(see print) at
the cemetery, and a coffin was made. Just before sunset, the body was
carried, followed by the father and other relatives, with chaplain,[2]
officers, soldiers, and Indians. The chaplain read the beautiful
burial-service, interpreted by another to them.

[2] Rev. A. Wright, post-chaplain, U. S. A.

One said, "I can hardly describe my feelings at witnessing here this
first Christian burial of an Indian, and one of such consideration
among her tribe. The hour, the place, the solemnity, even the
restrained weeping of the mother and other relatives, all combined to
affect me deeply."

It is added: the officers, to gratify Monica's father, each placed an
offering in her coffin. Colonel Maynadier, a pair of gauntlets, to keep
her hands warm (it was winter), Mr. Bullock gave a handsome piece of
red cassimere to cover the coffin. To complete the Indian ceremony, her
two milk-white ponies were killed and their heads and tails nailed on
the coffin. These ponies the Indians supposed she would ride again in
the hunting-grounds whither she had gone.

AN INDIAN RAID ON SIDNEY STATION, UNION PACIFIC RAILROAD.

In the month of April, 1868, while returning from the East, we took
dinner at Sidney Station, on the railroad, four hundred and fourteen
miles west of Omaha, at noon. While we were there, two freight
conductors brought in their trains and dined at the same time we did,
and when we started they were on the platform and said good-by to us.
They concluded to go out a fishing, a mile or two from the settlement,
behind one of the bluffs. We had not left on our way to Cheyenne more
than about an hour, when we learned by telegraph at "Antelope Station"
(thirty-seven miles), that a band of twenty or thirty Sioux Indians had
come suddenly upon the two conductors, named Cahoone and Kinney, and,
after a severe conflict, had shot both through with arrows, and scalped
one of them (Cahoone), besides killing some of the railroad hands at
work repairing the road near by the scene of conflict. Presently we met
a special train, consisting of engine and caboose-car, coming with
tremendous speed,--one mile a minute,--containing Dr. Latham, surgeon
of the railroad from Cheyenne. It seems that the soldiers--a small
company--were completely surprised, and not being mounted, could only
protect the station, but could not follow up the Indians to punish them
for their audacity.

There were nearly two hundred and fifty