The artillery advanced in a gallop, and, in position, soon commenced planting shells among the redskins. This was followed up by the steady advance of the dismounted men, who pressed their lines, and they commenced to fall back. The General, sick though he was, and in the ambulance, could not endure being there when the fight was going on, so he ordered up his horse and, mounting, rode to the front, but nature resisted, and he was obliged to dismount, which he did, and seating himself on a boulder, with his field glass took in the whole situation. Colonel Thomas, who was in command, hearing that the General was on the field, sought him out and said: "I am ready to advance, sir." The General, pointing his hand toward a range of hills, said: "Go ahead, you will find the camp beyond those buttes; hold your men well in hand, push the Indians; they will fight for their families; protect your flank, and I will protect the rear." The fight went on; the wounded were sent to the rear, and for twelve miles we drove the Indians from point to point, but darkness came on before their camp was reached. In the bivouac at night the scene was a varied one. At the roll-call there were names not answered, for the unerring arrow and Indian bullet had done its work. At the next muster it would be necessary to mark after some name: "Killed in battle in the Bad Lands August 8th, 1864," or, "died of wounds received from Indians in battle in the Bad Lands August 8th, 1864," for there were 109 killed and wounded on this day. The wounded received proper attention at once, and the other soldiers, well tired out with the day's fighting and marching, were soundly sleeping and dreaming of home. There were 8,000 warriors engaged in this battle, and as nearly as could be estimated they lost 350 killed and from 600 to 800 wounded. It was a bloody battle, and the field was named by the Indians Waps-chon-choka. The Indians, after this decisive battle, broke up into small bands and went in every direction, so that the soldiers, as an army, could not well follow them. The war had ended so far as the Indians were concerned, but there was another fight on hand. Bad water and lack of rations are not a happy condition of affairs, and the soldiers had to look this square in the face. And hot! The tongues of some of the men were so swelled from thirst and heat that they could not talk. The animals suffered equally with the men, and in numerous instances it became necessary to put them out of their misery by blowing out their brains. And thus things went on from day to day until August 12th, when glad news came from one of the scouts, who came riding back and frantically waving something in his hands. It was simply a little chip of wood, and why should this create such unbounded joy among a lot of war-begrimed veterans? It was freshly cut and evidently came from the steamboat men, as it was borne down on the bosom of the cool waters of the longed-for Yellowstone.