THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL - COLONEL HENRY INMAN (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📗
- Author: COLONEL HENRY INMAN
Book online «THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL - COLONEL HENRY INMAN (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📗». Author COLONEL HENRY INMAN
For The Place We'D Left Our Companions. We Met Them Coming Slowly
On 'Bout Two Miles From The Ingin Camp, And Telling 'Em What Was Up
We Started to Help The Trappers What The Devils Was Agoing To Burn.
We Wasn'T Half So Long In getting at The Camp As Ike And Me Was
In Going, And We Soon Come Within Good Range For Our Rifles.
"The Ingins Was Still Unsuspicious, And We Spread Ourselves In a
Sort Of Half Circle So As To Kind O' Surround Them, And At A Signal
I Give, Seven Rifles Cracked at Once, And As Many Of The Injins Was
Dropped right In their Tracks; A Second Volley, For The Red devils
Had Not Got Their Senses Yet, Tumbled seven More Corpses Upon The
Pile, And Then We White Men Jumped in with Our Knives And Clubbed
Rifles, And There Was A Lively Scrimmage For A Few Minutes. The Few
Ingins What Wasn'T Killed fought Like Devils, But As We Was Getting
The Best Of 'Em Every Second They Turned tail And Ran.
"We'D Heard The Firing Of The Fight At The Cabin Just In time; And
As We Cut The Rawhide Strings That Bound The Fellows To The Trees,
Ike, Who Was A Right Fine Shot And Had Killed three At One Time,
Said: 'I Always Like To Get Two Or Three Of The Red devils In a Line
Before I Pull The Trigger; It Saves Lead.'
"Then We All Went Back To Our Camp And Made A Night Of It, Feasting
On The Elk We Had Killed, And Talking Over The Wonderful Escape Of
The Boys And Little Rube."
Chapter XVI (Kit Carson)Of The Famous Men Whose Lives Are So Interwoven With The History
Of The Old Santa Fe Trail That The Story Of The Great Highway Is
Largely Made Up Of Their Individual Exploits And Acts Of Bravery,
It Has Been My Fortune To Have Known Nearly All Intimately, During
More Than A Third Of A Century Passed on The Great Plains And In
The Rocky Mountains.
First Of All, Christopher, Or Kit, Carson, As He Is Familiarly Known
To The World, Stands At The Head And Front Of Celebrated frontiersmen,
Trappers, Scouts, Guides, And Indian Fighters.
I Knew Him Well Through A Series Of Years, To The Date Of His Death
In 1868, But I Shall Confine Myself To The Events Of His Remarkable
Career Along The Line Of The Trail And Its Immediate Environs.
In 1826 A Party Of Santa Fe Traders Passing Near His Father'S Home
In Howard County, Missouri, Young Kit, Who Was Then But Seventeen
Years Old, Joined the Caravan As Hunter. He Was Already An Expert
With The Rifle, And Thus Commenced his Life Of Adventure On The
Great Plains And In the Rocky Mountains.
His First Exhibition Of That Nerve And Coolness In the Presence Of
Danger Which Marked his Whole Life Was In this Initial Trip Across
The Plains. When The Caravan Had Arrived at The Arkansas River,
Somewhere In the Vicinity Of The Great Bend Of That Stream, One Of
The Teamsters, While Carelessly Pulling His Rifle Toward Him By The
Barrel, Discharged the Weapon And Received the Ball In his Arm,
Completely Crushing The Bones. The Blood From The Wound Flowed so
Copiously That He Nearly Lost His Life Before It Could Be Arrested.
He Was Fixed up, However, And The Caravan Proceeded on Its Journey,
The Man Thinking No More Seriously Of His Injured arm. In a Few Days,
However, The Wound Began To Indicate That Gangrene Had Set In, And
It Was Determined that Only By An Amputation Was It Possible For Him
To Live Beyond A Few Days. Every One Of The Older Men Of The Caravan
Positively Declined to Attempt The Operation, As There Were No
Instruments Of Any Kind. At This Juncture Kit, Realizing The Extreme
Necessity Of Prompt Action, Stepped forward And Offered to Do The Job.
He Told The Unfortunate Sufferer That He Had Had No Experience In
Such Matters, But That As No One Else Would Do It, He Would Take
The Chances. All The Tools That Kit Could Find Were A Razor, A Saw,
And The King-Bolt Of A Wagon. He Cut The Flesh With The Razor,
Sawed through The Bone As If It Had Been A Piece Of Joist, And Seared
The Horrible Wound With The King-Bolt, Which He Had Heated to A
White Glow, For The Purpose Of Stopping The Flow Of Blood That
Naturally Followed such Rude Surgery. The Operation Was A Complete
Success; The Man Lived many Years Afterward, And Was With His Surgeon
In Many An Expedition.
In The Early Days Of The Commerce Of The Prairies, Carson Was The
Hunter At Bent'S Fort For A Period Of Eight Years. There Were About
Forty Men Employed at The Place; And When The Game Was Found In
Abundance In the Mountains, It Was A Relatively Easy Task And Just
Suited to His Love Of Sport, But When It Grew Scarce, As It Often
Did, His Prowess Was Tasked to Its Utmost To Keep The Forty Mouths
From Crying For Food. He Became Such An Unerring Shot With The
Rifle During That Time That He Was Called the "Nestor Of The Rocky
Mountains." His Favourite Game Was The Buffalo, Although He Killed
Countless Numbers Of Other Animals.
All Of The Plains Tribes Of Indians, As Did The Powerful Utes Of
The Mountains, Knew Him Well; For He Had Often Visited in their
Camps, Sat In their Lodges, Smoked the Pipe, And Played with Their
Little Boys. The Latter Fact May Not Appear Of Much Consequence,
But There Are No People On Earth Who Have A Greater Love For Their
Boy Children Than The Savages Of America. The Indians All Feared
Him, Too, At The Same Time That They Respected his Excellent Judgment,
And Frequently Were Governed by His Wise Counsel. The Following
Story Will Show His Power In this Direction. The Sioux, One Of The
Most Numerous And Warlike Tribes At That Time, Had Encroached upon
The Hunting-Grounds Of The Southern Indians, And The Latter Had Many
A Skirmish With Them On The Banks Of The Arkansas Along The Line Of
The Trail. Carson, Who Was In the Upper Valley Of The River, Was
Sent For To Come Down And Help Them Drive The Obnoxious Sioux Back
To Their Own Stamping-Ground. He Left Fort Bent, And Went With The
Party Of Comanche Messengers To The Main Camp Of That Tribe And The
Arapahoes, With Whom They Had United. Upon His Arrival, He Was Told
That The Sioux Had A Thousand Warriors And Many Rifles, And The
Comanches And Arapahoes Were Afraid Of Them On Account Of The Great
Disparity Of Numbers, But That If He Would Go With Them On The
War-Path, They Felt Assured they Could Overcome Their Enemies.
Carson, However, Instead Of Encouraging The Comanches And Arapahoes
To Fight, Induced them To Negotiate With The Sioux. He Was Sent
As Mediator, And So Successfully Accomplished his Mission That The
Intruding Tribe Consented to Leave The Hunting-Grounds Of The
Comanches As Soon As The Buffalo Season Was Over; Which They Did,
And There Was No More Trouble.
After Many Adventures In california With Fremont, Carson, With His
Inseparable Friend, L. B. Maxwell, Embarked in the Wool-Raising
Industry. Shortly After They Had Established themselves On Their
Ranch, The Apaches Made One Of Their Frequent Murdering and Plundering
Raids Through Northern New Mexico, Killing Defenceless Women And
Children, Running Off Stock Of All Kinds, And Laying Waste Every
Little Ranch They Came Across In their Wild Foray. Not Very Far
From The City Of Santa Fe, They Ruthlessly Butchered a Mr. White
And His Son, Though Three Of Their Number Were Slain By The Brave
Gentlemen Before They Were Overpowered. Other Of The Blood-Thirsty
Savages Carried away The Women And Children Of The Desolated home
And Took Them To Their Mountain Retreat In the Vicinity Of Las Vegas.
Mr. White Was A Highly Respected merchant, And News Of This Outrage
Spreading Rapidly Through The Settlements, It Was Determined that
The Savages Should Not Go Without Punishment This Time, At Least.
Carson'S Reputation As An Indian Fighter Was At Its Height, So The
Natives Of The Country Sent For Him, And Declined to Move Until
He Came. For Some Unexplained reason, After He Arrived at Las Vegas,
He Was Not Placed in charge Of The Posse, That Position Having
Already Been Given To A Frenchman. Carson, As Was Usual With Him,
Never Murmured because He Was Assigned to A Subordinate Position,
But Took His Place, Ready To Do His Part In whatever Capacity.
The Party Set Out For The Stronghold Of The Savages, And Rode Night
And Day On The Trail Of The Murderers, Hoping To Surprise Them And
Recapture The Women And Children; But So Much Time Had Been Wasted
In Delays, That Carson Feared they Would Only Find The Mutilated
Bodies Of The Poor Captives. In a Few Days After Leaving Las Vegas,
The Retreat Of The Savages Was Discovered in the Fastness Of The
Mountains, Where They Had Fortified themselves In such A Manner That
They Could Resist Ten Times The Number Of Their Pursuers. Carson,
As Soon As He Saw Them, Without A Second'S Hesitation, And Giving
A Characteristic Yell, Dashed in, Expecting, Of Course, That The Men
Would Follow Him; But They Only Stood In gaping Wonderment At His
Bravery, Not Daring To Venture After Him. He Did Not Discover His
Dilemma Until He Had Advanced so Far Alone That Escape Seemed
Impossible. But Here His Coolness, Which Always Served him In the
Moment Of Supreme Danger, Saved his Scalp. As The Savages Turned
On Him, He Threw Himself On The Off Side Of His Horse, Indian Fashion,
For He Was As Expert In a Trick Of That Kind As The Savages Themselves,
And Rode Back To The Little Command. He Had Six Arrows In his Horse
And A Bullet Through His Coat!
The Indians In those Days Were Poorly Armed, And Did Not Long
Follow Up The Pursuit After Carson; For, Observing The Squad Of
Mounted mexicans, They Retreated to The Top Of A Rocky Prominence,
From Which Point They Could Watch Every Movement Of The Whites.
Carson Was Raging at The Apathy, Not To Say Cowardice, Of The Men
Who Had Sent For Him To Join Them, But He Kept His Counsel To Himself;
For He Was Anxious To Save The Captured women And Children. He Talked
To The Men Very Earnestly, However, Exhorting Them Not To Flinch
In The Duty They Had Come So Far To Perform, And For Which He Had
Come At Their Call. This Had The Desired effect; For He Induced
Them To Make A Charge, Which Was Gallantly Performed, And In such
A Brave Manner That The Indians Fled, Scarcely Making an Effort To
Defend Themselves. Five Of Their Number Were Killed at The Furious
Onset Of The Mexicans, But Unfortunately, As He Anticipated, Only
The Murdered corpses Of The Women And Children Were The Result Of
The Victory.
President Polk Appointed carson To A Second Lieutenancy,[48] And His
First Official Duty Was Conducting Fifty Soldiers Under His Command
Through The Country Of The Comanches, Who Were Then At War With The
Whites. A Fight Occurred at A Place Known As Point Of Rocks,[49]
Where On Arriving, Carson Found A Company Of Volunteers For The
Mexican War, And Camped near Them. About Dawn The Next Morning,
All The Animals Of The Volunteers Were Captured by A Band Of Indians,
While The Herders Were Conducting Them To The River-Bottom To Graze.
The Herders Had No Weapons, And Luckily, In the Confusion Attending
The Bold Theft, Ran Into Carson'S Camp; And As He, With His Men,
Were Ready With Their Rifles, They Recaptured the Oxen, But The
Horses Were Successfully Driven Off By Their Captors.
Several Of The Savages Were Mortally Wounded by Carson'S Prompt
Charge, As Signs After They Had Cleared out Proved; But The Indian
Custom Of Tying The Wounded on Their Ponies Precluded the Chance Of
Taking any Scalps. The Wily Comanche, Like The Arab
Comments (0)