442 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
|t)EC. g, 1896. 
STORIES OF AN HEROIC AGE* 
IL-=A TRAGEDY OF POWDER RIVER. 
AfTEE Sandy had recovered from his wounds he beoaine 
testlesa. One day he approached me with a proposition. 
There was such an important and mysterious look upon 
his face that I expected some valuable disclosure. 
"The fact is," said he^ "I am getting restless. Now, 
you have a couple of ponies; what do you say to going 
''havers" on the wolves at my baits up Cow Creek way. 
Things are quiet now, we can slip up to the Bear's Paw 
and load down with pelts during this fine weather. 
■Wolves were very thick when we were there, though; 
what do you say?" 
I did not reply for a moment. The proposal seemed 
tempting enough, for I knew the nature of the country 
Sandy had been wolfihg in. Finally I laughed and said 
jokingly: "How about the Indians, Sandy, ain't they 
pretty thick up there too?" "Well," he replied seriously, 
"I think we can take care of the Indians this time. You 
see we will be more careful, and we won't build any fires 
'to see to shoot by.' " It was not hard to come to an 
understanding with Sandy. I was to furnish the stock, 
which consisted of two ponies, and we then became part- 
ners in the wolfing enterprise. 
We packed our ponies one day and footed it up to Cow 
Creek. On the opposite side of the Missouri, on a small, 
open bottom, we unpacked with the intention of remain- 
ing a couple of days while we looked over the country 
near the mouth of Cow Creek. The little bottom spoken 
of was low and perfectly bare of timber. 
We killed three buffalo bulls here, and with their skins 
and some driftwood erected a small but comfortable war 
house, which we used while stopping there and on our 
trips up and down the river. The very appearance of this 
war house was enough to intimidate a party of Indians. 
It was built in the shape of a bell, the lower part built up 
of slabs of driftwood, about 3ft. high, and the toproimded 
off with the hides. The lower part had concealed port- 
holes for use in possible skirmishes, while above, out of 
range, imitation boles were made by cutting the hair off 
the hides in places and marking with charcoal to en- 
hance the fraud. While at this camp we had an adven- 
ture which gave us a foretaste of what we might expect 
in that region. 
We started up a ridge one morning to see what the 
country had in view for us. It was storming a little. 
Running across a band of antelope, I killed four of them, 
and we thought it a good place to put out a bait for 
wolves. We had just finished this business, when looking 
about me I saw what appeared to be about a dozen buffalo 
traveling along in single file. 
Something odd about them caused me to look again. 
They were then about 150yd8. away, coming along the far 
side of a ridge, so that I could only see the upper part of 
their bodies. When I looked the second time I saw that 
they were Indians in a stooping position, wrapped round 
with buffalo robes with the hair side out. The pony that 
we had brought with us was about 50yds. away and 
toward the Indians. We started on a quick walk in the 
direction of the pony, and at the same moment the In- 
dians disappeared from view. When they came into 
view again they were only 50yds. away. I motioned to 
them to halt, whereupon they stopped, the partisan throw- 
ing down his robe and gun, raised his hands above his 
bead and advanced toward us. 
He was a short, compact-formed fellow, and gave his 
name as the Polecat's son. He said they had been up in the 
Crow country, had met the Crows in a skirmish, in which 
one Sioux received a shot in the leg, and he pointed out 
the fellow, who was a little in rear of the party, limping 
along as best he could. 
Polecat wanted tobacco; Sandy had a plug, and I told 
him to break off a piece and hand it to him. But my 
lordly Sioux ignored the piece, preferring the plug. He 
evidently thought that superiority of numbers gave him 
the right to dictate. I quickly imdeceived him by telling 
Sandy to put it back in nis pocket. 
About this time the rest of the party edged a little 
closer, which movement Sandy perceiving raised his rifle 
in a threatening manner and motioned them to halt. 
Polecat, turning to me, fiercely said, "Do you want to 
fight?" I replied, "No, not to-day, but your men must 
keep back." He cooled down somewhat, and after some 
more talk we started off with our pony, keeping a 
close watch on our red friends until well out of their 
neighborhood. 
I knew the Polecat's son slightly, and while he was not 
a pronoimced hostile he would bear watching on the 
prairie. I had an idea they were afraid of the Crows, 
and would lose no time m getting home. 
The very next day we packed up our traps and started 
for the headwaters of Cow Creek. At the first bait we 
found ten wolves, a red fox and three coyotes. These 
we skinned, and pegged down on a siae hill out of 
observation, intending to take up the hides on our re- 
turn 
When we reached the head of the creek we stopped for 
awhile while Sandy pointed out and explained tue posi- 
tion of things at the time of the attack of the war party. 
It appears, from what was learned afterward, that after 
the Indians fired the volley they were so astonished by 
the white men flicking themselves up and returning the 
fire that they fled precipitately, taking, however^ the 
ponies with them. They thought they had missed the 
white men entirely; in fact, had overshot them. 
We went out to the bait on the mountain, and on the 
way there we saw a band of cows among which was a 
calf barely a day old. It ran along ia the band alongside 
of its mother through the snow with all the vigor of a 
month's calf. It was a dingy yellow little fellow, and 
had all the wild instinct of tue buffalo. 
We found our bait, and heard shooting in the distance 
about the same time, indicating the presence of Indians. 
Indeed, we thought it probable that tue band of cows had 
been alarmed from the same source. 
We puUed five wolves out of a heavy snowbank, and it 
was hard to judge how many more might be buried in 
tixe same place. We did not think it wise to investigate 
farther, but hurriedly skinned those we found, and had 
packed up and started when three Indians put in an ap- 
pearance. 
They were very black-looking fellows, and I could not 
understand them in the least, but sized them up as 
"Stony Assinaboines." They showed us a dark line in 
the distance, which proved to be their camp on the travel. 
They did not appear to be unfriendly, but as they had 
watched us some time before showing themselves it was 
hard to say just what their intentions were. 
Good luck had favored us thus far in regard to Indians. 
The same could not be said as to wolves. They were de- 
cidedly scarce, and by no means dame Up to our expecta- 
tions. We barely obtained seventy-five wolf pelts in all, 
where we expected to skin up 200 or 800. As the last 
bait was nearly all devoured, it was possible that a num- 
ber were buried under the snow, but there could not have 
been many. 
This was our last venture in the wolfing business 
together. In the spring (1876) I went to the south of 
the Judith Basin with two companions— Jack Mail and 
John Lee — on a hunting expedition along Fiat Willow 
and other creeks that run into the Musselshell, where we 
remained until early summer, when we were driven out 
by the Sioux, who were very active in that part of the 
country that season. It was the opinion of frontiersmen 
that they were congregated in unusually large numbers 
in the Yellowstone country. 
I happened to be in the Judith Basin when the news of 
Custer's fight with the hostiles reached there. Later I 
joined the command' operating under General N. A, 
Miles, and while with that energetic and skillful officer I 
saw all the Indian fighting I wanted, for he believed in 
hitting hard blows where they were most needed, and 
while he was most humane and generous to those who 
showed a disposition to come to terms, he never let up on 
the trail of Indians on the war path. 
In consequence, the troops in the district of the Yellow- 
stone were constantly drawing field rations and devoting 
their energies to promoting peace and quiet in the terri- 
tory, a result that encouraged settlers to occupy and make 
fruitful a hitherto waste rejiion. 
I lost track of Sandy for a couple of years, but in Feb- 
ruary, 1880, he loomed up as the chief actor in a little 
tragedy that occurred on Powder RLver. 
Sandy and a comrade of his were on a little hunting 
expedition when they discovered fresh moccasin tracks in 
the soft ground along the river. There were no friendly 
Indians in the country, and all of the hostiles were sup- 
posed to be north of the line. As soon as the hunters 
discovered these signs of Indians they packed up their 
traps and started down the river. They camped at night 
near some scattered cottonwoods and put up a low corral 
of slabs, poles and drift to protect their camp. 
In the morning, while eating breakfast, six Indians 
suddenly appeared in the timber near their camp. Sandy 
leveled his gun and ordered them to halt. The leader of 
the party threw down his blanket, placed his gun and 
knife upon it and came toward them with uplifted hands. 
The Indian was allowed to come inside the corral, when 
he straightway engaged the two men in conversation. 
Meanwhile the other Indians were stealthily edging up a 
little closer. Sandy, perceiving this, drew his gun on 
them and waved them back. Though a brave man, he 
was excitable at times. His partner stood with gun in 
hand ready for any emergency. 
Now, whether the Indian was rendered desperate by 
the evident excitement of the two white men and was 
afraid to turn his back to them, or thought that the time 
for the supreme coup of his life had come, wiU never be 
known. What he did was this: He suddenly stretched 
out his hands and grasped the rifles in the hands of the 
white men. If the rest of the Indians had been equal 
to the occasion and rushed in then it would have been 
very bad for Sandy and his partner, for these Indians 
were of the desperate material that composed Sitting 
Bull's followers; ambitious youngsters as well as ruffians 
and renegades from other tribes. 
There was at once a desperate struggle for the mastery. 
The Indian, a sturdy, resolute fellow, hung on to the guns 
with the tenacity of despair. The white men, taken by 
surprise, realized like a flash their immediate peril and 
the necessity of overcoming it. Down they went on to 
the ground, the Indian uppermost. They were now out 
of sight of the other Indians, who were afraid to ad- 
vance, as the side of the corral hid the combatants. 
In the struggle Sandy's gun was discharged, the bullet 
grazing his arm. He succeeded finally in wrenching the 
gun loose, and putting the muzzle against the Indian's 
belly, pulled the trigger. The Indian struggled to his 
feet, jumped over the corral and before the hunters fired 
again was safe in the timber. In the skirmish that fol- 
lowed another Indian was shot, how badly they could 
not determine, but the Indians puUed out shortly after, 
and they saw no more of thei^a. They shortly after 
packed up and started for the fort. Upon hearing their 
story the commanding officer at Fort Keogh directed that 
a party be sent in pursuit of the Indians. This party, of 
whom I was one, was under the command of Corp. Tom 
Glover, of the 3d Cavalry, and was composed of a de- 
tachment of cavalry, a few Cheyenne and Sioux scouts 
and the necessary packers, about fifteen in all, if memory 
is not treacherous. It was late at night when we reached 
the little corral, the scene of the conflict of the morning 
before. We made coffee, and after a hearty meal of 
hard tack and fried bacon spread our blankets before the 
blazing camp-fire and went to sleep. Not so the Indian 
scouts. They smoked and sang, joked and talked for 
half the night, after the fashion of Indians when in 
camp and not under the restraint of the prying curiosity 
of strangers. 
In fact they were a little skeptical about the truth of 
Sandy's story; it seemed so improbable to them that two 
white men should be able to discomfit six of Sitting Bull's 
warriors. They questioned him again that night and lis- 
tened to his story with rapt attention, interjecting many 
brisk "hubs" and deprecatory "ums" as he related the 
adventure. 
In the morning one of the Cheyenne scouts, while pok- 
ing around the camp, discovered a pile of brush with a 
dead Indian imder it. . 
A general search was then instituted and a study made 
of the tracks leading away from the place, with the fol- 
lowing result: 
It appeared that the Indian shot in the corral had, ac^ 
companied by another Indian, started for home by way of 
the Yellowstone, as the tracks led north. One Indian 
was dead, shot between the eyes by Sandy, while fighting 
under cover of a tree. Three tracks led up Powder River, 
showing that the remaining Indians had gone on their 
way either to fulfill the tjuest or business that hfid brought 
them to that part of the country, or to draw attention 
from their wounded comrade, who was on his way home 
across the line, a journey involving travel of about 105 
miles or more, through bad lands and prairie, before 
reaching a safe retreat. These facts wete determined 
very quickly by those who could read the signs — by the 
Indians quickest of all. The Cheyennes and Siou± with 
us had been hostile to the Government only a fcouple of 
years back, now they were eager to follow the trail of the 
small war party. 
By sunrise we were on the trail, it being easy to follow, 
as the February sun thawed the snow sufficiently to re- 
tain the clear impress of any track which the frosty 
nights froze into rigidity. 
Powder River valley in February was a rathet f otlorn- 
looking country-^gray and bare, except for the somber 
scrub cedar and pine along the foothills. Even the deer 
had deserted it at this season, and only a stray antelope 
and mountain sheep was occasionally seen darting for 
some safe retreat. 
We had not traveled over ten miles when it became 
apparent that the hostile Sioux had strong suspicion of 
being followed, for they had taken advantage of every 
slope or ridge that was bare of snow, and twice they left 
their direct course to travel up the bed of gulches, down 
which trickled little streams of snow water, expecting 
that the water would increase in volume and wash out 
the tracks. In one place noted they had doubled on their 
tracks a short distance, and had camped in a little hollow 
forming a perfect ambush for any that might pass. 
The Cheyennes pointed to this spot significantly and 
laughed as they rode by. After this we were deliberate 
in our movements, and took turns in going ahead. 
There was no order in our march, some riding ahead; 
others, where the ground was favorable, deployed on 
either side. 
We had left the Powder River valley and were travers- 
ing the broken ridges that border the Mizpah; the way 
became more difficult, broken cliffs appeared on either 
side covered with the stunted cedar and pine of that 
region, and on them frequently were the mountain sheep 
and black-tailed deer. 
Late in the day we made camp in a grassy glade, the 
Cheyennes camping a little apart, as our partar was too 
large to find comfort around one camp-fire. Indians do 
not usually overload themselves with blankets when on a 
trip, hence they always build some kind of shelter of 
brush or logs to break the force of the wind, or a protec- 
tion from gathering frost or dew, which they regard as 
more to be avoided than rain or snow. 
War parties usually build very substantial structures 
when camping for the night, the form being distinctive 
of the tribe or nation to which the party belongs; thus 
the Sioux and allied tribes build in tepee fashion, the 
loose, interlacing top forming a vent for the smoke from 
the fire in center of the lodge, round which the Indians sit 
in a circle, and at night, with the discarded war bonnets, 
shields and feathered cases for guns and bows in the 
background, forms a scene at once wild and picturesque. 
The Crow Indians build a war house in flat, oblong 
shape, with a square hole in the top to let out the 
smoke. 
We were in good spirits that evening, for there was 
some excitement in the chase, although the advantage 
was clearly on our side. After supper the Cheyennes 
sat in a circle around their little fire, and, passing the 
pipe from one to the other, sang in unison a song of love 
or war, which must have been of a humorous character, 
as it was frequently interrupted by laughter. 
Interrogating one of the Cheyennes, Yellow Bull, as to 
the probability of our overtaking the Sioux, he expressed 
the opinion that we would come up with them about 
noon the next day. This he expressed in the graceful 
gesture of the sign language, and then added in the 
Yankton Sioux dialect (generally used in the region of 
the Upper Missouri by the different tribes in their inter- 
course with the whites), "Kich e-sapa e-ba-duxya" 
("they will fight"), which was certainly a foregone con- 
clusion with most of us. 
A moment's reflection convinced me that Yellow Bull 
was probably right in his calculations; in fact, it was a 
case of Greek against Greek. 
Only a short time before these same Cheyenne scouta 
had been hostile Indians, and had doubtless been in the 
same predicament as the Sioux ahead of us. 
With the instinct of a savage every detail of the chase 
was a revelation to Yellow Bull; every artifice used ap- 
proved itself to his understanding, and he probably knew 
the very spot or point where the Sioux would watch or spy 
the pursuit. 
By daylight we were on the trail again, the way became 
rougher as we advanced, and the raw February wind 
swept down from the gulches with chilling force. Troops 
of black-tailed deer sped away from our front into the 
cedar groves, but no one fired a shot for fear of giving 
alarm. About noon, as we were traversing a grassy glade, 
the wind, which swept through every hollow and appar- 
ently from no particular direction, wafted to us the odor 
of burning sagebrush. , 
At once all were on the alert. The Cheyennes scattered 
out to find the quarry; we followed suit, and some little 
time had elapsed, for we moved with caution, when my 
attention was attracted by the odd movements of one of 
the Cheyenne scouts, who stood behind one of the cav- 
alrymen and was pointing eagerly ahead in a manner to 
encourage the soldier to advance while he followed in the 
rear. JUst at that moment a shot was fired from the 
gulch ahead, killing the soldier instantly. The Cheyenne 
also dropped in the grass and remained under cover for 
half an hour before he dared move, and then his Exer- 
tions to get away without exposing himself led to some 
odd contortions of the body and showed the cunning art 
of the savage when in straits. 
There was some confusion for a little while, during 
which shots were exchanged between some of our party, 
who had crossed the ravine on the opposite rise of ground, 
and the Sioux, who it was discovered were concealed 
in a sort of cave under a large rock. 
A short distance from the rock their camp-fire was vis- 
ible, near which a blanket or two which had been hMtilf 
