82 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 80, 1897. 
STORIES OF AN HEROIC AGE. 
THE RETURN OF A WAR PARTY. 
A Reminiscence of Charley Reynolds. 
It was in the autumn of 1875 that we were traveling 
westward across the buffalo-trodden plains of Montana. 
The days were hot and dusty, and on this day especially 
we had started very early, It was a long, hard march, 
but we pressed on, for we wanted to make Camp Lewis 
that night, and it was yet an hour or two before sun- 
down, when the cottonwoods that fringed the Warm 
Spring Fork of the Judith River began to be seen. On 
the hills beyond and to the north of the point that we 
had headed for we could see far off many feeding ani- 
mals, and as we drew a little nearer the different colors 
showed that they 
were not buffalo, 
but were either 
horses or cattle. 
We knew that 
there were no cat- 
tle in the country 
and that these 
could only be 
horses, and Indian 
horses, and that 
somewhere near at 
hand there must be 
a big camp. Char- 
ley Reynolds and I 
talked it over as 
we rode along, and 
decided that the 
Indians were prob- 
ably Crows, though 
it was i)0S8ible that 
they were a camp 
of Blackfeet, or 
even of Prairie 
Gros Ventres. 
When we rode 
down into the val- 
ley where the 
white tents of the 
soldiers shone, and 
crossed the creek 
to the solitary 
building occupied 
by Reed, the post 
trader, we learned 
that the camp was 
one of 300- lodges of 
Mountain Crows, 
who had moved in 
only the day be- 
fore. They had 
come just in order 
to take a hand in 
the excitement of 
the last twenty- 
four hours. 
For several days 
a small war party of 
Sioux had been 
hovering around 
the soldiers' camp 
and trying to drive 
off the Government 
mules. As this was 
an infantry post, 
the soldiers could 
do nothing except 
look on at these 
attempts and guard 
their stock as care- 
fully as possible. 
Two days before 
the eighteen Sioux 
had made another 
dash. They failed 
to get the mules, 
but had succeeded 
in driving off some 
horses belonging to 
Reed and to some 
men who were 
stopping with him. 
They had also 
killed a couple of 
recruits who were 
fishing at a big pool 
in the river quite 
close to the post. 
One of the men 
at Reed's was Yel- 
lowstone Kelly, 
and when the 
Sioux were charg- 
ing down on the 
camp, with one or 
two others he had 
run out to try to 
drive in the horses. The Sioux were too quick for them, 
however, and they had been obliged to content them- 
selves with firing a few shots at the enemy at 500 or 
600yds. distant, and then had seen the horses rounded up 
and driven away into the hills. 
This was the story of the loss of the herd as Kelly told 
it to me afterward. He said: "We had just finished eat- 
ing dinner when one of the boys in the store yelled: 'In- 
dians, boys I Hostiles!' At the cry we grabbed our rifles 
and cartridge belts and rushed out of the cabin. Along 
the foothills, stretched out in loose order, we saw about 
eighteen or twenty Indians riding at an easy gallop in 
the direction of the pony herd, about three-quarters of a 
mile distant. Most of them had blankets wrapped close- 
ly around them, over or under the shoulders, and their 
every action was graceful as they rose and fell to the 
movement of their swift and agile ponies. They were so 
near that we could see their motions and could tell that 
their faces were turned toward us. They seemed to be 
watching our movements with an indifference that was 
very irritating, AU this we saw at a glance. 
"With m were two Prairie Gros Ventres — modest, un- 
assuming young men, for Indians — who were stopping 
at the trading post for a few days. They had seven or 
eight ponies in that herd, and I suppose it flashed across 
their minds that they would have to give an account of 
those ponies when they returned to camp. Although our 
own ponies were safely cached in a coulee, I know that 
we — that is, Jack Mail, John Lee and myself — ^were in- 
stantly seized with a strong desire to frustrate the purpose 
of the Sioux. We all raced madly to cut them off. But 
running afoot at full speed just after eating is very disas- 
trous to wind, and we never got closer than about 500yd8. 
to the war party, who watched us, but kept on their way. 
"As they bunched up a little before rounding up the 
herd, we threw ourselves on the ground and popped it to 
them with our rifles. It seemed as if some of the shots 
must have told, but the Indians paid no attention to us, 
and rounding up the herd struck for the foothills. Then 
we turned and plodded back to the cabin, but the Gros 
WOODCOCK. 
From the original photograph. 
Ventre boys, who had followed our actions, rose from the 
ground and set out after the Sioux at full speed, and the 
last I saw of them they were rising a distant hill, still 
going along at the same steady dog trot." 
Not very far from Reed's two villages of Mountain 
Crows were camped, one being a day's ride to the north- 
ward, the other not so far to the west. To the first of 
these camps Kelly and another man rode to try to get the 
Crows to follow the Sioux, but for some reason the In- 
dians declined to move. Long Horse's camp, however, 
which was further to the west, heard of the raid and at 
once moved up near to the post, and about 150 warriors 
started out on the trail of the Sioux. It was the horses 
of these Crows that we had seen on the hiUs. There 
were about 5,000 of them, and among them many spotted 
horses and mules. The pursuing warriors had not yet 
returned to the village when we arrived at the post. 
Charley and I were hot, dusty and tired from our long 
ride, and the rush of the cool waters which flowed down 
from the mountains and by the camp was very attractive 
to both of us, and we agreed to go up the creek a little 
way and take a swim. Two or three kindly disposed in- 
dividuals called out after us that we had better look out 
or we might lose our hair, as the recruits had done the day 
before; but we had our rifles witli us and thought that we 
could take care of ourselves. 
We went up to 4he deep pool where the recruits had 
been fishing when they were killed, and saw on the bank 
just above the pool the poor fellows' graves. It took but 
little time to strip and plunge into the sparkling water, 
and the pool was deep enough to swim in. It was 
delightfully fresh and cool, and we were swimming about, 
now and then dipping under like a couple of ducks — or 
perhaps geese — that had long been deprived of water, 
when suddenly on the bank above us a shot sounded, and 
we pulled for the shore and for our guns. 
We seized our rifles and cartridge belts and looked for 
cover. There was no time for dressing, and with guns 
and belts in hands we crossed the stream, climbed up the 
bank and peered over it on the other side, where the two 
graves were. What 
we saw there at 
once showed that 
' , there was no dan- 
^ gerforus. GaUop- 
i ing down the val- 
ley, and flanked on 
either side by a 
man dressed in su- 
perb war clothing, 
rode a naked In- 
dian on a naked 
horse, carrying in 
his hand a pole to 
the end of which 
was tied a stretched 
scalp, the long hair 
of which blew out 
behind him in the 
breeze. His face 
was painted black 
and he was singing 
a song of war and 
triumph. The men 
who rode beside 
him were clad in 
shirts and leggins 
of white buckskin. 
Long war bonnets 
of eagle's feathers 
hung down behind 
them and blew out 
over their horses' 
hips. As they rode 
they sang, and as 
they sang they 
fired shots in the 
air. They were the 
avant couriers of 
the returning and 
triumphant war 
party. 
We watched 
them down the 
valley, and then 
returning to our 
clothes dressed and 
clambered up on 
the bank just in 
time to see men, 
women and chil- 
dren swarm up the 
valley from the 
camp to meet the 
returning warriors, 
who now began to 
appear over the 
distant hills and to 
come down toward 
their home. On 
either hand the 
sight was a fine 
one. The women 
of the camp who 
had relations in the 
war party had 
bundled on all their 
finery and arranged 
themselves on 
either side of the 
valley so that the 
warriors could pass 
between them. 
Buckskin dresses 
heavily trimmed 
with elk teeth and 
beads and red cloth 
and fur, and paint- 
ed robes, that to- 
day would be 
worth a small for- 
tune, were com- 
mon hero. Many 
of the men carried 
bows and arrows, 
but there were a 
few sawed off 
needle guns, a few old Henry rifles, and a good many 
muzzleloaders. If the clothing of the women was fine, 
that of the men who were coming back from war was 
much finer. Before starting out in pursuit of the enemy 
the Crows had had time to dress and paint themselves 
and their horses most elaborately, and each man was 
equipped in his finest war costume. 
The Mountain Grows a stark and sturdy race, the men 
big and fine looking as any Indians I have ever seen, ex- 
cept perhaps among the Cheyennes and Arapahoes. 
Their hair is long and often hangs down so that it rests 
upon the back of the rider's horse, and you can imagine 
that these splendid men attired in all their finery made a 
good appearance as they rode down toward us. They 
came in little groups. Eight, ten or a dozen would be 
clustered about some man who bore a scalp upon a pole; 
others went before, behind and on either side of some 
man who held an enemy's rifle. The captured war 
ponies ran loose among the throng, neighing to each 
other in shrill tones. E^om each group came the sound 
of singing, now loud, now low, and the burden of the 150 
voices mingled with the high-pitched ch&ut of the onlook- 
