THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL - COLONEL HENRY INMAN (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📗

To Stampede A Caravan Of Mules,

For, Once Panic-Stricken, It Is Impossible To Restrain Them, And

The Indians Having Started them Kept Them In a State Of Rampant

Excitement By Their Blood-Curdling Yells, Until They Had Driven Them

Miles Beyond The Trail.

 

 

 

A Story Is Told Of A Small Band Of Twelve Men, Who, While Encamped

On The Cimarron River, In 1826, With But Four Serviceable Guns Among

Them, Were Visited by A Party Of Indians, Believed to Be Arapahoes,

Who Made At First Strong Demonstrations Of Friendship And Good-Will.

Observing The Defenceless Condition Of The Traders, They Went Away,

But Soon Returned about Thirty Strong, Each Provided with A Lasso,

And All On Foot.  The Chief Then Began By Informing The Americans

That His Men Were Tired of Walking, And Must Have Horses.  Thinking

It Folly To Offer Any Resistance, The Terrified traders Told Them

If One Animal Apiece Would Satisfy Them, To Go And Catch Them.

This They Soon Did; But Finding Their Request So Easily Complied with,

The Indians Held A Little Parley Together, Which Resulted in a New

Demand For More--They Must Have Two Apiece!  "Well, Catch Them!"

Was The Acquiescent Reply Of The Unfortunate Band; Upon Which The

Savages Mounted those They Had Already Secured, And, Swinging Their

Lassos Over Their Heads, Plunged among The Stock With A Furious Yell,

And Drove Off The Entire Caballada Of Nearly Five Hundred head Of

Horses, Mules, And Asses.

 

 

 

In 1829 The Indians Of The Plains Became Such A Terror To The Caravans

Crossing To Santa Fe, That The United states Government, Upon Petition

Of The Traders, Ordered three Companies Of Infantry And One Of Riflemen,

Under Command Of Major Bennet Riley, To Escort The Annual Caravan,

Which That Year Started from The Town Of Franklin, Missouri, Then The

Eastern Terminus Of The Santa Fe Trade, As Far As Chouteau'S Island,

On The Arkansas, Which Marked the Boundary Between The United states

And Mexico.[16]  The Caravan Started from The Island Across The Dreary

Route Unaccompanied by Any Troops, But Had Progressed only A Few Miles

When It Was Attacked by A Band Of Kiowas, Then One Of The Most Cruel

And Bloodthirsty Tribes On The Plains.[17]

 

 

 

This Escort, Commanded by Major Riley, And Another Under Captain

Wharton, Composed of Only Sixty Dragoons, Five Years Later, Were The

Sole Protection Ever Given By The Government Until 1843, When Captain

Philip St. George Cooke Again Accompanied two Large Caravans To The

Same Point On The Arkansas As Did Major Riley Fourteen Years Before.

 

 

 

As The Trade Increased, The Comanches, Pawnees, And Arapahoes

Continued to Commit Their Depredations, And It Was Firmly Believed

By Many Of The Freighters That These Indians Were Incited to Their

Devilish Acts By The Mexicans, Who Were Always Jealous Of

"Los Americanos."

 

 

 

It Was Very Rarely That A Caravan, Great Or Small, Or Even A Detachment

Of Troops, No Matter How Large, Escaped the Raids Of These Bandits Of

The Trail.  If The List Of Those Who Were Killed outright And Scalped,

And Those More Unfortunate Who Were Taken Captive Only To Be Tortured

And Their Bodies Horribly Mutilated, Could Be Collected from The

Opening Of The Traffic With New Mexico Until The Years 1868-69, When

General Sheridan Inaugurated his Memorable "Winter Campaign" Against

The Allied plains Tribes, And Completely Demoralized, Cowed, And

Forced them On Their Reservations, About The Time Of The Advent Of The

Railroad, It Would Present An Appalling Picture; And The Number Of

Horses, Mules, And Oxen Stampeded and Stolen During The Same Period

Would Amount To Thousands.

 

 

 

As The Excellent Narrative Of Captain Pike Is Not Read As It Should Be

By The Average American, A Brief Reference To It May Not Be Considered

Supererogatory.  The Celebrated officer, Who Was Afterward Promoted

To The Rank Of Major-General, And Died in the Achievement Of The

Victory Of York, Upper Canada, In 1813, Was Sent In 1806 On An

Exploring Expedition Up The Arkansas River, With Instructions To Pass

The Sources Of Red river, For Which Those Of The Canadian Were Then

Mistaken; He, However, Even Went Around The Head Of The Latter,

And Crossing The Mountains With An Almost Incredible Degree Of Peril

And Suffering, Descended upon The Rio Del Norte With His Little Party,

Then But Fifteen In number.

 

 

 

Believing Himself Now On Red river, Within The Then Assumed limits

Of The United states, He Built A Small Fortification For His Company,

Until The Opening Of The Spring Of 1807 Should Enable Him To Continue

His Descent To Natchitoches.  As He Was Really Within Mexican

Territory, And Only About Eighty Miles From The Northern Settlements,

His Position Was Soon Discovered, And A Force Sent To Take Him To

Santa Fe, Which By Treachery Was Effected without Opposition.

The Spanish Officer Assured him That The Governor, Learning That

He Had Mistaken His Way, Had Sent Animals And An Escort To Convey

His Men And Baggage To A Navigable Point On Red river (Rio Colorado),

And That His Excellency Desired very Much To See Him At Santa Fe,

Which Might Be Taken On Their Way.

 

 

 

As Soon, However, As The Governor Had The Too Confiding Captain

In His Power, He Sent Him With His Men To The Commandant General

At Chihuahua, Where Most Of His Papers Were Seized, And He And

His Party Were Sent Under An Escort, Via San Antonio De Bexar,

To The United states.

 

 

 

Many Citizens Of The Remote Eastern States, Who Were Contemporary

With Pike, Declared that His Expedition Was In some Way Connected

With The Treasonable Attempt Of Aaron Burr.  The Idea Is Simply

Preposterous; Pike'S Whole Line Of Conduct Shows Him To Have Been

Of The Most Patriotic Character; Never Would He For A Moment Have

Countenanced a Proposition From Aaron Burr!

 

 

 

After Captain Pike'S Report Had Been Published to The World,

The Adventurers Who Were Inspired by Its Glowing Description Of

The Country He Had Been So Far To Explore Were Destined to Experience

Trials And Disappointments Of Which They Had Formed no Conception.

 

 

 

Among Them Was A Certain Captain Sublette, A Famous Old Trapper

In The Era Of The Great Fur Companies, And With Him A Captain Smith,

Who, Although Veteran Pioneers Of The Rocky Mountains, Were Mere

Novices In the Many Complications Of The Trail; But Having Been In

The Fastnesses Of The Great Divide Of The Continent, They Thought

That When They Got Down On The Plains They Could Go Anywhere.

They Started with Twenty Wagons, And Left The Missouri Without

A Single One Of The Party Being Competent To Guide The Little Caravan

On The Dangerous Route.

 

 

 

From The Missouri The Trail Was Broad And Plain Enough For A Child

To Follow, But When They Arrived at The Cimarron Crossing Of

The Arkansas, Not A Trace Of Former Caravans Was Visible; Nothing But

The Innumerable Buffalo-Trails Leading From Everywhere To The River.

 

 

 

When The Party Entered the Desert, Or Dry Route, As It Was Years

Afterward Always, And Very Properly, Called in certain Seasons

Of Drought, The Brave But Too Confident Men Discovered that The

Whole Region Was Burnt Up.  They Wandered on For Several Days,

The Horrors Of Death By Thirst Constantly Confronting Them.

Water Must Be Had Or They Would All Perish!  At Last Smith, In his

Desperation, Determined to Follow One Of The Numerous Buffalo-Trails,

Believing That It Would Conduct Him To Water Of Some Character--

A Lake Or Pool Or Even Wallow.  He Left The Train Alone; Asked for

No One To Accompany Him; For He Was The Very Impersonation Of Courage,

One Of The Most Fearless Men That Ever Trapped in the Mountains.

 

 

 

He Walked on And On For Miles, When, On Ascending a Little Divide,

He Saw A Stream In the Valley Beneath Him.  It Was The Cimarron,

And He Hurried toward It To Quench His Intolerable Thirst.  When He

Arrived at Its Bank, To His Disappointment It Was Nothing But A Bed

Of Sand; The Sometime Clear Running River Was Perfectly Dry.

 

 

 

Only For A Moment Was He Staggered; He Knew The Character Of Many

Streams In the West; That Often Their Waters Run Under The Ground

At A Short Distance From The Surface, And In a Moment He Was On

His Knees Digging Vigorously In the Soft Sand.  Soon The Coveted

Fluid Began To Filter Upwards Into The Little Excavation He Had Made.

He Stooped to Drink, And In the Next Second A Dozen Arrows From An

Ambushed band Of Comanches Entered his Body.  He Did Not Die At Once,

However; It Is Related by The Indians Themselves That He Killed two

Of Their Number Before Death Laid Him Low.

 

 

 

Captain Sublette And Smith'S Other Comrades Did Not Know What Had

Become Of Him Until Some Mexican Traders Told Them, Having Got The

Report From The Very Savages Who Committed the Cold-Blooded murder.

 

 

 

Gregg, In his Report Of This Little Expedition, Says:

          Every Kind Of Fatality Seems To Have Attended this Small

          Caravan.  Among Other Casualties, A Clerk In their Company,

          Named minter, Was Killed by A Band Of Pawnees, Before They

          Crossed the Arkansas.  This, I Believe, Is The Only Instance

          Of Loss Of Life Among The Traders While Engaged in hunting,

          Although The Scarcity Of Accidents Can Hardly Be Said To Be

          The Result Of Prudence.  There Is Not A Day That Hunters

          Do Not Commit Some Indescretion; Such As Straying at

          A Distance Of Five And Even Ten Miles From The Caravan,

          Frequently Alone, And Seldom In bands Of More Than Two Or

          Three Together.  In this State, They Must Frequently Be

          Spied by Prowling Savages; So That Frequency Of Escape,

          Under Such Circumstances, Must Be Partly Attributed to

          The Cowardice Of The Indians; Indeed, Generally Speaking,

          The Latter Are Very Loth To Charge Upon Even A Single

          Armed man, Unless They Can Take Him At A Decided advantage.

 

 

 

          Not Long After, This Band Of Captain Sublette'S Very

          Narrowly Escaped total Destruction.  They Had Fallen In

          With An Immense Horde Of Blackfeet And Gros Ventres, And,

          As The Traders Were Literally But A Handful Among Thousands

          Of Savages, They Fancied themselves For A While In imminent

          Peril Of Being Virtually "Eated up."  But As Captain

          Sublette Possessed considerable Experience, He Was At

          No Loss How To Deal With These Treacherous Savages; So That

          Although The Latter Assumed a Threatening attitude,

          He Passed them Without Any Serious Molestation, And Finally

          Arrived at Santa Fe In safety.

 

 

 

The Virtual Commencement Of The Santa Fe Trade Dates From 1822,

And One Of The Most Remarkable Events In its History Was The First

Attempt To Introduce Wagons In the Expeditions.  This Was Made In 1824

By A Company Of Traders, About Eighty In number, Among Whom Were

Several Gentlemen Of Intelligence From Missouri, Who Contributed

By Their Superior Skill And Undaunted energy To Render The Enterprise

Completely Successful.  A Portion Of This Company Employed pack-Mules;

Among The Rest Were Owned twenty-Five Wheeled vehicles, Of Which

One Or Two Were Stout Road-Wagons, Two Were Carts, And The Rest

Dearborn Carriages, The Whole Conveying Some Twenty-Five Or Thirty

Thousand Dollars' Worth Of Merchandise.  Colonel Marmaduke,

Of Missouri, Was One Of The Party.  This Caravan Arrived at Santa Fe

Safely, Experiencing Much Less Difficulty Than They Anticipated

From A First Attempt With Wheeled vehicles.

 

 

 

Gregg Continues:

          The Early Voyageurs, Having But Seldom Experienced any

          Molestation From The Indians, Generally Crossed the Plains

          In detached bands, Each Individual Rarely Carrying More Than

          Two Or Three Hundred dollars' Worth Of Stock.  This Peaceful

          Season, However, Did Not Last Very Long; And It Is Greatly

          To Be Feared that The Traders Were Not Always Innocent Of

          Having Instigated the Savage Hostilities That Ensued in

          After Years.  Many Seemed to Forget The Wholesome Precept,

          That They Should Not Be Savages Themselves Because They

          Dealt With Savages.  Instead Of Cultivating Friendly

          Feelings With Those Few Who Remained peaceful And Honest,

          There Was An Occasional One Always Disposed to Kill,

          Even In cold Blood, Every Indian That Fell Into Their Power,

          Merely Because Some Of The Tribe Had Committed an Outrage

          Either Against Themselves Or Friends.

 

 

 

As An Instance Of This, He Relates The Following:

          In 1826 Two Young Men Named mcness And Monroe, Having

          Carelessly Lain Down To Sleep On The Bank Of A Certain

          Stream, Since Known As Mcness Creek,[18] Were Barbarously

          Shot, With Their Own Guns, As It Was Supposed, In the Very

          Sight Of The Caravan.  When Their Comrades Came Up,

          They Found Mcness Lifeless, And The Other Almost Expiring.

          In this State The Latter Was Carried nearly Forty Miles To

          The Cimarron River, Where He Died, And Was Buried according

          To The Custom Of The Prairies, A Very Summary Proceeding,

          Necessarily.  The Corpse, Wrapped in a Blanket, Its Shroud

          The Clothes It Wore, Is Interred in a Hole Varying In depth

          According To The Nature Of The Soil, And Upon