THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL - COLONEL HENRY INMAN (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📗
- Author: COLONEL HENRY INMAN
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Four Hundred miles. Early One Morning When That Distance Had Been
Rounded, And Just As The Men Were About To Break Camp Preparatory
To The Day'S March, Carson Went Out On A Little Reconnoissance On His
Own Account, As He Had Noticed a Flock Of Ravens Hovering In the Air
When He First Got Out Of His Blankets At Dawn, Which Was Sufficient
Indication To Him That An Indian Camp Was Located somewhere In the
Vicinity; For That Ominous Bird Is Always To Be Found In the Region
Where The Savages Take Up An Abode, Feeding Upon The Carcasses Of
The Many Varieties Of Game Killed for Food. He Had Not Proceeded
More Than Half A Mile From The Camp When He Discovered two Indians
Slowly Riding Over A Low "Divide," Driving a Herd Of Ponies Before
Them. The Famous Scout Was Then Certain Their Village Could Not
Be Very Far Away. The Savages Did Not Observe Him, As He Took Good
Care They Should Not; So He Returned quickly To Where Major Greer
Was Standing By His Camp-Fire And Reported the Presence Of A Village
Very Close At Hand.
The Major Having Sent For Tom Tobin And Uncle Dick Wooton, Requested
Them To Go And Find The Exact Location Of The Savages. These Scouts
Came Back In less Than Half An Hour, And Reported a Large Number
Of Teepees In a Thick Grove Of Timber A Mile Away.
It Was At Once Determined to Surprise The Savages In their Winter
Quarters By Charging Right Among Their Lodges Without Allowing Them
Time To Mount Their Ponies, As The Gallant Custer Rode, At The Head
Of His Famous Troopers Of The Seventh Cavalry, Into The Camp Of The
Celebrated chief "Black Kettle" On The Washita, In the Dawn Of A
Cold November Morning Twenty Years Afterward.
The Command Succeeded in getting Within Good Charging Distance Of The
Village Without Its Occupants Having any Knowledge Of Its Proximity;
But At This Moment Major Greer Was Seized with An Idea That He Ought
To Have A Parley With The Indians Before He Commenced to Fight Them,
And For That Purpose He Ordered a Halt, Just As The Soldiers Were
Eager For The Sound Of The "Charge!"
Never Were A Body Of Men More Enraged. Carson Gave Vent To His Wrath
In A Series Of Elaborately Carved english Oaths, For Which He Was
Noted when Young; Leroux, Whose Naturally Hot Blood Was Roused,
Swore At The Major In a Curious Mixture Of Bad French And Worse
Mountain Dialect, And It Appeared as If The Battle Would Begin In the
Ranks Of The Troops Instead Of Those Of The Savages; For Never Was
A Body Of Soldiers So Disgusted at The Act Of Any Commanding Officer.
This Delay Gave The Indians, Who Could Be Seen Dodging about Among
Their Lodges And Preparing For A Fight That Was No Longer A Surprise,
Time To Hide Their Women And Children, Mount Their Ponies, And Get
Down Into Deep Ravines, Where The Soldiers Could Not Follow Them.
While The Major Was Trying To Convince His Subordinates That His
Course Was The Proper One, The Indians Opened fire Without Any Parley,
And It Happened that At The First Volley A Bullet Struck Him In the
Breast, But A Suspender Buckle Deflected its Course And He Was Not
Seriously Wounded.
The Change In the Countenance Of Their Commanding Officer Caused by
The Momentary Pain Was Just The Incentive The Troopers Wanted, And
Without Waiting For The Sound Of The Trumpet, They Spurred their
Horses, Dashed in, And Charged the Thunderstruck Savages With The
Shock Of A Tornado.
In Two Successful Charges Of The Gallant And Impatient Troopers More
Than A Hundred of The Indians Were Killed and Wounded, But The Time
Lost Had Permitted many To Escape, And The Pursuit Of The Stragglers
Would Have Been Unavailing Under The Circumstances; So The Command
Turned back And Returned to Taos. In the Village Was Found The Body
Of Mrs. White Still Warm, With Three Arrows In her Breast. Had The
Charge Been Made As Originally Expected by The Troopers, Her Life
Would Have Been Saved. No Trace Of The Child Or Of The Coloured
Nurse Was Ever Discovered, And It Is Probable That They Were Both
Killed while En Route From The Canyon To The Village, As Being
Valueless To Keep Either As Slaves Or For Other Purposes.
The Fate Of The Apache Chief, "White Wolf," Who Was The Leader In
The Outrages In the Canyon Of The Canadian, Was Fitting For His
Devilish Deeds. It Was Lieutenant David Bell'S Fortune To Avenge
The Murder Of Mrs. White And Her Family, And In an Extraordinary
Manner.[32] The Action Was Really Dramatic, Or Romantic; He Was
On A Scout With His Company, Which Was Stationed at Fort Union,
New Mexico, Having about Thirty Men With Him, And When Near The Canyon
Of The Canadian They Met About The Same Number Of Indians. A Parley
Was In order At Once, Probably Desired by The Savages, Who Were
Confronted with An Equal Number Of Troopers. Bell Had Assigned
The Baggage-Mules To The Care Of Five Or Six Of His Command, And Held
A Mounted interview With The Chief, Who Was No Other Than The Infamous
White Wolf Of The Jicarilla Apaches. As Bell Approached, White Wolf
Was Standing In front Of His Indians, Who Were On Foot, All Well Armed
And In perfect Line. Bell Was In advance Of His Troopers, Who Were
About Twenty Paces From The Indians, Exactly Equal In number And
Extent Of Line; Both Parties Were Prepared to Use Firearms.
The Parley Was Almost Tediously Long And The Impending Duel Was
Arranged, White Wolf Being Very Bold And Defiant.
At Last The Leaders Exchanged shots, The Chief Sinking On One Knee
And Aiming His Gun, Bell Throwing His Body Forward And Making His
Horse Rear. Both Lines, By Command, Fired, Following The Example
Of Their Superiors, The Troopers, However, Spurring Forward Over
Their Enemies. The Warriors, Or Nearly All Of Them, Threw Themselves
On The Ground, And Several Vertical Wounds Were Received by Horse
And Rider. The Dragoons Turned short About, And Again Charged through
And Over Their Enemies, The Fire Being Continuous. As They Turned
For A Third Charge, The Surviving Indians Were Seen Escaping To A
Deep Ravine, Which, Although Only One Or Two Hundred paces Off,
Had Not Previously Been Noticed. A Number Of The Savages Thus
Escaped, The Troopers Having To Pull Up At The Brink, But Sending
A Volley After The Descending Fugitives.
In Less Than Fifteen Minutes Twenty-One Of The Forty-Six Actors In
This Strange Combat Were Slain Or Disabled. Bell Was Not Hit, But
Four Or Five Of His Men Were Killed or Wounded. He Had Shot
White Wolf Several Times, And So Did Others After Him; But So
Tenacious Of Life Was The Apache That, To Finish Him, A Trooper
Got A Great Stone And Mashed his Head.
This Was Undoubtedly The Greatest Duel Of Modern Times; Certainly
Nothing Like It Ever Occurred on The Santa Fe Trail Before Or Since.
The War Chief Of The Kiowa Nation In the Early '50'S Was Satank,
A Most Unmitigated villain; Cruel And Heartless As Any Savage That
Ever Robbed a Stage-Coach Or Wrenched off The Hair Of A Helpless Woman.
After Serving a Dozen Or More Years With A Record For Hellish
Atrocities Equalled by Few Of His Compeers, He Was Deposed for Alleged
Cowardice, As His Warriors Claimed, Under The Following Circumstances:--
The Village Of His Tribe Was Established in the Large Bottoms,
Eight Miles From The Great Bend Of The Arkansas, And About The Same
Distance From Fort Zarah.[33] All The Bucks Were Absent On A Hunting
Expedition, Excepting Satank And A Few Superannuated warriors.
The Troops Were Out From Fort Larned on A Grand Scout After Marauding
Savages, When They Suddenly Came Across The Village And Completely
Took The Kiowas By Surprise. Seeing The Soldiers Almost Upon Them,
Satank And Other Warriors Jumped on Their Ponies And Made Good Their
Escape. Had They Remained, All Of Them Would Have Been Killed or
At Least Captured; Consequently Satank, Thinking Discretion Better
Than Valour At That Particular Juncture, Incontinently Fled.
His Warriors In council, However, Did Not Agree With Him; They Thought
That It Was His Duty To Have Remained at The Village In defence Of
The Women And Children, As He Had Been Urged to Refrain From Going On
The Hunt For That Very Purpose.
Some Time Before Satank Lost His Office Of Chief, There Was Living
On Cow Creek, In a Rude Adobe Building, A Man Who Was Ostensibly
An Indian Trader, But Whose Traffic, In reality, Consisted in selling
Whiskey To The Indians, And Consequently The United states Troops
Were Always After Him. He Was Obliged to Cache His Liquor In every
Conceivable Manner So That The Soldiers Should Not Discover It, And,
Of Course, He Dreaded the Incursions Of The Troops Much More Than
He Did Raids Of The Indian Marauders That Were Constantly On The Trail.
Satank And This Illicit Trader, Whose Name Was Peacock, Were Great
Chums. One Day While They Were Indulging In a General Good Time
Over Sundry Drinks Of Most Villanous Liquor, Satank Said To Peacock:
"Peacock, I Want You To Write Me A Letter; A Real Nice One, That
I Can Show To The Wagon-Bosses On The Trail, And Get All The 'Chuck'
I Want. Tell Them I Am Satank, The Great Chief Of The Kiowas, And
For Them To Treat Me The Best They Know How."
"All Right, Satank," Said Peacock; "I'Ll Do So." Peacock Then Sat
Down And Wrote The Following Epistle:--
"The Bearer Of This Is Satank. He Is The Biggest Liar, Beggar, And
Thief On The Plains. What He Can'T Beg Of You, He'Ll Steal. Kick Him
Out Of Camp, For He Is A Lazy, Good-For-Nothing Indian."
Satank Began At Once To Make Use Of The Supposed precious Document,
Which He Really Believed would Assure Him The Dignified treatment
And Courtesy Due To His Exalted rank. He Presented it To Several
Caravans During The Ensuing Week, And, Of Course, Received a Very
Cool Reception In every Instance, Or Rather A Very Warm One.
One Wagon-Master, In fact, Black-Snaked him Out Of His Camp.
After These Repeated insults He Sought Another White Friend, And
Told Of His Grievances. "Look Here," Said Satank, "I Asked peacock
To Write Me A Good Letter, And He Gave Me This; But I Don'T
Understand It! Every Time I Hand It To A Wagon-Boss, He Gives Me
The Devil! Read It To Me And Tell Me Just What It Does Say."
His Friend Read It Over, And Then Translated it Literally To Satank.
The Savage Assumed a Countenance Of Extreme Disgust, And After Musing
For A Few Moments, Said: "Well, I Understand It All Now. All Right!"
The Next Morning at Daylight, Satank Called for Some Of His Braves
And With Them Rode Out To Peacock'S Ranch. Arriving There, He Called
Out To Peacock, Who Had Not Yet Risen: "Peacock, Get Up, The Soldiers
Are Coming!" It Was A Warning Which The Illicit Trader Quickly
Obeyed, And Running Out Of The Building With His Field-Glass In his
Hand, He Started for His Lookout, But While He Was Ascending The
Ladder With His Back To Satank The Latter Shot Him Full Of Holes,
Saying, As He Did So: "There, Peacock, I Guess You Won'T Write Any
More Letters."
His Warriors Then Entered the Building and Killed every Man In it,
Save One Who Had Been Gored by A Buffalo Bull The Day Before, And
Who Was Lying In a Room All By Himself. He Was Saved by The Fact
That The Indian Has A Holy Dread Of Small-Pox, And Will Never Enter
An Apartment Where Sick Men Lie, Fearing They May Have The Awful
Disease.
Satanta (White Bear) Was The Most Efficient And Dreaded chief Of All
Who Have Ever Been At The Head Of The Kiowa Nation. Ever Restlessly
Active In ordering Or Conducting Merciless Forays Against An Exposed
Frontier, He Was The Very Incarnation Of Deviltry In his Determined
Hatred of The Whites, And His Constant Warfare Against Civilization.
He Also Possessed wonderful Oratorical Powers; He Could Hurl The Most
Violent Invectives At Those Whom He Argued with, Or He Could Be
Equally Pathetic When Necessary. He Was Justly Called "The Orator Of
The Plains," Rivalling The Historical Renown Of Tecumseh Or Pontiac.
He Was A Short, Bullet-Headed indian, Full Of Courage And Well Versed
In Strategy. Ordinarily, When On His Visits To The Various Military
Posts He Wore A Major-General'S Full Uniform, A Suit Of That Rank
Having Been Given To Him In the Summer Of 1866 By General Hancock.
He Also Owned an Ambulance, A Team Of Mules, And A Set Of Harness,
The Last Stolen, Maybe, From Some Caravan He Had Raided on The Trail.
In That Ambulance, With A Trained indian Driver, The Wily Chief
Travelled, Wrapped in a Savage Dignity That Was Truly Laughable.
In His
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