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
He then asked me if they could get to the head of the ravine that
the Indians were camped on and not be seen by them. I told him
that I could show them a ravine that led from the emigrant trail
to the head of the valley on which they were camped, and marked
out a plat of the country in the dust, showing the course each
company would have to take, telling them that the company making
the upper attack would have to travel about a mile farther than
the one making the attack from below. He then asked me if the
companies could see each other before the Indians could see them.
I informed him that they could not, but that I could show him a
hill where he could station a man and he would be able to see both
companies, but the Indians could not see him, and when the company
from above should reach the top of the hill that man could signal
to the other company to charge.
At that time Lieut. Harding turned to Capt. Mills and said: "If
the boy scout will go with me I will make the upper attack, as he
has been over the country and knows the lay of the ground."
Of course I consented, and we marched to the mouth of the ravine
just mentioned.
I pointed out the hill referred to, and the Lieutenant placed a
man on top of it, and we proceeded.
Just before we reached the top of the other hill, Lieut. Harding
halted and formed his men in line, placing them about ten feet
apart, saying: "I have only a hundred soldiers, but I want it to
appear that I have a thousand."
When we first came in sight of the Indians, some were lying
stretched out in the sun, some were sitting down, while a few were
out looking after their horses, everything indicating that they
had just had their breakfast and were lounging around, not having
the slightest idea of an enemy in twenty miles of them, and we
took them wholly unawares.
When the Lieutenant formed his men in line before raising the top
of the hill, he asked me to take charge of his left wing and he
would take charge of his right. As soon as we came in sight of the
Indians, he gave the order to charge.
This was the first thing of the kind I had ever witnessed, and
when I cast my eyes down the line of soldiers I thought it the
grandest sight I had ever seen. This was also the first engagement
for either of the companies.
In all the scrimmages I had been in with the redskins, the one
that made the most noise was the best Indian fighter; so when the
Lieutenant gave the order to charge, I raised a yell, as I thought
this to be one of the essential points of a charge, and wondered
why the rest of the boys did not do the same. However, after
hearing a few of my whoops they picked it up, and each began
yelling at the top of his voice, and by this time we were among
the Indians.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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