Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains: An Authentic Record of a Life Time of Hunting, Trapping, Scouting and Indian Fighting in the Far WestDrannan, William F.
History
Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains: An Authentic Record of a Life Time of Hunting, Trapping, Scouting and Indian Fighting in the Far West
Drannan, William F.
Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Indians of North America -- Wars
We rode on again, they continuing to follow us. When we were far
enough ahead again and in a suitable place, we stopped, reloaded
and waited for them to come up, but they seemed to have changed
their minds and didn't appear as anxious to ride in our company as
they had on the start, for now they kept out of pistol shot. One
of the boys dismounted and said: "I believe I can reach them from
here," and taking a rest over his horse's back, fired and killed a
horse. This caused a scattering among them, and if our horses had
been fresh we would have tried to kill the whole outfit.
George Jones remarked that he guessed the red devils had enough of
it already, and we rode on. They made two circles around us,
keeping out of gunshot, and then rode away.
We pushed on with all haste possible, expecting that they had gone
away to get reinforcements and follow us up, but that was the last
we saw of them.
That night we made a dry camp, and did not build any fire for fear
that they might be on our trail, and the next morning we were off
very early. We rode until about ten o'clock, when we struck plenty
of grass and water. Here we stopped, and one man stood guard on
the hill while the others ate breakfast, and we were agreeably
surprised at not seeing any more Indians on the trip.
We got back to the command the evening of the sixth day, and
informed Col. Elliott that there was plenty of water as far as we
went, and abundance of grass, also no end of Indian sign.
The command made preparations to move on again, and two days after
our return we started, but moved slowly and cautiously, making
only from ten to fifteen miles a day. Now we had twelve scouts in
all, and it was our business to guard the command while traveling,
and, in fact, at all times when there was a possibility of an
attack, and we had to watch out north, south, east and west, lest
a large band of Indians should make an attack unawares and get the
better of the expedition.
We traveled in this manner until reaching the little stream spoken
of, where the scouting party had turned back, not having met any
trouble.
The Colonel thought it best for me to take a part of my scouts and
go ahead again and prospect the country for water and grass.
After giving my other scouts particular orders to keep A sharp
lookout for Indians, and to scout the country thoroughly for eight
or ten miles in every direction daily, I took my same four men
that were out the trip previous, four days' rations, and started
out again.
All my talking did not prevent a surprise, for the second day
after our departure the Indians made an attack on the herders,
captured twenty-two horses in broad daylight and killed one of the
herders. The same evening about sundown they made an attack on the
command, and after a hard fight for an hour or more, the Indians
retreated, leaving sixty dead Indians on the battlefield, there
being eleven soldiers killed and twenty wounded.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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