The Redskin Who Saved The White Man’s Hide

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On February 22, there had been a light snow during the night, but the Wyoming sun was shining when the cortege, a mile and a half long, reached the military cemetery at Fort Washakie. Troop E of the First U. S. Cavalry snapped to attention. The Indian police dismounted and stood rigidly opposite. The pallbearers, both red and white, gently removed the flag-draped coffin from the caisson and placed it at the grave. At a sign the keening of the women died down, and Father Roberts, assisted by the Reverend Sherman Coolidge (a full-blooded Arapahoe), read the Episcopal burial service. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and a squad from the First Cavalry fired the three volleys in salute. Bugler Veribloom, Troop E, First Cavalry, placed his bugle to his lips, and the long notes of “Taps” reached out over the valley and were echoed back by the foothills. All that was mortal of the battle-scarred chief rested deep in the snowcovered soil of his beloved Warm Valley.