one of the most efficient of officers, who had been worn down by hard service, was, by the advice of the surgeon, instructed to go down the river for rest, and also to hurry forward the steamer with the supplies I had ordered before leaving the cantonment on the Yellowstone.

As our command was being prepared to march to the west, and while the steamer was but a short distance away, three men came down the river in a boat and announced the fact that the Nez Percés had crossed the Missouri some sixty miles to the west of us, at a point known as Cow Island. This was one of the occasions in military affairs when, acting upon the best information obtainable, you suddenly find yourself greatly embarrassed by new information that is directly contradictory.

The steamer was then beyond hailing distance, but as quick as thought, Sergeant McHugh, whose piece resting on the bank of the river,

of artillery was was ordered to charge his gun

and train it down the river and

commence throwing shot and shell as rapidly as possible. The reverberation of the cannon down between the high bluffs of

the river, and the bursting of shells in the air on the left bank could be heard for several miles down the Missouri, and I knew that if these sounds reached the ears of that thorough soldier, Baldwin, he would turn back and move to the sound of the guns.

I was not mistaken in the man; in the course of twenty or thirty minutes the soldiers sung out, "Here she comes." And a most welcome sight

it was, to see the black column of smoke as the steamer rounded the bend far below and came puffing up against the strong current. When he arrived, I told Captain Baldwin that I was delighted to see him, though not expecting to so soon again, and he replied that he knew something was wanted or that there was a fight, and that he wanted to be on hand in either

case.

We quickly transferred the command to the north side of the Missouri, and once more allowed the steamer to loose her moorings and proceed down the river, and the troops prepared in serious earnest for the desperate race and possible encounter. The Little Rocky Mountains is a range some fifty miles in extent, running northwest and southeast. Beyond the northern point about ten miles is a range known as the Bear's Paw Mountains, with a low divide connecting the two. My information was that the Nez Percés had taken the course that would bring them through this pass between the two ranges. Instead of going to the west of the Little Rocky Mountains, though I knew the Nez Percés to be in that direction, I marched along the base of the mountains on the east side, thereby concealing the command from the observation of the Indians, while my scouts were kept well on the crests of the mountains and to the west whenever possible.

Major Guido Ilges, who had been stationed at Fort Benton, Montana, hearing of the Indians near the crossing at Cow Island, had moved down to that point and with a small detachment of troops had boldly followed them for a short distance, but had not force enough to accomplish any decisive result. He was a thorough soldier, however, and hearing that my command was in that vicinity, sent me important information.

On leaving the Missouri River for the march north, the command was organized to move with pack-trains, leaving the wagon-trains with a strong escort to follow as best they could. Every precaution was taken to conceal the command as far as possible, and the march was made with all the celerity and secrecy practicable. Strict orders were given against firing a shot or in any way disturbing the vast numbers of buffaloes, deer and elk which we encountered. In this way we moved from early dawn to dark for four days on the grassy plain and foot-hills which bordered the eastern slope of the Little Rockies, and on the 29th tidings regarding the trail to the left reached us. Captain Maus, commanding the scouts, had used his sleepless vigilance to good purpose and had gained the information desired without disclosing his presence or that of the command.

Here occurred an excellent illustration of the loyalty of the true soldier. Captain Maus and his small band, while engaged in their scouting duties, suddenly came upon a huge bear-sometimes called the "grizzly" but in that region more properly the "silver tip"-that was evidently, conscious of its strength for it rose upon its hind feet in an attitude of defiance. Captain Maus, with the instincts of a thorough sportsman, quickly brought his rifle to his shoulder, and running his eye along the sight, just at that moment remembered the rigid orders against firing and as quickly brought it down to his side, the spirit of the soldier overcoming the strong temptation of the hunter. His small detachment then passed. on in search of larger game.

That night I received despatches from General Howard, stating that he had turned his cavalry back to Idaho, and was going to move his infantry down the Missouri River, leaving the battalion of Colonel Sturgis, six troops of the Seventh Cavalry, on the Missouri River. This made it clear that whatever encounters we might now have with the Nez Percés we were entirely beyond support.

At daylight on the morning of the 30th the command had had its light breakfast, and was in the saddle pushing on again in search of the enemy, everyone realizing that the probabilities were that a conflict would soon

Occur.

Lieutenant O. F. Long, Fifth Infantry, had been sent out very early in the morning to examine the trail found by Indian scouts, and reported the recent movements of the Nez Percés. This officer then rejoined the command and was active and brave in the engagement that followed.

Our Cheyenne and Sioux Indian allies now assumed a more serious attitude. They were well in front of the command, with their scouts and lookouts a long distance in advance, and began to show more earnestness and activity than they had heretofore. Suddenly one of these advance scouts, a young warrior, was seen galloping at full speed back over the prairie. He said something in Sioux or Cheyenne to the Indians as he passed them, and it was evident that he brought information of the discovery of the Nez Percé camp. Then an almost instantaneous transformation scene was enacted by these savages; hats, coats, leggins, shirts, blankets, saddles and bridles were quickly thrown into one great heap in a ravine or "cash" (cache) as the Indians call it. A lariat was placed over the neck of each war pony, with a double knot around his under jaw. The warrior, painted for the fray, was bedecked with the usual gorgeous long and high headdress of eagle feathers, and wore a buckskin covering about

the loins, which was his only clothing except a pair of buckskin moccasins. Springing upon their war ponies, with rifle in hand, they looked like game champions prepared for the fray, or ideal picturesque warriors arrayed for the fight. They appeared to be perfectly wild with delight, and as unlike what they had seemed twenty minutes before as two scenes of a drama. Similar spirit was manifested along the entire body of troops. "The Nez Percés over the divide," was the word that was passed quickly in low tones from mouth to mouth along the entire column. The command immediately took a trot, with an occasional canter, where the ground would admit of it, over the rolling prairie and the grass-covered valleys. As they moved rapidly forward on their spirited horses they all realized the desperate nature of the encounter to which they were moving, and yet a more light-hearted, resolute body of men never moved over any field. An occasional laugh, a happy witticism, and radiant smiles were heard and seen along the lines, and one officer complacently rode into action humming the air "What Shall the Harvest be?"-the melody of the song timed to the footfalls of his galloping steed. Rounding the northeast base of the Bear's Paw Mountains, the distance that was supposed to be a few miles, proved to be eight, and the disposition of the troops was made while they were at a trot or rapid walk, and the pace quickened as they neared the camp to a gallop and charge.

Orders were sent by Assistant Adjutant-General Baird of my staff to Captain Tyler's command (the Second Cavalry), to sweep around to the left and then down the valley, and cut off, if possible, the herd of stock from the camp, in order, to use a familiar term, "to set the Indians afoot." The Seventh Cavalry was thrown in line of battle while moving at a gallop, the commanding officer, Captain Hale riding in advance. He presented an ideal picture of the cavalry officer. He was splendidly mounted on a spirited gray horse, and wore a jaunty hat and a light cavalry short coat, while his whole uniform and equipment were in perfect order. Inspiring his followers to courage by his own example, with a smile upon his handsome face, he dashed forward to the cruel death awaiting him. The battalion of the Fifth Infantry, under Captain Snyder, was deployed in the same manner, a little in the rear of the Seventh Cavalry at first, and finally extending the line to the left, charging directly upon the camp; while the battalion of the Second Cavalry was sweeping the valley of the vast herd of eight hundred horses, mules and ponies there grazing. This gallop forward, preceding the charge, was one of the most brilliant and inspiring sights I ever witnessed on any field. It was the crowning glory of our twelve days' forced marching.