Just at sunset the second day we saw two horsemen come to the edge of the woods across the Coolie, but the Indians also saw them, and chased them back. They returned to their command and reported a large body of Indians, and said they saw a small camp with the stars and stripes flying, but as they had no field glass, could not make it out. Colonel McPhail, who was in command of this relief, ordered the howitzer to be fired to give us courage, if the little camp proved to be ours. A shout went up at this welcome sound just as the sun went down. Old Joe Brown, who had been disabled early in the day, called out from his tent: "Captain Grant, instruct the men to be watchful; we are in a bad fix; the Indians will hate to lose our scalps, now that they are so near their grasp; give them a few shots occasionally, assure the wounded men that we will not leave them, and keep the pick and shovel busy." We disposed of ourselves for the night as best we could. Every man was on guard, and nearly all had two rifles fully charged and bayonets fixed. We clasped our rifles, looked up into the starry heavens, and, asking God's protection, swore not to yield an inch. We made this demonstration to encourage the wounded men, who seemed fearful that something more terrible was in store for them. The prayers and groans of the wounded and the awful silence of the dead inspired us to do our whole duty. The watch-word, "wide-awake," went the rounds every few minutes, and there was "no sleep to the eye nor slumber to the eye-lids," during all that live-long night. Out of our ninety-six horses we had but one left. This was a splendid animal, and had thus far escaped without a scratch. He was feeding about the camp, unmindful of the fate of his fellows. The picture of Birch Coolie is an exact reproduction of the situation. The ninety-five dead horses were all within the enclosure, and the one who escaped for the time is grazing among them. Just before midnight the clouds began to gather, and we felt cheered to think we would soon have rain. We were sorely in need of water, for we had not tasted a drop since the night before, and the wounded men were nearly famished with thirst and burning with fever. As the sky darkened Captain Grant called for a volunteer to go to Fort Ridgely for relief. Corporal James Auge volunteered to go, and by this act proved himself a truly brave man, and if it had been successfully carried out would have gained for him a commission at no very distant day. The fact of its not being carried out was no fault of his, and, in the abandonment of the trial, he was declared not the less brave by all his comrades, who trembled for him while he was preparing to make the perilous journey. The night was cloudy, and he being conversant with Indian methods and well posted in the topography of the country, could be successful in getting through the Indian's lines, if anybody could; but the chances were ten to one against the success of the undertaking.