It was highly amusing to hear them do this. They would try to
remember what the man on the next post had said. For example, when a
white soldier called out "Post Number One, Half-past Nine and all is
well!" the Indians would cry out "Poss Number half-pass five cents go
to h--l I don't care." So ridiculous were their efforts to repeat the
calls, that the general finally gave it up and countermanded the order.
One day, after an uneventful march, Major North and I went out on
Prairie Dog Creek in advance of the command to kill some buffaloes.
Night was approaching, and we looked about for a suitable camping-place
for the soldiers. Major North dismounted and was resting, while I rode
down to the creek to see if there was plenty of grass in the vicinity.
I found an excellent camping spot, and told North I would ride over the
hill a little way, so that the advance guard might see me. This I did,
and when the advance guard came in sight I dismounted and lay down upon
the grass to rest.
Suddenly I heard three or four shots. In a moment Major North came
dashing toward me, pursued by eight or ten Indians. I at once sprang to
the saddle and sent several shots toward the Indians, fifty or more of
whom were now in sight. Then, we turned our horses and ran.
The bullets sang after us. My whip was shot from my hand, and the
daylight was let through the crown of my hat.
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