Our
Indian scouts followed the Cheyenne rapidly and the Delaware Chief,
Fall Leaf, riding at times rapidly in a circle, signaled us to hurry
up. Hurry up we did at a gallop and a trot until about one o'clock. As
we came into the valley of the Solomon's fork, the entire Cheyenne
tribe rode out of a coulee and presented a grand line of battle right
in front of us. These were probably eight hundred warriors, and as we
came into view their front was twice the length of ours. Immediately
Colonel Sumner ordered two troops of cavalry to march against their
flank. Then drawing sabers he charged their line. The Indians had been
very brave and such a thing as drawing up in line of battle had
probably never been seen on this continent. Half a dozen of their
Chiefs were seen riding up and down the line, exhorting the braves to
fight manfully, but the flash of three hundred sabers and the sight of
three hundred troopers coming straight at them was too much for the
Cheyenne braves, and they fled with whip and spur.
.
The point where this
occurred was on the east side of the Solomon fork
of the Republican river - only a shallow rivulet at this season,
August. But there is adjoining this little stream, a marsh of the worst
quicksand. The flight of the Indians took them straight through this
bottom of quicksand, but they knew the ground and only a few of their
horses stuck. Not so the troopers. Many of the latter found themselves
swamped and so lost time in the pursuit. The Indians dispersed and
disappeared in all directions. Mine were overtaken and killed. I rode
after a party of Indians who seemed to keep together. Occasionally they
turned in their saddles and fired at us without checking their ponies,
J.E.B. Stuart rode on my left. Our horses were greatly used up as this
breakneck speed had been kept up for four miles. Suddenly a big fat
Indian slid off his horse and fired at Stuart. I turned my horse and
rode in on the Indian, firing one shot, but as I fired near my horse's
ear, it scared him, and immediately jumping off my horse, tried to get
a good aim at the Indian, when to my horror, my pistol stood firmly
cocked and refused to fire. The
Indian saw my fix in a flash and ran towards me, presenting his pistol.
I threw my pistol to the ground, drew my saber and turned around my
horse's head to avoid the Indian's shot, and at that moment Stuart
dashed his horse upon the Indian, cut him on the head with his saber
and laid him prostrate. But in the same instant, the cool, old chief
put the bullet he had intended for me into Stuart's breast. The Indian
was killed and for a time we thought that Stuart was mortally wounded.
He was sent in a mule litter to Fort Kearney and never had a bad
symptom. The bullet had lodged under the breast bone and encysted
there. I believed then and do still believe he saved my life. He became
a famous Confederate General and I have always had for him the most
sincere gratitude.