“Do hush and go to sleep,” said Hanabi; but there was not much sleep that night.
When day came, I saw such a sight as I had never seen before. About one hundred Indians had been brought in during the night, all very badly wounded. Mother and I went around to see them. One poor fellow had his nose shot off and one eye shot out. He said he didn’t feel very well. Many of them were so badly hurt that I knew they could not live until sundown, and I thought about half of them would die that day. A few old Indians were sent over to the battle field to keep the eagles and wolves from eating the Indians that had been killed. The War Chief had been shot in the arm and in the leg, but was not very badly hurt. He had gone before I got up that morning and had taken with him all of the warriors that were able to go.
Creel
Indian grave among the rocks, Utah desert.
That night a little after dark all of our Indians returned. Washakie said that the Crows had gone into the thick timber from which he could not get them out, but that there were not many of them left anyhow. Our men brought in a very large band of Crows’ horses and saddles and when they were unpacked I never before saw such a pile of buffalo robes, blankets, bows and arrows, and guns. The next morning we all started out for the battle ground to bury our dead and oh, what a sight! There were Indians scattered everywhere all over the battle field. The squaws and papooses wailed pitifully when they saw their dead Indians lying around. Wives were hunting for their husbands; mothers were looking for their sons.
I went about picking up arrows. I had gathered quite a few when mother saw me with them.
“Throw them down quick,” she said, “the old Indians will come around and gather them. Don’t touch anything.”
“What do they want with them?” I asked.
“They will keep them for another fight,” was her answer.