Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 April 1895 — SAVED BY A GLOVE. [ARTICLE]

SAVED BY A GLOVE.

M*w a United States Trooper Kilted Chief Crazy Horse. “It is difficult to believe any thrilling story of wild western life after reading the lurid accounts of bravery and coolness in face of danger, especially when dealing with Indians, that are served to the sensationalloving public in cheap novels,” said an army officer. ‘‘One is led to look upon western adventure as mere fiction, and the dangers that beset the early settler as myths, the fancies of powerful imaginations attuned to the public’s taste. Yet, I can say that I have seen deeds of heroism quite as astonishing as anything of which I have ever read, even if the hero did not slay from ten to twenty savages single-handed. “There is one incident which occurred in the post at which I was stationed nearly twenty years ago for which I have never seen credit given to a most courageous fellow, who, single-handed, by his acuteness, saved a whole garrison from massacre, and his only weapon, or, rather, instrument, was a white glove. It happened in this way: We were located in the midst of hostile Cheyennes, who had been giving the government no end of trouble by their fearless depredations. Crazy Horse was their most obstreperous chief, and after many vain attempts to persuade him to surrender by force of arms, we had about given up hope, when we learned that the chief was willing to receive officers to arrange the terms of surrender. As it was, we would have long before fallen prey to the merciless devils who were about us on all sides had it not been that at that time the Sioux were in hostile relations to the Cheyennes, and in working out their spite they guarded us as if we were of their own tribe.

“A detail was sent to confer with Crazy Horse, and resulted in bringing him to the agency, willing to surrender. It was necessary to take him to the main post—Fort Robinson—to arrange more fully the conditions, so, while awaiting a convenient time to conduct him to the commander, old Crazy Horse was placed in the guardhouse, according to custom. Although his friends had prctically free access to him then.-they could not understand the meaning of his imprisonment, and were constantly suspicious of treachery. After a while they began to bring little files and saws for the chief to use to gain his freedom. One day a fellow named Bole was assigned the duty of guarding the prisoner, and as he walked to and fro he was surprised to find that Crazy Horse had sawed his way through the bars and was in a fair way to join his comrades on the outside. Quick action was necessary, for there were several Cheyennes in the gdardhouse, but luckily were not looking in the direction of the cell at the time. Bole was equal to the emergency. Like a flash his gun was thrust through tho bars and his bayonet was run clean through Crazy Horse’s body. He fell back with a groan in such a natural position that a person would not have noticed him particularly. Bole was quick to apprehend the danger in which his act had placed him. If it were known that he had slain the favorite chief of the Cheyennes. it would not only mean sure death to him, but it would provoke a general massacre in the garrison. So, without a moment’s delay, he pulled oil his white glove, and, with a rapid motion, wiped every trace of blood from the bayonet. Then, quickly digging a hole in the earth floor, he buried the blood-stained glove, and in a moment he had taken another glove from his pocket, had it on his hand and was doing his guard duty as if nothing had happened. “How he happened to have that ex-, tra glove in his pocket I cannot tell. It was most unusual, as any army man knows. This was done so quickly that the Cheyennes who were in the guard house at the time never noticed what had happened. Crazy Horse ’ay for some little while, his life blood ebbing away, before his friends discovered anything had happened. But finally they knew something was wrong and they rushed in to their chief. His life was too far gone to allow him to tell how he came by his death. He died without giving the slightest clew. At first his braves thought he had committed suicide, but then their naturally suspicious natures began to suspect treachery,and as Bole was the only man near him they fastened the crime upon the guardsman. “Imagine Bole’s feelings when they accused him . Discovery meant sure death, but Bole b r aved the storm and stood unmoved by their angry accusations and blood-thirsty threats. Finally, the Captain had to accede to their demands and permit the braves to search Bole for blood stains. I remember they stripped the poor fellow and examined him from head to foot. Then all his garments were scrutinized as well as his weapons, but not the stain of a drop of blood could be found. The white glove had done its work well. Having no other explanation, the Indians decided their chief had killed himself. Crazy Horse was buried by his warriors with great honors, and the grave on the bluff, inclosed by three fences over which were placed the navy blue blankets which the post; commander had thought advisable to give toward the proper burial of the dead chief, was the pride of all the Cheyennes a long time. Thus ended Crazy Horse, and this is how a simple white glove in the hand's of a hero saved a whole garrison. When a man is around with courage and coolness his weapon need not be sharp.”— [Pittsburg Dispatch.