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
It was yet so light that I could get a good view of the
surrounding country, and about three miles from the Indians' camp
I could see the highest hill anywhere around. I decided at once
that if I were on that high hill I could see every move of the
Indians, besides I could look up the Humboldt and see the
soldiers, or at least the dust raised by them, while they were yet
a long way off.
This peak lay north of the trail, and the trail ran east and west.
As soon as it was dark I mounted my horse and rode to the peak and
tied him to a sagebrush in a sinkhole, that looked as though it
might have been put there on purpose, for my horse was hidden from
every direction.
I now went to the top of the hill, and there being a dense growth
of sagebrush, I was perfectly safe from discovery when daylight
should come.
I did not have to wait long after daylight, for just as the sun
was creeping up over the hill and shedding its rays on the little
valley where the two hundred braves had had such a pleasant
night's rest, dreaming, perhaps, of emigrants, horses, provisions
and other stuff that they would probably capture the following
day, I looked up the Humboldt and saw the two companies of cavalry
coming.
The Indians seemed in no hurry to leave, and were perhaps waiting
for the five scouts to return and report, never thinking that they
had been killed and scalped, and that the same paleface who did
the deed was then watching their every movement and laying plans
for their destruction.
I got my horse in about a minute, mounted and rode across the
country to meet the cavalry, taking a route so that I would not be
seen by the Indians.
I met the soldiers--who were commanded by Capt. Mills and Lieut.
Harding--about four miles from the Indian camp, and they came to a
halt.
I told them about the number I thought there were in the Indian
band and the lay of the country, as nearly as I could. The Captain
and Lieutenant stepped to one side and held a council, and after
talking the matter over they called me and said they had about
decided to attack the enemy from both above and below at the same
time, and, as I had seen the ground, they asked my opinion in the
matter. I told them I thought it an excellent plan, and then Capt.
Mills turned to Lieut. Harding and said: "Which do you prefer, to
make the upper or lower attack? Take your choice."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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