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
After running about two miles, Johnnie West proposed that we make a
stand. We stopped on a little ridge, and did not have to wait long
until the Indians were in gun-shot of us.
"Now, Willie," said Mr. Hughes, "don't get excited and shoot too
quick, but take good aim and be sure that you get your Indian."
As they came up, each of us selected our Indian, fired and each
got his man. In a moment the smoke from our guns had cleared away,
and the whole band being in sight, Mr. Hughes said:
"Let's run for our lives. There are too many of them for us." And
run we did, loading as we flew.
We ran about five miles and made another stand, but not with the
same success as before, for we only got one Indian.
We had a running fight all that day and made three or four stands,
but could not tell how many Indians we killed, for we would fire
at them and then load our guns on the run. They having nothing but
loose arrows and tomahawks, we could easily keep out of danger.
But they figured on running us down.
That evening near sundown, Mr. Hughes asked me, as I was a little
faster on foot than the rest, to drop back far enough to count
them, which I did, and found there were eleven of them still in
pursuit of us.
When they saw me behind the other two they started the war-whoop
and did their best to overtake me, no doubt thinking I was tired
out and that the other two had left me. But they were disappointed
when I ran on and overtook my friends.
We were now in sight of a large body of timber, and Mr. Hughes
thought that if we could reach that by dark we might be able to
dodge the Indians and get away from them.
We reached the timber just at dark and tried very hard to dodge
our pursuers, but it seemed as though they could scent us like
blood-hounds, for we would no more than get stopped and lie down
to rest, when they would be upon us.
A number of times during the night we would build up a fire and
then go a hundred yards or so from it and lie down to rest, but
the redskinned devils kept close to us, and, consequently, we got
but little rest during the night.
The following morning we left the timber and took to the prairie.
After running some four miles we looked back and saw four Indians
very near to us and gaining at every step. Johnnie West proposed
that we stop and accommodate them, saying that he felt hungry and
tired enough to fight any two Indians in the band. So each man
selected his Indian and fired, and we succeeded in killing two of
them; the remaining two hid behind some big rocks until the others
came up and, again we were compelled to flee.
We ran for about two hours, when we stopped and made another fight
and killed two more Indians. This was kept up until late in the
afternoon, which made two days and one night that we had been
chased by these savages, with not a bite to eat during the whole
time, and we were getting so tired that we could scarcely raise
the trot.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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