Night fell, and with it came a cessation of hostilities. It must not be concluded that the Indians had abandoned the fight, for they did not, but kept a wary eye upon that little island, knowing that delay would surely put the palefaces in their possession. Nor did they make any venture to attack the stronghold of the enemy under cover of darkness. That was not the Indian’s way of conducting his warfare. The hour favorable for the Indian raid is just about dawn, when they expect to find the enemy asleep, when they fall upon their unsuspecting victims and butcher them unmercifully. As for the little band on the island, they put in a most miserable night. An enemy could not wish them more discomfort than what they experienced. Tired, hungry, surrounded by their dead companions, they were not in a condition to find comfort in a situation where they were surrounded by their mortal enemies who, they thought, would take advantage of the darkness to crawl up to the very edge of their retreat and do them to death without mercy. However, in spite of such unpleasant conditions, the besieged kept up some show of cheerfulness. Morning found them far from depressed though the situation had not changed for the better. One wag, in spite of the fact that death might be lurking in his path, cheerfully remarked, “Well, boys, I guess I shall have to rustle some mule meat for the General’s breakfast. I suppose he will like a change of diet as he had only horse meat yesterday.” It was this spirit of mirth amid trying surroundings that kept the little band alive and ready during the long days of imprisonment that followed.
STARVING ELK
The next evening did not bring any change in their environments. The day had been spent very much like the preceding one, except there were no direct assaults upon the island. In the meantime the General’s leg had become badly swollen, and inflammation had set in. Whilst bathing it, one of the boys discovered the bullet close to the surface, and with the General’s permission performed a surgical operation with a pocket knife and removed the shapeless mass of lead. In order to keep the inflammation down as much as possible, the embryo surgeon continued the application of cold water to the affected part, which was somewhat efficacious. With the condition of the camp in such a demoralized condition, the outlook did not appear very promising. Even though the Indians should leave, which was not very likely, the situation would not be relieved to any great extent, as the General could not travel without the aid of a horse, and just then all the horses were dead, or had been stampeded. Things were beginning to assume a desperate aspect. Their food supply was about reduced to nothingness as the horse flesh on which they had been subsisting was no longer available as it was fast becoming tainted. This told them only too plainly that their stay upon the island was to be of short duration, and the prospect of relief from the outside world was very slight. Their only hope, and that a forlorn one, was to cut their way out through the ranks of the hostile Indians, and even the prospects of success in such a venture were not very alluring. Though they might succeed in breaking through the red cordon that held them prisoners on the island, the hope of reaching Fort Wallace could hardly be thought of in their enfeebled condition. It would amount to this, that they would have to fight their whole way back to the fort without so much as a cracker or a drink of water to sustain them on the way. It is hardly possible to imagine a body of men in such straitened circumstances keeping up, and even fighting against hope for delivery. After reviewing the situation from all its different angles, and with the desperation that urges a drowning man to grasp at a straw, the General saw but one way, and that one indicated very meager chances of success, namely, to call for volunteers who would endeavor to make their way to the Fort and bring assistance. Immediately, upon the proposal being made, S. E. Stillwell, better known by the name of Jack, and another scout named Pierre Truedell, expressed their willingness to make the attempt. It was sad enough to have to admit the failure of the expedition and report the news of the disaster, especially when they had started out with high hopes of success, but it was a measure that had to be taken if any relief was to be expected.
It was a perilous undertaking fraught with all manner of hardships. Danger lay all around them, and whether they would reach the end of their journey, or be taken prisoner and tortured by the Indians, they did not know, but brave at heart, they feared not, but set out to do their best or perish in the attempt to bring succor to their beleaguered companions. That same evening they stole forth from the camp and crossed the little stream, taking with them the best wishes and prayers of their fellow scouts for success. If ever men prayed fervently and expressed sincere wishes, it was on that occasion. No sooner had they crossed the stream than their difficulties began. As soon as they had crossed the water, they found their shoes filled with sand and water, and they were compelled to stop and empty them as well as they could. Then they started on their perilous undertaking in earnest. They did not know at what moment they would encounter some of the lurking foe and be compelled to fight for their lives. They did not dare to walk upright, but got down on all fours and crawled along over the sloping hillsides like dry land terrapins. Slowly, carefully, they wound their way among the dead Indians that littered the plain. Painfully they picked their way with tedium through the sullen foe, at times making haste as best they could in their stooping position, at times lying flat upon the ground while some restless Indian kept guard and patrolled his beat upon the hillside. During one of those unavoidable delays, Stillwell took time to change his shoes from which he had not been able to entirely remove the sand, and which were hurting his feet on that account, for a pair of moccasins which he removed from the feet of a dead Indian he encountered in his slow progress. After creeping like an infant on all fours or worming themselves along on their stomachs for over a mile they decided to risk standing up and in this manner increasing their speed, as they felt certain they were outside of the circle of Indians who were keeping watch on the little band of their comrades on the island. Their conclusion about their position relative to the savages proved correct. When they had gone far enough to permit them to risk whispering to each other, Truedell complained that his feet were hurting him on account of the quantity of sand in his shoes. As there was no dead Indian near who had no further use for moccasins, he adapted himself to the necessity of the case and removed his shirt. This he tore into bandages in which he wrapped his feet. They were well aware of the fact that there was no time to be lost in their mission, as every moment of unnecessary delay meant hardship, suffering and danger to their companions recently left behind. They strode on at a greater speed than before, but did not feel safe in talking in their natural tone of voice until they had put several miles between themselves and their starting point. Daylight found they still trudging hastily on, but the light compelled them to seek shelter in a friendly canyon, as the Indians would be sure to find their trail sometime during the hours of light and likely set out to overtake and kill them. Into the canyon they crawled and sought the shelter of the most secluded nook they could find. They then sat down to take a much needed rest. Fortunately for them, they had taken the precaution to bring with them some of the horse meat. They had matches but did not dare risk lighting a fire as the smoke would attract the attention of the Indians and bring them down upon them post-haste. They contented themselves with making the best of a bad situation and ate the horse meat raw. Then they turned over and went to sleep. Nightfall found them on their way again with renewed energy and determination. They felt that the loss of a whole day on their journey meant added sufferings to their companions, but such delay was unavoidable if they wished to reach the Fort alive. On through the darkness they went, now running, now stumbling over the uneven ground, but doggedly moving forward with unceasing ardor. Daylight found them far from the canyon where they had spent the preceding hours of sleep. The only shelter that presented itself to their view was a dry buffalo wallow. Into this they crawled and spent the remaining hours of the day in sleep if possible, or reflecting on their trying difficulties. They had neither food nor water. It had been hours since they had taken the last sup of water, and they suffered acutely. Their lips were beginning to swell and they found talking difficult. Hunger, too, added to their discomfort, but there was no relief at hand. They had to make the best of a bad situation and hope for the best. They were willing to suffer the pangs of hunger and thirst, if they could only bring relief to their beleaguered friends. Night came at last, and they dragged themselves out of the wallow to make the last desperate effort to complete their journey. Hungry and thirsty they plunged into the darkness. Their progress was impeded owing to their weakened condition, but on and on they went, staggering and stumbling along, half mad with thirst, and tormented by hunger. Morning found them in a pitiable condition. Weary and wan they seemed as the morning sun showed them that they were not yet within sight of the fort they sought. Half maddened with suffering they were ready for anything. Truedell shot a rabbit, more by accident than design, and this they fairly tore to pieces and ate raw. They were too ravenous to wait until they could build a fire to cook it. On they went again, until they came to a buffalo hunter trail leading to the Fort. Footsore and weary they dragged themselves along till almost exhausted they found their way into Fort Wallace. They sought Colonel Bankhead’s quarters where they delivered to him the news of the disaster that had befallen the ill-fated expedition. This first and most important duty done, they then sought the canteen where they found everything that was necessary to satisfy their pressing wants. Relieved of the excitement of the journey, tired and worn in every member, conscious of the fact that they had done their share in forwarding relief to their friends still in distress, they sought convenient bunks and were soon dead to the world in deep repose.
The next night after Stillwell and Truedell had left the island, the General deemed it a prudent move to send two more scouts on the same mission. He feared that, perhaps, some misfortune had overtaken the first emissaries, and if such were the case, the report of the disaster would never reach the Fort, nor would succor come to him and his command. He called for two more volunteers who would be willing to try to elude the hundreds of savage eyes that were glinting with hate on the courageous little band, and watching every movement that took place in their primitive defense. No sooner had he issued the call than two volunteers offered themselves for the perilous undertaking. They realized the danger they would dare, but as they then stood, there would hardly be more peril in their efforts to break through the encircling foe, than there would be if they remained inert upon the island with starvation staring them in the face, and a band of bloodthirsty Indians ready to pounce upon them at the very moment they showed signs of distress.
If they did not go, total annihilation awaited them; if they did go, there was some slight chance of being liberated from their present predicament. With the odds against them, they were willing to do their best. The two courageous volunteers for the second effort were A. J. Pliley who now lives in Kansas City, and Jack Donovan. They set out in about the same manner as their two companions did on the night before, and were very successful in eluding the foe. Things went well with them until the second day. Perhaps their first success in eluding the Indians made them over-bold, but the fact remains that they were followed by a band of Redskins who discovered their trail. On the second day out on their mission they experienced a great scare. They were lying in a dry buffalo wallow when Pliley heard a noise. He peered carefully over the edge of the wallow and discovered in the distance, about half a mile away, a band of about thirty warriors coming directly towards the spot where they were lying concealed. He turned to his companion and said, “Jack, I guess it is all up with you and me. There are about thirty Indians coming straight for this wallow.” “Well,” replied Jack, “if that is the case, I am not going to trade even; I want two for one.” They were certainly in a dreadful predicament. Surrounded as they knew they would be by those relentless warriors, they determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible. They knew the process only too well. They could see already that band of warriors riding around the wallow in a circle, shooting at them on the run, or perhaps, even making a rush of it to overpower them by weight of numbers, and murder them heartlessly. Perhaps, they might make them prisoners, to be reserved for future torture. Carefully keeping an eye upon the oncoming band, Pliley kept his friend informed of their movements. It would not do to expose themselves too soon, as there might be some hope that the Indians had not discovered their actual whereabouts. On they came, and the two men spontaneously reached for their weapons to defend themselves. Nearer and nearer they came, and the besieged made ready to give them an opening salutation of welcome. A little nearer they approached and then they halted. They cast a scanning glance over the surrounding country, and apparently they were satisfied that their intended victims had eluded them. Then they turned their ponies and rode away in the direction whence they came. With a sigh of relief, the two men put back their guns, and felt that they were safe for the present. That night when they set out again, they hastened their steps as rapidly as possible, knowing that the foe was on their trail. Stumbling along in much the same condition of hunger and thirst as the two former scouts had done, they reeled into the Fort the same evening as Stillwell and Truedell. It was needless to say that there were heartfelt congratulations expressed when those four scouts met at Fort Wallace.
The band of Indians seen by Pliley and Donovan, were undoubtedly a part of the Roman Nose contingent. They had discovered the trail of the men shortly after their escape from the island and pursued them with the determination to overtake them and put them to death, but all to no purpose. They little knew how close they came to being successful in their efforts, especially as at one time they were within about forty rods of them as they lay in the dry buffalo wallow. Apparently they became discouraged in their efforts and gave up the chase.
Having received the message delivered by the four men, it did not take Colonel Bankhead long to call out every available man and horse, to fit out ambulances, and wagons laden with provisions, and make whatever preparations were necessary to relieve the wants of the distressed.
When the Indians knew that the messengers had eluded them and had likely reached the Fort in spite of all the measures they took to forestall such an event, they thought prudence the better part of valor and withdrew their forces from the neighborhood of the island. They foresaw that relief would come to the brave defenders of the little sand bar in a very short time, and as they had such small success with a small band, they felt that they would hardly be able to contend with a greater force which would be certainly sent out for their relief.