lla Walla.
Would I escort them to Canyon City? I said certainly, I would do so, as
I would go within a few miles of that place on my return to camp. Lieut.
Bonsteil of the regulars spoke up and said he would provide them with an
escort at any time. But Mrs. McGregor told him plainly that she would
not go with the soldiers that if they got into trouble the soldiers
would run away--but the volunteers would stay with them. The Lieutenant
suggested that "it was a fine recommendation for the United States
Army." "I know the army better than you do, Lieutenant, and have known
it much longer, and I will not risk my life and the lives of my children
with them," said the plain spoken Scotch lady. The next morning, bright
and early, we started out. The ladies were riding in an ambulance,
driven by a soldier. When near half way to Bear Valley and near Mountain
Springs, we crossed the fresh trail of a strong party of Indians, but we
arrived at our destination safely, and next morning returned to camp.
Here we rested a couple of days and, Chamberlain returning, we moved to
our head camp at Grindstone. We had accomplished nothing in the way of
destroying hostiles, but had prevented them from scattering and
committing all kinds of atrocities as they had done before reaching John
Day Valley.

Arriving at our camp we found ourselves without any provisions.
Accordingly Gen. Brown and I started to Prineville with a four horse
team to obtain supplies to send back to the men who were to follow. We
took along a teamster and the quartermaster. Starting in the evening we
arrived at the crossing of Beaver Creek, and I captured an old hen, all
that was left at the ranch after its plunder by the Indians in June. We
drove until midnight and arriving at Watson Springs, stopped for the
night. We dressed the hen and had the driver to sit up the balance of
the night and boil her. When daylight came we tried to breakfast off the
hen, but it was a rank failure, and we harnessed up and drove on,
getting a meal at a ranch ten miles from Prineville, to which place we
drove that night.

Thus ended my last Indian campaign, and one of which I never felt any
great amount of pride. In one respect it was a rank failure, due, I have
always thought, to the rank cowardice of some one--probably more than
one. We had, however accomplished some good, as before remarked, and
probably saved some lives, and that was worth all the hardships we had
endured.

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