Once the relief corps got in motion, it did not let the grass grow under its feet. Their progress was necessarily slower than that of the expedition on account of the baggage they were carrying, and, also, because they had to exercise the greatest care in marching for they knew not at what time they would encounter a band of hostile Indians. The journey to the locality of the disaster occupied several days. They were rather surprised to find the nearer they approached their destination the less the presence of Indians was noted. When they drew up in sight of the island, not a savage was to be seen or heard of.
In the interim of the departure of the scouts for relief, the prisoners’ on the island suffered acutely. Around them lay the dead bodies of some of their companions whom they did not dare to venture out to bury. They were rapidly decomposing and the atmosphere was laden with the nauseating smell that accompanies such a condition either of animal, or man. Added to this was the number of dead horses, which added to the intensity of the malodorous smell. The wounded suffered more and more as inflammation set in or increased. Their condition was pitiable as very little could be done to relieve their sufferings. Above all this, they had to endure the pangs of hunger, which every day grew more and more irksome. It was a sad spectacle that the eyes of the relief corps beheld when they came upon them first. Hardly able to raise their weakened bodies from a recumbent position, the wounded endeavored to give a cheer at the sight of their deliverers, but it was such a mockery of cheer that it was enough to bring tears to the eyes of many a veteran. Those who had not been wounded, and they were few, lent a willing hand to the administration of medical assistance to their stricken companions. They felt so overcome with joy themselves that they could hardly express themselves in the intensity of their happiness. But their newly-arrived fellow scouts and soldiers knew by their looks the depth and sincerety of their feelings of gratitude, and felt happy to be able to reach them before death had overtaken the whole band.
The first duty to be attended to by the relief party, was the burial of the dead. Delay would have been dangerous and, perhaps, fatal, as they were, as mentioned above, badly decomposed. They performed the sad duty over the remains of their former companions with all the reverence that their circumstances would permit. Next, they had to look after the wants of their General. He had been suffering intensely from the wound in the scalp and in the leg. They administered such remedies as they had, which produced some relief. The rest of the wounded were attended to in much the same fashion, each one receiving what attention could be given them. When all this had been done, they made ready to set out for the fort. It was a slow journey, but in time they reached their destination where proper remedies soon restored them to fighting condition again.
The expedition of Gen. Forsythe, which he insisted on making against Roman Nose and his band, terminated in dismal failure. It had cost the lives of several valuable and experienced men, and marred to some degree the reputation for success which he had hitherto gained. Nevertheless, the lesson bore fruit. It taught the American people at large, and General Forsythe in particular that all the knowledge of Indian warfare is not taught at the military academy at West Point. In fact, it was impressed upon the minds of several who were in a position to profit by the lesson, that the “University of the Plains” was far better adapted to produce men who would be successful in that mode of fighting than any of the academies established for the purpose of instructing the neophyte in the art of conducting warlike manoeuvres.
The writer is indebted to S. E. Stillwell, better known to his friends as “Jack,” for the information regarding the battle of Arickaree, in which he played so prominent a part. His feat, alone, of bearing the message from Gen. Forsythe to Fort Wallace was sufficient to win him undying fame. In such high esteem was he held by those to whom he lent his services, that Gen. Phil. Sheridan characterized him as being the bravest and most daring young man he ever knew, and he knew a multitude of them. He was, later on, the trusted and boon companion of Buffalo Bill, “Col. W. Cody,” in fighting the Indians on the plains. At one time, later on, he was Police Judge of the City of El Reno. This position he retained until he was appointed United States Commissioner at Anadarko, Okla. This position he resigned and went to the North Plate, Neb., where he died and was buried within a day’s ride of the battle ground of the Arickaree. While he was filling the office of Commissioner at Anadarko, the writer frequently spent hours with him chatting over the events of former days upon the plains. During one of those visits, he ventured to inquire of the Commissioner if he thought he himself had killed Roman Nose. He replied that he did not know, but after taking a few puffs of his cigarette, he naively remarked that if he did not, it was attributable to his aim and not to his intention as he gave him his undivided attention from the time he came within range of his rifle until he fell from his horse. He paused then and took a few more puffs, and closed the subject by remarking, “perhaps, some of the other boys did it.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Whirlwind Raid; Great Expectations Reduced to Disappointment, etc.
For several years succeeding to terminations of the Civil War, the whole plains country, as I have said in the previous chapter, from the frontier settlements westward including a great portion of the Rocky Mountains, and from the British line on the north to the Red river of the north line of Texas, was claimed by the Indian by virtue of his title begotten of prior possession, and was used by him as a hunting ground, and also as the theatre in which to stage the settlement of tribal difficulties. As a variation from those internal battles, or wars, as you may wish to call them, they frequently made raids upon the white settlers, killing and scalping the men, kidnapping the women and children, and running off their stock as spoils of war. They roamed that vast expanse of territory at will, seeking their sustenance from the abundance of wild game with which the plains were teeming. Buffalo and deer were there in innumerable quantities and were easily slaughtered. Smaller game abounded everywhere. When the bucks returned from the chase with a buffalo or a deer to show for his efforts, the squaws took possession of the carcass, cutting off huge chunks of meat for provisions, and then tanning the hides at which they were experts. In times of peace they worked faithfully at the task of converting the green hide into something serviceable, but when the war alarm was sounded, they readily threw aside the work at hand to follow their lord and master on the warpath, not as an idle onlooker, but armed with a scalping knife and tomahawk, they followed up the work of slaughter by assisting in the scalping, or mutilating the bodies of the dead. In this last feature of the raid, they seemed to be carried away by a sort of frenzy, and the manner in which they treated the corpses of those slain, was brutal and inhuman in the extreme. In my own experience I have known squaws who were so fascinated by this kind of brutality or rather ghoulishness, that at the first notes of the war song they deserted their white husbands to follow in the wake of the war, although at the time they were drawing rations from the government and were in possession of comfortable homes.