The Awakening Of The Desert Part 5

At night the mosquitoes proved themselves to be the most ferocious and blood-thirsty creatures we had as yet encountered. Hoping to secure some immunity from their attacks, a few of us decided to sleep in the tent and in it start a dense smudge produced by some coa.r.s.e, semi-combustible material, on the generally accepted theory that those insects could be driven out by smoke. While this process was going on, we sat outside on the smoky side of the camp, hoping there to obtain some relief. As additional protection, the smokers lighted their pipes and cigars in the confident belief that their troubles were over for a time; but when we counted five large, long-legged mosquitoes perched serenely upon a single lighted cigar, in addition to the uncounted insects encamped on the face of the smoker, we concluded that the smoke habit was not offensive to those impertinent marauding pests. On lying down in our tent we were suffocated with the smoke, the only chance for respiration being to put our noses out from under the canvas, where they became instant centers of attack from fresh invaders. There was little sleep to be had that night, and we determined that, in the future, we should camp on higher lands back from the river, whenever it was practicable.

At this post, as at Kearney, a reorganization of trains had to be made.

As ill.u.s.trating the average composition of these trains, from the records made at the post, we found that there preceded us in one day, three trains equipped as follows:

Captain J. S. Miller, 42 men, 3 women, 7 children, 33 oxen, 25 revolvers, 15 guns. Destination, Denver.

Captain Harmon Kish, 30 men, 20 ox wagons, 8 guns, 23 revolvers.

Destination, Denver.

Captain S. M. Scott, 34 men, 32 wagons, 34 revolvers, 20 guns.

Destination, Salt Lake City.

This number of trains in one day was doubtless above the average.

As the result of a conference, Dr. Brown with his family had dropped behind us with another train that would afford better protection. Having been a.s.signed to the convoy of a large outfit, we moved out with it on the following day, but quickly separated from it and camped twelve miles distant in the bluffs beyond and overlooking the ranch of the redoubtable Jack Morrow, concerning whom we had heard many remarkable tales. He had been reported as an occasional visitor to the river towns, which he painted a vivid red after he had taken sufficient booze to bedim his usually clear judgment. We had been informed in Nebraska City that when on his recreation visits to the river towns he frequently indulged in the pastime of lighting his cigar with a bank note,--and no one dared to interfere! If his history were truly written it would be made up largely of thrills.

All except Pete and the Deacon went down to the ranch rather early, to spend the evening with Jack and his a.s.sociates. The establishment was the most extensive that we saw on all our travels, and consisted in part of a large, two-story building, well constructed of logs. Entering the large room, which was the business part of the ranch, we observed that it was well stocked with staple goods adapted to the requirements of emigrants and for barter with the Indians. A few saddles were suspended by their stirrups from pegs driven in the logs that formed the side walls of the apartment. Behind a solid rough counter were barrels of sugar and other groceries. On the shelves were articles of clothing of coa.r.s.e material, also piles of moccasins, and upon the floor a pile of furs, doubtless received in trade with the Indians.

The heavy log beams that supported the low second floor were exposed, and from over the counter and near the side of the room there hung from the beams a mult.i.tude of articles, all for sale or exchange. Half a dozen men were lounging in the room, and one of Morrow's a.s.sistants was sitting upon the wide lower shelf with his feet upon the counter. As no traders were in the store, there was a free and easy "nothing doing"

atmosphere pervading the establishment.

Soon after our arrival, Jack entered the room from a side door. On his first appearance he impressed us with the conviction that he was a man of more than ordinary power; and the effect of his entry upon all who were in the room indicated that he was a leader of men. His striking personality would attract attention in any company. His nose, which was strongly prominent, was decidedly aquiline; his eyes were small and bright; and a face is rarely seen that would so quickly suggest that of an eagle. Comporting perfectly with the quick and penetrating glance of his eyes, his athletic frame seemed to be closely knit; he was vigorous and alert. He wore a negligee shirt, a soft hat and, strapped to his waist, a brace of revolvers. He observed us immediately on entering the room, and coming at once to where we were standing in a group he entered into conversation, freely answering our many questions. Later in the evening, after having been called away for a time, he returned, and having asked us to be seated he was led to relate many interesting incidents connected with his western life.

During Jack's absence, Dan and I took a seat in another part of the room beside a man who had recently entered, and who, I learned, was an _attache_ of the ranch. In the course of conversation, he described in these words a recent event which had occurred on the ranch.

"One afternoon a few weeks ago, while Jack and I were here alone, a band of hot-headed Sioux crowded into the ranch here to clean it out, as they have done at some time with almost every ranch on the Platte. I reckon they had got too much whiskey somewhere. Anyhow, you see there's lots of things in the store, and they wanted to get what they could before they burned the building. Jack saw just what was coming, and backed up against that wall over there, and I went and stood with him, and he was as cool as a cuc.u.mber. I was just waiting to see what he would do, for we had our guns all right.

"Their chief and two of the older Indians who knew Jack better than the young bucks did, were up pretty close to us. The chief told the bucks to let the stuff alone. One of them said he had sworn by his fathers that he would take anything he wanted. I understood what he said, you know, and then the redskins began to load up with stuff. At this, the chief in a flash drew his bow to the arrow's head and quicker than lightning the arrow point was stuck deep into the Indian's side, and he dropped on the floor in a chunk. The chief said to the young bucks, 'Take him away, for have I not said it?' They took the body out and Jack hasn't been troubled any more. But if their chief hadn't stopped the business just then, there would have been carca.s.ses for more than one Indian funeral, for both Jack and me had a gun in each hand when we were backed against that wall. You know, when they come in such crowds they scare lots of these fellows, but they can't scare Jack if he has any sort of a chance, and he is a great shot and never gets rattled. He's always ready for a fight, and he has had lots of 'em."

We were informed by one of the loungers in the ranch that Jack was living with two Indian wives who were then in the building. This statement was confirmed by freighters whom we saw later. His brother, who had an Indian wife, was a.s.sociated with him in business. We were not disposed to question the rancher concerning so trifling a matter as that of his domestic relations. It would be thoroughly consistent for so eminent an Indian-American diplomat to adopt the most advanced customs of the distinguished heads of the tribes with whom he usually preserved pleasant relations (for Jack, being familiar with the language of some of the tribes, had served the Government as an interpreter in Indian treaties). Polygamy was common among the chiefs of many western tribes.

Both Parkman and Catlin cite numerous cases of plurality of wives which came under their observation among the Indians. They also mention instances in which wives were sold, the almost universal price being a horse, a highly cherished possession among the savages. The stealing of wives is also mentioned in old writings concerning the tribes. A trapper stated to us that any Indian might steal a squaw, and if he chose afterwards to make an adequate present to her rightful proprietor, then the easy husband, to quote the language exactly, "for the most part fell asleep." Parkman refers to Mahto Tatonka who, out of several dozen squaws whom he had stolen, could boast that he had never paid for one, but snapping his fingers in the face of the injured husband had defied the extremity of his indignation; and no one had dared to lay the finger of violence upon him. Men of the West say that an arrow shot from a ravine, or a stab in the dark, an act which demands no great valor, and is especially suited to the Indian genius, has often proved the sequel to the stealing of a squaw. The theft of a horse, I really believe, is regarded as a graver offense.

It was my good fortune to learn from Jack Morrow some facts concerning my former friend and schoolmate, Billy Comstock. Comstock, well-known on the plains as "Buffalo Bill," was descended from excellent stock. He was born in Comstock, Michigan, a town that was named in honor of his father. As a boy I remember him as being almost as dark in complexion as an Indian, and with hair as black as a raven. He was slender, but firmly built, and was a successful sprinter, having great endurance. His temperament well-fitted him for a roving life, and when but a youth he was on the plains. He was on the mount of the first pony express to Pike's Peak, which started on April 4, 1859, and shared the thrilling experiences of the daring young men who on their flying steeds transported the mails through the Indian country. They exchanged their horses at frequent intervals, usually vaulting from one saddle to that of a fresh horse held in waiting. As he had become familiar with the Indian dialects, Comstock's services as interpreter were frequently secured by the Government. He had his headquarters at Jack Morrow's ranch a considerable part of the time during the years 1864 and 1865.

Two years after our visit to Jack Morrow, (to be more exact, in the year 1868), Comstock was reported to have been killed by the Indians about fifty miles northeast of Sheridan, Kansas. Later information indicated that he was killed by Sharp Grover, a noted scout. Grover was in turn killed in a row at Pond City, near Fort Wallace. These facts were confirmed in a later interview with William F. Cody. Cody, who was a close personal friend of Comstock, but somewhat younger, was also a frequent guest at the Jack Morrow ranch. The two were among the distinguished characters on the plains.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GRIZZLY BEAR]

Cody received his _sobriquet_ "Buffalo Bill" as the result of a contest with Billy Comstock. It happened that a short time prior to the death of the latter, while the work on the Pacific Railroad was being pushed in Kansas, the superintendent of construction was dependent largely on the buffalo for meat for the workmen. Some of the hunters failed to furnish the required quant.i.ty. This condition resulted in putting these two famous men into compet.i.tion. The number killed by each in the time agreed has been given to the writer by one of the contestants. Suffice it to state that William F. Cody secured the championship, wresting the t.i.tle from Comstock, and has since been known as Buffalo Bill. Cody has been the guide for princes and presidents on hunting and other expeditions through the far West, and with his Wild West Show, so well known throughout America, he has appeared before the crowned heads of many European countries. Not long ago the writer discovered him in Rome, where Cody introduced the Italian King and a royal party to the types of western life which he succeeded so well in presenting.

Cody was born in Scott County, Iowa, in 1845. He was started on his public career by Colonel Judson, better known as Ned Buntline, a writer of sensational stories. One of Ned Buntline's stories has been dramatized under the t.i.tle of "Buffalo Bill, the King of Border Men."

While at the Junction house we learned from Morrow that a large band of Sioux was reported to have come down recently from the North to a point on the river twenty-seven miles farther West; and from information received concerning their conduct Jack was of the opinion that trouble was brewing. Returning to our camp we quickly secured our blankets and slept upon the open ground. The air was so dry, clear, and exhilarating that even Fred's little tent was not pitched. At about midnight Pete, who was on guard, quietly crept to where Paul and I were sleeping, and gently arousing us, whispered that he had discovered figures moving round in the shadows, and at one time saw them distinctly as they pa.s.sed over the hill. It was at once decided that we should quietly inform our men, and then ascertain who were the interlopers. Pete had been unable by the faint light of the stars to determine whether they were Indians or whites.

The stealing of stock was a common pursuit of many men of both races, and the fact that these intruders were lurking in the valley led us to conclude that the visitors were thieves. We silently separated, and by prearrangement secured our rifles; in twos we noiselessly circled the valley, and like a net gradually closed in to the center.

Two skulking men were evidently surprised when an equal number of our party confronted them and shouted a signal to the other boys to close in. The intruders were thus corralled almost before they were aware that they were discovered.

"What the devil are you after, creeping around our camp at this time of night?" said Pete sternly to the strangers, and at the same time he snapped the c.o.c.k of his gun. With a stammering voice one replied that they were hunting for stock. "Whose stock are you hunting?" was asked with considerable vehemence. The stragglers both swore that they had lost some stock which they were trying to find. Our boys had closed in upon the captives, who, doubtless knowing the unwritten law of the plains, became manifestly uncomfortable.

They protested so fervently and made so many contradictory statements that we were convinced of their guilty intentions. Dan, with vigorous tones, informed them that if they believed that any stock which they might have missed had become mixed with our horses, they should not unnecessarily hazard their lives by endeavoring to secure their property by stealth at midnight, because stragglers, who should invade and lurk around an isolated camp in that country at that hour were liable to be shot at sight, as a precautionary measure. In the general clamor there were other similar arguments presented. We finally conducted the suspects to our camp for further examination, where by the light of a lantern we found them to be well armed. Their guns were temporarily placed in Paul's custody. The flickering glare of the lamps also revealed their features and dress, and if they were not thieves they certainly had all the prevailing symptoms.

It devolved upon us to hold a council and pa.s.s upon the prisoners. Our form of procedure was not restricted by any established code. The burden of evidence seemed to be so overwhelming against the accused that the majority promptly decided in favor of the usual punishment for western horse thieves. Deacon Cobb, however, argued for a commutation of the sentence: he urged that the suspects should report forthwith at Jack Morrow's ranch, should rouse him from his slumbers, and return with his certificate of their good character. They were reinvested with their guns, having a.s.sured us that they would conform to the terms, and on Pete's report that none of our horses were missing, were allowed to start on their mission; as was expected they were seen by us no more.

At day-break on the following morning while our breakfast was being prepared, Dan and I were on a bluff watching the glorious sunrise.

Before us was the junction of the North and South branches of the Platte River. The course of those streams could be followed far to the west, and the main channel, which we had been following, was glistening in the east. Near the junction, and far below us, was Jack's ranch, visited the previous night, and also known as the Junction House,--but Jack had a wider reputation than the forks of the Platte.

We observed that the river valley had gradually narrowed and that the bluffs were nearer to the stream than they were further east. As we were surveying the beautiful scenery, we were suddenly startled by the music of a bra.s.s band coming from behind a spur of the bluffs in the west. The booming of cannon could not have been a greater surprise to us. Changing our position to another spur in the hills, we discovered a regiment of cavalry, which we learned later was the 11th Ohio. It was preceded by a long mule train transporting baggage and some invalids. This was followed by the mounted officers, who immediately preceded the band wagon. The cavalry moved along further behind with little regard for order. In the rear were about fifty Indians mounted on horses, riding rapidly back and forth, as if to give an exhibition of their superior horsemanship.

Possibly, like children they were attracted by curiosity; more probably, however, as we concluded later, they were following to create the impression that all was serene with the Indians; and they were undoubtedly pleased to see the troops moving eastward from their country, and desired to report their progress to their chiefs, whose lodges were not far away in the northwest. We learned that the cavalry was on its way home, to be discharged. The band was playing for the special entertainment of Jack Morrow, and continued from time to time until it reached his ranch. Jack would be sure to open something attractive for the entertainment of the whole party. Before the troops or the Indians left Jack's ranch we were again on the trail, rolling westward.

CHAPTER IX

MEN OF THE WESTERN TWILIGHT

Jack Morrow's ranch was left far behind us before the sun appeared above the hills, for we had made an early start, as had been our recent practice, so that we might rest during the heat of the early afternoon.

On the following morning we were on O'Fallon's bluff, so named in memory of Benjamin O'Fallon, of St. Louis, who was killed there by Indians.

Topographical surveys give the elevation of the valley below the bluffs as 3,012 feet above sea level, or about 2,000 feet above Omaha. These surveys also show the bed of the Platte River to average about 300 feet higher than the Republican River at the South, and parallel streams at the North, at the various points in the same longitude West. O'Fallon's bluff, however, is not a commanding eminence, but seems to be nothing more than a good-sized, irregularly shaped sand dune.

As we were dragging along the sandy road we observed approaching us four somewhat excited men, who with a two-mule team, were hastening eastward.

Three of them, two of whom were bareheaded, were walking up the grade as rapidly as possible, while the driver on the wagon, although urging his mules forward, seemed unable to press them into a gait faster than a walk, because of the heavy road and the ascending grade. When they halted at our side, the mules and the walkers were wet with perspiration. We also stopped, and leaving our horses, gathered round the strangers, as it was evident that they had something to communicate.

As soon as they had recovered enough breath after their arduous climb to talk coherently, one of them, to quote his own words, informed us that the Indians were raising the devil up the river only a few miles away, and that some of the savages were moving eastward. Another e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed that seven hundred Ogallala Sioux had camped on an island near Baker's ranch, and that the ranch was invaded and would probably be destroyed.

They urged us to turn back until we could get a strong escort. Each had some item of information and word of counsel.

Having obtained all possible particulars concerning the situation, we found ourselves very much in the frame of mind of the average small boy, who, learning that a fight is on around the corner, is disposed to rush immediately to the center of disturbance. We had no definite knowledge concerning the whereabouts of other trains moving westward, with one of which, according to Government orders, we ought perhaps to have been traveling. There certainly was no wagon in sight between us and the place where the white sandy trail curved up the slopes of the bluffs beyond and was lost to sight some miles westward.

We threshed out the matter thoroughly in the presence of our new friends, and all members of our party were more and more inclined to press forward as rapidly as possible, fearing we might fail to witness something that might be of interest; and all this directly against valuable advice given in the Book of Proverbs. When we thanked the gentlemen and bade them good-bye, they wished us good luck and a safe trip, and as a final admonition urged us to be on our guard.

Pa.s.sing over the western extremity of the bluffs, where the trail begins to descend again into the Platte valley, our train came into view of the little house well known as Baker's ranch. Beyond it flowed the muddy Platte, the channel of which could be traced many miles of its course.

It then appeared to the eye as if divided into many channels, which formed numerous islands or sand bars. Many of these islands in the Platte are almost as unstable as the ancient Delos, or as the waters that sweep over them in flood time, appearing in one place today, in another tomorrow, because the quicksands are always rolling and shifting under the action of the swift current. On the other hand, the clayey formation in the valley of the lower Platte, termed loess by geologists, seems throughout that course of the river to a.s.sume a crystalline form; and as the stream washes away its sh.o.r.es, it carves out many perpendicular banks having the columnar form of basaltic cliffs, but of a neutral red color.

As from the hills we looked with our field gla.s.s to a point beyond the ranch, we observed, and perhaps for the first time along the river, a bank that was low and easily fordable, for we saw two mounted Indians rapidly enter the stream and ride through it to a large island, which like an oasis in the desert was well covered with verdure. Upon the island was an Indian village; and beyond the island, and beyond the further channel of the sparkling river, the brown plain gradually sloped upward to the table-lands at the North.

Cl.u.s.tered rather closely together upon the island, and standing out clearly in the bright sunlight, were seventy white circular lodges, each tapering gracefully to a point, and appearing from far away like a crest of fringe; at the top of each lodge, were the lodge poles, with their small ends crossed at the apex. Around and among the tents, was a scene of animation in which warriors, squaws, and children confusedly intermingled like a legion of busy red ants in a city of ant hills, each forming a moving dot of bright color. All this striking and beautiful scene, as more clearly discerned through the field gla.s.s, resembled rather a motion picture than a scene in real life, for not a sound reached us through the still air from that cl.u.s.ter of Indian tepees. As the Sioux lodges average about ten occupants each, it appeared safe to estimate the population of the village at about 700. They were men of the western twilight, as fantastically named by Karl G. Carus.

Having surveyed rather carefully the general landscape, our party proceeded observantly until we lined up in front of Baker's ranch. We, who were on horseback, alighted, and pa.s.sing unmolested by a dozen athletic red warriors, we entered the open door. To our surprise we found the floor nearly covered with Indians reclining in various postures. Stepping over two or three of these rec.u.mbent forms, an act that did not make them move a hair's breadth, we picked our way toward the corner of the room, where we met the valiant Lew Baker, then in the prime of his young manhood. The counter extended along the east side of the building, after the fashion of many country stores, and behind it stood its owner.

A little woman, the wife of Baker, was also seated behind the same counter near a window at the front of the room, somewhat protected and concealed by a desk upon that end of the counter, and was therefore not readily observed by persons entering. In her arms was their only child, Elma, then four months old. Baker introduced us to his wife, with whom I exchanged a few words. Johnny Baker, the famous crack shot and for many years a star feature as sharpshooter in Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, was a later scion of this stock. While careful not to betray any interest concerning the red visitors in the ranch, we embraced the first opportunity to obtain from Baker all information possible regarding the situation. We asked if he believed that any of the Indians present would understand our conversation. He gave it as his opinion that they would not, though as we all well understand, our manner and tone of voice might suggest much to them.

Baker, continuing, and turning his eyes toward the ceiling as if conversing on some general topic, said, "Those Indians you see lying around you on the floor, entered the room this morning almost at the break of day, taking very nearly their present positions on the floor, and not one of them since their arrival seems to have spoken a word; they have scarcely moved." Nor had there been any expressions upon any one of their faces, except the same unchanged sullenness that we could then observe. During our interview neither one of us appeared to notice the subjects of our conversation.

As is well known, there is a certain peculiar strain clearly marked in the character of most Indians of the warlike tribes. If they become offended, it is not their practice to remove their outer garments if they should happen to be wearing a blanket, and like an impetuous Irishman, at once rush to the front with clenched fists, or like a volatile Frenchman, pour out a volley of sacres, to indicate their self confidence, nor are apologies considered an adequate satisfaction for any injury. They are not loquacious at any time. They are more disposed to nourish their wrath in silence and like a sulky child refuse to communicate with their enemy, until the opportunity comes when they may strike an unexpected blow under conditions favorable to themselves. The Sioux, indeed, at the time of which we are writing, had ample grounds for resentment, and although the ranch-man was powerless to right their wrongs, they regarded all whites as common parties to the controversy yet unsettled. Baker well understood their temper, but did not know when the storm might burst. He had placed his little wife and child where he could best shield them, relying chiefly upon himself for protection; his quick eye was ready at all times to detect the faintest hostile movement; and he declared himself determined to defend his little wife and baby to the utmost.

It was a remarkable feature of the demonstration that occurred while we were in Baker's ranch, that at intervals of but a few minutes one Indian after another, usually in pairs, silently entered the opened door, and with a soft, noiseless tread of moccasined feet, moved across the room, among or across the impa.s.sive warriors, who lay stretched out upon the floor apparently unnoticed, with whom as far as we could discern they exchanged no word or sign whatever. On reaching Baker, some offered a trifling article in exchange for others of much greater value, preferably for a side of bacon or a bag of flour, which were taken without comment, and the articles so taken were at once carried away. In some cases an Indian would actually take possession of a coveted article without any payment in return, and at once leave the building with the property; but during all this time the Red Men on the floor lay in silence, utterly indifferent to all that was taking place.