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

The

          Crimson Pennant, Bows Strung, And Quivers Full Of Barbed

          Arrows.  In addition To These Weapons, Which, With The

          Hunting-Knife And Tomahawk, Are Considered as Forming The

          Armament Of The Warrior, Each One Was Supplied with Either

          A Breech-Loading Rifle Or Revolver, Sometimes With Both--

          The Latter Obtained through The Wise Forethought And Strong

          Love Of Fair Play Which Prevails In the Indian Department,

          Which, Seeing That Its Wards Are Determined to Fight,

          Is Equally Determined that There Shall Be No Advantage Taken,

          But That The Two Sides Shall Be Armed alike; Proving, Too,

          In this Manner, The Wonderful Liberality Of Our Government,

          Which Is Not Only Able To Furnish Its Soldiers With The

          Latest Style Of Breech-Loaders To Defend It And Themselves,

          But Is Equally Able And Willing To Give The Same Pattern

          Of Arms To The Common Foe.  The Only Difference Is, That If

          The Soldier Loses His Weapon, He Is Charged double Price

          For It, While To Avoid Making any Such Charge Against The

          Indian, His Weapons Are Given Him Without Conditions Attached.

 

 

 

          In the Line Of Battle Before Us There Were Several Hundred

          Indians, While Further To The Rear And At Different

          Distances Were Other Organized bodies, Acting apparently

          As Reserves.  Still Further Behind Were Small Detachments

          Who Seemed to Perform The Duty Of Couriers, And Were Held

          In readiness To Convey Messages To The Village.  The Ground

          Beyond Was Favourable For An Extended view, And As Far As

          The Eye Could Reach, Small Groups Of Individuals Could Be

          Seen In the Direction Of The Village; These Were Evidently

          Parties Of Observation, Whose Sole Object Was To Learn The

          Result Of Our Meeting With The Main Body And Hasten With

          The News To The Village.

 

 

 

          For A Few Moments Appearances Seemed to Foreshadow Anything

          But A Peaceable Issue.  The Infantry Was In the Advance,

          Followed closely By The Artillery, While My Command,

          The Cavalry, Was Marching On The Flank.  General Hancock,

          Who Was Riding With His Staff At The Head Of The Column,

          Coming Suddenly In view Of The Wild, Fantastic Battle Array,

          Which Extended far To Our Right And Left, And Was Not More

          Than Half A Mile In our Front, Hastily Sent Orders To The

          Infantry, Artillery, And Cavalry To Form In line Of Battle,

          Evidently Determined that, If War Was Intended, We Should Be

          Prepared.  The Cavalry Being The Last To Form On The Right,

          Came Into Line On A Gallop, And Without Waiting To Align

          The Ranks Carefully, The Command Was Given To "Draw Sabre."

          As The Bright Blades Flashed from Their Scabbards Into The

          Morning Sunlight, And The Infantry Brought Their Muskets

          To A Carry, A Contrast Was Presented which, To A Military

          Eye, Could But Be Striking.  Here In battle Array, Facing

          Each Other, Were The Representatives Of Civilized and

          Barbarous Warfare.  The One, With Few Modifications, Stood

          Clothed in the Same Rude Style Of Dress, Bearing The Same

          Patterned shield And Weapon That His Ancestors Had Borne

          Centuries Before; The Other Confronted him In the Dress

          And Supplied with The Implements Of War Which An Advanced

          Stage Of Civilization Had Pronounced the Most Perfect.

          Was The Comparative Superiority Of These Two Classes To Be

          Subjected to The Mere Test Of War Here?  All Was Eager

          Anxiety And Expectation.  Neither Side Seemed to Comprehend

          The Object Or Intentions Of The Other; Each Was Waiting

          For The Other To Deliver The First Blow.  A More Beautiful

          Battle-Ground Could Not Have Been Chosen.  Not A Bush Or

          Even The Slightest Irregularity Of Ground Intervened between

          The Two Lines, Which Now Stood Frowning and Facing Each Other.

          Chiefs Could Be Seen Riding along The Line, As If Directing

          And Exhorting Their Braves To Deeds Of Heroism.

 

 

 

          After A Few Moments Of Painful Suspense, General Hancock,

          Accompanied by General A. J. Smith And Other Officers,

          Rode Forward, And Through An Interpreter Invited the Chiefs

          To Meet Us Midway For The Purpose Of An Interview.

          In response To This Invitation, Roman Nose, Bearing a White

          Flag, Accompanied by Bull Bear, White Horse, Gray Beard,

          And Medicine Wolf, On The Part Of The Cheyennes, And Pawnee

          Killer, Bad Wound, Tall-Bear-That-Walks-Under-The-Ground,

          Left Hand, Little Bear, And Little Bull, On The Part Of The

          Sioux, Rode Forward To The Middle Of The Open Space Between

          The Two Lines.  Here We Shook Hands With All The Chiefs,

          Most Of Them Exhibiting Unmistakable Signs Of Gratification

          At This Apparently Peaceful Termination Of Our Rencounter.

          General Hancock Very Naturally Inquired the Object Of The

          Hostile Attitude Displayed before Us, Saying To The Chiefs

          That If War Was Their Object, We Were Ready Then And There

          To Participate.  Their Immediate Answer Was That They Did

          Not Desire War, But Were Peacefully Disposed.  They Were

          Then Told That We Would Continue Our March Toward The

          Village, And Encamp Near It, But Would Establish Such

          Regulations That None Of The Soldiers Would Be Permitted

          To Approach Or Disturb Them.  An Arrangement Was Then

          Effected by Which The Chiefs Were To Assemble At General

          Hancock'S Headquarters As Soon As Our Camp Was Pitched.

          The Interview Then Terminated, And The Indians Moved off

          In the Direction Of Their Village, We Following Leisurely

          In the Rear.

 

 

 

          A March Of A Few Miles Brought Us In sight Of The Village,

          Which Was Situated in a Beautiful Grove On The Bank Of The

          Stream Up Which We Had Been Marching.  It Consisted of

          Upwards Of Three Hundred lodges, A Small Fraction Over Half

          Belonging To The Cheyennes, The Remainder To The Sioux.

          Like All Indian Encampments, The Ground Chosen Was A Most

          Romantic Spot, And At The Same Time Fulfilled in every

          Respect The Requirements Of A Good Camping-Ground; Wood,

          Water, And Grass Were Abundant.  The Village Was Placed on

          A Wide, Level Plateau, While On The North And West, At A

          Short Distance Off, Rose High Bluffs, Which Admirably Served

          As A Shelter Against The Cold Winds Which At That Season Of

          The Year Prevail From Those Directions.  Our Tents Were

          Pitched within A Mile Of The Village.  Guards Were Placed

          Between To Prevent Intrusion Upon Our Part.  We Had Scarcely

          Pitched our Tents When Roman Nose, Bull Bear, Gray Beard,

          And Medicine Wolf, All Prominent Chiefs Of The Cheyenne

          Nation, Came Into Camp With The Information That Upon Our

          Approach Their Women And Children Had All Fled from The

          Village, Alarmed by The Presence Of So Many Soldiers, And

          Imagining a Second Chivington Massacre To Be Intended.

          General Hancock Insisted that They Should All Return,

          Promising Protection And Good Treatment To All; That If

          The Camp Was Abandoned, He Would Hold It Responsible.

          The Chiefs Then Stated their Belief In their Ability To

          Recall The Fugitives, Could They Be Furnished with Horses

          To Overtake Them.  This Was Accordingly Done, And Two Of

          Them Set Out Mounted on Two Of Our Horses.  An Agreement

          Was Also Entered into At The Same Time, That One Of Our

          Interpreters, ed gurrier, A Half-Breed cheyenne, Who Was In

          The Employ Of The Government, Should Remain In the Village

          And Report Every Two Hours As To Whether Any Indians Were

          Leaving There.  This Was About Seven O'Clock In the Evening.

          At Half-Past Nine The Half-Breed returned to Head-Quarters

          With The Intelligence That All The Chiefs And Warriors Were

          Saddling Up To Leave, Under Circumstances Showing That They

          Had No Intention Of Returning, Such As Packing Up Every

          Article That Could Be Carried with Them, And Cutting and

          Destroying Their Lodges--This Last Being Done To Obtain

          Small Pieces For Temporary Shelter.

 

 

 

          I Had Retired to My Tent, Which Was Some Few Hundred yards

          From That Of General Hancock, When A Messenger From The

          Latter Awakened me With The Information That The General

          Desired my Presence In his Tent.  He Briefly Stated the

          Situation Of Affairs, And Directed me To Mount My Command

          As Quickly And As Silently As Possible, Surround The Indian

          Village, And Prevent The Departure Of Its Inhabitants.

          Easily Said, But Not So Easily Done.  Under Ordinary

          Circumstances, Silence Not Being Necessary, I Could Have

          Returned to My Camp, And By A Few Blasts From The Trumpet,

          Placed every Soldier On His Saddle Almost As Quickly As It

          Has Taken Time To Write This Short Sentence.  No Bugle Calls

          Must Be Sounded; We Were To Adopt Some Of The Stealth Of The

          Indians--How Successfully Remained to Be Seen.  By This Time

          Every Soldier And Officer Was In his Tent Sound Asleep.

          First Going To The Tent Of The Adjutant And Arousing Him,

          I Procured an Experienced assistant In my Labours.  Next The

          Captains Of Companies Were Awakened and Orders Imparted

          To Them.  They In turn Transmitted the Order To The First

          Sergeant, Who Similarly Aroused the Men.  It Has Often

          Surprised me To Observe The Alacrity With Which Disciplined

          Soldiers, Experienced in campaigning, Will Hasten To Prepare

          Themselves For The March In an Emergency Like This.

          No Questions Are Asked, No Time Is Wasted.  A Soldier'S

          Toilet, On An Indian Campaign, Is A Simple Affair, And

          Requires Little Time For Arranging.  His Clothes Are

          Gathered up Hurriedly, No Matter How, So Long As He Retains

          Possession Of Them.  The First Object Is To Get His Horse

          Saddled and Bridled, And Until This Is Done His Own Dress

          Is A Matter Of Secondary Importance, And One Button Or Hook

          Must Do The Duty Of Half A Dozen.  When His Horse Is Ready

          For The Mount, The Rider Will Be Seen Completing His Own

          Equipment; Stray Buttons Will Receive Attention, Arms Will

          Be Overhauled, Spurs Restrapped; Then, If There Still Remain

          A Few Spare Moments, The Homely Black Pipe Is Filled and

          Lighted, And The Soldier'S Preparation Is Complete.

 

 

 

          The Night Was All That Could Be Desired for The Success Of

          Our Enterprise.  The Air Was Mild And Pleasant; The Moon,

          Although Nearly Full, Kept Almost Constantly Behind The

          Clouds, As If To Screen Us In our Hazardous Undertaking.

          I Say Hazardous, Because None Of Us Imagined for One Moment

          That If The Indians Discovered us In our Attempt To Surround

          Them And Their Village, We Should Escape Without A Fight--

          A Fight, Too, In which The Indians, Sheltered behind The

          Trunks Of The Stately Forest Trees Under Which Their Lodges

          Were Pitched, Would Possess All The Advantage.  General

          Hancock, Anticipating That The Indians Would Discover Our

          Approach, And That A Fight Would Ensue, Ordered the

          Artillery And Infantry Under Arms, To Await The Result Of

          Our Moonlight Adventure.  My Command Was Soon In the Saddle,

          And Silently Making Its Way Toward The Village.

          Instructions Had Been Given Forbidding all Conversation

          Except In a Whisper.  Sabres Were Disposed of To Prevent

          Clanging.  Taking a Camp-Fire Which We Could See In the

          Village As Our Guiding Point, We Made A Detour So As To

          Place The Village Between Ourselves And The Infantry.

          Occasionally The Moon Would Peep Out From The Clouds And

          Enable Us To Catch A Hasty Glance At The Village.  Here And

          There Under The Thick Foliage We Could See The White,

          Conical-Shaped lodges.  Were The Inmates Slumbering,

          Unaware Of Our Close Proximity, Or Were Their Dusky Defenders

          Concealed, As Well They Might Have Been, Along The Banks Of

          The Pawnee, Quietly Awaiting Our Approach, And Prepared to

          Greet Us With Their Well-Known War-Whoop?  These Were

          Questions That Were Probably Suggested to The Mind Of Each

          Individual Of My Command.  If We Were Discovered approaching

          In the Stealthy, Suspicious Manner Which Characterized our

          Movements, The Hour Being Midnight, It Would Require A More

          Confiding Nature Than That Of The Indian To Assign A

          Friendly Or Peaceful Motive To Our Conduct.  The Same

          Flashes Of Moonlight Which Gave Us Hurried glimpses Of The

          Village Enabled us To See Our Own Column Of Horsemen

          Stretching Its Silent Length Far Into The Dim Darkness, And

          Winding Its Course, Like Some Huge Anaconda About To Envelop

          Its Victim.

 

 

 

          The Method By Which It Was Determined to Establish A Cordon

          Of Armed troopers About The Fated village,