Chapter XXXVII: Personal--Conclusion 391 (3)

About eleven miles from Camp Colorado, I came to a considerable mountain, called Santa Anna's peak. Staking my pony so that he could graze, I climbed to the summit to take a view of the surrounding country, and see if I could discover smoke indicating a camp. From this point I had a full view of Home creek, from its source to a point nearly as far down as its mouth, on the Pecan bayou. While leisurely surveying the landscape before me, I was startled by a slight sound, like the breaking of a twig. Knowing that I stood upon dangerous ground, I held my pistol in my hand; and to cock it was but the work of a moment; and turning around, judge my astonishment at seeing before me a stalwart negro, and distant only about ten steps, with a rifle drawn and nearly ready to fire. There was no mistaking his intention. His eye was a perfect index to his thoughts and his determination. Quick as thought I leveled on him, but before I could speak he addressed me in a very quiet tone:

"Master, don't shoot me."

"Put down your gun, then," I replied, utterly astonished at his coolness and effrontery, and slowly he let the hammer fall and lowered his piece.

"Master," he said piteously, "you isn't gwine to kill me, is ye?"

"What were you about to do to me?" I demanded; "were you not in the act of shooting me?"

"Master," he replied, "I'se a poor black man; my life ain't worth nothin' to you, no how; so jes please let me live a little longer; please don't shoot me."

Again I demanded why he had drawn his gun on me.

"O please, sir, put down de pistol, den I kin talk to you."

I lowered the pistol, keeping a strict eye on his movements. He prefaced his remarks with the very pertinent question:

"Is you from Texas?"

I hardly know what made me deny it, but I replied that I was not. But his next sentence convinced me that I had done well.

"I thought," said he, "you was one of dem fellers from de creek, over dar."

"What fellows? Who are they?" I inquired. He looked at me so calmly, that I saw he was not in the least afraid of me; and after hesitating a little, he asked, in a dubious tone:

"Master, whar did you come from, den?"

I told him quickly I came from Fort Cobb, in the Indian Nation, and this seemed greatly to relieve his mind on some important point, for he said:

"La, master, I thort you was one o' dem fellers from Texas; dey come up in de mountains every few days, huntin' for some of us poor brack folks; dey dun cotch nearly all now and took 'em down in de settlements."

"What is your name, and what are you doing here?" I asked.

"My name Jim, sah, and I lives round de end of de mountain, dar. But, massa, what might I call you?"

I told him my name, and otherwise made myself free with him, when he became very social; and on learning I was originally from Ohio, he made many inquiries about the people, and the country. "I'se always hearn about the north," said he; "and wanted to go dar."

He then told me he had been raised a slave, and he had run off from his master, who lived in Jack county, Texas; and that he had lived in those mountains several years. After talking awhile longer, and finding I had no disposition to molest him in any manner, he invited me to go with him to his cave. Full of curiosity to see more of the strange mortal, I walked with him around the point, over piles of broken rocks, which seemed to have been tumbled down out of the side of the mountain, by an earthquake; he clambered, and I followed, until we turned around the spur, when he stopped before a little hole in the side of a cliff, and pointing to it, said:

"Dar's whar I lib, sah," and he led the way into it.

Stooping down, I followed him into the cave, until he disappeared in the darkness, when I stepped to one side, and placed myself behind a huge rock, that projected from the wall. I thought by doing so, I would have a decided advantage if he was disposed to be tricky. He then called out: "Jis stop a minit, till I strikes a light."

He soon had a large iron lamp burning, which lit up the whole cave; after which, he proceeded to light a fire, and cook me something to eat. He had plenty to live on--flour, bacon, sugar, coffee, and tea. He boasted of this--said he "lived as well as de white folks;" but what was the greatest mystery to me, was the fact that he had a large amount of clothing in his cave--both men's and women's wear. In one place, were several fine coats hanging; and in another, pants, vests, and female apparel. I kept constantly between him and the door, without acting as if I suspected anything. But I could not possibly devise how he came by these articles, and therefore did not like to put myself in his power, lest my coat might soon hang with the rest. Without seeming to care anything about it, I asked a few questions about his hunting, and the profits it brought him; if he followed trading, and if he bartered any with the Indians. I found he procured his flour and bacon, by selling game to the officers and soldiers, at different posts; and that there were a good many other runaways in the mountains, and that Burleson's men had caught half a dozen of them, and sent them to the settlements. I did not deem it prudent to tell him I wanted to go to Burleson's camp, or that I knew anything about it. After eating a heavy dinner with him, I bid him a hearty "good bye," and told him I must ride. He inquired very earnestly where I was going, and I told him, without hesitating, to Fort Mason. He accompanied me down the mountain to my horse, and when I had mounted, he shook hands with me kindly, as only a negro can, when he is in earnest, saying:

"Massa, you won't neber tink hard o' old Uncle Jim; 'deed I tink you are one o' dem fellers from Texas."

I put out at a good gait, and got to the crossing of the creek, about an hour before sundown. When there, I had a hard time to determine which way to go, but finally turned up the creek, which happened to be the right course, and I reached Burleson's camp some time after dark, and was warmly welcomed by the Captain and his men.

On my way down, I had captured a prairie dog, and put it in my saddle pocket. It was a beautiful little animal, about twice the size of a common fox squirrel, of brownish color, with very bright little eyes, and with ears so diminutive, as to be little more than a curl in the hair. Its feet were shaped like those of a squirrel, with five toes on its front, and four on its hinder feet; and its teeth, too, resembled those of the same animal, but were larger, and stronger; while its tail, except that it was larger, and had coarser hair, was like that of the common ground squirrel. It would have made a fine pet, and been an object of curiosity down in the settlements; but as I could not carry it with me, I killed it.

The region over which I traveled, abounded in game--especially in deer and antelope. On the Clear fork of the Brazos, I could see immense herds, shading themselves, during the heat of the day. From the top of the table land, on the southwest side of the Clear fork, I could see more than fifty groups of these animals, at once; and many of them numbered from forty to fifty. It would be altogether safe, to estimate the whole number in sight at once, at five hundred.

I received a terrible fright from half a dozen horned owls, just as I was crossing a little creek, within a short distance of camp. They raised a perfectly demoniac yell over my head, just as I came up out of the creek; and they followed it up, with such a natural laugh, that I put spurs to my horse, and ran a short distance, fearing that I was in the vicinity of a camp of savages, waylaying the ford. After getting some distance away, I turned around, and peering up into the trees, discovered the cause of my alarm to be nothing more dangerous than half a dozen great horned owls, enjoying a social "time," in the cool of the evening.

After a day of rest, in camp, I joined a party in a bear hunt, up Jim Ned creek, a stream named after Jim Ned, a Caddoe warrior of considerable note, who, as the story goes, is a natural son of Gen. H----y, who is known throughout the west as a daring soldier--gay, and fond of women. He is a man of decided character, large size, and endowed with no ordinary degree of courage. His great resemblance to the general, gives credence to the reputed relationship; but Capt. Beaver, or as he is commonly called, Black Beaver, a full blood Indian, and a very truthful man, who has known Jim Ned, since his birth, says his father was a very black negro, while the mother was a full blooded Indian woman. Nevertheless, Jim Ned is very white, and would pass for a white man in almost any crowd.

But without attempting to determine the vexed question of Jim Ned's parentage, I return to my narrative. Our luck in the hunt, was extraordinary. We had procured good dogs from the settlement, and had rare sport. In three days, we killed five bears, one elk, and a number of deer. We found wild honey in abundance, of which we partook liberally, after which we filled our camp kettles with it, as well as every other available vessel in our possession; some of us even took off our drawers, and, after having washed them in the creek, tied the legs together at the bottom, and filled them with the delicious sweet. We found this decidedly the easiest of all methods of carrying it, as we could hang it astride our horses. We then returned to camp, very tired, badly stung, but full of life.

On our return, we discovered everything in commotion, as the Indians had made their appearance in the neighborhood, and had been stealing horses; and a party of citizens were in the camp, ready to pilot us to the scene of the disturbances. The Captain got his company in the saddle, and went to the spot indicated that night, and next morning early, we struck out on the trail, and had only followed it a few miles, when we came in sight of the Indians, who were only two in number. They had with them four horses--none of them good ones. We raised a yell, and started after them at a full charge. Throwing themselves from their horses, they turned toward the bushes. We run partly around the thicket, and commenced firing into it. Our heavy rifle balls cut the brush and glanced about through it so much, that it ceased to be much protection to them, and they soon found it so. They then hoisted a white rag on a switch, and we ceased firing. The Captain called on them to come out, which they immediately did, one of them holding his hand over his right ear. On being assured that we did not want to kill them, they regarded themselves as extremely well favored. They belonged to the tribe of Lipans. The citizens agreed that they would take them to Austin, to be turned over to Gov. Houston. The wounded man said he was "proud, heap proud; white man miss so close."

We returned to camp on Home creek, where another party was sent out to Pecan bayou, on a scout; myself among the number. A few miles above Camp Colorado, we found a deserter from the regular service, wandering about in irons. He had a pistol, and plenty of ammunition; but as his irons were riveted, he could not get them off. Luckily our blacksmith was along with us, and he had his rasp with him, by the aid of which, and his shoeing hammer, the manacles were loosed. When set at liberty, the Lieutenant told him he might either return to his regiment, or go down to the settlements; and he chose the latter alternative. On the same day, we found a negro woman in the woods, who was taken into custody, to be returned to her owner: but in the night she escaped, through some mysterious agency, although securely tied, and was never seen afterward, by any of the party; and, as catching slaves was not our legitimate business, we made little exertion to find her. Crossing over on to Jim Ned, we had plenty of sport, killing deer; indeed, our horses were literally loaded down with venison, bear meat, and other game, and we were thinking of anything else, rather than war, when all at once we struck a broad trail, over which a large number of horses had passed. Believing that a drove of animals had strayed off here, from some of the settlements, we followed in the track, with a view of heading them off, and returning them to the settlements. As the tracks were very fresh, we did not anticipate any trouble in overtaking the drove, the first time it stopped to graze. After following the trail for some time, we came in sight of a lone Indian, but nothing else was to be seen. The instant he observed us, he dashed off as rapidly as his horse could carry him, following the course the horses had taken. It was evident that he was a sentinel, and that more savages were ahead; so we started at once in pursuit. It was now apparent that the animals had been stolen, and were being driven off by a large body of Indians. The trail was nearly as plain as a wagon road, and could be traveled with certainty in the night, and we accordingly kept on through the darkness.

Failing to gain on the Indian, we cut our game loose from the saddles, and let it go; and our horses, thus relieved from a heavy burden, ran well; and though we did not gain on the savage, we held our own, and thus prevented him from giving the alarm to his company before we came upon them. It was a tight race, as long as we were on the level prairie; but as soon as we entered the mountains, on the Colorado, he frequently evaded our view, as he was a splendid horseman, and ran his animal with excellent judgment.

His horse was failing, but so were our own; so that we could not take advantage of that circumstance. On our arrival at the top of a mountain we discovered the object of our pursuit--the drove of horses--in the care of about twenty Indians. They had not yet discovered us, when the red imp before us began to yell loud enough to awaken the dead, to say nothing about startling the living. The Indians heard him, and we could distinctly perceive the excitement occasioned; and they at once gave him an answering whoop, and headed the drove for the river; but the horses not being manageable by so small a number of drivers, stampeded, and ran to the right, and nearly parallel to the stream, for some distance; while the Indians, seeing us gain on them rapidly, left their booty and dashed into another gap in the mountains. They had lost time in trying to turn the horses the way they wanted them to go, and we were now close upon them, firing, and yelling like so many madmen.

On we went till we passed the mountains, when we found the Indians had mistaken their route, and ran through the wrong gap, and had unexpectedly found themselves upon the river, with a high bluff before them, and an almost perpendicular mountain on each side, while we were charging close upon their rear; but they hesitated not a moment. Realizing their position, they spurred ahead, and dashed over the bluff into the river. So sudden was their disappearance that some of Burleson's men could not check up in time to save themselves, but went headlong after the savages, who made for the opposite shore as fast as they rose to the surface. After swimming a few strokes, they struck hard bottom and were soon in shallow water, when, giving us a parting whoop, they fled to the woods, and were quickly out of sight. The river here is very narrow and deep, on the North side. The bluff was about sixteen feet high, and perpendicular above the water. There were three of our party who went over the bluff after the Indians, one of whom we always called Towney--but I have forgotten the names of the others. They all swam ashore on the opposite side; still, as their guns and ammunition were wet, they could accomplish nothing against the long lances of the fugitives, so they wisely followed the river bank down to a ford and recrossed.

The Lieutenant then concluded to return and save the horses, as there was no longer any hope of overtaking the Indians in the dark. We soon found the animals quietly grazing, and encamped to wait for the return of the men who had gone in search of a ford, which they found about five miles down the river. We were then forty-five miles from the regular camp; and on the following day discovered a party of citizens who had gone out in search of the horses; but had it not been for us, they would never have seen them again. We then returned, and were soon feasting on all sorts of wild fowl and game, as well as fish, of which we caught thousands.

_CHAPTER V._

ANOTHER LONELY RIDE--FRONTIER FEUDS.

After resting my horse two or three days, I set out on my return to Fort Belknap alone, as Burleson was not yet ready to move, and would not be for some time. Out of unadulterated sympathy for my horse, I took no rations for myself, depending solely for my subsistence on my trusty gun. There are two requisites for successful hunting, besides proper equipments and being a dead shot: one is to find the game, and the other is to get within shooting distance. I could not dismount to hunt on foot, nor could I leave my route, lest I should fall in with some roving band of Comanches; and game was scarce on the high table-land over which I was to travel, and as a natural consequence, I went hungry all the way. On the second day, I became very sick of a fever, which I broke by laying down in a running stream of pure water until I got chilled; and, between hunger and sickness, I was unable to travel fast, and it was two o'clock of the fourth day, before I reached Dobb's ranch, the first settlement on my way, and only thirteen miles from Belknap. I called for dinner, and turned out my horse to graze, and, in the meantime, threw myself down to enjoy a nap, which my exhausted system greatly needed, and which I could now do, conscious of perfect security. I had slept but a few minutes, however, before I was awakened by one of the prettiest girls in Texas. She furnished me with a towel and a basin of water, preparatory to taking my dinner, and after indulging in my ablutions, my appetite attained a keenness which I have seldom felt; and it was with no ordinary degree of satisfaction that I seated myself to a table bountifully spread with warm bread, fresh butter, wild honey, sweet milk, and a score of other dainties, calculated to appease the most ravenous cravings of the stomach. The young lady sat down immediately opposite me, and after seeing that my plate was well supplied, she began to question me as to where I was from, whither I was going, and to what command I belonged; seeming determined to make me communicative whether I would be or no. Having fasted long, I was not unaware of the danger of partaking too freely of the food set before me; so I measured at a glance just the quantity I would take, and determined not to exceed it; but the girl kept on talking, and detained me till I consumed all the victuals on the table.

Dinner over, I mounted a fresh horse which was furnished me, and started for Belknap. My steed was a half wild Mustang, native to the country, and had been badly spoiled in breaking. I had scarcely touched his back, when he began that species of rearing and plunging, known in Texas as "pitching;" in California as "spiking," and in this country as "bucking." Now my tribulation began. The first half a dozen leaps brought on a pain, and dizziness, and convinced me of my imprudence in eating so heartily, after a fast. To dismount, was to evince cowardice, and the thought was not to be entertained; and, to be thrown, was everlasting disgrace. The pretty girl was a spectator of my efforts, and I must ride him or die. Great drops of sweat were rolling down my face--the result of pain and sickness, not of exertion. Seeing the case was growing desperate, I drove the spurs again and again into his sides, until, almost frantic with pain, the horse dashed off at the top of his speed, into the woods, and in the direction of Belknap. I arrived there in about an hour, still suffering terribly. It does not injure a man to go three days hungry; I am almost tempted to say, it may do him good, if he is careful to eat sparingly when he once more reaches a land of plenty; but I had made myself a glutton, and must take the consequences.

On arriving in camp, I found that Colonel Johnston had gone to eastern Texas, and that my company commander, Captain Smith, had been elected Lieutenant Colonel of the regiment, and that Sul. Ross, a son of Captain Ross, sub-agent of the Lower Reserve, had succeeded him as Captain. Our First Lieutenant was named Lang, and the Second Lieutenant was Dave Sublett.

The followers of Baylor were not at all pleased that a son of their old enemy should have been elected to an office among the Rangers, although it was not an affair that in the least concerned them. But a feud of the most violent character disturbed the community; and among men of the style of those of Western Texas, hatred almost as inevitably led to personal collision, as it did in Scotland two hundred and fifty years ago. A single incident will illustrate the feeling which prevailed:

Some Indians visited the settlements on the Trinity river, east of Belknap, and commenced at once "raising Cain," as the frontier men occasionally term it, that is, they helped themselves to horses and cattle, burned buildings, destroyed crops, and did all kind of injury which their ingenuity, and a decent regard for the safety of their persons would permit; and Captain Ross was detailed with a body of men, to pursue them, and drive them from the country. We started off on a gallop, and continued it for some time, till we came in sight of a house, when we slackened up to a walk, in order to give the party time to get water; and while at the well, a woman walked out before us, and said:

"You're gwine after the Injuns, are you?"

I was in the advance, and replied politely in the affirmative.

"Gwine after the Comanches?" she inquired.

"Yes, Madame," I answered.

"Whose company is this?" she next desired to know.

"The Waco company--Captain Ross," was my response, feeling a conscious pride in our importance.

"I wish the Injuns may scalp the last one o' you," she shouted in a shrill voice.

I bowed politely, and the men all broke out into a laugh, which only increased her indignation; and as long as we were within hearing distance, her voice rang out maledictions upon our heads, and upon the heads of every friend of Captain Ross.

We soon found the intruding Indians, who proved to be a band of Kickapoos; and we were not long in routing and driving them out of the settlements. We did not even get close enough to fire a gun, so fleet, and so cowardly were the savages, who fled, at once, in the direction of Red river; and not caring to weary our horses, with a chase that promised not the remotest chance of success, we returned to camp.

Soon after, however, another company captured fifteen of these same Indians, and were returning with them to camp, when a party of enraged citizens came up, and fired upon the savages, who were mingled among their captors; so that the lives of the latter were in as much danger as those of the former; but luckily, no white men were killed, while two of the Indians were shot down, one dead and the other severely wounded.

This conduct of the citizens so infuriated the Rangers that they turned their captives loose, and told them to run for their lives; then, turning to the citizens, the Captain of the party ordered them to leave at once, or he would fire on them; and no second invitation to depart was needed, as the first was looked upon as very nearly approaching the peremptory; at least, it was a "broad hint." By that conduct, these settlers only caused to be let loose upon themselves a dozen or more marauders, who, in future encounters would have a double thirst for vengeance; and, who, but for their rashness, would have been disposed of, either by being sent beyond the limits of the State, or been held as prisoners till the war was ended.

_CHAPTER VI._

MORE ADVENTURES--MEETING AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

About the first of May, the regiment, under command of Lieutenant-Colonel Smith, set out from Belknap for Camp Radziminski, an old United States' fortified position, in the Washita mountains. We traveled hastily, stopping during the first night on the Trinity river, and on the second, at the Little Washita, at which latter place, our horses, from some unexplained cause, stampeded. I prevented my pony from escaping, but the lucky ones who did this were few. The entire day was consumed in picking up the fugitives; and by night, only four were missing. Two of these were the property of Col. Smith, and the others of private soldiers. On the following morning, I, with three others, started out to hunt the missing animals, the orders of the Colonel being, to follow the trail a few hours, and if we did not see the horses in that time, to give up the pursuit, and go direct to Radziminski, as rapidly as we could.

We, however, followed the trail over one hundred and fifty miles. The horses were trying to get back home; and though turned out of their course frequently, by rivers and mountains, they would seek the first available opportunity to resume it. Sometimes they would wander about so while grazing, that we would be a whole day in striking their trail again. After three or four days, we found two of the animals, which had got wound up in the ropes by which they were tied, and were unable to graze, and hence were nearly starved. We searched the country for the other two horses, but could not find them, when my companions with one accord, voted to return to the command, and let them go; but this I stoutly opposed.

They urged that we had already exceeded our orders, and done better than was expected of so small a party, and that we were in a country celebrated as an Indian hunting-ground, and therefore it would be folly for us to proceed further. I told them to go back, and take the horses, if they wished; but I should go on; that I could strike the trail again, by making a circuit of two or three miles; and that I felt satisfied that it was not more than forty miles to the settlements, in a southwesterly direction, from where we then were; and to tell the Colonel that I had determined to continue the pursuit.

About sunset we parted; they commencing a dangerous journey of one hundred and thirty miles, in a straight line, while I held on, in the general course the horses had been traveling. Directly on my route lay considerable of a mountain, which I ascended. The top of it was very level, and I traveled along it for about four miles, when I came upon a small trail. It was now night, but I could readily see by the light of the stars, that a stake rope had been dragged along the path; and this satisfied me that I was on the track of the missing horses. I at once commenced pursuit, until so wearied that I was compelled to lie down to sleep. On the following morning, I rode on, till about ten o'clock, when I came in sight of the settlements, the first house proving to be Murphy's ranch, fourteen miles from Belknap; and here I learned that the horses had passed the place, and been taken up in the town, and advertised as estrays.

Well pleased that my long ride would soon be over, and that I should recover the animals, I made the intervening fourteen miles with great speed, and a light heart; but alas for human foresight and calculations! The horses were gone. One had been ridden away by a Minute Man on a wild goose chase after the Comanches, while the other had been loaned to a mail carrier, and had escaped from him, while staked out to graze. On making inquiry, I learned that a horse answering to the description of the one which had broken loose, had been seen at Rock creek, eighteen miles distant; it had on spancels, my informant said, and a piece of rope was tied around its neck; and I at once concluded it was the missing animal, and rode out after it. Traveling in the direction of the point indicated, I came to a noted spring, where I expected to find the company encamped who had the other animal, but it had gone.

Being very hungry, I staked my horse to graze, while I could cook some rice, and make a little coffee at the old camp-fire, which had not yet died out; and while busily engaged preparing these articles, I was aroused by a short, quick, snort, and in a moment, the identical animal I had followed so long, came dashing down the hill at a breakneck speed, foaming with sweat and terribly frightened; while close at his heels were five stalwart Indians, on foot, doing their utmost to stop him, and turn him from his course.

The first thing I did, was to send a load of buckshot among the savages, and the next, to tie up the frightened animal, which ran up to mine and stopped; then, changing the saddle from one to the other, I threw out my rice and coffee and left the spot in haste. As I started, two or three guns were discharged at me; but I had no time to stop and inquire the cause. On my return to Belknap, I ate a hearty supper, and was put in charge of the mail for the regiment, which weighed about sixty pounds, and with which I at once left for Camp Radziminski.

The first day out I rode to the crossing of the Big Washita; and at Soldier creek I formed a mark for an Indian to try his bow--the arrow passing very close to my back. I had noticed for some time the tracks of two Indians, immediately along the wagon road, but had paid little attention to the matter. But discovering the presence of danger, I went back about a mile, and encamped for the night. On the following day I observed that moccasin tracks were plenty at the spring where they supposed I would go into camp, from which it is apparent that they believed me verdant in border warfare.

I knew that they were ahead of me, and felt certain of being waylaid; and had made certain that they were in a grove, hardly a mile from the river; and subsequent events evinced that I was not deceived. As I approached the grove, I left the path, and rode through the timber some distance away; and after passing entirely around the grove I again struck the road. After riding some distance, I turned and went back to a good place, and secreted myself in a thicket to wait; I had not been there many minutes when two savages came at a swift run, on foot--one about one hundred yards ahead of the other. When the foremost one was within about sixty yards of me, I fired, the shot taking effect in his right arm and side. He instantly seized the wounded limb in his left hand and bounded down the trail, toward the river, and was soon lost to sight. I followed as rapidly as possible, but they succeeded in crossing the stream, and secreting themselves among the bushes on the other side. Not caring to risk too much I let them go, and went back to the road, well satisfied that the Indian was mortally wounded and would die.

I crossed Red river that day, and for the first time lit a fire to cook; but scarcely had the smoke began to rise, when the wolves commenced gathering from all points of the compass. Being tired and desperately hungry, I put a cup of rice on the fire to boil, and also commenced preparing coffee; but long before the water was hot, the wolves came so unpleasantly near my horses, that they refused to eat, although tired and hungry; but came and stood by the fire where I was.

The wolves kept sneaking up closer and closer, until some were within ten paces, when I rashly concluded to kill one, just for sport; and aiming at a very large, gray one, I fired and he fell in his tracks. No sooner did the others get the scent of blood than they rushed in from all directions upon their fallen companion; and I had barely time to seize my cups and jump on my horse, before they closed in on me from all sides. Once mounted, I felt entirely safe; and I turned and fired a charge of buckshot into the pack that was devouring the dead one; then, wheeling my pony, I rode out from among them. When at a little distance off I halted my horse and again fired, this time giving them the contents of a six-shooter, well aimed; and every animal that received even the slightest wound, was instantly devoured by the remainder of the pack--sport for me, and I enjoyed it till I was tired, and rode off, leaving the unfortunate wolves to fight it out. I then rode off, keeping in the saddle till nearly morning, when I laid down to sleep in a state of glorious uncertainty as to whether I was on the right or the wrong road. The road forked on the plain, and I did not know whether to turn to the right or the left; but after studying awhile I took the right hand, and laid down to sleep upon my decision.

A little before daylight, I heard a heavy rumbling sound; and on awaking, I saw what appeared to be heavy clouds in the distance, and I at first believed the noise to be thunder; and the reader may well imagine that a drenching on the open plain was not a pleasant thing to contemplate. Presently, however, I concluded the noise seemed to be too suppressed for thunder, and, as I listened, I discovered it grew louder, and was rapidly approaching nearer. Springing to my feet, I saddled one horse, threw the mail-bag across the other and mounted. By this time, I could plainly discern the cause of the noise; on every side save one, I was hemmed in by a herd of buffalo. Hoping they would soon run by, I paused a moment to consider my chances; and in that moment the avenue for egress was closed, and I was compelled to run with the herd. They were traveling nearly in the direction I wanted to go; only gradually bearing a little to the right. By watching opportunities, I worked over to the left, and after keeping them company for about two miles, I succeeded in finding a gap and dashed out, and across a creek, up which the buffalo were running.

Once safe, I stopped to rest my horses and breathe freely, for we had been nearly suffocated with dust. I soon discovered what had started the herd, and was driving it forward with such speed; in the midst of the herd were a number of Indians, spearing and shooting with arrows, as if bent on the extermination of the last buffalo before sunrise.

I was not afraid of being discovered in the midst of such excitement as the savages were enjoying, if I could only keep my horses still; and to keep them quiet, I tickled them on the nose until the party was well out of sight, when I rode off, and in an hour, I found myself at Captain Burleson's camp on Otter creek, at the foot of one of the Wichita mountains.

The men were delighted with their letters, and they extended to me a hearty welcome; and, after I had rested a little, I was furnished with a guide who piloted me to the Colonel's quarters, some miles away. Lieutenant Colonel Smith was in command, and he was delighted to know that I had escaped so well, and congratulated me for persevering so long under discouraging circumstances, and kindly thanked me for recovering his own horse, and offered me a pecuniary reward, but this I refused.

Colonel Smith had been exceedingly annoyed at another stampede, which had occurred on the previous night, in which four hundred beef cattle had escaped. These being his chief reliance for food for his men during the approaching campaign, he naturally felt extremely anxious about the matter; and to add to his perplexity, while I was yet in his tent, an officer rode up and said he had followed the trail about three miles, when it was lost among the buffalo tracks, and that it would, therefore, be impossible to tell with any certainty in what direction to look after the missing animals.

At this point, I recollected seeing a trail cross mine, which I had examined to see if the tracks were those of horses; finding that they were not, I had supposed that a herd of buffalo had passed along there, and had left it, without giving it further attention. I reported this fact to Colonel Smith, who at once agreed with me that it was the trail of the cattle; and at his request I mounted a fresh horse and piloted a company of men to the place. A chase of over fifty miles then ensued, when we came upon the recreant beasts, and returned with them to camp, to the eminent satisfaction of at least one man in the regiment--the beef contractor. I once more was complimented by, and received the thanks of, the Colonel, who never withheld praise, when he believed an action merited it.

The Colonel was now called away on an official visit to some friendly Indians under the command of Pete Ross, a brother of my Captain, and I was selected as one of his escort, with a detail of nineteen others.

While sitting in the tent, a deputation of friendly chiefs arrived to arrange the preliminaries of the campaign against the Kickapoos, and judge of my surprise on seeing among the men the identical one who had been so anxious to convince me that I was a Texan Ranger, while on the road from the Caddo village to Fort Belknap. Before me stood Placido, Chief of the Tonchues, who was now on the most friendly terms with the people he so lately dreaded, and he gave me a cordial greeting. His warriors, as well as himself, recognized me instantly as the man they had catechised so severely; "but, now," they said, "we all good friends, and go catch 'um Comanche."

I was greatly pleased with Placido. His name was given him by the Mexicans, on account of his gentle disposition and amiable deportment; and as I may have occasion to speak of him frequently in these pages, I will briefly describe him to the reader. He was about fifty-five years of age, five feet nine inches high, with black, keen eyes, deep chest; he was also exceedingly muscular, but not corpulent. When the interpreter told him I was to be one of the party, he scrutinized me carefully, and, turning to one of his men, said, in broken Mexican, "'_Stah waeno_, (_esta bueno_)."

Once more the whole party extended their hands, telling me in half a dozen different languages, that we would be good friends.

_CHAPTER VII._

KICKAPOO CAMPAIGN--INCIDENTS.

In a short time after this consultation Colonel Smith started in his campaign against the Kickapoos, who had recently been busy at all kinds of depredations on the settlements; but their expeditions had all along been conducted so secretly that they were not even suspected, until we had nearly reached their country. We found them well prepared, and they gave us a warm reception. Just as we were about to leave Camp Radziminski a terrible storm came up, and the noise of the thunder, and the flashes of the lightning caused another stampede among our pack-horses; and just as their speed was at its hight, the lightning struck "Old Peg," a vicious pack-mule, ever ready to do mischief in the herd, killing her instantly, and as neatly as a bullet could have dispatched her.

Old Peg had scarcely fallen when a vicious horse, which always kicked and pranced after being loaded, as if to see if its burden was well strapped on, knocked an ax out of a pack, and as it was whirling in the air, kicked at it, and cut his hamstring, so that it was necessary to shoot him. The Indians, and not a few of the white men, seemed to regard this as a bad omen; but I looked upon it in a more practical light, as a special deliverance from unruly animals.

On our journey we had bad grass, bad water, bad fare, and bad luck; the measles broke out in camp, and a large number of the men became infected and helpless; and in this condition we reached the Kickapoo territory.

The tribe had mustered all its warriors, six hundred in number; and it had likewise received reinforcements from the Seminoles and from lawless, marauding bands of Creeks, amounting, in all, to about two thousand men; and this force, instead of awaiting an attack, took the offensive at once. Not anticipating so _warm_ and _cordial_ a reception at so early a moment, at the hands of so small a tribe, we concluded to decline a meeting; or, in other words, after holding a council of war, we resolved that it would be both politic and prudent to skedaddle; and accordingly we mounted our sick men--some of them so weak they had to be fastened on with surcingles--and started on our retreat. We commenced our retrograde movement at about nine o'clock at night, and in the morning we were at Camp Radziminski once more. We had but three hundred men in this expedition; but as the Kickapoos had no hope of cutting us off, and fearing that we would be reinforced, they very wisely gave over the pursuit. Indeed, throughout the whole affair the belligerents seemed to be inspired with a mutual fear--each party dreading to come to a direct encounter with the other, which rendered the campaign, on the whole, not a little ludicrous. When we were in the Kickapoo country we dreaded an attack from the enemy; and when the savages came in the vicinity of Radziminski they had a wholesome fear of annihilation there; and consequently the campaign ended with--nobody hurt. Our surgeon and myself once strayed away from the command, and came nearly being captured; but we escaped, and were the only ones in the party who were in danger.

It was daylight, in the morning, and we believed ourselves far enough in advance of the savages to have time to rest a few minutes, and eat our breakfasts. Awhile before this I had been sick of a fever--the result of over-exertion while on a scout--and it had fallen into my lower limbs, causing ulcerations; my feet being so swollen that I could not even wear moccasins. We had encamped near a beautiful spring, at the house of a white man with an Indian wife; and I had gone down to fill my canteen, and bathe my fevered limbs; which I did some distance from the fountain itself. But some one of the Rangers--thinking it a good chance to play a trick on me--sent information to the woman that I was washing my feet in the spring; but of this at the time I knew nothing, nor was I informed of it when I reached the camp. Entirely without suspicion, I accordingly returned to the spring for water to make coffee, and on reaching it a very pretty squaw stepped out from a tree near by, and confronted me. She spoke in a cheerful tone, but there was a wicked look in her eye, and one hand was held behind her. Her glistening eye, and the fact that she concealed one of her hands, appeared strange; but I was considerably more surprised when she addressed me in good English:

"Is your name Pike?"

"No," I answered in an off-hand way, and pushed for the spring.

"What is your name, then?" she demanded, in a suspicious voice.

"Tom Green; but, madam, what do you want?"

"Why, I wanted to see a man named Pike," said she, "who came down here, a few minutes ago, and washed his feet in my spring."

It was now a plain case; somebody had been perpetrating a joke at my expense. But I answered her coolly:

"All right, madam, if you want to see _him_, I will send him down as soon as I go up."

"I wish you would," she said viciously.

Up I went, and addressing a messmate, named Moore, told him there was a woman at the spring, who wanted to see him immediately.

He took his canteen with him, and started down the path, while I crept to the edge of the bluff to see what transpired. There was the squaw, again concealed behind the tree, watching Moore, who was advancing leisurely without the least suspicion; and when he was conveniently near, she stepped out, and demanded:

"Is your name Pike?"

"No," replied he.

"You lie, you son of a gun; didn't I just send a man after you, to tell you to come down here?"

The next instant she produced a big hickory club from the folds of her skirt, and, swinging it high in the air, was about to bring it heavily down on Moore's head, when he sprang quickly aside, and drew his pistol, and shouted:

"Look here woman, if you hit me, I'll be dad shammed if I don't shoot you!"

For a moment the squaw hesitated, and then lowering the club said:

"If your name ain't Pike, what is it?"

"My name is Moore," said he, in a loud, defiant tone.

"Well," said she, "look a-here, I want you to go to camp and tell Pike I want to see him."

"All right," said Moore, glad to get rid of her; "I'll send him down right away;" and up he came, laughing heartily at the joke.

I met him at the top of the hill and motioned for him to keep still; asking at the same time, who next we should send down; but our sport was suddenly spoiled by the order to "saddle up." While this was being done, several of the men went down to the spring to fill their canteens; and as each filed down the hill, the squaw confronted him, with,

"Is your name Pike?" each time only to be disappointed; but requested that "Pike" would be sent down at once.

After having mounted, I rode down to the bluff and called out:

"Madam, my name is Pike; what will you have?"

"O you villain," she shouted; "Is that you? just come down here, and I'll show you how to wash your feet in my spring; you dirty villain. Just wait till I get there," she added, in anything but an amiable voice, "and I'll show you," and she started for me; but I raised my hat politely, bowed, and wished her a good day. The last I heard of her was:

"You dirty villain, I'll show you--" and her angry voice died away in the distance.

While in camp at Radziminski, an Indian named Bowlegs, (so called because one of his legs had been broken, and so badly set that it was crooked), came to me with a very long face, and told me of a very grave misfortune which had occurred to him. He had lost his eagle feather and his "big medicine;" and he insisted that I should go out with him to find them. I readily consented, and following his trail for thirty miles, in the direction of the agency, we were successful. I discovered the treasures first, picked them up, and handed them to him; and never, at any other time, did I witness such excessive exhibitions of delight. He danced, and capered, and shouted, like a boy with a holyday ride in prospect.

The feather and the "big medicine," are prized by the Indian above almost all other possessions. The feather is, so to speak, the index to his nobility; and never did Spanish medieval hidalgo cling with greater pride to the banner of his family, than does the Comanche to the wild bird's feathers with which he decks his person. The warrior and his deeds are known by the feather, almost as particularly as they could be by a written chronicle of his achievements. If the quill is painted red, it indicates that the wearer has killed an enemy in battle; if split, it tells you that two warriors have fallen by his hand; and for each additional victim to his prowess, another plume is added; so that you have but to count the feathers, in order to determine, at least, the number of glorious achievements of the warrior. No one is permitted to wear a feather until he has been first to charge up and touch a fallen foe--been first in at the death; for those who thus recklessly throw themselves into the breach, are accounted the bravest; are accounted above the man even, who, at a distance, brought the enemy down by his bullet.

The "big medicine" was a root about an inch and a half long, somewhat resembling calamus, and it was bound to the feather by a strip of red flannel, about a foot long and an inch wide, and is worn tied to the scalp lock on the crown of the head; it is regarded as a charm against all the ills "which flesh is heir to;" and especially renders the wearer invulnerable to the bullets and arrows of the enemy. I failed to see it in that light, but took care not to make my doubts manifest.

From this Indian I learned a tradition somewhat after the order of the one concerning the founders of Rome. Crossing a plain on our way back to camp, we saw a very large wolf, which I asked him to shoot with his bow, as he was nearer to it than myself. He, however, peremptorily declined, saying:

"You shoot 'um; me no shoot 'um."

"Why you no shoot 'um?" I inquired. But he only repeated what he had said before, with greater emphasis.

I then became curious to know what superstition prevailed in the tribe to prevent the killing of so mischievous and vicious an animal; and on putting my inquiries, I learned that there is a tradition among the Tonchues, that the first of their tribe was nurtured during his infancy by a she wolf; and that the animal for this reason is regarded as sacred by that tribe. Where do such traditions originate? I leave such things to the antiquarian.

_CHAPTER VIII._

INDIAN WARFARE--SCALPING--CANNIBALISM.