Custer had marched through that blizzard and over the snow-clad plains to victory. His stealthy approach, the skill with which he had surrounded the village, the strength with which the attack had been delivered, and the battle which he had fought with the unexpected Indian force, the ruse by which he had extricated himself, and, last but not least, Bell’s gallant dash with the ammunition wagon, were all given the highest praise. And well they merited it. One or two incidents of the battle are worthy of especial mention. When the troops obtained possession of the village, they found the dead body of a white woman. The fact that she still had some vestige of civilized clothing upon her, quite new, proved that she had been but recently captured. She had been shot dead by the Indians at the moment of attack to prevent her rescue; and there was also the body of a little white child, who had been killed by those who had him in charge, lest he should be returned to his family again. The squaws, of course, were in great terror. They thought they would be instantly put to death when they were routed from their tepees. Black Kettle’s sister, Mah-wis-sa, who seemed to be the leading woman of the village, made a long oration to Custer, telling him that she was a good Indian, and that she had tried to restrain Black Kettle in his nefarious career—which was all a lie, of course. She wound up by bringing the comeliest of the young Indian maidens to Custer, and, after solemnly placing the hand of the girl in that of the General, mumbled some kind of a gibberish over the two. The General observed Romeo standing near with a broad grin upon his face, and asked him what Mah-wis-sa was doing. He was told that she was marrying him to the beauty of the tribe to propitiate him. That marriage did not stand. V. The Fate of Elliott and his Men The fate of Elliott’s detachment remained a mystery. His comrades hoped that he had escaped, but as the days passed and he did not return to the regiment, and as nothing was heard from him, they abandoned hope in despair. This was not, by any means, the end of the winter campaigning; and some time after, Custer and his men, this time heavily reinforced, again marched up the valley of the Washita. A short distance from the place where Black Kettle’s band had been annihilated they found the remains of Elliott and his men. The evidence of the field and what was afterward learned from Indian captives told the sad story. Pursuing the fleeing Indians, Elliott and his party suddenly ran into the midst of a horde of braves coming down the valley to help Black Kettle and the men who had been engaged with Custer. To fly was impossible. They dismounted from their horses, formed themselves in a semicircle a few feet in diameter, stood back to back, as it were, and fought until they died. There were evidences of a terrible conflict all around them. Right dearly had they sold their lives.