It was on July 28th, among the foothills of the mountains, that a large camp of Indians was found. In this camp were no less than one hundred and ten bands of hostile Sioux, and they meant business, for they had congregated here for the express purpose of cleaning out the white soldiers, and they felt confident they could do it. The Indians, on their horses, were stripped for the fray, and began leisurely to ride in line of battle toward the white enemy. When within rifle shot, the soldiers opened fire, and instantly the scene was changed. The bands concentrated, and, uttering their war cries, they dashed at full speed on our lines, firing, and, like the wind, whirled to the rear, loading as they went, when they would again face the enemy, and, coming within gunshot, fire again. They were so confident of success that they did not attempt to save their own camp, which was the objective point of the soldiers; and they did not realize their dangerous position until they found that their terrific onslaught on our lines did not in the least impede the progress of the troops. Soon the artillery was brought up, and the shells were sent thick and fast among them. By this time they began to realize that retreat were the tactics now. There were 1,600 tepees filled with women and children, with the usual supply of dogs,--not less than two dogs to a tepee, and such a stampede. It was a grand sight in one sense and sad in another. To see this great, moving mass of 10,000 or 12,000 souls, with their camp paraphernalia, including dogs and ponies, rushing over the prairie; the fleeing multitude spread out as far as the eye could reach on either side, rushing on in mad haste, as though fleeing from the city of destruction. It was the sight of a lifetime, but sad to contemplate that the sins of some were being showered upon the heads of the innocent women and children. The loss to the Indians in killed was estimated at 100 to 150; the wounded they carried off the field. The dead were buried in the night in large trenches, the earth leveled off, and the troops marched away. The Indians were not satisfied with the result of this engagement; they naturally would not be. They claimed that the best of their young men were off hunting for our troops in another direction, and they should at once call them in and give battle again. The last six days had been very exciting, and was a nervous strain on the soldiers. One hundred and seventy-five miles had been made, a battle of eight hours had been fought, and the camp of Indians destroyed. The march to the west was resumed over the prairie, with the Knife Mountains to the north and the Black Hills to the south, looming up in the distance like great sentinels, standing to contest the approach of civilization and defying the elements of ages.