A Trip to California in 1853 Part 2

After getting across this desert stretch, we came to the banks of the Carson River, which we were to follow for many miles to the borders of California. When we reached Carson River, we came to a trader's pound, constructed of wagon tires and log chains. It was about the size of an ordinary city lot. There were tires lengthwise and crosswise, hind wheel tires, front wheel tires and log chains, bound together in all kinds of shapes. There were tons of steel in that fence. We came across another pound on the Carson River, near the Sierra Nevada Mountains, built of logs. The logs were 100 feet or over in length and had notches cut in them. These logs were placed in two rows and were crossed by small logs resting in the notches. It was built high enough so that stock could not jump over.

One night when we were afraid the Indians would come in on us, a double guard was put on duty. Four men stood guard in the fore part of the night and four in the after part. The eight men to do duty were all the men in my mess. Uncle said that the bacon was getting low and that he wanted some one of our mess, to get up early and help kill a beef. I told him to have some of the men in the other mess to help, as we would be on guard duty all night. Uncle said, "All right."

The men of my mess had killed all the beeves and mutton up to that time.

We did not care, nor did we think much about it, as one of our men was a butcher. The next morning uncle called for some one to get up and help him kill a beef. He called the second and third time, and no one got up and he said, "If no one will get up and help, you will do without meat."

Two of the men in my mess said, "If the other fellows will not help, we will."

I did not help as I was willing to do without meat rather than help after being on guard about all night. When I got up, I went over to the other camp to see what was the matter and why they would not help to kill the beef. They had all gone to look after the stock except John and Tom Brooks. Tom, the cook, did not have to help with the other work. I asked, "John, why did not you fellows get up this morning and help uncle?"

He looked at me, wrinkled up his face, swore and said as hateful as he could, "You will be a good deal prettier than you are, before I will help kill a beef."

"Johnny," I replied, "If you don't propose to do your part, you might get a dose you would not like so well."

I thought I would go back to my camp and say nothing more about it. I started off and had gone about a rod, when John said, "Now you go off to your own camp, or I will put Tom at you."

I turned around and looked at him and remarked, "You low lived insignificant scoundrel, you will put Tom at me?"

"Yes, and if you don't go to your own home, I will get at you," Tom cut in.

"You big necked, nigerfied, curly-headed villian, you will get at me?" I replied.

At that he came running toward me and as he came near, he ducked his head to b.u.t.t me in the stomach. When I saw that, I ran backwards a little to kill the shock and I reached down and caught him in the cheek, gave him a jerk, and he fell on his back. He fell near the hind wheel of a wagon. He pulled himself up by holding to the wheel and I got him by the throat and pushed him back between the wheel and the bed, and beat his face and head like he did poor Jim Greek and gave him some for Nailor and some for abusing aunt, and some for jumping on to me. When I got through, he had a plenty and the great fighter was badly whipped and he had not given me a scratch.

This was the first fight I had ever had and I found out afterwards that he had told the boys, that if any of his mess helped kill the beef, they would have had him to whip first. Aunt saw the commotion and called for me to come to their camp fire and get my breakfast. She said, "I am going to give you the best breakfast you ever had on the plains, for whipping that low lived, good for nothing, Tom Brooks."

I ate breakfast with aunt--was the best meal on the plains and the only time I had eaten with her. Tom Brooks behaved after that.

One morning we missed a cow out of the herd. Several of us went to find her. We hunted for quite a while and finally all came back to camp with the exception of my brother, Crawford Bailey and Wint Crumley. There was a willow thicket along the river and they got out of sight of us. They had found the trail of the cow and followed it. The camp had moved on down the trail while George Bailey had taken his gun and went on foot to kill an antelope. While hunting on the side of the trail, he was surprised to see Crawford and Wint running their horses around a bend in the river. He made for the trail just in time to catch one of the horses by the tail and by that means, kept up with the fleeing men. The Indians who were after them, tried to cut them off, but when they came in sight of the camp, they gave up the chase and disappeared. The two boys had followed the track of the cow into a willow thicket and they came across the Indians with a cow's hide stretched across poles, sc.r.a.pping it ready for tanning. The Indians saw them and gave chase, but the fleetness of the horses and George's lucky hold on the tail of the horse, saved their scalps.

A few nights after this incident, we had to drive late to get to where there was a good place to camp. It was dusk when we camped. We had to turn off to the right of the main trail and the river bent off to the north and I think it was a quarter of a mile from the main trail to where we camped. We had built our fires and were just ready to commence getting supper, when we heard the Indians begin holloing, "Show shony, show shony, humbugen, humbugen oss cawaw cawaw, cawowaw cawowaw cawowaw cawaw cawaw."

The first time they holloed this, uncle Joshua Bailey said, "There! We are going to be attacked. That is the war whoop. Put out the fires and corral the wagons."

The wagons were placed in a circle, running the tongues under each other so we could get inside and protect ourselves from their arrows as much as possible. When we got that done, which was in short order, he said, "All hands load your guns and your revolvers and have your knives ready."

We had been so long on the road that everybody had become careless. Some of the guns had not been used for a long time and were rusty and others had no bullets. Some had to prepare their guns, while others tried to run bullets. We had what we called ladles to melt lead in. They were made of wooden pieces split out of oak or some other kind of hard timber, four square, with one end hewed round for the handle, the other end, that is, the square end, had a hole cut down in with the corner of the ax. We would put lead in this ladle and put coals of fire in on the lead and blow the coals with our breath, and which would not make much light.

Joel Bailey, my cousin, had run off from home when a small boy, got on a steam boat at Ripley, Ohio, worked his pa.s.sage as dish washer, and had gone to Wisconsin, where my three uncles were. While there, Joel got acquainted with the Indians and their ways more than I did, but I had got pretty well acquainted by this time myself.

Aunt Susan Bailey was crying and talking to uncle and saying, "O, Bailey, why did you bring us all out here to be killed by the Indians."

"We had treaties and I did not think they would bother us," replied uncle.

Bellry Bailey, their eldest daughter, was of age, and Rachel Ann, the next daughter, was nearly of age, together with Aunt Susan and the rest of the little boys and girls of the camp were crying, and there in the utter darkness, it was hard to tell who were or were not crying.

Joel Bailey, I knew, was a coward when he was sober, but when under the influence of liquor, he was not afraid of anything. All at once he holloed out, "If any other man will go with me, we will go out and see what those fellows want."

I thought he was doing it for bluff, so I said, "I'll go with you."

"Well, go and equip yourself," answered Joel.

I replied, "What kind of equipment do you want me to have, a double barreled rifle, shotgun and a Colts revolver and a bowie-knife?"

We had some of the guns in order, having been used for hunting purposes and Joel and I knew it, but someone handed me a Colts revolver, for they knew I had only a single barreled pistol; another a combination gun, which had a rifle barrel and shot gun barrel on the same stock. Joel was equipped by the time I was. The Indians commenced holloing again, up the river behind us, where we had come just before camping. They would come down closer and then stop and hollo the same words. I will never forget them while I live.

We started out and the men began to beg us not to go, for they thought we would be killed. I informed them that I had promised to go and that I was going to go if Joel did not back out. The Indians by this time had located our camp and were holloing again. Uncle Joshua came outside the wagons, got one foot on the hub of the hind wheel, held to the bow of the wagon cover, and plead for us to come back and all fight and die together. Joel turned and told him with an oath, that if he didn't hush, he would shoot him, so uncle said no more. It was an awful dark night and one could not tell one another at all, only by bulk and that not more than a few feet from each other. We walked straight as we could toward the sound of the Indians' voices. We got out of the sound of the crying and lamenting at the camp and Joel said, "Wash, I want to tell you something. I have been drinking wine and my head is not exactly level and I will have to depend on you to do the guessing for me."

Later we heard voices and Joel whispered, "There are the chiefs giving the command and if we can get them, we can save the train, that is if we can get them before you hear the screech raise in the camp. But if you hear the screech raise in the camp before we get the chiefs, we will have to give leg bail for security, for we are all the ones that will get out alive."

"Where did you get your wine," I asked.

"In that wagon I am driving," said Joel. "Uncle Josh has a keg of wine in that wagon and if we can get those chiefs, you shall have wine to drink as long as that keg lasts."

I did not know there had been a bit of liquor of any kind in the train for over two thousand miles and I was puzzled to know what to do with a man under the influence of wine, whether to go back to camp or go on and try to take the chiefs. But I concluded to go ahead and try it, for Joel had said that the Indians would do nothing without their chiefs first giving the command.

The chiefs kept going on west and north, circling around our camp. Every time they would hollo, giving commands to their tribe, we would have to change our course and go more to our right in order to follow their voices, for that was all we had to go by, for a man could not see six feet to tell where they were. The chiefs got straight west of us down the river below our camp. I think fully a mile from our camp, and we could hear over a mile on a still night.

The chiefs stopped and remained in one place and holloed the same "Show shoney humbugen oss humbugen oss cawaw cawaw cawowaw cawowaw cawaw cawaw." I could tell by the sound of their voices, after I got pretty close to them, that they laid down every time they holloed. Joel had told me that when close enough and thought I could guess the distance, we must count our steps and walk right straight to the sound of their voices. When we had stepped to where I thought they were, for me to stop and he would hollo as loud as he could, "howdy doo."

"They can't keep their mouth shut and they will say 'howdy doo' too, then you show one of them how you do and I will show the other one how I do. Take him or die. Kill him if you have to take him dead, and I will take the other one or I'll die."

We stationed ourselves to where their voices sounded close to us, and when they holloed again, I whispered to Joel, "About fifty steps, Joel, for your life."

I don't believe I missed it two feet. Joel's head was level enough to count his steps right, for we both stopped at once. As we went along, Joel bore over toward me. I was taller than he. I kept holding him over to the left, for I thought he was trying to go too far to the right for the sound of their voices. When we got to where they were laying in the gra.s.s, they were several feet apart. We were between them.

"How do you do?" holloed Joel.

"Howdy doo," said the Indian at my right.

Joel jumped across in front of me, right onto the Indian, and said with a big word, "I'll show you how I do."

As Joel pa.s.sed in front of me, I looked quickly over to my left, for the voice I had been listening to. It sounded more to the left, when I saw something in the dark. I thought it might be the other Indian's head. I jumped toward it. When I lit, I could see the object more plainly and I made the second jump as far as I could and grabbed with my left hand. My fingers struck his head under the plat of his hair. He pulled and twisted, thrust his feet forward and threw his weight on my arm, but I jammed him up by the hair and told him if he made a move to hurt me, I would cut his heart out.

"O, Wash!" called Joel, "Have you got your'n?"

"Yes," I replied, "I've got him by the hair of his head, with my left hand behind his back, and my bowie-knife drawn on him, and if he makes a move to hurt me, I'll cut his heart out. Have you got yours?"

"I've got him in the same fix," was the reply.

As we talked, we were pushing toward each other, until I could see Joel and his Indian. I told Joel not to get too close, so that if they go to do anything, we wouldn't hurt each other.

When we neared the camp, uncle Joshua holloed, "Boys, have you got 'em?"

"Yes, we've got 'em," said Joel.

Uncle evidently did not hear and he yelled, "O, Wash, have you got 'em?"