(From our Gibson Correspondent) Many years ago, one afternoon, a little party started out from Tullhassee Mission (in the Creek Nation) to go down into the Arkansas bottoms for the purpose of gathering wild grapes.
There were, in a buggy, a lady and two or three children and the writer, then a young girl. Also, two young men went along, with one horse between them, to “ride and tie,” or to ride double, as their fancy might choose.
We went two or three miles, until, far down the river bottom, we found the grapes, rich bunches hanging in beautiful profusion from vines running over tall cottonwood trees.
The boys climbed the trees and threw the grapes down to us, until we had gathered as many as we could well carry when we started back.
On the way, the horse ridden by the two older boys bolted and began running and one of the young men, who was eating a hunk of gingerbread, was thrown to the ground.
Dazed and looking around, he enquired, “where’s that bread?”
The troops under Gen. Howard seem to have come down to serious work with the Indians on Clear Water. The Indians were well posted and fought well, which was not surprising.
The troops attacked, treating the Indians as they would any other body of well-armed men, and after considerable loss drove them from their position. The fight was a deliberate trial of strength, and the Indians were worsted.
