The command on the island had plenty to eat, such as it was. There was horse and mule meat in abundance. They ate it raw, when they got hungry enough. Water was plentiful. All they had to do was to dig the rifle-pits a little deeper, and it came forth in great quantities. It was weary waiting, but there was nothing else to do. They dared not relax their vigilance a moment. The next night, the second, Forsyth despatched two more scouts, fearing the first two might not have got through, thus seeking to “make assurance double sure.” This pair was not so successful as the first. They came back about three o’clock in the morning, having been unable to pass the Indians, for every outlet was heavily guarded.
The third day the Indian women and children were observed withdrawing from the vicinity. This cheered the men greatly, as it was a sign that the Indians intended to abandon the siege. The warriors still remained, however, and any incautious exposure was a signal for a volley. That night two more men were despatched with an urgent appeal, and these two succeeded in getting through. They bore this message:
“Sept. 19, 1868.
To Colonel Bankhead, or Commanding Officer,
Fort Wallace:
I sent you two messengers on the night of the 17th inst., informing you of my critical condition. I tried to send two more last night, but they did not succeed in passing the Indian pickets, and returned. If the others have not arrived, then hasten at once to my assistance. I have eight badly wounded and ten slightly wounded men to take in.... Lieutenant Beecher is dead, and Acting Assistant Surgeon Mooers probably cannot live the night out. He was hit in the head Thursday, and has spoken but one rational word since. I am wounded in two places—in the right thigh, and my left leg is broken below the knee....
I am on a little island, and have still plenty of ammunition left. We are living on mule and horse meat, and are entirely out of rations. If it was not for so many wounded, I would come in, and take the chances of whipping them if attacked. They are evidently sick of their bargain.... I can hold out for six days longer if absolutely necessary, but please lose no time.
P.S.—My surgeon having been mortally wounded, none of my wounded have had their wounds dressed yet, so please bring out a surgeon with you.”
The fourth day passed like the preceding, the squaws all gone, the Indians still watchful. The wound in Forsyth’s leg had become excruciatingly painful, and he begged some of the men to cut out the bullet. But they discovered that it had lodged near the femoral artery, and fearful lest they should cut the artery and the young commander should bleed to death, they positively refused. In desperation, Forsyth cut it out himself. He had his razor in his saddle bags and, while two men pressed the flesh back, he performed the operation successfully, to his immediate relief.
The fifth day the mule and horse meat became putrid and therefore unfit to eat. An unlucky coyote wandered over to the island, however, and one of the men was fortunate enough to shoot him. Small though he was, he was a welcome addition to their larder, for he was fresh. There was but little skirmishing on the fifth day, and the place appeared to be deserted. Forsyth had half a dozen of his men raise him on a blanket above the level of the rifle beds so that he might survey the scene himself. Not all the Indians were gone, for a sudden fusillade burst out from the bank. One of the men let go the corner of the blanket which he held while the others were easing Forsyth down, and he fell upon his wounded leg with so much force that the bone protruded through the flesh. He records that he used some severe language to that scout.