Askov American. [volume] (Askov, Pine County, Minn.) 1914-current, 1928-08-02

But he had to wait for men.
Colonel Roper, like an old blunder-
buss, sputtered around trying to hurry
things up, but week slipped away
before they could get handful Of
men ready. Father, Of course, was
likewise impatient to be off and great
~ elated-and before he got away
something else happened.
Father had an Orderly-a half
breed Chippewa Indian who was to
act as guide. He had been brought
up among the Sioux, and his name
was John Frying Pan. Frying Pan
learned from friendly Indians that a
black-robe missioner was travelling
with an escort of Blackfeet into the
mountains, and that the party was
camped at what was called Old Mis-
sion, twenty miles down the river My
father went to my mother with the
news.
He asked her to go with him to
the black-robe and be married. When
he came back he would tell his father,
have it out with him, and all would
be we'll they would be married, any,
way, and there would be no more
trouble.
1T all sounded good to my mother;
the little Grow expedition was to be
holiday affair-soon over, military
honors, brave young husband-and all
that.
"She consented. Frying Pan, the or
derby, arranged things. An old SER
geant, devoted to Father, rode out
with him one afternoon after antelope.
Mother rode out later alone. Frying
Pan met her, and they rode down
the river together and met Father.
Frying Pan and the old sergeant
were taken along for witnesses.
'They made the camp and found the
black-robe. My mother belonged to
his faith. He made necessary inqui-
ries, told them he would marry them,
and asked them to come back the fol-
lowing day for the ceremony. They
begged to be married at once.
might had fallen. 1t was raining
to beat hell. But that wild night, in
that little Indian camp and in that
downpour, before the gray-hafred
padre, with Frying Pan, the sergeant,
and the Blackfeet lighting the scene
with pitch-pine torches, my father
married my mother.
'They got back to the fort. Came
next day the orders to start. There
were only half as many men fit as
should have been sent against the
meanest Indians ever bred in the
Rockies. My father was no greenhorn
he protested. The old man was iron
he listened to nothing. He waited
q few days and sent him out with
fewer men than he would have had
q week earlier.
"Any old scout in the mountains
can tell you the story Of that fight.
Henry Roper followed the Crows q
week, and surprised them at daylight,
up past the lava beds, in Crawling
Stone wash. My father attacked.
Colonel Roper's scouts, who were no
good, had reported that the war party
numbered fifty-but a bigger party
had Joined them, and there proved to
be three hundred warriors in the
wash; Roper's men were surrounded
In thirty minutes.
HE saw what he was up against.
He knew there was only one thing
to do-to cut through the ring and
make a dash back for the lava beds.
"A few men-about a dozen-got
through. The old sergeant-I never
got his name-was shot through the
head. Frying Pan was left for dead
on the field. Ny father did not reach
the lava beds. He fell at the head Of
his men, in Crawling Stone wash; his
body never was recovered"
Continued Next Week.