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MORE ABOUT BUFFALO BILL'S RED SKINS.

AN AMBUSCADE AND SLAUGHTER OF TROOPS.

The Red Indians now at the American Exhibition have communicated many details of stirring events in their history which had before been imperfectly known. In a little book, entitled, "Red Shirt, Chief of the Sioux Nation," which is just about to be published, the capture of Fort Phil, Carney is thus vivdly described:p---

It was just when the United States officers were chating at their inability to reach their subtle foes that a baud of twenty Indians, headed by the Sioux Chief, Crazy Horses, rode up to the settlement at Fort Phil, Carney, mounted on splendid horses, maneuvered around the station, firing at and picking off any helpless resident who incautiously exposed a mark for the fatal bullet. The soldiers returned the fire, but the Indians, instead of retiring, drew closer to the fort, galloping around it, as is customary in Indian warfare, firing all the time. It was irritating and galling to the Commander to see a little force like this, not a quarter as strong as his own, openly defying him in the broad daylight, while the people in the fort grumbled at his inactivity. Goaded at last by the persistent attacks of his enemies, he opened his gates and sallies out to drive back the Indians.

LEADING THE TROOPS INTO A TRAP.

There were no signs of any other Red Men. The country for miles around was clear. Yet, though they saw the troops approaching, the Indians, contrary to their custom, retired but slowly, every now and then swooping back to fire a shot at their pursuing enemies. The Whites had already lost some of their best men. They were maddened at having been kept for weeks without a chance of getting at their foe, and they rode their horses at their hardest after the band of Indians, who were now flying from them, and keeping just without range. The road from the fort was a level one across the plain, but about six miles distant it passes between two shallow creeks. Beyond the creeks on either side were steep hills, wooded, and offering coplete shelter. In these woods Red Cloud had posted a strong force of his best fighting braves. On either end of the gorge strong parties of Indians lay concealed. It was Red Cloud who had sent the fiery Crazy Horse up to the fort to make feigned attacks, and draw the white garrison in pursuit, and his heart was gladdened at last by seeing the Indians galloping down the road, and the white men charging after them at the most furious pace. On they came, pursuers and pursued, at a break-neck gallop, the Indian ponies flagging, but bravely struggling on, and the white men gaming upon the little band of desperadoes.

A DETERMINED BAND.

Into the gorge they came, flushed with the hope of coming victory. But now a terrible change comes over the scene. From every rock and from behind every tree, in response to the shrill note of Red Cloud, rings out the wild Indian warcry from the warriors concealed at each end of the gorge across the road. On either sie of the hills the ambushed Indians on their agile ponies bear down in solid masses, leaping across the shallow creeks, and charging headlong through the startled soldiery. In that first rush the Red Men lost three of their braves, but many of the Whites bit the dust. The soldiers from the from had just been through the civil war. They were injured to campaigning; they had faced dangers without number; and they determined to show the Red Man how the white soldier could fight. Turning their horses loose, they jumped to the ground and formed square--some lying on their faces and rapidly loading and firing, others kneeling and dishcharging their rifles from that position; and all determined to do or die on te spot. Ten times the Indians charged down those hills upon that devoted little band, but never a white soldier stirred. No artifice of Red Cloud, clever as he was, could break the solid square; each and all recognised that their only chance of safety lay in fighting shoulder to shoulder.

COLD-BLOODED SLAUGHTER.

Foiled in their efforts to cause a stampede among the soldiers, the Indians altered their tactics, and kept up a persistent rifle fire until every man of that little group of heroes had fallen. Not one escaped; not one tried to escape. Then, with many a wild whoop, the savage Red Man fell upon his fallen foes, and the scalping knife and tomahawk finished what the rifle had begun. The arms and ammunition were the greatest prizes taken, and many of the tribes who had before fought with a simple bow and arrow, had now the trusty weapons of civilization in their hands.

THE FORT TAKEN

Leaving the field of battle the Red Men made all the haste back to Fort Phil, Carney. Here the fight was renewed; but the resistance was slight, and the Red Men carried the fort by assault, every White within its palisades being killed. The scalps of two hundred Whites adorned the Red Men's belts. It was a great victory for the Red Man; his spoils were enormous. The ammunition which he had been wanting was now plentiful, and the United States Government began to realise that it was no common foe whom they were fighting, and that the man at its head was one fitted to cope with the best Generals they had in their service.

MORE ABOUT BUFFALO BILL'S RED SKINS.

AN AMBUSCADE AND SLAUGHTER OF TROOPS.

The Red Indians now at the American Exhibition have communicated many details of stirring events in their history which had before been imperfectly known. In a little book, entitled, "Red Shirt, Chief of the Sioux Nation," which is just about to be published, the capture of Fort Phil, Carney is thus vivdly described:p---

It was just when the United States officers were chating at their inability to reach their subtle foes that a baud of twenty Indians, headed by the Sioux Chief, Crazy Horses, rode up to the settlement at Fort Phil, Carney, mounted on splendid horses, maneuvered around the station, firing at and picking off any helpless resident who incautiously exposed a mark for the fatal bullet. The soldiers returned the fire, but the Indians, instead of retiring, drew closer to the fort, galloping around it, as is customary in Indian warfare, firing all the time. It was irritating and galling to the Commander to see a little force like this, not a quarter as strong as his own, openly defying him in the broad daylight, while the people in the fort grumbled at his inactivity. Goaded at last by the persistent attacks of his enemies, he opened his gates and sallies out to drive back the Indians.

LEADING THE TROOPS INTO A TRAP.

There were no signs of any other Red Men. The country for miles around was clear. Yet, though they saw the troops approaching, the Indians, contrary to their custom, retired but slowly, every now and then swooping back to fire a shot at their pursuing enemies. The Whites had already lost some of their best men. They were maddened at having been kept for weeks without a chance of getting at their foe, and they rode their horses at their hardest after the band of Indians, who were now flying from them, and keeping just without range. The road from the fort was a level one across the plain, but about six miles distant it passes between two shallow creeks. Beyond the creeks on either side were steep hills, wooded, and offering coplete shelter. In these woods Red Cloud had posted a strong force of his best fighting braves. On either end of the gorge strong parties of Indians lay concealed. It was Red Cloud who had sent the fiery Crazy Horse up to the fort to make feigned attacks, and draw the white garrison in pursuit, and his heart was gladdened at last by seeing the Indians galloping down the road, and the white men charging after them at the most furious pace. On they came, pursuers and pursued, at a break-neck gallop, the Indian ponies flagging, but bravely struggling on, and the white men gaming upon the little band of desperadoes.

A DETERMINED BAND.

Into the gorge they came, flushed with the hope of coming victory. But now a terrible change comes over the scene. From every rock and from behind every tree, in response to the shrill note of Red Cloud, rings out the wild Indian warcry from the warriors concealed at each end of the gorge across the road. On either sie of the hills the ambushed Indians on their agile ponies bear down in solid masses, leaping across the shallow creeks, and charging headlong through the startled soldiery. In that first rush the Red Men lost three of their braves, but many of the Whites bit the dust. The soldiers from the from had just been through the civil war. They were injured to campaigning; they had faced dangers without number; and they determined to show the Red Man how the white soldier could fight. Turning their horses loose, they jumped to the ground and formed square--some lying on their faces and rapidly loading and firing, others kneeling and dishcharging their rifles from that position; and all determined to do or die on te spot. Ten times the Indians charged down those hills upon that devoted little band, but never a white soldier stirred. No artifice of Red Cloud, clever as he was, could break the solid square; each and all recognised that their only chance of safety lay in fighting shoulder to shoulder.

COLD-BLOODED SLAUGHTER.

Foiled in their efforts to cause a stampede among the soldiers, the Indians altered their tactics, and kept up a persistent rifle fire until every man of that little group of heroes had fallen. Not one escaped; not one tried to escape. Then, with many a wild whoop, the savage Red Man fell upon his fallen foes, and the scalping knife and tomahawk finished what the rifle had begun. The arms and ammunition were the greatest prizes taken, and many of the tribes who had before fought with a simple bow and arrow, had now the trusty weapons of civilization in their hands.

THE FORT TAKEN

Leaving the field of battle the Red Men made all the haste back to Fort Phil, Carney. Here the fight was renewed; but the resistance was slight, and the Red Men carried the fort by assault, every White within its palisades being killed. The scalps of two hundred Whites adorned the Red Men's belts. It was a great victory for the Red Man; his spoils were enormous. The ammunition which he had been wanting was now plentiful, and the United States Government began to realise that it was no common foe whom they were fighting, and that the man at its head was one fitted to cope with the best Generals they had in their service.