The Tupelo journal., 1904-09-23

Had we been fasteners our prepare
tons would have involved a thousand
little signs whereby the assailants
would have known at once OF our pres
ence. But we were all skilled plains
men, and capable of matching even the
Sioux themselves in matters OF wood
craft and cunning.
So it was we made our plans. Part OF
U party were to be concealed in the
group of cabins which would probably
be the object of the first attack. The
rest were to form a flanking party and
fall on the Sioux from the rear, thus
catching them between two fires. Our
original numbers were swelled by the
presence of>every man in the whole set
Element, rifle in hand, fury in heart,
yearning for a chance to wipe out old
scores against the ma%rauders. Not one
but had some relative, friend or neigh
Dor of other days to avenge.
| have sketched briefly our move
ments up to this point, for
this story does not deal so much
with the fight itself as with
a single incident in it. For that rea-
son l may here say the ruse we had
planned proved perfectly successful.
We beat off the war party and drove
them back over the hills with heavy
loss and badly scared. Drove them, in
fact, straight into the arms of the pur-
suing detachment of United States
cavalry they had before eluded.
1t is of our wait in the thick under
brush (for l was n of the fianking
partly that am to tell.
l found myself crouched close TO the
ground, rifle in hand. revolver and
knife conveniently loosened in my belt.
Beside me 1--WE were scattered through
the God in parties OF two) sat an old
man, one of the settlers He was Of
gigantic frame. nearly six feet six
inches in height, with massive neck
and shoulders and. bare, muscular
arms. A long white beard fell nearly
to his waist. Across his knees lay a
long, muzzle-loading rifle. Venerable
as was his appearance, the moving
muscles OF his arms and the almost de-
moniac glow of hate in his blue eyes
~betokened him a fearfully dangerous
opponent.
Our C%herokees were posted far out
beyond us and we knew they would
signal us of the approach of the en-
envy. Strict silence, therefore, was not
necessary. Yet the old mar replied
for a time in monosyllables only to my
efforts at conversation.
I knew him by reputation and had
met him once or twice before in the
settlement, where the neighbors looked
on him as unbalanced and treated him
with q mixture of pity and fear. He
lived a hermit'S life in a far isolated
hut. His name was Scott-Caleb Scott.
He had been among the first to move
to that part of the country, coming
there nearly 20 years before with his
wife and their little son, a Doy of per-
haps five. The child had been the idol
of his heart. A few months after their
arrival a Sioux attack had been made.
Scott had attempted to defend his
cabin, but had been stretched senselesS
by a blow from a club. When he came
to his sense he found the dead and
mutilated body Of his wife stretched
at his side. The child was nowhere TO
be found. The Indians had evidently
carried it to the villages to torture TO
death. The horror of the tragedy, COM
bined with the blow he had received OF
the head, had partially unsettled his
reason. Fol the past 20 years he had
lived on there, more than once travel
ing nearly 100 miles on the chance Of
joining a fight against the Sioux. His
one desire in life was to STAY as many
Sioux as possible, and the score had
mounted high during the long stretch
of years.