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Tales of the Santa Fe Trail

 

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After the last savage had ridden away into the sand hills on the opposite side of the river, each one of us had a thrilling story to relate of his individual narrow escapes. Though none was killed, many received wounds, the scars of which they carried through life. I was wounded six times. Once was in the thigh by an arrow, and once while loading my rifle I had my ramrod shot off close to the muzzle of my piece, the ball just grazing my shoulder, tearing away a small portion of the skin. Others had equally curious experiences, but none were seriously injured.

 

After the excitement incident to the battle had subsided, the realization of our condition fully dawned upon us. When we were first robbed, we were only a short distance from Santa Fe, where our money easily procured other stock; now there were three hundred miles behind us to that place, and the picture was anything but pleasant to contemplate.

 

Indians watching approaching wagon train

Indians watching approaching wagon train on the

Santa Fe Trail.

 

To transport supplies for thirty-five men seemed impossible. Our money was now a burden greater than we could bear; what was to be done with it? We would have no use for it on our way to the settlements, yet the idea of abandoning it seemed hard to accept. A vigilant guard was kept up that day and night, during which time we all remained in camp, fearing a renewal of the attack.

 

The next morning, as there were no apparent signs of the Indians, it was decided to reconnoiter the surrounding country in the hope of recovering a portion, at least, of our lost stock, which we thought might have become separated from the main herd. Three men were detailed to stay in the old camp to guard it while the remainder, in squads, scoured the hills and ravines. Not a horse or mule was visible anywhere; the stampede had been complete--not even the direction the animals had taken could be discovered.

 

It was late in the afternoon when I, having left my companions to continue the search and returning to camp alone, had gotten within a mile of it, that I thought I saw a horse feeding upon an adjoining hill. I at once turned my steps in that direction, and had proceeded but a short distance when three Indians jumped from their ambush in the grass between me and the wagons and ran after me. The men in camp had been watching my every movement, and as soon as they saw the savages were chasing me, they started in pursuit, running at their greatest speed to my rescue.

 

The savages soon overtook me, and the first one that came up tackled me, but in an instant found himself flat shared the same fate. By this time the third one arrived, and the two I had thrown grabbed me by the legs so that I could no longer handle myself, while the third one had a comparatively easy task in pushing me over. Fortunately, my head fell toward the camp and my fast-approaching comrades. The two Indians held my legs to prevent my rising, while the third one, who was standing over me, drew from his belt a tomahawk, and shrugging his head in his blanket, at the same time looking over his shoulder at my friends, with a tremendous effort and that peculiar grunt of all savages, plunged his hatchet, as he supposed, into my head, but instead of scuffling to free myself and rise to my feet, I merely turned my head to one side and the wicked weapon was buried in the ground, just grazing my ear.

 

 

 

The Indian, seeing that he had missed, raised his hatchet and once more shrugging his head in his blanket, and turning to look over his other shoulder, attempted to strike again, but the blow was evaded by a sudden toss of his intended victim's head. Not satisfied with two abortive trials, the third attempt must be made to brain me, and repeating the same motions, with a great "Ugh!" he seemed to put all his strength into the blow, which, like the others, missed, and spent its force in the earth. By this time the rescuing party had come near enough to prevent the savage from risking another effort, and he then addressed the other Indians in Spanish, which I understood, saying, "We must run or the Americans will kill us!" and loosening his grasp, he scampered off with his companions as fast as his legs could take him, hurried on by several pieces of lead fired from the old flintlocks of the traders.

 

By sundown every man had returned to the forlorn camp, but not an animal had been recovered. Then, with tired limbs and weary hearts, we took turns at guarding the wagons through the long night. The next morning each man shouldered his rifle, and having had his proportion of the provisions and cooking utensils assigned him, we broke camp, and again turned to take a last look at the country behind us, in which we had experienced so much misfortune, and started on foot for our long march through the dangerous region ahead of us.

 

Scarcely had we gotten out of sight of our abandoned camp, when one of the party, happening to turn his eyes in that direction, saw a large volume of smoke rising in the vicinity; then we knew that all of our wagons, and everything we had been forced to leave, were burning up. This proved that, although we had been unable to discover any signs of Indians, they had been lurking around us all the time, and this fact warned us to exercise the utmost vigilance in guarding our persons.

 

Though our burdens were very heavy, the first few days were passed without anything to relieve the dreadful monotony of our wearisome march; but each succeeding twenty-four hours our loads became visibly lighter, as our supplies were rapidly diminishing. It had already become apparent that even in the exercise of the greatest frugality, our stock of provisions would not last until we could reach the settlements, so some of the most expert shots were selected to hunt for game; but even in this they were not successful, the very birds seeming to have abandoned the country in its extreme desolation.

 

After eight days travel, despite our most rigid economy, an inventory showed that there was less than one hundred pounds of flour left. Day after day the hunters repeated the same old story: "No game!" For two weeks the allowance of flour to each individual was but a spoonful, stirred in water and taken three times a day.

 

One afternoon, however, fortune smiled upon the weary party; one of the hunters returned to camp with a turkey he had killed. It was soon broiling over a fire which willing hands had kindled, and our drooping spirits were revived for a while. While the turkey was cooking, a crow flew over the camp, and one of the company, seizing a gun, dispatched it, and in a few moments it, too, was sizzling

along with the other bird.

 

Now, in addition to the pangs of hunger, a scarcity of water confronted us, and one day we were compelled to resort to a buffalo-wallow and suck the moist clay where the huge animals had been stamping in the mud. We were much reduced in strength, yet each day added new difficulties to our forlorn situation. Some became so weak and exhausted that it was with the greatest effort they

could travel at all. To divide the company and leave the more feeble behind to starve, or to be murdered by the merciless savages, was not considered for a moment; but one alternative remained, and that was speedily accepted. As soon as a convenient camping-ground could be found, a halt was made, shelter established, and things made as comfortable as possible. Here the weakest remained to rest, while some of the strongest scoured the surrounding country in search of game. During this temporary halt the hunters were more successful than before, having killed two buffaloes, besides some smaller animals, in one morning. Again the natural dry fuel of the prairies was called into requisition, and juicy steak was once more broiling over the fire.

 

With an abundance to eat and a few days' rest, the whole company revived and were enabled to renew their march homeward. We were now in the buffalo range, and every day the hunters were fortunate enough to kill one or more of the immense animals, thus keeping our larder in excellent

condition, and starvation averted.

 

Doubting whether our good fortune in relation to food would continue for the remainder of our march, and our money becoming very cumbersome, it was decided by a majority that at the first good place we came to we would bury it and risk its being stolen by our enemies. When not more than half of our journey had been accomplished, we came to an island in the river to which we waded, and there,

between two large trees, dug a hole and deposited our treasure. We replaced the sod over the spot, taking the utmost precaution to conceal every sign of having disturbed the ground. Though no Indians had been seen for several days, a sharp lookout was kept in all directions for fear that some lurking savage might have been watching our movements. This task finished, with much lighter burdens,

but more anxious than ever, we again took up our march eastwardly, and, thus relieved, were able to carry a greater quantity of provisions.

 

Having journeyed until we supposed we were within a few miles of the settlements, some of our number, scarcely able to travel, thought the best course to pursue would be to divide the company; one portion to press on, the weaker ones to proceed by easier stages, and when the advance arrived at the settlements, they were to send back a relief for those plodding on wearily behind them. Soon a few

who were stronger than the others reached Independence, Missouri, and immediately sent a party with horses to bring in their comrades; so, at last, all got safely to their homes.

 

In the spring of 1829, Major Bennett Riley of the United States army was ordered with four companies of the Sixth Regular Infantry to march out on the Trail as the first military escort ever sent for the protection of the caravans of traders going and returning between Western Missouri and Santa Fe. Captain Philip St. George Cooke, of the Dragoons, accompanied the command, and kept a faithful journal of the trip, from which, and the official report of Major Riley to the Secretary of War, I have interpolated here copious extracts.

 

The journal of Captain Cooke states that the battalion marched from Fort Leavenworth, which was then called a cantonment, and, strange to say, had been abandoned by the Third Infantry on account of its unhealthiness. It was the 5th of June that Riley crossed the Missouri at the cantonment, and recrossed the river again at a point a little above Independence, in order to avoid the Kaw, or Kansas, which had no ferry.

 

After five days' marching, the command arrived at Round Grove, where the caravan had been ordered to rendezvous and wait for the escort. The number of traders aggregated about seventy-nine men, and their train consisted of thirty-eight wagons drawn by mules and horses, the former preponderating. Five days' marching, at an average of fifteen miles a day, brought them to Council Grove. Leaving the Grove, in a short time Cow Creek was reached, which at that date abounded in fish; many of which, says the journal, "weighed several pounds, and were caught as fast as the line could be handled." The captain does not describe the variety to which he refers; probably they were the buffalo--a species of sucker, to be found to-day in every considerable stream in Kansas.

Having reached the Upper Valley, bordered by high sand hills, the journal continues:

 

Continued Next Page

 

Apache Indians

In northeast New Mexico and southern Colorado, the attacking Indians were most often Jicarillo Apache.

This image available for photographic prints HERE!

 

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