THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL by COLONEL HENRY INMAN (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) π
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Turn To The Right Or Left, The Only Thing To Do Was To Make His Animal
Jump It. It Was His Only Chance; It Was Death If He Missed it, And
Death By The Most Horrible Torture If The Indians Captured him.
So He Drove His Heels Into His Horse'S Sides, And Essayed the
Awful Leap. His Willing animal Made A Desperate Effort To Carry Out
The Desire Of His Daring Rider, But The Dizzy Chasm Was Too Wide,
And The Pursuing Savages Saw Both Horse And The Coveted white Man
Dash To The Bottom Of The Frightful Canyon Together. Believing That
Their Hated enemy Had Eluded them Forever, They Rode Back On Their
Trail, Disgusted and Chagrined, Without Even Taking The Trouble Of
Looking Over The Precipice To Learn The Fate Of Baptiste.
The Horse Was Instantly Killed, And The Frenchman Had Both Of His Legs
Badly Broken. Far From Camp, With The Indians In close Proximity,
He Did Not Dare Discharge His Rifle--The Usual Signal When A Trapper
Is Lost Or In danger--Or To Make Any Demonstration, So He Was
Compelled to Lie There And Suffer, Hoping That His Comrades,
Missing Him, Would Start Out To Search For Him. They Did So,
But More Than Twenty-Four Hours Had Elapsed before They Found Him,
As The Bottom Of The Canyon Was The Last Place They Thought Of.
Doctors, In the Wild Region Where Their Camp Was Located, Were As
Impossible As Angels; So His Companions Set His Broken Bones As Well
As They Could, While Baptiste Suffered excruciating Torture.
When They Had Completed their Crude Surgery, They Improvised a Litter
Of Poles, And Rigged it On A Couple Of Pack-Mules, And Thus Carried
Him Around With Them From Camp To Camp Until He Recovered--A Period
Extending Over Three Months.
This Affair Completely Cured baptiste Of His Original Sentimentality
In Relation To The Indian, And He Became One Of Their Worst Haters.
When Acting as A Juror In the Trials Of Rebel Mexicans And Indians,
He Was Asleep Half The Time, And Never Heard Much Of The Evidence,
And That Portion Which He Did Was So Much Greek To Him. In the Last
Nine Cases, In which The Indian Who Had Murdered governor Bent
Was Tried, Baptiste, As Soon As The Jury Room Was Closed, Sang Out:
"Hang 'Em, Hang 'Em, Sacre Enfans Des Garces, Dey Dam Gran Rascale!"
"But Wait," Suggested one Of The Cooler Members; "Let'S Look At The
Evidence And Find Out Whether They Are Really Guilty." Upon This
Wise Caution, Baptiste Got Greatly Excited, Paced the Floor, And
Cried out: "Hang De Indian Anyhow; He May Not Be Guilty Now--Mais He
Vare Soon Will Be. Hang 'Em All, Parceque Dey Kill Monsieur Charles;
Dey Take Son Topknot, Vot You Call Im--Scalp. Hang 'Em, Hang 'Em--
Sa-A-Cre-E!"
On Friday The 9Th, The Day For The Execution, The Sky Was Unspotted,
Save By Hastily Fleeting Clouds; And As The Rising Sun Loomed over
The Taos Mountain, The Bright Rays, Shining On The Yellow And White
Mud-Houses, Reflected cheerful Hues, While The Shades Of The Toppling
Peaks, Receding From The Plain Beneath, Drew Within Themselves.
The Humble Valley Wore An Air Of Calm Repose. The Plaza Was Deserted;
Woe-Begone Burros Drawled forth Sacrilegious Brays, As The Warm
Sunbeams Roused them From Hard, Grassless Ground, To Scent Their
Breakfast Among Straw And Bones.
Poor Mexicans Hurried to And Fro, Casting Suspicious Glances Around;
Los Yankees At El Casa Americano Drank Their Juleps, And Puffed their
Cigarettes In silence.
The Sheriff, Metcalf, Formerly A Mountaineer, Was In want Of The
Wherewithal To Hang The Condemned criminals, So He Borrowed some
Rawhide Lariats And Picket-Ropes Of A Teamster.
"Hello, Met," Said One Of The Party Present, "These Reatas Are Mighty
Stiff--Won'T Fit; Eh, Old Feller?"
"I'Ve Got Something To Make 'Em Fit--Good 'Intment--Don'T Emit Very
Sweet Perfume; But Good Enough For Greasers," Said The Sheriff,
Producing a Dollar'S Worth Of Mexican Soft Soap. "This'Ll Make 'Em
Slip Easy--A Long Ways Too Easy For Them, I 'Spect."
The Prison Apartment Was A Long Chilly Room, Badly Ventilated by
One Small Window And The Open Door, Through Which The Sun Lit Up The
Earth Floor, And Through Which The Poor Prisoners Wistfully Gazed.
Two Muscular Mexicans Basked in its Genial Warmth, A Tattered serape
Interposing Between Them And The Ground. The Ends, Once Fringed but
Now Clear Of Pristine Ornament, Were Partly Drawn Over Their Breasts,
Disclosing In the Openings Of Their Fancifully Colored shirts
--Now Glazed with Filth And Faded with Perspiration--The Bare Skin,
Covered with Straight Black Hair. With Hands Under Their Heads,
In The Mass Of Stringy Locks Rusty-Brown From Neglect, They Returned
The Looks Of Their Executioners With An Unmeaning Stare, And
Unheedingly Received the Salutation Of--"Como Le Va!"
Along The Sides Of The Room, Leaning against The Walls, Were Crowded
The Poor Wretches, Miserable In dress, Miserable In features,
Miserable In feelings--A More Disgusting Collection Of Ragged, Greasy,
Unwashed prisoners Were, Probably, Never Before Congregated within
So Small A Space As The Jail Of Taos.
About Nine O'Clock, Active Preparations Were Made For The Execution,
And The Soldiery Mustered. Reverend Padres In long Black Gowns,
With Meek Countenances, Passed the Sentinels, Intent On Spiritual
Consolation, Or The Administration Of The Blessed sacrament.
Lieutenant-Colonel Willock, Commanding The Military, Ordered every
American Under Arms. The Prison Was At The Edge Of The Town;
No Houses Intervened between It And The Fields To The North.
One Hundred and Fifty Yards Distant, A Gallows Was Erected.
The Word Was Passed, At Last, That The Criminals Were Coming.
Eighteen Soldiers Received them At The Gate, With Their Muskets At
"Port Arms"; The Six Abreast, With The Sheriff On The Right--
Nine Soldiers On Each Side.
The Poor Prisoners Marched slowly, With Downcast Eyes, Arms Tied
Behind, And Bare Heads, With The Exception Of White Cotton Caps
Stuck On The Back, To Be Pulled over The Face As The Last Ceremony.
The Roofs Of The Houses In the Vicinity Were Covered with Women And
Children, To Witness The First Execution By Hanging In the Valley
Of Taos, Save That Of Montojo, The Insurgent Leader. No Men Were
Near; A Few Stood Afar Off, Moodily Looking On.
On The Flat Jail Roof Was Placed a Mountain Howitzer, Loaded and
Ranging The Gallows. Near Was The Complement Of Men To Serve It,
One Holding In his Hand A Lighted match. The Two Hundred and Thirty
Soldiers, Less The Eighteen Forming The Guard, Were Paraded in front
Of The Jail, And In sight Of The Gibbet, So As To Secure The Prisoners
Awaiting Trial. Lieutenant-Colonel Willock, On A Handsome Charger,
Commanded a View Of The Whole.
When Within Fifteen Paces Of The Gallows, The Side-Guard, Filing Off
To The Right, Formed, At Regular Distances From Each Other, Three
Sides Of A Hollow Square; The Mountaineers Composed the Fourth And
Front Side, In full View Of The Trembling Prisoners, Who Marched up To
The Tree Under Which Was A Government Wagon, With Two Mules Attached.
The Driver And Sheriff Assisted them In, Ranging Them On A Board,
Placed across The Hinder End, Which Maintained its Balance, As They
Were Six--An Even Number--Two On Each Extremity, And Two In the Middle.
The Gallows Was So Narrow That They Touched. The Ropes, By Reason
Of Their Size And Stiffness, Despite The Soaping Given Them, Were
Adjusted with Difficulty; But Through The Indefatigable Efforts
Of The Sheriff And A Lieutenant Who Had Accompanied him, All
Preliminaries Were Arranged, Although The Blue Uniform Looked sadly
Out Of Place On A Hangman.
With Rifles At A "Shoulder," The Military Awaited the Consummation
Of The Tragedy. There Was No Crowd Around To Disturb; A Death-Like
Stillness Prevailed. The Spectators On The Roofs Seemed scarcely
To Move--Their Eyes Were Directed to The Doomed wretches, With Harsh
Halters Now Encircling Their Necks.
The Sheriff And His Assistant Sat Down; After A Few Moments Of
Intense Expectation, The Heart-Wrung Victims Said A Few Words To
Their People. Only One Of Them Admitted he Had Committed murder
And Deserved death. In their Brief But Earnest Appeals, The Words
"Mi Padre, Mi Madre"--"My Father, My Mother"--Were Prominent.
The One Sentenced for Treason Showed a Spirit Of Patriotism Worthy
Of The Cause For Which He Died--The Liberty Of His Country; And
Instead Of The Cringing Recantation Of The Others, His Speech Was
A Firm Asseveration Of His Own Innocence, The Unjustness Of His Trial,
And The Arbitrary Conduct Of His Murderers. As The Cap Was Pulled
Over His Face, The Last Words He Uttered between His Teeth With
A Scowl Were "Carajo, Los Americanos!"
At A Word From The Sheriff, The Mules Were Started, And The Wagon
Drawn From Under The Tree. No Fall Was Given, And Their Feet Remained
On The Board Till The Ropes Drew Tight. The Bodies Swayed back And
Forth, And While Thus Swinging, The Hands Of Two Came Together With
A Firm Grasp Till The Muscles Loosened in death.
After Forty Minutes' Suspension, Colonel Willock Ordered his Command
To Quarters, And The Howitzer To Be Taken From Its Place On The Roof
Of The Jail. The Soldiers Were Called away; The Women And Population
In General Collecting around The Rear Guard Which The Sheriff Had
Retained for Protection While Delivering The Dead To Their Weeping
Relatives.
While Cutting a Rope From One Man'S Neck--For It Was In a Hard Knot--
The Owner, A Government Teamster Standing By Waiting, Shouted angrily,
At The Same Time Stepping Forward:
"Hello There! Don'T Cut That Rope; I Won'T Have Anything To Tie
My Mules With."
"Oh! You Darned fool," Interposed a Mountaineer, "The Dead Men'S
Ghosts Will Be After You If You Use Them Lariats--Wagh! They'Ll Make
Meat Of You Sartain."
"Well, I Don'T Care If They Do. I'M In government Service; And If
Them Picket-Halters Was Gone, Slap Down Goes A Dollar Apiece.
Money'S Scarce In these Diggin'S, And I'M Going To Save All I Kin
To Take Home To The Old Woman And Boys."
Chapter IX (First Overland Mail)On The Summit Of One Of The Highest Plateaus Bordering The Missouri
River, Surrounded by A Rich Expanse Of Foliage, Lies Independence,
The Beautiful Residence Suburb Of Kansas City, Only Ten Miles Distant.
Tradition Tells That Early In this Century There Were A Few Pioneers
Camping at Long Distances From Each Other In the Seemingly
Interminable Woods; In summer Engaged in hunting The Deer, Elk, And
Bear, And In winter In trapping. It Is A Well-Known Fact That
The Big Blue Was Once A Favourite Resort Of The Beaver, And That
Even Later Their Presence In great Numbers Attracted many A Veteran
Trapper To Its Waters.
Before That Period The Quaint Old Cities Of Far-Off Mexico Were
Forbidden To Foreign Traders, Excepting To The Favoured few Who Were
Successful In obtaining Permits From The Spanish Government. In 1821,
However, The Rebellion Of Iturbide Crushed the Power Of The Mother
Country, And Established the Freedom Of Mexico. The Embargo Upon
Foreign Trade Was At Once Removed, And The Santa Fe Trail, For Untold
Ages Only A Simple Trace Across The Continent, Became The Busy Highway
Of A Relatively Great Commerce.
In 1817 The Navigation Of The Mississippi River Was Begun. On The 2D
Of August Of That Year The Steamer _General Pike_ Arrived at St. Louis.
The First Boat To Ascend The Missouri River Was The _Independence_;
She Passed franklin On The 28Th Of May, 1819, Where A Dinner Was Given
To Her Officers. In the Same And The Following Month Of That Year,
The Steamers _Western Engineer Expedition_ And _R. M. Johnson_ Came
Along, Carrying Major Long'S Scientific Exploring Party, Bound For
The Yellowstone.
The Santa Fe Trade Having Been Inaugurated shortly After These
Important Events, Those Engaged in it Soon Realized the Benefits
Of River Navigation--For It Enabled them To Shorten The Distance
Which Their Wagons Had To Travel In going across The Plains--And
They Began To Look Out For A Suitable Place As A Shipping and
Outfitting Point Higher Up The River Than Franklin, Which Had Been
The Initial Starting Town.
By 1827 Trading-Posts Had Been Established at Blue Mills, Fort Osage,
And Independence. The First-Mentioned place, Which Is Situated about
Six Miles Below Independence, Soon Became The Favourite Landing,
And The Exchange From Wagons To Boats
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