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
roughest, rockiest ground they could find, all of which led me to
believe they had expected to be followed. The next morning we came
to where they had made their first camp. All the evidence we could
see of white prisoners in their charge was a few pieces of calico
torn up and scattered around their camp-ground. We followed the
trail until we came to where they had made their second camp, and
here we found the waists of two women's dresses, one being
somewhat larger than the other. The two dress waists we took along
with us. Here the Indians had changed their course somewhat, and
our guide said in the direction of their main village, but I did
not consider myself well enough posted to go too near their main
village. I told the guard to lead us off south of west from Fort
Yuma, which he did, and late that afternoon we saw six Indians
traveling east, and I told the boys that they were scouts for the
main band and that they were going out to look for emigrants. When
we first got sight of them they were traveling up an open valley.
I told the boys that we would keep a close watch of them, and if
they should camp alone we would have their scalps before morning;
but just one look from Freeman and I was convinced that he did not
approve of this scheme. George said to him: "You can take care of
the horses can't you, and if everything is favorable, Cap and I
can take care of the Indians." Late in the afternoon I told them
what course to travel, and taking advantage of the ground, I
pushed on to see the Indians go into camp. When I started the
guide told me there was water about a mile above where the Indians
were, and that they were pulling for it. He said there was a fine
spring of water in a little bunch of timber, and that the Indians
always camped there when they were going to and from their hunting
ground. Sure enough, when they came to this little grove they all
dismounted and turned their horses loose entirely, then commenced
to roast their antelope meat for supper. I hurried back to meet my
companions, and we succeeded in getting within a quarter of a mile
of the Indians. By this time it was getting dark.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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