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 time arrived for the hanging and the prisoners were led
to the scaffold, each dispatch carrier was mounted and standing on
the outer edge of the crowd, ready at the moment he received the
dispatch to be off at once. When the four Indians were led upon
the scaffold to meet their doom, each of them were asked, through
an interpreter, whether or not he wished to say anything before
being hung, but they all shook their heads with the exception of
Captain Jack, who informed them that he had something to say.
He said: "I would like for my brother to take my place and let me
live so I can take care of my wife and little girl."
The carrier for the Inter-Ocean was the first to get his dispatch,
the Examiner the second, I receiving mine just as the last Indian
was hung, and now for the race to see who gets there first. It was
eleven o'clock when we started. We all traveled together for the
first twenty miles, where I left the wagon road and took the trail
for Ashland. Now I had sixty miles to ride over a trail and they
had eighty miles over a wagon road. At this junction where the
trail left the wagon road I bade the other couriers good-day,
telling them that in case they beat me they must treat to the
oysters when we met at Jacksonville, and I sped away and lost no
time in getting from there to Cold Springs, where I found my other
horse picketed out as I had ordered. I dismounted, threw my saddle
on the other horse, which was apparently feeling fine, mounted him
and was off again, leaving the other horse picketed at the same
place, so my man could get him on his return. My horse took a long
sweeping gallop and kept it up for about twelve miles, by which
time he was beginning to sweat quite freely, and I commenced to
urge him and put him down to all I thought he would stand. When I
came in sight of Black Bess she raised her head and whinnied to
me. The young man was lying asleep and holding her rope, while she
was grazing near him. Again I changed my saddle from my other
horse to Black Bess, and gave the young man instructions to start
at once and lead my horse slowly so as to prevent him from cooling
off too fast. I mounted Black Bess and now I was on the
homestretch. I did not urge her any for the first few miles until
she commenced sweating freely, after which I commenced to increase
her speed, and fifteen minutes after six I rode up to the
telegraph office and handed my dispatch to the operator, who
started it on the wire at once. I led my mare up and down the
streets to prevent her from cooling off too quick, and when it was
known where I was from, everybody in town had about forty
questions to ask relative to the hanging of the four Modoc braves.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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