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
We had plenty of shelter in case of storm, having two good-sized
tents in the outfit and only six men, not counting the darkey
cook, who, however, always does count in an expedition like that.
In the party I was the only one who had ever hunted any. Three of
the others had never fired a shot at larger game than a jack-
rabbit. Col. Elliott had once killed a deer, of which I made
mention in a preceding chapter.
The following morning after breakfast I told them to select their
course for the day's hunting, and I would go in an opposite
direction.
"Why do you wish to go in an opposite direction?" Lieut. Harding
asked; "Why not all go together?" I replied that after we got out
in the woods I did not think they could tell a man from a deer,
and I did not want to be shot by a white man out here in this
country.
Capt. Mills proposed that three go at a time, two officers and
myself, by so doing there would be no danger.
This being satisfactory, Lieut. Harding, Capt. Mills and myself
took the first turn. Neither of them had ever hunted any, and both
were as ignorant in that line as I was when I started out from St
Louis in company with Uncle Kit Carson, which, by the way, I had
told them something about the night before, while sitting around
the campfire.
When we were all ready for the hunt and had started to walk away
from the tent, Capt. Mills requested the Colonel to have the
horses in readiness to pack the deer in. We had not gone far until
I asked them if they could not walk without making so much noise.
Lieut. Harding said he did not see what difference it made how a
person walked, and I had to stop and explain matters by telling
them that a deer depended as much on his ears as he did on his
eyes, and if we did not walk easier the deer would hear us before
we could get sight of them, and it seemed to me that they had
stepped on every stick along our way and had rubbed against every
brush that we passed near. Having been trained to hunt since a boy
of fifteen years old, it became second nature for me to slide
along without making a particle of noise.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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