egg it was prime for soap. It was clear as
tea, if it was left in a cup it was easily mistaken for it.

During the days when New Ulm was expecting a second Indian attack and
the town was full of refugees, I was ordered to destroy some buildings
on the outskirts. I started with a hotel and opened all the straw ticks
that had been used for refugees beds and threw the contents all around.
I believed all the people had left but thought I would go in every room
and make sure of this. In one room I heard a queer noise and going to
the bed found a small baby that had been tomahawked. Its little head was
dented in two places. I took it with me and went out. Its grandmother
who owned the place came running frantically and took it from me. Its
father and mother had been killed and it had been brought in by the
refugees. In the hasty departure it had been overlooked, each one
supposing the other had taken it.

On the 25th day of August after the massacre of the 22nd, around New Ulm
and in that vicinity, a little boy who had saved himself from the
Indians by secreting himself in the grass of the swamps, came into New
Ulm and said there were twelve people alive and a number of bodies to be
buried sixteen miles from New Ulm. He said he had seen a man who was
driving a horse and wagon, shot and scalped, but could not tell what had
become of the woman and baby that were riding with him. The troops
marched to the place, having the boy as a guide, buried a number of
bodies and brought the twelve survivors to New Ulm. They could find no
trace of the woman and baby, although the father's body was found and
buried.

Later the troops marched to Mankato, stopping at an empty farm house
sixteen miles from New Ulm for the night. This farm house was on a small
prairie surrounded by higher land. The sentries were ordered to watch
the horizon with the greatest care for fear the skulking Indians might
ambush the troops. It was a night when the rain fell spasmodically
alternating with moonlight. Suddenly one of the sentries saw a figure on
the horizon and watched it disappear in the grass, then appear and crawl
along a fence in his direction. He called, "Who goes there?" at the same
time cocking his gun ready to shoot. At the answer, "Winnebago" he
fired. At that moment there had been a little shower and his gun refused
to fire. Later he found that the cap had become attached to the hammer
and the powder must have been dampened by the shower. He