aked back and scalped him.

That night we dug a system of rifle pits all along the barricades on the
outside, and manned them with three or four men each, but the firing was
desultory through the night, and nothing much was accomplished on either
side.

The next morning (Sunday) opened bright and beautiful, but scarcely an
Indian was to be seen. They had given up the contest, and were rapidly
retreating northward up the river. We got an occasional shot at one, but
without effect except to hasten the retreat. And so ended the second and
decisive battle of New Ulm.

In this fight between ourselves and the enemy we burned one hundred and
ninety buildings, many of them substantial and valuable structures. The
whites lost some fourteen killed and fifty or sixty wounded. The loss of
the enemy is uncertain, but after the fight we found ten dead Indians in
burned houses, and in chaparral where they escaped the notice of their
friends. As to their wounded we knew nothing, but judging from the
length and character of the engagement, and the number of their dead
found, their casualties must have equalled, if not exceeded ours.

About noon of Sunday, the 24th, Capt. E. St. Julien Cox arrived with a
company from St. Peter, which had been sent by Colonel Sibley to
reinforce us. Lieutenant Huey, who had been cut off at the ferry on the
previous day, accompanied him with a portion of his command. They were
welcome visitors.

There were in the town at the time of the attack on the 23d, as near as
can be learned, from 1,200 to 1,500 noncombatants, consisting of women
and children, refugees and unarmed citizens, all of whose lives
depended upon our success. It is difficult to conceive a much more
exciting stake to play for, and the men seemed fully to appreciate it,
and made no mistakes.

On the 25th we found that provisions and ammunition were becoming
scarce, and pestilence being feared from stench and exposure, we decided
to evacuate the town and try to reach Mankato. This destination was
chosen to avoid the Minnesota river, the crossing of which we deemed
impracticable. The only obstacle between us and Mankato was the Big
Cottonwood river, which was fordable. We made up a train of 153 wagons,
which had largely composed our barricades, loaded them with women and
children, and about eighty wounded men, and started. A more
heart-rending procession was never witnessed in America. Here was the
population of one of the most flourishi