They had been supplied with the regular
cavalry uniform, but on this occasion some of them had heavy overcoats,
others large black hats with all the brass accoutrements attached; some
were minus trousers and wore only breech-clouts. Some had regulation
pantaloons, but only shirts. Part of them had cut the breech of their
pantaloons away, leaving only the leggings. Still others had big brass
spurs, but wore no boots nor moccasins.
But they understood the drill remarkably well for Indians. The commands
were given them by Major North, who spoke their tongue as readily as
any full-blooded Pawnee. They were well mounted, and felt proud of the
fact that they were regular United States soldiers. That evening after
the drill many ladies attended the dance of the Indians. Of all savages
I have ever seen, the Pawnees are the most accomplished dancers.
Our command set out on the trail the next day. Shortly afterward, when
we were encamped on the Republican River near the mouth of the Beaver,
we heard the yells of Indians, followed by shots, in the vicinity of
our mule herd, which had been driven down to water.
Presently one of the herders, with an arrow still quivering in his
flesh, came dashing into the camp.
My horse was close at hand. Mounting him bareback, I galloped after the
mule herd, which had been stampeded. I supposed that I would be the
first man on the scene.
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