THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL, COLONEL HENRY INMAN [well read books .txt] 📗
- Author: COLONEL HENRY INMAN
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A Second Squeeze, Offered his Hand To Me, Which I,
Of Course, Shook Heartily, Then He Gazed at The Man He Had
Known As A Boy So Many Years Ago, With A Countenance
Beaming With Delight. I Never Saw Any One, Even Among
The White Race, Manifest So Much Joy As The Old Chief Did
Over The Visit Of The Colonel To His Camp.
He Immediately Ordered some Of His Young Men To Go Out And
Herd Our Mules Through The Night, Which They Brought Back
To Us At Daylight. He Then Had The Coach Hauled to The
Front Of His Lodge, Where We Could See All That Was Going On
To The Best Advantage. We Had Six Travellers With Us On
This Journey, And It Was A Great Sight For The Tenderfeet.
It Was About Ten O'Clock At Night When We Arrived at
Satanta'S Lodge, And We Saw Thousands Of Squaws And Bucks
Dancing and Mourning For Their Dead Warriors. At Midnight
The Old Chief Said We Must Eat Something at Once. So He
Ordered a Fire Built, Cooked buffalo And Venison, Setting
Before Us The Very Best That He Had, We Furnishing Canned
Fruit, Coffee, And Sugar From Our Coach Mess. There We Sat,
And Talked and Ate Until Morning; Then When We Were Ready
To Start Off, Satanta And The Other Chiefs Of The Various
Tribes Escorted us About Eight Miles On The Trail, Where
We Halted for Breakfast, They Remaining and Eating With Us.
Colonel Leavenworth Was On His Way To Assume Command Of One Of The
Military Posts In new Mexico; The Indians Begged him To Come Back
And Take His Quarters At Either Fort Larned or Fort Dodge. They Told
Him They Were Afraid Their Agent Was Stealing Their Goods And Selling
Them Back To Them; While If The Indians Took Anything From The Whites,
A War Was Started.
Colonel A. G. Boone Had Made A Treaty With These Same Indians In 1860,
And It Was Agreed that He Should Be Their Agent. It Was Done, And
The Entire Savage Nations Were Restful And Kindly Disposed toward
The Whites During His Administration; Any One Could Then Cross The
Plains Without Fear Of Molestation. In 1861, However, Judge Wright,
Of Indiana, Who Was A Member Of Congress At The Time, Charged colonel
Boone With Disloyalty.[29] He Succeeded in having Him Removed.
Majors Russel And Waddell, The Great Government Freight Contractors
Across The Plains, Gave Colonel Boone Fourteen Hundred acres Of Land,
Well Improved, With Some Fine Buildings On It, About Fifteen Miles
East Of Pueblo, Colorado. It Was Christened booneville, And The
Colonel Moved there. In the Fall Of 1862, Fifty Influential Indians
Of The Various Tribes Visited colonel Boone At His New Home, And
Begged that He Would Come Back To Them And Be Their Agent. He Told
The Chiefs That The President Of The United states Would Not Let Him.
Then They Offered to Sell Their Horses To Raise Money For Him To Go
To Washington To Tell The Great Father What Their Agent Was Doing;
And To Have Him Removed, Or There Was Going To Be Trouble.
The Indians Told Colonel Boone That Many Of Their Warriors Would Be
On The Plains That Fall, And They Were Declaring They Had As Much
Right To Take Something To Eat From The Trains As Their Agent Had
To Steal Goods From Them.
Early In the Winter Of The Next Year, A Small Caravan Of Eight Or Ten
Wagons Travelling To The Missouri River Was Overhauled at Nine Mile
Ridge, About Fifty Miles West Of Fort Dodge, By A Band Of Indians,
Who Asked for Something To Eat. The Teamsters, Thinking Them To Be
Hostile, Believed it Would Be A Good Thing To Kill One Of Them Anyhow;
So They Shot An Inoffensive Warrior, After Which The Train Moved on
To Its Camp And The Trouble Began. Every Man In the Whole Outfit,
With The Exception Of One Teamster, Who Luckily Got To The Arkansas
River And Hid, Was Murdered, The Animals All Carried away, And The
Wagons And Contents Destroyed by Fire.
This Foolish Act By The Master Of The Caravan Was The Cause Of A
Long War, Causing Hundreds Of Atrocious Murders And The Destruction
Of A Great Deal Of Property Along The Whole Western Frontier.
That Fall, 1863, Mr. Ryus Was The Messenger Or Conductor In charge
Of The Coach Running From Kansas City To Santa Fe. He Said:
It Then Required a Month To Make The Round Trip, About
Eighteen Hundred miles. On Account Of The Indian War
We Had To Have An Escort Of Soldiers To Go Through The Most
Dangerous Portions Of The Trail; And The Caravans All
Joined forces For Mutual Safety, Besides Having an Escort.
My Coach Was Attacked several Times During That Season, And
We Had Many Close Calls For Our Scalps. Sometimes The
Indians Would Follow Us For Miles, And We Had To Halt And
Fight Them; But As For Myself, I Had No Desire To Kill One
Of The Miserable, Outraged creatures, Who Had Been Swindled
Out Of Their Just Rights.
I Know Of But One Occasion When We Were Engaged in a Fight
With Them When Our Escort Killed any Of The Attacking
Savages; It Was About Two Miles From Little Coon Creek
Station, Where They Surrounded the Coach And Commenced
Hostilities. In the Fight One Officer And One Enlisted man
Were Wounded. The Escort Chased the Band For Several Miles,
Killed nine Of Them, And Got Their Horses.
Chapter X (Charles Bent)Almost Immediately After The Ratification Of The Purchase Of
New Mexico By The United states Under The Stipulations Of The
"Guadalupe-Hidalgo Treaty," The Utes, One Of The Most Powerful Tribes
Of Mountain Indians, Inaugurated a Bloody And Relentless War Against
The Civilized inhabitants Of The Territory. It Was Accompanied by
All The Horrible Atrocities Which Mark The Tactics Of Savage Hatred
Toward The White Race. It Continued for Several Years With More
Or Less Severity; Its Record A Chapter Of History Whose Pages Are
Deluged with Blood, Until Finally The Indians Were Subdued by The
Power Of The Military.
Along The Line Of The Santa Fe Trail, They Were Frequently In
Conjunction With The Apaches, And Their Depredations And Atrocities
Were Very Numerous; They Attacked fearlessly Freight Caravans,
Private Expeditions, And Overland Stage-Coaches, Robbing and Murdering
Indiscriminately.
In January, 1847, The Mail And Passenger Stage Left Independence,
Missouri, For Santa Fe On One Of Its Regular Trips Across The Plains.
It Had Its Full Complement Of Passengers, Among Whom Were A Mr. White
And Family, Consisting Of His Wife, One Child, And A Coloured nurse.
Day After Day The Lumbering Concord Coach Rolled on, With Nothing To
Disturb The Monotony Of The Vast Prairies, Until It Had Left Them
Far Behind And Crossed the Range Into New Mexico. Just About Dawn,
As The Unsuspecting Travellers Were Entering The "Canyon Of The
Canadian,"[30] And Probably Waking Up From Their Long Night'S Sleep,
A Band Of Indians, With Blood-Curdling Yells And Their Terrific
War-Whoop, Rode Down Upon Them.
In That Lonely And Rock-Sheltered gorge A Party Of The Hostile Savages,
Led by "White Wolf," A Chief Of The Apaches, Had Been Awaiting The
Arrival Of The Coach From The East; The Very Hour It Was Due Was
Well Known To Them, And They Had Secreted themselves There The
Night Before So As To Be On Hand Should It Reach Their Chosen Ambush
A Little Before The Schedule Time.
Out Dashed the Savages, Gorgeous In their Feathered war-Bonnets,
But Looking Like Fiends With Their Paint-Bedaubed faces. Stopping The
Frightened mules, They Pulled open The Doors Of The Coach And,
Mercilessly Dragging Its Helpless And Surprised inmates To The Ground,
Immediately Began Their Butchery. They Scalped and Mutilated the
Dead Bodies Of Their Victims In their Usual Sickening Manner, Not A
Single Individual Escaping, Apparently, To Tell Of Their Fiendish Acts.
If The Indians Had Been Possessed of Sufficient Cunning To Cover Up
The Tracks Of Their Horrible Atrocities, As Probably White Robbers
Would Have Done, By Dragging The Coach From The Road And Destroying It
By Fire Or Other Means, The Story Of The Murders Committed in the
Deep Canyon Might Never Have Been Known; But They Left The Tell-Tale
Remains Of The Dismantled vehicle Just Where They Had Attacked it,
And The Naked corpses Of Its Passengers Where They Had Been Ruthlessly
Killed.
At The Next Stage Station The Employees Were Anxiously Waiting For
The Arrival Of The Coach, And Wondering What Could Have Caused
The Delay; For It Was Due There At Noon On The Day Of The Massacre.
Hour After Hour Passed, And At Last They Began To Suspect That
Something Serious Had Occurred; They Sat Up All Through The Night
Listening For The Familiar Rumbling Of Wheels, But Still No Stage.
At Daylight Next Morning, Determined to Wait No Longer, As They Felt
Satisfied that Something Out Of The Usual Course Had Happened,
A Party Hurriedly Mounted their Horses And Rode Down The Broad Trail
Leading To The Canyon.
Upon Entering Its Gloomy Mouth After A Quick Lope Of An Hour,
They Discovered the Ghastly Remains Of Twelve Mutilated bodies.
These Were Gathered up And Buried in one Grave, On The Top Of The
Bluff Overlooking The Narrow Gorge.
They Could Not Be Sure Of The Number Of Passengers The Coach Had
Brought Until The Arrival Of The Next, As It Would Have A List Of
Those Carried by Its Predecessor; But It Would Not Be Due For
Several Days. They Naturally Supposed, However, That The Twelve Dead
Lying On The Ground Were Its Full Complement.
Not Waiting For The Arrival Of The Next Stage, They Despatched a
Messenger To The Last Station East That The One Whose Occupants
Had Been Murdered had Passed, And There Learned the Exact Number
Of Passengers It Had Contained. Now They Knew That Mrs. White,
Her Child, And The Coloured nurse Had Been Carried off Into A
Captivity Worse Than Death; For No Remains Of A Woman Were Found
With The Others Lying In the Canyon.
The Terrible News Of The Massacre Was Conveyed to Taos, Where Were
Stationed several Companies Of The Second United states Dragoons,
Commanded by Major William Greer; But As The Weather Had Grown
Intensely Cold And Stormy Since The Date Of The Massacre, It Took
Nearly A Fortnight For The Terrible Story To Reach There. The Major
Acted promptly When Appealed to To Go After And Punish The Savages
Concerned in the Outrage, But Several Days More Were Lost In getting
An Expedition Ready For The Field. It Was Still Stormy While The
Command Was Preparing For Its Work; But At Last, One Bright Morning,
In A Piercing Cold Wind, Five Troops Of The Dragoons, Commanded by
Major Greer In person, Left Their Comfortable Quarters To Attempt
The Rescue Of Mrs. White, Her Child, And Nurse.
Kit Carson, "Uncle Dick" Wooten, Joaquin Leroux, And Tom Tobin Were
The Principal Scouts And Guides Accompanying The Expedition, Having
Volunteered their Services To Major Greer, Which He Had Gladly Accepted.
The Massacre Having Occurred three Weeks Before The Command Had
Arrived at The Canyon Of The Canadian, And Snow Having Fallen Almost
Continuously Ever Since, The Ground Was Deeply Covered, Making It
Almost Impossible To Find The Trail Of The Savages Leading Out Of
The Gorge. No One Knew Where They Had Established their Winter Camp
--Probably Hundreds Of Miles Distant On Some Tributary Of The Canadian
Far To The South.
Carson, Wooton, And Leroux, After Scanning The Ground Carefully At
Every Point, Though The Snow Was Ten Inches Deep, In a Way Of Which
Only Men Versed in savage Lore Are Capable, Were Rewarded by
Discovering Certain Signs, Unintelligible To The Ordinary Individual[31]
--That The Murderers Had Gone South Out Of The Canyon Immediately
After Completing Their Bloody Work, And That Their Camp Was Somewhere
On The River, But How Far Off None Could Tell.
The Command Followed up The Trail Discovered
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