The Syracuse Journal, Volume 3, Number 38, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 19 January 1911 — Page 3

1/2 STORY The Courage of Captain Plum 1 1 By JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD I I. ■ ■ —1 r LI Illustrations by Magnus G. Kettner I (Couyright 1908 by Bobbs-Merrill Co.) 12 SYNOPSIS. f Capt. Nathaniel Plum, of the sloop Typhoon, lands secretly on Beaver island, stronghold of the Mormons. He is suddenly confronted by Obadiah Price, an eccentric old man and a member of the Mormon council, who tells him that he is expected. Price ignores Nat’s protestations that he has got the wrong man, and bargains for the ammunition aboard the Bloop. He binds Nat by a solemn oath to deliver a package to Franklin Pierce, president of the United StsAes. Near Price’s cabin Nat sees the frightened face of a young woman who disappears in the darkness, leaving an odor of lilacs. It develops that Plum’s visit to the island is to demand settlement from the king, Btrang, for the looting of his ship some time previously, supposedly by Mormons. Casey, the mate, has been left in charge of the sloop with orders to bombard St. James if Nat does not return within a certain time. Price takes Nat in the darkness, to the king’s home, and through a window he sees the king and his wives, among whom is the lady of the lilacs, whom Price says Is the seventh wife. Plum calls at the king’s office, where he is warned by a young woman that his life is In danger. Strang receives Plum cordially, professes indignation when he hears the captain’s grievance, and promises to punish the guilty. Plum again receives warning of his danger. He rescues Neil, who is being publicly whipped. The king orders Arbor Croche, the sheriff and father of Winn■ome, the girl who warned Nat, to pursue and kill the two men. Plum and Nell f>lan to escape on the Typhoon. Plum earns that Marion, the girl of the lilacs, is Neil’s sister. She is not yet married to Strang. Plum suggests cartying her off on the ship. Neil approves. They agree to Include Winnsome, with whom Price Is in love, In the enterprise. Nat discovers that the sloop is gone. CHAPTER Vl—Continued. He would go to the councilor’s. Having once decided, Nathaniel turned in the direction of the town, avoiding the use of the path’ which he and Obadiah had taken, but following in the forest near enough to use it as a guide. He was confident that Arbor Croche and his sheriffs were confining their man hunt to the swamp, but in spite of this belief he exercised extreme caution, stopping to listen now and then, with one hand always near his pistol. A quiet gloom filled the forest and by the tree tops he marked the going down of the sun. Nathaniel’s ears ached with their strain of listening for the rumbling roar that -would tell of Casey’s attack on St James. Suddenly he heard a crackling in the underbrush ahead of him, a sound that came not from the strain of listening for the rumbling roar and in a moment he had dodged into concealment of the huge roots of an overturned tree, drawn pistol in hand. Whatever object was approaching came slowly, as if hesitating at each step—a cautious, stealthy advance, it struck Nathaniel, as he cocked his weapon. Directly in front of him, half a stone’s throw away, was a dense growth of hazel and he could see the tops of the slender bushes swaying. Twice this movement ceased and the second time there came a crashing of brush and a faint cry. For many minutes after that there -was absolute silence. Was it the cry of an animal that he had heard —or of a man? In either case the creature who made it had fallen in the thicket and was lying there as still as if dead. For a quarter of an hour Nathaniel waited and listened. He could no longer have seen the movement of bushes in the gathering night gloom of the forest but his ears were strained to catch the slightest sound from the direction pf the mysterious thing that lay within less than a dozen rods of him. Slowly he drew himself out from the shelter of the roots and advanced step by step. Half way to the thicket a stick cracked loudly under his foot and as the sound startled the dead quiet pf the forest with pistol-shot clearness there came another cry from the dense hazel, a cry which was neither that of man nor animal but of a woman; and with an answering shout Nathaniel sprang forward to meet there in the edge of the thicket the white face and outstretched arms of Marion. The girl was swaying on her feet. In her face there was a pallor that even in his instant’s glance sent a chill of horror through the man and as she staggered toward him, half falling, her Ups weakly forming his name Nathaniel leaped to her and caught her close In his arms. In that moment something seemed to burst within him and flood his veins with fire. Closer he held the girl, and heavier he knew that she was becoming In his arms. Her htfkd was upon his breast, his face was crushed in her hair, he felt her throbbing and breathing against him and his lips quivered with the words that were bursting for freedom in his soul. But first there came the girl’s own whispered breath—"Nell —where is Neil?” “He is gone—gone from the Island!" She had become a dead weight now nd so he knelt or the ground with

her, her head still upon hta breast, her eyes closed, her arms fallen to her side. And as Nathaniel looked into her face from which all life seemed to have fled he forgot everything but the joy of this moment — forgot all in life but this woman against his breast. He kissed her soft mouth and the closed eyes until the eyes themselves opened again and gazed at him in a startled, half understanding way, until he drew his head far back with the shame of what he had dared to do flaming in his face. And as for another moment he held her thus, feeling the quivering life returning in her, there came to him through that vast forest stillness the distant deep-toned thunder of a great gun. “That’s Casey!” he whispered close down to the girl’s face. His voice was almost sobbing in Jts happiness. “That’s Casey—firing on St. James!” CHAPTER VII. The Hour of Vengeance. For perhaps 2ft seconds after the last echoes of the gun had rolled through the forest the girl lay passive in Nathaniel’s arms, so close that he could feel her heart beating against his own and her breath sweeping his face. Then there came a pressure against his breast, a gentle resistance of Marion’s half conscious form, and when she had awakened from her partial swoon he was holding her in the crook of his arm. It had all passed quickly, the girl had rested against him only so long as he might have held a dozen breaths and yet there had been all of a lifetime In it for Nathaniel Plum, a cycle of joy that he knew would remain with him forever. But there was something bittersweet in the thought that she was conscious of what he had done, something of humiliation as well as gladness, and still not enough of the first to make him regret that he had kissed her, that he had kissed her mouth and her eyes. He loved her, and he wes glad that in those passing moments he had betrayed himself. For the first time he noticed that her face was scratched and that the sleeves of her thin waist were torn to shreds; and as she drew away from him, steadying herself with a hand on his arm, his lips were parched of words, and yet he leaned to her eagerly, everything that he would have said burning in the love of his eyes. Still irresolute in her faintness the girl smiled at him, and in that smile there was gentle accusation, the sweetness of forgiveness, and measureless gratitude, and it was yet light enough for him to see that with these there had come also a flush into her cheeks and a dazzling glow into her eyes. “Nell has escaped!” she breathed. “And you—” “I was going back to you, Marion!” He spoke the words hardly above a whisper. The beautiful eyes so close to him drew his secret from him before he had thought. “I am going to take you from the island!” With his words there came again that sound of a great gun rolling from the direction of St. James. With a frightened cry the girl staggered to ner feet, and as she stood swaying unsteadily, her arms half reached to him, Nathaniel saw only mortal dread in the whiteness of her face. “Why didn’t you go? Why didn’t you go with Neil?” she moaned. Her breath was coming in sobbing excitement. "Your ship is—at —St. James!” “Yes, my ship is at St James, Marion!” His voice was tremulous with triumph, with gladness, with a tenderness which he could not control. He put an arm half round her waist to support her trembling form and to his joy she did not move away from him. His hand was buried in the richness of her loose hair. He bent until his lips touched her silken tresses. “Neil has told me everything —about you,” he added softly. “My ship is bombarding St. James, and I am going to take you from the isand!” Not until then did Marlon free herself from his arm and then so gently that when she stood facing him he felt no reproof. No longer did shame send a flush Into his face. He had spoken his love, though not in words, and he knew that the girl understood him. It did not occur to him in these moments that he had known this girl for only a few hours, that until now a word had nevei* passed between them. He was conscious only that he had loved her from the time he saw her through the king’s window, that he had risked his life for her, and that she knew why he had leaped into the arena at the whipping-post. The words she spoke now came like a dash of cold water in his face. “Your ship is not bombarding St James, Captain Plum!” she exclaimed. Darkness hid the terror in her face, but he could hear the tremble of it in her voiae. “The Typhoon has been captured by the Mormons and those guns are —guns of triumph—and not —” She caught her breath in a convulsive sob. "I want you to go— I want you to go—with Neil!” she pleaded. “So Casey is taken!” He spoke slowly, as if he had not heard her last words. For a moment he stood silent and as silently the girl stood and watched him. She guessed the despair that was raging In nls heart but when he spoke to her she could detect none of it in his voice. “Casey is a fool,” he said, unconsciously repeating Obadiah’s words. "Marlon, will you come with me? Will you leave the island —and Join your brother?” The hope that had risen in his heart was crushed as Marion drew farther away from him. "You must go alone,” she regitod.

With a powerful effort she steadied her voice. “Tell Neil that he has been condemned to death. Tell him that—if he loves me—he will not return to the island.” “And I?” From the distance she saw his arms stretched like shadows toward her. “And you—” Her voice was low, so low that he could hardly hear the words she spoke, but its sweetness thrilled him. “And you—if you love me—will do this thing for me. Go to Nell. Save bls life for me!” She had some to him through the gloom, and in the luster of the eyes that were turned up to him Nathaniel* saw again the power that swayed his soul. “You will go?" “I will save your brother —if lean!” “You can—you can—” she breathed. In an ecstasy of gratitude she seized One of his hands in both of her own. "You can save him!” “For you—l will try.” » “For me— r She was so close ihat he could feel the throbbing of her bosom, iuddenr ly he lifted his free hand and brushed back the thick hair from her brow and turned her face until what dim light there still remained of the day glowed in the beauty of her eyes “I will keep him from the island if I can,” he said, looking deep Into them, “and as there is a God in heaven I swear that you—” “What?” she urged., as he hesitated. “That you shall not marry Strang!” he finished. A cry welled up in the girl’s throat Was it of gladness? Was it of hope? She sprang back a pace from Nathaniel and with clenched hands waited breathlessly, as if she expected him to say more. “No—no —you cannot save me from Strang! Now—you must go!” She retreated slowly in the direction of the path. ... In an instant Nathaniel was at her side. "I am going to see you safely back to St. James,” he declared. “Then I will go to your brother.” She barred his way defiantly. “You cannot go!” “Why?” “Because —” He caught the frighten-

“I Am Going to Take You From th* Island.” ed flutter of her voice again. “Because —they will kill you!” The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear. “I am glad you care—Marlon.” H* spoke her name with faltering tenderness, and led her out into the path. “You must go,” she stMJ persisted. “With you—yes,” he answered. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Officers Must Wear Mustache. Some of the cavalry subalterns at Aidershot are smitten in a tender place by the enforcement of the order that all officers must wear a mustache. The regulation on the subject is explicit and dates from the time of Queen Victoria. It reads as follows: “The hair of the head w!U be kept short. The chin and underlip will be shaved, but not the upper lip. Whiskers if worn will be of moderate' length.” The fad for shaving the- -upper lip iq a specialty of cavalry subalterns, who wish to distinguish themselves from their comrades of other branches of the service. Field Marshal Lord Grenfell had to issue an order calling attention to the regulation when he was in command in Ireland. The regulation aims entirely at maintaining a smart appearance and dates from shortly after the Crimean war, when Queen Victoria objected to her soldiers wearing beards. In the navy the rule is that an officer must be either clean shaven or wear “a full set.”—London Daily Mail. Why Doctors Bear Charmed Lives. The reason doctors do not catch disease is because they never think about it They very seldom take any pr» cautions to secure this amazing immunity, beyond, perhaps, a cold sponge bath regularly, smoking, a pinch of snuff, gargling the throat with some well-known disinfectant, or • washing their hands in an anseptic solution before and after attending to a patient. A doctor may carry disease from one house to another without contracting It himself. An .army surgeon had to cope single-handed with a terrible outbreak of cholera. When the runl? was over, the medical man, absolutely exhausted sank onto a bed which a short time previously had been occupied by a bad cholera case and slept for 48 hours. Yet he did not contract the complaint, although he had taken no preventive measures. He simply didn’t think about it And that is the whole secret

Conflagrations By INEZ DEACON

Miss Catherine Colvin’s blackberry patch grew close to the line fence between her small farm and Madison Brinkley’s few acres. Madison’s blackberry patch leaned over this post and rail fence in the opposite side. The mother of Miss Colvin was an Invalid, who never left the house; the mother of Madison was rheumatic and also never left the house. In the natural course of events it would seem that Catherine and Madison, who d|d the berry picking for their respective families, would occasionally have met at thqjr briars. But Madison’s mother had always wished her berries to be gathered in the morning while the dew was of! them, Catherine’s mother preferred hers picked in the afternoon, when the vines were dry. In January of the fourth year of the Colvins living next the Brinkleys Mrs. Colvin died; in February occurred the death of Mrs. Brinkley. In the summer following their bereavements Madison and Catherine gathered their fruit at times that suited them. One early July afternoon Miss Colvin, reaching through the fence to gather an unusually fine cluster of berries that hung over on the Brinkley side of the fence, put her hand full in the face and touched the lips of a large, fair man, who was down on his knees filling a three-gallon tin bucket from some low-growing vines. Madison looked up quickly and at sight of a woman his round, full face assumed the pinkness of a July sunset. “Oh!” gasped Miss Colvin, “I didn’t know anybody was there!” Madison arose, going two shades pinker, "I- —I —hope I didn’t scare you,” he stammered. “Oh, no, not at all!” prevaricated Miss Colvin, politely. Then, in an effort to put him at his ease she held out her half-filled bucket. “Ain’t the berries fine this year?” Madison's glance was directed at the blackberries, but Miss Colvin was a short woman; his embarrassed

hsSßiioOl 'xW E From an Admiring Friend. eyes fell on her bright black ones and with that glance his castle of bachelorhood he had believed would stand forever tottered. Up to this time, facing an untamed Mon with empty hands would have been no harder for Madison than facing a woman, especially an unmarried woman. Though he had often seen across the fields, the little figure of Miss Colvin going about her work, he had never met her face to face. In the few times she had left her mother to call on his mother he h,ad fled the house. "I’m lonesome," he said, meditatively, as he kindled his fire preparatory to making his jam. “I wonder if she ain’t lonesome, too.” The thought that a combination of two lonelinesses might mean happiness flash over him. A pink flush covered his high forehead and he dropped the stove-cap lifter on his foot. It was several days before Madison ventured to the blackberry patch in the afternoon again. No little blackclad figure with smiling eyes was there and his heart filled with a dull sense of disappointment. Madison went home and planted his late pole beans. “If I wasn’t such a dull, old, bashful fool,” he said, as he moodily swung his hoe, “I’d think of some other way of getting to see her. Maybe I’d even go to her house; but I am a fool, a silly fool.” One wet day early in August Madison found in a far corner of his meadow field a clump of a species of milkweed bearing a brilliant red blossom of a great beauty. He remembered Miss Colvin had remarked on the beauty of a black-eyed Susan that grew by the blackberry fence and had even held a spray of the flowers caressingly up to her face. The next morning, while the sun was yet asleep and two hours before dawn, a large shadow fell across the entrance to Miss Colvin’s little back porch—a shadow that lingered only a moment. When Catherine Colvin came out In the early dawn she found on the shelf of her porch a spray of scarlet blos-

soms In a glass fruit jar® On the jar was pasted a slip of paper on which was written, “From an admiring friend.” There was no signature, but Miss Colvin looked at the footprints in the damp soil and traced them toward the fence that lay in the direction of Madison Brinkley’s house. The days wore on and dally Madison looked wistfully in the direction of his neighbor’s house and dally his neighbor looked wistfully in the direction of bls, but Madison made no more overtures. One day in late September Alva Burrus and Robinson Dunn, young farmers of the neighborhood, came to Madison Brinkley to buy some seed wheat. Madison went Into his granary to measure It out to them. His measuring box was not In the wheat house, however, and, remembering he had left it in his kitchen, he went to get it. Burrus, sprawled on the pile if wheat, carelessly thrust his hand in its depths. Something round and hard met his fingers. He swept the wheat. A giant watermelon, the largest Burrus had ever seen, appeared, bearing an inscfiptlojn on the rind, traced with a pin when the melon was small. The letters had grown with the melon’s growth until they looked as if done in crewel embroidery. “Miss Catherine Colvin," read Burrus, aloud. "Say, Dunn, Madison thlnsk so much about his neighbor he’s got to writing her hame on watermelons.” “Cover up tha t thing,” cautioned Dunn. “Madison’s coming, and we wouldn’t get any wheat today if he thought we had an idea he was courtin’. He’d die before he’d face us.” Some days later Burrus saw Madison in the vicinity of the Court House and later on the Toad in his buggy with a ministerial-looking gentleman, who accompanied him to his home. This was sufficient to warrant Burrus to arrange with some kindred spirits a plan for an all night’s fun. That evening Miss Colvin, who, sitting in pensive thought, had fallen asleep, awakened suddenly. She went to her window to see a flash of flame in the direction of Madison Brinkley’s house. As she looked toward it in a cold fear two other big flashes of flame arose. Throwing a little white shawl over head, she ran toward the blaze. "The fire is so low it must have caught in the cellar,” she thought as she ran, “and he may be asleep! Oh, if I can only get there in time to rouse him!” When she reached the thick hedge about the yard the flames were rising on every side, but the Are was but bonfires of cornstalks built at safe distances from the house. A dozen men replenished them. At that moment her ears were deafened by a terrific clamor of horns, bells, a beating of pans, loud shouts and yells. "Coma out on your porch, Madison Brinkley,” she heard Alva Burrus’ clear voice call above the uproar. “Come out on the porch with your bride and receive the congratulations of your friends.” Catherine clutched weakly at the coral honeysuckle vine on the post by which she stood. “His bride!” So what she thought was the fire of Madison Brinkley’s house burning was the bonfire of a celebration. Presently, accompanied by a tall old gentleman in a black frock coat, Madison came out of his door. “I am not married,” Catherine heard him say. “You have all made a mistake.” "What’d you bring that preacher in with you this mornin’ for, then?” called out Francis Larimer. “Al Burris said you was takln’ him to marry you to Miss Catherine Colvin! There's Miss Catherine—l mean Mrs. Brinkley —now, a hidin’ behind that honeysuckle!” he ended, pointing at the shrinking visitor. Catherine came to the edge of the porch. “Don’t say that, please," she said, her voice trembling with mortification. “I saw the light and I ran over here to see —I —I —was afraid Madison —Mr. Brinkley was asleep in the fire! I—l thought maybe I oould save him!” She covered her face with her hands and burst out sobbing. “I’ll bet that ain’t so!” said Larimer, roughly. “She’s tryln’ to put us off the track, boys!” The bashfulness that had kept Madison away from Catherine melted like wax In the fire. “You shut up, Frank Lorimer,” he commanded sharply. “Everything this lady says is the truth! No, I ain’t married to her, but it ain’t because I don’t want to be. I’ve been afraid to ask her to marry me, and If I wasn't afraid, I’m not good enough for her, anyhow!” The minister, Lorenzo Marrs, Madison's cousin, who was making him a little visit, brought out a chair for Miss Colvin, and the crowd melted away. Madison sat down by Catherine, and Rev. Lorenzo wisely went to the back of the house for a pitcher of waters which he was a long time getting. Catherine looked up in Madison’s face. “Part of that wasn’t so you told the men,” she said, shyly. “What part?” asked Madison “That part about you not bein’ good enough for me!” “I ain’t,” murmured Madison huskily. “If I’m willin’ to rsk you bein’ good enough for me, what then? * was Catherine’s encouraging whisper. There was no answer in words, but Madison’s arm went around the little woman and drew her to his breast Will Teach Housewifery. Holland is about to establish schools of housewifery fur th* daughI ten: st fanners. I

TO TALK ACROSS OCEAN Transatlantic Communication by Tel* phone Is Promise of Near Future. Transatlantic communication by tele phone is v promise of the near future W the new cable just laid between Dover and Cape Gris Nez, to Increase the facility of telephonic communication between England and France, performs the wonders expected of it, some of the difficulties to be over come in talking across, or under, tha Atlantic ocean will be removed. We already send the sounds of human speech under the water for tolerably long distances. England talks with France and Belgium. Telephonic communication between our mainland and islands off the coast is in common use, and excites no comment, though our grandfathers would have considered it impossible. The new channel cable has a system of coils which «-?e expected to reduce the distortion of current impulses and make the transmission of speech clearer, If the experiment is successful, further Improvements in this system are expected to make an ocean telephone cable a possibility. It is not conceivable that ocean telephoning will ever be cheap. To talk between Europe and America will likely be an expensive luxury,’ but there will be occasions when th* opportunity to do so will be eagerly seized, no matter what it costs. Th* ocean telephone, when it comes, will scarcely be a formidable rival of the cable telegraph and the wireless for the transmission of long messages. But it will be still another means of obliterating distance, of overcoming the remoteness of nations, and the consequent lack of mutual understanding which caused many of the international complications of history. Science, working for the improvement of the arts of peace, is doing more to remove the causes of war than the great modern armaments which science has developed can do to ’ make nations hesitate before plunging into war. CEMENT FROM FURNACE SLAG Tests on Concrete Blocks Show Good Resistance to Compressive Stresses. In reply to American inquiries concerning cement from blast-furnace Blag, United States Consul General John L. Griffiths of London, who had previously reported upon the matter, furnishes the following statement from a. consulting chemist with whom he corresponded: “From the nature of the process—the use of blast-furnace slag in a perfectly liquid condition—complete combination of the acid and basic oxides, namely, silica, alumina and lime, is insured, and In consequence it might be predicted that the product would be free from any tendency to mechanical unsoundness which often occurs in cements which contain chemical bodies in an unsaturated or loosely combined condition. Direct and repeated tests show this to be the case. I have no Instance on record of a single, sample which has not proved Itself to be absolutely sound. When tested in the usual way by being made into briquettes, both neat and with sand, it has a high and increasing tensile ■trength. Tests on concrete block* ■how similar .good resistance to compressive stresses.” A Family’s School Attendance Record. Few families can boast of the school attendance record of the four children of J. R. Dannatt, assistant overseer of Newchurch, Isle of Wight, who have been connected with the local school for 17 years. They have attended for an aggregate of thirty-two years and one month without missing a single attendance. The record is as follows: Harry Dannatt, five years and five months; Charlie, ten years and five months; Neiue, seven years and ten months, and Ada, eight years and five months. The school is about two miles from the family's residence, and the distance traveled by the quartet in journeying to and from school exceeds 80,000 miles.—l-ondon Dally Mail. Spirit Drop* In on Friend. Mr. Andrew Lang, the eminent essayist and critic, relates a curious circumstance which recently happened in a little Scottish town. A man was dying, when he suddenly said, as 11 recognizing some person, "Eh, ye’ll be frae the Whey Pat?" He then expired. On Inquiry it was found that a man had died, coincidentally, at th* rural tavern, the Whey Pat, a few miles distant! Apparently, after his death he had looked in on his friend, who was also about to enter the spirit land. Mrs. Hewlett an Aviator. Mrs. Maurice Hewlett, wife of the author, is a partner in an aviation school in Brooklands. Her husband ■ays that he is Interested in aviation, bat has not had time for it, but think* it good work for women. It does not require great strength and as it is work tn the open air must prove beneficial to most women. Swell Set Credential*. Mrs. De Butt (making oat a list of invited guests for dinner)—Can you chink of any others? Mr*. Von Setter—There is Mrs. 1 bad thought of her, but she did net try to smuggler 5

BATTLES OF 7TH CAVALRY General Custer’s Regiment Had Many Thrilling Fights With Indians From 1872 to 1876. In 1872 the Seventh United States cavalry had been scattered through seven states in the south serving as constabulary to aid the officers in the reconstruction policy, says the National Tribune in response to a query. The threatening attitude of the Sioux in Dakota called for cavalry and the Seventh was sevt thither. Gen. S. D. Sturgis, the colonel of the regiment, was assigned to duty at St. Paul, Major Reno with one squadtofi Was detailed for escort duty wltK the boundary commission. The rest of the regiment went to Yankton, and then under Lieutenant General Ouster reported to General Stanley at Fort Rice, where it was assigned to duty in protecting the surveyors of the Northern Pacific railroad. The column left Fort Rice June 24, and August 4 General Ouster had a fight with 300 Indians near what was afterwards Fort Keogh and drove the Indians from the field by a charge. The next day the Indians killed the sutler, veterinary surgeon and one enlisted man. August 11 the Indians attacked the regiment while in camp on the Yellowstone, but were driven off and then pursued eight miles. The regiment lost one officer and two men wounded and one man killed. The Indian loss was 40 killed and wounded. In June, 1874, Custer went out from Fort Abraham Lincoln to reconnoiter the country, and spent 60 days in this. In September, 1874, six troops under Major Lewis Merrill were sent to the department of the gulf, where they remained until the spring of 1876. Then all the troops of the regiment were concentrated at Fort Lincoln to join Terry's column against the Sioux. The column left Fort Lincoln May 17, and June 22 the trail of a large body of Indians was discovered on Rosebud river, and Custer was sent with his regiment to follow this. The scouts reported that a large camp had been discovered in the valley of the Little Big Horn. In order to prevent the escape of the Indians Custer decided to attack at once, and divided his regi-j ment into three squadrons, one of fivq troops, which he commanded, and the* others of three troops each, to be commanded by Reno and Benteen. Reno was given the advance, while Benteen was sent off to the left and south.

Pvlg * The Indians Attacked the Regiment While in Camp. * Reno attacked first the greatest colleo tion of Indians that had been seen within the , memory of taan, and was forced back on to the hills. Then the Indiana turned their whole force upon Custer, who had made an attack from the other side, and 3,000 warriors equipped with the best magazine rifles surrounded the detachment and speedily exterminated it. Custer had with him 11 officers and 191 enlisted men. All of these were killed, as well a* Second Lieutenant Crittenden, Acting Assistant Surgeon DeWolf, Custer’s brother and nephew, and Scout Reynolds. Reno lost two officers and 41 men killed, and his surgeon and scout PVrty four enlisted men were wounded. The Indians renewed their attack on Reno, but were driven off and final- # jy retreated. On the morning of June |7 General Terry came on the battlefield and discovered Custer’s fate. Th* Indiana dispersed and Sitting BuU with the larger part of them moved across the line into Canada. Aftef some further operations against th* Indiana the regiment except Troop Q concentrated at Fort Lincoln, and Mag 1, 1877, left there to join in the opera* tlons against the Nez Perces. September 18, 1877, the Nez Perces wer* over* Aken and a fight followed, in whlcij ree enlisted men were killed and ptain French and ten men wounded, ptember 30, 1877, the regiment had severe fight with the Indians in the alley of Snake Creek, and finally, October 4, Chief Joseph surrendered with tober 4, Chief Joseph surrendered