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
My assistants and I watched them all that day, and the train,
after the Indians had gone, moved on. The Indians went back and
took the trail of the nine scouts that they had sent out the
morning before, tracked them to where their dead bodies lay, and
taking four of the bodies with them, moved on eastward. We
selected a high point and watched them until they had gone about
ten miles, and then we turned and followed up the train, which
camped that night at the head of Rock Creek. When we arrived and
reported that the Indians had left the county they were the
happiest lot of people I ever saw. It seemed that they thought
this was the only band of Indians in the country.
The next day being Sunday Jim proposed that we lay over and rest,
saying that he was about worn out himself and that he was
satisfied that the scouts were in the same condition. This was
satisfactory to all, so we did not move camp that day.
Up to this time we had not killed any game, although we had seen
plenty, there being considerable buffalo in this part of the
country yet, but it had been contrary to orders to shoot while
traveling, and I want to say right here that the people of this
train were always obedient to our orders during our travels with
them.
I told them I would go out and kill a buffalo that day provided I
could find one not too far from camp. A number of men in the train
wanted to go with me for a buffalo hunt. "The more the merrier," I
said, so we and started, six of us together.
About two miles from camp we saw a band of fifteen that had not
yet seen us. We at once dropped back over the hill and taking a
circuitous route, we rode on the opposite side of them from camp,
and cautiously to within about a hundred and fifty yards, when
they raised their heads, took a good look at us and started off
toward the train. I told Saunders as he was on a fast horse to
take one side and I would take the other and let the other boys
bring up the rear, as by so doing we could drive them near camp
and save packing the meat so far. When we were in the valley just
below camp I told each man to select his buffalo and fire, which
they did, when within a quarter of a mile from camp. We then all
commenced yelling like Indians, and Jim Bridger said that he never
saw a crowd of men get to their guns as quick as the men in the
train did, for they actually thought we were Indians.
We succeeded in killing four buffalo out of the band, the last one
being within a hundred yards of camp. We dressed them and all
hands volunteered to carry the meat to camp where it was turned
over to the committee to be distributed among the people of the
entire train.
This was a great treat to them, for they had been living on bacon
for a long time, having no fresh meat whatever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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