Little did I think at that time that I had captured a horse which, for four years afterwards was the fastest runner in the state of Nebraska, but such proved to be the fact.

[Illustration:  THE KILLING OF TALL BULL.]

I jumped on his back and rode him down to the spot where the prisoners were corraled.  One of the squaws among the prisoners suddenly began crying in a pitiful and hysterical manner at the sight of this horse, and upon inquiry I found that she was Tall Bull’s wife, the same squaw that had killed one of the white women and wounded the other.  She stated that this was her husband’s favorite war-horse, and that only a short time ago she had seen Tall Bull riding him.  I gave her to understand that her liege lord had passed in his mortal chips and that it would be sometime before he would ride his favorite horse again, and I informed her that henceforth I should call the gallant steed “Tall Bull,” in honor of her husband.

Late in the evening our wagon train arrived, and placing the wounded woman, Mrs. Weichel, in the ambulance—­she having been kindly attended to by the surgeons,—­and gathering up the prisoners—­the squaws and papooses—­and captured stock, we started at once for the South Platte River, eight miles distant, and there went into camp.

Next morning General Carr issued an order that all the money found in the village should be turned over to the adjutant.  About one thousand dollars was thus collected, and the entire amount was given to Mrs. Weichel.  The command then proceeded to Fort Sedgwick, from which point the particulars of our fight, which took place on Sunday, July 11th, 1869, were telegraphed to all parts of the country.

We remained at this post for two weeks, during which General Augur, of the Department of the Platte, paid us a visit, and highly complimented the command for the gallant service it had performed.  For this fight at Summit Springs General Carr and his command were complimented not only in General Orders, but received a vote of thanks from the Legislatures of Nebraska and Colorado—­as Tall Bull and his Indians had long been a terror to the border settlements—­and the resolutions of thanks were elegantly engrossed and sent to General Carr.

The wounded white woman was cared for in the hospital at this post, and after her recovery she soon married the hospital steward, her former husband having been killed by the Indians.

Our prisoners were sent to the Whetstone Agency, on the Missouri River, where Spotted Tail and the friendly Sioux were then living.  The captured horses and mules were distributed among the officers, scouts and soldiers.  Among the animals that I thus obtained were my Tall Bull horse, and a pony which I called “Powder Face,” and which afterwards became quite celebrated, as he figured prominently in the stories of Ned Buntline.