Again, as at Big Hole, Joseph failed to anticipate trouble from other quarters than Howard’s. The one-armed general was six days’ march in the rear. Surely they could relax now. Upon reaching the Bear Paw Mountains he considered his position secure. He posted no scouts. Joseph obviously believed they had crossed the international boundary. Later, as he looked back in retrospection, he said: I sat down in a fat and beautiful country. I had won my freedom and the freedom of my people. There were many empty places in the lodges and the council, but we were in a land where we would not be forced to live in a place we did not want. I believed that if I could remain safe at a distance and talk straight to the men that would be sent by the Great Father, I could get back to the Wallowa Valley and remain in peace. That is why I did not allow my young men to kill and destroy the white settlers after I began to fight. I wanted to leave a clean trail, and if there were dead soldiers on that trail, I could not be to blame. I had sent out runners to Sitting Bull to tell him that another band of red men had been forced to run from the soldiers of the Great Father, and to propose that we join forces if we were attacked. My people were recovering their health and the wounded getting better of their hurts.[211] Joseph’s coveted felicity was roughly arrested on the dawn of September 30. His brief respite was assailed by the dual forces of nature and men. Snow flurries whipped the lodge flaps. Horses milled restlessly. An Indian youth slipped out to reconnoiter. He perceived the rapid approach of a formidable force of cavalry. The alarm was given. Instantly the Nez Percé camp was churning with commotion. A hundred ponies were laden with squaws and papooses. They fled north under an escort of sixty braves. The balance of the encampment fairly clawed out positions of defense along a crescent-shaped ravine called Snake Creek. By this time the military was in position. Colonel Miles sized up the situation at a glance and barked commands: “Captain Hale, draw up on the south flank.” “McHugh, mount the Hotchkiss and wheel forward.” “Infantry, deploy and follow cavalry charge; swing the four-pound howitzer to north.” “Troops of Second Cavalry, surround enemy pony herd.” “Lieutenant McClernand, retrieve the fleeing train.” “Main cavalry, ready for frontal assault.” He surveyed the resulting formation, raised his arm, and shouted, “Attack!”[212] Reins were loosed, spurs clicked, and away rolled a thundering avalanche of mounted might. The charging line raced headlong toward the Indian camp. It was the same speed and precision that had broken the power of the Sioux and Cheyenne nations. The Nez Percé grimly waited. At a hundred yards they opened fire, and the battle broke with a roar.