THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL by COLONEL HENRY INMAN (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📕

Belt, And Another Of The "Boys In blue" Had

Joined the Majority.

 

 

 

The Scouting-Party Had Proceeded about Four Or Five Miles, When One

Of The Corporals Asked permission For Himself And A Recruit To Go

Over To The Upper Walnut To Find Out Whether They Could Discover

Any Signs Of Indians.

 

 

 

While They Were Carelessly Riding along The Big Curve Which The

Northern Branch Of The Walnut Makes At That Point, There Suddenly

Sprang From Their Ambush In the Timber On The Margin Of The Stream

About Three Hundred indians, Whooping and Yelling.  The Two Troopers

Of Course, Immediately Whirled their Horses And Started down The

Creek Toward The Camp, Hotly Pursued by The Howling Savages.

 

 

 

The Corporal Was An Excellent Rider; A Well-Trained and Disciplined

Soldier, Having Seen Much Service On The Plains.  He Led in the Flight,

Closely Followed by The Unfortunate Recruit, Who Had Been Enlisted

But A Short Time.  Not More Than An Eighth Of A Mile Had Been Covered,

When The Corporal Heard His Companion Exclaim,--

 

 

 

"Don'T Leave Me!  Don'T Leave Me!"

 

 

 

Looking Back, The Corporal Saw That The Poor Recruit Was Losing Ground

Rapidly; His Horse Was Rearing and Plunging, Making Very Little

Headway, While His Rider Was Jerking and Pulling On The Bit, A Curb

Of The Severest Kind.  Perceiving The Strait His Comrade Was In,

The Corporal Reined up For A Moment And Called out,--

 

 

 

"Let Him Go!  Let Him Go!  Don'T Jerk On The Bit So!"

 

 

 

The Indians Were Gaining Ground Rapidly, And In another Moment The

Corporal Heard The Recruit Again Cry Out,--

 

 

 

"Oh!  Don'T--"

 

 

 

Realizing That It Would Be Fatal To Delay, And That He Could Be Of

No Assistance To His Companion, Already Killed and Scalped, He Leaned

Forward On His Horse, And Sinking His Spurs Deep In the Animal'S

Flanks Fairly Flew Down The Valley, With The Three Hundred savages

Close In his Wake.

 

 

 

The Officers At The Camp Were Sitting In their Tents When The Sentinel

On Post No. 1 Fired his Piece, Upon Which All Rushed out To Learn

The Cause Of The Alarm; For There Was No Random Shooting In those

Days Allowed around Camp Or In garrison.  Looking Up The Valley Of

The Walnut, They Could See The Lucky Corporal, With His Long Hair

Streaming In the Wind, And His Heels Rapping His Horse'S Sides, As He

Dashed over The Brown Sod Of The Winter Prairie.

 

 

 

The Corporal Now Slackened his Pace, Rode Up To The Commanding

Officer'S Tent, Reported the Affair, And Then Was Allowed to Go To

His Own Quarters For The Rest He So Much Needed.

 

 

 

Captain Conkey Immediately Ordered a Mounted squad, Accompanied by An

Ambulance, To Go Up The Creek To Recover The Body Of The Unfortunate

Recruit.  The Party Were Absent A Little Over An Hour, And Brought

Back With Them The Remains Of The Dead Soldier.  He Had Been Shot

With An Arrow, The Point Of Which Was Still Sticking Out Through His

Breast-Bone.  His Scalp Had Been Torn Completely Off, And The Lapels

Of His Coat And The Legs Of His Trousers Carried away By The Savages.

He Was Buried the Next Morning With Military Honours, In the Little

Graveyard On The Bank Of The Walnut, Where His Body Still Rests In

The Dooryard Of The Ranch.

Chapter XXIII (Hancock'S Expedition)

In The Spring Of 1867, General Hancock, Who Then Commanded the Military

Division Of The Missouri, With Headquarters At Fort Leavenworth,

Kansas, Organized an Expedition Against The Indians Of The Great

Plains, Which He Led in person.  With Him Was General Custer, Second

Ranking Officer, From Whom I Quote The Story Of The March And Some

Of The Incidents Of The Raid.

 

 

 

General Hancock, With The Artillery And Six Companies Of Infantry,

Arrived at Fort Riley, Kansas, The Last Week In march, Where He Was

Joined by Four Companies Of The Seventh Cavalry, Commanded by The

Intrepid Custer.

 

 

 

From Fort Riley The Expedition Marched to Fort Harker, Seventy-Two

Miles Farther West, On The Smoky Hill, Where The Force Was Increased

By The Addition Of Two More Troops Of Cavalry.  Remaining There Only

Long Enough To Replenish Their Commissary Supplies, The March Was

Directed to Fort Larned on The Old Santa Fe Trail.  On The 7Th Of

April The Command Reached the Latter Post, Accompanied by The Agent

Of The Comanches And Kiowas; At The Fort The Agent Of The Cheyennes,

Arapahoes, And Apaches Was Waiting For The Arrival Of The General.

The Agent Of The Three Last-Mentioned tribes Had Already Sent Runners

To The Head Chiefs, Inviting Them To A Grand Council Which Was To

Assemble Near The Fort On The 10Th Of The Month, And He Requested

General Hancock To Remain At The Fort With His Command Until That Date.

 

 

 

On The 9Th Of April A Terrible Snow-Storm Came On While The Troops

Were Encamped waiting For The Head Men Of The Various Tribes To Arrive.

Custer Says:

 

 

 

          It Was Our Good Fortune To Be In camp Rather Than On The

          March; Had It Been Otherwise, We Could Not Well Have Escaped

          Without Loss Of Life.  The Cavalry Horses Suffered severely,

          And Were Only Preserved by Doubling Their Rations Of Oats,

          While To Prevent Their Being Frozen During The Intensely

          Cold Night Which Followed, The Guards Were Instructed to

          Pass Along The Picket Lines With A Whip, And Keep The

          Horses Moving Constantly.  The Snow Was Eight Inches Deep.

          The Council, Which Was To Take Place The Next Day, Had To Be

          Postponed until The Return Of Good Weather.  Now Began The

          Display Of A Kind Of Diplomacy For Which The Indian Is

          Peculiar.  The Cheyennes And A Band Of Sioux Were Encamped

          On Pawnee Fork, About Thirty Miles Above Fort Larned.

          They Neither Desired to Move Nearer To Us Or Have Us

          Approach Nearer To Them.  On The Morning Of The 11Th,

          They Sent Us Word That They Had Started to Visit Us, But,

          Discovering a Large Herd Of Buffalo Near Their Camp,

          They Had Stopped to Procure A Supply Of Meat.  This Message

          Was Not Received with Much Confidence, Nor Was A Buffalo

          Hunt Deemed of Sufficient Importance To Justify The Indians

          In breaking Their Engagement.  General Hancock Decided,

          However, To Delay Another Day, When, If The Indians Still

          Failed to Come In, He Would Move His Command To The Vicinity

          Of Their Village And Hold The Conference There.

 

 

 

          Orders Were Issued on The Evening Of The 12Th For The March

          To Be Resumed on The Following Day.  Late In the Evening

          Two Chiefs Of The "Dog-Soldiers," A Band Composed of The

          Most Warlike And Troublesome Indians On The Plains,

          Chiefly Made Up Of Cheyennes, Visited our Camp.  They Were

          Accompanied by A Dozen Warriors, And Expressed a Desire To

          Hold A Conference With General Hancock, To Which He Assented.

          A Large Council-Fire Was Built In front Of The General'S

          Tent, And All The Officers Of His Command Assembled there.

          A Tent Had Been Erected for The Accommodation Of The Chiefs

          A Short Distance From The General'S.  Before They Could

          Feel Equal To The Occasion, And In order To Obtain Time To

          Collect Their Thoughts, They Desired that Supper Might Be

          Prepared for Them, Which Was Done.  When Finally Ready,

          They Advanced from Their Tent To The Council-Fire In single

          File, Accompanied by Their Agent And An Interpreter.

          Arrived at The Fire, Another Brief Delay Ensued.  No Matter

          How Pressing Or Momentous The Occasion, An Indian Invariably

          Declines To Engage In a Council Until He Has Filled his Pipe

          And Gone Through With The Important Ceremony Of A Smoke.

          This Attended to, The Chiefs Announced that They Were Ready

          "To Talk."  They Were Then Introduced to The Principal

          Officers Of The Group, And Seemed much Struck With The

          Flashy Uniforms Of The Few Artillery Officers, Who Were

          Present In all The Glory Of Red horsehair Plumes,

          Aiguillettes, Etc.  The Chiefs Seemed puzzled to Determine

          Whether These Insignia Designated chieftains Or Medicine Men.

          General Hancock Began The Conference By A Speech, In which

          He Explained to The Indians His Purpose In coming To See

          Them, And What He Expected of Them In the Future.

          He Particularly Informed them That He Was Not There To Make

          War, But To Promote Peace.  Then, Expressing His Regrets

          That More Of The Chiefs Had Not Visited him, He Announced

          His Intention Of Proceeding On The Morrow With His Command

          To The Vicinity Of Their Village, And There Holding a

          Council With All The Chiefs.  Tall Bull, A Fine, Warlike-Looking

          Chieftain, Replied to General Hancock, But His Speech

          Contained nothing Important, Being Made Up Of Allusions To

          The Growing Scarcity Of The Buffalo, His Love For The White

          Man, And The Usual Hint That A Donation In the Way Of

          Refreshments Would Be Highly Acceptable; He Added that He

          Would Have Nothing New To Say At The Village.

 

 

 

          Rightly Concluding That The Indians Did Not Intend To Come

          To Our Camp, As They Had At First Agreed to, It Was Decided

          To Move Nearer Their Village.  On The Morning Following The

          Conference Our Entire Force, Therefore, Marched from

          Fort Larned up Pawnee Fork In the Direction Of The Main

          Village, Encamping The First Night About Twenty-One Miles

          From Larned.  Several Parties Of Indians Were Seen In our

          Advance During The Day, Evidently Watching Our Movements,

          While A Heavy Smoke, Seen To Rise In the Direction Of The

          Indian Village, Indicated that Something More Than Usual

          Was Going On.  The Smoke, We Afterward Learned, Arose From

          Burning Grass.  The Indians, Thinking To Prevent Us From

          Encamping In their Vicinity, Had Set Fire To And Burned all

          The Grass For Miles In the Direction From Which They

          Expected us.  Before We Arrived at Our Camping-Ground,

          We Were Met By Several Chiefs And Warriors Belonging To The

          Cheyennes And Sioux.  Among The Chiefs Were Pawnee Killer,

          Of The Sioux, And White Horse, Of The Cheyennes.  It Was

          Arranged that These Chiefs Should Accept Our Hospitality

          And Remain With Us During The Night, And In the Morning all

          The Chiefs Of The Two Tribes Then In the Village Were To

          Come To General Hancock'S Head-Quarters And Hold A Council.

          On The Morning Of The 14Th, Pawnee Killer Left Our Camp At

          An Early Hour, As He Said For The Purpose Of Going To The

          Village To Bring In the Other Chiefs To The Council.

          Nine O'Clock Had Been Agreed upon As The Time At Which The

          Council Should Assemble.  The Hour Came, But The Chiefs

          Did Not.  Now An Indian Council Is Not Only Often An

          Important, But Always An Interesting, Occasion.  At This

          Juncture, Bull Bear, An Influential Chief Among The

          Cheyennes, Came In and Reported that The Chiefs Were On

          Their Way To Our Camp, But Would Not Be Able To Reach It

          For Some Time.  This Was A Mere Artifice To Secure Delay.

          General Hancock Informed bull Bear That, As The Chiefs

          Could Not Arrive For Some Time, He Would Move His Forces

          Up The Stream Nearer The Village, And The Council Could Be

          Held At Our Camp That Night.  To This Proposition Bull Bear

          Gave His Consent.

 

 

 

          At 11 A.M. We Resumed the March, And Had Proceeded but A Few

          Miles When We Witnessed one Of The Finest And Most Imposing

          Military Displays, According To The Indian Art Of War,

          Which It Has Been My Lot To Behold.  It Was Nothing More

          Nor Less Than An Indian Line Of Battle Drawn Directly

          Across Our Line Of March, As If To Say, "Thus Far And No

          Further."  Most Of The Indians Were Mounted; All Were

          Bedecked in their Brightest Colours, Their Heads Crowned

          With The Brilliant War-Bonnet, Their Lances Bearing