Most of them were naked, and as their persons were painted in gaudy
colors and decorated with strips of red flannel, red blankets and gay
war-bonnets, their appearance presented a scene of picturesque
barbarism, fascinating but repulsive. As they numbered about six
hundred, the chances of whipping them did not seem overwhelmingly in
our favor, yet Nesmith and I concluded we would give them a little
fight, provided we could engage them without going beyond the ridge.
But all our efforts were in vain, for as we advanced they retreated,
and as we drew back they reappeared and renewed their parade and
noisy demonstrations, all the time beating their drums and yelling
lustily. They could not be tempted into a fight where we desired it,
however, and as we felt unequal to any pursuit beyond the ridge
without the assistance of the infantry and artillery, we re-crossed
the river and encamped with Rains. It soon became apparent that the
noisy demonstrations of the Indians were intended only as a blind to
cover the escape of their women and children to a place of safety in
the mountains.

Next morning we took up our march without crossing the river; and as
our route would lead us by the point on the opposite bank where the
Indians had made their picturesque display the day before, they at an
early hour came over to our side, and rapidly moved ahead of us to
some distant hills, leaving in our pathway some of the more
venturesome young braves, who attempted, to retard our advance by
opening fire at long range from favorable places where they lay
concealed. This fire did us little harm, but it had the effect of
making our progress so slow that the patience of every one but
General Rains was well-nigh exhausted.

About 2 o'clock in the afternoon we arrived well up near the base of