e main village of these Apaches and Utahs
fell into the hands of the Americans. It proved to be rich in plunder,
for it contained all their stock of dried buffalo meat, besides other
provisions. Also several cart-loads of robes, saddles, weapons, ropes,
skins, blankets, trinkets and camp equipage. Most of this property was
collected and destroyed by fire, being of little use to the command,
whose means of conveyance was limited to their own actual wants.
The number of Indians killed in this surprise has been variously
estimated, as has been also the number of the red men on the ground
when the carnage commenced; but all agree that this was the severest
blow these savages had ever received.

Among the many other objects of curiosity found by the victors, was
a "Medicine lodge," which had, from appearance, but recently been in
full blast. It was highly (and to Indian eyes it must have been very
artistically) decorated, and contained all the emblems and symbols of
witchcraft. If sickness was to be frightened away, or even coaxed
to dethrone itself from the afflicted, there was sufficient in this
temple of the Indian gods, seemingly, to have answered either purpose.
Some potentate of the magnitude of a great chief had, evidently, but
a few hours since, been its occupant; for, in his hurry to desert
the premises, on hearing the music of the white man's rifle, he had
forgotten his beautiful head-dress of feathers, and other articles
pertaining to his wardrobe, which designated to the captors his high
rank. Perhaps, and the surmise may not be far out of the way, this
chief was suffering from a gun-shot wound inflicted in a recent
fight by his pale-faced enemy, and having received one of their
most dangerous potions of lead, he was not anxious for another, and
therefore made his escape with the activity of a well man.

In this expedition, a company of artillery,[11] who have before been
described, doing duty as infantry, performed a feat that will compare
well with anything of the same kind on record. These men, under the
command of Lieutenant Beall, who shared all the privations of his
soldiers, marched on foot through a mixture of mud and snow, nearly
ankle deep, over an uneven country, from the Mosco Pass in the Valley
of San Luis, to the head-waters of the Arkansas River, a distance
which is computed at eighty-five miles, in thirty-six hours, including
all their stoppages. This company had been long celebrated as being
ex