Inside the cave the rocky walls were cut and scored by the rain of bullets which had been poured into it, and lying on the floor were the bodies of the two Indian warriors, together with a woman and a child, who had been killed. The soldiers had not known, until the squaws came out, that there were any women or children there. The little band had sold their lives dearly. Even the women had used guns, and had displayed all the bravery and courage of the Sioux. Too late Crazy Horse, with some six hundred warriors, appeared on the scene. Imagining he had only to deal with Mills’ small force, he galloped gallantly forward to the attack at about five o’clock. He was greatly astonished at the number of antagonists developed thereby. He retired to the top of the buttes, and the soldiers in gallant style dashed after him. They scaled the cliffs, finally gaining the level plateau. Crazy Horse made one or two attempts to break through the line, but it was impossible, and seeing himself greatly outnumbered, he wisely retired, having sustained some loss. The battle was one of the most picturesque ever fought in the West. Crook and his officers stood in the camp, the center of a vast amphitheater ringed with fire, up the sides of which the soldiers steadily climbed to get at the Indians, silhouetted in all their war finery against the sky. The loss of life on either side was not great, but the capture of the village and the provisions which had been accumulated for the winter was a serious one. In the camp were discovered many articles that had belonged to the Seventh Cavalry—a guidon, money, one of Captain Keogh’s gauntlets, marked with his name, orderly books, saddles, etc. Among other things, were letters written by officers and soldiers to friends in the East, some of them still sealed and ready for mailing. They must have come like voices from the dead when they reached those to whom they had been written. ----- Footnote 99: One of the scouts killed in this battle was a great admirer of Buffalo Bill, whose manners, methods, and appearance he aped as well as he could. He rejoiced in an unfortunate sobriquet, which was received in this wise: General Sheridan, seeking Buffalo Bill to lead a hunting expedition on one occasion, was met by this swaggerer, with the remark that Buffalo Bill was gone away, and when Buffalo Bill was gone he was Buffalo Bill himself. “The h—l you are!” said Sheridan contemptuously. “Buffalo Chip, you mean!” The poor braggart never got away from the name of “Buffalo Chip Charlie.” He was a brave man for all his vanity, and the soldiers were sorry enough for their mockery when they buried him that night at the foot of the buttes, where he had fallen in the attack on the cave. CHAPTER TEN A Decisive Blow I. Mackenzie’s Winter Battle