AWAY WE WENT, LEAVING BEHIND US MORE THAN THREE HUNDRED FINE HORSES
Now we had to proceed more slowly, but even when fording, we never went at a pace slower than a trot; and so toward sundown we approached the grove. Heavy Runner brought us to a halt about three hundred yards from it and told Pitamakan to dismount and sneak out to see whether our little camp was still standing. He went, climbing the bank with flying leaps, and then upon hands and knees disappeared from our view into the tall, thick-growing sagebrush. At last he returned, and, as soon as he came in sight, thrust his right hand above the point of his shoulder, with the index finger extended and the others closed. "They survive!"
I almost yelled out my relief when I saw him make that sign!
During his absence the chiefs had decided which of our bands were to go on foot into the grove and which were to remain upon their horses where we were until the battle opened. I was more than glad that the band of which Pitamakan and I were members, the Kit-Foxes, was one of those chosen to go into the grove. Only the Doves, Tails, and Mosquitoes were to form the follow-up party on horseback.
"Not all the cut-throats are under the river-bank in front of the barricade," said Heavy Runner to us as we were starting. "Probably most of them are resting in this grove. As soon as they discover our approach, we must charge and do our very best to drive them from the timber toward the barricade. When the first shot is fired, we charge!"
We soon entered the grove by way of the stream bed. On and on we went, hearing nothing of the enemy until we were almost at the mouth of the stream. There we smelled smoke, and Heavy Runner brought us to a stand, then signed us to move out into the timber to the west. We climbed the bank and, looking through the willows, saw several small groups of the enemy sitting and lying about small fires that they had built. They were all unconscious of our approach, and the nearest were not more than fifty yards from us. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Pitamakan on my left raising his rifle, and I raised mine and quickly sighted it at one of the reclining figures. Of pity there was not an atom in my heart; as the cut-throats would do to that little band of sufferers in the barricade, so must we do to them, I thought.
I believe that Pitamakan was the first to fire and I second; and then all up and down our line guns boomed and bowstrings twanged. With wild yells of, "Now, Kit-Foxes!" "Now, Crazy Dogs!" "Now, Soldiers!" we rushed out into the open timber after the fleeing enemy. I noticed several of them dead as we passed their camp-fires. If shots had been fired at us I had not heard them. We had stampeded the cut-throats by our sudden attack, and they were running in the one direction that they could go, straight for the bank of the Missouri at the upper edge of the grove. There, for several moments, they made a stand and killed one of our men and wounded three. But we kept pressing closer, and the right of our line gained the edge of the grove at the river, from which they obtained a clear view of the bank and the shore. Numbers of the enemy still under the bank came running down the shore toward the grove to join their comrades who were in the point of it. Some of them fell as our right fired into them. The river-bank was no longer a shelter for them; they had not the courage to attempt to force us back, although, had they known it, they far outnumbered us and could have broken through our line. There seemed to remain but one thing for them to do, and they did it: they broke out from the point of the grove and headed up the valley, intending no doubt to gain the shelter of the tall sagebrush, in which they might stand us off until nightfall and then in the darkness make their escape.