Omaha—Homestead Land—Coming Onto the Plains—Cold Winds—Platte Valley—Republican Forks—Fort Wallace—Big Sandy—Old Battle-Ground—Arkansas Valley—Irrigation Farming.
Omaha—Homestead Land—Coming Onto the Plains—Cold Winds—Platte Valley—Republican Forks—Fort Wallace—Big Sandy—Old Battle-Ground—Arkansas Valley—Irrigation Farming.
The greatemigrant landof which we had heard so much had at last been reached, and the din from the streets of the greatwestern exchangewas borne to our ears upon the evening breeze. Omaha is built upon the side of a large hill, and is quite a pretty place; and being the wholesale city for many miles of the surrounding country, business is lively, and the people sayhard timesnever reach them. We could but wonder, as we gazed upon these two cities, perched as they are upon hill-sides upon opposite sides of the river, and covering the surface which was solatelythe rich pasture-land of the wildprairie animal. Truly, said we to ourselves, there must be some virtue in the surrounding country which supports these rapidly-growing cities.
Eager to learn the true merits of thehomestead land, we pushed boldly into the country, witheyes keen to see the advantages and disadvantages of the great, historical,poor man’s home. Proceeding but a few miles from the river-banks we opened into theland of promise. Here lay a broad, rolling, and fertile prairie, all covered with richest vegetation and well watered in all directions. Timber had entirely disappeared, except the pretty littlecotton-woodswhich gilded the banks of most all the little streams. Many homesteads have been taken up here, and the little sod-houses which dot the country in all directions mark the abodes of the settlers. Timber being very dear, the country is not incumbered with fences, and the dark, rich surface being as beautiful as any the sun ever shone upon, the scene, upon the whole, was trulyimpressive. A great deal of the sod has been broken, and the rich, golden grain that waves in the western wind speaks the great strength of the soil. All the latest improved farming implements are used here, and tilling and sowing those large, clear fields is perfectly delightful. Lands along the railroads are being rapidly improved, and ere long the eastern and southern parts of Kansas and eastern Nebraska will find a place upon the first pages of the agricultural history of America.
Many poor families from theoverthrongedEast have found themselves fine homes here, and from the rapid growth of the country they are promised great wealth. The eastern part of Kansas being of the same nature as that just described, we simply remark that the voice of the pen is too feeble to do justice to so beautiful a country.
Kansas and Nebraska are included in what Fremont termed the “Great American Desert,” in the year 1842; and the settlers say that even as late as ten years ago places that are now productive were barren and sandy. It appears that the more farming there is done there the greater the dampness becomes; and they now have plenty of rain where everything used to parch. Some think the whole western plains will at some day become productive; but more of that hereafter.
Game is quite abundant here, and the prairie-chickens often fly up in such great flocks that the hum of their wings sounds like thunder. They flyveryswiftly. Here the firstjack rabbitshowed himself to us, and upon our giving chase we were greatly surprised at his sudden disappearance with only a light streak through theair to mark the course he had taken. They are about four times as large as thecotton-tails, and have ears about five inches long. We had a great deal of sport at hunting, and spent many days wandering up and down this beautiful country, visiting the settlers in their humble homes, and conversing with them of olden times and their experiences in the settling of a new country. They were very hospitable, and though a little sod-house and stable, with grass growing green upon every part but the doors and windows, sitting out alone upon the wide prairie, without a fence and often without a tree to shelter them from the broiling summer’s sun, usually constitute their homes, they are nevertheless happy, and say that though their accommodations and conveniences are very limited, and they do not get a high price for their produce, their crops are usually abundant, and they can live off of this until things can develop. It has been discovered by trial that timber grows very rapidly, and whole acres of little walnut and cotton-wood sprouts lately planted promise that at some time in the future there will be some pretty forests here. When this is the case, the birds will immigrate here, the insect tribe—such a pest to the country—will diminish, and the settlers will sit in their doors in the thick, beautiful shade, and listen to the songs that are sung in the green foliage. As it is, the flies are very troublesome through the day, and at night you are compelled to build a smudge and sit in the smoke to keep the mosquitoes from carrying you off.
Thinking that perhaps this part has beensufficientlydescribed, I will refer the reader to the letters which close this work forunmentionedparticulars, and again turn our faces toward the west. We had not traveled many days, however, until settlements had dwindled to lonely domicils upon the wide prairie; the dark, rich soil began to fade to a lighter and more sandy, and great herds of cattle tramped the unbroken surface. A few weeks more and all vegetation had faded away, and we were upon the Fremont desert. The grass, instead of being long, slenderprairie-grass, was short, thickly-set buffalo-grass. The soil was dry and scarcely ever knew a rain; and then it was that we found ourselves upon the great western plains. The surface is usually smooth, and perfectly delightful to travel over, and we could sometimes see for many milesaround us. But thedangerof traveling in this dry, barren wilderness, where scarcely any one lives, and of which we had beenwarned, we now began to realize. True, there were old, deeply-wornemigrantroads, one via Kansas City, and one via Omaha and Cheyenne, which we could have traveled with comparatively little danger or difficulty; but it was our purpose to see and experience somethingnew, and accordingly we chose the wild prairie. We had purchased abarrelat Lincoln, Nebraska, which we always filled when leaving water, and with no guide but the compass we boldly sped onward, not knowing what each day would bring forth. The scene, however, was materially the same—one broad, open plain, stretching out like an ocean as far as the eye could reach. Our camp at night was truly a lonely one, with no company but the shy antelope that sniffed the air at a distance, and nothing to break the deep, death-like stillness that reigned around us but the howl of thegrey wolf, whose keen eye was upon our every move. Stretching ourselves upon a blanket, with nothing but the starry heavens above us, we lay dreaming of killing buffaloes, scalping Sitting Bull, and other adventures too numerous to mention.
We had often heard of thecold windsand sudden changes in the atmosphere that all the western country was subject to, but our firstexperienceon this score was while traveling in western Nebraska, on the seventh day of September. The morn was a bright and glorious one, and as we steered our way over the dry desert we remarked that a more beautiful day we had never seen. But about three o’clock the atmosphere began to change and the wind to blow a hurricane. In the course of an hour the soft, warm wind had changed to a howling, wintry storm, and we were compelled to unhitch and picket our horses, and make our bed in the wagon as a retreat from the piercing winds which almost lifted us from the ground. It was almostimpossibleto keepwarmwith our light covering, and only after we had torn up every spare cloth we had to stop the cracks in the wagon-bed, we succeeded in rendering ourselves tolerably comfortable. A peep at the horses showed their shivering, and the big blood-hound under the wagon lending his tones to the winds that hurried by, spoke the necessity of sharing our comfort with him. This he gladly accepted, and without anything to eat ordrink we lay covered over head and ears until the next day at noon. We then stepped from our asylum to hear the last roar of the hurricane dying away in the distance, and warm ourselves in the sun which had burst its stormy veil. This little fast had keened our appetites, and we eat our dinners with a relish. After turning our horses to graze for awhile, and watering them from the barrel, we resumed our journey over the dry desert, and at length reached the valley of the Platte. This valley iswideandlevel, and is carpeted with the richest pasture. With its cool, purple waters rolling through the thick shade of the little branching cotton-wood trees, piercing the dry, barren plain, bereft of bush or weed, it appears a perfect paradise. Great herds of cattle feed upon the green grass, and every ten or fifteen miles there is a little pole-shanty and picketcorralbuilt upon the river-side among the trees; and here stay the cow-men, one at a place, to watch over the cattle. They make a trip afterprovisionsonce a year, and of course do their own cooking. They always have the best ofmeat; and this, with biscuits, is about all they eat. It is very often that they do not see a man for several months; and,strange to say, they are used to that way of living and enjoy themselves better than many who live in a land of luxuries, surrounded by mankind, where the din of business is noisy and loud. They have five and six ponies apiece, and their buffalo and antelope chases over the river-hills are as pleasant and exciting to them as though viewed by thousands of people. We had many pleasant chats with them, and many a feast did we have together.
I had seen many heavy storms, but I assure you I thought we had entered the store-house of thunder-storms when we came into this valley; for such terrible rumbling and glaring I had never heard nor seen. I tell you, when the thunder bursts forth with an earthquake shock and reverberates among the river-hills, and the lightning begins to play upon the cattle’s horns, these old hunters and herders, who have been hardened in the wilds for many years and who have seen the bloodiest of frontier life, come to their knees.
Leaving this valley we steered south-west and struck the valley of theRepublican, at the forks of the river, one beautiful evening just as the sun was tinging with gold the western sky.Who can imagine thebeautyof this valley,—as it appeared to us,—all decked with little branching cotton-wood trees and carpeted with velvet green, winding its way through the midst of the broad and silent wilderness. The great herds of cattle reclining beneath the trees, the voices of the little calves borne to our ears upon the evening zephyrs, and the rude shanty upon the bank of the stream, all spoke of comfort and content, and we could not help recognizing this as ahappy home, though far in the western wilds. The lone man who lived there appeared to be glad to see us, and we were not a little delighted to converse with one who had lived with his herds for many years upon the frontier. He told us how comfortably he could live there and how rapid were his gains with so little outlay. He told us that we could find cow-ranches upon almost everystream in the West, and explained to us the way the business was carried on. Upon his telling us there were many buffaloes a few days’ journey to the north-west, among thesand-hills, we became very impatient and could hardly wait for the morning to start upon a buffalo expedition. When we were ready to start, he said we should be a littlecareful, for theCheyenneshad broken from the agency, and while on the war-path were scalping hunters and cattle-men in all directions. Johnny having stopped for ahomeineastern Nebraska, we were but two in number, but—in our estimation—a more precious two never died in any country. There was as much danger upon one side as upon the other, however, and we were going for the buffaloes, Indians or no Indians. It was part of ourmissionto kill Sitting Bull and Spotted Tail, and this might prove to be a favorable opportunity.
We had not left the valley far when we came among the great sand-hills, which grew higher and softer until they were almost untraversable. Keeping in the vicinity of a small stream called Rock Creek, which courses its way among the bluffs, we traveled several days, keenly watching for anything that looked like meat. We never became careless, however, and the fire was always deadened before dark, while the wagon was placed upon some high spot for the night, in order to avoid the treachery that might be lurking behind the hills.
Breaking our way through the soft, deep sand, we were compelled to travel very slowly. Sighting a singlebuffalo, upon one occasion, we fully expected to find a great herd behind every hill. That was the only one, however, that we got a glimpse of; and not having killed even arabbitsince we left the river, and our horses becoming very much worried, we concluded to turn back. The manyskeletonsthat were scattered over the face of the country showed that the soft surface was notalwaystrackless, and that we were not the first hunters who had plowed the sands of that region. However, the great herds that we had expected to find had sought another range, and not even a wolf howled in the deep silence. We could but feel a little discouraged at so great a disappointment; and as we journeyed back toward the river, each mile was an effort.
We reached the river again after a circuit in the sand-hills of just fourteen days; and during this time we had eaten nothing but flap-jacks. It is needless to say that we were hungry formeat, and there being manycattlein the valley, we imagined the little calves to be buffaloes; and it was not long after sight, nor with much ceremony, that we were eating something that had not stuck in our teeth for two long weeks.
After learning from an old hunter, whom we met on the prairie, that buffaloes journeyednorth in the spring and south in the fall, we determined to follow them if they went toSouth America.
In an unsettled country there are, of course, no bridges over the streams and chasms, and not many good crossings. So, choosing what we thought to be a good place to cross, we splashed into the waters of the Republican. The stream is about one hundred yards wide, and in some places is real deep. This was our first experience inquicksand; and we managed to get to about the middle of the stream, when, in about two feet of water, the wagon dropped to the axle in the sand. The longer it stood the deeper it sunk, until there was not much wagon above the water. Being lightly loaded we jumped into the water, and after lifting the wheels to let the sand wash under them, John lifted while I tried to start the team. But the wind was blowing and the water waving, and the horses being in about as deeply as the wagon, it was no go, and we were the worst stuck outfit that river ever knew. This was the first time that we had ever yielded thathellwasupon earth; and I will bet that if old Father Moses and his followers had been stuck in thequicksand when crossing the channel of the Red Sea, and had felt as we did at that time, Pharaoh and all his hosts would have been nothing to whip. However, after struggling for some time the horses became as impatient as ourselves, and we began to yell desperately. The water began to splash. The cattle of the vicinity becoming excited, curled their tails up over their backs and began to run and bawl. The wagon began to move, and we were soon safely landed on the other side. Not taking the Irishman’s advice, we had omitted laughing before we started in, and being now too much fatigued we concluded that there was no fun about the affair, and only looked back to think what a job to cross aRepublicanand to sympathize for one moment with the poor Democrats.
It had been some time since we had been where we could buy anything, and our supplies running short, we steered south for Fort Wallace, Kansas. This was several days’ travel—and lonely ones they were to us, too, seeing but two men until we arrived within a few miles of the fort. We found most of the ranchmen of the vicinity centered there for protection from the savages, who had been scalping within sight ofthe government fort. We were heartily congratulated upon our safe arrival through the very heart of dangers; but we had been told this too often to appreciate it, and partly concluded that it was not aloneluckandchancethat took us through, but that there must be something bold or daring in our appearance.
How like home it appeared to us when we saw the blue smoke curling from the chimneys, the children playing around their homes, and heard the shrill whistle of the engine which pierced the deep silence of the open plain.
This little town is comparatively an insignificant place of fifteen or twenty houses, and is situated in the midst of a dry and barren prairie, far from the beauties of civilization and cultivation. Nevertheless, here were houses whose walls echoed the cheerful din of several families. Domestic animals were feeding in the vicinity, and here were the United States wagons, passing back and forth to the fort which stood in the distance. All this spokehomeandcomfortto us; and it is needless to say that after a journey of many days in the solitude of the wilderness, during which time we saw but few persons and scarcely a trace of human mechanism, we weredeeply impressed and let our reflections carry us back to the land from whence we came. After enjoying the novelty of the place, which is but a star in the prairie-world and connected with civilization by naught but the iron rail, we prepared for further adventure.
There is not the least plant cultivated here, and the most exorbitant prices were charged us for our little necessaries. I recollect I wanted to buy a funnel here to use with our water-barrel. I had never bought afunnel, but I supposed a small one would cost about twenty-five cents. So I picked out one to suit me and threw down fifty cents to the store-keeper, and looked for change. Now, what do you think? Why, he stood there looking at me until I asked him what he wanted. “I want the rest of the price of that funnel.” “Why, what is the price of it?” said I. “Six bits; the usual price is a dollar,” said he. I felt a little surprised at being asked seventy-five cents for a little funnel; so I said to him, “Is it silver?” “No.” “Is there any virtue in it that would be conveyed to the water upon running through it?” “No.” “Well, then, is it a legacy from your grandmother? or what the thunder makesit so valuable?” said I, appearing somewhat curious. “Well,” said he, “I will give you five minutes to settle up.” “Well,” said I, “this is too valuable a thing to take out on the prairie and run the risk of its being stolen, so I will give you just five minutes to hand over that half dollar.” He said I had bought the funnel and must pay for it. At this I grabbed four funnels, and told him that I considered I was in hell anyhow, and if he thought he could better or worse my condition any to just draw his brakes; and we started for the door. He came running after us and said he would let us have the funnel for fifty cents. We told him we did not need any funnels. “Well,” said he, “here’s your half dollar.” “Well,” said I, “you owe me more than that.” “Why, how can that be?” said he. “Why,” said I, “if everything else is worth so much, money is worth something too, and that half dollar has drawn twenty-five cents interest.” “Well,” said he, “this is hell!” We told him that was what we took it for, and went on. He came running into the prairie and paid us the fifty cents, with interest, and took his funnels. If we could have got him a little farther from the fort we would have chargedhimcompoundinterest and all the funnels; but under the circumstances we concluded to settle reasonably. We then picked up an old oyster-can and set it over the hole in the barrel, and with a picket-pin and the ax we drove a hole through the bottom of the can, and then had a funnel and a quarter for our trouble.
We now steered for Colorado, due west. Stopping at theSmoky Hill Forkto fill our barrel, we were told by a ranchman that the next water in that direction was theBarrel Springs,—so called from the barrels sunk there by hunters years ago,—thirty-five miles distant. We had not had anytroubleabout wateryet, and did not think it necessary to ask many questions. So we marched as true to the direction pointed out to us as possible, and wended our way slowly along, killing jack-rabbits and antelopes for supplies, and conversing upon such subjects as would best pass away the time. Our barrel held seven bucketfuls of water, and the drive being but thirty-five miles, we were in no hurry and not as saving with the water as we might have been.
The first night out was a pleasant camp, and a little chase afforded us great sport. Directlyafter striking camp upon a spot whence we could see several miles in any direction, so level was the surrounding country. A deer was seen watching us in the distance. “Ah,” said John, “now for a race.” So, with carbine in hand, he mounted the gray mare; and the deer was soon seen bounding away with head erect, and John in close pursuit. Luckily forme, the chase was around camp; and the fun of viewing that race was all to myself. Thedeerat first appeared to think it all sport; but seeing the gray mare gaining upon him, and John’s long hair streaming in the wind while hurling lead from the old carbine, he appeared to realize his situation, and started off as if in a race for life, only touching the high places. John slowly returned from the chase, and riding into camp asked me if we needed any meat. “If we do,” said he, “I can get that deer very easily.” “Oh,” said I, “that meat is like the funnel, it is toodearentirely. I suppose we can do without it.”
The next morning, after taking our breakfast, we moved on, expecting to reach the Barrel Springs about noon, having but one bucket of water left. Noon came, and no water was left in the barrel; and the springs were not yet in sight.Twilight began to curtain the light of day, and our suspicions were aroused lest we had passed the looked-for spot. The weather was warm, the air dry, and our horses that night looked in vain at the empty barrel that lay drying in its hoops, and from which they had quenched their thirst so often. Our sleep that night was haunted with the thought of our probably serious condition; and the next day at early dawn, without breakfast, we hastened in the prescribed direction, knowing that if we had passed the springs, which was the most probable, it might be many miles before we could again find the cooling fluid so essential to life. To turn back to find it was equally as uncertain, so we determined to go forward. The plain grew very sandy, and the sun, without one cloud to veil its brightness, darted its torrid rays upon us with mighty power. Each hour of that long day was an anxious year, and greater pains than we took at every little green spot and hollow to find water by digging deep into the soil could not be taken by any one searching for a morsel upon which hung the last hope of mortal life. Ourhorses, too, by their tardy gait, showed their great weariness; and the whole was truly a thirstyoutfit. Night came and no water. That night there was not one cloud in the sky; but the moon did not seem bright to our eyes, and the stars did not seem to twinkle. We were alone in the desert, deserted by all animation, and without one single thing to whisper to us a word of encouragement. To see those poor perishing horses licking that empty barrel, and then gaze at us with their ears dropped to the side of their heads, as if to say, “We are dying of thirst,” was enough to sadden any human, and to call up before our minds the terrible accounts of which we had read of whole outfits of men, women, and little children, whose bones were found withering upon the burning sands. O God! what must be the agony of a parent whose little infants are fast gathering in their innocent countenances the picture of death, and without one drop of water to give them in their last appeal! Softly the night melted into day, and the morn brought no relief. But without showing one spark of discouragement, we pushed on with parched lips. About noon one of the horses became so weak that he could do his part no longer. We unhitched him and put the other one at the end of the tongue; and while I led thefore horse, John whipped the hind one along, followed by the big blood-hound with his great red tongue lolling from his mouth. I imagine many of the most sorrowful sights are only seen by their unfortunate presenters. We would have given five dollars for a cup of water as freely as we ever gave five cents for a glass of soda. Toward evening John became so weak that he was obliged to ride, and I could see that his heart had sunk far into his bosom. I wore just as brisk an appearance as the circumstances would permit of, and trudged along leading the gray mare and whistling as much comfort to my perishing comrade as could be done with swelled lips. I will never forget that effort! I nevercouldwhistle a single tune in God’s world, and I imagine that tune I got off then was rather killing John than amusing him. Nevertheless, it was my best.
About nine o’clock we made another dry camp. The country had grown rough, showing signs of water; and seeing a cow-track by the bright light of the moon, we were assured that water was near. But we were tired; and the first pangs of thirst having somewhat subsided, we concluded to wait for the morn. That night John did agreat deal ofdreaming, and said so many funny things that I am sure if there had been a shorthand reporter there he could have written aninteresting volume, and might have had love-letters that would have been models for the most affectionate writers. In the morning I arose early and mounted the gray mare that had been so gallant, and then over the hills for water. I followed the cow-track that I had seen in the evening; and the tracks became more and more numerous, until deep paths were seen, winding among the hills. After traveling about four miles from camp I came upon an elevated spot, whence I viewed such beauties that the occasion shall never be forgotten, though time shall find me aged and gray, and my faithful companion far away. There in front of me, and at my feet, lay a most beautiful valley, carpeted with richest green, and tenderly holding upon its bosom little pools of the liquid for which we had so long searched. The little sprouting cotton-wood trees that decked the slopes of that treasured spot seemed to call out to us to come and see the beauties so rarely seen by aught else but the wild herds that trampled beneath their greenfoliage. Without the least ceremony, a gray mare and thirsty rider might have been seen dashing down the hill-side toward the fountain of life. The cattle that were standing in the water lashing the flies, with great astonishment at the sight of their new visitors, readily yielded their rights to us, and in we went.
Oh give me not a golden cup,My parching lips to cool;But, like thewild beast, I will sipThe water from the pool.
Oh give me not a golden cup,My parching lips to cool;But, like thewild beast, I will sipThe water from the pool.
Oh give me not a golden cup,My parching lips to cool;But, like thewild beast, I will sipThe water from the pool.
As soon as we had all we wished we pushed off with all speed for camp. There, among the barren hills, lay the bay horse stretched out upon the sand, and apparently resigned to his fate, while John was sitting under the wagon, viewing the surroundings as though wishing the power to bring water from the barren bluffs. Though I did not bring water from therocks, I brought it in a tin bucket; and it was quite natural that I should imagine myself the Moses of old, watering the perishing in the midst of the desert. After drinking of the water John was greatly refreshed, and there was enough left to take the dimness from the eyes of the perishing horse. We now prepared to move down to the water. It was only with great difficulty that wesucceeded in getting our fainting horse to the valley; and it was an affecting scene when the pool met his eye to see him prick up his ears and stagger into the water. After we were all refreshed, we turned the horses to graze, and set about getting something to eat. We had often been warned of the great peril of traveling over the unmarked prairie without a guide, and had read of many outfits dying of thirst, but this was our first experience. We had come from a land of plenty, and relished the many knickknacks and rarities of a civilized country; but the most pleasant draught we had ever taken in our lives, was that from the beautiful little lake in the green valley of Big Sand Creek. Some may relishliquors, while others will choose milder and more delicate drinks; but when your system is racked with a thirsty fever, and the blood is drying in your veins, then is naught half so delicious as the unadulterated fluid that flows so freely from the fountain of nature. There were many antelopes here; and we camped for several days in this beautiful valley, recruiting our weary team upon the rich pasture, and killing antelopes and drying their meat.
One clear evening, while sitting in our lonely camp watching the sun as it sunk low in the far horison, we saw an object moving in the dim distance. Quickly the glass was sighted and the focus told the person of a man on horseback moving toward us. We were overjoyed at this sight, and were glad to meet one who could tell us where we were and explain the surrounding. We received him most cordially, and after feasting him to the best we had, we all felt refreshed and seated ourselves for a chat. He told us that we were upon the Big Sandy, forty miles above the Arkansas River, into which it flows, and that we would find cow-ranches all the way down. He said he lived at the mouth of the creek, and gave us the history of the country through the many years that he had been breathing pure western air. New-comers on the plains are calledtender feet; and having been called that before, we concluded to take advantage of this occasion and be as big an Indian-killing outfit as any he could tell of, though of course we were strangers in thatpartof the country. After he had narrated some interesting events, we began telling some ofourexperiences, and among other things incidentally mentioned ourcoming across from Wallace. Upon his asking us if we had struck theBarrel Springs, we told him that we had not, and he was very much astonished and wondered how we got across. “Oh,” said John, “it only took a couple of days to come across; and any outfit that could not travel two or three days without food or drink, were what we calledtender feetin our country.” I then took the opportunity to inquire what kind of a place the springs was. He told us that they were at the end of a gravel-ridge, where stood quite a little bush; and at that season of the year you would have to dig about two or three feet into the earth to find water. This was a sufficient description to fully convince us that this was not the place we were looking for; and it was no wonder that we had passed them in looking for a stream of water springing from the ground with a flow of a hundred gallons per minute. We made no reply, but looked at each other as much as to say, “Springs in this country are not such as we areused to.” Twilight was gathering, and after telling us the old battle-ground where General Chivington and his followers massacred five hundred Indians one morning before breakfast, several years ago, wasbut a few miles above us, he said that he would go, as he wanted to stop at a ranch two miles below for the night. Bidding us good-night, and asking us to call upon him as we passed, we parted.
We could not rest until we went to see this spot so well known to every person throughout that whole country, and survey the ground where so many eyes were closed in death in one short hour. We found the spot marked by many old pieces of camp-equipments, bows, and saddles, etc., all pierced with bullets, while the many skeletons that lay bleaching in the sun told the number of ponies that fell in that great struggle. The same barren hills that re-echoed the screams of the squaws and papooses, and the whoop of the warriors, are still overlooking the spot; the same little trees that spread their tender branches over a slumbering nation upon that last night, though all filled with lead, were still waving in the breeze. But where, oh, where is thewarrior and his family! They are sleeping in the little green mounds beneath the same trees under which they fell, and theirwar-criesare no more to be heard. The war-dance is over and the gory hatchet lies rusting in theearth. The wild herds are unconsciously cropping the rich grass from the graves, and in a few years the fate and memory of a whole nation will be buried in the solitude of Sand Creek Valley. The scene made an impression upon my mind that time can not obliterate, and in silence we turned away.
We had now spent several days in this beautiful valley; and our team with ourselves having become thoroughly recruited, we again broke camp and wound slowly down the creek toward the river. Cattle became very numerous as we advanced, and we had many a good chat with the cow-boys who stayed in the little pole-cabins to watch over the cattle.
In a few days we were in sight of the Arkansas Valley, and heard the roar of the great stream. The river rolls through a most lovely valley about two miles wide; and thousands of cattle are pasturing upon the rich grass. Thick groves ofcotton-woodskirted the banks, and a merrier party than we while reclining in the green shade of the little trees never pegged a tent to the soil.
It was now the latter part ofAugust; and the weather being very warm, we concluded to wander up and down the river, fishing and huntingto pass away the time untilOctober, when we intended to go south for a winter’s hunt. There is much of this valley homesteaded and pre-empted, and many little pole and adobe-shanties deck this pretty level bank. Here we could hear the voice of the merry housewife, and the din of the playing children was borne to our ears upon the evening breeze. It had been some time,—aside from Wallace,—since we had seen settlements of this kind; and cultivating their acquaintances, we found them quite hospitable, and spent many a happy evening in their modest little homes.
It was here for the first time that we saw farming done byirrigation—this being the only way anything whatever can be raised in these parts where there is not a sprinkle for sometimes nine months at a period. Upon the principle of a mill-race, they go away up the river, and at some good place lead the water from the stream into a ditch which winds along the edge of the plain, according to the fall, until it is higher than the valley, which is usually very level, as though designed by the great Creator to be thus used. This ditch is sometimes owned by thelandowners, and sometimes by companies, who charge the settlers so much per annum for the water to irrigate. The channel ofttimes is very long, and itthere are many farmers along its borders, stock in this is well invested. When the water is at hand, the land is plowed and the seed is sown or planted in the loose, sandy soil. The gates at the ditch are then lifted, and with hoe and shovel they watch and see that the surface is all covered with water. If corn or potatoes are planted, a furrow is drawn along each side of the row, and the water is let to course through these until the soil is thoroughly saturated. This irrigation must be done usually once or twice a week, depending somewhat upon the temperature of the atmosphere and the nature and condition of the soil. We have seen some good crops thus raised; and strange to say, some persons who have lived here for several years say they would farm in no other country; “for,” they say, “we do our own raining, and never have droughts or floods.” Of course we were very glad to see them so well satisfied with their fortunes; but as for us, we preferred living inGod’s country, where the water falls from theclouds.
Following the river east, claims became more and more numerous until we arrived at Wichita, when we found the whole valley settled up, and were surprised to see the great buffalo-range of so few years ago bearing upon its bosom greatfields of rich, golden grain. Going west toward the mountains, the farmers became fewer and fewer, and the valley and plain are left to the stock-men. About sunset thousands of cattle may be seen coming in to water from all directions, until the whole valley is a moving mass. The plain is high and dry, covered with a thick growth of buffalo-grass, and perfectly destitute of all else. Not even abushcan be seen except along the streams or little lakes, which are often forty and fifty miles apart. The cattle and all wild animals range along the water, feeding five and six miles out upon the plain. The waters on the plains stand in pools, in long, deep arrowas; and in the spring, when the snow melts in the mountains, the water courses its way through these gulches toward the rivers. Therestof the year they are butpools; and these seldom dry up. Crossing over the dry plain from one water to another, a journey of often a couple of days, without seeing so much as a wolf to break the monotony, it is needless to say that upon coming into one of the valleys it appears like entering a paradise. Having spent several weeks hunting over these parts, it was now the latter part of September, and we prepared to start south for a buffalo hunt.
Arrival of Lesher and Wonderly—Our Start South—First Buffalo Herd—Cimaron River—Strayed Team—Old Hunters—How to Hunt Buffaloes—Wolf Hunt—Prairie Fire—Herd at Ten-Mile Creek—Blizzard—Find a Frozen Man—Hide Season Ends.
Arrival of Lesher and Wonderly—Our Start South—First Buffalo Herd—Cimaron River—Strayed Team—Old Hunters—How to Hunt Buffaloes—Wolf Hunt—Prairie Fire—Herd at Ten-Mile Creek—Blizzard—Find a Frozen Man—Hide Season Ends.
When the October sun was creeping from the horizon and the melancholy winds were roaring over the dry, brown prairie, two young men of Montgomery County, Ohio,—Charles Wonderly and David Lesher,—came out on the train and met us at Granada. Being now a party of four, we were well prepared, and went to Las Animas to lay in supplies for a buffalo campaign. We bought flour, meal, salt, pepper, tobacco, etc., and a few sacks ofcornto feed our horses when the winter’s snow had come. We also took a keg of brandy, forsnake-bites, and enough ammunition to kill everything in Texas. We then came east, into the Arkansas Valley, intending to strike south from Granada.
When we got within fifteen miles of Granada some cow-boys came riding up the valley, spurring their ponies to their utmost, and warning settlers that a band ofCheyenneshad been seen down the river. Great excitement prevailed for the safety of the wives and children, who—there being but a few families—were hurried to the ranche of Captain Irwin. We brought our ponies under the cover of our guns, and took quarters in the sameadobehut.
John and myself had seen a little skirmishing before, and by this time were pretty well acclimated; but Dave and Charles!—boys just from protected homes and the quietude of civilization,—imagine their feelings after reading of the bloody deeds of the red-man, and now that their yells were in their very ears.
The windows and port-holes were thrown open, and with Sharpe’s rifles in our hands we keenly watched for a red devil upon whom to try our skill.
There was aschool-marmstaying there, to teach the children of Mr. Irwin, and with her I had previously become acquainted. After waiting for some time forIndians, I concluded to take advantage of the occasion, and to beat my sword into a pruning-hook and try to hook a littleloveout of theschool-marm. She was latefrom the East, and, it is needless to say, was much excited. This made her quite gentle; and by assuming a brave appearance, with my big gun in hand and telling her there was no danger, I gained her confidence, and she hung to my arm like a squirrel to a hickory sapling when hunters are thick. You may all talk about Indians being good marksmen, but I will venture to say that there is not an Indian in the whole Cheyenne nation that could shoot me nearer the heart than did that school-marm in the littleadoberanche.
Hours flew by like leaves before the wind, and at length a man came riding up and stated that he was the person who gave the alarm. He was a tender-foot cow-boy. He stated that one of their boys had started upon his pony to cross the plain to another range about twenty miles distant; that just as he was going over the raise he saw four or five Indians on horseback cut him off from camp and chase him out of sight, quirting their ponies to their utmost speed. He had also heard a shot fired, and which he supposed had told his death. We questioned him very closely, and told him how he might have been deceived; but he was very positive, and said hewould swear to his statement. At this, four of us, well mounted and with each a brace of six-shooters and a Sharpe’s rifle, started out to trace up our friend. We went to the raise where he said he had seen them pass over, and by a careful examination could discover but one horse-track in the sand, and this showed that the horse had been running. After scouring the country for several miles and seeing but the single track, all began to theorize how he might have been deceived; and although he expressed himself very positive, we concluded to go back and wait until morning, when the young man was to come back.
It was an anxious night for the settlers, who expected a general slaughter in the valley; and the bloody outrages committed in the neighboring ranges, of which reports had been coming in daily from all directions, lent terror to those who had infants to protect. As for me, Indians or no Indians, what cared I so the school-marm came off safely!
At last the darkness began to give way to the light of the morn; and about nine o’clock, through a field-glass, from a house-top, an objectwas sighted in the distance. Nearer and nearer and plainer and plainer it became, until we were all satisfied that the lost was found and the dead had come to life. He was much surprised at the excitement his little chase had caused. He said that just as he was going over the raise he chased four great sand-hill cranes, and shot at them over the hill. The scene was now explained and the mystery solved. These cranes are large, and in flying along close to the ground our friend had imagined the long, slender wings whipping the air, to be Indian arms whipping their ponies; and knowing them to be in the country still colored the imagination. The young man was much mortified at his deception; and they all laughed at him so much that he peered toward the hills as though wishing the Indians would come and ally with him to kill the whole valley. This little incident taught us to always be on our guard and to never run until we saw the elephant.
The school-marm thanked me for my kindness, and gave me an affectionate good-by; and as we pulled out she looked after us, and Dave and Charles drew long breaths, as though envying me my affectionate relations with the Birdie of the prairie.
Leaving the valley and going south, we came upon a broad, level plain, where the horizon looked like a great wagon-wheel and we could see many miles in all directions. The first water wasPlum Creek, in nine miles. This is a dry gulch running through the prairie, with pools every mile or two. In very dry summers they become dry. The next water was Butte Creek, in six miles; and here we camped for the night. This is like Plum Creek, only the gulch is very deep and the country is extremely rough upon either side. The valley is full of cotton-wood trees and brier-bushes; and the hungry wolves howled loudly behind every hill. Dave and Charles had heardtoo muchabout wolves to rest easily where they were so numerous; and the roar of their rifles and six-shooters made the night a lively one. In the morning several big grays lay dead in the valley as the result of the late lead-storm. I told them that they would have to be saving with the ammunition; but they said ammunition would be of no use when they were devoured by wolves, and we would have been eaten up alive that very night had they not fought so hard; “for,” said they, “as we sat by the fire their eyes glittered among thehills like stars in the heavens, and every now and then a big fellow would howl out at our very sides, as much as to say, ‘I got him.’”
We took an early start, and traveled over the dry country until the sun was hiding himself in the west, when, having traveled full thirty miles, we again came among the hills and caught sight of the tops of some little trees that grew in a deep gulch, and we knew we were now near water.
We had advanced but a short distance after sighting the trees when we also saw some dark objects just beyond. “Buffaloes!” was the first flash through our minds; and our field-glass told us that we were right. Buffaloes were what we were hunting; and, mounting my pony, with my big Sharpe in hand, I was soon wending my way down the deep, dry gulch until I was just opposite the herd; and, tying the pony to a cotton-wood, I crawled up to survey. There were thirty-eight in the herd, and they were leisurely feeding up a green ravine that lay parallel with Bear Creek and led into it some distance below. They were several hundred yards south of me, but by crawling cautiously along I succeeded in getting into the ravine about four hundred yardsabove them without being noticed, and impatiently awaited the oncome. When they got within about three hundred yards of me some of the old bulls appeared to see me, and, with heads erect, on they came, stopping at intervals to paw the earth and ring my ears with their bellowing. The whole herd at length saw me, and curiously started to inspect the dark object stretched out upon the plain before them. I thought aboutshootinguntil they were within two hundred yards of me, when my giant strength failed me and I lay like the slain Goliath, helplessly stretched upon the earth. I had often heard ofbuck-ague, but if that wasmyattack I am sure its effects were never fully described; for I felt as though a bucketful of blood jumped through my heart at a time, and every time my pulse beat I believe I jumped four inches from the sod. This was the first wild herd I had ever seen; and having my first experience upon the open plain all by myself, without a tree to climb or a stump to hide behind in case of immersion, I must say somewhatterrifiedme; and while thinking of all the danger Imightbe in, they suddenly started off in a lope, as though scenting me, and certainly to my verygreat relief. This was now my opportunity to try my hand; and, running to the top of a little knoll, I took aim from my knee at an old bull that had stopped to look back, and pulled. I did notconsiderthat I was firing aone-hundred-grain gun, and having my nose entirely too close it was some time before I was conscious of what had taken place. When the blood had stopped running and the smoke had cleared away, and I found that I had not shot myself, I looked up to see the last buffalo disappear behind the raise. Sheepishly I retired, amid the shouts from the boys; and though we had no successthis timewe knew that we were now in the buffalo region at last, and supposed ourselves moreableto tackle the next gang, be it great or small.
The water of which we just spoke we learned to be Bear Creek; and a pretty ravine it was, too. The water stood in little pools likeButte Creek, and these were fed by springs. There were a great many cattle and rich pasture there, and old cow-camps were to be seen all up and down the creek. Stopping here for several days, we enjoyed ourselves very much in the thick shade of the little trees through the heat of the day; and though we saw no morebuffalo, antelopes were numerous, and we had much sport shooting these shy creatures as they came down unconsciously from the plain to quench their thirst from the pools among the mighty Bear Creek bluffs. Charles had never shot an antelope; and to describe the maneuvering of his first experience would fill a volume. One morning he came running into camp and said that a flock of antelopes were coming in to water just below, and grabbing a rifle he dashed away. I followed him closely, and when he crawled up behind a rock to shoot I was near him behind another and could see it all. Down came a big buck to the pool, and after looking slyly around began to drink. This was Charley’s opportunity; and after going through all the motions of a monkey in a show-pen, whang went the rifle, and down came the buck. “Right through the heart, by thunder!” said he, and throwing down his rifle he dashed upon his prey. He had caught him through the loins; and though the buck struggled hard, Charley hung to him like a Dutch butcher, and at last cut off his wind. I made off for camp, and Charley never knew that I was near. Soon he came in whistling, with the buck across his back; and thoughit weighed at least one hundred and twenty-five pounds, he stood in camp full five minutes with the buck upon his back, explaining how he did it. We all laughed a great deal at Charley’s shooting antelope through the heart, and he often asked us how the devil we knew where he aimed.
We at length grew eager for another trial at the kings of the prairie, and pulled out for the Cimaron River, where we expected to make a head-quarter camp and put in the winter hunting over the South. We reached the river after a march of about thirty miles, and were now about seventy-five miles south of the A., T., & S. F. R. R., and all civilization. Skirting the banks of every water we had yet passed were little trees; but here there was not even a twig the size of a finger.
We had learned before to burnbuffalo-chips, and as far asfuelwas concerned we were all right; but the next question, and the mostperplexing, was how to make a house in which to store our supplies, and for our protection in winter, as well as a retreat from danger. Here lay the spade and there stuck the pick, but the only material we could see for ahousewas the dryearth. Dave was a carpenter, and we told him he should begin the frame. But he said he was not used to working in that kind of timber. We found a deep dry gulch leading to the river, and going to work we soon had a chamber dug in the bank, eighteen feet long and twelve feet wide, four feet deep on the lower side, and seven feet deep on the high side, with a narrow pass-way into the gulch. We then dug a fireplace in the high side, and worked from top and bottom until we finished the flue. All was then completed but the roof; and using our tent-poles for supporters, we stretched a couple of wagon-sheets from the high to the low side, and pegged them to the ground at each end. We had thus a tolerably safe retreat from the wind and sun; and moving all our things in there, we concluded to wait for a few days and then go to Bear Creek for poles to put on agood roof. The weather being very fine, and not having seen a sprinkle for many days, we put the work off from time to time; and one evening of the first week in our new abode, when least expecting it, we were much surprised to see the sky suddenly veil itself with dark clouds, and empty its flood upon us. I had read about thewindows ofheavenbeing opened, but, my God! I thought the whole side of the house had fallen out upon this occasion. The floor of our house was sticky clay, and not having seen a sprinkle for so long, while our muslin roof carried off the dampness, we enjoyed the occasion very much. Soon, however, the ground began to soften, the pins to pull out, and the fun was then at an end. The water falling upon the loose canvas, it bagged down, and directly out came a peg, and splash came two or three buckets of water into our new house. Seeing that we might as well have no cover at all, we piled our things upon boxes and covered them with oilcloth, and took it as it came. Ourtentwas ripped to pieces, and this was our only scheme. Soon the mud was ankle-deep all over our new floor, and the last smoke slowly curled from the few damp buffalo-chips that lay frying upon the hearth. Our condition about that time was not at allenviable; and we looked in every direction and contemplated every scheme. But we at last concluded that foxes havedry holes, and the birds of the air havesheltered nests; but greenhornbuffalo-huntersmust stand in mud up to their knees and be baptized in a way that Godknows is not agreeable to anybody’s belief. Charles and myself figured on the wagon, and throwing a lot of wolf-hides and our harness upon the ground, we crawled under the wagon upon them; and wrapping ourselves in our wet blankets, we took the collars for pillows and tried to think ourselves comfortable. But the wind was blowing fiercely and the rain falling at an incredible rate. We were soon completely drenched; and the water gurgled good, good, good, down through the horse-collars. The water was rushing in torrents down the hill-sides, and stood in sheets upon the level. We saw clearly that it wasimmersionor get out of there, and we chose thelatter. Our wits were then at an end, and we concluded that if we ownedhellandthat country, we would rent out thelatterand live in theformer. A chicken sitting out upon the naked limb of an apple-tree in a coldwinter’s stormis not to be compared to a boy standing in mud knee-deep, with water dashing about his ears like a water-wheel, and pouring from his nose like a house-spout, and not even a pin to hang himself up on. Dave was all the while silent, and seated upon a box in the dug-out, wrapped in a blanket, and looking into thefireplace as though comparing the place withhell, andrebel prisons, and all other noted places in his dreams. John had learned some of the western dialect, and was seated upon the wagon, with a blanket over him, rehearsing what he had learned; and I thought from what little I knew of it he succeeded very well, and learned fast, and remembered first-rate.
We, however, were living, though not in the best of humor, when about three o’clock in the morning it suddenly turned cold and began to sleet. Now if anypaintercan picture the scene of that camp, or any writer describe the condition and feeling of that party who groped in the darkness of that cave on the banks of the Cimaron on that cold, dreary morn, he must have been there himself. Every blanket that we had, and every thread of clothing that wrapped our forms was wet and dripping. There was not a dry piece of fur; and we raced over the prairie and rubbed ourselves to keep the blood in circulation. I tell you the sharp wind that whistled by and roared among the hills soon aroused Dave from his slumbers, and he was the most frantic racer I ever saw. He could run over a jack-rabbit in one hundred yards. Whenwe were tired of running, with pick and spade we set to work digging in the earth at the mouth of the dug-out to keep warm and to lower it so as to drain out the water and mud. Morning came and we were still alive, but redder noses than ours never roamed a Colorado dram-shop. Our horses, too, were covered with ice, and must have felt pretty uncomfortable. At length the sun slowly rolled from the horizon and sent his sparkling beams upon the dismal plain, and drew all animation to the eastern slopes. By great exercise we managed to dry our clothes upon us, and felt pretty comfortable again.
We had now escaped thecold, but thehunger partwas yet to come.Johnandmyselfhad had an experience of fourteen days uponflap-jacks, and two days and a half withouteating or drinking, and of coursewedid not figure quite as closely asDaveandCharles, who had been but a few weeks from the land of plenty and comfort. Nevertheless, we had to fast that day until toward evening, when we found some small rushes upon the banks of the river, which were dried in the sun. Placing some bones together, we built a fire upon them with the rushes and kept it upuntil the bones were heated. Then slicing some meat real fine, we put it in a thin sheet-iron skillet, and placing it upon the heated bones, and continually applying rushes, we were enabled to fry ourselves a little repast. This was a new scheme, and while delighted with our ingenuity weforgotthat we had nothing butmeat, and thought it the best meat we had eaten for many days. We were very glad to see the face of the plain once more dry, and determined to prepare for the next immersion.
The next day Charles and myself started for Bear Creek for poles, and John and Dave stayed with the camp. We got to Bear Creek that day and cut the poles in the evening, and the next morning started back. About sunset we were at home; and the next day we placed the poles over the hole or cave, and after covering them with rushes, applied a coat of dirt. Our house was then completed, and we were prepared for future contingencies.
Here was the tender-foot outfit, our home a dark cave in the bluff of the Cimaron, seventy-five miles from the smallest settlement, and our only neighbors the wild animals of the plain. Our long-hunted range was at last reached, andthe buffalo could be seen upon the distant hill-sides, and their lowing could be distinctly heard. The gray wolf, of which we had heard so much, was here too in such numbers as to be very bold; and their piercing howls, which would make the boldest inexperienced man shudder, could be heard at night at our very door.
Being now in thehappy hunting-ground, we prepared for a big hunt. We had the Sharpe rifle,—forty-five caliber, one hundred grains,—and forty-five caliberColt, andSmith & Wessonsix-shooters. Having the best of fire-arms, and loads of ammunition, we felt ourselves a match for anything that chose a daylight battle; and now for the hunt.
By having our camp so well concealed, the game at first came close around the dug-out, entirely unconscious of an enemy; but from the daily explosions in that ravine they soon learned to be shy, and appeared to regard the little hole in the ground as a dangerous place.
We saw our first antelope in western Nebraska, where they were so wild that the most experienced hunter could scarcely ever succeed in killing one. They had become more and more numerous, however, until we were now in theirvery homes, and little bands could be seen upon every hill. This animal is some larger than a sheep, and is white-and-brown spotted. The bucks are the larger, and have horns about eight inches long. They are the most vigilant animal of the prairie; and in their most quiet state usually take one bite and two looks, and upon the least alarm start off at such speed as to almost baffle the eye. We had exhausted our ingenuity and had many days’ experience before we could successfully make our bullets tell in the vigilant herds. The following are some of the successful schemes: In cold, stormy weather they take shelter in the ravines and behind the bluffs, and of course can then be readily shot, in a rough country; but in ordinary weather they usually keep uponhigh places, so that you can scarcely ever get near enough to shoot them without being detected. In this case, take a horse and start off obliquely toward them; be upon the leeward side, and never look directly at them. Keep sidling toward the flock, and going round, but becautiousthat you never go directly toward them. In this way one can often get within shooting distance, which is fairat four hundred yards. If you have nohorse, go as closely as you can without being detected, and then crawl,—always keeping the wind of them, as they will scare quicker at scent than at sight. When they look toward you, do not move a finger, and look down; but when they are not looking, crawl quickly. They usually become very curious, and come toward you, snuffing the air and stamping their feet. Then watch your chance; for when they are once satisfied that you are an enemy, and start to run, you might as well try to shoot the lightning’s glare. Ared flagis a very good thing to tie on yourhat, and then get in some conspicuous place and lie still. It will not be long before they will come to see you. They are very sharp, and use great cunning in investigating the dangers that lurk in their vicinity. They can often be deceived by getting some one to drive a wagon obliquely toward them, and at some place near, where there is a little raise or bunch of weeds or grass, jump off while the wagon is moving. Be careful that you are not detected. They will watch the team very closely, and as the wagon circles to the other side of them and their backs are turned to you, you can often crawl upon them without being discovered. If they startto run, just throw a ball in the sand ahead of them. Several balls will often so excite them that they are as apt to run toward you as any other way. Always shoot behind the shoulder, if possible; for they are animals of such great spirit that anything but a mortal shot does not appear to disable them; and I have heard of an antelope with three legs broken and both eyes shot out, outrunning a horse in a fair race. I shall not vouch for the truth of this, but there ismoretruth about it than any person who has never seen an antelope would be willing to believe. Any person who can hunt this animal with success is truly an ingenious sportsman.
We took advantage of the buffaloes that came among the river-hills near our camp, and in a couple of days we had a load of meat, consisting of shoulder-clods, saddles, humps, and tongues; and Dave and myself started north to the Arkansas Valley to sell out, while John and Charles stayed in camp. We made it toBear Creekin one day, Butte Creek thenext, and the third day about noon we came to the railroad. There were many emigrants going up the valley to the mountains, and to these and the settlers we had no trouble in disposing of our load atfive cents per pound. The load brought us just fifty dollars.
We found it a little unhandy to have our grub and cooking outfit scattered promiscuously through the wagon, and I thought it would be nice and convenient to have a mess-box. So, the morning that we started back for camp we passed by a neat littleadobehouse, and we stopped to ask the man for his doors, to make a mess-box. There was no one about, so we took off the only two doors and drove on. Dave, with all his Methodist Episcopal modesty,—which he had forgotten to leave at home,—said it was notrightto take the doors; but I told him that I was a member of the Colorado State Board of Equalization; and a house without doors was still better than doors without a house. This was downright hunter’s logic.
We camped at Butte Creek for the night, and in the evening we worked up the doors. We made a cupboard three feet high, aswideas the wagon-bed, and fourteen inches deep; and then boxed and shelved it to suit our needs, leaving a space to the right large enough for a fifty-pound sack of flour, and in the bottom of the cupboard a space for the bread-pan, oven, frying-pan, etc.The rest was partitioned off in smaller spaces for pepper, salt, baking-powder, etc. Then, taking out the end-gate, we set the cupboard in the back part of the wagon and passed the bed-rods through it, and it was fastened. We then made a door large enough to cover the face of the cupboard, and with the hinges that we had saved from the doors hinged it to the bottom of the wagon-bed; and making a latch to the top of the cupboard, with a piece of calf-hide and a pin, the box was neatly finished. I then cut off a stick the height of the bottom of the wagon-bed, and wiring it to the door where it was latched, the thing was completed. The lid could be unlatched, and, coming down, it would rest upon the stake, and there was a table, and everything in the mess-chest was clean and handy. This arrangement was so splendid that a broad grin came over Dave’s face inspiteof hisconscience.
The next morning we arose and started for Bear Creek, reaching it just at sunset. Wishing to give our team as much range as possible without leaving them entirely free (and having no hobbles), we took a picket-rope about thirty feet long and tied one end around each horse’s neck. We thought they would hardly stray far from camp; and after watching them for a while, and discovering that they never both took a notion to go the same way, we felt that they were secure, and after supper lay down for the night. The weather was warm, the evening was beautiful, and our sleep was sweet. At daylight I arose to look for the horses. I went among the hills and upon the highest bluffs, and peered in every direction; but there was not a horse in sight. We tried to track them, but they had noshoeson, and their tracks could not be distinguished from those of the wild herds. After hunting among the hills and down the ravines until noon, we concluded that they must have gone back to the railroad to tell the fellow who took his doors. We had left the riding ponies at the camp upon the Cimaron, and we were now left afoot. We had turned them upon the north side of the creek, and not being able to find where they had crossed over to the south, our suspicion was strengthened; and taking a few biscuits in our pockets, with compass in hand, we struck northward across the thirty-mile stretch of dry plains for Butte Creek. We had nothing to carry water in, and a pint of brandy was all we took to drink.
The afternoon was very warm, and the sand was burning hot. The brandy tasted likesugar-water, and was gone before we had traveled five miles. We became very dry when we were about midway; but the dwellings and shade trees were very scarce in that country, and we were compelled to stand it. One of my boots rubbed a great blister upon my heel, and I pulled the boot off and went barefooted. The foot soon became sore upon the scorching sand, and tearing a sleeve from my hunting-coat I tied it around my foot for a moccasin. All animals range along thewater, feeding out from five to eight miles; and there were several miles of our journey upon which there was not an animal or insect, and the country was level as a floor. We sat down now and then to rest; but it was a ratheruncomfortablerest. We were compelled to walk veryrapidlyto reach water that night; and as we rushed along, the bright sun and the heat that curled from the hot sand almost blinded us.
Once, while we were sitting down, we saw something that looked like horses far to the north, and taking our glass we fully convinced ourselves that we were right; for we couldplainly see them walking along tied together. We kept our eyes upon them, and in two hundred yards we came upon two oldbuffalo bones, which themiragehad loomed up into large objects. We then saw how mirage could deceive, especially when aided by imagination.
Thewalkwould have been nothing if we could have hadwater;but I tell you we were pretty well dried out when a little aftersunsetwe came among the Bear Creek hills. A little stream came crystalling down from a spring away up in the bluff; and after drinking of its beautiful waters and taking a good wash, we looked around for the horses, knowing that if they had struck the creek they would not leave the water forseveral hoursat least. Anxious to intercept their further travel to the north, we went up and down the creek by the moonlight for several miles; but no horses.
We came upon an old picketcow-ranchamong the hills, and concluded to stop there until morning. We were met at the door by three or four skunks, which in spite cf our friendly salute opened a double-barrel fire upon us with their heads the other way. They were very obstinate, and we were compelled to kill them. We thenhad control of the shanty, which smelled like a reservoir of cologne for the rest of the night. There was a little stone fireplace in one end of the house, and we built a fire to keep away the wolves and skunks. We had noblankets, but were doing very well, when about eleven o’clock the wind arose and it turned cold. We then needed a fire; but the little trees were mostlygreen, and there was noloose wood, and we had noax. There were two holes for windows and a big place for a door, and these being open the cold wind went howling through our house like a breeze from the north pole. The house was made with poles put in the ground close together, and we began at the door to tear out the posts for fuel. The wind blew colder and colder, and toward morning a light snow fell. There was very little of thehouse leftwhen the morning dawned, and we could not help thinking of the man along the Arkansas who was living in the house that belonged to our doors. We had not seen anygame, so a biscuit was our breakfast. We feltfirst-rate, but one of my feet being one blister from heel to toe, and the other terriblyrubbed, a long walk was to me a little disagreeable; and I determined to patronize the first shoe-maker I crossed.
The morning was very cool, and we thought it best for Dave to return to the wagon at Bear Creek, and I would go to theriver; and if our team had not come up there I was to buy another and return. I had torn the sleeves from my coat, and Dave had given me a large handkerchief. With these I wrapped my feet; but they were so terribly sore and swelled that I could scarcely stand. Dave dashed to the south with his compass in one hand and his rifle in the other, and I hobbled to the north. I broke myself twocanes; and after I got warmed up I flew rapidly along, and came into Granada at nine o’clock. I found out thatdaythat our horses had notbeen seen; so in the evening I bought two good ponies, and in the morning started for Bear Creek. A little before sunset I came among the hills, and struck the creek a mile below the wagon. On my way up I came upon Dave in a deep ravine, roasting a piece of a deer he had killed. I brought a quart ofpepper-saucealong down from Granada, and this, with a good square mess of roast venison, made us feel first-rate. We sat around the fire talking and chatting and broiling venison most of the night; and there was not much of the deer-saddle left in the morning. We then hooked up our ponies; and though they were a littlewild, we went prancing along for the Cimaron. We came into camp at sunset and found the boys well, but veryuneasylest we had lost our compass and become bewildered, or had been cut off by the Indians. We had exchanged teams, and had a great deal of promiscuous experience since we parted; and this, with the story of the cupboard, furnished enough narrative with which to interest John and Charles the greater part of the night. Charles said it was all right to take thedoorsif there were noready-made cupboardin the house; otherwise, it was a sin (in Colorado). We spread our blankets and lay down late in the night, and slept sweetly. We arose at the dawning of the morn, and after a good mess of buffalo-meat, with nice warm biscuits, we went out in the soft morning air. As we stood upon the hill-side at the river’s edge, the zephyrs fanned us like the breath of heaven; and the sun, as it rolled from the eastern sky, appeared to us more majestic than ever before. Away down the valley we could see the buffaloes feeding upon the rich pasture; and upon the brow of a hill to thesouth were two large wolves, feasting upon an antelope they had just killed. In our native Ohio we had seen the buffalo behind the strong high fence, and the wolf in the iron cage; but here they were with their wild neighbors in the garden of nature, ruminating in the free, open air. The scene wasstriking; and it was allnatural; the hand of man had not figured there; and though far from civilization, we felt happy, and the Cimaron waters appeared to smile upon us as they hurried by.