This Indian went by the name of White Bird, and
he was beyond doubt the worst disfigured piece of humanity I ever
saw, but he fought on, and he seemed to say by his actions:
"I am slightly disfigured, but still in the ring."
About sundown the two armies again withdrew for refreshments and
repairs.
That evening after eating my supper! went over to White Bird's
wick-i-up and found him sitting there, bloody from head to foot,
with a huge cut on one cheek, another on one side of the head, and
numerous other wounds, making him the most horrible specimen of
humanity that I had ever seen living. He had not even washed the
blood from his face or hands, but was sitting there telling his
squaw and children how many Utes he had killed during the day,
apparently as cool and unconcerned as though nothing had happened
him. But he was not able for duty the next day, and died about ten
o'clock.
We never learned where the Indians buried their dead, for they
took them away during the night and disposed of them in some
manner.
There were more Indians killed and wounded the second day than the
first, and that night the Comanches had a big war-dance over the
scalps they had taken.
The morning of the third day each tribe marched down at about the
usual hour and resumed their positions in the line of battle, and
that morning they fought more cautiously than before, until about
ten o'clock, when the Utes made their first big charge on the
Comanches, and they had a hard fight, which resulted in the death
of many Indians, and the Utes retreated with considerably the
worst of it.
Pages:
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112