without falling in with any Indians, Backus turned back to Camp Bidwell, and Sprague proceeded.
No sooner had this occurred than signs of the enemy began to appear, who were encountered, 125 strong, about two miles south from the road. While the troops were passing an open space between the lake and the steep side of a mountain they were attacked by the savages hidden in trenches made by land-slides, and behind rocks. Sprague, being surprised, and unable either to climb the mountain or swim the lake, halted to take in the situation. The attacking parties were in the front and rear, but he observed that those in the rear were armed with bows and arrows, while those in front had among them about twenty-five rifles. The former were leaving their hiding-places to drive him upon the latter. Observing this, he made a sudden charge to the rear, escaping unharmed and returning to Camp Bidwell.
Captain Starr then determined to hold his company at that post, and coöperate with Camp Alvord against those Indians. But when Sprague arrived there by another route he found the cavalry half dismounted by a recent raid of these ubiquitous thieves, and the other half absent in pursuit;[1] thus a good opportunity of beginning a winter campaign was lost. But an important discovery had been made of the principal rendezvous of the Oregon Snake Indians—a knowledge which the regular army turned to account when they succeeded the volunteer service.
In October, before Curry had thoroughly tested his plan of a winter campaign, orders were received to muster out the volunteers, and with them he retired from the service. He was succeeded in the command of the department by Lieutenant-colonel Drake, who in turn was mustered out in December. Little by little the whole volunteer force was disbanded, until in June 1866 there remained in the service only com-
- ↑ James Alderson of Jacksonville, a good man, who was on guard, was killed in this raid. Portland Oregonian, Dec. 4, 1865.
