Forty Years Among the Indians: A true yet thrilling narrative of the author's experiences among the nativesJones, Daniel W. (Daniel Webster)
History
Forty Years Among the Indians: A true yet thrilling narrative of the author's experiences among the natives
Jones, Daniel W. (Daniel Webster)
Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Indians of North America; Latter Day Saint pioneers -- Biography
After running some distance my mule commenced to act as though he was
wounded and about to fall. This continued for several minutes, giving
us much uneasiness, but he soon recovered himself. He must have been in
pain from excitement, as he was not wounded.
Moore and I were now neck and neck on the lead, going at full speed. I
asked him to turn to the north and get our right direction of travel.
He paid no attention to my words, so I repeated them rather sharply,
when he answered, "D---n it, turn to the north yourself, I cannot turn
my mule any more than a saw-log." We found we were much like the old
parson who yoked himself to the calf, we were running away in spite of
ourselves.
On looking back we saw that the horsemen were about twenty yards in the
rear. I called and asked them if their horses were under control. They
answered, "Yes."
"Then ride up and take the lead."
They answered that our mules were too fast for them, so we managed to
check their speed a little. The horsemen, whipping up, at length got
the lead, when they turned to the north in the direction we wished
to travel. Shortly after turning to the north we came to a clump of
cedars. Here Moore and I tried hard to persuade our companions to stop,
tie up and go back with us and creep on to the robbers, believing we
could surprise and whip them. This we could not prevail on them to do.
We continued on some few miles, coming to the creek bank where it was
so steep that we could not cross. This forced us to go down toward the
road, which we finally struck.
I now became for the first time thoroughly frightened. During the whole
scene that I have been describing, I had never felt much fear. While
I was untying the rope the balls came so thick that the flesh on my
ribs twitched a little. Moore says he could not help dodging when the
bullets flew so thick and close. Dafney laughed and asked if he thought
he could dodge them.
It would have been an easy matter for the robbers to have come on and
got to the crossing ahead of us, and ambushed us, as the brush was
thick on each side of the road. This I fully realized and insisted that
we should not take the road, but to no purpose. The others felt that we
had got clear and that it would be best to keep on to the next ranch,
some forty miles distant. This we reached about sunrise.
Moore and I rode all night bareback, most of the time on a hard trot.
We arrived at Zan Hicklin's on the Green Horn river early in the
morning. Hicklin was an old acquaintance and treated us kindly,
furnishing us with saddles and blankets, and such provisions as we
could take. We stayed with him three days before we were able to travel
on, being so sore from our bareback feat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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