The “war” cost the Government a little less than a million and a half dollars, omnibus horses included; and it was estimated by well-informed persons that the flying Indians, while upon the route, destroyed private property to the amount of half a million more, besides killing and scalping a party of eighteen emigrants which was passing through Wyoming.
It seemed like rather a large price to pay for Mr. Achilles Smith’s scalp.
Some time during the month of September, while the chase was in progress, Achilles called at the house of Mrs. M’Duffy in Washington and asked for Pandora. He said,—
“Miss M’Duffy, I come upon a somewhat painful errand, but I have a duty devolving upon me, and I must perform it.”
“No bad news from Major Dunwoody, I hope, Mr. Smith?”
“I am sorry to say there is.”
Pandora’s eyes filled with tears. Her face became pale.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I have here a dispatch to the Secretary of War, saying that in a fight with the Indians, on last Wednesday week, Major Dunwoody—”
“Not killed! Oh, please don’t say he was slain! I can’t bear it.”