In going down Yellowstone Valley they were the recipients of much sympathy from the settlers. As they entered Bozeman, Lieutenant Doane and a considerable number of Crow Indian scouts and soldiers were leaving for the Park. Carpenter joined Doane’s command, with the intention of returning to the scene of the attack and attending to the burial of his brother-in-law. In mourning, Mrs. Cowan and her sister continued on to Radersburg.

But Cowan was a sturdy being; he would not die. It was nearly sundown when he regained consciousness. Wounded in thigh and head, he yet pulled himself up from his rocky “grave.” Unfortunately an Indian sentinel observed his movement, drew a bead, and fired. Cowan dropped with a fresh wound in his left side. He now felt that they had “fixed” him beyond all hope of recovery. However, he remained conscious and lay motionless until darkness settled.

Then he started a crawling retreat toward Lower Geyser Basin, nine miles away.[200] What an eternity August 24 must have seemed! Were his wife and friends safe? He had little basis for hoping so. Could he make a getaway, and was it worth the effort? About midnight he apprehended motion among the cinquefoil. It was an Indian scout, raised to elbow posture, listening. Cowan remained perfectly quiet until the watchman relaxed; then he circled the danger zone by more than a mile. Onward he dragged his tortured body, alternately resting and crawling. He finally reached the deserted wagon where his bird dog faithfully waited. She growled and menaced until recognition dawned, then hovered over him like a protecting mother. There was no food anywhere to be found, but he gathered up the sheets of Carpenter’s diary. Cowan pressed doggedly on toward the campground in the Lower Geyser Basin. During the third day a band of Indians came by his hiding place. They were friendly Bannocks of Howard’s command, but he did not know and took no chance.

On the twenty-seventh he reached the old camp, found matches, and gathered spilled coffee grains and an empty can. These netted him a cup of coffee. He passed the night there. The following day he crawled over by the road, and that effort taxed his strength to the limit. It was enough, as relief came in the form of two of Howard’s scouts, Captain S. G. Fisher and J. W. Redington. The latter said, “Who in hell are you?”

“I’m George Cowan of Radersburg.”

“You don’t say! We’ve come to bury you.”

They rendered first aid, provided food, and left Cowan by a roaring fire with the assurance that the main force would gather him up within two days. Mr. Fee has deftly described the abrupt termination of that hard earned felicity:

Cowan ate enough to keep himself alive and lay down in silent joy to sleep the night through. Towards morning he was awakened by awful heat, and found to his dismay that the vegetable mold he was lying on had taken fire and encircled him with flames. He rose on hands and knees and suffering terribly, crawled across the charred area to safety. His hands and legs were badly burned.[201]

In the meantime his scattered companions were being united. Mr. Harmon was the first to reach General Howard’s encampment at Henrys Lake. Arnold and Dingee arrived after several days and nights of hardship. Myers and Oldham were encountered by Howard’s scouts. The latter was in a pitiful state. His tongue was so swollen, as a result of his wound, that he could not speak. Shock and exposure to the cold nights, together with lack of food for four days, had left its mark upon them all.

Howard reluctantly took the whole delegation along, and on August 29 they joined Cowan in the Lower Geyser Basin. Arnold said Cowan was a “most pitiful looking object. He was covered with blood, which had dried on him, and he was as black as a negro.” Here Cowan learned of his wife’s safety, and that news, together with his friend Arnold’s “unremitting attentions,” pulled him through. The army surgeon ministered to the physical wounds of the men but no sympathy was forthcoming. The Radersburg men desired to return home by way of Henrys Lake, but they were bundled along with the command, over roads that were: