After refreshing themselves at Shippey’s the men held a consultation and reached the decision that henceforth the command should break up into small details—a plan that seemed necessary on account of the increasing difficulty of securing food. Each group was to find its way home in the best manner it might be able to devise. Every man was ordered to rid himself of all surplus baggage, retaining only his blanket. Thus the expedition really came to an end with the crossing of Cylinder Creek. But the hardships of the men were not ended; before a number of the squads reached home they endured trials almost as severe as those encountered before crossing the Cylinder.

The experience of the little group which Frank R. Mason undertook to guide is perhaps typical of the hardships of the journey south from Shippey’s. Mason had frequently been north of Fort Dodge hunting in the timber along Lott’s Creek, and for that reason he was selected by a Webster City group to pilot them home. With his party he struck out boldly across the prairie in a line which he thought would lead to a clearing in the timber where he knew they would receive a hearty welcome. As darkness came on the men began to show exhaustion; but the looked-for timber along Lott’s Creek did not appear. One of the men, Hathaway by name, became wholly exhausted and had to be carried. Within a short time he became delirious; and then the united efforts of three of the party were needed to keep him under control, with only indifferent success. Finally passing into a stupor he was more easily managed.

When Mason and his companions reached the timber at about eleven o’clock the expected cabin could not be found. The men grew impatient and at times were inclined to criticize Mason as an incompetent guide. Having reached a slight elevation or ridge, and despairing of locating the cabin, they prepared to spend the night. Snow was cleared away until the bare ground was reached and upon this they threw themselves. They had had no food since the start; indeed they had not brought any with them, for they had expected to reach the cabin before nightfall. When they had lain sleepless for nearly an hour, voices were heard and out of the darkness appeared human forms.[282] The newcomers were Mr. and Mrs. Elwood Collins who were returning from an evening spent at a neighbor’s home.

The finding of the men is thus described by Mrs. Collins. “Husband and I, after having stayed later than usual at a neighbor’s, started for home.... All at once the outline of dark objects appeared before us.... I at first thought we might be upon a company of Indians! We were too near to retreat.... I then heard groans of distress, and I thought sobs.... We had a lantern, and as the light shone upon the place my pity was truly stirred. There, with the snow crushed beneath them, were eight men; some sitting, some reclining, and others lying flat upon their backs!”[283]

Having been piloted to the clearing the men slept that night in the cabin loft. In the morning they breakfasted hastily and resumed their journey to Webster City. Hathaway and Gates had to be left at the cabin as they were not able to proceed. This day’s experience was but a repetition of the previous one. As darkness fell the men were again exhausted, but by crawling on hands and knees they managed to reach the cabin of a Mr. Corsau where they were taken in for the night. On the following day they were taken by Corsau to Webster City. Thus ended, for this Webster City group, the fearful experience of attempting to relieve the settlers of the lake region from Indian attacks.

For the Fort Dodge men the task of making their way home was easier, as it did not necessitate the crossing of as many streams—which at this time were in flood condition. At the same time their trip was not lacking in incidents of trial. They arranged the march from cabin to cabin so that they might have no difficulty in procuring food, for they, too, made no attempt to carry supplies. More than once the men experienced trials similar to those encountered by the Mason party, and like them they too found the place searched for before hope was gone. Within three or four days after leaving Cylinder Creek, all parties had straggled in—weary, worn, and wasted. They were met with a hearty welcome from friends who had thought them in all probability lost on the northwestern prairies. All who had volunteered in the expedition returned home in safety, except Johnson and Burkholder who perished in the snow.

XXVI
THE DEATH OF MRS. THATCHER

From March twenty-sixth to April tenth, while the relief expedition from Fort Dodge and Webster City was making its way painfully to and from the scene of the massacre at the lakes, Inkpaduta and his band continued their flight. When Lieutenant Murry’s men had been sighted by the look-out, warning of their approach was communicated through the Indian camp. The warriors crouched among the willows along the creek ready to spring out upon their pursuers, while the squaws and children made hurried preparations for a hasty retreat if need be. Meanwhile, a warrior stood guard over the helpless white captives with orders to shoot them the moment the soldiers should attack. But Coursalle and La Framboise, who were guiding Murry’s men, declared that the signs were so old that pursuit would be hopeless; and so the soldiers returned to the main command. No sooner had they started on their return than Inkpaduta fled from his temporary camp and began the long journey to the Big Sioux, the James, and the region beyond.