the coach-box.

I lost my baggage, several hundred dollars of goods and money
captured by the Indians. Stopping two days at "Godfrey's," with a
force of eighteen men well armed, in three coaches bound east, we
started on again. Godfrey, who has a mortal hatred of Indians,
treated me with great kindness. This, dear sir, was my marvelous
escape. Bishop Randall writing me afterwards about it, said that it
seemed to him but little short of a miracle. Bishop Tuttle also
expressed the same view. The fall from the tongue of the coach, the
stopping of the coach just in time to call off the party that were
getting between me and the river, the sand bar in the river, on
which I rested in the last extreme, and finally, the singular
appearance of the soldiers to deliver me, are plain indications
that it was the will of God that I should be spared.

Truly yours,

WM. A. FULLER.

CHAPLAIN WHITE SAYS THERE'S A TIME TO PRAY AND A TIME TO FIGHT.

In July of the same year as the massacre at Phil. Kearney, that is to
say on the 20th July, while Chaplain White was traveling on Powder
River with Captain Templeton, Lieutenant Daniels, Lieutenant Wanns, and
J. H. Bradley, in company with five white women and two colored also,
going to join their command, and while quietly traveling along, about
fifty to sixty wild Indians came suddenly upon them just as they
approached "Crazy Woman's Fork River." At once there was a panic, and
one of the officers suddenly put on a woman's bonnet and rode off. One
woman had a babe. The chaplain, seeing all was confusion, and each one
for himself, exclaimed, "For God's sake, don't leave these women to be
murdered!" This seemed to call them to their senses, and they began to
rally, though, all told, there were but thirteen armed men. One
soldier, a German, got terribly frightened, and said, "_Isn't there
some one to pray?_" The chaplain seized him by the collar and bid him
hold his gun, saying, "_There is a time to pray and a time to fight!_"
By nightfall they had all disappeared. Lieutenant Bradley was very
courageous; for when the Indians shot their arrows, he would stoop down
and pick them up in derision.

Chaplains may be sometimes of little account, but if their record could
be written up, a large number would be found to have done noble service
during the war of the rebellion.

Chaplain John McNamara, of the 1st Wisconsin Regiment,