THE PHANTOM LIAR OF GREASE WOOD DESERT
A portion of the compound constituting the waters of the Platte, with
which many of our effects were saturated, passed into the air by
evaporation in the sun, but a residuum of clay and sand long remained as
a reminder of the day spent in the muddy flood of that river. We were
happy to find that our ammunition was uninjured. We waited three days
for the arrival of Phillip's mule train, which was at Julesburg and with
which we expected to proceed, but finally learned that it would not
hazard an attempt to ford a river that had proved so disastrous to
others. In the meantime we hunted sage hens and jack rabbits, which were
numerous in that sage brush country.
It has often been said of Yankee mechanics that they are "Jacks of all
trades and masters of none." Necessity has made them self-reliant. Such
were we, and the delay afforded us an opportunity to put everything in
good order. Although there were no harness makers, blacksmiths, or
carpenters, to repair harness or wagons, no horseshoers to shoe the
horses, and no shoemakers or tailors to mend boots or garments, nearly
every member of our company showed himself fully qualified to do very
satisfactory work and with few tools in each of these lines of industry.
The valuable miscellaneous training in the primitive days in our
country, when the trades were not specialized as they are now, fitted
the young men of that time for such emergencies.
Deciding that our present situation justified a violation of army
regulations, we moved forward alone to the crossing of Lodge Pole Creek,
a milky-colored stream about fifteen feet in width. They told us at
Julesburg that the Indians were accustomed to obtain lodge poles from a
place near the distant sources of this stream, a fact to which it owed
its euphonious name.
We had camped some distance from the trail, and having taken our horses
over the ridge into another ravine, had picketed them on the best grass
that could be found. It was my duty to stand guard and watch the horses
until midnight. The night was clear and still, and although it was
bright starlight, it seemed to be very dark in the ravine. I took a
position slightly up the hillside and reclined with ear near the ground.
About midnight there came seemingly from some very distant source, a
low, deep, rumbling roar. For a time it was impossible even to surmise
the cause. It seemed to be subterranean and yet it was not an
earthquake, for the sound was continuous and gradually increased in
depth and power. In a few minutes I became convinced that it was caused
by the hoofs of a great number of running horses approaching through the
ravine. As a measure of precaution I thought it best to move a little
out of the valley to a position behind a growth of sage brush near-by,
and there await developments. An Indian raid at midnight was hardly to
be suspected, nor had we heard of any large body of cavalry in those
parts. The sound increased in power like the roar of an approaching
tornado, and an onrushing mass finally swept round the nearest curve in
the ravine. Our horses, frightened by the approaching herd, suddenly
started in advance, as could be inferred from their snorting and the
rattle of the iron picket pins, some of which were pulled from the
ground. All were soon in flight. Those which failed at once to escape
were carried along the next moment with a solid, resistless tide of
oncoming mules which leaped one upon another. As the drove swept by I
caught glimpses here and there of the moving forms, which showed that
the mules were riderless; being stampeded, their fright was communicated
to one another--those in the rear crowding upon those in front; and some
of them, I believe, stumbled and were run over by the compact mass that
followed. In a moment all had passed; but for a long time in the
direction of a range of hills to the west, could be heard the roar of
hundreds of hoofs and the ring of the picket pins as they were dragged
over the stony ground. The sound did not die away entirely in its slow
diminuendo until the mules had passed the range six miles to the west.
On visiting the spot where our horses had been picketed, we found that
every one of them had been carried away in the mad rush, and unless we
could recover them the inconveniences would be most serious. The natural
conclusion then was that the large herd had been stampeded by mounted
Indians, who would soon follow.
When about to return to camp to report the situation to our party, I
became conscious of the approach of mounted men from the same direction
as that from which the stampede came.
I soon heard their voices. They proved to be four men on horseback, who
(I then suspected) might have caused the rush. Myself a party to the
loss of stock, and believing it to be my duty quickly to summon our
party, I fired my rifle in advance of the riders. Wishing to make myself
appear as numerous as possible, I repeated the challenge with two or
three additional shots in rapid succession, and with as firm a voice as
I could command called to the riders to halt. To my surprise they did
halt. One of the men gruffly asked, "Who are _you_?" Another shouted
what seemed rather an incoherent declaration, the tenor of which as I
caught it, was in effect that I was shooting at the United States
Government. Perhaps it was the darkness and the fact that I was out of
their reach that inspired me with sufficient confidence to order them
not to proceed further until we could ascertain who they were. The
pronoun "we" was used not only to emphasize the authority of the speaker
and thereby command respect, but also on the theory that the more
numerous I could make myself appear the safer I was likely to be until
our boys should arrive in response to the rifle call. As was expected,
our men rounded up very quickly, for our campers were not compelled to
dress and make an elaborate toilet on receiving a call. A mutual
investigation followed, through which we learned that a Government train
of which we had no previous knowledge had camped three miles northwest
of our trail, and their stock, about 240 in number, had been stampeded
through the carelessness or folly of one their own drivers; and the
animals were away before their men were prepared to start in pursuit.
They had been able to find a few saddle horses which had been picketed
and had not escaped in the panic. On being informed very definitely
concerning the direction which the flying herd had taken, the riders,
after giving the assurance that all of our horses would in time
doubtless be returned, started on their hunt. After daybreak they
encountered no difficulty in following their course, which was well
marked by hoof tracks; and in the forenoon all of our horses were once
more at our command, but none the better for their escapade.
This Lodge Pole Creek ford became of some interest to overland travelers
by reason of the fact that some years later the old Oregon trail, which
we were still pursuing, was here crossed by the Union Pacific Railroad,
which up to this point along much of its course was built exactly upon
the trail marked by the first Mormon emigrants in 1847, following many
of its windings. This fact suggests a striking comparison between the
early and the later modes of travel. Our party, moving as steadily as
possible, had consumed twenty-five days in reaching this point from the
Missouri River. Ben Holliday's stages, when they followed the route that
we were taking, reached Lodge Pole on the fifth day, being driven
continuously night and day with relays of horses every ten or fifteen
miles. It is now reached in twelve hours by express trains.
Our next day's journey after leaving Pole Creek was over a series of
ridges along an excellent roadway the great part of the distance. The
highest points disclosed fine views of the rocky cliffs along the North
Platte. There is a marked change in the general features of the country
as compared with those seen along the Platte valley east of Julesburg.
The road showed that it had been traveled but little. We were able to
make a drive of twenty-eight miles, reaching Mud Spring in the evening.
Why this tiny fountain should be so denominated is unknown and
unknowable; it was the first clear, living water that we had seen west
of the Missouri River, except in a few wells at stage stations. In
February of the preceding year this spot was the scene of some sharp
fights with the Indians.
And now there lay immediately before us the longest and most difficult
drive of the trip, concerning which we had secured much information. It
would conduct us across a wide stretch of sandy desert in which there
was no pasturage; and forty long miles must be laid behind in order to
reach a camp ground where there was any grazing whatever for horses. The
preceding day had been intensely hot, and there were no indications of
any immediate change in the temperature. To secure the benefit of the
cooler early hours we were off at exactly three o'clock in the morning.
Near where we entered the dreary waste of sand we parallelled for a
short distance a small stream, concerning which we had been advised that
it was the only desirable place for lunch. We had prepared some cold
boiled beans, bacon and coffee, which we pulled from the mess box, and
as the rays of the sun had now become very oppressive, we prepared to
drop down upon the hot sand in the shade of a wagon. The Deacon
protected himself somewhat from the sands by sitting upon a rolled-up
blanket. Others remained standing or dropped upon their knees, but Pete
remarked that as the tallest and largest man in the party he was fairly
entitled to a certain high mound of sand of convenient shape, which he
found well in the shade. These piles were formed by some little clumps
of grease wood, or similar growth, which the sand had drifted round and
in many cases entirely covered, as a little obstruction will sometimes
collect a small snow drift.
Pete, who was a tall, powerful, but rather slow-moving individual,
dropped wearily and heavily upon the sand heap which he proposed to
occupy by right of squatter sovereignty. Although it was a long distance
from the seat of Pete's "pants" to the seat of his intelligence, yet
the information was quickly transmitted to his brain that something was
under him that was not all sand. With a sudden yell, as if stung by a
serpent, he leaped into the air with agility and enthusiasm of which he
had hitherto been deemed altogether incapable. Peter swore. He then
inspected the sand pile, while we watched him with dismay, being
ignorant of the cause of his frenzy. Reaching out at arm's length, he
cautiously poked the mound with his whip stock and found, not a
rattlesnake, but only an oval-shaped cactus slightly concealed beneath
the sand. Its long spines as sharp as needles and almost uncountable in
number, under the weight of Pete's body had penetrated his flesh no one
yet knows how far. As the punctured parts could not easily be examined
by the sufferer, his companion, Noah, performed the operation of
removing such of the needles as were visible. Many without doubt
remained, for during the next two or three days Peter walked with short
steps, _staccato_, and rarely indulged in a sitting posture.
[Illustration: JAIL ROCK AND COURT HOUSE ROCK]
The stream near which we had halted afforded the last opportunity to
obtain water until we should complete the long drive across the sands.
Our horses were fed with fine wheat flour, the only nourishment which we
could secure to stay them through the day. After having filled the water
kegs and canteens from the stream, the difficult march was continued.
The day was so intensely hot that nearly all members of the party walked
to relieve the perspiring horses. The country we were traversing was an
area of loose, dry sand. Its surface was marked by small mounds and
ridges of sand, the ridges all trending in one direction and evidently
drifted with the prevailing wind behind a clump of stunted grease wood,
a small shrub which grows on alkaline soils and, like other desert
growths, is stiff and stubby,--possibly a provision of nature to
preserve its scant foliage from being browsed; shrubs so protected
remained, a survival of the fittest. Some such provision is certainly
necessary to protect the plant life of the desert in its struggle for
existence. The surface of the sand was slightly hardened by a thin
scale, possibly due to solidification in drying, after a passing shower
had moistened the salts in the sand. The scale in many places prevented
the wheels from sinking deeply. The wagons were, therefore, scattered
along side by side, because a track once followed was deeply cut in the
ruts. Numerous lizards (swifts) glided along the parched surface of the
Sahara and were the only specimens of animal life that I observed there
with any interest.
An experience on this grease wood desert may have prompted the inquiry
ascribed to one of our statesmen, who is alleged to have asked in 1843
concerning this western territory, "What do we want with the vast
worthless area, this region of savages and wild beasts, of deserts of
shifting sands and whirlwinds of dust, of cactus and prairie dogs?"
In spite of the oppressive heat of the day and the long tramp still
before us, Ben, who was tough and untiring, proposed a little side tramp
by way of diversion. For many miles we had observed the majestic
outlines of the conspicuous landmark well known as Court House Rock. As
our course finally approached within two miles of its cliffs, Ben and I
determined to secure a view from its summit. That remarkable monument
stands in solitary grandeur upon the barren plain; it has, however, a
worthy associate not far away, another prominence known as the Jail;
these high bluffs are appropriately named. From a distance Court House
Rock has the appearance of some vast, ancient ruin. The grandeur and
beauty of its outlines and the majesty of its proportions have made it a
notable landmark for all travelers who pass that way. We found its
ascent comparatively easy, but the descent was somewhat difficult
because of the projecting terraces which, though of hard material, were
cracked, leaving projections that could not be depended upon for
support. Although we might well have saved our energies for the hot
tramp through the sands which lay before us, we obtained views of the
"bad lands" to the west, which were very impressive.
It seemed as if in the Creation there had been a vast amount of crude
material left over, which had been dumped into that waste, but the
essential elements of life were wholly absent. As far as could be seen
through the clear, hot, and quivering air of noonday everything was
silent and dead. On reaching the trail Ben and I followed the track of
our wagons in the white sand, which glowed like a furnace, and finally
overtook our party, which was slowly dragging along with occasional
pauses for rest.
We had seen no person during the day except members of our own party.
Beyond the border of the sandy waste I dropped back again, but this time
with Noah, who was also wearily trudging along now over a more hilly and
broken country toward the north Platte. We were surprised to see
approaching us from the north, as if about to cross our course, a
long-haired individual, rather tough in appearance, with whom we
exchanged a few commonplace words, with the usual question as to what he
was "driving at" in that country, but obtained no definite information.
Having been informed that there were numerous rattlesnakes in the hilly
country, I aimed a question concerning snakes at the presence that
stood before us. Something in his appearance led me to believe that he,
if anyone, would be informed on the subject. "Yes," he replied, "there's
right smart of rattlesnakes around here." Simply to continue the
conversation, we asked if he had killed many. Before making any reply he
slowly hauled from deep down in his "pants" pocket a plug of tobacco,
and inserting it between his big teeth chewed off a section that proved
to be large enough to interfere somewhat with his articulation. He then
stood silent for a moment, while he transferred the tobacco from one
cheek to another. The cynical expression upon his face impressed us with
the idea that he had all the qualities required to make a first class
stranger. He then related an alleged experience with a rattlesnake.
Although not inclined to accept it as exactly true in all particulars,
we offer it here not quite in _ipsissimis verbis_ but substantially as
given, simply for what it may be worth as a problematic contribution to
natural history. His thesis at the outset was, that if one gains the
affection of a rattlesnake through some special act of kindness the
serpent may on some occasions afterward express its profound gratitude.
He said that his "pardner" Jim, once upon a time, discovered a six-foot
rattler lying fastened under a rock which had rolled upon it while it
was lying torpid in the sun. Instead of taking advantage of the reptile
while it was in this helpless condition, he carefully released it, and
thereafter the snake on many occasions manifested indications of its
gratitude, and became a veritable pet, following the man wherever it was
permitted to go, and guarding him faithfully. Jim, therefore, called it
Annie, because he came from Indiana.
On being awakened one night, Jim, observing that Annie was missing from
her usual place near his bed, hastily arose to discover the cause of her
absence. Lighting a candle, he opened an outside door of the ranch house
and soon heard Annie rattling her tail. He then discovered that the
snake had run a skulking Indian into the other room, and was holding him
there a prisoner, while her tail, which was sticking out of the window,
was rattling like a dinner bell, calling Jim to come in and help kill
the "cuss."
We asked the red-headed, pink-eyed, big-mustached rancher if this was
really a true story, and if his own personal reputation would give
credit to his statements. He replied that he had lived in those parts
for seven years and had never yet been lynched. This was surely to be
accepted in that elementary waste as an evidence of good moral
character. He admitted that he had a few horses off in the hills which
he could part with in case a prospective buyer was anxious to get some
fresh ones, but we did not ask him to produce any evidence of his title
to the animals. The conclusion of this instructive and interesting
incident afforded the narrator a much needed opportunity to discharge
from his mouth a large quantity of tobacco juice, which for a
considerable time had interfered with his enunciation.
His reference to the Indian led us to ask if many Sioux were now in that
country. In reply to this question he hesitated a few moments, while
with a hand in each of his pockets he turned his eyes in various
directions as if the subjects of which he was to speak might be
concealed in some of the gullies near-by. He finally said there were
right smart of 'em along the North Platte here a while ago, "but I guess
most of them have gone up to Laramie. They don't bother me very much,
but the other day my pardner was out and I was all alone in the shanty
and my horse was hitched in front. I went out the door for something and
there were six Indians a-coming up in a hurry. When they saw me three of
'em shot at me but didn't fetch me. I ain't no sucker with a gun, but I
only had one six-shooter in my belt and knowed it was no time for
fooling." Accompanying his words with action showing how he did it, he
added, "I jerked out my gun jest so, and give it to 'em, and there was
jest enough cartridges in it to go around, but they went around."
"Do you mean to say that you didn't miss a shot?" asked Noah. "Oh, I'm
all right with a gun; them Injuns won't bother me any more." Astounded
at the man's coolness and bravery, I asked if the Indians had guns. He
replied that they had bows, but they started in at pretty long range for
bows and arrows.
At that moment we heard three or four rifle shots which attracted our
attention toward the direction which our train had taken. The train was
now out of our sight. We both concluded that some of the boys had
discovered game. Turning again toward the spot where a minute before had
stood the daring hero of Grease Wood Desert, we discovered that he had
vanished and no sign or trace of him was visible. The only possible
avenue by which he could disappear and still remain in the flesh was by
a narrow, crooked ravine near the ill-defined trail. We hastened to its
margin, but no sight or sound that came to our senses gave us the
slightest clue to the manner of his transformation or disappearance. His
abiding place may have been either in Avernus or down the ravine, for,
although possibly not dark enough, the latter was certainly hot enough
that day for the former in climate.
Noah and I had been so much delayed that we hastened on our course
walking side by side, overtaking our wagons before they reached the
valley of the North Platte near Brown's ranch, where we camped. We were
there informed that our teams, which were much fagged, had traveled
forty miles during the day. The rifle shots that we heard had been
directed at jack rabbits.
On our side trip I suffered not so much from fatigue as from an acute
headache, which developed toward the close of the day as a result of the
intense heat and of the miserable food we had eaten. Fred had brought
with him a few simple drugs from a store in which he was interested at
home. Among them was tincture of camphor. He administered a dose of the
stuff, which immediately caused all the mechanism of my stomach to
assert its rights in the most vehement manner. It expelled everything
except the camphor, which, being no longer held in solution, solidified
into a chunk. At times it rose into my throat for an instant and then
gradually settled down again to resume its activities. The stomach being
unable to expel the camphor gum then endeavored to expel itself in its
entirety, but as the organ was fastened down in some mysterious fashion,
it could only turn itself wrong side out and twist itself in the most
unsatisfactory manner. The remainder of the drug supply was then placed
at my disposal, but I declined longer to permit my stomach to be used as
a chemical laboratory in which to test drugs of unknown qualities. Not
until the solidified gum had been expelled was there any domestic peace.
[Illustration: SCOTT'S BLUFF, SHOWING DOME ROCK IN THE DISTANCE]
Near the course that we had followed to this camp is the battle field
where in 1855 General William S. Harney slaughtered the Brule Sioux
Indians in a terrific fight in which 500 savages are said to have
perished at what is known as Ash Hollow. Harney had served in the
Black Hawk war and also in our war with Mexico.
On the following day we passed Chimney Rock, visible for a great
distance and a striking feature of the landscape. It is about 260 feet
in height. Captain Howard Stansbury, an early traveler wrote of it:
"This singular formation has been undoubtedly at one time a projecting
shoulder of the main chain of bluffs bounding the valley of the Platte
and has been separated from it by the action of water. That the shaft
has been very much higher than at present is evident from the
corresponding formation of the bluff, as well as from the testimony of
all our voyagers, for whom it was for years a beacon visible for forty
or fifty miles both up and down the river."
It was the opinion of Mr. James Bridger that this eminence had been
reduced to its present height by lightning or some other energy of
nature, from the change he observed in it on his return from one of his
trips to St. Louis, for when he had passed it on his way down, it was
uninjured.
After still another long day's drive up the valley of the swift flowing
North Platte, through patches of stunted sage brush and grease wood, we
paused for the night. The terraced height of Scott's Bluffs loomed in
the distance. Almost behind them, the glowing sun sank beneath the
sharply defined horizon, and the shadows of night brought welcome relief
after another day of intense heat.