He a.s.sured the cowmen that he was well acquainted with the old warrior and felt certain that he would have no difficulty in persuading him to return to the reservation with all his followers.

After the captain had arranged his guards around the canyon in such a manner as he thought would preclude the possibility of the Indians making their escape, he busied himself with preparations for encamping down the creek. While he was thus engaged, he was approached by Ben Jackson, the noted scout and buffalo hunter, who saluted him in military fashion, as far as his knowledge of that accomplishment would permit, and proposed that he, the captain, give him a despatch to be delivered to the commander at Fort Dodge requesting him to send more troops to aid in capturing the Indians. This despatch he promised to deliver within a few hours. The captain, not knowing the resourcefulness of the man making the request, replied that he could not spare an escort for the undertaking. To which the scout replied that he did not need an escort as he was well acquainted with the country and did not have any fears about the prompt delivery of the message. The captain answered that such a course of proceedings was unnecessary, as he was well acquainted with Dull Knife personally. He said that he intended to hold the conference with him the next morning, and that when matters were set before him in the proper light, there would be no further trouble in the case, as he was positive the Indians would be perfectly satisfied and return to the agency without any further difficulty. When this short interview had been completed, the captain proceeded down the creek and went into camp. In the meantime the pickets were on duty around the canyon, or rather were supposed to be, but, in some manner or other, Dull Knife's medicine hypnotized them as it did on the former occasion when he escaped from the North Canadian. I am not going to make any remarks about the private soldiers of this campaign, as they were ever ready and willing to do their duty if they had a proper officer to lead them; nor am I going to make any comments, nor pretend to fix the blame where it belongs, but will state the facts and let the reader judge for himself who was culpable in the matter; but it seems incredible that 250 Indians could come out of that canyon, supposedly well guarded, and pa.s.s through a cordon of pickets without a gun being fired.

Incredible it is, but, nevertheless, that is the unvarnished truth of the matter. When dawn appeared the following morning, the Indians had vanished, as if they had been swallowed up by the earth. Their trail indicated that they had gone northward. They pursued their line of flight to Crooked Creek, in Meade County, Kansas, and after crossing that stream near what is called the "Three Bends," they came to a hay camp that was conducted by G. S. Emerson. Here they did not give themselves up to their usual depredations, but contented themselves with taking some provisions and cutting up a pair of calf skin boots belonging to the proprietor. That they did not commit any murders, was due to the fact that the men of the outfit were absent. From there they proceeded to what was intended to be the county seat of Meade county, which development did not extend further than the erection of a story-and-a-half frame building, with an unfinished well nearby, at which the city fathers were working when the Indians arrived. They immediately set out to explore the contents of the house and surroundings. Their efforts were not rewarded very highly, but one thing attracted their attention, a grindstone standing near at hand. The sole occupant of the dwelling, Captain French, was compelled to perform the task of turning the grindstone while they were sharpening their knives. To test the acuteness of the finish they had put on their weapons, they contented themselves with drawing them across the captain's throat. To show him further that they were not at all unselfish in their attentions to him, the squaws lent a hand in pulling and hauling him around and inflicting all manners of abuse upon him, but they did not attempt to kill him. I asked the captain shortly afterwards why they did not take his life, and he replied that they knew better than try that. He stated that he had a picture of George Washington hanging on the wall of his dwelling, and they knew that if they killed him the government would soon be in pursuit of them. Poor old Cap! He did not know that the government was on their trail at the time.

Although there were four or five men working at the well at the time the Indians devoted their attention to the captain. They did not molest them but continued on their way northward. On their route they encountered a man, Wash Connors, who had been to Dodge City to do some trading. He had spent the previous night with a friend of mine, C. M. Rice, and set out early in the morning so as to reach his destination in good time, as he had some material for those who were digging the well at the new town-site. Mr. Rice urged him to remain and have breakfast with him, but he said that he was in a hurry and would attend to that duly when he reached his destination. With a good team of mules. .h.i.tched to his lumber wagon, he started off in good spirits, little thinking he would never reach the end of his journey. He was proceeding on his way in a brisk fashion and had come in sight of the town-site when the members of Dull Knife's band met him. They stopped him without any ceremony and attacked him before he could get out of his wagon. They cut his throat, tore the harness off his mules and went their way taking his team. The well-diggers saw the whole proceedings, but were unable to render a.s.sistance as they were not in a position to do so.

Leaving the victim of their murderous a.s.sault dying in his wagon, they set out toward the north again. Between the scene of their latest crime and the Arkansas they committed no further depredation. They crossed the river west of Dodge City, not far from where the present station of Cimmaron is located on the Santa Fe railroad. Their depredations after crossing the river were few, as there was little to attract their attention, excepting some wild cattle and the accompanying cowboys. They did not molest the latter as they had a wholesome respect for that individual by reason of the fact that he was generally armed with a brace of six-shooters and a Winchester rifle, and was an expert in the use of both. Meeting a cow-puncher under such conditions was a hazardous thing, as the Indian knew the cowboy would not trade even. They had no doubt about their ability to eventually kill him, but the price to be paid was too great, as he usually sent three or four of the wily redskins across the Great Divide before succ.u.mbing to their prowess, and they did not usually care to pay the price.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

By this time the whole country was aroused. The news was heralded abroad on the wings of the wind. The newspapers, as is their custom, in glaring headlines, magnified the extent of the depredations, and gave alarming accounts of the atrocities committed by the Indians. Everybody was on the lookout, those in the neighborhood fearing a visitation of the marauders, and those far away living in expectation of the next savage depredation.

The excitement reached such a high degree of intensity that the department ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Lewis to take charge of the field of action, which for some time had been a field of inaction as the gentleman who was supposed to be at the head of the movement against the Indians was but a poor apology for a successful military commander. It may be well to remark that this man was soon relegated to the military sc.r.a.p-heap in disgrace.

When Lieut-Col. Lewis was notified of the appointment, he responded with alacrity. He set out at once from Dodge City with his command. He soon was on the trail of the Indians. A short journey westward brought him to the point where the band had crossed the Arkansas on their way northward.

In the meantime the Indians were pursuing their way with considerable speed. They may have realized that another expedition would be organized to follow on their trail, or another commander would be put in charge of the one they had left so unceremoniously on the night of their escape, but whatever their conclusions were, they did not stop to commit any more outrages until they reached the North Beaver, or Sand Creek. On their arrival there, they saw they were about to have a fight on their hands, as the lieutenant-colonel had followed their trail with such speed that he was almost upon them. Escape for the time being was out of the question, and they resolved to fight. Lewis did not want to kill them, but preferred to have them surrender and return to the reservation. Such idea did not enter into Dull Knife's calculations, and he decided to fight rather than return to the place of his recent abode.

It was now getting late in the afternoon. Considerable sharp-shooting had been done on both sides for some time, and then a skirmish took place.

Each party was doing what execution it could without exposing itself to any more danger than was necessary. The Indians endeavored to make every shot count as their ammunition was getting scarce, and the soldiers were employing the same mode of warfare as their opponents, though it was not the scarcity of powder, but rather the desire to preserve their anatomy from the missiles of the enemy that induced them to seek shelter behind every bush and hillock. The lieutenant-colonel was a busy man, directing the operations of his troops, and looking after things in general. The battle lagged along until evening, without much evidence of success for either party. Towards evening Lewis rode out to the firing line to get a closer view of things and to lend his men the encouragement of his presence. When he reached the zone of fire, one of the Indian scouts approached him and advised him to dismount from his horse as he would very probably be shot if he remained exposed in such a manner to the fire of the enemy. The lieutenant-colonel did not heed the advice so freely given by his scout, and in less than ten minutes he received a bullet in the thigh. The missile struck an artery, and as a result, the lieutenant-colonel died a few hours later from loss of blood, (My authority for the above statement is G. W. Brown, who was lying not twenty feet away when the scout gave the warning of danger. This gentleman, is now living at Cushion Oil Field). He piloted the ambulance bearing the lieutenant colonel under the command of Lieutenant Gardner and escort to Fort Wallace that same night, as he was familiar with that part of the country owing to the fact that he had hunted buffalo all through that section of the country in the early days. After the escort had proceeded on its journey for about six miles, a rider returned to the lieutenant and told him that the lieutenant-colonel had died. This sad news was a shock to the company, as he was a man of the highest type of bravery, and his demise was regretted by every man in the command. When the news was first broken to the troops a look of grim determination settled upon the countenance of every man, which meant that at the first opportunity they would avenge the death of him who they loved so well. The fortunes of war averted the blow for the present, for, during the night, Dull Knife and his followers fled, leaving nothing behind but the embers of his camp fires to show where he had taken his stand. The soldiers started in hot pursuit, as they did not want their enemies to go unpunished. They had not followed the trail very far when they learned that the Indians had divided their forces and gone in different directions. Wild Hog, the chief adviser of Dull Knife went towards the north-east, over to Sappa Creek, where he and his followers murdered over forty persons, pillaged their stock and burned what they could not conveniently carry off. Dull Knife with the rest of the band headed due north. This division of the Indians compelled the soldiers to adopt the same method of procedure. They were accordingly organized into two divisions and set off in hot pursuit of their wily foes. From this time onward the expedition a.s.sumed the character of a running fight. This system of pillage, and plunder, on the part of the Indians, with the pursuit on the part of the soldiers, was maintained until the 7th Cavalry, under General Samuel D. Sturgis succeeded in capturing both bands on the Niobrara River in the vicinity of the place in which Camp Niobrara was built, and about 15 miles east of Camp Sheridan.

This event occured in the month of October, 1878, but I cannot give the exact date of the occurrence. The captives were then taken as prisoners of war to Fort Robinson, Neb., or, as it was then called, Camp Robinson.

They were placed in the guard house and held there until New Year's night, 1879, when they broke out, killed the guards and made their escape through the sand hills until they had almost reached the Wyoming line.

When the news was brought that Dull Knife had killed his guards and made his escape, everything was in a flutter of excitement. Preparations were immediately made for pursuit. At dawn, as soon as it was possible to observe the direction of the trail, the bugle sounded and the Third Cavalry mounted their horses and set out in pursuit of the wily old villain who had so often eluded them. They followed hastily all forenoon and the further they advanced, the clearer the signs manifested to them the fact that they were close upon the fleeing Indians. In the afternoon they overtook the band in the said hills close to the border line of Wyoming. When Captain Wessels rode up to them, he immediately ordered them to surrender. Dull Knife's reply to this was a rifle shot that killed an Indian scout belonging to the cavalry. He repeated with another shot at Captain Wessels. The bullet struck the captain but did not inflict a mortal wound. The action of Dull Knife was a sufficient guarantee that he did not intend to surrender, and immediately the troops poured a succession of volleys into the foe. When the smoke of battle cleared away, and the few who remained alive surrendered, it was discovered that Dull Knife himself, his daughter who was present, and about two thirds of his followers had all gone to the Happy Hunting Grounds together. After giving the proper attention to the wounded, and burying the dead, the troops with the prisoners returned to Camp Robinson. Among the number returning to the fort were Wild Hog and many other leading spirits of the movement. They were held there until the spring of 1879, when the leaders were sent to Dodge City, Ford county, Kansas to be tried for murder and other crimes.

I called upon those notable characters while they were supposed to be in durance vile, and found them the most conspicuous and best entertained men in prison. The representatives of different ill.u.s.trated newspapers were there, sketching their pictures, and treating them to cigars. It was certainly a very novel sight to me, and I thought it strange that the citizens of Dodge City had not formed a necktie party for the entertainment of the whole party of savages, for they were well aware of the characters of their guests and well acquainted with the amount of crime and rascality they had perpetrated almost within view of the town itself. However, everything seemed to be following along the even tenor of its way, and I came to the conclusion that Dodge City was a very law abiding city, and was a good town to live in (especially when one is acquainted with the early history of the place). I cannot refrain from remarking that, if a white man, or a body of white men, had been guilty of one-tenth of the crimes perpetrated by the Indians who were then sojourning in their town, they would have been hanged as high as they could be raised on a lariat rope, or shot to pieces in the streets.

Strange are the dealings of man with man.

CHAPTER XXII.

Great Awakening of the West; Buffalo Hunters; Quakers' Influence; Indian Disturbances; A Treaty Made and Broken, Etc.

When the first railroad construction train started West from the Missouri River, with its gangs of graders, tie-slingers, and track layers, the sound of the locomotive whistle proclaimed to the Indian more plainly than any language could do, that the days of his activity over that vast expanse of country were about to terminate, peaceably if possible, but forcibly if necessary. The company kept in its employ one or more buffalo hunters to supply the boarding car with fresh meat which was plentiful on the prairie in those days. The engineers had staked out the right-of-way, and established the different grades in advance, and everything was kept in good shape for the speedy progress of the work. The Indian saw all this. He also saw the graders, the tracklayers, the spike drivers, and heard the locomotive whistle. He saw the engineers and the buffalo hunters, but he failed to see the real cause of his trouble. He could not see the promoters of that great undertaking and enterprise, because they were beyond the reach of his limited vision. They were in their luxurious offices figuring on the possibilities and probabilities of one day declaring large dividends on that stupendous undertaking that was to reach out to the gold mines of Colorado and on through the mountains to the Pacific coast. The promoters could see at a glance that it was useless to expect any great returns from the capital invested if they were to be dependent on any freight or traffic from the Indian. They needed not to be told that he was not an agriculturist. He was not a stockman and had no use for agricultural implements such as threshers, sulky plows, fanning mills or corn sh.e.l.lers. He made his living by hunting and fishing and was to a certain extent self supporting and independent of all railroads. He was not accustomed to take his squaw and papooses to any foreign watering place to spend the summer. Whenever he felt like taking a few days'

recreation, he bundled his camp equipage and with his family started for some creek where there were plenty of fish and there remained until his visit was completed. Sometimes several families went together and had a big time talking over Indian customs and the ways of the white man. This had been their custom from time immemorial and any act performed by the white man to disturb his equanimity or distract him, was looked upon as an outrage and sacrilege, and any who did such things were served with summary punishment.

The capitalists could see at a glance that the Indians were not a cla.s.s of people to build up a profitable industry and felt it their duty to remove them from that section of the country in order to induce stockmen and farmers to occupy it. As a step in that direction they created a market for buffalo hides, which seemed to have the desired effect, for it was but a short time until many adventurous spirits who could gather together enough money to buy a span of ponies, a wagon and ammunition for the purpose, were engaged in the business, some as hunters, others as skinners. As soon as they had a load of hide they shipped them to market and with the proceeds prepared for another trip to the range again. Few but the hardiest and bravest young men could stand the dangers, trials, and exposure which they confronted in all kinds of weather.

There was one young man that I feel a pardonable pride in mentioning as engaged in that undertaking, namely W. F. Cody, who by his dexterity with the rifle had acquired the t.i.tle of "Buffalo Bill," and who had become famous as an Indian scout and had established an international reputation as the greatest marksman and horseback rider in the western plains. He was also chief of scouts and confidential friend of General Phil Sheridan, and at this writing is the owner and proprietor of Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show. His was a plain case of 'survival of the fittest.' The Indian looked upon his kind as trespa.s.sers and intruders and as he had no navy or war department behind him other than the tribal medicine man who decided the war movements of his tribe by incantations or by observation of the way the smoke blew from his camp fire, after deliberating on the general condition of the country, the signs of the moon, as well as the inroads the hunters were making on the buffalo which he considered his private property, decided to go on the warpath and kill off a few buffalo hunters and discourage any future invasion of what he felt was his private right.

When he began his undertaking he soon learned that hunting the buffalo hunter was entirely different from hunting the buffalo, and it was a work that two could engage in from opposite angles, at the same time, with the advantage greatly in favor of the buffalo hunter as he was always well armed, and an expert marksman; and in this particular they soon learned to have a high regard for Buffalo Bill. To such a degree did they come to admire him that they looked upon him as a being of a higher order, and not of the common clay. Things came to such a pa.s.s after some experience with the buffalo hunter, that the Indian never took any chances with him, but when the hunter pointed to a distant horizon, the aborigines usually followed the direction without further parley.

Prior to the time of which I write, the Quaker sect came into close touch with the Indian Department in Washington, D. C., and formed what was called the Indian Bureau. They urged the only sane and proper way to civilize the Indian was to educate him and teach him agriculture. General Hazen was placed at the head of the movement and a conference was called at Medicine Lodge, Kansas, which the Comanches, Kiowas, Cheyennes, and Arapahoes were invited to attend. General Harney presided, surrounded by reporters, interpreters and such other attendants as were required to lend dignity to a court of such magnitude. After several days of vexation and worry, they succeeded in formulating a treaty which was supposed to be signed by all the chiefs of those different tribes, by which they agreed, for certain considerations made and provided, to vacate all that country lying between the Platte and Arkansas Rivers and go southward to take up their permanent abode in what was then known as Indian Territory. The Comanches and Kiowas were located on Red River and in the vicinity of the Wichita mountains. The Arapahoes were located south of the North Canadian.

The Cheyennes were allotted the country along Pond Creek, in what was known as Cherokee strip. The Quakers were not slow to learn that they had made a fatal mistake in locating the Cheyennes so close to the state line of Kansas, as the State of Kansas at that time was not governed by prohibition laws and the bootlegger was abroad in the land, and unless some steps were taken very speedily it would be a question of only a short time before the bootlegger would have all the Indians' portable possessions over in the State of Kansas. I happen to be personally acquainted with a man who was engaged in that business and he told me that at one time he had traded a boot full of whiskey for nine head of ponies.

He had no jug and rather than lose the deal, he pulled off his boot and filled it from his keg and then started off with his ponies for Kansas.

The agent left in charge readily saw that such conditions could not hold out long. There were marshals who had been appointed to guard and protect the interests of the Indians, but some of them were in secret collusion with the bootlegger and received a share of the gain. As a consequence of this condition the agent decided to remove the Cheyennes southward to the North Canadian where a permanent agency was established and put under the control and management of Mr. Darling and even to this day is known as the Darlington Agency. A large portion of the Cheyenne tribe settled there and adopted the white man's way of farming. After they drew their allottments, the government employed white men to go among them and instruct them in the management of their affairs, and how to sow and cultivate their crops. Women were also sent as matrons among them to instruct the squaws in the art of fulfilling household and social duties.

Schools were built and teachers employed, and the advance they have made is really surprising.

The treaty of Medicine Lodge, it was hoped, would put an end to all hostilities between the Indians and the whites and bring about a settled condition of affairs, but such was not to be the case, for a large percent of the Cheyennes and a considerable portion of the Arapahoes became disgruntled and claimed they had not signed the treaty, and others claimed that the interpreters did not properly translate their wishes and said they were not going south to the Territory and would not comply with any of the requirements of the treaty, or, in other words, they were going to stay where they were, and go and come as they pleased regardless of the white man's feelings in the matter. The leaders of this discontented branch of the different tribes were Roman Nose, Black Kettle, Turkey Leg, and Dull Knife, with a few smaller chiefs. These bands of Indians kept roaming back and forth between the Platte River on the north and the Cimmaron River on the south and west to the Rocky Mountains, and at one time went eastward as far as Council Grove, Kansas, where the Kaw Indians, a peaceable tribe, were located. They raided them and after killing a few of them, ran off their stock and returned to their favorite hunting grounds.

This was kept up continually for years. Robbing stage coaches, killing freighters, raiding stock ranches, or murdering the frontier settlers seemed to be a favorite pastime with them. Ever since the treaty of Medicine Lodge, they kept growing bolder and more threatening. Brigadier General Sully who was in command at Fort Larned at that time, called their attention to the fact that there had to be a change in their att.i.tude toward the whites, or he would be compelled to take action against them.

When they received this notice a delegation of the leaders called on the General for a conference. They reported that all the mischief had been perpetrated by some young Indians that were dissatisfied with the treaty, and had acted entirely contrary to the wishes of their leaders. They begged him to supply them with ammunition and arms, and a.s.sured him that there would be no more trouble along that line. The foxy old bucks knew that they were lying and if the old general had been educated on the plains instead of a military academy, he would have known it too but he was one of those good-natured, easy-going old fogies who were much more intended to take charge of a Sunday school cla.s.s than of a branch of the army. At all events, after a good deal of palavering and soft-soaping the old general issued an order for the agent to turn over to them the firearms with the understanding that they should return to the reservation and behave themselves and commit no further depredations on any person; all of which they meekly agreed to perform. It was not 24 hours after receiving the arms until old Black Kettle with a few of his confederates were making medicine on the p.a.w.nee and Walnut Creeks. The band started north to the Saline River and commenced the most atrocious murders, rapes, and other acts too abominable to be placed in print. They did not stop there to complete their work of plunder and pillage, but hastened on until they reached the Solomon river where their villanous and blood-thirsty designs were carried out in full force and effect. They murdered about fifteen farmers and two women, and committed other depredations and horrors too hideous to repeat here. They carried off all the stock they could find, besides taking away two little girls who were never heard of afterwards. On their return to the Saline River they started in to complete the work of destruction they had only partly accomplished on their way to the Solomon. By this time the farmers had congregated at a farm house and were making ready to fight them when they should arrive.

They did not have long to wait, for they were hardly inside the farm house when the Indians appeared and began their pow-wow and war cry and firing into the dwelling. Just about the time they were getting under headway with the work of pillage and plunder, Captain Benteen heard the firing and came to the rescue of the settlers. He had heard at Fort Zarah that the Indians were on the war-path and how they had treated two women who were afterwards taken to the fort for care and protection after their bitter experience with the n.o.ble red Man. He started out with a troop of cavalry and reached the besieged just in time to save them from the horrors which they would be compelled to face if captured. There were 200 Cheyennes on that raid and when Captain Benteen appeared on the scene, they scattered like a flock of quail. These Indians drifted back in the direction whence they had come and remained a short while with the Black Kettle band on the Walnut and finally crossed the Arkansas and went southward toward the Cimmaron River.

The old brigadier general had by this time awakened from his lethargy and found that he had been out-generalled by the Indians. He decided to take immediate steps to punish them for their treachery and deception. There was a large body of Indians operating between the Arkansas and Cimmaron, and Brigadier General Sully concluded to go out and give them a good thrashing to settle accounts for their past treachery and misdeeds. These Indians were a mixed body of different tribes and seemed as anxious to meet the general as he was to meet them. After three different engagements in which the general was defeated, he was compelled to return to Fort Dodge to avoid being captured by them.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Sheridan's Arrival; Kansas Volunteers' Disasterous March; Sheridan's Activity; Custer's Engagement With the Indians, Etc.

About this time General Phil. H. Sheridan made his appearance in the Indian country, bringing some additional soldiers under the command of General Custer. He also asked for a regiment of Kansas volunteers. His request was granted and the recruits were placed under the command of Colonel Crawford with orders to meet General Sheridan at the junction of Wolf and Beaver Creeks, or what is now known as Camp Supply.

When the regiment had been enrolled and the men were ready and anxious to make the journey, General Sheridan, in order to facilitate matters and avoid any disappointment, sent two guides to pilot the new recruits to their destination. It was now getting late in the year and each day brought its quota of snow, rain, or sleet, but in spite of such unfavorable conditions, the boys made no complaint, but rode patiently along their tedious journey. After they had been out a few days the colonel seemed to grow impatient and irritable, and began to dictate to the guides and volunteered his advice as to the direction they should pursue. He wanted to turn to the left and cross the Cimmaron River and insisted on his idea to such a degree that the guides, or scouts, withdrew their services then and there and left him to select when and where he would elect to ford the river. The weather being stormy the Colonel lost his way and through his impatience finally lost his head and did not know where he was. The brakes and canyons on the north side of the river were filled with snow that had drifted in from the prairie. In his desperation he started to cross the stream and spent several days floundering around through the s...o...b..nks and drifts. After he succeeded in crossing the river he found it as hard to get out of the difficulty as it was to get into it.

To add to his misfortune, he had neglected to bring along sufficient food for horses or men. However, he succeeded in getting out and up on the flats south of the river at the expense of a great number of horses, but was fortunate enough not to lose a single man. The situation was not improved in any measure as he did not know where he was. He continued southward until he reached the North Canadian River. Here his remaining horses kept themselves alive by browsing in the timber while the men were compelled to live on what hackberries they could find.

As Colonel Crawford did not arrive at the expected time, nor for several days afterward, General Sheridan became anxious for his safety and sent out scouts to see if any trace of him could be found. With much risk and effort they found the colonel and what was left of his cavalry about twenty miles below the designated place of meeting. To say they were in a deplorable condition, would be putting it mildly. The moment General Sheridan received word of the disaster that had befallen Colonel Crawford's command, he sent out men and teams to their relief with instructions to bring them into camp. The relief party did not arrive any too soon as the men and horses were in a very sorry plight, owing to their lack of nourishing food. One thing alone was in their favor in their present deplorable condition and that was the abundant supply of dead timber at hand which afforded them an opportunity to keep warm, or rather keep from freezing, a thing which was entirely lacking on the Cimmaron. I may as well say that they were all afoot by this time, as the horses that were still alive, were reduced to such a state of weakness that they were unable to carry their riders. It took two days to get them into camp, owing to their enfeebled condition. General Sheridan's headquarters was then located on the north bank of the North Canadian river about four or five miles south east of where the present city of Woodward, Okla., is situated. On the departure of the command from Topeka the newspapers in flaming headlines announced the affair to the world, but their great expectations were converted into "Crawford's Calamity."

In the face of all this vexatious delay, awaiting re-enforcements from Colonel Crawford, General Sheridan did not relax his energy in the least.

He kept everybody at work fixing up a base of supplies that would be in his reach until the termination of that campaign which he intended to settle during the winter months whilst the Indian ponies were poor and weak and unable to transport belongings any distance. He also knew that if he delayed matters until warm weather when there would be plenty of gra.s.s, he would have to fight those Indians from the British possessions to Texas. He was down there to fight those Indians or make them return to their reservations to remain there and behave themselves and stop prowling all over the country committing depredations. He had no time to engage in peace treaties and had no guns to turn over to them, and there was no chance for any trickery or treachery with him. He did not want to smoke the pipe of peace with them and then be shot in the back and killed as Turkey Legs and his band did with his scouts Comstock and Glover. He was there for permanent peace or a permanent fight and the choice rested with them. There was no swapping of horses or palavering. He meant business.

By this time General Sheridan's headquarters very much resembled a Canadian North-west logging camp. Everybody was kept busy, some hauling logs, others digging trenches for the stockades, others were bringing poles and brush to cover rude pole sheds for the purpose of affording a temporary shelter for the stock. If there was anybody idle, it was some one who was too ill to work, or who had hidden in the brush to avoid work.

The scouts were kept busy scouring the country in search of some trail or sign of the Indians and finally were rewarded by the discovery of a trail leading southward, which showed a large body of Indians had gone in that direction. On receiving that information General Custer asked permission from General Sheridan to fit out an expedition to follow them. The request was readily granted by General Sheridan, as he was anxious to bring the campaign to a close as speedily as possible. As soon as Custer had his troops in proper shape he set out in the direction indicated by the scouts. After crossing Wolf Creek and getting well up on the divide he discovered the trail, but found it very difficult to follow owing to the snow having drifted and covered any marks they had left behind them.

Occasionally, where the wind had blown the snow from some high place he found all evidence required to justify him in keeping up the pursuit. He maintained his route until he reached the north brakes of the South Canadian and went into camp for the night in the least protected place he could find and made things as comfortable as circ.u.mstances would permit.

Next morning after taking a survey of the situation he found himself confronted with a great and dangerous undertaking through having to ford the river. As every man who has ever crossed it with a loaded wagon knows, it is one of the most treacherous streams to ford, in the Southwest; and to add to the miry condition of the river it was frozen over, but the ice was not of sufficient thickness to bear the weight of the horses, much less the heavy wagons that were to follow them. General Custer, a persevering and an energetic man, was not daunted by this present difficulty. He sloped down the bank of the river and set his men to work cutting a channel across and clearing the ice from it, so that it would not cut or injure the stock in crossing. After pa.s.sing the cavalry back and forth several times to settle the quicksand, he sent forward the freight and supply wagons and with great difficulty succeeded in landing on the south side. Here he stopped for dinner as it was after twelve o'clock when the last wagon pa.s.sed up the bank. After dinner they hooked up and started on their perilous under taking of climbing and winding their dangerous way through the canyons and sand hills until they reached the flats that divide the South Canadian and Was.h.i.ta Rivers. The distance traveled that afternoon was not very great but the difficulties and obstacles to be overcome were very trying. The general decided to have an early supper and after a consultation with his officers determined to make a night drive as the moon shone brightly and the trail was now becoming so plain that the scouts felt there would be no difficulty in following it.

Accordingly they hitched up after their slight rest and set out under the leadership of two Osage Indian scouts together with California Joe, a white man who had been on the frontier all his life and who understood the language of the different tribes. Custer had learned from his scouts that it was the intention of the Indians to go into winter quarters on the Was.h.i.ta, but was not certain of the exact locality. Consequently he had to use great caution in trying to discover their where abouts. He found some smouldering campfires, which showed that they were not very far in advance. The scouts did not proceed very much farther until one of them on looking over a bluff discovered the main camp and then hastened back and made the fact known to the general. Custer then and there stopped the outfit and went into consultation with his officers. It was now past twelve o'clock and he decided to make no attack until after daybreak. He arranged to divide his force into four different sections, each squad to be under the command of an officer, and at daylight, at the sound of the bugle, they were to make a charge. All was carried out as planned, with the precision of clockwork. At dawn the bugle sounded and the band struck up the tune of "Garry Owen" and the troops dashed in on the gallop. When they reached the camp from the different directions, the battle began. At the first volley fired, the Indians tried to escape, and some of them, succeeded in getting away, but the most of them, were shot down, either in their teepees, or as they were fleeing to some place of safety; others dropped behind trees or logs and fought like demons, but it was useless as they were overmatched. When the smoke of battle cleared away there were over one hundred dead Indians lying on the camp ground.

It was General Sherman, I believe, who said "war is h.e.l.l," a statement which, proved to be absolutely correct in this instance for the wailing of the squaws and the screaming of the papooses together with the groans of the dying made a wierd accompaniment to the cracking of rifles and the commands of the officers. After the flurry of the battle had somewhat subsided, Custer ordered all that were alive, squaws and papooses, to be taken prisoners and put in charge of a squad of soldiers, whilst the remainder busied themselves burning the teepees, provisions, and other camp equipage found there. When the work of destruction was completed he ordered all their ponies, about two hundred in number, to be brought in and shot. To the reader this may appear cruel and inhuman, but it was only a just retribution for the deeds this same band had committed on the Saline and Solomon Rivers in Kansas, where they spared neither age nor s.e.x, but perpetrated outrages on women that are too beastly for publication, and this was a small installment on what was due them. On roll call it was found that Major Elliot and fifteen men were missing.

The Kiowas and the Comanche tribes were camped but three or four miles below where the battle took place, and it did not take them very long to make their appearance about five or six thousand strong. Here was a fresh problem for Custer to solve. If he was looking for a fight with the Indians, they were at hand. Why did he not attack them? Why did they not attack him? Why did not Custer make an effort to find out what had become of Major Elliot and the fifteen missing men who had been with him. I shall explain that as I see it from my point of view. There is no doubt in my mind that General Custer was afraid to attack those two tribes, and was also afraid to make an attempt to find Major Elliot and his companions, as his conduct that evening abundantly proves. He had sent his scout, California Joe, with a dispatch telling Sheridan of his condition and asking him to send re-enforcements at once. That afternoon he held a consultation with his officers and decided to return to Camp Supply to reorganize his men and get more forces to engage in battle with those two tribes. Now the question might be asked, why did not the Indians attack him? There was but one reason and that was that they were afraid. They had force enough to defeat Custer, but there was something else to take into consideration. They knew General Sheridan was someplace in the country and was, perhaps, at that time waiting to catch them in a trap. They were not afraid of Custer and his command, but they knew that if Sheridan ever got them in a tight place, it would be good-bye, Mr. Indian, for there would be nothing left of him. It was a plain case of where Custer was afraid and the other 'da.s.sent,' it averted, as a result, one of the worst slaughters that ever occured in the Indian Territory.

In looking over the dead, Chief Black Kettle was identified. He had been instrumental in starting out the band that had committed all the depredations in the Saline and Solomon valleys, and but a few months prior to this time had defiantly refused, when asked by General Sheridan to come into Fort Dodge with the promise that he would be properly cared for. He declared that he was going on the warpath and made good his declaration as the battle on the Was.h.i.ta will show.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Sheridan's Camp; Discovery of Elliot and Companions; A Truce; Capture of Comanches and Kiowas Return to Camp.

The night of the battle, Custer started for Camp Supply and very nearly overtook his scout, California Joe, as the latter had to hide so much on the way to avoid being caught by the Indians; and I believe that Custer made a record trip, as he was afraid of the same thing. When he returned and Major Elliot's absence was not satisfactorily explained, General Sheridan showed great dissatisfaction. He issued an order to get everything in readiness at once and decided to take a hand in that business himself to see if he could not discover what had become of Elliot. The Kansas volunteers having lost most of their horses in the snow banks on the Cimmaron River, with the remainder unfit for service, were organized as infantry and taken along. In fact, every available man was taken from Camp Supply except those who were required to guard the provisions and look after the stock. Although Sheridan was a graduate of West Point, he never enc.u.mbered himself with any West Point tactics in fighting Indians. He just put on his fighting clothes and set out to whip them into subjection regardless of any military parade, and usually accomplished what he set out to do. There was one feature of all his expeditions which he never neglected, and that was that he never failed to keep in touch with the best and most reliable scouts and guides to be found, and once he had secured them he never failed to be governed by their instructions, as he was well aware that such men understood the topography of the country much better than some t.i.tled professor of a military academy. Such scouts he found on this occasion. He took along as his guide and chief of scouts, one Ben Clark, because Ben was married into the Cheyenne tribe and understood and spoke the tribal languages fluently.

He also took along California Joe, as he was a good scout and was familiar with all the customs and habits of the Indians, having lived and dealt with them all the way from California to Texas. He was invaluable as a scout and guide, but had one fault, of which I shall speak later on, that tried the patience of the general sorely at times, but still Sheridan could not afford to part with him. Those two, with the addition to two Osage Indian scouts, were all that he brought into service. When everything was in readiness the general set out with the firm determination to settle the Indian trouble for once and for all time to come, if possible. He took General Custer with him, as he was familiar with the route and also with the locality of the recent battle. He took as his ambulance driver Johnny Murphy, a lad scarcely out of his teens and who acted in that capacity until the close of the campaign. The first night out they camped on the south bank of Wolf Creek where they found an abundance of timber and living water, two essentials at that time as the weather was hovering around the zero mark. The men were becoming accustomed to the cold and stood up in it like Esquimaux. Next morning they were up and away to cross the divide to the South Canadian. The snow was still quite deep on the flats and the moisture had softened the soil which had not frozen sufficiently to hold up the heavy freight wagons, which made it a tedious and toilsome trip to reach the river. Clark being acquainted with the country guided them down a canyon where they found timber and a fair shelter. There they went into camp for the night. Next morning one of the real trials of the journey confronted them. The river had to be forded and they were forced to repeat the labors that Custer had performed on the former occasion and as the ice was not thick enough to bear a heavy weight. They had to cut a channel and remove the ice from it and trample the quicksand with the cavalry to make it fordable for the wagons. They accomplished the crossing with a great deal of difficulty and hardships, as most of them were wet from trampeling through the stream or a.s.sisting the lumbering wagons on their way. When the last team had crossed they were glad to know that this difficulty had been overcome.