General Gibbon suggested to Bostwick, his post guide, that he take four
or five men and drive this herd back up the canyon, but Bostwick replied
that there was probably a strong guard over the herd who were sleeping
at the moment, somewhere near by, but who would be awakened by any
attempt to drive the horses; that it would take several men to whip
them, and that the fight would alarm the camp. The General was so
impressed with the scout's reasoning that he at once countermanded the
discretionary order. It subsequently transpired, however, that the
Indians had felt so secure for the time being that they had not a
herder or a camp-guard out, and had Gibbon known this at the time he
could have captured this entire herd without firing a shot, and thus
have placed his enemy in a most critical situation.

Down the side of this steep bluff, thickly overgrown with sage brush,
mountain laurel, and jack pines; over rocks and through break-neck
ravines and washouts, the soldiers and citizens picked their way with,
all the skill and adroitness of trained hunters, until at last they
reached a position overlooking the Indian camp, and within 150 yards of
the nearest teepees. The camp was pitched on the south bank of the
Wisdom or Big Hole River, which is formed by the confluence here of
Trail and Ruby Creeks. It was in an open meadow, in a bend of the
river, and was partially surrounded by dense thickets of willows. There
were eighty-nine lodges pitched in the form of a V, with the angle up
the stream, and below the camp 400 or 500 ponies grazed peacefully,
tethered to stakes and willows. The Indians had evidently secured them
there in order to be prepared, ready for any emergency. The command
halted here, and laid down to await the coming of daylight, but not to
sleep.

It was now 2 o'clock in the morning, and the men suffered with cold,
for even the summer nights are cold in these mountains, and they had
neither overcoats nor blankets, having left all these with the wagons.
The smoldering camp-fires flickered fitfully in the pale starlight, and
the smoky lodges of the savages presented a most fantastic picture, as
the dying lights blazed with ever-changing weirdness upon them. Eagerly
the soldiers watched the scene, and with bated breath thought of the
awful tragedy that the rising sun would look upon in that now peaceful
valley.

"They have no idea of our presence," said Bostwick, the half-breed
scout. "After a while you wil