The scouts reported to the General that Indians had been crossing the river below us all day long, and the indications were that they intended to make an attack about midnight, in order to steal our teams. With this information before him, General Sibley ordered one-half the command out on guard, and the balance to lay on their arms. In an hour or so another order came, for the balance of the command to reinforce the guard, because there surely would be an attack, and it did come about twelve o’clock; but the attempt to capture the teams miscarried; for, after a few shots, the Indians retired. Having lost nearly all of their wagons and cured meat, they were in a desperate condition, and a commissary train would have been a rich prize.
On the morning we left it was astonishing how quickly we got ready, and how lonesome the canvas city looked after the bugle sounded “strike tents.” We marched out this fine morning with our banners flying, and the band playing “The Girl I Left Behind Me.”
There were no regrets, for the “beautiful Indian maiden” had not made a favorable impression on us, and we had our own little families at home.
The Sixth Minnesota was in the rear, and we were hardly beyond the limits of the camp before the Indians had taken possession and commenced firing on our rear guard. The Colonel gave the necessary commands to bring us to a “right about,” with orders to “commence firing.” The orders came in quick succession, and were such a surprise to the Indians that they took to their heels with great alacrity. They hovered about us during all the day, but did not in the least retard us in our homeward march. We were instructed to supply ourselves with water before starting, because we must march eighteen miles, to Apple river bend, before we could get a fresh supply.
The day was excessively warm, and the men became thirsty; but, behold! we look away, and a beautiful lake appears before us. “Water! water!” cry the thirsty men, and our canteens were soon empty, in anticipation of refilling them from the bosom of this beautiful lake before us. We march and thirst again, and the beautiful lake seems just as far away.
“It’s two miles to that lake,” says one thirsty soul. We march the two miles, and yet are two miles away, and the thirst and heat are intolerable.
“Surely that’s water,” said another, “but we don’t seem to get any nearer to it.”
We marched and marched; but we must be in a valley, for the lake is out of sight.
“When we get over the ridge we’ll see the beautiful lake,” comes from some one in the ranks.