THE OFFICER-SPY.

Kit Carey knew Big Foot, the Sioux chief, as a brave, cunning, and dangerous man, and one whose influence was great among the different tribes.

Colonel Forsythe, he knew, was watching him, but would the soldiers be able to surround the Sioux leader and force his surrender before aid came from the hostiles in the Bad Lands, was a question hard to answer.

Still he was well aware that there was no better officer in the service than Colonel Forsythe, and if not hampered by orders from Washington,[3] he would accomplish all that the commanding general in the field expected of him.

On his way to scout around the band of Chief Big Foot, Kit Carey visited a fourth squad of his Indian scouts, and the largest one in point of numbers.

He sent four redskins from there to the band near the Bernard ranch, and dispatched two couriers, one to General Carr's command, another to General Brooke, with a full report of the situation as he had thus far discovered it.

In his report he stated:

"From what I can learn from my Indian scouts, old Chief Red Cloud is forced to remain among the hostiles, and there is some trouble between the Ogallalas and Brules. The following chiefs are known to be among the hostiles: Kicking Bear, Short Bull, High Hawk, Turning Hawk, and Little Wound, the last most dangerous of all. My Indian cavalry nearly surround the hostiles' camp, for I have seven squads of men in hiding, with a couple of men from each scouting by day and night. Each squad has orders to send couriers at once with any information of reinforcements of the hostiles, or movements of raiding bands. I go now toward the advanced camp of Chief Big Foot, whom Colonel Forsythe is moving against. If Big Foot's band is not plotting mischief I shall be surprised."

Written in duplicate on copying-paper, these reports were dispatched with all haste, and, scouting his way as he went, Kit Carey moved toward Wounded Knee Creek, where Big Foot's band were camped.

It was perilous and tedious work for the daring officer and the two Indian scouts who accompanied him; but he at last reached the vicinity of the Indian camp, and, unfolding his blanket, proceeded to carefully "make up."

In other words, the daring soldier intended to "play Injun," and get at the bottom facts of the situation.

His Indian scouts shook their heads dubiously as he progressed with his toilet, but aided him all in their power.His handsome mustache was first sacrificed, and his face clean shaven.

Next came the coloring of the skin, face, neck, hands, and arms to the elbows.

The war-paint followed, with a wig of long, black hair, the head-dress and war-bonnet, buckskin suit of hunting-shirt, leggings, and moccasins.

The "ghost shirt[4]" was next put on, and last the never-failing blanket.

If any one could then detect the dashing, handsome Lieutenant Kit Carey of the Seventh, beneath the paint, feathers, and make-up of an Indian chief, a keen eye he would have, indeed.

Thus accoutred for the work Kit Carey left the two Indians in camp with his horse, and started forth upon his mission of danger, for he had determined to know just how matters stood with Big Foot and his band.

The camp of the Sioux was on a level strip of ground, along the banks of a ravine some fifteen feet deep, and from fifty to a hundred feet in width.

The tepees of the Indians extended along the banks of the ravine for several hundred yards, and were formed in the shape of a crescent.

To reach the camp from the rear, by way of the ravine, Kit Carey found it no easy task; but it was accomplished, and at last he glided into the midst of the hostile band.

Dressed as he was, and it being night, he did not fear detection, for he spoke the Sioux tongue perfectly.

Then, too, his walk, movements, and appearance was that of a Sioux chief.His greatest danger lay in not being recognized, but this he intended to overcome by claiming to be a Sioux chief, long absent from the tribe, and giving the name of a chief whom he knew to have been killed near Fort F—— some months before, and whose fate was not known.

There were a few camp-fires, with groups of bucks, squaws, and children, about them, and one apart, where only warriors were seen.

Indians were moving to and fro, and it was very evident to the officer that some move of importance was about to be undertaken.

Folding his blanket closely about him he lay down in the shadow of a tepee, and watched and listened, for he was within hearing of the voices of the warriors about the fire, where no squaws or children were allowed.

Several had spoken to him, but with a grunt he had passed on, and thrown himself down near the tepee.

The light of the fire shone upon the faces of the Indians on the other side from where he lay, and one face he recognized at a glance.

It was the Chief Red Hatchet, and he was talking to the others in an earnest, vindictive tone.

A few words that he said reached the ears of the officer-spy, and he at once arose, glided away among the tepees, dropped down into the ravine unseen, and made his way rapidly back to his camp.

His Indian scouts were on the alert, and the three were soon flanking the camp at Wounded Knee and riding rapidly in the direction in which Colonel Forsythe's command was expected to approach.

It was just before dawn that the sound of many hoofs fell upon his ears, and he drew rein to await the approach of the command, for he knew that the splendid Seventh Cavalry were on the march.

"Now, Chief Big Foot, you will never carry out the plan Chief Red Hatchet has decided upon, for the avengers of the brave Custer are hot on your trail."

Soon after the soldiers came in sight, and then Kit Carey hailed:

"Ho, the Seventh Cavalry!"

Instantly a halt was ordered, carbines clicked, and a stern order came:

"Advance and report yourself, sir!"

To the surprise of the advance guard three horsemen rode forward in the darkness, who appeared to be Indians.

"I am Lieutenant Carey of the Seventh, in disguise, and desire to see Colonel Forsythe," was the startling response of the supposed Indian chief, as he rode forward toward his regiment.

The men could hardly be kept from cheering when the gallant Carey appeared in the disguise of an Indian chief, for it told them that he had just come from some daring venture, for which he was famous.

"Ah! Carey, it is you in the guise of a Sioux chief?" cried Captain Wallace of K troop, riding forward and grasping his hand. "It is dangerous work for you, Lieutenant Carey, to ride upon the Seventh Cavalry rigged out as a Sioux chief in full war-paint."

"I joined the Sioux, Captain Wallace, to learn what Big Foot and his band were up to, and I have news for Colonel Forsythe," was Kit Carey's response.

"Then I will keep my advance guard at a halt and ride back with you, Carey, to the colonel," responded Captain Wallace, who little dreamed how close to him the Angel of Death was hovering, though had he known his fate, so soon to follow, the brave soldier would not have hesitated an instant in his duty.[5]

So back along the column of troopers they went in the early dawn, the soldiers supposing that the captain was taking in a Sioux chief prisoner, whom the two Indian police had captured.

Colonel Forsythe was soon found, and Captain Wallace said in his pleasant way:

"I do not bring you a Sioux prisoner, colonel, but Lieutenant Kit Carey."

"Lieutenant Carey! who would have ever suspected you of being other than a Sioux chief?" cried Colonel Forsythe, as Captain Wallace rode up to the commander of the troops.

[3] It is a well known fact that interference from Washington, writes an officer in the field, has proven more dangerous to a commander than the enemy in his front. The foe at his face he can fight, but the foe two thousand miles in his rear unnerves ever so gallant and able an officer.