Chapter VI: Front Matter (6)

Ex-Governor Carpenter, in relating his experiences as a member of the expedition, says that there was after the lapse of forty-one years a picture before him “of Capt. Charles B. Richards and Lieutenant F. A. Stratton ... with two or three of the men, cutting wood, punching the fire, and baking pancakes, until long after midnight; and as they would get enough baked for a meal they would waken some tired and hungry man and give him his supper: and the exercises in Company A were but a sample of what was in progress in each of the companies.”[249] Thus the greater portion of the night was spent by the solicitous officers in caring for their men.

After leaving Medium Lake evidences of the presence of Indians were observed from time to time. What appeared to be moccasin tracks were frequently seen. Cattle had been killed in such a manner as to leave no doubt that the work had been done by Indians. At Big Island Grove many signs of Indians were found. On an island in the middle of the lake the Indians had constructed a look-out in the tree-tops from which they were able to see the country for miles around. Better evidence still of the fact that their visits were recent was the report that the campfires were still glowing, and that fishing holes were found in the ice.[250]

Many members of the expedition believed that the Indians, after raiding the settlements at the lake, would cross over to the Des Moines and proceed south on a war of extermination; and the signs at Big Island Grove were very readily accepted as a substantiation of this belief. It is probable, however, that this was a mistaken conclusion. Sleepy-Eye had frequently rendezvoused at Big Island Grove, and the arrival of the expedition may have followed closely his departure on the spring hunting trip. It is not probable that Inkpaduta’s men went east of the lakes or south of Springfield.

On the evening of the arrival of the expedition at Big Island Grove, Major Williams decided that since they were evidently in the Indian country the march should thereafter be made with more caution. Accordingly, he called for volunteers for an advance scouting party of ten men whose work would be to precede the main expeditionary force and keep a sharp look-out for the near approach of Indians and to observe, interpret, and report any signs that might be discovered. They were to maintain an advance of perhaps three miles over the main column. Major Williams selected as the commander of this advance guard William L. Church, who of all the members of the expedition was the most familiar with the country in which they were now moving, since he had passed through it a number of times after settling at Springfield. Those who had volunteered as his companions were Lieutenant Maxwell, Thatcher, Hathaway, F. R. Mason, Laughlin, A. S. Johnson, De Foe, Carpenter, and another man whose identity seems to have been forgotten shortly after the return of the expedition to Fort Dodge.[251]

The members of the advance guard were astir early Tuesday morning; and while they breakfasted, rations for three days were made ready for each man. These rations when totalled amounted to forty pounds of corn meal and twenty pounds of wheat flour. In addition the men were allowed each a piece of corn bread about six inches square, which was supposed to be divided among the meals of the succeeding three days; but a number of the men, deciding that the easiest way to carry the bread was to eat it, immediately set about doing that very thing. The scouting party left the main body of the expedition about six o’clock on a beautiful winter’s morning--although it was in fact the closing day of March. Orders were given to the men to scout north, northwest, and northeast of the route to be followed by the main body. Lieutenant Maxwell and Laughlin, being true plainsmen, took the lead, while the remaining eight were soon envying “the ease and celerity with which” they “with their long legs and wiry frames, pulled through the snow and across the snow-drifts”.[252]

The advance had made about twelve miles when the men paused on the bare ridge of the Des Moines water-shed for the mid-day meal. Mason was stationed as sentry, while the others ate in the sheltered lea of the ridge. At some distance from the other members of the party, Mason had been at his post only a short time when he saw far to the northwest a black spot come into view. It soon became evident that the spot was moving. The attention of the other members of the party was called to the discovery. After sighting with their ramrods for some minutes, they too concluded that the object was really on the move. Furthermore it was agreed that the moving object must be a party of Indians; and so an attack was planned.

The squad advanced on the run to meet the party, which was probably two miles away. But no sooner had the whites started toward the “Indians” than the latter were observed to hold a hurried consultation. Between the two parties was a willow-bordered creek toward which each started for the apparent purpose of ambushing the other. The advance guard, having reached and passed the creek first, scaled the knoll or ridge of ground just beyond. Having reached the crest of the swell, the expeditionists prepared to fight. The opposing force halted and likewise seemed to prepare for defense. Before beginning the attack, however, the arrival of Church and a second man was awaited. When these men had come up, breathless but ready for the fray, the order to advance was given. Suddenly Church gave a shout and sprang forward exclaiming: “My God, there’s my wife and babies!” The “Indians” turned out to be none other than the refugees from Springfield, Minnesota. The meeting was both dramatic and pathetic. For days relatives and friends of the refugees had believed them dead--victims of Indian barbarities. Now some were reunited with their loved ones, while others received word that their kin were lying in the snows of the lake region or had been carried away in captivity by the Indians.[253]

A pathetic sight, indeed, were these terrified fugitives. “In the haste of their flight they had taken but few provisions and scanty clothing. The women had worn out their shoes; their dresses were worn into fringe about the ankles; the children were crying with hunger and cold; the wounded were in a deplorable condition for want of surgical aid. Their food was entirely exhausted; they had no means of making fire; their blankets and clothing were wet and frozen.... The refugees were so overcome ... that they sank down in the snow, crying and laughing alternately, as their deliverers gathered around them.”[254] The wounded were in a terrible condition. “Mr. Thomas was traveling with his hand dangling by the cords of his arm, having been shot through the wrist.”[255] They were “almost exhausted from the toilsome march, lack of food, exposure to the inclement weather, and the terrible anxiety of the previous week.”[256]

From the story of the refugees it seems that while painfully making their way southward, and almost ready to perish from cold, starvation, and physical exhaustion, they saw appear upon the summit of a ridge far to the southeastward a group of men whom they, too, supposed to be Indians. It happened that the men of the advance guard were wearing shawls as a protection from the cold, and so they really did have the appearance of blanket-clad Indians. The refugees were wild with terror for they felt that their end had certainly come. There was only one man in the party who really had the courage and was able to fight. Loading the eight rifles which were in the possession of the party, John Bradshaw prepared to meet the enemy single-handed, ready to sacrifice his life if necessary in the defense of the helpless members of the party. It is said that he stood rifle in hand until Church, breaking from the ranks of the advance guard, ran forward shouting for his wife and children. Not until then was it evident to the refugees that friends rather than enemies were approaching.[257]

Mason and Smith were chosen to carry the news back to the main body of the expedition, which at this time was nearly eight miles to the rear. Mason declares that he was so excited that notwithstanding his fatigue he ran the whole distance. When the messengers were within two miles of the expedition their coming was observed by Captains Duncombe and Richards who rode out to meet them. Major Williams was sent for and a consultation held. Mason, Duncombe, Richards, and Dr. Bissell were ordered by Major Williams to push forward as rapidly as possible to the aid of the refugees. At four o’clock in the afternoon the start was made, and so well did the men make the return trip that the fugitives from Springfield were reached about nine o’clock. The advance guard and the fugitives were found in the shelter of the creek willows over a mile from where they had been left. Camp had been pitched--if such it could be called. Meanwhile, a storm had come up and it was raining furiously, which only increased the sad plight of the starving and ragged refugees who were without adequate shelter.[258]

When the main expeditionary body arrived about midnight strenuous efforts were made to provide some sort of comfort for the distressed and starving fugitives. The only semblance to a tent in the expedition’s equipment--one made of blankets patched together--was provided them, and their wounds were dressed by Dr. Bissell. Being so near the scene of the massacre, it was feared that even then Indians might be in the vicinity of the camp. And so guards were placed to prevent a surprise attack. Since the men were greatly exhausted by the day’s efforts, they were relieved of guard duty each hour. Thus little rest came to any of the men that night. In the morning the refugees were again fed and provided with blankets by the expeditionary force from its already slender store. Being thus outfitted, they were given a guard and sent on to the Irish Colony. Mr. Church left the expedition at this point to accompany his wife and children to Fort Dodge and Webster City.

Learning from the fugitives the facts concerning the presence of the Indians at Springfield, Major Williams decided to push toward that point as rapidly as possible. When the march was resumed on the morning following the meeting with the refugees from Springfield, the expedition moved in the direction of Granger’s Point. John Bradshaw, Morris Markham, and Jareb Palmer did not continue with the refugees, but enlisted as members of the expeditionary force, each hoping for a chance to even up matters with the red men.

The march to the Granger settlement was enlivened by a little incident that aided much in detracting from the trying ordeal of the march. In the morning additional precautions were taken to guard against a surprise by Indians: a small group of men were selected by Major Williams to scout just ahead of the main body and ascertain if Indians might chance to be in the timber along the streams and about the lakes. The scouts were given orders to fire their guns only in case they found Indians. The advance had continued about three miles when the crack of a gun was heard, followed by a number of reports in quick succession from the timber just ahead. Immediately two men emerged from the timber on the run. Captain Duncombe who was about a mile in advance of his command thought the runners to be Indians, and he at once gave chase hoping to head them off before they could enter another grove a short distance beyond and for which they were evidently making. Being mounted, Duncombe soon approached near enough to recognize two of the expedition scouts.

It was soon learned that while passing through the timber two old hunter members of the squad chanced to see some beavers sunning themselves on the ice. Unable to resist the first impulse, they emptied the contents of their guns at the unsuspecting animals. The men seen running out of the timber were only chasing some of the animals that had not been killed by the initial volley. Meanwhile, the whole expeditionary force had been halted, and with loaded guns put in readiness for the attack. Some members, unable to control themselves, did not wait for the command, but broke ranks and ran toward the imagined Indians with guns ready for firing. After some little time the expedition was again restored to a state of order and the march resumed.

Upon reaching Granger’s Point that evening, they were very inhospitably received by a man and boy who were occupying the cabin. Little information and absolutely no assistance could be secured from them. They reported that they had no food, withdrew into the cabin, and barred the door. Within a brief time, however, a horseman arrived, who proved to be a United States regular from Captain Bee’s command which had but lately arrived at Springfield. He brought the information of Bee’s arrival, of the flight of the Indians westward, and of Bee’s sending a detail to Spirit Lake to bury the dead. He said, however, that the detail had visited only one cabin on Spirit Lake and had there found one body which they buried. They had made no attempt to reach the lower lakes on account of bad weather and roads and the shortage of provisions.

That night Major Williams called a council, and upon a review of the facts it was decided to abandon the chase. But since the bodies of the massacred were yet unburied, it was thought that a detail of volunteers should proceed to the lakes on that mission.[259]

XXIV

THE BURIAL DETAIL

When morning came the conclusions of the council were reported to the command, and volunteers, not over twenty-five in number, were called for to serve on the burial detail. The report met with a most cordial response and the full quota of volunteers was obtained at once. Those who signified their willingness to serve were: Captain J. C. Johnson and Captain Charles B. Richards, Lieutenant John N. Maxwell, and privates Henry Carse, William E. Burkholder, William Ford, H. E. Dalley, Orlando C. Howe, George P. Smith, Owen S. Spencer, Carl Stebbins, Silas Van Cleave, R. U. Wheelock, R. A. Smith, William A. De Foe, B. F. Parmenter, Jesse Addington, R. McCormick, J. M. Thatcher, William R. Wilson, William K. Laughlin, Elias D. Kellogg, and another whose name is not known.[260]

These men were placed by Major Williams under the immediate command of Captain Johnson of Company C; and on the morning of April second the detail, supplied with two days’ rations, took up its march for the lakes. From the outset their undertaking was precarious; with limited rations the men had no assurance that they would be able to secure any more supplies. Nevertheless, they courageously undertook the humanitarian task with the hope that somehow the future would care for itself.

The burial detail was to proceed to the lakes, perform the sad task of burying the dead, and rejoin the main command at the Irish settlement on Medium Lake. Accompanied by two mounted men--Captain Richards and another whose name is now lost--the detail set out upon its journey; but at the crossing of the Des Moines, the first stream reached, the horsemen were unable to force a passage. The men crossed safely on a log; but the horses could not be forced to swim the channel, and after an hour’s work Captain Richards, and his companion gave up the effort and returned to the main command.[261]

Without incident the members of the party reached the southeastern shore of the east lake about two o’clock in the afternoon. Making their way to the Noble and Thatcher cabin, they found the bodies of Enoch Ryan and Alvin Noble at the rear of the house. Each body had been riddled with bullets. The yard and adjacent prairie were thickly sprinkled with feathers which had come from the destroyed feather ticks for which the Indians had had no use. The bodies were buried at the foot of a large oak tree near the house. While some of the party were interring the dead at this cabin, others walked on to the Howe cabin where seven bodies were found lying about the cabin doorstep. Among the mangled remains found in the yard Thatcher identified his infant child. The burials at the Howe cabin were completed late in the afternoon; but darkness prevented the men from proceeding to the other cabins. Returning to the Thatcher cabin they there planned to pass the night. The body of the Thatcher child was interred near the head of a ravine not far from the Thatcher cabin. This was in keeping with the desire of the father that his child should be buried upon his own property. Returning to the Howe cabin the following morning, they found the body of a boy of about thirteen years of age lying at the side of a fallen tree in the dooryard. This apparently was Jacob, the brother of Mrs. Noble, whom she vainly tried to get into the house. The burial detail reported the interment of eight bodies at the Howe cabin.

From Howe’s cabin they proceeded to the settlements on the west lake. At this juncture the party was divided, and one section under Captain Johnson took the lake shore trail, while a second under Lieutenant Maxwell crossed the lake directly in line with the Mattock cabin. The Johnson party is said to have found the body of Joel Howe near the trail and to have buried it near the spot where it was found--a place which was lost sight of until its alleged discovery in August, 1914, by a young man, Lee Goodenough of Knoxville, Iowa, while attending a Young Men’s Christian Association camp.[262] At the Mattock cabin the dead were found widely scattered through the clearing and along the trail toward the Granger home across the strait. Every evidence of a desperate resistance was noted. Dr. Harriott was found with his broken rifle still grasped in his hand. Eleven bodies were collected and buried at this place.

Across the strait at the Granger cabin they found the body of Carl Granger horribly mutilated, as by cutting or slashing with some sharp instrument about the face. Near him lay his dog which had evidently remained faithfully by him to the last. The dog’s body was also terribly mangled.

The Gardner home was the last place to be visited. Here six bodies were found and buried about fifty yards to the southeast of the cabin on a spot said to have been designated by Eliza Gardner when she met the rescue party. As yet the bodies of Luce and Clark had not been found; indeed they were not found until the following June when they were discovered near the outlet of the east lake. Their burial place is not known.[263]

By the time the work of interment was completed at the Gardner cabin, it was late in the afternoon. The rations of the party were all but gone; but the night was coming on, and so the party decided to remain and camp to the north of the Gardner cabin. Fortunately Wilson’s memory came to the rescue of the party in their stress for food: he now recalled that in the fall when a visitor at the Gardner cabin he had seen Gardner bury a box of potatoes beneath the stove to insure them against being frozen during the winter. Upon investigation there was discovered nearly a bushel of the potatoes which satisfied the hunger of the men that evening and on the following morning.

After this potato breakfast on the morning of April fourth, sixteen of the twenty-three men composing the detail began the return trip; while seven of the party having interests to look after at the lakes, decided to remain a few days longer. Those who decided to remain were R. A. Smith, Orlando C. Howe, R. U. Wheelock, B. F. Parmenter, Asa Burtch, J. M. Thatcher, and William R. Wilson. Howe and Wheelock remained to make sure of their load of supplies which Parmenter had been compelled to abandon when his two companions started ahead of him to Fort Dodge with the news of the massacre.[264]

It appears, however, that the split in the party is to be attributed to something besides business demands. There was a disagreement over the best route to be taken on the return trip. While breakfasting that morning the discussion had arisen. The majority favored as direct a route as possible across the open prairie to the Irish Colony. Others of the party did not consider such a route to be safe, arguing that it would be better to retrace the route by which they had come--which route would lead them to Granger’s Point and thence to the Irish Colony. Meanwhile, a storm was gathering which seemed to add force to the arguments of those in favor of a known road.

The matter could not be settled by argument; and so, after breakfast Captain Johnson, gave the command to fall in. “After the men had fallen in he gave the further order, ‘All who favor starting at once across the prairie, step three paces to the front; the rest stand fast’.... What little provision was left in camp was speedily packed and the party made ready to depart at once.”[265] Captain Johnson and Burkholder urged united action upon the seven who stood fast; but the appeal was unavailing, for the seven men remained steadfast in their conviction that the course as planned was wrong. They offered to join the party if they would take the Granger route; but Johnson and Burkholder stood as firmly against that proposition as the seven were opposed to their plans. Thus the two groups parted company--good friends but each firmly convinced that the other was in the wrong. The members of the party that left took all the food, and were allowed to do so because those who remained behind counted upon securing their store from the wagonload of supplies which had been left somewhere out on the prairie.

The men who remained set out at once to locate the wagon and bring in the needed food. It appears that there was no difficulty in finding the wagon with its cargo of supplies. When each man had loaded himself with a supply, they returned as rapidly as possible for the gathering storm had broken and snow was falling heavily. In a short time, it became a blinding, driving whirlwind of snow. Reaching the cabin, they laid in a supply of fuel. Being well armed, they felt no alarm at the prospect of an Indian attack. All that could be done while the storm raged was to await patiently its abatement. Only after two days did the fury of the storm abate sufficiently to permit the men to leave the cabin in safety.

The morning of the second day after the beginning of the blizzard dawned clear and intensely cold, although the weather had moderated somewhat since the previous evening. The snow was frozen with a hard crust and upon it the party from the Gardner cabin made their way rapidly in the direction of Granger’s Point. When they arrived at the Des Moines they found the river completely frozen, which made the crossing easy. Thus with little trouble they were again at Granger’s Point where they had left the main body five days previously. They now procured a team and wagon, loaded their baggage, and, after resting a day, started for the Irish settlement. At this point they found some of the wounded from the Springfield settlement who had not been able to proceed with the main command. Here also was Henry Carse who, as will be seen, suffered so terribly on the night out from the Gardner cabin. Resting a day at the Irish settlement, they resumed their journey to Fort Dodge. What had been a small party on leaving the Gardner cabin had more than doubled in number when the Irish colonists were bidden goodbye.

When Cylinder Creek was reached the party succeeded through great effort in effecting a crossing. The undertaking required the whole of an afternoon, but by nightfall the men succeeded in reaching Shippey’s Point two miles beyond. “From here the party proceeded on their way to Fort Dodge, which they reached without further adventures than such as are incident to swimming swollen streams and living on short rations, which, in some instances, consisted of a handful of flour and a little salt, which they mixed up with water and baked over a campfire. A few of the party shot, dressed and broiled some muskrats and tried to make the rest believe they considered them good eating, but that diet did not become popular.”[266]

* * * * *

The early part of the day upon which Captain Johnson and party left the Gardner cabin, after the disagreement of the morning, was quite warm, and the rapidly melting snow added greatly to the difficulties of traveling. Being forced to wade through sloughs several feet deep in slush the men were soon wet to the shoulders. But they plodded on cheerfully for they were on the way home after the completion of an arduous duty. While they were in this cheery frame of mind, the blizzard broke upon them in all its fury about four in the afternoon. With the storm came a rapid fall in temperature, and it was not long before the clothes of the members of the party were frozen stiff from feet to shoulders--rendering progress next to impossible.

With the oncoming of the storm began the first disagreement among the men after leaving the Gardner cabin in the morning. Again, it was a matter of the best route to be taken. Jonas Murray, a trapper who had volunteered as guide, claimed to be thoroughly familiar with the country. Not all, however, were willing to accept his guidance. Spencer and McCormick were the first to break away from his leadership. This they did when Mud Creek was reached only about eight or nine miles from the point of starting. Crossing far to the north of where Murray maintained was the proper place, these men struck directly east for the settlement which they reached within a short time after the storm broke upon them.[267]

The other members of the party lost much valuable time in wandering southward along the course of Mud Creek. Finally a crossing was effected, but much farther to the south than several thought it should have been. Against the protests of a number, Murray continued to lead the party still farther south. Near sunset Maxwell and Laughlin found a township corner pit, at which they proposed to camp for the night since they feared the loss of direction in the oncoming darkness. But Murray, Johnson, and Burkholder, thought it best to continue and so the party pressed on.[268] Ahead of them was a lake to the east of which was a great stretch of uncommonly high grass which seemed to afford good shelter. Maxwell, Laughlin, and seven others started to walk around this lake to the east; but Johnson, Burkholder, Addington, G. P. Smith, and Murray went around in the opposite direction. Finding a shelter Laughlin called to Johnson’s party which could then only be dimly seen through the sedge. Apparently he was not heard, for the men struck out toward the southeast and were not again seen before the Irish settlement was reached. Laughlin’s party decided to remain where it was rather than attempt to follow.

As soon as the halt was made the men tumbled down in a shivering heap and huddled closely together to keep from freezing. In crossing sloughs several men had removed their boots to keep them dry, while others had cut holes in the leather in order to let the water out. Carse had removed his boots, but found it impossible to replace them for they were frozen stiff. He then tore his blanket into pieces and wrapped his feet as well as he could, but even then he suffered fearfully from the cold. Maxwell and Laughlin, realizing the danger of freezing to death, did not permit themselves to sleep the whole night through: they kept constantly on the move and compelled the others to do the same. Whenever any man fell asleep the others would pick him up, arouse him, and force him to remain awake and on the move regardless of his objections. Some of the men begged that they be allowed to sleep, protesting that moving about in their ice stiffened garments was worse punishment than they could bear. Thus all night long the awful vigil was kept. It was largely due to the tireless watching of Maxwell and Laughlin that no one froze to death, although the temperature that night was said to have been thirty-four degrees below zero at points in Iowa much farther south.[269]

The next day opened clear and cold. About eight miles to the east was seen a grove of timber. Every man expressed himself as willing and able to travel; and so without breakfast (for they had no food) the party started in that direction, believing that the timber bordered the Des Moines. Maxwell was the last to leave camp, and when about three miles from the timber he found Carse sitting on the sunny side of a small mound trying to pull on his frozen boots. The blanket wrappings of his feet had already become so worn in traveling over the ice and snow that he could go no further. Maxwell endeavored to take Carse along with him, but every time he tried to guide him toward the timber Carse obstinately insisted on taking the opposite direction. It soon became evident that the man had grown delirious and that nothing could be done with him on the open prairie. Henry E. Dalley, seeing the difficulty, came to Maxwell’s assistance. The two were able to get Carse to the timber, by which time he was unconscious and blood was streaming from his mouth.[270]

Laughlin and Kellogg, who had reached the timber first, had set about the building of a fire when it was discovered that not a member of the party had matches. Laughlin’s ingenuity, however, came to the rescue. He had a gun and powder, and was wearing a vest with a heavy, quilted cotton lining. Removing some of the cotton from his vest he loaded the gun with a powder charge and rammed it down tight with cotton. He then discharged the gun into a piece of rotten wood which, after some attention, began blazing. Dalley soon arrived with the helpless Carse. When the blanket wrappings were removed from Carse’s feet the skin of the soles came with them. Dalley finally succeeded in stopping the bleeding and in reviving him. It was only a few nights before that Carse had befriended Dalley by taking him under his own blanket. The boy--for such he was, being less than twenty years of age--was poorly clad and had suffered much from the trials of the expedition. His youthful strength and courage, however, carried him safely through to the end. Meanwhile, Kellogg had seated himself at the base of a tree and before anyone had observed his need for attention he too had become unconscious from exposure. Before he could be revived it was necessary to cut his icy clothing away from his body as the only practicable means of removing it. When this had been done he gradually regained consciousness and seemed but little the worse for his experience.[271]

Laughlin and Maxwell, having attended those who were needing help and noting that all were as comfortable as conditions would permit, started out to cross the river with a view to locating the Irish settlement. They found the river frozen thick enough to support them, with the exception of a few spots over which they improvised a bridge of poles. Making their way to the margin of the timber, they saw the settlement in plain sight not over three miles away. Help was at once secured which enabled them to get the disabled members of the party across the river and to safety in the homes of the settlement. Here they found Major Williams awaiting their coming.

Without delay Major Williams sent men down the Des Moines to look for Johnson and his companions. They remained out during the whole of the day; and when they returned near dark reported that they had discovered no trace of the men, but had found a cabin in which a good fire was burning. The Major concluded that the men had been at the cabin and had then gone southward, following the course of the river. Three of the five men in the party--Smith, Addington, and Murray--came to the settlement the following morning but could give little information concerning Johnson and Burkholder. Smith had been the last to see them; and his story left no doubt in the minds of most of his hearers that the two men had perished somewhere to the west of the Des Moines River.

The two unfortunate men having become completely exhausted by wading streams and sloughs had finally sat down declaring that they were unable to go any farther. They were sheeted with ice from head to feet. Their feet were badly frozen and, unable to walk, they insisted, against Smith’s advice, upon removing their boots. Realizing that they could not replace the boots they cut their blankets in strips with which to wrap their feet. At this time they were in sight of the timber along the Des Moines River, which they were urged to exert every effort to reach. But they were unable to rise from the ground. “After vainly trying for a long time to get them to make another effort to reach the timber, Smith at last realized that to save his own life he must leave them. After going some distance he looked back and saw them still on their knees in the snow, apparently unable to rise. It is not likely they ever left the spot where Smith left them, but, overcome with cold, they finally sank down and perished side by side.”[272] Nearly eleven years later two skeletons were found near the place where Smith said he left his companions. By the guns and powder flasks lying near them the skeletons were identified as being those of Johnson and Burkholder.[273]

XXV

RETURN OF THE RELIEF EXPEDITION

From Granger’s Point the return of the main body of the command was uneventful until the Irish settlement was reached and passed. It will be recalled that when the burial detail was outfitted nearly all of the scanty rations then remaining were turned over to them because of the probable hardships which would be encountered in venturing into the hostile lake region. Thus the main command was hard pressed in the matter of providing itself with adequate supplies. By the end of the first day the command had reached the cabin of an old trapper near the shore of Mud Lake. The experiences of the first night out are illustrative of the extremity to which members of the expedition were driven upon their homeward journey.

At the trapper’s cabin were found the frozen carcasses of some beaver, which it was thought could be utilized as food. But frozen beaver even when roasted failed to satisfy the hunger of the men. Captain Richards tells of one member of his company, George W. Brizee, who, as a result of exposure was suffering from a severe case of toothache and very sore feet. Finally, the pain in his feet grew easier. But “his tooth reminded him that it needed his attention; and after lying down and trying to sleep, frequently reiterating that he knew he should die, he got up and went out and returned with a hind-quarter of beaver and began to roast it over the coals; and in a half-reclining position he spent the entire night roasting and trying to eat the tough, leathery meat, first consigning his feet to a warmer climate, and then as his toothache for a time attracted most of his attention, giving us a lecture on dentistry; when his tooth was relieved for a short time he would, with both hands holding on to the partially roasted quarter of beaver, get hold with his teeth and try to tear off a piece! The picture by the weird light of the fire was a striking one”.[274]

The party did not tarry long at the Irish settlement, which was reached on the evening of the next day, since it was evident that the settlers had barely sufficient food to keep themselves alive and would surely suffer if the command remained for any length of time.[275] The day of leaving Medium Lake was a cloudy one and rather warm--just such a day as is sure to start the water running from rapidly melting snow. Only a short distance had been traveled when rain began falling--first as a drizzle, but by the time Cylinder Creek was reached it was a downpour. The prairies were flooded, while Cylinder Creek was about half a mile wide, completely covering its rather narrow bottom, which was under from two to five feet of water, while the main channel had a depth of fifteen to twenty feet and was from sixty to eighty feet wide. Obviously the problem of crossing would be a serious one. Arriving at the border of the valley about two o’clock in the afternoon the command vainly sought a passage. Then suddenly the wind veered sharply to the northwest and became a gale--the rain changing into a blinding fall of snow. This was the fearful blizzard of April fourth that overtook the Johnson party on its return from the Gardner cabin.

Captains Richards and Duncombe, not despairing of being able to effect a crossing of the main channel, undertook to improvise a boat out of a nearly new wagon box. With very little effort this wagon box was caulked water tight with bedquilt cotton. Solon Mason and Guernsey Smith were the men chosen to assist in getting the boat across the channel. But the wind blew so hard that, although Richards and Duncombe bailed water as rapidly as they could, the party scarcely reached the opposite side of the channel before the make-believe boat sank--the men barely saving themselves from drowning. Thus the attempt to take all across in that manner failed.[276] Having no blankets and unable to assist their comrades on the opposite side, there was nothing to do but hasten on to Shippey’s Point which was two or three miles distant.[277] This point they reached about nine o’clock at night. Here they were liberally fed, and by sitting around the fire all night were able to dry their clothes by exposing first one side and then the other to the fire.

When morning came the storm had abated somewhat, and so it was decided to return to the creek in an effort to locate the command. Mason had not gone far when he succumbed to the cold and had to be taken back. It seems that in crossing the Cylinder he had lost both overcoat and cap. Upon their arrival at the east side of the bottom the men could see nothing on the other side to indicate the presence of their comrades. After spending some time in trying to accomplish a crossing, they gave up the attempt and returned to Shippey’s. There they remained until about the middle of the afternoon when they again returned to the creek. This time they were no more successful than before. Resigned to the thought that the remainder of the command had either perished or returned to Medium Lake, they wandered back to Shippey’s. Shortly after their return, Hoover and Howland came in and reported that when they left the command all were safe on the west side, though suffering considerably while waiting for the channel to freeze.

Early on Monday morning, while the blizzard was yet raging and the cold was still intense, the little group at Shippey’s once more started for the creek in an effort to locate their companions. Reaching the creek, the little group saw the men on the opposite side making preparations to cross--the storm by this time having abated so that a crossing might be attempted. The creek was now solidly frozen so that the task of crossing was easy. The way to Shippey’s was soon made. Here they told the story of how they had saved themselves from the terrors of the awful storm.

From this story it appears that no thought of returning to the Irish settlement had been entertained by those who had been left behind. Major Williams and two or three others had, indeed, returned, hoping that they would there find the burial detail and guide them to the Cylinder Creek camp. Those at the latter place resolved to remain and await the dying down of the storm before making any further attempt at crossing; and they set to work to improvise a shelter. Again the tarpaulin wagon covers were brought into use and supplemented with blankets, which when fastened together were stretched around and over the wagon frames and then staked down to the frozen ground. This improvised shelter was completely closed excepting a small flap opening on the south or lea side which served the purpose of a door. Then with blankets and other covers a common bed was made; and into this the party crowded, wet from head to feet. Here they remained from Saturday night until Monday morning when a few ventured out to examine the state of the weather.[278] Finding conditions satisfactory they began the crossing after having tarried “_over forty hours, without food or fire, on the open prairie, with the mercury at 32° below zero_.”[279]

It is little wonder that when they started to make the crossing the men had scarcely “strength enough to reach the opposite shore.... Every man’s mouth was open wide, his tongue hanging out, and in some instances blood running from nose or mouth.”[280] Governor Carpenter, in commenting upon this terrific test of endurance notes that “since that experience upon Cylinder Creek, I have marched with armies engaged in actual war. During three and a half years’ service, the army with which I was connected, marched from Cairo to Chattanooga, from Chattanooga to Atlanta, from Atlanta to the Sea, and from the Sea through the Carolinas to Richmond.... But I never in those weary years experienced a conflict with the elements that could be compared with the two nights and one day on Cylinder Creek.”[281]

After refreshing themselves at Shippey’s the men held a consultation and reached the decision that henceforth the command should break up into small details--a plan that seemed necessary on account of the increasing difficulty of securing food. Each group was to find its way home in the best manner it might be able to devise. Every man was ordered to rid himself of all surplus baggage, retaining only his blanket. Thus the expedition really came to an end with the crossing of Cylinder Creek. But the hardships of the men were not ended; before a number of the squads reached home they endured trials almost as severe as those encountered before crossing the Cylinder.

The experience of the little group which Frank R. Mason undertook to guide is perhaps typical of the hardships of the journey south from Shippey’s. Mason had frequently been north of Fort Dodge hunting in the timber along Lott’s Creek, and for that reason he was selected by a Webster City group to pilot them home. With his party he struck out boldly across the prairie in a line which he thought would lead to a clearing in the timber where he knew they would receive a hearty welcome. As darkness came on the men began to show exhaustion; but the looked-for timber along Lott’s Creek did not appear. One of the men, Hathaway by name, became wholly exhausted and had to be carried. Within a short time he became delirious; and then the united efforts of three of the party were needed to keep him under control, with only indifferent success. Finally passing into a stupor he was more easily managed.

When Mason and his companions reached the timber at about eleven o’clock the expected cabin could not be found. The men grew impatient and at times were inclined to criticize Mason as an incompetent guide. Having reached a slight elevation or ridge, and despairing of locating the cabin, they prepared to spend the night. Snow was cleared away until the bare ground was reached and upon this they threw themselves. They had had no food since the start; indeed they had not brought any with them, for they had expected to reach the cabin before nightfall. When they had lain sleepless for nearly an hour, voices were heard and out of the darkness appeared human forms.[282] The newcomers were Mr. and Mrs. Elwood Collins who were returning from an evening spent at a neighbor’s home.

The finding of the men is thus described by Mrs. Collins. “Husband and I, after having stayed later than usual at a neighbor’s, started for home.... All at once the outline of dark objects appeared before us.... I at first thought we might be upon a company of Indians! We were too near to retreat.... I then heard groans of distress, and I thought sobs.... We had a lantern, and as the light shone upon the place my pity was truly stirred. There, with the snow crushed beneath them, were eight men; some sitting, some reclining, and others lying flat upon their backs!”[283]

Having been piloted to the clearing the men slept that night in the cabin loft. In the morning they breakfasted hastily and resumed their journey to Webster City. Hathaway and Gates had to be left at the cabin as they were not able to proceed. This day’s experience was but a repetition of the previous one. As darkness fell the men were again exhausted, but by crawling on hands and knees they managed to reach the cabin of a Mr. Corsau where they were taken in for the night. On the following day they were taken by Corsau to Webster City. Thus ended, for this Webster City group, the fearful experience of attempting to relieve the settlers of the lake region from Indian attacks.

For the Fort Dodge men the task of making their way home was easier, as it did not necessitate the crossing of as many streams--which at this time were in flood condition. At the same time their trip was not lacking in incidents of trial. They arranged the march from cabin to cabin so that they might have no difficulty in procuring food, for they, too, made no attempt to carry supplies. More than once the men experienced trials similar to those encountered by the Mason party, and like them they too found the place searched for before hope was gone. Within three or four days after leaving Cylinder Creek, all parties had straggled in--weary, worn, and wasted. They were met with a hearty welcome from friends who had thought them in all probability lost on the northwestern prairies. All who had volunteered in the expedition returned home in safety, except Johnson and Burkholder who perished in the snow.

XXVI

THE DEATH OF MRS. THATCHER

From March twenty-sixth to April tenth, while the relief expedition from Fort Dodge and Webster City was making its way painfully to and from the scene of the massacre at the lakes, Inkpaduta and his band continued their flight. When Lieutenant Murry’s men had been sighted by the look-out, warning of their approach was communicated through the Indian camp. The warriors crouched among the willows along the creek ready to spring out upon their pursuers, while the squaws and children made hurried preparations for a hasty retreat if need be. Meanwhile, a warrior stood guard over the helpless white captives with orders to shoot them the moment the soldiers should attack. But Coursalle and La Framboise, who were guiding Murry’s men, declared that the signs were so old that pursuit would be hopeless; and so the soldiers returned to the main command. No sooner had they started on their return than Inkpaduta fled from his temporary camp and began the long journey to the Big Sioux, the James, and the region beyond.

The Indians were now thoroughly alarmed at the nearness of danger, and for two days and nights they kept up a continuous flight. No stops were made to prepare food: if they ate at all it was while they were on the move. Such a sustained flight would have been arduous enough for untrained marchers under the most favorable conditions, but for the women captives it was terrible. Not only were they compelled to wade through snow and slush but they were burdened with loads which might well have been regarded as too heavy for men to bear.

Mrs. Marble states that upon leaving Heron Lake she and her associates “were forced to carry heavy packs, and perform the degrading and menial services in the camp ... that the pack ... consisted of two bags of shot, each weighing twenty-five pounds, and a lot of camp furniture, increasing the weight of the pack to 100 pounds. On top of this heavy load ... was placed the additional weight of an Indian urchin of some three or four years of age.”[284] The papoose which she was supposed to carry seemed to consider that it was entitled to as many liberties and as much attention when carried by her as it would have enjoyed if in the care of its mother. Mrs. Marble objected to making friends with the baby, and watching her opportunity would scratch it in the face until the Indians, hearing its cries, finally concluded it didn’t like her and took it away.

Abbie Gardner, though but a girl, was also burdened with a pack--though its weight was somewhat less than that carried by Mrs. Marble. It was made up of “eight bars of lead, one pint of leadballs, one tepee cover made of the heaviest, thickest cloth, one blanket, one bed-comforter, one iron bar, three feet long and half an inch thick ... one gun, and one piece of wood several inches wide and four feet long, to keep the pack in shape.”[285]

This burdening of the captives was the more objectionable to them since the Indian men were encumbered with nothing but a gun. As a matter of course the squaws carried packs, but they were accustomed to such burden-bearing and knew how to save themselves from its ill effects. Moreover, the squaws were frequently equipped with a sort of crude snowshoe which greatly aided them in walking. The white captives sank deep into the snow at every step. They dared not stop to rest, for whenever they slackened their pace the Indians would level guns at them and resort to various other devices to keep them moving.

The food which the Indians had secured at Okoboji and Springfield supplied them for about four weeks. Following this they made little or no effort to secure food by hunting. If game crossed their path they would kill it--if they could do so without much effort. But there was no organization of hunting parties. After the confiscated supplies were exhausted, they contented themselves with muskrat and skunk; and as a luxury, Mrs. Sharp relates, they indulged in dog. As spring opened they were able to secure a few ducks and geese, which seemed very plentiful, but of which the Indians obtained only a few. Such delicacies, however, were never shared with the captives: they were not even allowed to assist in their preparation.

The treatment of the horses secured at Okoboji and Springfield was still worse. There was neither hay nor grass--little or nothing upon which the horses might feed. Even so they were given but slight opportunity to feed. Before the Big Sioux had been reached nearly all of the horses taken in the raids at the lakes had died of starvation.[286]

Continued pursuit and ultimate capture by the soldiers seem to have soon lost their terrors for the Indians. Although they kept constantly on the move, progress was not very rapid--largely owing to the huge drifts of snow over and through which they were compelled to travel. Their first stopping-place, after nearly two weeks of uninterrupted marching, was at the great red pipestone quarry in southwestern Minnesota. This was but little more than one hundred miles northwest of Heron Lake. Here they remained for a day quarrying pipestone and fashioning pipes. A further cause for delay was the fact that the snow was rapidly melting and travel, even for the Indians, was very difficult.