Jack Stillwell and I were the only boys in the company, and naturally gravitated toward each other. We were friends as soon as we met and chums before we knew each other’s names. When the colonel asked for volunteers to go to Fort Wallace for help, Jack was among the first to announce himself. I wanted to go with him, but the colonel gave no heed to my request; even Jack discouraged me, for he knew I was too inexperienced. After Colonel Carpenter came to our relief Jack was not with him, which made me and others feel very uneasy. The day after Colonel Carpenter’s arrival we saw the mounted sentinel that had been posted by Colonel Carpenter on a high eminence in the hills about three miles from the island, signaling that a body of men was approaching, which created a flutter of excitement, but there was a strong sensation of security, mingled with a sense of dependence upon our black rescuers permeating our emaciated party, after being cooped up, so to say, for so long a period in dread and suspense. At least that was my sensation. I remember watching that vedette, horse and rider turning around and around, being the only moving object in that dim distance, indicating to the anxious watchers that either friend or foe was in the vicinity. As he showed no inclination to leave his post, it was soon evident he had no fear of the approaching column, and that friends were coming. Not long after a few horsemen were seen coming around the bend of the river bed, and among them was my friend Jack Stillwell. Nearly all of us ran to meet the party. Soon Jack jumped from his horse, and in his joy to see so many of us alive again, he permitted his tears free flow down his good honest cheeks. I kept up correspondence with him all these years past. Last year he died.[38] He was a big-hearted, jovial fellow, brave to a fault. ----- Footnote 38: Stillwell studied law, and ultimately became a judge in Texas. He was a friend of Generals Miles and Custer—also of “Wild Bill” Hickok, “Texas Jack” Omohundro, and other famous figures on the frontier; and when he died, a couple of years ago, he was the subject of glowing tributes from high and low alike.—C. T. B. CHAPTER EIGHT Carpenter and His “Brunettes.”[39]<br>The Fight on Beaver Creek Carpenter had performed a very commendable thing in his march of over one hundred miles in two days for the relief of Forsyth. And it is marvelous that he had been able to find him in that vast expanse of country. He received high praise for it, which he fully deserved; but the battle which, with his black comrades, he fought three weeks later, elicited still more praise. The fight was one of the prettiest and most typical of any in our Indian campaigns; and I am fortunate in being able to give it in General Carpenter’s own words, written especially for this book, the notes appended being my own contribution.—C. T. B. * * * * *