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Read books online » Drama » THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL by COLONEL HENRY INMAN (any book recommendations txt) 📖

Book online «THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL by COLONEL HENRY INMAN (any book recommendations txt) 📖». Author COLONEL HENRY INMAN



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By That Time The Little

Boy Waked.  He'D Slept Like A Top All Night And Hadn'T No Supper

Either; So When I Went To The Wagon Where He Was To Fetch Him Out,

He Just Put Them Baby Arms Of His'N Around My Neck, And Says,

'Where'S Mamma?'

 

 

 

"I Tell You, Boys, That Nigh Played me Out.  He Had No Idee, 'Cause

He Was Too Young To Realize What Had Happened; We Know'D His Pa Was

Killed, But Where His Ma Was, God Only Know'D!"

 

 

 

Here The Old Man Stopped short In his Narrative, Made Two Or Three

Efforts As If To Swallow Something That Would Not Go Down, While His

Eyes Had A Far-Away Look.  Presently He Picked up A Fresh Coal From

The Fire, Placed it On His Pipe, Which Had Gone Out, Then Puffing

Vigorously For A Few Seconds, Until His Head Was Again Enveloped in

Smoke, He Continued:--

 

 

 

"After I'D Washed the Little Fellow'S Face And Hands, I Gave Him A

Tin Cup Of Coffee And Some Meat.  You'D Ought To Seen Him Eat; He Was

Hungrier Than A Coyote.  Then While The Others Was A Watering and

Picketing The Mules, I Sot Down On The Grass And Took The Kid Into

My Lap To Have A Good Look At Him; For Until Now None Of Us Had Had

A Chance.

 

 

 

"He Was The Purtiest Child I'D Ever Seen; Great Black Eyes, And

Eyelashes That Laid Right On To His Cheeks; His Hair, Too, Was Black,

And As Curly As A Young Big-Horn.  I Asked him What His Name Was, And

He Says, 'Paul.'  'Hain'T You Got No Other Name?' Says I To Him Again,

And He Answered, 'Yes, Sir,' For He Was Awful Polite; I Noticed that.

'Paul Dale,' Says He Prompt-Like, And Them Big Eyes Of His'N Looked

Up Into Mine, As He Says 'What Be Yourn?'  I Told Him He Must Call Me

'Uncle John,' And Then He Says Again, As He Put His Arms Around My

Neck, His Little Lips All A Quivering, And Looking So Sorrowful,

'Uncle John, Where'S Mamma; Why Don'T She Come?'

 

 

 

"Boys, I Don'T Really Know What I Did Say.  A Kind O' Mist Came

Before My Eyes, And For A Minute Or Two I Didn'T Know Nothing.

I Come To In a Little While, And Seeing Thorpe Bringing Up The Mules

From The River, Where He'D Been Watering Them, I Says To Paul, To Get

His Mind On To Something Else Besides His Mother, 'Don'T You Want To

Ride One Of Them Mules When We Pull Out Again?'  The Little Fellow

Jumped off My Lap, Clapped his Hands, Forgetting His Trouble All At

Once, Child-Like, And Replied, 'I Do, Uncle John, Can I?'

 

 

 

"After We'D Camped there 'Bout Three Hours, The Cattle Full Of Grass

And All Laying Down Chewing Their Cud, We Concluded to Move On And

Make A Few Miles Before It Grow'D Too Hot, And To Get Further From

The Ingins, Which We Expected would Tackle Us Again, As Soon As They

Could Get Back From Their Camp, Where We Felt Sure They Had Gone For

Reinforcements.

 

 

 

"While The Mexicans Was Yoking Up, Me And Thorpe Rigged an Easy

Saddle On One Of The Mules, Out Of Blankets, For The Kid To Ride On,

And When We Was All Ready To Pull Out, I Histed him On, And You Never

See A Youngster So Tickled.

 

 

 

"We Had To Travel Mighty Slow; Couldn'T Make More Than Eighteen Miles

A Day With Oxen, And That Was In two Drives, One Early In the Morning,

And One In the Evening When It Was Cool, A Laying By And Grazing When

It Was Hot.  We Americans Walked along The Trail, And Mighty Slow

Walking It Was; 'Bout Two And A Half Miles An Hour.  I Kept Close

To Paul, For I Began To Set A Good Deal Of Store By Him; He Seemed

To Cotton To Me More Than He Did To The Rest, Wanting To Stick Near

Me Most Of The Time As He Rid On The Mule.  I Wanted to Find Out

Something 'Bout His Folks, Where They'D Come From; So That When We

Got To Independence, Perhaps I Could Turn Him Over To Them As Ought

To Have Him; Though In my Own Mind I Was Ornery Enough To Wish I

Might Never Find Them, And He'D Be Obliged to Stay With Me.  The Boy

Was Too Young To Tell What I Wanted to Find Out; All I Could Get Out

Of Him Was They'D Been Living In santa Fe Since He Was A Baby, And

That His Papa Was A Preacher.  I 'Spect One Of Them Missionaries

'Mong The Heathenish Greasers.  He Said They Was Going Back To His

Grandma'S In the States, But He Could Not Tell Where.  I Couldn'T

Get Nothing Out Of Them Mexican Bull-Whackers Neither--What They

Know'D Wasn'T Half As Much As The Kid--And I Had To Give It Up.

 

 

 

"Well, We Kept Moving along Without Having any More Trouble For

A Week; Them Ingins Never Following Us As We 'Lowed they Would.

I Really Enjoyed the Trip Such As I Never Had Before.  Paul He Was

So 'Fectionate And Smart, That He 'Peared to Fill A Spot In my Heart

What Had Always Been Hollow Until Then.  When He'D Got Tired of

Riding The Mule Or In one Of The Wagons, He'D Come And Walk Along

The Trail With Me, A Picking Flowers, Chasing The Prairie-Owls And

Such, Until His Little Legs 'Bout Played out, When I'D Hist Him On

His Mule Again.  When We'D Go Into Camp, Paul, He'D Run And Pick Up

Buffalo-Chips For The Fire, And Wanted to Help All He Could.

Then When It Came Time To Go To Sleep, The Boy Would Always Get Under

My Blankets And Cuddle Up Close To Me.  He'D Be Sure To Say His

Prayers First, Though; But It Seemed so Strange To Me Who Hadn'T

Heard A Prayer For Thirty Years.  I Never Tried to Stop Him, You May

Be Certain Of That.  He'D Ask God To Bless His Pa And Ma, And Wind Up

With 'Bless Uncle John Too.'  Then I Couldn'T Help Hugging Him Right

Up Tighter; For It Carried me Back To Old Missouri, To The Log-Cabin

In The Woods Where I Was Born, And Used to Say 'Now I Lay Me,' And

'Our Father' At My Ma'S Knee, When I Was A Kid Like Him.  I Tell You,

Boys, There Ain'T Nothing That Will Take The Conceit Out Of A Man

Here On The Plains, Like The Company Of A Kid What Has Been

Brought Up Right.

 

 

 

"I Reckon We'D Been Travelling about Ten Days Since We Left Point O'

Rocks, And Was On The Other Side Of The Big Bend Of The Arkansas,

Near The Mouth Of The Walnut, Where Fort Zarah Is Now.  We Had Went

Into Camp At Sundown, Close To A Big Spring That'S There Yet.

We Drawed up The Wagons Into A Corral On The Edge Of The River Where

There Wasn'T No Grass For Quite A Long Stretch; We Done This To Kind

O' Fortify Ourselves, For We Expected to Have Trouble With The Ingins

There, If Anywhere, As We Warn'T But Seventeen Miles From Pawnee Rock,

The Worst Place On The Whole Trail For Them; So We Picked out That

Bare Spot Where They Couldn'T Set Fire To The Prairie.  It Was Long

After Dark When We Eat Our Supper; Then We Smoked our Pipes, Waiting

For The Oxen To Fill Themselves, Which Had Been Driven About A Mile

Off Where There Was Good Grass.  The Mexicans Was Herding Them, And

When They'D Eat All They Could Hold, And Was Commencing To Lay Down,

They Was Driven Into The Corral.  Then All Of Us, Except Comstock And

Curtis, Turned in; They Was To Stand Guard Until 'Bout One O'Clock,

When Me And Thorpe Was To Change Places With Them And Stay Up Until

Morning; For, You See, We Was Afraid To Trust Them Mexicans.

 

 

 

"It Seemed like We Hadn'T Been Asleep More Than An Hour When Me And

Thorpe Was Called to Take Our Turn On Guard.  We Got Out Of Our

Blankets, I Putting Paul Into One Of The Wagons, Then Me And Thorpe

Lighted our Pipes And Walked around, Keeping Our Eyes And Ears Open,

Watching The Heavy Fringe Of Timber On The Creek Mighty Close, I Tell

You.  Just As Daylight Was Coming, We Noticed that Our Mules, What

Was Tied to A Wagon In the Corral, Was Getting Uneasy, A Pawing and

Snorting, With Their Long Ears Cocked up And Looking Toward The Walnut.

Before I Could Finish Saying To Thorpe, 'Them Mules Smells Ingins,'

Half A Dozen Or More Of The Darned cusses Dashed out Of The Timber,

Yelling and Shaking Their Robes, Which, Of Course, Waked up The Whole

Camp.  Me And Thorpe Sent A Couple Of Shots After Them, That Scattered

The Devils For A Minute; But We Hadn'T Hit Nary One, Because It Was

Too Dark Yet To Draw A Bead On Them.  We Was Certain There Was A Good

Many More Of Them Behind The First That Had Charged us; So We Got All

The Men On The Side Of The Corral Next To The Trail.  The Ingins We

Know'D Couldn'T Get Behind Us, On Account Of The River, And We Was

Bound To Make Them Fight Where We Wanted them To, If They Meant To

Fight At All.

 

 

 

"In Less Than A Minute, Quicker Than I Can Tell You, Sure Enough,

Out They Came Again, Only There Was 'Bout Eighty Of Them This Time.

They Made A Dash At Once, And Their Arrows Fell Like A Shower Of Hail

On The Ground And Against The Wagon-Sheets As The Cusses Swept By On

Their Ponies.  There Wasn'T Anybody Hurt, And Our Turn Soon Came.

Just As They Circled back, We Poured it Into Them, Killing Six And

Wounding Two.  You See Them Mexican Guns Had Did Some Work That We

Didn'T Expect, And Then We Americans Felt Better.  Well, Boys,

Them Varmints Made Four Charges Like That On To Us Before We Could

Get Shet Of Them; But We Killed as Many As Sixteen Or Eighteen, And

They Got Mighty Sick Of It And Quit; They Had Only Knocked over One

Mexican, And Put An Arrow Into Thorpe'S Arm.

 

 

 

"I Was Amused at Little Paul All The Time The Scrimmage Was Going On.

He Stood Up In the Wagon Where I'D Put Him, A Looking Out Of The Hole

Behind Where The Sheet Was Drawed together, And Every Time An Ingin

Was Tumbled off His Pony, He Would Clap His Hands And Yell, 'There

Goes Another One, Uncle John!'

 

 

 

"After Their Last Charge, They Rode Off Out Of Range, Where They

Stood In little Bunches Talking To Each Other, Holding Some Sort Of

A Pow-Wow.  It Riled us To See The Darned cusses Keep So Far Away

From Our Rifles, Because We Wanted to Lay A Few More Of Them Out, But

Was Obliged to Keep Still And Watch Out For Some New Deviltry.

We Waited there Until It Was Plumb Night, Not Daring To Move Out Yet;

But We Managed to Boil Our Coffee And Fry Slap-Jacks And Meat.

 

 

 

"The Oxen Kept Up A Bellowing and Pawing around The Corral, For They

Was Desperate Hungry And Thirsty, Hadn'T Had Nothing Since The Night

Before; Yet We Couldn'T Help Them Any, As We Didn'T Know Whether We

Was Shet Of The Ingins Or Not.  We Staid, Patient-Like, For Two Or

Three Hours More After Dark To See What The Ingins Was Going To Do,

As While We Sot Round Our Little Fire Of Buffalo-Chips, Smoking Our

Pipes, We Could Still Hear The Red devils A Howling and Chanting,

While They Picked up Their Dead Laying along The River-Bottom.

 

 

 

"As Soon As Morning Broke--We'D Ketched a Nap Now And Then During

The Night--We Got Ready For Another Charge Of The Ingins, Their

Favourite Time Being Just 'Bout Daylight; But There Warn'T Hide Or

Hair Of An Ingin In sight.  They'D Sneaked off In the Darkness Long

Before The First Streak Of Dawn; Had Enough Of Fighting, I Expect.

As Soon As We Discovered they'D All Cleared out, We Told The Drivers

To Hitch Up, And While They Was Yoking and Watering, Me 'N' Curtis

And Comstock Buried the Dead Mexican On The Bank Of The River, As We

Didn'T Want To Leave His Bones To Be Picked by The Coyotes, Which

Was Already Setting On The Sand Hills Watching and Waiting For Us

To Break Camp.  By The Time We'D Finished our Job, And Piled some

Rocks On His Grave, So As The Varmints Couldn'T Dig Him Up, The Train

Was Strung Out On The Trail, And Then We Rolled out Mighty Lively

For Oxen; For The Critters Was Hungry, And We Had To Travel Three

Or Four Miles The Other

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