A PECULIAR INCIDENT.
In connection with this story, and while held here in the hands of the Indians, and about the time Steell arrived with my value in goods, another white man was captured and brought into the Indian camp. This man was none other than Nels Kies, the prospector, who is known to have discovered and worked a gold mine somewhere in the lower country, and but a short time after this occurrence, and who, to the disappointment of many, was killed by the Indians before the location of his mines was made known. Our honored citizen, John Leply, and others were interested in this discovery, but on account of Kies being killed the mines never have been found. It may be that the “Nels Kies lost mines” are in the vicinity of Fort Andrews. Kies was allowed to go to the fort with us, but remained only a short time when he departed alone, stating that he was going to his camp.
We had a number of scraps with the Indians at this post. They came in once ostensibly to trade, but in reality to clean us out. George Steell, who was in the trading house, discovered their intentions and calling the boys to arms checked them before they started to murder us.
At the time of which I speak the Gros Ventres and Mountain Crows were at war with each other, and their battle grounds were near Fort Andrews. In one battle fought here it was estimated that one-fourth of the warriors on each side were killed. One morning, just at daylight, an alarm was given, and someone shouted: “Hostile Indians in the corral!” All rushed out at once and discovered a party of Indians and one of them leading away my favorite saddle horse. I forced my way forward and took hold of the rope attached to the animal’s neck and made a sign to the Indian that I loved that horse and would not part with him without trouble. He said that he was going to keep him and motioned me to let go of the rope. I refused. He then strung his bow and pointed the arrow at my breast. I still held on to the rope and told him that he might kill me, for I would not give up my horse. He then struck me in the breast with an arrow, cutting me quite freely, so much so that I felt the blood running down my body. I then let go of the rope, mentally resolved that if I ever got an opportunity I would make a good Indian out of that fellow. He was killed about two years after this by one of a party of white men out hunting for Crows.