A MODERN POCAHONTAS. 



L. KEVES. 



A number of years ago. while serving as 

 a lieutenant of cavalry in the Indian Terri- 

 tory, I was sent, in command of my troop, 

 in charge of a large hunting party of Arapa- 

 hoe Indians, leaving their agency by per- 

 mission to engage in an extensive winter's 

 hunt. My orders were simple, directing me 

 to move and camp with the Indians; to pre- 

 vent any of their number escaping to the 

 Northern agency and to prevent their re- 

 ceiving liquor from unscrupulous purveyors. 



Buffalo were abundant, the sport was ex- 

 citing and, to the Indians, lucrative. But 

 one attempt to escape Northward was made. 

 This was by a small party that was imme- 

 diately pursued and brought back. 



The day following the return of this es- 

 caping party, while encamped on Kiowa 

 Medicine Lodge creek, I observed 2 young 

 warriors forcing along, against her will, a 

 young and comely squaw. She was crying 

 bitterly, and the jerks and blows admin- 

 istered by the 2 bucks were of sufficient 

 force to prompt my interference. I or- 

 dered the 3 to accompany me to the lodge 

 of Little Raven, a prominent chief. Here 

 it was learned that each of the bucks 

 claimed the squaw had promised to marry 

 him; that she had been one of the escaping 

 party, thus betraying her intention to desert 

 them, consequently they were taking her to 

 the creek to drown her. The squaw said 

 she had never promised to marry either of 

 the suitors, and that she had been obliged 

 to accompany her parents. The matter was 

 soon amicably settled in a manner leaving 

 the squaw quite free. In grateful recogni- 

 tion of my services she gave me an elk's 

 tooth from the necklace she wore, and a 

 grasp of her small, shapely hand which I 

 recalled many times afterward. The hunt 

 continued several months. At its expira- 

 tion, I returned to my station and the Ind- 

 ians to their reservation. 



Affairs were not so peaceful farther to 

 the North. The Deadwood excitement had 

 brought thousands into the Black Hills. 

 The Indians rightfully complained that the 

 land formerly given them was being taken 

 away. Stock was run off. murders were 

 committed, small parties were massacred, 

 until the cry for assistance was so general 

 troops were ordered on a campaign to quell 

 hostilities, my regiment being of the num- 

 ber. 



While Custer and the gallant fellows of 

 the 7th Cavalry were being wiped out of 

 existence, we. inactive, and unconscious of 

 his fate, were encamped on the tranquil 

 War-Bonnet, but 100 miles away. The 

 reader will not care to go with me on that 



long and unsuccessful pursuit of the late 

 Mr. Sitting Bull. Let us imagine ourselves 

 across the Bad Lands, and in camp on the 

 Belle Fourche. The horses that had not 

 been killed for food were naturally in a weak 

 and pitiable condition. Emaciated and 

 trembling, the poor brutes stood around, 

 seeming to ask if they were never again to 

 receive forage. But the prospect was 

 brighter. Deadwood, Custer and other set- 

 tlements in the Black Hills were compara- 

 tively near. At that point I was furnished 

 a small number of men and was directed to 

 go back some 50 miles, gather up the stock 

 we had abandoned, and bring back the 

 boxes of ammunition which for lack of 

 transportation had been cached on the trail. 



It is doubtful if one of the 2.500 men com- 

 posing the expedition expected to see me 

 return. The hostiles in large number were 

 in our rear. The chance of success seemed 

 so small I slipped my ring from my finger 

 and left it with a letter to be sent to my 

 home should I not return. Just as I was 

 about to start, a lieutenant of the 4th In- 

 fantry rode up and said, 



'"Hold on; I'll see if I can't get permission 

 to go with you." And away he went to 

 consult the adjutant. A moment later he 

 came trotting back, a glad smile lighting his 

 handsome face as he said, 



" It's all right; I hated to see you going 

 to h alone." 



Fully appreciating the action of this gal- 

 lant officer, and rejoiced to learn I was to 

 have the pleasure of his agreeable company, 

 I extended my hand. As his met mine in 

 a clasp more expressive than words, I no- 

 ticed his ring had also been removed. 



As my little party started on the back 

 trail, the command moved forward into the 

 Hills. Scarcely had we started when Ind- 

 ians were seen on our right and left flanks, 

 but at too great a distance to inflict or re- 

 ceive injury. The poor, worn-out animals 

 seemed to show their disapproval of our 

 plan as they plodded back over the muddy 

 trail they had hopefully crossed the day pre- 

 vious. But on we went, the Bad Lands 

 stretching about us and the Indians keeping 

 parallel with us. We naturally concluded 

 the hostiles were only waiting for a greater 

 distance to intervene between the little party 

 and the main column: then they would 

 swoop down upon us. But without incident 

 we continued our journey until near mid- 

 night, when we unsaddled and lay down in 

 the mud. 



An hour later, when the weary troopers 

 were sleeping soundly and the one sentry 

 who had been posted was pacing his lonely 



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