that were killed, twelve of them were the heads of families, and the
cries of the widows and orphaned children were very distressing for Jim
and me to hear, although we were blameless. The next morning just after
breakfast the committee of five men came to Jim and me and said they
wanted to have a private talk with us.

Jim said, "All right," and we all went outside the corral. When we were
alone by ourselves, one of them said, "I want to have your opinion with
regard to hunting for the bodies of the men who are lost. Do you think
it possible to find their bodies if they were killed?"

Jim said, "No, I do not. In the first place, we do not know where to
look. In the second place, the Indians may have carried them fifty or
seventy-five miles from where they killed them. In the third place, we
do not know where the Indian village is or in what direction to look for
it, and if we should find the Indian camp, they may be so strong that we
would not dare to attack them, so you will see at once how useless it
would be for us to attempt to do anything in regard to finding their
bodies."

One of the committee said, "Well, so you propose to pull out and go on?"

Jim said, "Yes, that is what I propose doing. For the next four hundred
miles we shall be in the worst Indian country in the West, and I want to
get this train through it as quickly as I possibly can."

The man answered, "It seems cruel to do it, but I suppose we must give
orders to get ready to move."

Jim replied, "Yes, we must be moving at once, for I cannot risk the
lives of the living to hunt for those who are dead."

We were on the road in less than an hour, the committee having told the
friends of the lost men what the consequences would be if they resisted
the idea of moving, and also the utter uselessness of trying to find
their friends dead or alive.

When the train was already to move, Jim rode down the whole length of
the wagons and told each man that he wanted every one of them to have
their guns and pistols loaded and ready for immediate action, for, he
told them, "We cannot tell at what minute we may be attacked by the
Indians, and if your guns were not ready for use, you would have a slim
chance of saving your own lives or the lives of those dependent on you."

Everyone seemed to understand the situation better than they ever had
before and promised to do as we had asked them to do. Everything moved
on satisfactory until about two o'clock in the afternoon, when one of
the scouts from the north side reported that a big band of Indians was
coming directly towards us. I spurred my horse to a run, and when we
reached a little ridge about a half a mile from the trail, I could see
them myself, and I could see that they were all warriors, for there
were no squaws or children with them, and I thought they would number a
thousand strong.

I sent my companion back to tell Jim what was in prospect for a
fight, and to be sure and have the Indian scalps hung up in the most
conspicuous places. I watched the Indians until they had got within a
half a mile of the trail, where they all stopped and huddled together
for several minutes. I decided they were planning the attack, for when
they started, they went directly for the train, which fact convinced me
that the Indians had had a scout out as well as I had, and that he had
been a little sharper than I was.

I now signaled for all the scouts to get to the train at once, and the
reader can rest assured that not one of them including myself was long
in getting there.

We found everything in readiness to receive the Indians. We rode inside
the corral of wagons and dismounted. I told my men to follow me. We went
to the head of the train, which was but a short distance. I placed eight
men under two wagons, four to a wagon, and took the other two with me to
the next wagon. I told them to lay flat on the ground, and when I cried
"fire" for each one to shoot and to be sure that he got his Indian.

When the savages got in sight of the wagons, they were probably a
hundred and fifty yards from them, and to my surprise they all stopped.
I had forgotten the scalps that Jim had hung up, but of course the sight
of them hanging on the top of the wagons stopped them, but they did not
stop longer than a few minutes. Then they began circling around the
wagons. I could see that there were two war chiefs with the outfit. I
knew this by their dress, for a war Chief always wears what is called a
bonnet. It is made of feathers taken from the wings and tails of eagles
and reaches from their head almost to their heels.

When they started to circle around the wagons, I said to the boys who
were with me under the wagon, "Now you watch that old red sinner who has
the lead. I am going to shoot at him, but I do not know as I can hit
him, he is so far away, but if I can get him we have won the battle."

They answered, "Fire away, and if you miss we will try our hand at him."

I drew a bead at the top of his head, and when the gun cracked I saw
that I had hit him. One of the boys cried, "You have hit him," and at
that moment he swayed and tumbled from his horse. The report of my gun
seemed to be a signal for the whole train to fire, and for the next
minute the noise of the guns was terrific. While they all did not hit an
Indian, they did fairly well for men in an Indian battle for the first
time. There were forty-two dead Indians left on the ground, and as the
report of the last gun died away, the Indians turned their horses and
fled in the opposite direction, and I ran to the old Chief to get his
scalp.

I had just finished taking his scalp after taking his bonnet off when
Jim Bridger and quite a crowd of the other men came running up to me.
Jim said, "Did you do that, Will?" I answered, "I did," and then one of
the boys who were with me under the wagon said, "Mr. Drannan sure shot
him, for he told us to see him get him, and at the report of his gun,
Mr. big Chief went to the Indians' happy hunting grounds."

Jim slapped me on the back and said, "That is the best shot you ever
made, Will, for that bonnet and that scalp will protect this train from
here to California without another shot being fired." I said, "You can
have this bonnet to use for a scare crow, Jim, but be sure and take good
care of it, for I want to keep it as a memento of this trip."

I then asked Jim if he were going to take the scalps off of the other
dead Indians. He said, "No, we have scalps enough now to protect the
train, and that is all we want. Besides, we haven't time; we must go on
to our camping ground, we have fifty or sixty miles to drive before we
can camp for the night."

As we were pulling out, I said to the scouts, "We are in the Buffalo
country, and there will be no more trouble with the Indians; let us try
to get some fresh meat for supper." I knew that we would camp near a
little stream a few miles from where we had the fight, and also that it
was a great feeding ground for Buffalo at this time of the year. When
we were within a quarter of a mile of the stream, where we were to camp
that night, we saw that the valley was covered with Buffalo. I sent all
but one of the men down a little ravine to the valley. I told them to
dismount and tie their horses just before they got to the valley and to
crawl down and each one get behind a tree at the edge of the valley, and
I and the other men would go around to the head of the valley and scare
the Buffalo, and they would run down to where they were in hiding. I
told the men to be sure and not shoot until the Buffalo started to run,
and then to shoot all they could get with their guns, and when they had
emptied them to use their pistols.

"Let us give the women and children a surprise tonight in giving them
all the fresh Buffalo meat they can eat."

Myself and companion rode around to the head of the valley, and when we
reached the top of the ridge, we looked down and saw hundreds of Buffalo
feeding. We spurred our horses to a run, and in a moment we were in the
midst of them, and it certainly was a grand sight to see that immense
herd on the stampede, as they all rushed down to the outlet where the
boys were waiting for them. In a few moments we heard the report of
guns, and we knew that the other boys, were getting the meat for supper.
I told my comrade to pick out his Buffalo and I would pick mine, and I
said to him, "Now don't shoot until you get near the other boys, and if
you want to kill him quick, shoot him through the kidneys." When I had
reached the mouth of the valley where the Buffalo had crowded together
in one big mass, I chose a two-year-old heifer, rode up to her side
and shot her through her kidneys, and she fell at my horse's feet with
hardly a struggle. I pulled my pistol and shot another one and broke its
neck. My comrade had picked a big cow, and she was the fattest Buffalo
I ever saw killed. The other boys had killed twelve, and we got three,
making fifteen in all, and what was best of all, the Buffalo all
lay near to where Jim had corralled the wagons. As the wagons were
corralled, I went to one of the committee and told him that my scouts
and I had killed fifteen Buffalo and asked him to send some of the
men of the train to help dress them and to divide the meat so all the
emigrants could have some fresh meat for their supper, and in a short
time I saw men and women with their arms full of meat, hurrying to their
camp fires.

Jim and I were sitting on a wagon tongue talking as we usually did every
evening when two little girls came running to us and said their papa
wanted us to come and eat supper with them. We went with the children to
their father's tent, and we found an appetizing meal waiting for us. Jim
and I had not tasted any fresh meat since starting out with this train
of emigrants at Green river. When we sat down, Jim said, "Lady, I am
afraid you will be sorry that you invited Will and me to supper, for you
may not have meat enough to go around. We have not had any fresh meat in
a dog's age, and we are big meat eaters any time." She answered, "Oh,
don't be uneasy. I have two pans full on the fire cooking now. I know
how much it takes to fill up hungry men, and you two are not the only
hungry men around this camp, and you may be sure we appreciate the feast
you planned to surprise us with"; and she turned to me with a smile.
"You see, Mr. Drannan, the boys told me all about your suggesting the
Buffalo hunt."

I answered that the meal she had set before us would pay for more than I
had done. Her husband said, "It has surely been a great benefit to all
the people of the train, for we were all suffering for fresh meat, and
you don't know how much we appreciate your thoughtfulness in providing
it for us."

As I left the tent where I had supper, about a dozen middle-aged ladies
came to me and said, "We would like to see that pretty thing you took
off that Indian."

I did not know what they meant by "A pretty thing" until Jim said, "Why,
Will, they want to see that war bonnet you took with the old chief's
scalp."

I went to our pack and got the bonnet and gave it to them, and for the
next two hours that Indian adornment was the talk of the camp. It was
carried from tent to tent, examined by nearly everyone, old and young,
in the whole emigrant train, and it was a curiosity to any white person,
and still more so to those not used to the Indians' way of adorning
themselves.

Jim explained to the emigrants why this piece of Indian dress in our
possession would be a protection to them in case of an attack on us
by the Indians; he said, "The Indians have no fear of being killed in
battle. Their great dread is of being scalped. They believe that if
their scalps are taken off their heads in this world, they will not be
revived in the next, or what they call the "Happy Hunting grounds of the
Indians," where they will dwell with the great spirit forever, and if
they should see this bonnet which none but a great chief can wear they
will think we must be powerful to have got it and will keep away from
us, fearing they may share the fate themselves."

Jim told the emigrants to be ready for an early start in the morning,
and then we separated for the night, the emigrants going to their tents
and Jim and I to lay our blankets under a tree.

Next morning after we had a hearty breakfast of cornbread and Buffalo
steak, Jim said, "Now, men and women, Will gave you all a treat in
Buffalo meat last night, but if all goes well, and we meet with nothing
to detain us, in one week from tonight I will give you a treat that will
discount his."

An old lady answered, "You must be mistaken, Mr. Bridger, for nothing
could taste better then the chunk of meat I broiled over the fire last
night."

Jim laughed and said, he would own up to the last night's supper being
extra good but asked how she thought Mountain Trout would taste. She
said she did not know, as she had never tasted any; Jim said, "Well,
you will know in a week from tonight, and you will say that my treat is
better than Will's, for Mountain trout is the best fish that ever swam
in the water."

We were on the road soon after sunrise the next morning, and everything
went well for the next three days. The third day's travel brought us
to Humboldt Well. As we were going into camp, I discovered a band of
Indians coming directly for the train. I notified Jim at once, and he
soon had the train corralled, and the chief's bonnet hung high above the
Indian scalps so all the Indians could see it. The savages seemed to
discover the bonnet and the scalps as soon as they saw the train, for
they stopped and came no nearer, and after gazing at the decorations on
the wagons a few moments they wheeled their horses and galloped away in
the same direction they had come, and we saw no more of them. As soon as
the Indians disappeared Jim slapped his hands and said, "Didn't I tell
you the effect that bonnet would have on the Red Skins? And I don't
think we will have to shoot another Indian on this trip, for they will
not get close enough to us for us to get a show to hit them."

The second day from this camp we reached Truckey river, and it happened
to be Saturday, and Jim told the emigrants that this was the place where
he proposed to outdo Will in the way of a treat and told them that
everyone who could catch a grasshopper could have a mess of fish for
supper, as the river was swarming with the speckled beauties, and it
was really amusing to see the old of both sexes as well as the children
running in every direction, catching the little hopping insects.
Everyone seemed to be of one mind, what they were going to have for the
evening meal, for they were all on the margin of the river, and Jim and
I staid with the wagons and watched the crowd which was great amusement
for us, for they were all so excited. But our fun did not last long. In
a few minutes the crowd commenced to come back with their bands full of
fish; one woman passed us with two little girls. She had about a dozen
fish, and the children had their hands full too. She said, "Come, Mr.
Bridger, I want you and Mr. Drannan to eat supper with us tonight, and
after we get through I will tell you which treat is the best, Buffalo or
Mountain Trout."

Jim told her she hadn't got half enough fish for him, not reckoning the
members of her own family. She said, "Don't you be uneasy about not
having enough. My man will come back in a few minutes, and he will have
enough to make out the supper, I reckon."

We went with her to her tent and helped to clean the fish, and it was
not long before the appetizing meal was ready. While Jim and I were
cleaning the fish that the woman and children had caught, the man came
back, and he had fifteen of the handsomest trout I had ever seen on a
string. He greeted us with a laugh and said this was the first stream he
had ever seen where a man could take a long-handled shovel and pitch out
all the fish he had a mind to. "It is wonderful to think of the amount
of fish that has been taken out of that stream, and they would not be
missed if we wanted more."

Jim said, "If you could stay here and fish a week, they would be just
as thick when you got through as they are now, and will be until the
spawning season is over."

That night Jim suggested that we get up a party and go over on Truckee
Meadows and kill some Antelope tomorrow.

I said, "All right, Jim, that is the greatest feeding ground for
Antelope of any I have seen. I will go and speak to my scouts now, and
we may get a party so we can start early in the morning."

I hunted my men up and told them what Jim and I thought of doing, and
they were delighted with the idea. They said that every man in the
outfit that owned a horse and gun would be glad to go with us. I told
them to see everyone that they thought would like to or could go and for
them to meet us at the head of the corral right after breakfast in the
morning.

Next morning Jim and I went to the place agreed upon. We were mounted
and had our guns all ready for business, and in a few minutes there were
forty-three men all mounted and anxious to go with us on the hunt for
Antelope.

Jim told them that the hunting ground was eight or ten miles away from
camp, and he said, "I will guarantee that you will see a thousand
Antelope today. Now we will all travel together until we begin to see
the Antelope."

The place called Truckee Meadows was about twenty miles long and ten
miles wide and very level and covered with the tallest sage brush in all
the country around and with an abundance of fine grass. We crossed the
Truckee river just below where the city of Reno now stands, and then
we struck out south east, Jim and I taking the lead and the others
following us.

When we were about five miles from camp, I discovered a band of
Antelope. They were probably a half a mile from us, and they were
feeding in a northeasterly direction. I called Jim's attention to them
at once. After he got a good look at them, he said, "I will bet my old
hat that there is a thousand Antelope in that band."

We stopped our horses and waited for all the crowd to come up to us, and
Jim pointed to the Antelope, saying, "There is your game. Did you ever
see a prettier sight? Now my friends, I want every one of you to have an
Antelope across your saddle when we go back to camp. It don't make any
difference who kills it so we all have an Antelope."

Jim then turned to me and said, "Will, do you see that open ridge
yonder?" and he pointed to a low ridge about a mile from us right in the
direction towards which the Antelope were feeding. I told him, yes, I
saw it. He then said, "I will take all the men but you and two others,
and I will station them all along on that little ridge at the edge of
sage brush. Now, Will, you pick out your two men and ride clear around
the south end of the band, and when they start to run towards us, crowd
them as hard as you can, but give us time to locate before you start the
band."

My men and I rode probably a mile and a half before we got around the
herd, and it looked to us as if the whole valley was covered with
Antelope. I told the men not to shoot at first, but to give a whoop or
two to get them started and then to crowd them for all they were worth,
and when the Antelope got to the open ridge to shoot.

In a few minutes, after we started the herd of Antelope, we heard the
guns of Jim and his men, and it sounded as if they kept up a continual
fire. When we struck the opening, I told the boys to get all the
Antelope they could, and we had a plenty to choose from, for there were
hundreds in the herd ahead of us. I fired my rifle and knocked one down,
and then I pulled my pistol and got another. Just then I heard someone
shouting at the top of his voice just ahead of me. I looked to see who
it was and saw Jim Bridger, shaking his hat at me. I held up my horse so
I could hear what he said. He cried, "For pity's sake, Will, don't kill
any more Antelope, for we have more now than we can carry to camp."

I called my men to me, and we rode to where Jim and his men were waiting
for us. Jim said, "Will, I have been in the Antelope country twenty
years most of the time, and I never saw so many Antelope together at
one time as I saw here this morning; why, there must be fifty or
seventy-five laying around here at this minute, that we have shot, and
you would not miss them out of the herd."

One of the men said, "It did not need any skill with the rifle, that
hunt, for a blind man could not help hitting one of them, for as far as
I could see, there was a mass of Antelope."

Every man now went to work skinning and getting the meat ready to carry
to camp. My two companions and myself put two Antelopes on each of our
horses and started on ahead of the others, and although it was five
miles and we walked all the way, we got back to camp a few minutes
before they did.

As soon as they saw us, the women came to meet us and wanted to see what
we had on our horses. As I threw one of the Antelopes off the horse, a
middle aged woman said, "Mr. Drannan, can I have a piece of this one?
My little girls have just picked some wild onions, and I can make some
hash, and I want you and Mr. Bridger to come and take dinner with us
today."

I told her to help herself, that I brought the meat to camp for all of
them to eat as far as it would go. Her husband came at that moment with
a knife and skinned a portion of the Antelope and cut out what she
wanted. By this time the other hunters began coming in, and everyone was
getting fresh meat for their dinner, and by the way they acted I thought
they enjoyed the Antelope fully as well as they had the Buffalo.

While we ate dinner, I asked Jim how many Antelope were killed by the
whole party. He answered. "Why, dog gone it, I forgot to count them,
but I know this much. Pretty near all of the men brought two across his
saddle, and I will bet that it was the biggest Antelope hunt that was
ever in this country before. Why, Will, the Antelope came along so thick
at one time that a man could have killed them with rocks."

If the reader will stop to think a moment, I think he will be surprised
at the great change that has taken place in that country in fifty years.
At that time there was not a white family living within two hundred
miles of this place, and if there had been any one brave enough to tell
us that in a few years this would be a settled country, we would have
thought he was insane. And just think, this very spot where the wild
Antelope roamed in countless numbers fifty-five years ago is today
Nevada's most prosperous farming country and is worth from fifty to one
hundred dollars an acre, and the city of Reno, now a flourishing town of
several thousand inhabitants stands on the very spot where we camped and
had the Antelope hunt, and I have been told by reliable people that the
whole country from the city of Reno to Honey Lake is thickly settled,
and that cities and villages and thriving farms now cover the ground
where at the time I am speaking of there was nothing but wild animals,
and what was worse to contend with, wild savages lurking in the thick
sage brush which covered the ground for hundreds of miles, and I am also
told that the whole country around Honey Lake is a thriving farming
country, but at the time I am speaking of, we did not have an idea that
it would ever be settled up with Whites or used for anything but a
feeding ground for wild animals. If we had been told at that time that a
railroad would pass through the place where the city of Reno now stands,
we would have thought the one who told us such a wild, improbable story
to be a fit subject for a straight jacket.

We pulled out of there early Monday morning; we took the trail up Long
Valley towards Honey Lake, which we reached on the evening of the third
day. Nothing occurred to disturb us during this time. As soon as we went
into camp that evening the emigrants got out their fishing tackle and
went to the lake. Some of them caught some fish, but many of them came
back disappointed. None had the luck they'd had at Truckee river. Still,
the most of us had some fish for supper that night.

While we were at supper, Jim told the people that they were through
catching trout, that the next fish we had would be salmon. They said
they had never heard of that kind and asked what it looked like. Jim
told them that the meat of some kinds of salmon was as red as beef,
while another kind was pink, and still another kind was yellow, and
they were considered the finest fish that swim in the water, and he
continued, "I have seen them so thick in the spring in some of the
streams in California that it was difficult to ride my horse through
them without mashing them, and they ran against the horse's legs and
frightened him so that he was as eager to get away from them as they
were of him."

An old man presently asked how large a salmon usually was, to which Jim
answered, "Well, they run in weight from ten to fifty pounds, but I have
seldom seen one as small as ten pounds, and they are very fat when they
are going upstream to spawn, but when they are coming down they are so
poor they can scarcely swim."

We left Honey Lake in the morning, and the third day from there we
struck the Sacramento valley, and we now told the emigrants that they
had no further use for our services, that their road was perfectly safe
from this point to Sacramento city.

Two of the committee came to us and said, "As this is Saturday we will
camp here until Monday, and we want you two men to stay with us, for the
women want to fix up something for you to eat on your way back."

Jim answered that we would stay with them over Sunday and take a rest,
for we had a long and tiresome journey before us, but it must be
understood that we did not want the women to go to cooking for us, for
all we could take with us was a few loaves of bread, enough to last us
a few days. Our meat we could get as we wanted it, which would be our
principal food on the trip, as it always was when we were alone.

Sunday was a very pleasant, restful day to us. All the emigrants seemed
to vie with each other in being social. Among the company was a man and
wife by the name of Dent; these two came to us and said that they were
going to make their home in Sacramento city and were going into business
there, and they wanted us if we ever came there to come to them and
make their home ours as long as we wished to stay, for, said they, "We
appreciate what you have done for us on this journey we have passed
through. Besides the protection you have given us, the Buffalo and
Antelope meat you have shown us how to get and have helped to get has
been worth more money to us than all we have paid you to pilot us to
California.".

We thanked them for their kind offer and good opinion of us but
disclaimed having done anything but our duty by them.

Monday morning Jim and I were about the first to be astir. We caught
our horses and had them saddled by the time breakfast was ready, and we
accepted the first invitation offered us to eat. While we were eating,
our hostess said she had baked two loaves of bread for us to take with
us, and that she had roasted the last piece of Antelope that she had and
wanted us to take that too. We took the food this lady had prepared for
us and went to our horses, but before we reached them we saw the women
coming from every direction with bread and cake. Jim said, "Will, let's
fill this sack with bread and cake if they insist on giving it to us and
then get away as soon as possible."

As Jim made this remark, it was very amusing to see how every woman
tried to get her package in the sack first, but it would not begin to
hold half that was brought. As soon as the sack was full, Jim said, "Now
ladies, we can take no more, so be kind to us in letting us get away."

By the time we had our pack fixed on our pack horses' backs, every man
and woman and all the children were around us to bid us farewell and
good speed on our journey back to Taos, New Mexico.

We had shaken hands with probably a hundred or more when Jim sprang upon
his horse all at once, saying, "Now friends, we will consider we have
all shaken hands," and he took off his hat and, waving it to the
assembled crowd, gathered up his reins and galloped away, and I followed
suit. But as long as we were in hearing distance we could hear, "Good
bye, good bye," floating on the wind. As the sight of the train faded in
the distance, we waved our hats for the last time.

For the next two days everything went smoothly with Jim and me, which
brought us to Honey Lake. The night we reached Honey Lake, we camped in
a little grove of timber near a pearling stream of cool, sparkling water
about a half a mile south of the trail.

We had eaten our supper and were about to spread our blankets and turn
in for the night when we heard a dog bark close to our camp, but it
was too dark to see him. Jim said, "Don't that beat any thing you ever
heard?"

We listened a moment, and then it was a howl, and then in a moment he
barked again. Jim said, "You stay in camp, Will, and I will take my gun
and see what is the matter."

In a moment Jim called, "I see him." I waited about an hour before Jim
came back and was beginning to feel anxious about him. When I heard his
footsteps, he said, "I followed that dog nearly a mile, and then I found
the cause of his howling, and what do you think it was?" I answered,
"Jim, I have no idea," to which he said, "Well, I will tell you. I found
the body of a dead man laying on his blanket just as if he was laying
down to rest. I did not get near the dog until I had discovered the
body, and then he was very friendly with me, and came and whined, and
wagged his tail, as if he knew me. I looked all around, but I could find
nothing but the body laying on the blanket. I could not see that there
had been a fire, and I saw no signs of a horse or anything else, and the
strange part of it is that, although the dog was so friendly with me, I
could not coax him away from the body which I suppose was his master."

I asked Jim what he thought it was best to do. He answered, "What can we
do, Will? We have no tools to dig a grave with, and the body is laying
among the rocks, and I expect that dog will stay beside it and starve to
death."

"Wouldn't it be a good idea to go to the place in the morning and pile
rocks on the body to keep the wolves and other wild animals from
eating it up?" Jim said, "Yes, we will do that, and we will shoot some
jack-rabbits and leave them with the dog, so he can have something to
eat for a few days anyhow."

On the way over to the place where the body lay, we killed three rabbits
and threw them to the dog, and he ate them as if he was nearly starved,
and I have always thought that his master died of starvation, as he had
no gun or pistol with which to kill anything to eat, and Jim thought
that he must have got lost from some emigrant train and wandered around
until he was too weak to go farther and lay down and died with no one
but his faithful dog to watch over him in his last moments.

We covered him up with stones and brush the best we could and left him
and the poor dog together, although we tried every way we could to tempt
the animal away. The faithful dog would not leave his master's body.
After trying persuasion until we saw it was no use, Jim said, "Let's put
a rope around his neck and lead him off." I answered, "No, Jim, if he
will not be coaxed away, it would not be right to force him to leave his
dead master." Jim said, "It seems too bad to leave him to starve, but
you are right, Will," and so we left him, and we never saw him again.

Saddened with the experience of the morning, we mounted our horses and
struck for the trail. We had nothing more to disturb us for the next
three days. About the middle of the afternoon of the third day we were
riding along slowly, talking about where we should camp that night, when
Jim happened to look off to the south, and he saw a band of Indians
about a mile from us, and they were coming directly towards us, but we
could not tell whether they had seen us or not. Jim said, "Let's put
spurs to our horses and see if we can get away from them Red devils
without a fight with them."

We put our horses to a run and had kept them going this gate for five or
six miles when we came to the top of a little ridge, and in looking back
we saw the Indians about a half a mile in the rear and coming as fast as
their horses could carry them.

Jim said, "Will, we are in for it now, and we must find a place where we
can defend ourselves."

At that moment I saw a little bunch of timber a few hundred yards ahead
of us. I pointed to it and said to Jim, "Let's get in there and show
them our war bonnet and scalps, and maybe that will save us from having
a fight with the Red imps."

Jim laughed and said, "Why dog gone it, Will, I forgot all about your
war bonnet. Sure, that will be the very thing to do."

We had reached the timber while we talked. We now dismounted and tied
our horses, and in less time than one could think we had the war bonnet
and scalps dangling from the trees all around our horses. We had
scarcely got ready for them when the Red Skins were in sight. They raced
around us in a circle but did not come in gun shot of us. They went
through this performance a few times and then stopped and took a good
look at our decorations, and then they wheeled their horses and left in
the direction they had come from, and that was the last we saw of that
bunch of Indians.

We waited a few minutes to be sure that all was clear, and then we
mounted again and rode about two miles before we found water so we could
camp for the night. When we were eating our supper that night, Jim said,
"Will, I don't think you realize what a benefit those scalps and that
bonnet is to us; if I were you, I would never part with that bonnet as
long as you are in the Indian country. This being a Ute bonnet, the
Comanches will offer you all kinds of prices for it, but if I were you I
would not sell it at any price."

I answered, "Jim, I am going to keep that bonnet for two reasons. One
is for the protection of my own scalp and the other is to keep in
remembrance my last trip in company with you as a pilot across the
plains to California."

Jim looked at me a moment and then said, "Will, you don't pretend to say
that you will never take any more trips with me."

I answered, "Yes Jim, I mean what I say. This is my last trip as a pilot
for emigrants."

Jim did not answer for a few moments, and then he said, "Who will go
with me next year Willie? I thought the pilot business just suited you."

I answered, "In some respects I do like it, and in others I dislike it
very much. You know yourself how impossible it is to please everybody.
There are so many of the people who come from the east that don't think
there is any more danger of the Indians than there is of the Whites, and
you know Jim that is the class of people who will always get us into
trouble. See what those nineteen smart alecks did for us on this last
trip. Do you think if they had known any thing of Indian trickery they
would have left our protection to go hunting in the very heart of the
Indian country? And if we had not been firm with the rest of those
people the whole outfit would have been scalped and then we would have
had to bear the blame."

Jim answered, "There is more truth than poetry in all you say Will, but
maybe you will change your mind when spring comes."

We had a peaceful night's sleep and pulled out on the road bright and
early the next morning. We left the main trail and took a south east
course and crossed the extreme southern portion, of what is now the
state of Utah. We traveled hundreds of miles in this country without
seeing a human being.

A year ago I passed through this same country in a comfortable seat in
a railroad car, and it would be difficult for me to make the people of
this day understand the feelings that I experienced when in looking from
the car window I saw the changes that fifty-five years have made in what
was a wild, rough wilderness, inhabited by Buffaloes, Antelopes, Coyotes
and savage men.

We kept on through this section of country until we struck the Colorado
river, which we crossed just below the mouth of Green river, and a few
days' travel brought us into the northwest part of what is now New
Mexico.

The country which is now New Mexico was at the time of which I am
writing considered perfectly worthless. It is a rolling, hilly country
with smooth, level valleys between the hills and is proving to be very
fertile and is settling as fast as any part of the west.

There was nothing more to trouble us, and we made good progress on our
journey, and in ten days from the time we left the Colorado river we
reached Taos, New Mexico, which was the end of our journey, and tired
and worn with the long hours in the saddle and the anxiety of mind which
we had experienced in all the long months since we left there in the
spring, we were glad to get there and rest a few days and to feel that
we were free with no responsibility.

[Illustration: The mother bear ran to the dead cub and pawed it with her
foot.]

CHAPTER VII.

We found Uncle Kit and his family all well and glad to see us. It was
late in the afternoon when we got there, and we spent the remainder of
the day and evening in recounting our summer's experience for Uncle
Kit's benefit, who was a very interested listener to all that had
befallen us since we parted from him in the spring.

While we ate supper, Jim told Uncle Kit of the fight with the Indians
in which I killed the old chief and took his scalp and war bonnet, an
account which amused Uncle Kit very much, and later in the evening he
insisted on my undoing my pack and showing the bonnet to him.

After he had examined it, he said, "Will, I always knew that you would
make an Indian fighter since that night when you were not fifteen years
old and showed such bravery in showing me the two scalps of the Indians
you had killed that morning all by yourself. But little did I think that
you would have the honor of killing a Ute Chief and capturing his war
bonnet. There will be many times when that bonnet will be as much
protection to you as a whole regiment of soldiers would be," and turning
to Jim, Carson said, "Bridger, don't you think my Willie must have been
an apt pupil and does me great honor for the instruction I gave him?"

Jim answered, "Yes, Kit, I certainly do, and if you had seen him tested
as I have the past summer, you would not need to ask me that question."

Uncle Kit patted me on the back and told Jim that he did not need to see
his boy's bravery tested, for he always took it for granted that Willie
would stand any test.

The next morning, Uncle Kit and Bridger commenced to lay their plans for
the winter's trapping. I heard Uncle Kit say, "Bridger, we have got
to get down to Bent's Fort right away; here it is in the last days of
September, and you know that when the fall of the year comes, them
trappers are like a fish out of water, and if we don't get to the Fort
soon, Bent and Roubidoux will fit them out and send them out trapping on
their own hooks."

Jim answered, "That is true, Kit, and the quicker we go the better it
will be for us."

On the fifth day after we arrived at Taos from California, we were on
the road to Bent's Fort with twenty-two pack horses besides our saddle
horses. Uncle Kit, my old comrade Jonnie West and a Mexican boy by the
name of Juan accompanied us.

We reached Bent's Fort in safety without having any trouble on the way.
The evening we got to the Fort it seemed to me that there were more
trappers than I had ever seen together at one time before, and they all
huddled around Carson and Bridger. Uncle Kit told them all that he would
talk business with them in the morning. When supper was ready that
evening, Col. Bent invited all of us to take supper with him. We
accepted the invitation, and while we were at the table, a runner came
with a note to Uncle Kit from Capt. McKee, asking Carson to send all the
men he could muster to join him at Rocky Ford to escort a government
train to Santa Fe, New Mexico.

According to the Capt's. note Carson had only twenty-four hours to
gather his men and get to Rocky Ford. When Uncle Kit read the note so
unexpectedly brought him, it seemed to upset and confuse him. He said,
"My God, I can't go," and then he read the note aloud. When he had
finished reading. Col. Bent said, "I will go out and see how many men
will volunteer to go." After Col. Bent left the room, Uncle Kit said to
me, "Willie, will you take charge of the men if Col. Bent can raise a
company? I know you can handle them as well as I could."

I answered, "Yes sir, I will do any thing you think is best."

In a short time Col. Bent came back and said he had found twenty seven
men who were willing to go, and that every man had his own horse and a
gun and a pistol, "but who will take the command of the company? Do you
intend to go yourself Carson?"

Uncle Kit said, "No, I do not, but Willie here," and he touched my
shoulder, "will take my place and do as well as I could."

Col. Bent said, "Well, come with me, Will, and I will introduce you to
your men."

When we went outside, all the twenty-seven men were there waiting for
us. Col. Bent said to them, "Now, gentlemen, I have brought you a leader
in Mr. William Drannan. He will have charge of you until you reach Rocky
Ford."

I then told the men to furnish themselves with four day's ration and
also to take blankets to use at night, and to be ready to take the trail
at sun rise in the morning. They all promised to be ready at the time I
specified, and we separated for the night.

I found Uncle Kit in the dining room writing a letter to Capt. McKee. He
gave the letter to me, saying, "Give this letter to Capt. McKee, and if
you want to go to Santa Fe with him, do so, or if you had rather be with
me, you will find Jim and me on the Cache-La-Poudre; just suit yourself,
Willie, in regard to this matter, and I shall be satisfied."

The next morning we were up and on the road by the time the sun was up.
We rode hard until about eleven o'clock, when we dismounted, staked our
horses out to grass and ate our luncheon. We let our horses feed about
an hour, and then we mounted and were on the road again. A little before
sunset we came in sight of Rocky Ford. As soon as I saw where we were, I
pointed it out to the boys, and said, "There is Rocky Ford, and we are
ahead of time."

We had ridden but a short distance when one of the boys remarked, "We
are not much in the lead, for there comes Capt. McKee's company just
across the river," and as we reached the Ford, Capt. McKee and his men
were crossing. So we both met on time. I had never met Capt. McKee but
knew him from the fact that he was in the lead of his men.

I rode up to him and saluted and asked if this was Capt. McKee. He said
it was. I told my name at the same time I gave him Carson's letter.

He read the letter and then said, "Let us go into camp. My men and
horses are tired, and we will talk business after we have had supper."

We rode perhaps a quarter of a mile from the Ford, where we could get
plenty of sage brush to make fires, dismounted and staked our horses out
to grass, and it was not long until our meal was ready to eat. As soon
as the meal was over, the Captain came to me and inquired if I had ever
been over this country before. I told him I had a number of times. He
said, "I am a stranger in this country; will you please tell me where
the main body of the Comanches are at this time of the year?"

I told him that the main body of the Comanche tribe was at least a
hundred miles down the river.

"They go down there to shoot the Buffalo as they cross the river on
their winter's feeding ground. You will find the Indians very numerous
all through that part of the country. Sometimes there are from two to
three hundred wigwams in one village, and the Indians will stay there
for nearly a month yet before they go farther south."

The Capt. then asked if I was acquainted with any of the Comanche
Chiefs. I told him that I was, and that I had traded with pretty near
all of them.

"The Comanches are all great friends with Kit Carson, and as I have
visited them and traded with them in company with him, they extend their
friendship to me."

The Capt. thought a moment and then said, "I am mighty afraid that we
are going to have trouble with the Comanches from the fact that that
Government train is at least two hundred miles from here, and there are
forty wagons in it, and they have no escort, only their drivers and
herders, and I am weak myself; you see, I have only twenty men with me.
Five days before I received this order, I sent all of my men, except the
twenty with me, to Fort Worth, Texas to protect the settlers in that
country as the Comanches are on the war path there, and the few men we
have with us now will not be as much as a drop in a bucket as far as
protecting the train is concerned if the Comanches attack it."

I answered, "Captain, if we can reach the train before the Indians do, I
believe we can get the train through to Santa Fe without firing a gun."

This seemed to surprise him, for he looked at me as though I was insane
in making such a remark and said, "What do you mean, young man?"

I answered: "Capt. McKee, all the Comanche tribe know me, and they also
know that I have for several years been closely associated with Kit
Carson, and they think that all Kit Carson does or says is right, for
they both love him and fear him, and they have the same feeling for the
boy Carson raised, and furthermore I have in this pack," and I pointed
to my pack which was laying on the ground near me, "more protection, in
my estimation, than a hundred soldiers would be to the train."

He said, "Explain what you mean, for I do not understand."

I then unrolled my pack and, taking out the Indian scalps and the Ute
Chief's war bonnet, I showed them to him and told him how I had used
them to protect an emigrant train when I only had twelve men to help me
that were of any use in a fight with the Indians.

I said, "Now, Captain, you must know that the Indians have no fear of
death, but they do dread to lose their scalps after they are killed, as
they think there will be no chance for a scalpless Indian to enter the
Happy Hunting ground. So if we reach the train before the Indians get
there and fear they will attack it when they do, all we have to do is to
hang these scalps up in a prominent place and put the Chief's war bonnet
high above them all, and there will be no need of a fight or chance for
one, for the Indians will not come near enough to be shot at, for they
will fear that they will share the same fate that befell the Indians
that these scalps belonged to."

Capt. McKee then asked me if I were willing to go on and assist him in
this way until the train reached Santa Fe, and he said, "I am quite sure
your plan in using the scalps and bonnet for protection with the Indians
will prove a success, for I know how superstitious the Indians are about
being scalped, and I am also sure that we have not sufficient men to
save the train from the Indians without some other means is used."

I then asked the Capt. who would pay me and my men for our time if we
went with him. His answer was "The Government pays me and will pay you
and the men with you, and if we have a chance to test your plan and it
proves a success, I will see that you have double pay."

Everything being understood and arranged to the satisfaction of all
hands, we separated and turned in for the night.

Next morning we were all up in good season and got an early start on the
road.

Late that evening just before we went into camp we saw a few Buffalo
feeding near the river. I asked the Capt. where he was going to camp
that night. He pointed to a little ravine about a half a mile from us,
and answered, "We will camp on that ravine." I said, "Take my pack on
your saddle in front of you, and I will kill a calf for supper."

He took my pack, saying, "All right, we surely will enjoy some fresh
meat," and the company moved on, and I struck out to kill the Buffalo. I
rode around the herd so if they became frightened they would run towards
the place where we were to camp. They saw me before I had got in gun
shot of them and started to run directly towards where the Capt. had
gone into camp.

As soon as I saw the direction they were taking, I commenced to shout to
the men at the camp to look out, for the Buffalo were coming, and they
did not get the news any too quick before the Buffalos were there. The
men grabbed their guns and commenced shooting, and that was all that
saved the camp from being overrun with Buffalo. They shot down three
calves and two heifers right in camp.

The boys had the laugh on me for several days. When anything was said
about getting fresh meat, some of them would say, "Will can go and drive
it into camp, and we will shoot it," and the Capt. would laugh and say
he reckoned that was a good way to save me from packing it.

I do not think I ever saw men enjoy a meal more than these did that
night. We had all ridden hard that day and had only a light lunch at
midday, so we were all very hungry and young and hearty and just at the
time of life when food tastes best, and every one of us knew how to
broil Buffalo meat over sage brush fire.

The next morning the Capt. told the men to all cut enough meat from the
Buffalos to last until the next day and to put it in their packs, for,
he said, "We may not meet with as good luck again as we did today, and
if we take the meat with us we will be provided for anyway."

We were on the road early in the morning and traveled without stopping
until noon, and we saw numerous small bands of Buffalo all along the
way. We stopped on the bank of a little pearling stream of cold water,
where there was plenty of grass for the horses, and ate our luncheon and
rested about an hour. We were about ready to continue our journey when I
discovered a small band of Indians coming up the trail.

I sang out to the Capt., "There come some of our neighbors." He looked
at them and said, "Boys, mount your horses and be ready, for we are
going to have fun right here." I said, "Hold on, Capt., and let me see
if I can't settle this thing without a fight." He said, "How will you do
it?" I said, "I believe I know all those Indians, but I will ride down
and meet them and see, and if I am acquainted with them we will have no
trouble with them."

Capt. McKee said, "Won't you be taking a desperate chance, Mr. Drannan,
in going to meet those savages when you are not sure whether you know
them or not?" I said, "I am not afraid to go to meet them, but if
anything is wrong, I will signal to you by raising my hat, and if I do
so you must charge at once, but if I give no signal you may be sure
everything is all right."

I started my horse at full speed down the narrow valley to meet the
approaching Indian band. When I was within a hundred yards of them,
they recognized me, and they all began crying, "Hi-yar-hi-yar," which
translated into English means, "How do-yo-do," and in a few minutes,
they were all swarming around me, each one trying to shake my hand
first. I shook hands with all, and I then asked them where they were
going. The Chief told me that they were going to their village, which
was on the opposite side of the river. We had passed their village a few
hours before, but owing to the timber being so thick we did not notice
it. They wanted to know when I was coming to trade for Buffalo robes
with them. I told them I would come in four months. This seemed to
please them well, and they said they would have a plenty of robes to
trade for knives and rings and beads.

I rode back with my Indian friends to the camp. On the way I told the
chief where I was going, and that the white men he saw in the camp were
my friends and were going with me. Not knowing any of the men in the
camp, the Indians passed on without stopping, as is their custom when
they are not on the war path.

When the last Indian had passed the camp, Capt. McKee ordered the men to
mount, and we continued our journey.

When we were under way the Capt. rode to my side and said, "Mr. Drannan,
will you tell me how it is that you have such a control over those
Indians? Why, I would not have ridden to meet that savage band for
anything that you could have offered me, for I should have considered
doing such a thing equal to committing suicide, and I know I should not
have come out alive."

I said, "Very true, Capt. I don't think you would. But there is this
difference between your going to meet them and my doing so. You are a
stranger to them, and a member of the white race, which they hate. They,
not knowing who you are, are suspicious of your being on their hunting
grounds, but in my case I have known them all for years and have
accompanied them many times to their village. Whom they trust, although
he be a "pale face," they have confidence in, as they have in me. So
they are all my friends, and when I told the Chief that you and all the
company were my friends and were going with me, he or any of his braves
had no wish to trouble you."

Capt. McKee looked at me as if he thought me something hardly human
while I explained why I was not afraid of the Indians who had just
passed, and in a moment after I had ceased speaking he said, "Can you
control all of the Comanche tribe the same as you did the band which has
just passed us?" I answered, "I certainly think I can if I have my way
about it." He answered, "If that is so, the United States Government
will be under great obligation to you." "The obligation is nothing to me
Capt., but if the men will obey my instruction I think I can pilot
the train through to Santa Fe without their having to fire a shot," I
replied. The Capt. said, "I am not acquainted with the wagon master, so
I can not say what he will do, but I will give you my word that my men
will do as you instruct them, and as soon as we meet the train I will
have a talk with the wagon master and try to influence him to submit to
being directed by you."

The third day from this place we met the train at a place called Horse
Shoe Bend. We saw a number of bands of Indians and passed several Indian
villages on the way, but we did not come into contact with any of them.
The train was just corralling for the night when we met them, and the
most discouraged-acting men I ever saw were in that train. The wagon
master told us that the Indians had attacked the train the day before
and killed five of his men, and he said, "If this had been anything
but a Government train, I should have turned around and gone back, and
Capt., you haven't half men enough to protect this train through the
Comanche country; we have just struck the edge of it, and the Comanches
are the largest and most hostile tribe in the west, and you see that
I lost five of my herders in the Kiawah country, and they are a small
tribe beside the Comanches."

Capt. McKee then told the wagon master what he had seen me do with a
band of Comanche warriors, and also told him what I said I could do for
the train if I had the control of the men and they would obey me.

The wagon master turned and looked at me a moment as if he was measuring
me and then said, "Young man, do you pretend to say that you know all of
the Comanche tribe?"

I answered, "No, sir, I do not know them all, but they all know me, and
there are hundreds of them that are particular friends of mine, and if
you are acquainted with the Indian character, you know that when an
Indian professes to be a friend he is a friend indeed, and there is no
limit to what he will do for you."

He then asked how I proposed to handle the train and the men. I
answered, "I want the men to ride beside the wagons, and in the rear of
them with a half a dozen just a little ahead of the teams, and I will
ride alone from a quarter to a half a mile ahead, and if the men in the
rear or those on the side see any Indians advancing on the train, I want
them to notify me at once, for I want to talk with the Indians before
they get to the train, no matter whether there are a few or many of
them."

The wagon master said, "I don't see anything to find fault with
your plans," and turning to McKee he asked what he thought of the
arrangement. Capt. McKee answered, "All that I find fault with is the
desperate chances Mr. Drannan will take in going out to meet the savages
all by himself." I said, "Capt., there is where you make a mistake. My
safety lies in my going out to meet the Indians alone, and I will assure
you and the other gentlemen that there will not be a gun fired if I can
get to the Indians before they get to the train."

At this moment the cook said supper was ready, and it did not take long
for me at least to get to eating it, for I was very hungry.

The wagon master, the Capt. and I messed together. The Capt. asked me
what I thought about putting out picket guards that night. I told him
that I did not think it necessary tonight, but further on the road it
might be advisable.

We had a quiet night's rest, and everybody seemed cheerful in the
morning, and we were on the road quite early. Before we started, I asked
the wagon master how many miles he traveled in a day, and if he stopped
at noon. He answered that he was four or five days behind time now and
would like to make twenty miles a day if he could, and he thought it
would not be advisable to stop at noon while we were in the Comanche
country, but when we got clear of the Indians probably he would lay over
a day or two, and let the teams have a rest.

Everything moved on pleasantly all that day. We did not see an Indian,
but towards evening we saw large bands of Buffalo all going south. That
night when we had got settled into camp, I told the Capt. that I would
take a ride five or six miles up the valley and see if I could find any
Indians' village or see any Indians and for them not to be uneasy about
me or look for me until they saw me.

I had ridden perhaps three miles when I saw a large band of Indians just
going into camp. They were about a half a mile from our trail right on
the bank of the Arkansas river. I knew that they were a hunting party
because their squaws and papooses were with them, which is never the
case if the warriors are on the war path.

I rode down among them, and as soon as the squaws saw me they commenced
to cry, "Hi-yar-hi-yar," and ran to me with extended hands, and they all
asked together if I had come to trade rings and beads. When I told them
that I would come again in four months and trade with them, they laughed
and said in their own language that they would have many Buffalo robes
ready to trade with me. As I was talking with the squaws, an Indian came
to me, one that I had known for quite a while, and invited me to his
wigwam to take supper with him and stay all night. I explained to him
that I could not accept his invitation that time and told him what I was
doing, and where I was going, but that I would return in four months and
would bring a plenty of knives and rings and beads to trade for Buffalo
robes.

This seemed to please him very much.

I bid them all good bye and went back to camp. It was rather late and
supper was over, but the cook had saved some for me. While I was eating,
Capt. McKee and the wagon master came to see me. The Capt. asked what I
had seen while I was gone. I said, "Capt., I saw enough Indian squaws to
keep me shaking hands for twenty minutes, and besides the squaws I saw
four or five hundred warriors and shook hands with a good many of them
and was invited to eat supper and pass the night with one of the Chiefs,
but I declined to do either, although I would have been more than
welcome."

The Capt. asked where the Indians were, and I told him. He asked how far
from our trail their village was. I told him between half and a quarter
of a mile. He said, "Have we got to pass in full view of that Indian
village?" I answered, "Yes, sir, that is the only road that leads from
here to Santa Fe." "And do you believe that we can pass them in the
morning without being attacked by them?" he asked. I said, "Capt., if
the men will obey my instructions, there will be no danger when we
strike out in the morning. We will all travel in the same order as we
did today, except that I shall not ride so far in advance of the train,
and if the Indians start to come towards the train, I will ride out and
meet them, and the train must keep right on, as if nothing had occurred,
and I will hold the Indians until the train is out of sight, and then I
will leave them and overtake you."

The Capt. said, "All right, Mr. Drannan, we will do as you have
directed, and if you succeed in this venture, I shall know that you have
the control over the Indians that you thought you had."

The wagon master said that he would not feel very easy until we had
passed and were out of sight of the Indians and their village, and I
believe he spoke the truth, for he was up and had everything ready. We
were on the road by sunrise. When we were nearly opposite the Indian
village, the squaws discovered us and came running towards us in droves.
I rode out and met them and had a general hand-shaking with them, and
they wanted me to assure them that I was coming in four months to trade
with them and wanted me to go and look at some of the robes they had
dressed, which I did, and in doing so, I saw something that I had never
seen before nor have I since. It was a white Buffalo skin, and the
animal must have been a half-grown cow judging from the size of the
skin. It was the prettiest thing of the kind that I had ever seen, or
ever have since. When I was looking at the beautiful thing, I asked the
Indian that I thought it belonged to how much he would take for it. He
said it was not his, that it was his squaw's. I asked her what her price
would be, and she answered, "One string of beads." I told her to save it
for me and in four months I would come back and bring the beads to her
and take the robe. I was so interested in looking at the robes and
talking with the Indians that time passed without notice, and the first
thing I thought about it, in looking at my watch I found it was nearly
noon. I now bid the Indians good bye, mounted my horse and started to
overtake the train. When I caught up with them, I found that the Capt.
was feeling very uneasy about me, and the wagon master thought the
Indians had taken me captive.

When I rode to the Capt's. side, he said, "This settles it. I have been
fighting the Indians for several years, and I must admit now that I
don't know anything about them, and I will confess that I was like "the
Missouri"; I had to be shown before I believed. But having seen like
them, I am satisfied that you knew what you were talking about. After
the experience of this morning, I cannot doubt that through your
friendship with the Red skins we shall get through to Santa Fe in safety
without having any trouble with them."

That evening when we went into camp, the Capt. and the wagon master came
to me. The Capt. said, "Mr. Drannan, you are so well acquainted with the
Comanche Indians, perhaps you can tell us where we shall pass their main
village and where the Indians are likely to be the most numerous." I
answered, "This is an unusually late fall, and the Buffalo are as a
consequence unusually late in going south and are more scattered than
they would be earlier in the season, and I do not think we will pass the
Comanches' main village under forty miles from here. You must understand
that the Comanches' main village is always near where the largest herd
of Buffalo cross the river, and from this on we will travel as we have
been doing; I will take the lead five or six miles in advance of the
train so that if we come on to a band of Indians or a small village I
can meet them and have a talk with them before the train gets up to
them, and Capt., I want you and the other men to keep a close look out,
and if any of you see any Indians coming towards the train from any
direction, send a runner after me at once, for I want to meet the
Indians before they get to the train."

The next morning we pulled out early, and we traveled without
interruption all day, and we did not see an Indian and but very few
Buffalo.

That night we camped on a little stream called Cotton Wood Creek. There
was fine water and the best of grass for the stock. That evening I told
the Capt. and the wagon boss that the three main Buffalo crossings were
within thirty miles of us, and we would probably have more trouble with
the Buffalos than we would with the Indians. "At this time of the year
it is no uncommon thing to see a herd of Buffalo from eight to ten miles
long, and from a half to a mile wide, and if we meet with such a herd,
all we can do is to stop and wait until they pass, for we could no more
get through them than we could fly over them, and, Capt., we now have
two dangers to avoid. The Indians and Buffalos. If you see a band of
Buffalo coming and I am not with you, have the wagon master corral the
train as quickly as possible, and as close as he can get them together.
I have considerable influence with the Indians, but I have none with the
Buffalos, so we must give the latter their own way and a plenty of room,
or they will tramp the train under their feet and us with it."

We were on the road in good season the next morning, and every thing
went smoothly until about eleven o'clock in the morning, when I saw a
large band of Buffalo coming from the north and heading directly for the
river. I rode back and met the train and told the wagon master that
he must corral the train at once, and he did not have time to get it
corralled too soon before the herd was near us, and I will say I had
seen a great many large herds of Buffalo before and have since that time
but never saw anything that equaled this herd. We waited until three
o'clock in the afternoon before we could move on our journey, and after
they had all passed us, one could see nothing but a black moving mass as
far as the eyes could see.

I asked the Capt. how many Buffalos he thought there were in that band.
He answered, "I think the number would run into millions. How many
Buffalos would it take to cover a half a mile square?"

I thought a moment and answered, "That is a difficult question to
answer, Capt. The way they were crowded together here I believe there
would be a hundred thousand on every half a mile square."

Capt. McKee said, "Yes, and on some of the half a mile square there
would be more than that number. I was in Texas nine years, and I saw a
great many bands of Buffalo in that time, but I had no idea that they
ever traveled in such immense bodies as the one that passed us today."

We proceeded but a short distance that afternoon but made an early camp
on account of water. While we were at supper, I was amused at some of
the remarks made by the teamsters. One of them said, "Boys, if I live
to get home, you will never catch me any farther west than the state of
Missouri again. Who would live in such a country as this is? Good for
nothing but Indians, Buffalos, and Coyotes, and any of the three is
liable to kill you if you get out among them." And another said, "How in
creation are we going to get home? If this train don't go back, we are
sure in for it."

The wagon boss said, "Boys, I should not think you would want to go back
over this country again." One of them said, "How would we live?" He
answered, "Why, you could go and live with the Indians, and then you
could have Buffalo meat to eat and hear the Coyotes howl all the time."

This remark made a laugh, but I noticed one of the teamsters wiped his
eyes on his coat sleeve and got up and left the crowd, and I saw the
tears running down his cheeks. After he had gone, one of the other
drivers said, "I pity John, for he thinks he will never see his
sweetheart again. It was to get money to settle down with that brought
him out here, and now he is afraid that he will never get back, and
I believe he will go crazy if he don't get to see his girl in a few
months."

The boss said, "It is too bad, and I will go and see if I can console
him."

When we were ready to strike the trail the next morning, I told the
Capt. that I thought we would pass the Comanches' main village that day.
Said I, "If it is late in the afternoon when we pass the Indian camp,
it will be best to drive on four or five miles before you stop for the
night, and do not pay any attention to me, for very likely I shall be in
the middle of the camp, talking with the Chief."

I struck out, and I had not ridden more than eight miles when in looking
off to the south I saw the Indian village. It was about a mile from the
trail on the bank of the Arkansas river. I turned my horse and went for
the village. When I was about halfway there, I met a number of young
bucks, and they all knew me. After I had shaken hands with them, I asked
where the old Chief's wigwam was, and they all went with me and showed
me where it was. As soon as I struck the edge of the village, every buck
and squaw commenced to shout and shake their hands at me. When I got to
the Chief's wigwam I dismounted, and as he came out to meet me I offered
my hand, which is always customary when one visits an Indian, be he
Chief or warrior.

After we had talked a few minutes, he told me in his own language that I
had come too soon. He supposed I had come to trade with the Indians for
Buffalo robes. I told him that I had not come to trade this time but
would come all prepared to trade in four months.

Then I told him what I was doing and where I was going, and I told him
that if he would tell all his Warriors to let us pass without disturbing
or molesting us in any way, I would make him a present of two butcher
knives when I came in four months to trade with them.

This promise seemed to please him, for he said I and the pale faces with
me could go through his country and none of his Warriors would disturb
us. I told him I would want to come back with the same wagons in about
one month, and he answered, "It is well," which meant "It is all right."

By this time there were hundreds of bucks and squaws and papooses around
the Chief's wigwam. They all thought I had come with knives and rings
and beads to trade with them. When the Chief told them that I was only
making him a visit, and that I would return in four months to trade,
they all wanted to shake hands with me, and while I was shaking their
hands, I saw the train pass along the trail, and by the time I had
shaken hands with them all it was out of sight.

I was now about to mount my horse to follow the train when the Chief
said, "No go now, stay eat dinner."

I knew that it would be considered an insult to refuse, so I said, "Wa
to," which means "All right."

I staked my horse out by tying him to a sage brush and accompanied the
Chief to his wigwam, and it was not long before the squaws had a plenty
of juicy Buffalo steak broiled and ready to eat, and I have no doubt the
reader will think me a very strange person when I say that I enjoyed
that meal, which was of broiled Buffalo meat alone without even bread,
more than I would now the most sumptuous dinner that could be cooked and
spread on the finest mahogany table, and that meal was spread on the
ground in an Indian wigwam with wild Indians for companions.

After a while, which seemed short to me, I looked at my watch and was
surprised to find that it was two o'clock in the afternoon. I bid the
Chief and his squaws good by and mounted my horse and was off in pursuit
of the train.

I overtook them just as they were corralling for the night. As I rode
into camp, Capt. McKee met me and said, "Mr. Drannan, you must bear a
charmed life. I never expected to see you again, either alive or dead."

I laughed and answered, "Did you think I was going to marry a squaw and
settle down in the Indian village, Capt? I thought you had a better
opinion of me than that. I will confess that I like the Indians pretty
well, but not well enough to be a squaw man."

This answer made a general laugh and upset the gravity that was settling
on all their faces. Capt McKee then said, "Where have you been all day,
Mr. Drannan?"

I told him I went to the Indian village which he passed and was invited
to eat dinner with the head Chief, and they made such a spread that I
like to not got away today. He said, "What could you have had for dinner
that it took all day to eat it?" I answered, "Buffalo steak straight
cooked in the most approved style."

This answer made such a laugh that the Capt. did not ask any more
questions until he and I were alone that evening. The wagon master and
Capt. McKee asked me to take a walk with them. After we had strolled
along a while, the Capt. said, "Mr. Drannan, how is it that you can go
into those Indian villages be they large or small? It seems to make
no difference to you, and the Indians do not molest you. Have you no
hesitation at all in going among the Indians?"

I answered, "Yes sir, I would hesitate a long time before I went into
the village of some tribes of Indians, but I have no fear of the
Comanches in small bands or when they are all together, for they are all
friendly to me, and instead of hurting me they would protect me from
harm, and there is something else I can guarantee, and that is that this
train will not be molested by the Comanche Indians, either going or
coming on this trip."

Capt. McKee said, "Where in the world could you get that guarantee, Mr.
Drannan?"

I replied, "Capt. McKee, I got it from the head Chief of the Comanche
tribe, and his word is law with all his warriors."

Then the wagon master spoke for the first time since we started on our
walk. He said, "In that case there is no need of all these men as an
escort, is there?"

I answered, "That is none of my business; it is nothing to me how many
men the Government employs to escort the trains. All I have to do with
it is to do my duty."

The Capt. inquired how I came to make such an arrangement with the
Chief. I told him that I had the idea in my mind from the beginning, and
that was the reason I wanted to go to the main village in advance of the
train, so I could arrange everything to suit myself before the train
came in sight.

The Capt. inquired how much it cost me to get the guarantee. I said,
"The cost was considerable, but I think the teamsters will be willing
to make it up to me, considering the trouble and perhaps loss of life I
have saved them."

The wagon boss said, "I reckon we all will want to take a hand in that
payment. Tell me what it costs, and be it ever so much, you shall not be
out a cent. I will go and see the boys right away and see if we can make
it up. How much shall I tell them?"

I answered, "I promised the Chief two butcher knives for the safety of
this train's passage through the Comanche country, both going to Santa
Fe and coming back."

They both stared at me as if they were amazed, and finally the Capt.
said, "What are you giving us? Are you joking or in earnest, Mr.
Drannan?"

I answered, "I have told just what I promised to give the Chief. We did
not call it 'paying,' and I have over three months to pay it in."

Capt. McKee said, "Two butcher knives for the safety of all our lives
and all the property in our care? How in the name of common sense could
you make such a bargain as that?"

I answered, "There is nothing very wonderful about the transaction,
Capt. I told the Chief that I would give him two butcher knives if he
would tell his warriors not to molest the train either going or coming
back, and he accepted my offer and seemed to think himself well paid. I
told him that I would come to trade with his tribe in four months and
that I would give the knives to him then."

Capt. McKee asked how many more villages we would have to pass through.
I told him that there were two more small villages. One was about ten
miles, and the other one about fifteen or twenty miles above us.

He inquired if I intended to visit each of those in advance of the train
as I had the ones we had passed; I replied, "I certainly do, for they
would think themselves greatly insulted if I should visit the other
villages and pass them by without paying them a visit too. The Indians
are very much like children. If you notice one, you must pay the same
attention to the others or there will be jealousy, and that is very
much to be avoided in this case. Besides, I expect to trade with those
Indians next spring, and I want to keep on the good side of all of them.
If one gets the ill will of one Indian, the whole tribe is against one,
and if you have the Chief on your side there is no danger from the
others."

When we returned to camp from our walk, the wagon master said, "Boys,
Mr. Drannan has hired the Chief of the Comanches to forbid his warriors
interfering with this train going to Santa Fe or when it is coming back.
Now I want to know how much money each one of you are willing to chip
in towards helping him out. You must remember that the contract he made
with the Indian Chief has not only saved the destruction of the train,
but more than likely some of us would have lost our lives if the Indians
had resented our passing through their country."

Three drivers, all from Missouri, came forward at once and said, "Mr.
Drannan, we haven't any money now, but as soon as we draw our pay, we
will give you twenty dollars apiece as our share."

Another man cried out, "I will give twenty-five."

Capt. McKee frowned and said, "Don't you think your lives worth more
than twenty-five dollars, men?"

This remark seemed to stir them up, and in less than ten minutes they
had subscribed four hundred and forty dollars.

The Capt. clapped his hands and said, "Mr. Drannan, you are safe," and
then told the men what the real expense would be to me. The Missouri
men answered, "Don't make any difference to us what he is to pay. The
bargain he made to save our lives is what we want to pay for as far as
we can."

I said, "Now boys, I believe that I have been instrumental in saving
some of your lives and probably the whole train, but you don't owe me a
cent of money for what I have done, and I want to say to you all that
if there should be any Indians come near the train while we are passing
through the Comanche country do not interfere with them in any way, and
you may rest assured they will not with you."

The Capt. now turned to the wagon master and said, "How much further do
you want me and my men to accompany you?" He answered, "I will leave
that for you and Mr. Drannan to decide."

I said, "Capt. McKee, I think you had better stay with the train until
we cross the river at Rocky Ford, which will take the train nearly out
of the Comanche country at this season of the year, and we ought to
reach Rocky Ford day after to morrow night, and as far as having an
escort is concerned, I do not think there will be any more need of one
after we cross Rocky Ford. I think the train will be perfectly safe to
go on alone under the present circumstances."

To this neither the Capt. or the wagon master would agree, for Capt.
McKee said, "You, Mr. Drannan, have been really the only protection the
train has had, and it is no more than right that you should accompany it
through to Santa Fe. I with my men will go on to Santa Fe, and I will
report that all is well with the train, and I will also report what you
have done in protecting the lives of the men as well as the Government
property on this trip."

The next morning we broke camp early and hit the trail in good season.
Everything went along smoothly until about two o'clock, when we came in
sight of a little Indian village. It was on the opposite side of the
Arkansas river.

I rode to the bank of the river where I saw a number of squaws on the
other side. I waved my hand at them, and they recognized me at once and
began crying, "Hy-ar-hy-ar," and they came to the brink of the river and
waved their hands at me. I called to them that in four months I would
come with a plenty of beads and rings and knives to trade with them.
They clapped their hands and answered, "Good-good," and I turned my
horse and rode back to meet the train.

I will here explain that all this conversation had been carried on in
the Comanches' language, as the Indians, neither bucks or squaws, could
understand a word of the English language at that time, and if I could
not have talked with them in their language, I would not have had the
influence over them that I had now.

That night when we went into camp, Capt. McKee got off a good joke on
me.

While we were eating supper, he said, "Mr. Drannan, I have caught on to
your tricks with the Indians. First you make love to the squaws, and
then you get the good will of the bucks by giving them knives to scalp
the white men with. I saw how you made love to the squaws today when you
were flirting with them across the river, and I saw them throwing kisses
at you too."

I answered, "Capt., you ought to be with me when I come down here to
trade with them. You would then see the real thing. I will acknowledge
that I get all the hand-shaking that I can stand up to, but as far as
kissing and hugging is concerned, that the squaws save for their own if
they give them to anyone."

The Capt. laughed and answered, "Well putting joking aside, Mr. Drannan,
I think the Indians of the Comanche tribe are all your friends, and no
mistake, and I see that you have a wonderful influence over them."

I answered, "Capt. McKee, I have been trading with those Indians four
years, and I have always done just as I agreed to do with them, which
is the secret of what you call my wonderful influence over them, and I
certainly have never had any trouble with one of the Comanche Indians
yet, and I will tell you furthermore, Capt., that I intend, if I go
back with this train, to carry the knives with me and stop at the main
village and give them to the old Chief, for I do not know how soon I may
have occasion to ask another favor of him, and I feel confident that as
long as I keep his good will he will never refuse to do me a favor."

We left this camp quite early in the morning, and all things worked
satisfactory throughout the day. We did not see an Indian and but very
few Buffalos. We reached Rocky Ford and crossed the river just before
night and went into camp, and Capt. McKee began to make preparations to
leave the train, as with his twenty men and also the twenty-seven men
who went with me from Bent's Fort he intended to strike out in the
morning for Santa Fe, where he could make his report, and the men could
receive their pay from the Government for their services on this trip.

Before he left us in the morning, I said, "Now Capt., there is a part of
the route between here and Santa Fe which I am not familiar with, and as
the country is strange to the wagon master also, can you tell me about
the water and also tell me how many days it will take the train to reach
Santa Fe from this place?" The Capt. answered, "As for water and grass,
you will find a plenty all along the way; there is not more than four or
five miles from one stream to another, and for the time it will take to
reach Santa Fe, I figure that it will take fourteen days if everything
moves as smoothly in the future as it has done the last few days, and
now, Mr. Drannan, have you any word you would like to send to Bent's
Fort to Mr. Bent or Roubidoux? I intend to go back that way, and I will
take any message to anyone there that you would like to send."

I said, "Tell Mr. Bent and Mr. Roubidoux that I will be at Bent's Fort
as soon as I finish this job and can get there, and that if they want me
to go and trade with the Comanches, I have everything cut and dried for
business, for I have visited all the main villages on this trip, and the
Indians are expecting to see me back in four months to trade with them."

The men all mounted now, and we shook hands and bid each other good bye,
and the Capt. and forty-seven others struck out back across the Arkansas
river for Santa Fe by the way of Bent's Fort, while the train kept on up
the old Santa Fe trail by the picket-wire route.

From this place I had a jolly time all the way to Santa Fe; we were in a
wild country where game was plentiful, such as Deer, Antelope, and black
Bear, and after the first day's travel there was never a night on the
trip but I had fresh meat for supper.

I traveled along with the train until the middle of the afternoon. Then
I always asked the wagon boss what kind of meat he wanted for supper.
Sometimes he would say Antelope, and at other times he said he would
like a piece of black tail Deer, and I invariably got what he mentioned.

We got up into the foot hills where Trinidad, Colorado now stands. The
wagon boss and I were riding along together one afternoon. I looked at
my watch and saw that it was about time to be looking for some meat for
supper. I asked him in a joking way what he would like best for supper
if he could get it. He replied that he would like a Cub Bear for a roast
tonight. Up to this time I had not seen a bear, although I had seen some
signs of them, and I had no more idea of killing a bear that evening
than I had of flying when I started out to get something for supper.

I struck out on a low ridge that ran almost parallel with the trail. I
had gone but a short distance when I came on a patch of huckleberries,
and they certainly looked as if they might be delicious. They were the
first I had seen that year. I jumped off my horse and went to picking
and eating as fast as I could. In a few minutes my horse gave a little
snort. When I turned to see what was the matter, I saw that something
had frightened him. I went to him at once, and not over fifty yards from
him was an old she bear, and she had two cubs with her, and I thought
they, like myself, were so taken with eating berries that they had not
noticed the horse or me either.

I took my rifle, dropped down on one knee, fired and broke one of the
cubs' necks. The mother bear ran to the dead cub and pawed it with her
foot. While she was thus engaged, I mounted my horse drew my pistol,
rode up to where the mother bear and her two cubs were in a bunch and
shot the other cub and broke this one's back, and it looked for a few
minutes as if I must run from the mother, as I did not want to kill her
for the reason that I had no use for so much meat. So I rode away a
short distance and watched her a few minutes. She pawed them over a few
times and seemed to think that they were no more good and with a few low
growls she trotted off into the brush, and I saw no more of her.

I then rode to the dead cubs and dismounted from my horse. I picked them
up and strapped them both on the back of my saddle and struck out to
overtake the train, which I did just as they were going into camp.

When the wagon master saw me coming, he came to meet me, and when he saw
the load on my horse's back, he exclaimed, "Mr. Drannan, I would like to
know if there is anything that you can't do that you take a notion to
do. I had no idea that you would bring in a bear this evening than I had
of doing so myself. I was only joking when I suggested bear meat for
supper."

I answered, "Well, you had your joke, and you and the rest of us can
have Bear's Foot roasted for supper, and as I have wanted some bear meat
for several days, I can please you and myself at the same time."

The whole outfit was amazed when I spoke about roasting the bears' feet.
They had never heard of such a thing before. When I got all the feet
roasted, I took one from the coals and told the men to help themselves.
They all gathered around me to see how I fixed it so I could eat it.
When I had it ready to eat, the wagon boss said, "Well, who ever thought
of eating Bears' Feet? But it does look nice."

He watched me eat a few minutes and then made the remark that, as I
seemed to like it so well, he guessed he would try one, and it was not
long before the boys all had a taste of Bear's Foot.

After he had demolished a whole foot, the wagon boss said, "I have
tasted almost all kinds of meat, but I must say that I never ate any
meat as good as Bear's Foot."

Some of the boys asked me if I could get some more Bears' Feet for
supper the next night, and one said he would give me a dollar if I would
get a big foot for him.

We got an early start on the road the next morning, and we traveled
along all day without anything of interest taking place.

Along in the middle of the afternoon I told the boss that I guessed I
would go and hunt some more huckleberries. He said, "I would not exert
myself to get any more meat today if I were you. We have enough for
supper that was left over from last night."

"Yes, but I want some huckleberries, and I will pick enough for your and
my supper if I can find them."

I struck out and rode a mile or more, but I was not at any time more
than a half a mile from the train. I came to a little ridge. When I had
ridden to the top of it, I saw something in the way of game that was
a great surprise to me, as I had not seen any of that kind in several
years. It was a large flock of wild turkeys. I saw that they had not
discovered me as yet. I looked all around and could see no place where
they could roost except a little bunch of timber about a quarter of a
mile from where they were feeding. I got back out of sight and rode back
to the train as quickly as I could. When I overtook the train, the boss
was looking for a place to corral, and it was not long before all was in
shape for the night.

I asked the boss if he would like to go turkey hunting that night. His
answer was that he always went turkey hunting in the daytime, when he
could see to shoot them. I asked him if he had never hunted them at
night, and he said no, and had never heard of any one else doing such a
thing.

I said, "All right, I will go to the boys from Missouri and ask them,
for I have found a flock of wild turkeys, and I know where they roost."

When I told the Missouri boys of my find, they were wild for the hunt.
One said, "Do I know how to hunt turkeys by night? You bet I do, and I
have a shotgun that will fetch one every pop."

I said, "All right, you can have a chance to try your gun tonight, for
the moon will be bright tonight, and we will start right after supper,
and I think we will have some fun and all the turkeys we want besides,
for the flock was a large one that I saw this afternoon."

When I was ready, I found eight of the boys had their guns all ready
and were waiting for me. It was not over a half a mile from camp to the
grove where I felt sure we should find the turkeys. When we reached the
edge of the timber, I said, "Now, boys, I think we had better split up
and two go together, and when any of you see a turkey, shoot him."

In a few minutes all I could hear was "bang, bang" all around me, and
once in a while the cry "I've got one" as the hunter captured one he had
wounded.

I spent most of my time laying at the foot of a tree, laughing and
watching the other fellows shoot and chase the turkeys, but the fun
did not last long. In a few minutes it was all over, and when the boys
gathered up their game, there were eleven turkeys, and I had not killed
a one, but I had my share of the sport in watching the others.

We struck back for camp, all the hunters feeling proud of what they
had done. When we reached camp, we found the cook waiting for us with
everything that would hold water and stand the fire that he could get
hold of full of steaming hot water, ready to scald the turkeys, and all
the men pitched in and helped to dress them.

When we were picking the turkeys, the boss said to the cook, "Say, John,
can't you preserve one of these birds, so it will keep until we get to
Santa Fe, and we will present it to Capt. McKee?"

John answered, "I am afraid it would not keep, Boss. There are too many
of us in this crowd that like turkey fried in bear's grease, and after
you have had breakfast in the morning, you won't say anything more about
preserving turkeys for somebody else to eat."

But notwithstanding this remark John kept two turkeys until we got to
Santa Fe the third day after the turkey hunt. We made the trip from
Rocky Ford to Santa Fe in thirteen days. We met Capt. McKee coming to
meet us about two miles before we reached our journey's end, and with
him was Col. Chivington, the commander of the Government Post at Santa
Fe. I was riding alone just a little ahead of the train. When I met
them, I saluted the Capt. and after we had shaken hands he introduced me
to the Col. whom I had never met before, although I had heard of him,
and he had heard of me also.

The Col. said, "Mr. Drannan, I have been acquainted with Capt. McKee for
several years, and have known him to have been a great Indian fighter,
but he tells me that you can do more with the Comanches alone than he
could do if he had five hundred soldiers to help him. Now, there must
be some secret about this, and I would like to be initiated into it. The
Capt. tells me that you went into the Comanches' main village alone, and
I presume there were several thousand warriors there at that time, and
what seems more wonderful to me," he said, "that you staid and ate
dinner with the head Chief. Now my friend, there must be something in
this unusual transaction. Will you tell me the secret of your influence
with the red men?"

I answered, "Col., if you were a member of a secret organization, would
you think it right to give away the secret to outsiders?"

At this answer the Capt. laughed and slapped the Col. on the back, and
said, "Col., I reckon, you have got your match in Mr. Drannan, for I
have never asked him a question that he did not find a way to answer me
without giving me the information that I was seeking."

Col. Chivington smiled but made no answer to the Capt. or me.

We rode in silence a few minutes, and then turning to me the Col. said,
"Mr. Drannan, I want you to come to my quarters tonight. I have a little
business that I would like to talk with you."

We soon got to headquarters, and as soon as the train was corralled, I
saw cook John coming to where the Col. the Capt. and I were standing,
and he had a turkey in each of his hands.

As soon as he reached us, he handed Capt. McKee one of the turkeys, with
the remark, "Here is your supper, Capt., and yours also, Col." and he
gave the other turkey to that Col.

They both looked at John in amazement, and the Col. said, "Thank you
very much, but where in creation did you get them?"

John answered, "I did not get them. You must give that honor to Mr.
Drannan, and I will say that he has provided every thing good to eat,
from turkey to bear feet, since we left Rocky Ford."

I went to Col. Chivington's quarters that evening, and as soon as we
were seated, he asked me if I intended to return with the train to
Bent's Fort.

I answered. "I have sent word to Mr. Bent that I was coming back to the
Fort as soon as I finished my business with the train here, but I have
not asked Capt. McKee whether Col. Bent wants my services or not."

At this moment Capt. McKee came in. I said, "Capt., what answer did Col.
Bent give to the message that I sent by you?"

He answered, "He said he wanted you to get back to the Fort as quickly
as you can, that they want you to go to the Comanche village on a
trading trip for them."

I turned to the Col. and said, "You see the position I am in, Col. You
must bear in mind that the train does not need an escort back to Bent's
Fort, for there are no Comanches between here and there, and I do not
see where there is anything to hinder the train in going back in perfect
safety."

The Col. then said, "Now Mr. Drannan, what do you expect for your
trouble in piloting the train here?"

I answered, "Col., I will leave that matter with you and Capt. McKee. He
knows what my services have been and what they were worth."

The Capt. said, "Col., it will be impossible to ever pay Mr. Drannan
the worth of what he has done to protect the train through the Comanche
country, in not only protecting the Government property, but the lives
of the men that were with the train. So Col., you will readily understand
what a difficult matter it is to put an estimate on what his services
calls for in money."

Col. Chivington sat in thought a few minutes and then said to me, "Mr.
Drannan, will two hundred and fifty dollars be a sufficient amount to
offer you?"

"That will be owing to circumstances, Col. If I drop the train here it
will, but if I am required to pilot the train back through the Comanche
country, I would not think of accepting so small an amount."

He then said, "Mr. Drannan, providing we employ you to take the train
back through the Comanche country, will there be need of any other
escort but yourself?"

I answered, "No sir, I would much prefer to handle the Indians by myself
than to have a crowd with me." I then said, "Col., you have the control
of this train. Why don't you make a contract with Col. Bent and Mr.
Roubidoux to load the train with Buffalo robes to freight back to the
Missouri river? I believe that if you could do so, it would nearly if
not quite pay the expense of the whole trip."

He answered, "That is something I had not thought of, but it looks as
if it might be a good scheme," and turning to the Capt. he said, "Capt.
McKee, will you return with Mr. Drannan to Bent's Fort and see if such
an arrangement can be made with Col. Bent and Mr. Roubidoux and report
to me as quickly as possible?"

The Capt. answered, "Yes, if you think it best, and we want to be on the
road early in the morning if I am to make such an arrangement."

Col. Chivington said, "Very well, I will hold the train here until I get
your report, and, Mr. Drannan, come to me in the morning, and I will
settle with you."

The Capt. and I now left the Col's, quarters, and on the way to our own
quarters the Capt. said, "Mr. Drannan, I think you were very unwise in
accepting so small an amount as two hundred and fifty dollars for your
efforts to save the lives, and more than that, think of what an expense
it would have been to the Government to fit out another train to take
the place of the one destroyed if the Indians had attacked it, which I
have no doubt they would if you had not been there to control them. A
thousand dollars is the least you ought to have accepted."

I answered, "Capt., I thank you for your interest in me, and I will
profit by it. I have another chance with the Col. if he employs me to
take the train back through the Comanche country, which I feel confident
he will."

The next morning we were up very early and ready to leave Santa Fe. I
went and bid the wagon boss and the other men of the train good bye and
told them of the arrangement now pending between the Col. and the
people at Bent's Fort. This news seemed to please the boys very much,
especially if I were to be their escort through the Indian country. The
wagon boss was anxious to know how soon we would know what we were
going to do. I told him we would know in eighteen or twenty days at the
outside.

Capt. McKee and I now went to the Col's. quarters, and he paid me the
two hundred and fifty dollars I had agreed to take. As we were leaving,
the Col. said, "Mr. Drannan, if the Capt. makes the arrangement in
regard to the freighting of the Buffalo robes, where can I find you?"

I answered, "I shall make Bent's Fort my headquarters from now on until
next spring."

Capt. McKee and I now pulled out for Bent's Fort. He being well
acquainted with the country, we did not take any road or trail, but took
our way across the country by the most direct route, and we made good
time all the way. As well as I can remember, it was called in the
neighborhood of three hundred miles from Santa Fe to Bent's Fort, and we
covered it in seven days on this trip.

When we landed at the Fort, Col. Bent and Mr. Roubedoux were both there.
Capt. McKee informed them what he had come for at once, and they were
more than anxious to close the deal with him, but they did not have
robes enough on hand to load the train. They then inquired how long it
would take the train to get there. The Capt. said he thought it would
take about twenty-five days; Col. Bent then turned to me and said, "Mr.
Drannan, will you take a pack train and go among the Indians and trade
for robes for us?"

I said, "Yes, I will." He asked how many days it would take to go to
the Indian village and get back. I answered, "To go to the main Indian
village and do the trading and get back here will take fourteen or
fifteen days."

Col. Bent asked me if I thought I could take twenty pack horses and go
to the Indian village and trade for and load them up with the help of
two men and get back to the Fort in fifteen days. I told him I thought I
could and was willing to try it anyway. "But, Col., I want you to send
the quickest and best packers in your employ to help me." He answered,
"I have two men that are number one packers, and you can rely on them in
every particular." I said, "All right, we will be off tomorrow morning."

We commenced to pack the goods that I was to trade for the Buffalo robes
which consisted of knives, rings and beads. We put each kind in boxes by
themselves. When I thought we had enough packed to trade for what robes
the horses could carry, Col. Bent said, "Here, Will, take some more,"
and he threw several knives and some rings, and a bunch of beads into
one of the boxes. "Maybe you will want a few to give some of the squaws
that are such friends to you down there. Such little gifts are never
lost among the Indians, you know, Will."

Col. Bent then sent some of his men out to gather up the pack horses so
he could pick out enough for a train.

The next morning Capt. McKee said he wanted to have a talk with me when
I was at leisure. I said, "Now is your time, Capt." So we started out
for a walk. We walked in silence. The Capt. seemed to be thinking. At
last he said, "Mr. Drannan, have you made any definite arrangements
with Col. Chivington regarding taking the train through the Comanche
country?" I answered, "No sir, I have not."

"What will you charge him if you take the job?"

I said, "Capt., I am not anxious to take the job, but if I take it, I
shall charge five hundred dollars for my services this time, and I would
like you to tell the Col. so when you go back to Santa Fe. I think this
amount will be very reasonable from the fact that there will be no
more expense. If he had to feed forty or fifty men and pay them wages
besides, he would find quite a difference, and after all, they would
be no protection to the train, and they and the drivers also would be
scalped before they had passed one Indian village. So taking all things
into consideration I think that Col. Chivington acted rather close with
me, more close than I shall allow him to do again." Capt. McKee said
that he thought my charges were very modest, and he continued, "There
is another thing I want to talk to you about, provided you go with this
train. What do you propose doing when you come back?"

I answered, "I am open for anything that is honorable and has enough
money in it to pay me."

He said, "I intended to make up a company soon to go down on the Pan
Handle country in Texas, and I expect to go down as far as Fort Worth. I
would like you to join me. What do you think of the idea, Mr. Drannan?"

"What is your object in going down there, Capt.?" I asked. He said,
"Western Texas is settling up very fast, and the Apache Indians are very
bad there. They are murdering the white people every day, and something
must be done to protect them from the Red fiends. I have seen enough of
your methods with the Indians to satisfy me that you understand them and
how to manage them better than anyone I have ever met with, and I am
sure you would suit me better than anyone that I know. If you will join
me in this undertaking, the state of Texas will pay us well for what we
do towards protecting the settlers. I believe the Apache Indians are the
most vicious as well as the most treacherous of any tribe of Indians
that ever infested the frontier from the fact that they are so mixed
with the Mexicans and never have been conquered."

I said, "Capt. McKee, if I take the train back and you are not gone when
I come back here, I will join you in this trip to Texas, or if you will
leave word where I can find you, if it is within two or three hundred
miles of here, I will come to you."

We turned back to the Fort with the understanding that, in case he left
the Fort without me, he would leave word where I could come to him.

CHAPTER VIII

The next morning my packers and myself were up early and ready to be off
for the Indian village. I told the boys to be sure and take a plenty of
rope as all the hides would have to be baled before they could be packed
on the horses. One man said, "I have four sacks full of rope, and I
reckon that will be enough."

Col. Bent asked me how many hides I thought I could pack on the horses.
I told him I could put twenty hides on each horse, and that would make
four hundred and forty hides in all. He said, "That would be a big load,
and I am afraid you cannot do it. Besides, it is early in the season for
the Indians to have so many robes. But do the best you can, and I shall
be satisfied." I bid the Col. and Capt. McKee good bye, and we were off.

The second night out we camped near a little village. I told the boys to
get supper, and I would go over to the village, and have a talk with the
Indians. As soon as the Indians saw me, they thought I had come to trade
with them. I told them that I was on the way to the main village and for
them to come there tomorrow, and I would be ready to trade with them.

[Illustration: The next morning we struck the trail for Bent's Fort.]

We landed at the main village about noon the next day, making the trip
in a half a day less than I had planned to do. We camped near the old
Chief's lodge. The boys commenced to get dinner, and I took the two
knives that I had promised the Chief and went to his wigwam. I greeted
him with a handshake and handed him the knives wrapped in a paper. He
opened the package, and I never saw such a smile on a face before as the
one that beamed on that Indian's. He examined the knives carefully, and
then he told me how proud he was of them and said in his own language he
would always be white brother's friend.

I told him that I would be ready to trade with his people the next
morning and asked him to inform them of the fact.

The boys had dinner ready when I went back to our camp. I told the boys
when I would commence to trade with the Indians, and that I wanted them
to be in readiness to begin packing the robes as soon as the Indians
gave them to me.

That afternoon I went around among the wigwams and visited the Indians,
and they seemed as pleased to see me as children are with a new toy. I
showed the squaws the rings and beads I had with me, and I showed the
knives to the braves also, and they could hardly wait until morning to
trade their Buffalo robes for them.

The squaws showed me the robes they had dressed since I was there the
last time, and I saw that they were in a fine condition.

The next morning they commenced coming very early, hardly giving me time
to eat my breakfast, and I fixed my price when I bought the first robe,
which was one string of beads for one robe, or two rings or one butcher
knife, and the reader can rest assured that the Indians kept me busy
handing out my goods and taking the robes in payment for them.

About noon one of the packers came to me and said, "Will, I think you
have all the robes the horses can carry." I told him to count them, and
then we would know, and in a short time he came back with the report
that we had bought four hundred and eighty-nine robes. I said, "That is
a few more than we can find a place for, isn't it?"

He said, "I reckon we can get them all on, and we will finish baling as
soon as we can, but don't trade for any more," and the boys certainly
did prove themselves to be expert balers as well as packers.

The next morning as they finished packing a horse, I had to hold him,
and so on until the horses were all packed. It was my job to take care
of them, and when the horses were all ready for the trail, they surely
were a sight to look at. Each horse was completely covered. All there
was to be seen of him was his head and his tail.

The next morning amidst the lamentations of the Indians because we could
not exchange more of our goods for robes, we struck the trail for Bent's
Fort, and we had the extraordinary good luck to cover the distance in
three days, and Col. Bent, and Mr. Roubidoux were very much surprised to
see us, as well as pleased.

They did not expect to see us in four days more, and when I told them
how many hides we had brought, they were more than pleased. Col. Bent
said, "Did you have any goods left over?"

I answered, "Yes sir, almost enough to have loaded another pack train."

He said, "Well, well, Will, you can have all our trading to do whenever
you want it."

I asked the Col. when he expected the train from Santa Fe. "I don't
think it will be here under four or five days," he answered, "and I want
you to make yourself at home and be easy until the train comes. You have
done enough to lay over awhile, and the rest won't hurt you."

The fourth morning after this I was saddling my horse to ride out on the
trail and see if I could see anything of the Government train when Col.
Bent asked me where I was going. I told him I was going to see if the
train was in sight, "and what is more important to me, I want to find
out whether I am going to escort the train through the Comanche country
or not."

Col. Bent said, "I thought that was understood. If I thought you were
not going to be the escort, I certainly would not trust my freight with
the train."

I said, "Col. Bent, I have not made any positive bargain with Col.
Chivington, and after Capt. McKee tells him what I said about the price
I intend to charge him for my services this trip, he may decide not to
employ me."

Col. Bent said, "Would you be offended if I asked you how much money
Col. Chivington paid you for that work, Will?"

I said I would not, and I then told Col. Bent the whole transaction, and
I also told him what I would charge to escort the train back through the
Comanche country, and that I would take the whole responsibility myself
without any helpers. Col. Bent said, "Col. Chivington was not fair to
you in offering you so small a sum for what you done to protect the
Government property, not speaking of the lives you probably saved
from the savages' arrows or tomahawks, and I think you charge a very
reasonable price if you undertake the job over again and you don't want
any one to help you, for they might upset all of your plans by doing
something to anger the Indians."

I answered, "Well, Col. I will soon settle the matter if I meet the
train."

I then struck out and had ridden perhaps ten miles when I met Capt.
McKee and the wagon master coming just ahead of the train.

Capt. McKee said, "Why, Mr. Drannan, I thought you were at the Indian
villages trading for Buffalo robes."

I told him that I had been to the Indian village and bought all the
robes we could pack back to Bent's Fort and had been waiting for the
train to come four days.

Capt. McKee said, "And I expected to have to wait for you four days." I
said, "Now tell me what Col. Chivington had to say about my escorting
the train."

The Capt. laughed and said, "After the Col. had studied the matter over
for about twenty-four hours, he came to the conclusion that he could do
no better than employ you. So the job is yours, and Mr. Drannan, can you
tell me just about how long you will be gone so I can lay my plans to
meet you here at Bent's Fort?"

I said, "Capt., I want about twenty-five days to complete the trip, and
as soon as I return, Capt, I will be ready to join you in the expedition
to Texas, and Capt., I would like for you to bring my pay here so
I shall not have to go to Santa Fe after it when I come back from
escorting the train."

He answered, "I will arrange the matter so Col. Bent will settle with
you here."

The next morning Col. Bent had his men commenced to load the train, and
they put the entire day in this business. That evening the Col. said to
me, "Will, if you had a half a dozen more hides, we could not have put
them on the wagons."

When we were all ready to pull out, Col. Bent said, "Now Will, I want to
give you some presents to give to the squaws."

We went into the store room, and he gave me a dozen butcher knives,
saying, "The bucks will be jealous if they don't have something too,"
and he gave me a dozen rings, and a hand full of strings of beads and
said, "Now, Will, you can give these trinkets where you think best and
the knives too. I know the Comanche Indians are all friendly to you, but
these little trifles will cement their friendship."

I bid everybody at the Fort good bye, and we were off on the journey
east.

Everything passed along smoothly for the next two days. We did not see
an Indian, and nothing happened to interfere with our progress. The
third evening we went into camp near a small Indian village. I rode
over to see the Indians and took a couple of knives and a few rings and
strings of beads with me. When I entered the village, I inquired where
the Chief's wigwam was. A couple of young bucks showed me where it was.

As soon as I saw the Chief, I knew him at once. He was "White Bird," and
he had not met me in a year, but he recognized me as quickly as I did
him. He invited me into his wigwam and asked me to eat supper with him,
which was ready in a short time. As we sat eating, two young squaws came
into the wigwam, and White Bird said they were his sisters. I took out
a butcher knife and gave it to him, and I gave a string of beads to his
squaw and one to each of his sisters. They all jumped up and commenced
to dance, and I think they kept it up for half an hour. Then White Bird
said in the language of his race, "White Bird and all the Indians of the
Comanche tribe always be pale face brother friend."

His sisters said they had some skins of the young dog which they would
tan and give to me so I could make some new clothes for myself.

The train pulled out from there, and the third day we came to the main
village. Before the train went into camp for the night, I told the wagon
boss that I was going to the Indian village and that he need not expect
to see me before midnight as I was going to have a good time with the
Indians.

I gave my horse into the herders' care and struck out on foot for the
Indian village, which was about a half a mile from our camp. Before I
reached the Chief's wigwam, I met several Indians, and they accompanied
me to the Chief's lodge. Chief Light Foot saw me before I did him and
commenced to shout at the top of his voice, and as I reached his wigwam
the Indians were coming from every quarter.

As soon as Light Foot and I had shaken hands, he said, "Stay to supper,
and we have a peace smoke and peace dance tonight."

By the time we had finished that meal there was a dozen or more of his
uncle Chiefs at the wigwam, and we took our places for the peace smoke.

I will explain to the reader what the peace smoke is. We all took seats
in a circle around the head Chief. He lighted the peace pipe, which is
a special pipe kept to use on these occasions alone. He took the first
whiff himself, blowing it up into the air, and the second whiff he blew
into my face. I being his guest of honor, I sat at the right of him. The
third whiff he blew into the face of the Chief who sat on his left, and
then he passed the pipe to me. I went through the same performance and
passed the pipe to the next, and so the pipe went around the circle
until all had smoked, and in all the time this smoking was going on
there was not a smile or a grunt or a word spoken. Every motion was in
the most solemn way throughout the whole performance. As the last one
finished smoking, he passed the pipe to the head Chief, and all of the
Chiefs sprang to their feet and shook hands with me, from the head Chief
down, and the peace smoke was over.

I will say here for the instruction of the reader that the Indians never
held a peace smoke with others than the members of their own tribe,
without they had perfect confidence in the outsider, who always occupied
the seat of honor at the right side of the head Chief of the tribe.

After the peace smoke was over, everybody left the wigwam and everyone,
Chief, warriors, and squaws, all joined in the peace dance, I of course
taking a part with the rest. I never knew how many took a part in the
dance that night, which is always danced in a circle, and every Indian
has his or her own way of dancing, and all, old and young, male and
female, that take a part are singing.

It would be impossible to explain to the people of this age so they
would understand just what a peace dance is and how the people who took
part in it looked with the camp fires throwing their lurid light through
the darkness of the forest, lighting up the savage faces of the red men,
and the not-much-less wild faces of the squaws. It was a strange sight
then. How much more strange it would look to the people of this later
civilization.

The dance lasted half an hour or more, and all the Indians of both sexes
then shook hands with me. I shook the Chief's hand last of all, and as
I did so, I gave him the other knife I had brought with me. He took it
and, brandishing it over his head, he shouted as loud as he could yell,
which was a signal for all the others to yell too and shake their hands
towards me. By my giving these knives to the head Chief of the tribe, I
cemented the friendship of him and through him of the whole tribe more
than I should if I had presented each one of his warriors with a knife.

Amidst the yells of the warriors and their squaws, I left them and
walked back to camp, well satisfied with what I had done towards
protecting the train as it passed through the Comanche country, for I
knew we would not have any trouble with the Indians of that tribe.

The wagon boss and several of the drivers were sitting at the fire
waiting for me. As I came up to the fire, the wagon boss said, "What in
the name of common sense was the racket about? Why, some of the time
this evening there was such a noise over there that we could not hear
ourselves think, much less talk."

I answered, "Why, I was just having a good dance with the squaws, and as
they all wanted to dance with me first, they made a little noise over
it."

He asked, "How many squaws were there in the dance?" and I told him I
reckoned there were about a thousand in the crowd.

"And did you dance with a thousand squaws?" he inquired.

I answered, "Why, I certainly could not show any partiality there, could
I?"

He said, "Well, if you have danced with that many squaws, I guess you
are tired enough to sleep sound."

So we bid each other good night and turned in, and in a few moments
silence reigned over the camp.

We pulled out of this camp the next morning and did not see an Indian
for the next three days. On the third evening, as we were getting ready
to camp for the night, I discovered a small band of Indians coming
directly towards us. I told the wagon master where to corral the train,
and I then left him and rode on to meet the Indians. As I drew near
them, I saw that I knew them all. They were a small band of Comanches,
and when I met them they told me that they had been on a visit to the
Kiawah tribe and were hurrying to get back to the main Comanche village.
I told them of the peace dance I had taken a part in at the main village
a few nights before, and they expressed much regret that they had missed
the fun.

I asked them if there were many more of their tribe down the country
they had come from. They answered, "No more Comanches that way, all
gone to village," which proved to be a fact, for we did not see another
Comanche Indian on this trip.

I remained with the train four days after this, and, seeing that my
services were no longer needed, I told the wagon master that the train
was out of danger, as we had passed through the Comanche country, and
there would be nothing to interfere with their progress, so I would
leave them the next morning.

In the morning, when the wagon boss told the men that I was going to
leave them, a number of them came to me and insisted on my taking at
least ten dollars from each of them in payment for the bargain I had
made with the Comanche Chief regarding the passage of the train on its
way to Santa Fe.

Of course, I did not accept their hard-earned money. I told them that
I was glad of the privilege of saving their lives. And besides, the
Government would pay me for my services.

Cook John had a nice sack of bread ready for me, and I accepted his gift
gladly. I bid them all good bye and struck out for Bent's Fort, and it
was about as lonesome a journey as I ever made in my life. I avoided the
Indian villages when I could, for I knew that the Indians would take
more of my time than I could spare if I stopped at all.

I made a rule with myself when I first left the train to ride eight
hours and then stop and let my horse rest and feed four hours. This rule
I followed day and night, except a few times I overslept, but I gave my
horse his feed and rest just the same, and I was back at Bent's Fort on
the twenty-third day after leaving there with the train.

The next morning after I got there, Capt. McKee arrived, and he was very
much surprised to find me there before him. He had made arrangements for
Col. Bent to pay me for piloting the train through the Comanche country,
and Col. Bent settled with me that day. The next morning Capt. McKee and
I began our preparations for our journey to Texas. He had thirty-two
men with him when he came to the fort, and eight more joined us there,
making forty in all. Each man had two saddle horses, and there was one
pack horse to every four men. Everything being ready, we left Bent's
Fort on what would be considered in these days of rapid transit a long
and tiresome journey on horse back, over trackless mountains and plains,
through valleys, across rivers, in danger of attacks from wild animals
and still wilder red men.

I think we traveled between four and five hundred miles without seeing
a white person. We camped and lay over one day to give our horses rest
where the thriving little city of Amarillo now stands. At that time we
had no idea that vast prairie would ever be inhabited by the white race.
That part of Texas was the greatest country for Antelope at the time I
am speaking of that I had ever seen. Some days we saw a thousand or more
Antelope in one drove.

We now began to see plenty of Indian signs all along where we traveled.
There were no roads or trails to guide us. We had traveled down what
is now called the Pan Handle country, to where the city of Bowie now
stands, before we saw a white person after we left Bent's Fort. We met
three men there. They were going around through the country hunting for
men to assist them to look after a settlement that had been attacked by
the Indians the night before. They did not know what tribe had made the
attack. Capt. McKee said, "We will go with you and assist you if you
will lead us to the place."

We all struck out with the men, and after riding perhaps five miles, we
came to the settlement and found that one man had been killed and all
the horses and cattle belonging to the people had been driven off.

Capt. McKee asked if they knew what tribe of Indians had made the
attack. They answered that they did not know, as it was very dark when
the Indians first came, and they could not see them, but they had a
skirmish with them, and one man was killed, and the Indians drove the
horses and cattle off in a southerly direction. The Capt. asked me if
I thought it would be best to follow the savages and try to take the
horses and cattle away from them.

I said, "Capt., these people have lost everything they had to depend on
to get a living, and what will they do if someone does not do something
to help them? And all the way to do that is to get their horses and
cattle and return them to the owners."

He answered, "Well, if you will take the lead and do the scout work, we
will strike the trail of the Red devils at once."

I said, "All right, Capt., you pick out two good men to assist me, and
we will be off at once, for the sooner we are after them the quicker we
may overhaul the Red murdering thieves."

In a few minutes the Capt. came to me, and with him were two men. He
said, "These men say they are willing to do all they can to help." I
said, "I will take the lead, and don't you pay any attention to my
movements. You take the trail and follow it as long as you can see
it, and when it is too dark to see, go into camp, and if I locate the
Indians, whether they are in camp or on the move, I will inform you at
once."

It was in the middle of the afternoon when we pulled out on the trail of
the Indians. After following them eight or ten miles, I decided in my
mind that there were not more than forty Indians in the band we were
after.

I said, "Now boys, if we catch these Indians in camp, we can wipe them
out and not leave one of them to tell the tale. We have a bright moon
tonight, and their trail is so fresh and plain there will be no trouble
in following it."

One man asked if I thought we could overtake the Indians in their first
camp. I answered, "I think we can, for the Indians will have no fear of
being followed and will not be in a hurry and will be off their guard."

We pushed on until about eleven o'clock in the night when we rode up
on a little ridge, and, on looking down in the valley beyond, we saw
several camp fires, but they were burning very dimly.

I said, "Boys, there are your Indians, and I want one of you to stay
here and hold the horses, and the other to go with me, and we will
investigate the matter," and said to the man that we left with the
horses, "If you hear the report of a gun, mount your horse and lead ours
to us at once, for the gun shot will be a signal that we are in trouble
and want you to assist us."

My companion and I crawled down near the camp fires, and we saw that all
the Indians were lying around the fires asleep, but they were scattered
about so that I could not count them.

I whispered to my companion, "Now let us find the stock."

We crept down a little further and found the horses and cattle all
feeding quietly, and they were all bunched up together. We went back to
the man who had the horses. I told him to mount his horse and take the
trail back until he met Capt. McKee and to tell him what we had found,
and if it was possible for him to get here by daybreak to do so, "for if
we can all be together before daylight, I think we can capture the whole
outfit without losing a man."

He mounted his horse and was off at once. He had been gone perhaps an
hour, and my comrade and I were sitting talking, when he raised his hand
and said, "Hush, I hear something."

"What did it sound like?" I said.

"Like a horse snorting," and he pointed up the trail the way the Capt.
should come. We sprang to our feet and listened, and in a minute more we
heard the tramp of the horses' feet. We quickly mounted our horses and
went to meet them. I told the Capt. what we had found and what position
the Indians were in.

He said, "Mr. Drannan, what do you think is the best way to attack
them?" I answered, "It is the easiest thing to do imaginable Capt., if