We were now about fifteen miles from headquarters, so I dispatched two men at once to Capt.  Mills in all haste, requesting him to be there by daybreak, if it were within the bounds of possibility.  This being a sandy, sagebrush country, one could not ride at full speed, but the scouts made good time, nevertheless, and Capt.  Mills and his command were with us before daylight.  We met him about a mile from where the Indians were camped, and I told him how the ground lay and the general surroundings as best I could, and I suggested that as on account of the dogs I had not been able to locate the horses of the Indians, it would be advisable to wait until daylight to make the attack.

We waited about an hour, when the Captain said he thought it was light enough to kill Indians.  He gave orders to mount, drew his men up in line and rode back and forth, up and down the line, instructing them how to proceed, saying: 

“When I give the word, ‘charge!’ every man draw his pistol, and when within fifty yards, begin to fire.  Don’t fire at random, but take good aim, and when your pistols are empty draw your sabres and cut them down.  Don’t let one escape.  Don’t wait for further orders; you have them, now carry them out.”

Capt.  Mills rode to the left wing and asked me to take the right.  I told him I thought it best that myself and the scout force should make a dash for the Indian horses as soon as he made the charge, for if we could succeed in getting the horses we need not let one Indian escape.

It was now so light that we could see their ponies on the hill just beyond their camp.  All being ready, and I having instructed my assistants, the Captain ordered them to charge.  I made a dash to the right with my entire scout force.  This was a great surprise to the redskins.  They were nearly all abed yet, except a few of the earliest risers.  Those who were up made a desperate rush for their horses, but unavailingly.  We got there first and stampeded the herd.  Some of the horses were picketed, but we cut the ropes as fast as we came to them, and before any of the Indians could get to their horses we had them on the dead run.

Taking a circuitous route we drove the horses around between the scene of battle and head-quarters.  When about a mile distant my first assistant and myself returned to the battle ground leaving the other scouts to guard the horses.  We arrived at the scene just in time to see the last Indian fall.  When it was good light the Indians could be seen lying around in every direction.  The orderly sergeant and two privates were looking around in the sagebrush, thinking there might be some of them hiding there, and all of a sudden two young bucks started up and began to run, and for about three hundred yards they had what I thought to be the prettiest race I had ever witnessed.  The two Indians on foot and the soldiers on horseback, running through the sagebrush and every man in the crowd, from the Captain down, yelling at the top of his voice.  Here I did the poorest shooting that I had ever done in my life, emptying one of my revolvers and not touching an Indian.  But the soldiers finally got them.