The Indians, feeling that they had now a sufficient advantage, attempted another charge, as the result of which they lost White Antelope, one of the bravest of their chiefs.
This dampened their ardor, but they kept up an incessant firing that rattled against the log breastworks like hailstones.
Fearing that the Indians would soon start a fire and burn them out, Sibley ordered a retreat.

The two scouts were left behind to keep up a desultory fire after night had fallen, in order to make the Indians think the party was still in its breastworks.

Then the other men in single file struggled up the precipitous sides of the mountain above them, marching, stumbling, climbing, and falling according to the character of the ground they passed over.
The men left behind finally followed on.

The temperature fell below zero, and the night was one of suffering and horror.

At last they gained a point in the mountains about twenty-five miles distant from Crook's command.
Halting in a sheltered cave, they got a little sleep and started out just in time to escape observation by a large war-party which was scouting in their direction.
At night the jaded party, more dead than alive, forded Tongue River up to their armpits.