, when the last redskin had disappeared.
"The whole village will know the soldiers are near by."

"Lieutenant," said I, "give me that note. I'll take it to the general."

He gladly handed me the dispatch. Spurring my horse, I dashed up the
creek. Soon I observed another party of Indians returning to the
village with meat. I did not wait for them to attack me, but sent a
shot after them at long range.

In less than an hour I reached the camp and delivered the dispatch to
General Carr. "Boots and Saddles" was sounded, and all the troops save
two companies, which were left to guard the supply train, were soon
galloping toward the Indian camp.

When we had ridden three miles we met Lieutenant Ward. He had run into
a party of Indian hunters. One of their number had been killed in the
encounter, and one of Ward's horses had been wounded.

At the end of five miles we came in sight of hundreds of Indians,
advancing up the creek to meet us.

They formed a complete line on our front. General Carr, who wanted to
strike their village, ordered the troops to charge, break through the
line, and keep straight on.

No doubt this movement would have been successfully executed had it not
been for the daredevil, rattle-brained Lieutenant Schinosky, commanding
Company B. Misunderstanding the orders, he charged on the Indians on
the left, while the rest of the command swept through the line. The
main body was keeping straight on toward the village when it was
discovered that Schinosky and his company were surrounded by five
hundred Indians.

To save the company, General Carr was forced to order a halt and hurry
back to the rescue. During the short fight Schinosky had several men
and a number of horses killed.

Valuable time had been consumed by the rescue. Night was coming on. The
Indians were fighting desperately to keep us from reaching their
village, whose population, having been informed by courier of what was
going on, was packing up and getting away.

During the afternoon we had all we could do to hold our own with the
mounted warriors. They stayed stubbornly in our front, contesting every
inch of ground.

The wagon-train, which had been ordered to come up, had not arrived.
Fearful that it had been surrounded, General Carr ordered the command
to return and look for it. We found it at nine o'clock that night, and
went into camp.

Next morning, when we moved down the creek, not an Indian was to be
seen. Village and all, t