Finding the trail I followed it for two days, although it was difficult trailing because the redskins had taken every possible precaution to conceal their tracks.  On the second day Captain Meinhold went into camp on the South Fork of the Loupe, at a point where the trail was badly scattered.  Six men were detailed to accompany me on a scout in search of the camp of fugitives.  We had gone but a short distance when we discovered Indians camped, not more than a mile away, with horses grazing near by.  They were only a small party, and I determined to charge upon them with my six men, rather than return to the command, because I feared they would see us as we went back, and then they would get away from us entirely.  I asked the men if they were willing to attempt it, and they replied that they would follow me wherever I would lead them.  That was the kind of spirit that pleased me; and we immediately moved forward on the enemy, getting as close to them as possible without being seen.

I finally gave the signal to charge, and we dashed into the little camp with a yell.  Five Indians sprang out of a willow teepee, and greeted us with a volley, and we returned the fire.  I was riding Buckskin Joe, who with a few jumps brought me up to the teepee, followed by my men.  We nearly ran over the Indians, who were endeavouring to reach their horses on the opposite side of the creek.  Just as one was jumping the narrow stream a bullet from my old “Lucretia” overtook him.  He never reached the other bank, but dropped dead in the water.  Those of the Indians who were guarding the horses, seeing what was going on at the camp, came rushing to the rescue of their friends.  I now counted thirteen braves, but as we had already disposed of two, we had only eleven to take care of.  The odds were nearly two to one against us.

While the Indian re-enforcements were approaching the camp I jumped the creek with Buckskin Joe, to meet them, expecting our party would follow me; but as they could not induce their horses to make the leap, I was the only one who got over.  I ordered the sergeant to dismount his men, leaving one to hold the horses, and come over with the rest and help me drive the Indians off.  Before they could do this, two mounted warriors closed in on me and were shooting at short range.  I returned their fire and had the satisfaction of seeing one of them fall from his horse.  At this moment I felt blood trickling down my forehead, and hastily running my hand through my hair I discovered that I had received a scalp-wound.  The Indian who had shot me was not more than ten yards away, and when he saw his partner tumble from his saddle he turned to run.

By this time the soldiers had crossed the creek to assist me, and were blazing away at the other Indians.  Urging Buckskin Joe forward, I was soon alongside of the chap who had wounded me, when, raising myself in the stirrups, I shot him through the head.