Battle of Pumpkin Creek

"We had been creeping and floundering through the drifts for some time, keeping as quiet as possible and taking every precaution to screen ourselves from the watchful eyes of the Indians in the hollow below. Suddenly a shot rang out, sharp and clear in the desert stillness. A private in the troop, in the other wing, had pushed too far forward in his eagerness to get a shot, and exposed his body to view over the snow-covered ridge for an instant. A puff of smoke from the camp below, followed by the crack of a rifle, and Private Douglass pitched forward over the ridge, shot through the head. Further concealment was useless and both divisions of the little command opened fire simultaneously. I stationed my men on all the elevated points about the rude fortifications the Indians had hurriedly thrown up. We kept up a heavy fire until dark, when I saw that such methods would prove futile. The Indians were too securely entrenched; they must be either shelled or starved out. Under cover of darkness I sent a courier back to Colonel Miles asking for a Gatling gun, then disposed my men around the hostile camp, forming a chain guard. In that way there could be no reliefs, and during the long hours of that bitter night we suffered intensely. When daylight again straggled slowly over the bleak hills, I examined more carefully the position taken by the hostiles. They were actually inside of a great hollow rock, the most remarkable natural fortification I had ever seen. With provisions, water, and good weather, six men could have held a regiment off for a month. Shortly after I withdrew a part of my force, ordering the rest to keep up a vigorous fire. At that moment, however, a scout rode out to me, and reported that the Indians wished to surrender. I knew that some change of conditions, which had so far escaped us, must have forced the hostiles to this decision. Glancing over the dazzling horizon I saw, far to the west, mere specks on the waste of snow, a body of horsemen approaching. I determined to postpone the surrender of the Indians until the identity of the riders should reveal itself. On they came, their horses throwing up clouds of snow as they galloped toward us. Could they be hostiles? No; the sharp eyes of the Indians had seen them first, and they were willing to give up a practically impregnable position. Finally we saw them rise in their stirrups, and a cheer—a very faint one, but no less a good trooper cheer—came down on the wind. We leaped to our feet and cheered back. It was Captain Snyder, now Colonel Snyder, with re-enforcements. After acquainting himself with the situation, Captain Snyder ordered me to accept the surrender of the hostiles, and with them that night we returned to the post."

— Sergeant Thaddeus B. Glover, after 1881