Capt. W. F. Drannan, Chief of Scouts, As Pilot to Emigrant and Government Trains, Across the Plains of the Wild West of Fifty Years AgoDrannan, William F.
History
Capt. W. F. Drannan, Chief of Scouts, As Pilot to Emigrant and Government Trains, Across the Plains of the Wild West of Fifty Years Ago
Drannan, William F.
Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.)
The next day we were traveling on the back bone of a little ridge. There
was no timber except a few scattering Juniper trees. We were now in
Arizona, and water was very scarce. The reader will understand that
Carson invariably rode from fifty to one hundred yards ahead of the
command, and I always rode at his side.
I presume it was between two and three o'clock in the afternoon when
Col. Freemont called out to Carson, "How far are you going tonight?"
Carson studied a minute and answered, "I think, in seven or eight miles
we will find good water and a plenty of grass."
A few minutes after this Freemont said, "Say, Carson, why not go to that
lake there and camp? There is plenty of grass and water," at the same
time pointing to the south. Carson raised his head and looked at the
point indicated. Then he said, "Col. there is no water or grass there."
Freemont replied, "Damn it, look. Can't you see it?" at the same time
pointing in the direction of what he supposed to be the lake. Carson
checked his horse until Freemont came up near him and then said, "Col.,
spot this place by these little Juniper trees, and we will come back
here tomorrow morning, and if you can see a lake there then I will admit
that I don't know anything about this country."
Freemont was out of humor all the evening. He had nothing to say to any
person.
The next morning after breakfast was over and the herder had driven in
the horses Carson said, "Now Colonel, let's go and see that lake."
Under the circumstances Freemont could not say "no." I think five of us
besides Carson and Freemont went back. When we came to the place where
the little Juniper trees were, Freemont's face showed that he was badly
whipped, for sure enough there was no lake there; he had seen what is
called a mirage.
I have seen almost everything in mirage form, but what causes
this Atmospheric optical illusion has never been explained to my
satisfaction. Some men say it is imagination, but I do not think it is
so.
On our way back to camp a man by name of Cummings was riding by my side.
He made the remark in an undertone, "I am sorry this thing happened."
I asked him, "Why?" In reply he said, "Colonel Freemont won't get over
this in many a day, for Carson has shown him that he can be mistaken."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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