CHAPTER XXIX.
The Battle of Wounded Knee.
“If there is anything I do despise it is to wait on an Indian until he gets ready to do anything,” said Carl, after they had waited three or four days to receive the Sioux who had gone into the Bad Lands. “An Indian has no idea of the value of time, and he thinks that a month or six weeks from now will do the same as though he came in to-morrow. All they want is a dance to make up their minds whether to come in and surrender or not.”
Lieutenant Parker was getting sadly impatient also, and he began to think that the Indians would not come in at all, that they would be alarmed at so many troops coming to surround them, and that they would decide to stay in the Bad Lands and fight it out; but one day they were electrified by the arrival of a courier who rode at once to Colonel Forsyth’s tent.
“Something is going to happen now,” said Carl. “That man has brought news of some kind.”
“Go over there, Carl,” said Parker. “Our colonel is there. You are not an enlisted man, and you can go and come when you please.”
Carl mounted his horse, which he always kept saddled and ready for instant use, and rode over to Colonel Forsyth’s headquarters. He loafed around there for a spell, waiting to hear what was going on, and a few moments later his colonel came out.
“Can you tell me what’s up, sir?” said Carl.
“Oh, nothing, only the Indians are coming in at last,” answered the officer.
“How many of them are there?”