He was an excellent pilot, and handled his boat in those swift and dangerous waters with remarkable dexterity.
With Richard and me at our station in the pilothouse the little steamer went flying down-stream past islands, around bends, and over sandbars at a rate that was exhilarating, but sometimes a little disquieting to men who had done most of their navigating on the deck of a Western pony.

Presently, far away inland, I thought I could see horses grazing, and reported this belief to General Miles.

The general pointed out a large tree on the bank, and asked the captain if he could land the boat there.
"I can not only land her there; I can make her climb the tree if you think it would be any use," returned March.
He brought the boat skillfully alongside the tree, and let it go at that, as the general could see no particular advantage in sending the steamboat up the tree.
Richard and I were ordered to take our horses and push out as rapidly as possible to see if there were any Indians in the vicinity.
Meanwhile, General Miles kept his soldiers in readiness to march instantly if we reported any work for them to do.
As we rode off, Captain March, sang out: "Boys, if there was only a heavy dew on the grass, I could send the old craft right along after you." It was a false alarm, however.

The objects I had seen proved to be Indian graves, with only good Indians in them.

On arriving at Glendive Creek we found that Colonel Rice and his company of the Fifth Infantry which had been sent on ahead by General Miles had built a good little fort with their trowel bayonets.