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
When the five minutes were up the order was given, "Platoon No. 1,
front face. Make ready. Take aim. Fire." And all of the scoundrels
fell at the first round, although some of them had to be shot the
second time to get them out of their misery.
This being done they were taken about a hundred yards away and
buried in the sand.
By that time it was daylight and Lieut. Jackson made a detail of
twenty-four men to assist George and I in driving the stock back
to the Davis ranch. The rest of the company returned to,
headquarters, but went by way of the Davis ranch to assist in
burying the bodies of the old gentleman and the two sons. Lieut.
Jackson told me that when he arrived at the ranch and saw the dead
bodies and heard the sad story of the wife and mother and of her
daughters, he said it was more than he could stand. He made a
detail of six men to dig the graves and he returned to
headquarters and moved the entire command down there and they all
attended the funeral.
After the funeral was over Mrs. Davis called me to one side and
said: "There is one more favor I wish to ask of you before you
leave." I asked her what it was. She said as she was keeping a
boarding-house she would have to keep travelers, and that she
would like to have us leave a man to look after the stock until
such time as she could get some one to work for her. I told her
that if the Lieutenant did not object I would leave a man with her
that would take as much interest in the stock as if they were his
own, and that she would find him a perfect gentleman at all times.
I called Lieut. Jackson aside and mentioned the matter to him. He
told me to leave a man and that he would also detail a man to
stay, which he did then and there. I asked George Jones to stay,
which he was willing to do.
Mrs. Davis asked us to send her a good, trusty man and she would
pay him good wages, and she said she would write to her brother,
who, when he came out, would close up her business there as
quickly as possible, and they would return to the East.
Arriving at the fort and finding no idle men, Lieut. Jackson wrote
to San Francisco for a man, and in about three weeks he came, and
he proved to be a good one, as Mrs. Davis told me several years
afterwards.
It was nearly a month after we arrived at the fort before George
Jones came. The next day after he arrived he told me that he had
just received a letter from his father, who was then living
somewhere in the state of Illinois, and had written him to come
home as he wanted to emigrate to Oregon the following spring, and
wanted George to pilot the train across the plains and over the
mountains to the country where big red apples and pretty girls
were said to grow in such abundance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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