Little Pills, An Army Story

lled the Navajo country. While there I saw one of the squaws making a Navajo blanket. I supposed it would be called weaving but was unli

filling or woof worked in under and over the threads forming the warp and pressed in place by a little flat piece o

ul of garnets the Indians had brought him from the little ant hills so abundant in the country. I sent a few of the choicest stones to Tiffany & Company of New York and had tw

the stage road and were trying to find one that would take us to a crossing on the river. We were about to enter the town or pueblo, for it was an Indian pueblo, when we had a good view of the fire which proved to be an immense bonfire in the middle of the street with many people gathered around it. An Indian met us and gave us to understand that we could go no farther. With what little Spanish we could command, and by signs, we got him to understand that we wanted to reach the command on the other side of the river. By that time another Indian or two had joined us and they at once took the matter in hand. One of them got into the ambulance and by signs indicated to the driver which way to go and the first man to meet us signalled Mr. Krause and myself to follow him. He would take us through the pueblo, but started around the outskirts of the place and

kely to get drunk and be put in the guardhouse and cause delay in getting away from the town. It seems however, that some of them had money and those disposed to load up on "tangle-foot" had borrowed enough to put themselves past good marching condition, for at roll call preparatory to being paid off, some were missing and came straggling into camp one at a time later on in the afternoon, one without shoes, hat or clothing, excepting underwear, and one entirely naked. They had fallen

nation at Fort Dodge. There was little of interest on the way to Fort Lyon, the usual routine of making and breaking camp and marching during the day. By this time the men

ons and gambling halls. I had some curiosity to see the later, so we visited one. It was located in a long room a hundred feet or more in length by probably forty feet wide, in which there were many tables, at most of which were men engaged in playing games. The poker players sat at small tables, four or five players around each one, with stacks of chips or money at their side, or perhaps a buckskin sack conta

wife and baby boy again. We rested over for two or three days at Fort Lyons and then started on the last long lap of nearly two hundred miles down the Arkansas river to Fort Dodge, Kans. We did not see a habitation or a soul on the way except at one place where a man was standing a

r, and fired. At the crack of the rifle he started for me and of course I turned and ran, and ran for my very life. I thought how hopeless it looked for me, for the camp seemed far away, but I did my best. Finally I could hear him close behind me and while I expected every moment to be gored it occurred that he was breathing heavily, and I kept the pace as best I could until the breathing seemed less distinct and looking over my shoulder I discovered that he had stopped running and was walking around and around. However, I kept going until I was sure I was at a safe distance and then fell on the ground and lay there for a while. My heart was beating like a trip-hammer. I had no n

than my hand and one of the bullets lodged under the skin on the opposite side which I was careful to keep as a souvenir of the chase. Some of the enlisted men who had gone out to the right for a

ut and killing it and thus have some of the glory of the chase. He asked permission to take my riding mule that followed behind the ambulance. I readily gave my consent and watched the proceedings with a good deal of interest. He started away at full speed with a pistol in one hand swinging it in anticipation of a great victory. All went well enough until the mule got close to th

ave as warning. I gathered the baby in my arms and we all ran for the river. Fortunately there was a sandbar extending out from the bank and we jumped some four or five feet down to that, and huddled up against the bank until the danger was past. There was a strong wind blowing and it was all over in a few moments. We thought of the ammunitio

note at that time. The road from Fort Dodge to Fort Hayes was a very desolate one. By starting early and urging our team along until after dark we came to a stream bordered by timber where we camped for the night. It was snowing very hard when we reached camp and by morning there were six or eight inches of snow on the ground. The road was so obscure in many places that we were doubtful whether we were on the right road or on any road at all. Not a house or sign of life in all that great white waste and even

rally known as "Wild Bill," but his name was Hickok and his brother had been our wagon master from Fort Wingate to Fort Dodge. He did not look wild at

St. Louis wa