While they were talking two travelers were seen riding along the road some hundreds of yards away.  In vain the men on both sides of the river attempted to warn them of danger.  The Indians were seen to ride up to them and deliberately shoot them down.  This of itself should have warned Jackson of the desperate character of the outlaws.  But no, he was either too cowardly to act intelligently or too indifferent of the consequences to act as he was advised.  In fact, there is a certain class of army officers who deem it a disgrace to accept advice from a civilian.  At any rate he crossed his wounded men over the river in canoes to the cabin held by the party of stock men, and mounting his men went six miles up the river to the ford and put the river between himself and command and danger.

As soon as the squaws and children reached the men, a party headed by “Black Jim” mounted and started down the shores of the lake butchering the settlers.  They came first to the Body ranch, where the men were getting wood from the hills and heartlessly butchered them in cold blood.  The manner is best told in Mrs. Body’s own words in a letter to me in which she says: 

“I reside three miles from the Indian camp on Lost river.  The Indians had told us time and again that if the soldiers came to put them on the reservation they would kill every white settler.  Through hearing of these threats, we requested the messengers never to come with soldiers without first giving the settlers warning.  This they failed to do. . . .  The male portion of my family, not being aware of any disturbance, were out procuring firewood, and were suddenly attacked within a mile and a half of the house and butchered in cold blood.  About a quarter to twelve my daughter saw her husband’s team approaching the house at a rapid gait, and as the team reached the house she noticed that the wagon was covered with blood.  Thinking the team had run away she ran up the road to find him.  About a quarter of a mile from the house she discovered him.  I hastened after her with water, and as I arrived at the spot my daughter was stooping over the body of her husband.  Six Indians then dashed out of the brush on horseback.  Two of them rode up to me and asked if there were any white men at the house.  Not dreaming that there was anything wrong with the Indians, I told them that the team had run away and killed white man.  They then gave a warwhoop and rode off towards the house.  On examining my son-in-law, we found that he had been shot through the head.  We then knew that the redskins were on the warpath, and determined to find the other men.  Going a short distance we found my eldest son killed and stripped naked.  The four horses were gone.  About a quarter of a mile further on we saw more Indians in the timber where my husband was chopping wood, so we concluded we had better not go any further in that direction, and made our way to the hills.  My youngest son, a boy of thirteen