Chapter XII: The Phantom Liar of Grease Wood Desert

A portion of the compound constituting the waters of the Platte, with which many of our effects were saturated, passed into the air by evaporation in the sun, but a residuum of clay and sand long remained as a reminder of the day spent in the muddy flood of that river. We were happy to find that our ammunition was uninjured. We waited three days for the arrival of Phillip's mule train, which was at Julesburg and with which we expected to proceed, but finally learned that it would not hazard an attempt to ford a river that had proved so disastrous to others. In the meantime we hunted sage hens and jack rabbits, which were numerous in that sage brush country.

It has often been said of Yankee mechanics that they are "Jacks of all trades and masters of none." Necessity has made them self-reliant. Such were we, and the delay afforded us an opportunity to put everything in good order. Although there were no harness makers, blacksmiths, or carpenters, to repair harness or wagons, no horseshoers to shoe the horses, and no shoemakers or tailors to mend boots or garments, nearly every member of our company showed himself fully qualified to do very satisfactory work and with few tools in each of these lines of industry. The valuable miscellaneous training in the primitive days in our country, when the trades were not specialized as they are now, fitted the young men of that time for such emergencies.

Deciding that our present situation justified a violation of army regulations, we moved forward alone to the crossing of Lodge Pole Creek, a milky-colored stream about fifteen feet in width. They told us at Julesburg that the Indians were accustomed to obtain lodge poles from a place near the distant sources of this stream, a fact to which it owed its euphonious name.

We had camped some distance from the trail, and having taken our horses over the ridge into another ravine, had picketed them on the best grass that could be found. It was my duty to stand guard and watch the horses until midnight. The night was clear and still, and although it was bright starlight, it seemed to be very dark in the ravine. I took a position slightly up the hillside and reclined with ear near the ground. About midnight there came seemingly from some very distant source, a low, deep, rumbling roar. For a time it was impossible even to surmise the cause. It seemed to be subterranean and yet it was not an earthquake, for the sound was continuous and gradually increased in depth and power. In a few minutes I became convinced that it was caused by the hoofs of a great number of running horses approaching through the ravine. As a measure of precaution I thought it best to move a little out of the valley to a position behind a growth of sage brush near-by, and there await developments. An Indian raid at midnight was hardly to be suspected, nor had we heard of any large body of cavalry in those parts. The sound increased in power like the roar of an approaching tornado, and an onrushing mass finally swept round the nearest curve in the ravine. Our horses, frightened by the approaching herd, suddenly started in advance, as could be inferred from their snorting and the rattle of the iron picket pins, some of which were pulled from the ground. All were soon in flight. Those which failed at once to escape were carried along the next moment with a solid, resistless tide of oncoming mules which leaped one upon another. As the drove swept by I caught glimpses here and there of the moving forms, which showed that the mules were riderless; being stampeded, their fright was communicated to one another--those in the rear crowding upon those in front; and some of them, I believe, stumbled and were run over by the compact mass that followed. In a moment all had passed; but for a long time in the direction of a range of hills to the west, could be heard the roar of hundreds of hoofs and the ring of the picket pins as they were dragged over the stony ground. The sound did not die away entirely in its slow diminuendo until the mules had passed the range six miles to the west. On visiting the spot where our horses had been picketed, we found that every one of them had been carried away in the mad rush, and unless we could recover them the inconveniences would be most serious. The natural conclusion then was that the large herd had been stampeded by mounted Indians, who would soon follow.

When about to return to camp to report the situation to our party, I became conscious of the approach of mounted men from the same direction as that from which the stampede came.

I soon heard their voices. They proved to be four men on horseback, who (I then suspected) might have caused the rush. Myself a party to the loss of stock, and believing it to be my duty quickly to summon our party, I fired my rifle in advance of the riders. Wishing to make myself appear as numerous as possible, I repeated the challenge with two or three additional shots in rapid succession, and with as firm a voice as I could command called to the riders to halt. To my surprise they did halt. One of the men gruffly asked, "Who are _you_?" Another shouted what seemed rather an incoherent declaration, the tenor of which as I caught it, was in effect that I was shooting at the United States Government. Perhaps it was the darkness and the fact that I was out of their reach that inspired me with sufficient confidence to order them not to proceed further until we could ascertain who they were. The pronoun "we" was used not only to emphasize the authority of the speaker and thereby command respect, but also on the theory that the more numerous I could make myself appear the safer I was likely to be until our boys should arrive in response to the rifle call. As was expected, our men rounded up very quickly, for our campers were not compelled to dress and make an elaborate toilet on receiving a call. A mutual investigation followed, through which we learned that a Government train of which we had no previous knowledge had camped three miles northwest of our trail, and their stock, about 240 in number, had been stampeded through the carelessness or folly of one their own drivers; and the animals were away before their men were prepared to start in pursuit. They had been able to find a few saddle horses which had been picketed and had not escaped in the panic. On being informed very definitely concerning the direction which the flying herd had taken, the riders, after giving the assurance that all of our horses would in time doubtless be returned, started on their hunt. After daybreak they encountered no difficulty in following their course, which was well marked by hoof tracks; and in the forenoon all of our horses were once more at our command, but none the better for their escapade.

This Lodge Pole Creek ford became of some interest to overland travelers by reason of the fact that some years later the old Oregon trail, which we were still pursuing, was here crossed by the Union Pacific Railroad, which up to this point along much of its course was built exactly upon the trail marked by the first Mormon emigrants in 1847, following many of its windings. This fact suggests a striking comparison between the early and the later modes of travel. Our party, moving as steadily as possible, had consumed twenty-five days in reaching this point from the Missouri River. Ben Holliday's stages, when they followed the route that we were taking, reached Lodge Pole on the fifth day, being driven continuously night and day with relays of horses every ten or fifteen miles. It is now reached in twelve hours by express trains.

Our next day's journey after leaving Pole Creek was over a series of ridges along an excellent roadway the great part of the distance. The highest points disclosed fine views of the rocky cliffs along the North Platte. There is a marked change in the general features of the country as compared with those seen along the Platte valley east of Julesburg. The road showed that it had been traveled but little. We were able to make a drive of twenty-eight miles, reaching Mud Spring in the evening. Why this tiny fountain should be so denominated is unknown and unknowable; it was the first clear, living water that we had seen west of the Missouri River, except in a few wells at stage stations. In February of the preceding year this spot was the scene of some sharp fights with the Indians.

And now there lay immediately before us the longest and most difficult drive of the trip, concerning which we had secured much information. It would conduct us across a wide stretch of sandy desert in which there was no pasturage; and forty long miles must be laid behind in order to reach a camp ground where there was any grazing whatever for horses. The preceding day had been intensely hot, and there were no indications of any immediate change in the temperature. To secure the benefit of the cooler early hours we were off at exactly three o'clock in the morning. Near where we entered the dreary waste of sand we parallelled for a short distance a small stream, concerning which we had been advised that it was the only desirable place for lunch. We had prepared some cold boiled beans, bacon and coffee, which we pulled from the mess box, and as the rays of the sun had now become very oppressive, we prepared to drop down upon the hot sand in the shade of a wagon. The Deacon protected himself somewhat from the sands by sitting upon a rolled-up blanket. Others remained standing or dropped upon their knees, but Pete remarked that as the tallest and largest man in the party he was fairly entitled to a certain high mound of sand of convenient shape, which he found well in the shade. These piles were formed by some little clumps of grease wood, or similar growth, which the sand had drifted round and in many cases entirely covered, as a little obstruction will sometimes collect a small snow drift.

Pete, who was a tall, powerful, but rather slow-moving individual, dropped wearily and heavily upon the sand heap which he proposed to occupy by right of squatter sovereignty. Although it was a long distance from the seat of Pete's "pants" to the seat of his intelligence, yet the information was quickly transmitted to his brain that something was under him that was not all sand. With a sudden yell, as if stung by a serpent, he leaped into the air with agility and enthusiasm of which he had hitherto been deemed altogether incapable. Peter swore. He then inspected the sand pile, while we watched him with dismay, being ignorant of the cause of his frenzy. Reaching out at arm's length, he cautiously poked the mound with his whip stock and found, not a rattlesnake, but only an oval-shaped cactus slightly concealed beneath the sand. Its long spines as sharp as needles and almost uncountable in number, under the weight of Pete's body had penetrated his flesh no one yet knows how far. As the punctured parts could not easily be examined by the sufferer, his companion, Noah, performed the operation of removing such of the needles as were visible. Many without doubt remained, for during the next two or three days Peter walked with short steps, _staccato_, and rarely indulged in a sitting posture.

The stream near which we had halted afforded the last opportunity to obtain water until we should complete the long drive across the sands. Our horses were fed with fine wheat flour, the only nourishment which we could secure to stay them through the day. After having filled the water kegs and canteens from the stream, the difficult march was continued. The day was so intensely hot that nearly all members of the party walked to relieve the perspiring horses. The country we were traversing was an area of loose, dry sand. Its surface was marked by small mounds and ridges of sand, the ridges all trending in one direction and evidently drifted with the prevailing wind behind a clump of stunted grease wood, a small shrub which grows on alkaline soils and, like other desert growths, is stiff and stubby,--possibly a provision of nature to preserve its scant foliage from being browsed; shrubs so protected remained, a survival of the fittest. Some such provision is certainly necessary to protect the plant life of the desert in its struggle for existence. The surface of the sand was slightly hardened by a thin scale, possibly due to solidification in drying, after a passing shower had moistened the salts in the sand. The scale in many places prevented the wheels from sinking deeply. The wagons were, therefore, scattered along side by side, because a track once followed was deeply cut in the ruts. Numerous lizards (swifts) glided along the parched surface of the Sahara and were the only specimens of animal life that I observed there with any interest.

An experience on this grease wood desert may have prompted the inquiry ascribed to one of our statesmen, who is alleged to have asked in 1843 concerning this western territory, "What do we want with the vast worthless area, this region of savages and wild beasts, of deserts of shifting sands and whirlwinds of dust, of cactus and prairie dogs?"

In spite of the oppressive heat of the day and the long tramp still before us, Ben, who was tough and untiring, proposed a little side tramp by way of diversion. For many miles we had observed the majestic outlines of the conspicuous landmark well known as Court House Rock. As our course finally approached within two miles of its cliffs, Ben and I determined to secure a view from its summit. That remarkable monument stands in solitary grandeur upon the barren plain; it has, however, a worthy associate not far away, another prominence known as the Jail; these high bluffs are appropriately named. From a distance Court House Rock has the appearance of some vast, ancient ruin. The grandeur and beauty of its outlines and the majesty of its proportions have made it a notable landmark for all travelers who pass that way. We found its ascent comparatively easy, but the descent was somewhat difficult because of the projecting terraces which, though of hard material, were cracked, leaving projections that could not be depended upon for support. Although we might well have saved our energies for the hot tramp through the sands which lay before us, we obtained views of the "bad lands" to the west, which were very impressive.

It seemed as if in the Creation there had been a vast amount of crude material left over, which had been dumped into that waste, but the essential elements of life were wholly absent. As far as could be seen through the clear, hot, and quivering air of noonday everything was silent and dead. On reaching the trail Ben and I followed the track of our wagons in the white sand, which glowed like a furnace, and finally overtook our party, which was slowly dragging along with occasional pauses for rest.

We had seen no person during the day except members of our own party. Beyond the border of the sandy waste I dropped back again, but this time with Noah, who was also wearily trudging along now over a more hilly and broken country toward the north Platte. We were surprised to see approaching us from the north, as if about to cross our course, a long-haired individual, rather tough in appearance, with whom we exchanged a few commonplace words, with the usual question as to what he was "driving at" in that country, but obtained no definite information. Having been informed that there were numerous rattlesnakes in the hilly country, I aimed a question concerning snakes at the presence that stood before us. Something in his appearance led me to believe that he, if anyone, would be informed on the subject. "Yes," he replied, "there's right smart of rattlesnakes around here." Simply to continue the conversation, we asked if he had killed many. Before making any reply he slowly hauled from deep down in his "pants" pocket a plug of tobacco, and inserting it between his big teeth chewed off a section that proved to be large enough to interfere somewhat with his articulation. He then stood silent for a moment, while he transferred the tobacco from one cheek to another. The cynical expression upon his face impressed us with the idea that he had all the qualities required to make a first class stranger. He then related an alleged experience with a rattlesnake. Although not inclined to accept it as exactly true in all particulars, we offer it here not quite in _ipsissimis verbis_ but substantially as given, simply for what it may be worth as a problematic contribution to natural history. His thesis at the outset was, that if one gains the affection of a rattlesnake through some special act of kindness the serpent may on some occasions afterward express its profound gratitude.

He said that his "pardner" Jim, once upon a time, discovered a six-foot rattler lying fastened under a rock which had rolled upon it while it was lying torpid in the sun. Instead of taking advantage of the reptile while it was in this helpless condition, he carefully released it, and thereafter the snake on many occasions manifested indications of its gratitude, and became a veritable pet, following the man wherever it was permitted to go, and guarding him faithfully. Jim, therefore, called it Annie, because he came from Indiana.

On being awakened one night, Jim, observing that Annie was missing from her usual place near his bed, hastily arose to discover the cause of her absence. Lighting a candle, he opened an outside door of the ranch house and soon heard Annie rattling her tail. He then discovered that the snake had run a skulking Indian into the other room, and was holding him there a prisoner, while her tail, which was sticking out of the window, was rattling like a dinner bell, calling Jim to come in and help kill the "cuss."

We asked the red-headed, pink-eyed, big-mustached rancher if this was really a true story, and if his own personal reputation would give credit to his statements. He replied that he had lived in those parts for seven years and had never yet been lynched. This was surely to be accepted in that elementary waste as an evidence of good moral character. He admitted that he had a few horses off in the hills which he could part with in case a prospective buyer was anxious to get some fresh ones, but we did not ask him to produce any evidence of his title to the animals. The conclusion of this instructive and interesting incident afforded the narrator a much needed opportunity to discharge from his mouth a large quantity of tobacco juice, which for a considerable time had interfered with his enunciation.

His reference to the Indian led us to ask if many Sioux were now in that country. In reply to this question he hesitated a few moments, while with a hand in each of his pockets he turned his eyes in various directions as if the subjects of which he was to speak might be concealed in some of the gullies near-by. He finally said there were right smart of 'em along the North Platte here a while ago, "but I guess most of them have gone up to Laramie. They don't bother me very much, but the other day my pardner was out and I was all alone in the shanty and my horse was hitched in front. I went out the door for something and there were six Indians a-coming up in a hurry. When they saw me three of 'em shot at me but didn't fetch me. I ain't no sucker with a gun, but I only had one six-shooter in my belt and knowed it was no time for fooling." Accompanying his words with action showing how he did it, he added, "I jerked out my gun jest so, and give it to 'em, and there was jest enough cartridges in it to go around, but they went around."

"Do you mean to say that you didn't miss a shot?" asked Noah. "Oh, I'm all right with a gun; them Injuns won't bother me any more." Astounded at the man's coolness and bravery, I asked if the Indians had guns. He replied that they had bows, but they started in at pretty long range for bows and arrows.

At that moment we heard three or four rifle shots which attracted our attention toward the direction which our train had taken. The train was now out of our sight. We both concluded that some of the boys had discovered game. Turning again toward the spot where a minute before had stood the daring hero of Grease Wood Desert, we discovered that he had vanished and no sign or trace of him was visible. The only possible avenue by which he could disappear and still remain in the flesh was by a narrow, crooked ravine near the ill-defined trail. We hastened to its margin, but no sight or sound that came to our senses gave us the slightest clue to the manner of his transformation or disappearance. His abiding place may have been either in Avernus or down the ravine, for, although possibly not dark enough, the latter was certainly hot enough that day for the former in climate.

Noah and I had been so much delayed that we hastened on our course walking side by side, overtaking our wagons before they reached the valley of the North Platte near Brown's ranch, where we camped. We were there informed that our teams, which were much fagged, had traveled forty miles during the day. The rifle shots that we heard had been directed at jack rabbits.

On our side trip I suffered not so much from fatigue as from an acute headache, which developed toward the close of the day as a result of the intense heat and of the miserable food we had eaten. Fred had brought with him a few simple drugs from a store in which he was interested at home. Among them was tincture of camphor. He administered a dose of the stuff, which immediately caused all the mechanism of my stomach to assert its rights in the most vehement manner. It expelled everything except the camphor, which, being no longer held in solution, solidified into a chunk. At times it rose into my throat for an instant and then gradually settled down again to resume its activities. The stomach being unable to expel the camphor gum then endeavored to expel itself in its entirety, but as the organ was fastened down in some mysterious fashion, it could only turn itself wrong side out and twist itself in the most unsatisfactory manner. The remainder of the drug supply was then placed at my disposal, but I declined longer to permit my stomach to be used as a chemical laboratory in which to test drugs of unknown qualities. Not until the solidified gum had been expelled was there any domestic peace.

Near the course that we had followed to this camp is the battle field where in 1855 General William S. Harney slaughtered the Brule Sioux Indians in a terrific fight in which 500 savages are said to have perished at what is known as Ash Hollow. Harney had served in the Black Hawk war and also in our war with Mexico.

On the following day we passed Chimney Rock, visible for a great distance and a striking feature of the landscape. It is about 260 feet in height. Captain Howard Stansbury, an early traveler wrote of it: "This singular formation has been undoubtedly at one time a projecting shoulder of the main chain of bluffs bounding the valley of the Platte and has been separated from it by the action of water. That the shaft has been very much higher than at present is evident from the corresponding formation of the bluff, as well as from the testimony of all our voyagers, for whom it was for years a beacon visible for forty or fifty miles both up and down the river."

It was the opinion of Mr. James Bridger that this eminence had been reduced to its present height by lightning or some other energy of nature, from the change he observed in it on his return from one of his trips to St. Louis, for when he had passed it on his way down, it was uninjured.

After still another long day's drive up the valley of the swift flowing North Platte, through patches of stunted sage brush and grease wood, we paused for the night. The terraced height of Scott's Bluffs loomed in the distance. Almost behind them, the glowing sun sank beneath the sharply defined horizon, and the shadows of night brought welcome relief after another day of intense heat.