Ten years in the ranks, U.S. Army

by Augustus Meyers

Uninterrupted progress was made all through the summer. We had no trouble with the Indians, in fact none came near us until fall, when they began to appear and dance for rations. The only soldiers who were absent from the fort were a small escort under a non-commissioned officer with Lieutenant Warren and his party who were surveying and mapping some of the Dakota country. They approached within a few hundred miles of the place where the National Yellowstone Park is now located, but did not seem to have ever heard of that wonderful region. It appeared to be unknown at that time. We never heard hunters or trappers speak of it, and if the Indians knew of it, they kept their knowledge to themselves.

A comet was visible for many weeks during the summer, larger and more brilliant and with a longer tail than any I have seen since. Unfortunately we had no opportunity to learn in what way the Indians regarded this phenomenon.

In the month of August, Company K arrived from Fort Ripley after a strenuous march. They crossed the Missouri at Fort Pierre in Mackinaw boats and from there came down the west bank to Fort Lookout. This company was much harassed by the Chippawa Indians, while marching through their country, though no direct attack was made. One soldier was stabbed to death by an Indian at a spring near one of their camps, where he had gone alone to fill his canteen. A sad accident occurred on this march. One sentinel shot another dead, mistaking him for an Indian because of his wearing a blanket on a cool night while on post.

Company K brought two Indian guides and their squaws with them; also an interpreter and his squaw. This interpreter proved to be the young man from my company who had deserted from Cantonment Miller about sixteen months before to join the Indians. Why he took the risk to come back in our direction I cannot imagine, unless he was misinformed at Fort Pierre in regard to the whereabouts of his old company. He was much changed, but was recognized in spite of his Indian make-up. He was arrested and put in the guard-house, which at this time was a tent from which he escaped easily on the second night, and we never heard of him again.

Brevet Major George W. Patten, whom I have previously described, was in command of Company K. He wrote an able article about the march from Fort Ripley, which was published in Harper's Magazine. As Major Patten ranked Captain Lyon, he took command of Fort Lookout on his arrival, but Captain Lyon continued to superintend the building of the post.

During the summer Capt. Lyon got an idea that some other drink besides the Missouri river water would be good for the men, and he started in to make what he intended to be spruce beer. He put us boys to work gathering cactus plants, wild hops, sprigs of spruce and a few other plants of his own selection. Then he made us mash the cactus to a pulp and boil the entire mixture in camp kettles, adding water, some molasses and vinegar. We then strained it and put it into barrels. Under the Captain's supervision it took us a week to make three or four barrels, for, according to his habit, he fussed and spent as much of his time over it as he would have given to an important matter. When this hodge-podge was brewed it was offered to the soldiers. One drink was enough to satisfy most of them. If they took any more they were likely to be unfit for duty next day, but not from any intoxicating qualities of the mixture. When it began to ferment it threw off such a sickening odor and tasted so vile that no one would drink it. Cactus was plentiful in the vicinity. Some of it bore delicious and succulent prickly-pears. Wild plums and grapes were also plentiful.

One night we were startled by the sound of a shot that came from the direction of Post No. 3, a short distance from camp. There were cries of "Corporal of the guard, Post No. 3!" and for a few moments there was great excitement.

It turned out that the sentinel on that post had shot off the little finger of his left hand. He explained that he was carrying his rifle across the back of his neck, with the left hand over the muzzle and the right on the lock "when the durned thing went off."

We suspected that he did it on purpose, hoping to get his discharge from the army for physical disability. If so, he was not liberal enough with his self mutilation, for the sacrifice of his little finger did not procure his discharge.

Near the end of summer another steamboat on the way to Fort Pierre stopped and unloaded some more stores, including a quantity of potatoes, onions and turnips to prevent a reoccurrence of scurvy. This steamer also brought a second lieutenant to join one of our companies. He was one of the appointees from civil life—the only one at the post. He hailed from one of the southern states and, for a soldier, was the most ungainly, awkward and unmilitary figure that I ever saw. He was a young man, so excessively tall that he stooped over and so thin that he barely cast a shadow. He had a glass eye that had a roving disposition. It gave him a very droll appearance. He was quite ignorant of military matters and at his first appearance on parade as officer of the day appeared wearing his sash over the wrong shoulder. Major Patten appointed him Post Adjutant shortly after his arrival, in derision, I think.