64 
troops of his noted Indian fighters, following the trail of the 
raiding redmen. 
"The youngest of the Carr children died of croup during the 
siege. Three of our garrison were wounded by the bullets of our 
foes, having been incautious in the efforts to obtain advan- 
tageous shots. One of the three, John Ward, died. W'e buried the 
child and the Ranger in the same grave, one of the men reading 
the Episcopal burial service. 
"The grave of John Ward and little Lucy Carr can still be 
discerned by the inscription it bears, roughly cut with a toma- 
hawk on the .sandstone monument we placed at the head of the 
double grave. It is rugged stone, honevcombed, and lichen- 
grown, weighing two tons or more. It took our combined force 
to turn it over. All the tomahawks wc could procure were worn 
out chipping a smooth surface for the epitaph, which reads: 
" 'Here lies John Ward, a Ranger, and Lucy Carr, in whose 
defense he died. Soft rest the prairie turf upon the breasts of the 
Ranger and the little child.' 
Major Jones overtook the warriors, recovering our horses and 
many more the raiders had captured. While retreating and fight- 
ing the Rangers, in reverse, they ran into a squadron of United 
States Dragoons, and between the Rangers and the regulars, the 
Comanches were pulverized, losing, together with those slain in 
tlie siege of the butte one hundred and fourteen of their two 
hundred warriors who started that moon on the warpath." 
When the Custer massacre took place the CoTnaiichcs 
were on their reservation many miles from Flat Top, 
and they remained there. I happen to know they did, 
for I was among them myself then, and had 200 of them, 
or two of them, left there, ,1 was tiiere to tell our officers 
about it. That was what they had me there for. 
The Flat Top and the Double Mountains are just where 
this narration of the siege places them, and they are likely 
to stay there, too ; they won't be moved. 1 know some- 
thing of both of them. I came as near to being frozen 
on top of Flat Top in November, iS6g, as 1 ever care to 
come, unless I am frozen to death while asleep. 
An intelligent captain of the Ninth Cavalry camped his 
negroes and thirty-six of us on top of it all night in a 
norther. He did it to punish his negroes and forgot 
about us. The Comancheg out here had whipped his 
negroes and had driven them in to our post. Fort GrifFen. 
Thirty-six of us white men were sent back with him to 
whip the Indians, but when we struck them he would not 
let us fire a shot; he made his negroes whip the Indians, 
and they did it, too. We were right behind them ; 
whether that had anything to do with their whipping the 
Indians I don't know. 
There were plenty of Comanches out there then ; there 
were none in 1876 though, nor for several years before 
that. 
If two hundred Comanches, or a hundred of them, or 
even fifty of them, had got after those seven Rangers, 
then the Rangers would have been wiped out so suddenly 
that they never would have known how it had been done. 
This correspondent sent the wrong band of Indians out 
when he began to build up his story. Wlien he next tries 
his hand at it, let him take Kiowas or Cheyennes. Seven 
white men may stand them off ; but I would not want to 
be one of the seven white men who would take a contract 
on two hundred Comanches. I happen to know them. 
We have had no Dragoons in the army since 1861. All 
the Dragoons that were in that country then were six 
troops of the Fourth Cavalry. I belonged to one of these 
troops, and we did not have to go after any Comanches 
that year, nor the next one, either; the Comanches were 
good Indians then, "heap good." Two hundred Indians 
would have been about all the fighting men the 
Comanches could muster then. The camps upoa the 
Wichita would have had to be left to the squaws to de- 
fend ; and they could do it, too. 
This would not be an Indian story if it did not have a 
tomahawk in it, so we find one here, of course. 
I have lived with these Comanches, hunted and traveled 
with them, and am enough of a Comanche myself now to 
use the name they gave me, and I have never seen a 
tomahawk among them. 
I was about to go into deep mourning when I learned 
that the Dragoons, or the seven Texas Rangers, or the 
man who was telling me about it twenty-six years after it 
happened, had killed off one hundred and seventy-five of 
my brothers, until I happened to remember that I had 
been with them all the following winter, and had not 
missed one of them ; they were only killed on paper. 
If I were not as old as I am, I would take a trip out to 
Flat Top one of these days. I may take it yet. I have 
friends in Texas that the Comanches have not killed yet. 
I want to see that country again; I know every square 
foot of it, and if I do go I must hunt up that boulder 
that all those tomahawks were worn out on. It is there 
yet, of course ; it must be, if it ever was there at all ; it 
of course is not on Flat Top though, unless they earned 
it up there; and I hardly think they did. It only weighs 
two tons; but seven men could no more carry it up on 
top of Flat Top than they could whip two hundred 
Comanches. , , ^ j-j 
But to cut the story short, as the correspondent did 
when he wrote his story, that narrative of his is a beauti- 
ful one— for boys. They want Indian stones. The only 
thine wrong with this one is the fact that it never hap- 
pened. Cabia Blanco. 
la Minnesota Pines. 
At last, after months of anticipation, four of us 
from an interior town in central Iowa, found ourselves 
one evening last September encamped among the pines 
along the shore of a small but beautiful lake m the ex- 
treme northern part of Minnesota; and as we sat, at 
the close of a hard half day's work pitching tent and 
arranging camp, we could not help admiring the beau- 
tiful scene before us as the rays of the fast sinking sun 
were cast far out upon the quiet waters of the lake, 
followed by the lengthening shadows from the pme- 
clad shores to the west. 1, 
We were on a "general outing"— to hunt, fish and 
learn what we could of the region, its natural history 
and inhabitants. 
We had hired a buckboard to take us out fifteen miles 
from the little settlement where we had directed our 
luggage and camping outfit to be sent, paid our team- 
ster four dollars for the job and sent him back. 
We had -found the country everywhere heavily 
wooded with jack pine, tamarack and a few other spe- 
cies of trees, all of them with that peculiar habit ot 
sending out their branching roots close to the surface; 
one reason for which seemed to be that only six or 
eight inches of fertile soil covered the prevailing sands 
gf the whole region. 
The creeping vines and low spreading conifers made 
it almost impossible to penetrate far into the timber 
without following the blazed trails of the "lumber 
jacks." The lumber jack of these northern woods is 
a peculiar and very often a questionable character. 
He has no permanent abiding place, but roams the 
woods when not engaged in the lumber camps. Many 
dark deeds in this practically unsettled region are laid 
to his charge. 
A few settlers are here and there to be found, and 
like the pioneer settlers of most every region, they 
are very "neighborly," generous and free-hearted to- 
ward one another. They seem to be satisfied with 
what the day brings forth, and have but little thought 
for the future. 
Seldom does their clearing consist of more than two 
to four acres, but here they grow surprisingly fine 
vegetables of different kinds. Their houses are all 
small primitive log dwellings. They know but little 
of the doings of the outside world, and their neighborly 
conversation and gossip reminds one of that of grown- 
up children. One good settler's wife told us she 
"hadu'f been to the settlement in three years." They 
say they "came to this region to stay awhile and then 
sell out." As game in this region is plentiful, the set- 
tlers depend upon it for their meat supply, and are 
able to "fare sumptuously" in this respect. When not 
carrying his rifle, the settler carries his revolver, so 
as to "be prepared for an emergency" should one 
occur. 
Throughout nearly all the northern part of Minne- 
sota, there are many large lakes, and interspersed 
aiT ong them are almost innumerable small, wild and 
pi-turesque sheets of water, making it in many re- 
spects an ideal region for the sportsman and fisher- 
man. An unpleasant feature of this region, however, 
is the extensive tamarack and rice swamps almost 
everywhere to be met with. 
A sportsman should not be without his canvas 
canoe, for in order to traverse the region in the direc- 
tion he often wishes to go, he must often take to the 
water. 
One morning we left camp to go to a point several 
miles distant, but in order to reach it we were informed 
by the few settlers here that we would be obliged to 
go around the "great tamarack swamp," near our 
camp; but as this would make us an exceedingly long 
and tedious journey, we determined to cross the swamp, 
in spite of the strong protests not to do so. 
For a time we managed fairly well to make our way 
through the swamp, but when near the center found 
that our weight in stepping upon the exposed roots 
and fallen tree trunks which formed an almost im- 
penetrable mass, would shake the trees and under- 
growth for many rods around. We also discovered 
this swamp to be simply a lake of unknown depth, 
overgrown and carpeted by a dense growth of tam- 
arack and other vegetable growths, and that a single 
misstep might precipitate a man into the deep coffee- 
colored water below with but little chance of his get- 
ting out again. 
Black bear, wild cats, "bob cats," innumerable musk- 
rats and occasionally a porcupine make these swamps 
their home. In the fall, also, wild fowl frequent the 
rice swamps and lakes in myriads, although we were 
on the ground a little too early in the season to ob- 
tain the best shooting. 
We were informed that a little to the north of us 
some beaver and otter still existed, although none were 
met with by any of our party, neither were any of our 
party fortunate enough to get a glimpse of a moose 
or an elk, although we learned from reliable sources 
that both still existed in small numbers in the densely 
timbered region to the north. 
An interesting habit of the moose, and one appar- 
ently not known to sportsmen in general, is described 
by Her rick, in his "Mammals of Minnesota." He 
says: "The pursuit of the moose is rendered difficult 
by the keenness of his senses and extreme wariness. 
To stalk the animal even with firearms taxes the 
patience and skill of the Indians. When, however, the 
snow becomes covered with so firm a crust as to sup- 
port the hunter and impede effectually the progress 
of the heavy animal, the chase of the moose becomes 
comparatively easy to one familiar with its habits and 
haunts. When hunted at such times the herd passes 
in single file, each stepping so accurately in the foot- 
prints of its predecessors as to lead any but an ex- 
perienced person to suppose that but a single animal 
had formed the trail. When_ moving rapidly, the 
leader becomes weary of breaking the way and steps 
to one side, falling in behind the others, and in this 
way they change in rotation, although a very chival- 
rous care is exercised in aiding the weaker members 
of the herd." 
Deer we found quite plentiful, but at this early sea- 
son difficult to secure, although several had been seen 
by our party, yet not until the evening prior to our 
final breaking camp did we manage to secure one. _A 
settler had informed us that deer were, at evening, in 
the habit of visiting his turnip patch in a small clear- 
ing some distance from our camp, and that if due 
caution was observed we might get a shot at one. 
When we reached the clearing just at dark, we could 
see no signs of deer, and concluded we were doomed 
to disappointment, when at the further end of the 
clearing we heard a crash and caught a glimpse of a 
deer bounding into the underbrush. I fired at random 
in its direction, and it disappeared. On reaching the 
spot, however, we found that in some unaccountable 
manner I had managed to kill a beautiful buck. 
As we couldn't use this venison on account of break- 
ing camp the next day, we disposed of it to one of the 
settlers. 
We were informed that the prevailing method of 
stalking the deer in the more open woodlands in this 
region was for several to unite, some to station them- 
selves in the known runway, while the others beat the 
dense underbrush in hope of starting the animal. The 
fortunate sportsman into whose beat the deer strikes, 
has no intimation of its approach except the crash 
which precedes his appearance; and the hunter must 
be quick and sure in bis aim if he brings down bis 
game. 
Small game, such as rabbits, squirrels, "pine 
grouse" and partridges, we found in great abundance, 
especially the two latter. We found no sport in shoot- 
ing either of these birds, however, as they were so 
a.bundant and so tame that they would simply run a 
little way, turn and watch us, and allow themselves to 
be shot without attempting to fly. 
During the winter the settlers say the cold is often 
intense, the thermometer not infrequently registering 
sixty degrees below zero. There is but little wind, and 
the air is exceedingly dry, consequently the intense 
cold produces but little inconvenience to those exposed 
to it. 
Hunting during the winter is, for several reasons, 
often attended with less difficulty, and greater suc- 
cess, than during the fall season. 
One trip in a buckboard over the usual wagon road 
of this northern region would convince one of the 
truth of the assertion made by the settlers as to the 
absence of "ague" in this swampy region. They say 
the reason is that in traveling over these roads the 
"shakes" received is so great in comparison to the 
"ague shakes" that the latter clears out in disgust. 
These roads are constructed by cutting a strip 
through the pines and laying the logs, which measure 
perhaps a foot in diameter, close together, side by side, 
with a big "bolt" between each one. They are, in 
fact, identical with the famous corduroy roads, so 
often seen in the dismal swamp regions of Virginia and 
Carolina. 
To the fishermen, these northern lakes are a veri- 
table paradise. So abundant are the finny species 
that the settlers look with disgust upon the pike and 
pickerel which in more southern waters are esteemed 
so highly. 
As those familiar with camp life know, one after a 
time begins to hanker for fresh milk to sweeten the 
coffee. This was preeminently the condition of things 
among the members of our crowd, and so the boys de^ 
termined to alleviate their sufferings in this direction 
if possible by milking one of the settler's cows they 
had seen running around loose not far from our camp. 
The same day this decision was reached, I happened 
to be going along one of the lumber jack trails, and 
saw a most comical sight. Three of the boys had cap- 
tured the settler's cow, and one was holding her with 
all his might by the horns and another had her by the 
tail, while the third was making a vain effort to milk 
her. But she was farrow, and consequently would 
kick and hist up behind every time an effort was made 
to induce her to give down the lacteal fluid. Finally 
they had to give it up as a bad job, but not before we 
had made a sketch of this laughable performance, which, 
however, we were careful not to show the boys, as 
we knew only too .well what the consequences would 
be if we did. Clement L. Webster. 
Coahoma's Snakes. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I will submit my final notes on the rattlesnakes by way 
of obituary, both being now defunct. 
On December 26, at 10 o'clock A. M., the temperature 
being then twenty-three and a half degrees, the snakes 
were found with some power of movement in the neck 
and upper part of the body. Also a slight protrusion of 
the tongue was observed, betraying some degree of con- 
sciousness remaining. During the day, with a maximum 
temperature of thirty degrees, the larger snake having 
been stretched out into a hoop shape, managed to resume 
the customary position of repose in a coil. 
On December 27, with a temperature of twenty-two de- 
grees, they were again observed and again showed a 
slight power of movement, though the manifestation was 
very faint. I had taken the larger snake out from under 
some gunny sacks and straw, and thinking he would get 
some sunshine during the day, he was left exposed, where 
he remained forgotten during the following night, with 
a minimum thermometer reading of seventeen degrees. 
The following morning I found that the rats that had 
been fellow prisoners with the rattlers for several months 
in apparent harmony, had attacked this snake's lower 
jaw, and had eaten the flesh away from the jaw bones. 
The snake seemed then completely inanimate, so I laid 
them both out on the floor, picking them up in my hand, 
and severed their heads with a hatchet Both bled freely, 
and the two or three inches of neck remaining attached 
to the head of the smaller one was found half an hour 
later curled around so that the stub end nearly touched 
the head. 
The larger head was dissected by Dr. J. W, Gray, the 
object being mainly to locate the poison glands and the 
exact position of the poison sacs. We were unable to 
locate the glands that secrete the venom. The poison 
sac is contained mainly in the cavity of the bone en- 
largement to, which the base of the fang is adherent. I 
say adherent to the bone enlargement because there is 
reason to believe that when the old fang is displaced to 
make way for a new one, the plane of severance is be- 
tween the base of the fang and the bone enlargement 
The perforation through the fang for the ejection of the 
venom does not extend through its base and into the 
bone cavity that contains the sac; but there is an orifice 
through the wall of the fang just above its base, on the 
outside of its line of curvature, in a position similar to 
that of the "vent hole" of a cannon with reference to the 
breech. This organ is so enveloped in loose folds of 
fleshy matter that it is difficult to discern the relations 
of the poison sac to the orifice at the base of the fang; 
but it (the sac) must necessarily project outside the 
bone cavity, and fold over so as to embrace the orifice. 
It seems a singular coincidence that the half dozen rats 
that had occupied the box with the snakes for several 
months, as soon as the latter were removed cut a hole 
through the end of the box and made their escape. Had 
this been done earlier the snakes might have escaped also, 
at least the smaller one. 
In dissecting the snake's head the usual assortment 
of extra fangs were found in varying stages of inuna< 
