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
At last I saw the cavalry coming back up the mountain, some on
foot, some leading their horses, and a very few riding. The
Indians were being held in check by the infantry in order to give
the cavalry a chance to get out of the canyon with their horses.
As well as I can remember, in this fight Gen. Crook lost forty-two
men killed, twenty-one wounded, and sixty horses killed.
That night I heard one sergeant ask another in the presence of
Gen. Crook when the dead would be buried, but the question was not
answered. The next morning the General told me to take as many men
as I wanted and see if I could recover the dead bodies. I said.
"General, if you will wait until night I will take my men and if
there are any dead bodies left on the battlefield I will try and
get them, but I do not propose to take my men and stick them up
for a target to be shot at by the Indians when they have no show
whatever, for I will not ask my men to go where I will not go
myself."
He said: "Suit yourself about it," and turned and walked away.
That night I took my entire scout force, besides twenty soldiers
that volunteered to go along, and descended the mountain. We
worked hard all night, and all that we could find was twenty-one
bodies, and that day they were buried, after which we commenced
making preparations to return to headquarters.
Up to that time I had not had a chance to talk to Lieut. Jackson
concerning the battle in Black canyon, as we had both been busy
ever since. When on a march it was my custom to ride ahead of the
army, so the morning that we were ready to start back I had given
my orders to the scouts, had mounted, and was just ready to start,
when Lieut. Jackson said: "Wait a minute, Captain, and I will ride
with you."
The reader will understand that by this time the Lieutenant and I
were as intimate friends as though we were brothers, and when he
told me anything I could rely upon it, and I had always made it a
rule to be punctual with him. If he would ask me a question I
would always answer it the best I could, and if I asked him for
any information, if he knew he would tell me. And here I would
like to say that while Gen. Crook bore the name of being a great
Indian fighter, I know for a fact that Lieut. Jackson planned more
victories two to one than Gen. Crook did himself, and had it been
in the Lieutenant's power to have kept those soldiers out of Black
canyon, they never would have entered it.
That morning after we had ridden a short distance he mentioned the
fight and said: "Cap, that was a horrible affair." I said:
"Lieutenant it was not half as bad as I thought it would be, for
when I saw you go down there I did not expect to see half of the
boys come back." He said: "Had it not been for the infantry coming
to our rescue just when it did not a horse would have come out of
the canyon, and but very few soldiers."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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