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
I now mounted Mexico and rode as fast as I could, not directly
after them, but as near as I could to keep out of their sight; and
at the same time I felt confident that should they discover me,
that there was not an Indian pony in that whole country that could
catch Mexico, either in a short or long distance.
After riding some five miles or so, I dismounted and tied my horse
to a sagebrush, and climbed to the top of the highest hill between
me and where I supposed them to be. I discovered them about a mile
away, and they were just leaving the trail, riding up a ravine
that led to the north. They dismounted and put their ponies out to
grass. There also appeared to be a little meadow where they
stopped, and I concluded there must be water there, too. I took in
the situation at a glance and could see that I would have to ride
a long distance to get near them. Just immediately beyond them was
a little hill that sloped off down to the meadow on which they
were camped, but in any other direction a person could not ride
without being discovered.
I went back to my horse, mounted and took a circuit of about ten
miles, having to travel that distance in order to keep out of
their sight. Coming in from the north, I rode almost to the top of
the hill; here I dismounted, tied my horse, crawled to the top of
the hill, and on looking down could see them almost under me, the
hill was so small and steep. They were busily engaged in skinning
a jack-rabbit, and about that time I felt as though I could eat a
hind quarter of it myself if it had been cooked; for I had been
too busily engaged that day to stop and eat a lunch.
Here I lay in the sagebrush trying to devise some plan by which I
could do away with them and capture their horses.
It was now about four o'clock in the afternoon, and this being
about twenty miles from headquarters, I would not have time to
ride there and return with soldiers before they wold break camp in
the morning.
For me to attack them alone looked like a big undertaking.
There being a little grass for their horses, I now concluded they
would remain until morning. So I crept back to where my horse was
tied, took out my lunch and sat down and ate it, at the same time
debating in my mind the best course to pursue.
I remembered what Col. Elliott had told Jim, that he did not have
a scout that dared go fifteen miles from camp and now if I should
return to camp and report what I had seen, he would start soldiers
out, and by the time they could reach the ground the Indians would
be gone, and there would be nothing accomplished, consequently I
would, no doubt, be classed with the balance of the scouts in the
opinion of the Colonel. While on the other hand, should I be
successful in laying a plan by which I could do away with the
Indians and take their scalps to headquarters as evidence of my
work, it would give me a reputation as a scout.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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