Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains Part 30

About the first of June we made a break for the gold fields. We crossed the Arkansas river near Fountain ca-booyah (or something like that)--(Fountain qui Bouille, Boiling Fountain)--and did not go far from there until we struck a wagon road, which showed there had been much travel, and we could see that it had not been long since a wagon pa.s.sed.

We were very much surprised at a wagon road in this portion of country, but there it was just the same. We did not travel on this road very far until we overtook a large train of emigrants, and on making inquiry we learned that they were on their way to Pike's Peak.

Jim Bridger laughingly remarked: "If you are not careful you will pa.s.s Pike's Peak before you go there, for there is the mountain,"

pointing to the Peak, the foot of which we were just then pa.s.sing.

At this another man said: "We are going to Cherry creek to the mines. Do you know how far it is?"

I told him it was twenty miles to the head of Cherry creek. He then asked me how far it was to Denver. I told him I had never heard of any creek or river by that name in this country. "But,"

he said, "I mean Denver City." But Jim and I had never heard of the place. He said Denver City was on Cherry creek in the gold mines.

We pa.s.sed on, crossing the main divide between the Arkansas and the Platte rivers, striking the head of Cherry creek, then traveled down Cherry creek to the mouth, on a now well-beaten wagon road, the dust in places being six inches deep or more.

When we were within a mile of the mouth of Cherry creek I looked ahead, and for the first time I saw Denver, there being then as I supposed about fifty tents and campers' houses in the place. We stopped to take a look around and saw people coming in, every hour of the day, over the Platte and Arkansas river routes, and could see all kind of conveyances from a hand cart to a six-horse team.

While there I saw a number of carts come in drawn by men alone, all the way from two to eight men to the cart.

After stopping around Denver two days and taking in the sights, we pulled out for the mountains to a place called Gregory, about forty miles from Denver, where it was reported they were mining.

The mines were located on North Clear creek and there were only two claims being worked.

Gregory, the man that this little camp was named for, was working a claim and said he was taking out some gold, and a man by the name of Greene Russell was working another claim.

They were both old Georgia miners.

This man Russell told me how the excitement got started. He said that himself, Gregory and Dr. Russell, a brother of his, and three other men had come out there the fall before, and early that season had discovered gold on Cherry creek, and also a little on the mountain stream where they were then at work. Dr. Russell being a man of family, concluded to return to his home that fall.

He and the rest of the crowd cautioned him to say nothing about what they had struck, for they did not consider they had found anything to warrant an excitement and a stampede, as it was termed in mining parlance. The Doctor promised he would not mention it even to his most intimate friends. But it seems he did not keep his word, but commenced to spread the news as soon as he struck the settlements, telling wonderful stories of the gold around Pike's Peak, which set the people wild. They seemed to think there had been another California struck which caused a repet.i.tion of the stampede ten years before. During the winter the news spread all over the State and they came from every quarter.

Russell continued: "Now you can see the effect of it. If I had known my brother would have told such outrageous stories I would not have allowed him to go home." He said he thought there were a few claims outside of the ones they were working that would pay, but beyond that he did not think it would amount to anything.

After remaining here one week we concluded we had gold mining enough to last us some time, so we started back for the foot of the mountains, and the first night we camped at the place where Golden now stands, the place where South Clear creek flows from the mountains.

At this time there were at least five hundred wagons to be seen at one sight, camped on this creek. We camped near the crossing of Clear creek, and there was almost a constant stream of people coming in.

Late that evening four men came into camp with four yoke of oxen, a wagon, and an outfit for mining and with a good suppy of grub-- enough to last them a whole season. They camped that night a few yards from us. On finding that we had just returned from the mines they came over to learn what news we had. We told them what we had seen and what Mr. Russell told us.

After they had heard our story, one of them said. "Well, boys, I'm a goin' back to Missouri. What are the balance of you goin' to do?"

They talked the matter over for some time and finally all concluded that old Missouri was a pretty good country and they would all start back in the morning.

One of the crowd said: "What will we do with our provisions? We can't haul it back for our cattle are so tender footed now that they can hardly travel." Another said: "What we do not want ourselves we will give to those hand-cart men over there." But another one in the crowd who perhaps was more like the dog in the manger that could not eat the hay himself nor would not let the cows eat it, spoke up and said: "No, we will not do any such thing! What we do not want to take along to eat on our way back we will throw in the creek."

The next morning after they had eaten breakfast two of them got up into the wagon and selected what provisions they wanted to take along with them, after which they threw the remainder out on the ground and the other two carried it and threw it into the creek.

It consisted of flour, dried fruit, bacon, sugar, and I noticed one ten gallon keg of mola.s.ses.

I was told that this was an everyday occurrence. As we had seen the elephant and had about all the mining we wanted, for awhile, at least, we saddled up our horses and started for Taos, by the way of Bent's Fort.

Three days' ride took us to Bent's Fort, and we had a thousand and one questions to answer, for this was the first news they had got from the mines around Pike's Peak.

CHAPTER XXI.

A FIGHT WITH THE SIOUX.--HASA, THE MEXICAN BOY, KILLED.--MIXED UP WITH EMIGRANTS SOME MORE.--FOUR NEW GRAVES.--SUCCESSFUL TRADING WITH THE KIOWAS.

While at Fort Bent we bargained again to go and trade with the Kiowas, on the same terms that we were employed upon the preceding winter, and we could commence at any time we pleased.

We then started for Taos, and when we got there found Uncle Kit suffering very much with his last arrow wound. The doctor had told him that it had never healed inside and that it might be the death of him.

We remained at Taos until time to go to the fort, doing nothing in particular, but hunting a little and occasionally attending a fandango. During this time, however, unbeknown to us and the people at the fort, the Comanches and Sioux had been fighting among themselves, having been so bold as to come on to the Arkansas river and murder a number of white people. Had we known this we should not have made the attempt to go over that country.

Or had Bent and Roubidoux known it they would not have asked us to go. But, somehow, it seemed always my luck not to see trouble until I was right in it.

On our arrival at the fort they were anxious to get us fitted out and started as soon as possible. Mr. Roubidoux said: "Last winter you made four trips for us; now every extra trip you make this winter we will give you fifty dollars extra, apiece," which we thought a great layout.

We started out with thirty-two pack animals and the same Mexican boy as a.s.sistant that we had the previous winter.

While pa.s.sing through the Comanche country we met a young man of that tribe with whom I was on good terms, having done him a favor during the war between his tribe and the Utes, for which he felt very grateful to me. After learning where we were going, he said: "Look out for the Sioux, for they have killed lots of white people this fall near p.a.w.nee Rock." But he did not tell us that his tribe and the Sioux were at war.

When we had pa.s.sed nearly through the Comanche country we thought they were all west of us, for we saw where a large band of Indians had crossed the road going South. This we did not exactly understand, for we well knew that neither the Comanches nor Kiowas had hunt-parties out this time of year, as the buffalo were moving South, and the Indians could kill all they wanted near the villages.

It was about noon when we crossed the Indian trail and that was the general topic of conversation the balance of the day. If they had been on foot we could easily have told what tribe they belonged to by their moccasin tracks, but they all being on horseback left us to guess.

We made an early camp so that if it became necessary we could move that evening, but we built no fire.

As soon as we had decided on our camping place and while Jim and Hasa, the Mexican boy, were unpacking and arranging the camp, I rode about two miles from camp to high ground to look for Indians.

When I was on the highest point I could find, I saw a little band of Indians coming from the South, and making their way for the river below us. They were about ten miles away and I could not tell by looking through my gla.s.ses just the exact number, but I could see them plain enough to tell they were not Comanches.

On my return to camp I told Jim Bridger what I had seen and he at once declared that they were Sioux, and said we were sure to have trouble with them before long.

We decided to remain there that night, and I agreed that I would stand guard while Jim and Hasa slept. I stood guard until the morning star rose, and I turned in, telling Jim to get an early breakfast and call me, which he did. The boy brought in our horses, saddled them and tied them near camp. The pack animals were also feeding near camp.

Just as we had finished our breakfast and it was getting good daylight, I cast my eyes in the direction of our horses and saw that a number of them had raised their heads and were looking off down the river as though they had seen something. I sprang to my feet and saw nine Indians coming up the river in the direction of our camp, but they were apparently sneaking along slowly. I could see at once by their movements that they did not think they were discovered yet. I said to Jim: "The Sioux are on us," and he sprang to his feet, saying, "Let us mount our horses and meet them before they get among our pack horses," which we did, at the same time telling Hasa to keep the horses together.

We started to meet them on the dead run, and I wish to say here now, that Jim Bridger, though a very brave man, was very exciteable when in an Indian fight, and as we started I said to him: "Now Jim, for G.o.d's sake keep cool this time and make every shot count."

When within about a hundred yards of the Indians, and our horses doing their best, I raised my rifle and fired, killing the leader dead. I then drew my pistol and raised the yell. About that time, from some cause, Jim's horse shied off to the right, so when we met the Indians he and I were about thirty or forty yards apart.

Jim claimed that his horse scared at something in the sage brush.

Two of the Indians that seemed to be the best mounted made a break for our horses, which I discovered after I had fired two shots from my pistol. I wheeled my horse and made a rush for them, leaving Jim to take care of the other three that we had not yet killed. But the redskins had got too far the start of me, and being on good animals they beat to the pack horses, and before I got in gunshot of them they had killed both the boy and his horse.

Had the poor boy kept his presence of mind he might have saved himself, but I think he got excited and did not try to get away.

I got one of them, but the other having the fastest horse, outran me and made his escape. I think he had the fastest horse I ever saw under an Indian in my life. Jim Bridger killed one of the remaining three, and the others got away. Three out of nine escaped, and had it not been for Jim's horse getting scared I don't think they would have killed our Mexican boy.

We dug a grave and buried the poor fellow as best we could under the circ.u.mstances, scalped the Indians, packed up and pulled out, leaving the poor unfortunate lad to rest on the lonely banks of the Arkansas river. The Indians we left a prey to the many wild animals that roamed the hills and valleys.

We traveled on with heavy hearts, expecting at any time to be attacked again by another band of these "n.o.ble red men," fearing that we might not be so successful the next time.

In the afternoon we came to where the Indians had had another fight with what we supposed, and which afterwards proved to have been emigrants, returning from Pike's Peak. Here we saw four fresh graves, and from the general appearance of things we concluded that the fight had been in the morning, which also proved to be the case.