Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1901-06-19
A TEST OF COURAGE.
Tortures Which Indian Scouts Bore
With Smiling Faces.


Tortures Which Indian Scouts Bore
With Smiling Faces.
The Indian scouts that joined forces
with the United States army in 1878 to
make prisoners Of the Sheep Eaters in
western Idaho, were skeptical at first
of Lieutenant Farrow's ability to lead
them into battle. They had never seen
his courage tested and plainly intima-
ted by word and action that they had
no intention Of oloeying his orders un-
less he should prove himself braver
than any chief, subchief or buck in the
command.
First they gave themselves up to all
kinds Of physical torture as lesson to
him. They slashed their bodies with
knives without showing pain. They
slit the skin on their chests, ran skew
ers hereunder and jerked off cutaIie-
GUS and fieshly strips while smiling
happily in the face. They split their
ears, pierced their noses, lacerated their
cheeks, butchered their arms and legs.
Their stunts were so far beyond any
thing Farrow could inflict upon himself
that the poor young lieutenant thought
he "saw his finish"
Suddenly, while rivulets Of cold per-
spiration trickled down his spine, the
West Pointer recollected that in his
schoolboy days he was an adept at
4 l,f, nj infn tho fhfoR nf htd
"vastus externus" without feeling pain
and the joyful inspiration to thus illu-
inmate his courage seized him.
The necessary pin was in the lapel
of his fatigue jacket. Ruthlessly he
slit the front Of his breeches leg from
pocket to knee, then his drawers till
the front Of the thigh was exposed to
the wondering gaze Of the Indians
gathered close around. Then dramati-
cally exhibiting the pin, an affair OF an
inch and a sixteenth, he reached for
flat stone and drove the harmless bit Of
wire down to the head In the unresist-
ing muscles. His handsome face was as
unclouded as when he helped to haze
his first plebe.
The red men nodded approvingly.
grunted, looked wise and sat down on
their launches. They had seen some
thing new; but wanted something more
convincing. Farrow realized this and
was in the seventh heaven Of despair
as he smilingly pulled out the pin and
held 1t aloft for inspection.
To show the white feather meant In
that hostile country insubordination
and treachery, involving Farrow's mys-
terious death. 1t was moment to try
a soul-and to fry it. The lieutenant
whispered to his trusted sergeant: II
am going to shoot myself through the
head with my revolver; but you stand
beside your horse, and just an instant
before I shoot you fire your rifle, yell
'Si-Washn mount and make on
through the woods as fast as you can
ride Don't forget to fire before I do,
else I shall be dead man."
Sitting upon a jagged rock, he ex-
planned to the Indians what he was
about to do, and with great delibera-
ton and some fine theatricals he cock
ed the pistol and placed the muzzle
against his temple. The Indians were
wrought up to a high pitch. They had
never seen a man shoot himself through
the head and live. Surely here was the
bravest Of all brave leaders. They
would follow him through hell.
The sergeant, unnoticed, fired his RI
fled, his "Si-wash!" woke the echoes OF
Shoshone and Bitter Root, and the clat-
ter of his horses hoofs rang down the
Clear Water as far as Fort Lapwai.
"Si-wash?" The Indian knew what
that cry meant. In less time than 1t
takes to tell it Farrow was alone. His
forces had scattered to the four winds.
In the course of a few hours all were
united again, but the courage test was
not renewed.
Twenty-Five years after this exciting
incident, on a certain evening in 1900,
Farrow occupied box in the Madison
Square Garden when Buffalo Bills Wild
West was in full blast. Chief Joseph,
the celebrated commander Of the Nez
Perces, whom Farrow had captured ~
years previously and whom he had not
seen in the interim, led wild, whoop-
ing, yelling, screeching mob of painted
Indians out into the arena for dash
around the circle.
But the charge was interrupted-cut
short. When Joseph reached the curve
near the Madison avenue end OF the
amphitheater, he pulled his horse
sharply to the right cutting across the
first file Of warriors in most dangerous
fashion. In a mad gallop he poked his
chargers head into an arena box,
Strengthened up in his stirrups' hela
ont his hand and cried: How! How!
Howl" The old fellow had caught sight
of Farrow, and nothing could prevent
him from riding up to salute his CAP
tor of 1878. It was dramatic incident.
New York Press.