CHAPTER IX,

FORSYTH'S BATTLE OF THE ARRICKAREE FORK.

T Fort Hays having learned that the scouts, who had fought the savages on the Arrickaree, had returned to Fort Wallace, the time of my visit to that post was hastened. As soon as the civilities incident to my arrival were over, I seized the earliest moment to mingle with the scouts in their own camp, and at his own request afterwards, met their brave commander in the hospital. From the scouts themselves I learned the following particulars of this brilliant and heroic achievement; I allude to it, somewhat in detail, because it is a sample of the ill-requited, but desperate character of warfare on the plains.

During the latter part of August, 1868, General Sherida authorized the organization of a body of scouts, for the purpose of making a thorough reconnoissance of the country towards the north, between the Republican and the Smoky Hill rivers, in order to discover the movements of the savages who had committed the depredations on the Solomon and the Saline. Forty seven picked frontiersmen were found willing to undertake the hazardous mission. Colonel Forsyth, and Lieutenant Beecher, of the 3d infantry, were assigned to command, and Dr. Moers attended the party as surgeon. A body of men had never assembled better adapted to the work. The majority were old plain's men, accustomed to every hardship and “dead shots" with the rifle. The party set out from Fort Hays moving towards the Solomon, and scouting westward, brought up at Fort Wallace. This preliminary movement was without incident worthy of note.

After refitting at Fort Wallace, on September 10, the expedi tion set out once more. Two days after, a small war-party of Indians was discovered but was not considered worth pursuing. Three days more were consumed in reaching the Republican, and following its winding course until arriving at the Delaware or Arrickaree Fork. During this time but few savages were seen, though the indications of the recent presence of large numbers were unmistakable.

At daylight, on the morning of September 17, before the scouts had saddled their horses, shouts of Indians! Indians! were given. An advanced party of twelve savages dashed towards the scouts yelling fiercely, firing and waving their blankets, in hopes of stampeding the animals. Seven horses made their escape and were taken. The rest were seized and, with great difficulty, prevented from getting away. After brisk firing the attacking party was driven off. Orders were then given to saddle and mount, but before the command could be complied with the country, in the vicinity, literally swarmed with warriors. From their trappings, they were discovered to be Cheyennes, Arrapahoes and Sioux.

The position occupied by the scouts was greatly exposed. The valley in which they stood was covered with high grass, under protection of which the Indian sharp-shooters, with comparative safety were enabled to approach within easy range. The scouts, therefore, fell back and took position on a small island in the stream near by. The new ground had the advantage of an open space for some distance on all sides. Closely pressed, in making this movement, they were compelled to abandon what few supplies they had left, and also their medicines.

Upon reaching the island, the men tied their horses to a few stunted trees, and immediately prepared for action. The savages finding themselves foiled in what they evidently relished as an easy capture of their prey, were mad with rage. Over

two hundred of their number were dismounted to act as sharpshooters, while five hundred of their bravest warriors remained in the saddle and prepared to charge. The mounted savages

disrobed themselves of all useless trappings. With faces bedaubed with war paint, bodies bare to the waist, with shields, bows, arrows, spears, rifles and pistols, flourishing in the air, they presented a fearful scene for the contemplation of the beleaguered party.

The old war-chief addressed his warriors. The "big medicine man galloped up and down in front beating his drum and exclaiming "the white man's bullets will melt before you." The women and children gathered on the hills around to see their people scalp the pale face. Some danced and shouted, others pressed closely upon the rear of the warriors, determined to follow and share with them their bloody work.

These were breathless moments on the island. The day was bright and cheerful. The savage warriors were seen upon the plain making their final dispositions preparatory to an attack.

It was now nine o'clock in the morning. A few desultory shots had been fired. The women could be heard chanting their songs of victory. The old men narrated the deeds of their forefather's to excite the emulation of the young. The medicine man shouted and beat his drum.

The war-chief with all the dignity of command, now waved his weapons, and gave the fierce war-whoop. With one responsive yell the warriors dashed across the plain. On the island all was quiet. Each man held his weapon firmly and calmly for a desperate defence. With yells, and violent gestures, on came the surging savage hords. As the advanced line plunged within range, the quick rifles of the scouts greeted them. Suddenly a wall of fire rose to check the tide. Many a warrior bit the dust. The savage front quivered, for a moment it hesitated. Every instant was in favor of the scouts. Their fire grew more rapid and their aim steadier and more deadly. Astounded at the opposition the savage line halted, and the next moment was sent reeling back out of range. Within ten feet of the position of the scouts were several bodies of the "red skins," either lifeless or writhing in the agonies of death, while others were being dragged off by their fellow-warriors.

The scouts also suffered. Forsyth, the ball lodging in second ball struck him in the the bone about the centre, and passing out in front. At the same time Beecher received a ball in the side, which passing through the body, fractured the spine, proving mortal. Dr. Moers was shot in the head and died three days afterwards.

The first one of the party hit was the upper part of the leg. A calf of the left leg, fracturing

All the officers were now either killed or wounded. The savages, undaunted at the warm reception they had received, were evidently resolved to try another attack. Notwithstanding his wounds Forsyth continued in command, giving his orders through his trusty chief of scouts, Grover, or "sharp Grover," as he was designated by his comrades. Grover was just the man for the desperate emergency.

The lull in the conflict was improved by digging rifle pits, which was accomplished with sheath and jack-knives. Grover enlarged the area of his pit, so as to afford protection for his commander.

The savages were ready to attack a second time. The chief, with a bearing of command, and in a voice of authority, addressed his people. "Young warriors, we are many and the whites are few. The white bullets are wasted. Once more and we bring the white man's scalp to our fires."

The warriors yelled assent. Grover, understanding the chief's language, took an opportunity to respond to the royal savage. At the top of his voice he shouted, "Hello, old feller, got any more people to kill? This is pretty tough, ain't it?" The surprised chief involuntarily shouted back, "you speak right straight."

The

Just before noon the Indians made their second attack. scouts, better protected, took cooler aim. The Indian line again reeled and fell back. Immediately a renewed effort was made but was again unsuccessful. In these attacks two of the

scouts were killed.

Failing to accomplish their purpose the warriors opened fire upon the horses tied to the trees. After a considerable con

sumption of ammunition, the death of the last animal was announced by a young warrior, who sprung from behind a bunch of grass about a hundred yards distant, exclaiming in good American, "there, the last d- -d horse is shot."

Between ten and three o'clock in the afternoon, the savages again attacked, but in their own mode of fighting, by circling around the scouts, indulging in bravado, and gesticulating violently. This was the last regular attempt of the day.

Forsyth now found his condition to be anything but cheering. Himself disabled, his lieutenant dead, his surgeon barely alive, three men killed and fifteen wounded, all this out of an aggregate of fifty. The savages were still besieging him. His horses were killed and his command was almost out of food. It was necessary, at all hazards, to notify the troops at Fort Wallace of his condition. Two daring young men, Stillwell and Truddell, volunteered for the dangerous mission. With their trusty rifles in hand and a scanty supply of food, the messengers disappeared in the darkness of night. In their success rested the only hope of escape. As they were departing, borne upon the still air, were sounds of woe from the savage camp. The songs of victory in the morning were now turned to the sorrowing tones of wailing. The dead were receiving the last offices of the living, and the wounded, in their moments of agony and death, heaped imprecations upon their pale-faced enemy.

Early the next morning a party of savages dashed upon the island, probably imagining the scouts had left. A well-directed volley, not only changed the direction of their gallopade, but two warriors were brought to the ground as a punishment for their temerity.

No regular attack was made during the day, which gave the scouts an opportunity to sink wells and make other preparations to sustain a siege. The most alarming danger which now made itself felt was the scarcity of food.

On the third day a war party was seen stealthily peeping over the hills, evidently looking for a chance to make a dash. On the same afternoon, twenty-five warriors approached, bear