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
As soon as we were satisfied that we had all of them we started
out to look for their horses, but it was so dark that we could not
find them, so we found our way back to where our own horses were.
Freeman and I laid down to rest, while George got on a horse and
kept circling the camp so as not to let any of the horses get away
during the night. He kept this up until the morning star arose,
and seeing that all the horses were there, laid down to rest. As
soon as it was beginning to get light Freeman and I arose, started
a fire, and sat around until after sun-up, when we got breakfast,
made some coffee and then called George, and all enjoyed a good
square meal once more.
After breakfast we scalped our Indians and found that we had eight
good half-breed horses and a number of good horse-hair robes. I
asked our guide how far we were from Fort Yuma and he said
straight through it was one hundred and twenty miles, but the way
that we would have to go it would be at least one hundred and
fifty miles. I concluded we had better pull out for the fort so
Freeman and myself rode ahead and George followed up the rear,
driving the loose horses. We did not see any more Indian sign that
day. Late in the evening I was riding along when I ran on to a
young antelope. I shot him and we had fresh meat for supper for
the first time since we left the fort. The next day we crossed a
big Indian trail going east. The trail looked to be about two days
old, but as our rations were beginning to run short we did not
attempt to follow them, but pushed on to the fort, making as good
time as possible, returning on the eleventh day from the time we
started out.
I reported our success to the General. He was well pleased with
the result of the trip, and when I reported the burying of the
dead bodies, he thought we had better return to the spot, taking
with us some good coffins, and give them a more decent burial, but
on consulting the doctor, concluded in that extraordinarily hot
climate it would be utterly impossible to bury them after so long
a time, and the idea was abandoned.
I showed the two dress waists that I had found at the Apache camp
to the General, also to Mrs. Jackson, but we never got any
information of any white prisoners being taken there at that time.
The General was pleased to see the Indian scalps, as he said they
were the first scalps that had been brought in for two months.
Gen. Crook now made up his mind at once to send Lieut. Jackson out
on the road with two companies of cavalry, and George Jones and
myself were to accompany them as scouts.
When we were ready to start Lieut. Jackson asked me if I didn't
want more scouts, but I told him that I thought we could get along
this trip with what we had.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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