Read Ebook: Capt. W. F. Drannan Chief of Scouts As Pilot to Emigrant and Government Trains Across the Plains of the Wild West of Fifty Years Ago by Drannan William F

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 1543 lines and 103634 words, and 31 pages

After crossing the Colorado river we came into the Ute country, but we traveled several days without seeing any of this tribe. About five days after we crossed the Colorado river, we came on to a big band of Sighewash Indians. The tribe was just coming together, after a winter's trapping and hunting. At this time the Sigh washes were a powerful tribe, but not hostile to the whites.

We camped near their village that night. After supper Carson and I went over to this village, at the same time taking a lot of butcher knives and cheap jewelry with us that he had brought along to trade with the Indians. When we got into their camp, Carson inquired where the chief's wigwam, was. The Indians could all speak Spanish; therefore we had no trouble in finding the chief. When we went into the chief's wigwam, after shaking hands with the old chief and his squaw, Carson pulled some of the jewelry out of his pocket and told the chief that he wanted to trade for furs. The old chief stepped to the entrance of the wigwam and made a peculiar noise between a whistle and a hollo, and in a few minutes there were hundreds of Indians there, both bucks and squaws.

The old chief made a little talk to them that I did not understand; he then turned to Carson and said, "Indian heap like white man."

Carson then spoke out loud so they could all hear him, at the same time holding up some jewelry in one hand and a butcher knife in the other, telling them that he wanted to trade these things for their furs.

The Indians answered, it seemed to me by the hundreds, saying, "Iyah oyah iyah," which means "All right." Carson then told them to bring their furs over to his camp the next morning, and he would then trade with them. He was speaking in Spanish all this time. On our way back to our camp Carson said to me, "Now Willie, if I trade for those furs in the morning I want you and the other two boys to take the furs and go back to Taos; I know that you will have a long and lonesome trip, but I will try and get three or four of these Indians to go with you back to the head of the Blue, and be very careful, and when you make a camp always put out all of your fire as soon as you get your meal cooked. Then the Indians can not see your camp."

They brought from one to a dozen Beaver skins each, and then the Bucks began coming in and then the trading began. Carson would hold up a finger ring or a knife and call out in Spanish, "I'll give this for so many Beaver skins!"

It really was amusing to see the Indians run over each other to see who should get the ring or knife first.

This trading did not last over half an hour because Carson's stock of goods was exhausted. Carson then said to the Indians, "No more trade no more knives, no more rings, all gone."

Of course a great many of the Indians were disappointed, but they soon left us. As soon as they were gone Freemont came to Carson and said, "What in the name of common sense are you going to do with all those furs?"

The Col. said, "Don't you think you are taking a great many chances?" "Oh, no, not at all. Willie here is getting to be quite a mountaineer. Besides, I am going to get some of these Indians to go with the boys as far as the head of the Blue, and when they get there they are, comparatively speaking, out of danger."

He then said, "Colonel, we will lay over here today, and that will give me a chance to pack my furs and get the boys ready to start in the morning."

We then went to work baling the hides; by noon we had them all baled. After dinner Carson and I went over to the Indian camp. We went directly to the Chief's wigwam. When the Indians saw us coming they all rushed up to us. I presume they thought we had come to trade with them again. Uncle Kit then told the Chief that he wanted eight Indian men to go with us boys to the head of the Blue River. At the same time he sat down and marked on the ground each stream and mountain that he wanted us to travel over. He told them that he would give each one of them one butcher knife and two rings, and said they must not camp with the Utes.

I think there were at least twenty Indians that wanted to go. Carson then turned to the Chief and told him in Spanish to pick out eight good Indians to go with us, and told him just what time we wanted to start in the morning. We then went back to our camp and commenced making arrangements for our journey to Taos.

Carson and I were sitting down talking that afternoon when Col. Freemont came and sat beside us and said to Uncle Kit, "Say, Kit, ain't you taking desperate chances with these boys?"

This surprised me, for I had never heard him address Carson as Kit before in all the time I had known him.

Carson laughed and answered, "Not in the least; for they have got a good escort to go with them." Then he explained to Freemont that he had hired some Indians to go with us through the entire hostile country, telling him that the boys were just as safe with those Indians as they would be with the command, and more safe, for the Indians would protect them, thinking they would get his trade by so doing. Uncle Kit then explained to him that the Sighewashes were known to all the tribes on the coast and were on good terms with them all, and therefore there was no danger whatever in sending the boys through the Indian country. The Col. answered, "Of course, you know best; I admit that you know the nature of the Indian thoroughly, but I must say that I shall be uneasy until I hear from the boys again."

Uncle Kit said, "Wait until tomorrow morning, and I will convince you that I am right."

The next morning we were up early and had breakfast, and before we had our animals half packed the old chief and hundreds of the Indians were there. Those that the chief had selected to accompany us were on horse back, and the others had come to bid us farewell, and that was one of the times I was tired shaking hands.

When we were about ready to mount our horses and had shaken hands with Uncle Kit and the balance of the company, the Indians made a rush for us. Both bucks and squaws shouted, "Ideose, ideose," which means, "good bye, good bye," and every one trying to shake our hands at once, and of all the noise I ever heard, this was the worst. After this racket had been going on some fifteen or twenty minutes, I turned and saw Uncle Kit and Col. Freemont standing on a big log laughing like they would split their sides. Finally Uncle Kit motioned for me to mount my horse. I mounted and the other boys followed suit, and when we started of all the noise that ever was made this beat any I ever heard in all my life. At the same time the Indians were waving their hands at us.

As soon as we left the crowd of Indians Uncle Kit and Col. Freemont joined us. The Col. said to me, "Willie, this is one of the times you have had your hand well shaken, I really felt sorry for you, but I didn't see how I could assist you, and I am in hopes you will not get such a shaking up in a good while. Now, my boy, be very careful, and try and get through safe and sound, and when we come along back next fall, we will all go to St. Louis together."

Uncle Kit told me to not let the Indians turn back until we crossed the divide at the head of Blue river. He said, "Then you will be out of the Ute country, and all danger to you will be over, but do not put too much confidence in these Indians although I think they are reliable and will do just as I have told them to do. But I want you to be on the lookout all the time yourself. I know there will be no danger in the daytime, and when night comes be sure and put your fire out before it gets dark, and when you get to Taos rest up a few days, and then hunt up Jim Bridger or Jim Beckwith, and they will advise you what to do. It may be that I will get home myself, in which case you will not need their advice."

We now bid them "good bye" and started on what would be called now a long, tedious and dangerous journey, but at that time we thought nothing of it.

How long a time it took us to make this trip I do not remember. The Indians traveled in the lead the most of the time. When near the middle of the afternoon, I would ask them in Spanish how far they were going tonight, and they would tell me the number of hours it would take to go but seemed not to understand the distance by miles. The Indians showed more judgment in selecting the camping ground than I expected they would.

In a few days we were in the Ute country, and we saw plenty of Indian sign every day. I think it was on one of the tributaries of the Green river we were traveling along one afternoon, we came in sight of a band of Ute Indians. They were in camp. We were in about a half a mile of them when we first saw them; they were directly to the north of us, and they discovered us at the same time we saw them. As soon as the Sighewashes saw the Utes they stopped, and two of the Sighewashes rode back to us and said in Spanish, "We go see Utes," and they rode over to the Ute camp. Probably they were gone a half hour or more, when they returned, and we surely watched every move the Utes made till the Sighewashes came back to us. When they came back they were laughing and said to us, "Utes heap good." Then I was satisfied that we were in no danger.

We traveled on some five or six miles when we came to a nice little stream of water where there was fine grass. I said to the boys, "We'll camp here. Now you boys unpack the animals and take them out to grass, and I will go and kill some meat for supper."

I picked up my gun and started; I didn't go over a quarter of a mile till I saw four Bison cows, and they all had calves with them. I crawled up in shooting distance and killed one of the calves. At the crack of my gun the cows ran away. I commenced dressing the calf and here came four of my Sighewash Indians running to me, and when they saw what I had killed, I believe they were the happiest mortals that I ever saw.

As soon as I got the insides out I told them to pick up the calf and we would go to camp. Some of them picked up the carcass and others picked up the entrails. I told them we did not want the entrails. One of the Indians spoke up and said, "Heap good, all same good meat". I finally persuaded them to leave the insides alone.

When we got back to camp, the boys had a good fire, and it was not long before we had plenty of meat around the fire, and I never saw Indians eat as they did that night. After they had been eating about an hour, Jonnie West said to me, "Will, you will have to go and kill more meat, or we won't have any for breakfast."

We soon turned in for the night and left the Indians still cooking. In the morning we were surprised to see the amount of meat they had got away with. What they ate that night would have been plenty for the same number of white men three or four days. The nature of the Indian is to eat when he has the chance and when he hasn't he goes without and never complains.

For the next three days we traveled through a country well supplied with game, especially Elk, Deer, and black bear. It was now late in the summer and all game was in a fine condition, it was no unusual thing to see from twenty five to a hundred Elk in a band. I have never seen since that time so many Elk with so large horns as I saw on that trip, which convinced me that there had been no white hunters through that part of the country before.

In traveling along there were times we were not out of sight of deer for hours; consequently we never killed our game for supper until we went into camp, and as a rule, the boys always picked me to get the meat while they took care of the horses. I remember one evening I was just getting ready to start out on my hunt. I asked the boys what kind of meat they wanted for supper. Jonnie West said, "Give us something new." Well, I answered, "How will a cub bear do?" They all answered, "That is just what we want." That moment I turned my eyes to the south, and on a ridge not more than three hundred yards from camp, I saw three bears eating sarvis berries. I was not long in getting into gun shot of them. There was the old mother bear and two cubs. I had to wait several minutes before I could get a good sight on the one I wanted, as they were in the brush and I wanted a sure shot. I fired and broke his neck; he had hardly done kicking before Jonnie West and some of the Indians were there. We made quick work getting the meat to camp and around the fire cooking, and it was as fine a piece of meat as I ever ate.

The next morning we bid the Indians good bye, but before they left us one of them stooped down and with a finger marked out the route we should take, thinking we did not know the country we must pass over, and strange to say, the route this wild Indian marked out in the sand was accurate in every particular. He made dots for the places where we should camp and a little mark for a stream of water, then little piles of sand for mountains, some large and some small, according to the size of the mountain we were to cross. After he had finished his work, I examined the diagram and I found he had marked out every place where we should camp.

From there to the head of the Arkansas river, I called Jonnie West and asked him to look at it. He examined it at every point and said, "This beats any thing I ever saw or heard tell of; with this to guide us, we could not get lost if we tried to."

We were now ready to start. Jonnie said to me, "Well, I feel we owe this Indian something. How many butcher knives have you?"

I said, "I have two." "Alright, I will give him this finger ring and you give him one of your knives."

We did so, and I think he was the proudest Indian I ever saw; he jumped up and shouted, "Hy-you-scu-scum, white man," which meant "Good white man."

The Indians all shook hands with us and then mounted their horses and were gone. We now pulled out on our long and dangerous trip to Taos, New Mexico, and strange to say, we never missed a camping ground that the Indians had marked out for us, until we reached the head of the Arkansas river, and the beauty of it was, we had good grass and good water at every camping place, which was very essential for ourselves and our horses.

When we struck the head of the Arkansas river we considered ourselves out of danger of all hostile Indians. Besides, we knew every foot of the ground we had to travel over from here to Taos, New Mexico. We camped one night on the river, down below where Leadville stands now, and I never saw so many huckleberries at one place as I saw there. After we had our horses unpacked and staked out to grass, I said to the boys, "Now you go and pick berries, and I will try and find some meat for supper." I did not go far when looking up on a high bluff I saw a band of mountain sheep. I noticed they had not seen me yet and were coming directly towards me. When they got in gun-shot, I fired and killed a half-grown sheep, and he did not stop kicking until he was nearly at my feet. This was the first mountain sheep I had ever killed, and it was as fine a piece of meat as I ever ate, and until this day, mountain sheep is my favorite wild meat. This was one of the nights to be remembered, fine fresh meat, and ripe huckleberries, what luxuries, for the wilds to produce.

In a few days we reached Taos, and here I met my old friend Jim Bridger. After laying around a few days and resting up, Jonnie West said to me, "Will, what are we going to do this winter? You are like me, you can't lay around without going wild."

I said, "That's so, Jonnie. Let's go and hunt up Jim Bridger, and ask him what he is going to do this winter."

We went to the house where Jim was boarding and we found him in one of his talkative moods. We asked him what he proposed doing this winter; he said, "I am going out a trapping, and I want you boys to go with me."

I asked him where he was going to trap, and he said he thought he would trap on the head of the Cache-la-Poudre, and the quicker we went the better it would be for us. "I have all the traps we will need this winter," he said; "now you boys go to work and mould a lot of bullets."

The reader will understand that in those days we used the muzzle-loading gun, and we had to mould all of our bullets. In a few days we were ready to pull out. I asked Jim if we could keep our horses with us through the winter. He said, "Yes, as the snow does not get very deep in that country, and there is plenty of Cotton Wood and Quaker Asp for them to browse on in case the snow gets deep. Besides, it will save one of us a long tramp in the spring, for we will have to have the horses in order to pack our furs on."

In a few days we were ready to pull for trapping ground. Each one of us took a saddle horse and two pack horses. We were on the road nine days from the day we left Taos until we reached our trapping ground.

We traveled down Cherry Creek from its source to its mouth, and across the Platte, where Denver City, Colorado, now stands. At that time there was not a sign of civilization in all that country.

After crossing the Platte a little below where Denver now stands, we met about five hundred Kiawah Indians, led by their old chief. The Kiawas were friendly to us, and the chief was a particular friend of Jim. He wanted to trade for some of our beaver traps. He kept bidding until he offered two horses for one trap. Jim refused to trade, but he made the chief a present of a trap. After Jim refused to take the horses, a young squaw came running out and offered to give me as fine a buffalo robe as I ever saw; I was in the act of taking it and was congratulating myself on what a fine bed I would have that winter when Jim said, "Will, don't take that. There is more stock on that robe than we can feed this winter. Open the hair and look for yourself."

I did so, and I saw the Grey Backs all through the hair as thick as they could crawl. I had never seen such a sight before, and the reader can imagine my horror. I dropped it so quick that Jonnie West laughed and asked me if it burnt me. The boys had the joke on me the balance of the winter. Most every day they would ask me if I didn't want a present of a Buffalo robe from a young squaw.

A few days after this, we were on our trapping ground, and our winter's work of toil, hardship, and pleasure had begun. We soon had our cabin built in a little valley, which was from a half mile to a mile wide and about eight miles long. On each side of the valley were high cliffs. In places there was a half a mile or more where neither man or beast could climb these cliffs, and we were surprised later on to see the quantity of game of various kinds that came into this valley to winter, such as Elk, Deer, and Antelope. I never, before or since, have seen so many Wild Cats, or Bob Cats, as they were called at that time, and also some cougars.

I remember one little circumstance that occurred later on; it was about the middle of the afternoon; we had all been to our traps and had returned to the cabin with our furs. Jim said, "Will, we will stretch your furs if you will go and shoot a deer for supper."

This suited me, so I took my gun and went outside the door to clean it. Just as I had got through, Jonnie West looked out and said, "Look, Will, there is your deer now; you won't have to hunt him."

I looked, and sure enough, there he was, in about a hundred yards of the cabin. Jim Bridger fired at him and knocked him down, but he got up and ran into a little bunch of brush. I ran to the spot, thinking he was only wounded and that I should have to shoot him again. When I reached the brush, to my surprise, I found five big wildcats, and they all came for me at once. I fired at the leader, and then I did some lively running myself. As soon as I got out of the brush, I called the boys, and we got the cats, the whole of the bunch, and the deer besides, which had not been touched by the cats.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet