forces applied an adjective to
only one of the dead. The report reads, "the service mourns the
high-souled Scott, brevet lieutenant colonel 5th infantry".[158] This
was Martin Scott, one of the most human, most lovable, and most
energetic men who ever reviewed troops on the parade ground of Old Fort
Snelling. Only from July 15, 1837, until August 20, 1837, was he in
command, but for many years he was a familiar figure around the barracks
and in the surrounding country.

Hunting was his favorite pastime, and many a time the prairie rang with
the yelping of the twenty or twenty-five dogs which he kept under the
care of a special negro servant at the fort. His deadly aim was known to
all. An army officer who insulted him was severely wounded in a duel; he
often played the part of William Tell by shooting with his pistol
through an apple placed upon the head of his negro; and if credence is
to be given to the stories which are told, even the animals were aware
that from him there was no escape. A coon sitting high on a tree was
shot at by several hunters in succession, but still remained in its
position. Captain Scott came along and took aim, whereupon the coon
asked, "Who is that?" The reply was, "My name is Scott." "Scott? what
Scott?" continued the coon. "Captain Martin Scott." "Are you Captain
Martin Scott?" There was a pause before the voice in the tree-top
continued, "Then hold on--don't shoot; I may as well come down."[159]

Martin Scott was born in Bennington, Vermont, on January 17, 1788. His
family was extremely poor, but because of his freedom from army
vices--gambling and drinking--he was able in later years to do them many
favors. His kindness was equalled only by his bravery. For gallant
conduct during the Mexican War he received several promotions, and held
a commission as lieutenant colonel when he met death leading his
regiment in the battle of Molino del Rey.[160]

A newspaper correspondent who went over the field of battle, saw a
gray-headed soldier spreading the blanket over the corpse of a fallen
comrade. "I rode up to him", wrote the reporter to his newspaper, "and
asked him whether that was an officer. He looked up, and every lineament
of his face betokening the greatest grief, replied, 'you never asked a
question sir, more easily answered, it is an officer.' I then asked him
who he was. He again replied, 'The best soldier of the 5th infantry,
sir.' I then alighted from my horse and uncovering the