reatly inferior force Crook had assailed the Indians on ground
of their own choosing, which they believed to be impregnable, and had
administered a crushing defeat. The escalade of the wall of the
ravine, the breaching of the rampart, the storming of the fort, its
defence, its abandonment and recapture, was one of the most gallant and
heroic exploits ever performed in American history. Although he had
paid dearly for his victory, the lesson Crook had inflicted upon the
savages was a salutary one, and the disastrous defeat of the Indians in
the Infernal Caverns of the Pitt River was a great factor in bringing
about the subsequent pacification of that section.

To-day the exploit is forgotten. All the officers, save one, and I
presume most of the men, who participated, are dead. It is from the
papers of the surviving officer, Colonel Parnell, and from official
reports and a few meagre published accounts in newspapers and books
that this story of American heroism has been prepared.

[1] He lived three weeks without regaining his senses, and eventually
died at Camp Warner, Ore., over one hundred and fifty miles away,
whither he was carried with the other wounded, after the battle.

[2] The loss among non-commissioned officers was especially heavy,
showing how well these brave men did their duty.

{315}

VI

Being a Boy Out West

I am in some doubt as to whether to call this particular reminiscence
"Pants That I Have Worn" or "Trousers Like Those Mother Used to Make."
For either name seems admirably suitable to the situation.

I was the oldest son in a numerous family, and therefore had the
heritage of my father's clothes. He was an exceedingly neat and
careful man, and never--to my sorrow be it said--did he ever wear out
anything, unless it were an apple switch on me or my brothers. I had
to wear out all his old clothes, it seemed to me. It was not a matter
of choice but of necessity with me. My younger brother always escaped.
By the time I had finished anything, there was no more of it. It went
perforce to the ragman, if he would condescend to accept it.

There was a certain sad, plum-colored, shad-bellied coat that flashes
athwart my memory in hideous recollection, which wrapped itself
portentiously about my slim figure, to the great delectation of my
young friends and companions, and to my corresponding misery. I can
recall their satirical criticisms vividly even now. They enjoyed it
hugel