THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL by COLONEL HENRY INMAN (any book recommendations txt) 📖

None Of Them Struck, And The Balls From Their Rifles

Were Wild, As The Indians In those Days Were Not Very Good Shots;

The Rifle Was A New Weapon To Them.  The Trappers At First Were

Afraid The Savages Would Surely Try To Kill The Mules, But Soon

Reflected that The Indians Believed they Had The "Dead-Wood" On Them,

And The Mules Would Come Handy After They Had Been Scalped; So They

Felt Satisfied their Animals Were Safe For A While Anyhow.  The Men

Were Taking In all The Chances, However; Both Kept Their Eyes Skinned,

And Whenever One Of Them Saw A Stray Leg Or Head, He Drew A Bead

On It And When He Pulled the Trigger, Its Owner Tumbled over With

A Yell Of Rage From His Companions.

 

 

 

Whenever The Savages Attempted to Carry Off Their Dead,[64] The Two

Trappers Took Advantage Of The Opportunity, And Poured in their

Shots Every Time With Telling Effect.

 

 

 

By This Time Night Had Fallen, And The Indians Did Not Seem Anxious

To Renew The Fight After Dark; But They Kept Their Mounted patrols

On Every Side Of The Rock, At A Respectable Distance From Such Dead

Shots, Watching To Prevent The Escape Of The Besieged.  As They Were

Hungry, One Of The Men Went Down Under Cover Of The Darkness To Get

A Few Buffalo-Chips With Which To Cook Their Rabbit, And To Change

The Animals To Where They Could Get Fresh Grass.  He Returned safely

To The Summit Of The Rock, Where A Little Fire Was Made And Their

Supper Prepared.  They Had To Go Without Water All The Time, And So

Did The Mules; The Men Did Not Mind The Want Of It Themselves, But

They Could Not Help Pitying Their Poor Animals That Had Had None

Since They Left Camp Early That Morning.  It Was No Use To Worry,

Though; The Nearest Water Was At The River, And It Would Have Been

Certain Death To Have Attempted to Go There Unless The Savages

Cleared out, And From All Appearances They Had No Idea Of Doing That.

 

 

 

What Gave The Trappers More Cause For Alarm Than Anything Else,

Was The Fear That The Indians Would Fire The Prairie In the Morning,

And Endeavour To Smoke Them Out Or Burn Them Up.  The Grass Was In

Just The Condition To Make A Lively Blaze, And They Might Escape

The Flames, And Then They Might Not.  It Can Well Be Imagined how

Eagerly They Watched for The Dawn Of Another Day, Perhaps The Last

For Them.

 

 

 

The First Gray Streaks Of Light Had Hardly Peeped above The Horizon,

When, With An Infernal Yell, The Indians Broke For The Rock, And

The Trappers Were Certain That Some New Project Had Entered their

Heads.  The Wind Was Springing Up Pretty Freshly, And Nature Seemed

To Conspire With The Red devils, If They Really Meant To Burn The

Trappers Out; And From The Movements Of The Savages, That Was What

They Expected.  The Indians Kept At A Respectful Distance From The

Range Of The Trappers' Rifles, Who Chafed because They Could Not

Stop Some Of The Infernal Yelling With A Few Well-Directed bullets,

But They Had To Choke Their Rage, And Watch Events Closely.  During

A Temporary Lull In hostilities, One Of The Trappers Took Occasion

To Crawl Down To Where The Mules Were, And Shift Them To The West

Side Of The Rock, Where The Wall Was The Highest; So That The Flame

And Smoke Might Possibly Pass By Them Without So Much Danger As Where

They Were Picketed before.  He Had Just Succeeded in doing This,

And, Tearing Up The Long Grass For Several Yards Around The Animals,

Was In the Act Of Going Back, When His Partner Yelled out To Him:

"Look Out!  D---N 'Em, They'Ve Fired the Prairie!"  He Was Back On

The Top Of The Rock In another Moment, And Took In at A Glance What

Was Coming.

 

 

 

The Spectacle For A Short Interval Was Indescribably Grand; The Sun

Was Shining With All The Power Of Its Rays On The Huge Clouds Of Smoke

As They Rolled down From The North, Tinting Them A Glorious Crimson.

The Two Trappers Had Barely Time To Get Under The Shelter Of A Large

Projecting Point Of The Rocky Wall, When The Wind And Smoke Swept

Down To The Ground, And Instantly They Were Enveloped in the Darkness

Of Midnight.  They Could Not Discern A Single Object; Neither Indians,

Horses, The Prairie, Nor The Sun; And What A Terrible Wind!

 

 

 

The Trappers Stood Breathless, Clinging To The Projections Of Rock,

And Did Not Realize The Fire Was So Near Them Until They Were Struck

In The Face By Pieces Of Burning Buffalo-Chips That Were Carried

Toward Them With The Rapidity Of The Awful Wind.  They Were Now Badly

Scared, For It Seemed as If They Were To Be Suffocated.  They Were

Saved, However, Almost Miraculously; The Sheet Of Flame Passed them

Twenty Yards Away, As The Wind Fortunately Shifted at The Moment

The Fire Reached the Foot Of The Rock.  The Darkness Was So Intense

That They Did Not Discover The Flame; They Only Knew That They Were

Saved as The Clear Sky Greeted them From Behind The Dense Smoke-Cloud.

 

 

 

Two Of The Indians And Their Horses Were Caught In their Own Trap,

And Perished miserably.  They Had Attempted to Reach The East Side

Of The Rock, So As To Steal Around To The Other Side Where The Mules

Were, And Either Cut Them Loose Or Crawl Up On The Trappers While

Bewildered in the Smoke And Kill Them, If They Were Not Already Dead.

But They Had Proceeded only A Few Rods On Their Little Expedition,

When The Terrible Darkness Of The Smoke-Cloud Overtook Them And Soon

The Flames, From Which There Was No Possible Escape.

 

 

 

All The Game On The Prairie Which The Fire Swept Over Was Killed too.

Only A Few Buffalo Were Visible In that Region Before The Fire, But

Even They Were Killed.  The Path Of The Flames, As Was Discovered by

The Caravans That Passed over The Trail A Few Days Afterward, Was

Marked with The Crisp And Blackened carcasses Of Wolves, Coyotes,

Turkeys, Grouse, And Every Variety Of Small Birds Indigenous To The

Region.  Indeed, It Seemed as If No Living Thing It Had Met Escaped

Its Fury.  The Fire Assumed such Gigantic Proportions, And Moved

With Such Rapidity Before The Wind, That Even The Arkansas River

Did Not Check Its Path For A Moment; It Was Carried as Readily Across

As If The Stream Had Not Been In its Way.

 

 

 

The First Thought Of The Trappers On The Rock Was For Their Poor

Mules.   One Crawled to Where They Were, And Found Them Badly Singed,

But Not Seriously Injured.  The Men Began To Brighten Up Again When

They Knew That Their Means Of Transportation Were Relatively All

Right, And Themselves Also, And They Took Fresh Courage, Beginning

To Believe They Should Get Out Of Their Bad Scrape After All.

 

 

 

In The Meantime The Indians, With The Exception Of Three Or Four

Left To Guard The Rock, So As To Prevent The Trappers From Getting

Away, Had Gone Back To Their Camp In the Ravine, And Were Evidently

Concocting Some New Scheme For The Discomfort Of The Besieged

Trappers.  The Latter Waited patiently Two Or Three Hours For The

Development Of Events, Snatching a Little Sleep By Turns, Which They

Needed much; For Both Were Worn Out By Their Constant Watching.

At Last When The Sun Was About Three Hours High, The Indians Commenced

Their Infernal Howling again, And Then The Trappers Knew They Had

Decided upon Something; So They Were On The Alert In a Moment To

Discover What It Was, And Euchre Them If Possible.

 

 

 

The Devils This Time Had Tied all Their Ponies Together, Covered

Them With Branches Of Trees That They Had Gone Up On The Walnut For,

Packed some Lodge-Skins On These, And Then, Driving The Living

Breastworks Before Them, Moved toward The Rock.  They Proceeded

Cautiously But Surely, And Matters Began To Look Very Serious For

The Trappers.  As The Strange Cavalcade Approached, A Trapper Raised

His Rifle, And A Masked pony Tumbled over On The Scorched sod Dead.

As One Of The Indians Ran To Cut Him Loose, The Other Trapper Took

Him Off His Feet By A Well-Directed shot; He Never Uttered a Groan.

The Besieged now Saw Their Only Salvation Was To Kill The Ponies

And So Demoralize The Indians That They Would Have To Abandon Such

Tactics, And Quicker Than I Can Tell It, They Had Stretched four

More Out On The Prairie, And Made It So Hot For The Savages That

They Ran Out Of Range And Began To Hold A Council Of War.

 

 

 

Finding That Their Plan Would Not Work--For As The Last Pony Was Shot,

The Rest Stampeded and Were Running Wild Over The Prairie--The Indians

Soon Went Back To Their Camp Again, And The Trappers Now Had A Few

Spare Moments In which To Take An Account Of Stock.  They Discovered,

Much To Their Chagrin, That They Had Used up All Their Ammunition

Except Three Or Four Loads, And Despair Hovered over Them Once More.

 

 

 

The Indians Did Not Reappear That Evening, And The Cause Was Apparent;

For In the Distance Could Be Seen A Long Line Of Wagons, One Of The

Large American Caravans En Route To Santa Fe.  The Savages Had Seen

It Before The Trappers, And Had Cleared out.  When The Train Arrived

Opposite The Rock, The Relieved men Came Down From Their Little

Fortress, Joined the Caravan, And Camped with The Americans That

Night On The Walnut.  While They Were Resting around Their Camp-Fire,

Smoking and Telling Of Their Terrible Experience On The Top Of The

Rock, The Indians Could Be Heard Chanting The Death-Song While They

Were Burying Their Warriors Under The Blackened sod Of The Prairie.

 

 

 

I Witnessed a Spirited encounter Between A Small Band Of Cheyennes

And Pawnees In the Fall Of 1867.  It Occurred on The Open Prairie

North Of The Mouth Of The Walnut, And Not A Great Distance From

Pawnee Rock.  Both Tribes Were Hunting Buffalo, And When They,

By Accident, Discovered the Presence Of Each Other, With A Yell

That Fairly Shook The Sand Dunes On The Arkansas, They Rushed at Once

Into The Shock Of Battle.

 

 

 

That Night, In a Timbered bend Of The Walnut, The Victors Had A Grand

Dance, In which Scalps, Ears, And Fingers Of Their Enemies, Suspended

By Strings To Long Poles, Were Important Accessories To Their Weird

Orgies Around Their Huge Camp-Fires.[65]

 

 

 

One Of The Most Horrible Massacres In the History Of The Trail

Occurred at Little Cow Creek In the Summer Of 1864.  In july Of That

Year A Government Caravan, Loaded with Military Stores For Fort Union

In New Mexico, Left Fort Leavenworth For The Long And Dangerous

Journey Of More Than Seven Hundred miles Over The Great Plains,

Which That Season Were Infested by Indians To A Degree Almost Without

Precedent In the Annals Of Freight Traffic.

 

 

 

The Train Was Owned by A Mr. H. C. Barret, A Contractor With The

Quartermaster'S Department; But He Declined to Take The Chances Of

The Trip Unless The Government Would Lease The Outfit In its Entirety,

Or Give Him An Indemnifying Bond As Assurance Against Any Loss.

The Chief Quartermaster Executed the Bond As Demanded, And Barret

Hired his Teamsters For The Hazardous Journey; But He Found It A

Difficult Matter To Induce Men To Go Out That Season.

 

 

 

Among Those Whom He Persuaded to Enter His Employ Was A Mere Boy,

Named mcgee, Who Came Wandering Into Leavenworth A Few Weeks Before

The Train Was Ready To Leave, Seeking Work Of Any Description.

His Parents Had Died on Their Way To Kansas, And On His Arrival At

Westport Landing, The Emigrant Outfit That Had Extended to Him

Shelter And Protection In his Utter Loneliness Was Disbanded; So The

Youthful Orphan Was Thrown On His Own Resources.  At That Time The

Indians Of The Great Plains, Especially Along The Line Of The Santa Fe

Trail, Were Very Hostile, And Continually Harassing The Freight

Caravans And Stage-Coaches Of The Overland Route.  Companies Of Men

Were Enlisting and Being Mustered into The United states Service To

Go Out After The Savages, And Young Robert Mcgee Volunteered with

Hundreds Of Others For The Dangerous Duty.  The Government Needed

Men Badly, But Mcgee'S Youth Militated against Him, And He Was Below

The Required stature; So He Was Rejected by The Mustering Officer.

 

 

 

Mr. Barret, In hunting For Teamsters To Drive His Caravan, Came

Across Mcgee, Who, Supposing That He Was Hiring as A Government

Employee, Accepted mr. Barret'S Offer.

 

 

 

By The Last Day Of June The Caravan Was All Ready, And On The Morning

Of The Next Day, July 1, The Wagons Rolled out Of The Fort, Escorted

By A Company Of United states Troops, From The Volunteers Referred to.

 

 

 

The Caravan Wound Its Weary Way Over The Lonesome Trail With Nothing

To Relieve The