ARRIVAL OF CAVALRY ON THE ELKHORN--A DEER HUNT--WHAT THE
SCOUTS SAW--THE STORY OF THE TWO LITTLE GIRLS--THE DEAD
AND WOUNDED--MEN HIDDEN IN THE BRUSH--AN INDIAN
LEGEND--ARRIVAL OF THE INFANTRY--THE DEER HUNT IN THE
MORNING--DEATH OF THE DEER
JUST as the sun appeared above the top of the Twin Mounds, Joe, who
could not keep quiet when among the timber or on the prairie, was
scouting around on his own hook, while the remainder of the party was
lying on the grass eating the cold breakfast they had brought from
Errolstrath. Suddenly he rushed down to them, and yelled at the top of
his voice:--
"The cavalry are coming! I saw the gleam of their carbines on the ridge
about a mile away toward the trail to Fort Harker."
Every man was on his feet in an instant; and sure enough, in a few
minutes they heard the clanging of sabres and the sound of the hoofs of
approaching horses. Presently a fine-looking set of men wearing the
fatigue uniform of the United States Cavalry, splendidly mounted on
sleek bay animals, swung around the point of timber where Captain Tucker
and his scouts from the Oxhide valley were standing. The trumpeter
sounded the "Halt," and in another moment the horses, in obedience to
the signal, stood still as if petrified, while the commander of the
troop, Colonel Keogh, of Custer's famous regiment, rode forward and
talked with Captain Tucker, whom he had at once recognized as the leader
of the scouts.
They conversed for some moments, each giving the other what information
he had of the movements of the Indians. Then the Colonel told Captain
Tucker that his orders were to camp on the Elkhorn with his company, and
scout through the valley, protecting the settlers. He said that a
detachment of infantry was also ordered to the creek, and was to remain
there, while he with his mounted men would move from point to point, and
thus prevent the savages from making another raid in that part of the
country. He thanked Captain Tucker for the promptness with which he and
his neighbors had responded to the appeal of Alderdyce. He said that
now the cavalry were there the men might go home feeling assured that no
more attacks were to be feared from the Indians, and that General
Sheridan would soon have enough soldiers under his command to whip
thoroughly the allied tribes, and force them to a peace which they would
be glad to keep.
Captain Tucker told the Colonel how bright Joe was in relation to Indian
affairs, and what a great hunter he had already become. After Colonel
Keogh had himself conversed with Joe, he took a great fancy to him. He
told him that he was going on a deer hunt just as soon as he was settled
in camp, and the infantry had arrived, and he invited Joe to be one of
the party.
Joe thanked the Colonel, and spoke modestly of the compliments which had
been paid him by Captain Tucker. He promised that he would certainly go
on the hunt with him, and be delighted to do so.
He spoke up boldly: "When do you expect to go, Colonel? I know there are
lots of red deer and elk, too, on the Elkhorn, and this is a good time
to find them; I've been here with the Pawnees often."
The Colonel said: "The infantry, in all probability, will reach the
creek some time this evening, as they were getting ready for the march
when I left Fort Harker with my troop. Suppose, Joe, we say the day
after to-morrow? You can remain here with me; I have buffalo robes, and
you shall have a bed in my tent. So go and ask your father at once and
come back to me as quick as you can and report his answer. You'll find
me somewhere about the camp. My tent is not yet put up, but you will
know it when it is, by its similarity to an Indian tepee. It is called a
'Sibley,' and was patterned after the Sioux lodge by its inventor, an
officer of the army of that name."
Joe, wild with delight, ran off to find his father, to whom he told of
the invitation, and finding that no objections were made, thanked him
for his permission to remain.
Captain Tucker had informed the Colonel that as his men and animals were
sufficiently rested, and the horses filled with the rich grass, he
intended to go to the scene of the massacre with Alderdyce, to find
whether any of the settlers were hiding and not daring to show
themselves, or if any of the wounded were still living. Should he find
any of the latter, he would return by way of Fort Harker and notify the
commanding officer, so that he might send an ambulance for them and
medical assistance.
Telling his men of his intentions, they immediately brought in their
horses and saddled them. They then mounted, and rode slowly west toward
Spillman Creek, which was about seven or eight miles from the Elkhorn.
Joe, of course, went with them, as they wanted him to find out which way
the Indians had gone after committing their devilish deeds. He intended
to leave the party at the ford of the Elkhorn on its return, and to join
Colonel Keogh.
In about two hours the party arrived at the mouth of Spillman Creek, and
the first evidence of the acts of the savages confronted the men. Riding
up to a small cabin which the Indians had not consigned to the torch, no
doubt having missed it on their fiendish rounds, they discovered two
little girls crouched in one of its dark corners. One of them was only
six years old, and her sister but eight. They were very bright for
their age, and told a wonderfully sad story of their escape from the
Indians. They said that a big band of savages rode up to their home very
early in the morning; that their father and mother were not yet out of
bed. The Indians killed both of them, and after setting the house on
fire, threw the children on their ponies and rode off. Coming to the top
of a high hill, they saw a company of soldiers in the distance, and they
then dropped them on the prairie and hurried away as fast as their
ponies could run. The girls were not hurt at all. They wandered on,
frightened nearly to death, and seeing the cabin down in the valley,
they went to it and slept there all night. They had waked very early in
the morning, and on going out of doors, saw the wild grapes growing on
the vines at the creek; they ate some for their breakfast, but soon
hearing the sound of horses' hoofs, and thinking the Indians were coming
to look for them, they crawled back into the corner where the scouts had
found them.
Captain Tucker and the rest of the scouts were in a dilemma at first
when they found themselves with the two little orphaned children on
their hands; and they did not know exactly what to do. But soon Joe's
excellent judgment manifested itself. He proposed that one of the men
should be sent back to Colonel Keogh's camp to tell him of their
discovery, and ask him to send his ambulance out to take the children to
Fort Harker, where they would be cared for by the kind ladies of the
post.
The suggestion was acted upon at once. Every man volunteered to go, so
it was left to the Captain to select one. This he did, started him off,
and left Mr. Thompson to stay with the little girls until the arrival of
the ambulance. He and the others of the party then rode up on the valley
of Spillman Creek, as the savages appeared to have confined their
atrocities to that narrow region.
As they were riding close to the bank of the stream, about three miles
from where they had found the two girls, they saw a wagon with the
horses still attached. As they came up to it for a closer examination,
two men, both of whom were known to Alderdyce, came out of the
underbrush.
They had a story to tell, too. Early in the morning they were on their
way to examine a claim on the Spillman, when they perceived at only a
short distance from them, what appeared to be a body of soldiers. They
were all dressed in blue blouses, and were marching four abreast just as
the cavalry do. The men stopped for a moment to get a closer view as
they rode up the divide, when to their horror they discovered the
supposed soldiers to be a band of Indians. They turned their team about,
and made for the nearest timber on the creek and hid themselves. Next
morning they still decided to remain in ambush until they saw some white
people. They had plenty of food with them, so they had remained until
they were discovered by Captain Tucker's scouts. Learning that all was
safe, they climbed into their wagon, whipped up the team, and drove
away. Presently the scouts came to the remains of a cabin, partly
destroyed by fire, where they discovered the dead bodies of a man and
woman, probably husband and wife. These they decently buried and rode
on.
They next found the body of a young man, dead in his field, where he had
evidently been at work when the savages surprised him. He was murdered
with his own hatchet, which was found by his side, his face having been
chopped until it was not recognizable. His body was interred too.
It is useless to relate all that the scouts saw on their mission of
discovery up the Spillman. In all, thirty bodies were found, and some
dozen or more persons who had been wounded and had managed to hide after
the savages had supposed them to be dead. During the next twenty-four
hours these were gathered and taken to the hospital at the fort. Some
recovered, but the majority died.
The party returned to Colonel Keogh's camp, because they had discovered
so much that it was thought best he should know. When they arrived there
they learned that the little girls had been sent to the fort under an
escort of a squad of the troopers, and they also found Mr. Thompson in
the camp waiting for them.
After winding their horses for about half an hour, all returned to
Errolstrath, with the exception of Joe, who remained to go on the
proposed hunt when the infantry arrived.
Colonel Keogh's tent was already pitched, and Joe sat in there with him
discussing the atrocities on Spillman Creek and the deer hunt.
"Colonel," said Joe, "you know that deer have no gall-bladder and the
antelope no dew-claws. Did you ever hear the Indian legend about the
reason?"
"I know the deer have no gall-bladder and the antelope no dew-claws, but
I don't think I have ever heard the reason. What do the Indians say
about it, Joe?"
"Well, old Yellow Calf, the chief of the band of Pawnees which has
camped on our creek ever since we have lived there, told me that a long
time ago a deer and an antelope met on the prairie near the Great Bend
of the Arkansas. At that time both animals had a gall and dew-claws.
They fell to talking together and bragging how fast each could run. The
deer claimed that he could outstrip the antelope, and the antelope that
he could beat the deer. They got awfully mad at each other, and finally
determined they would try their speed. The stakes were their galls, and
the trial was made on the open prairie. The antelope beat the deer and
took the deer's gall. The deer felt very unhappy at his defeat, and he
became so miserable over it, that the antelope felt sorry for him, and
to cheer him up took off both his dew-claws and gave them to the deer.
Ever since then the deer has had no gall-bladder, and the antelope no
dew-claws.
"I met some Kaws once, and I told them what the Pawnees had told me
about it, and the chief of that band said the story the Pawnees had told
was only partly correct. The Kaw chief's version was that after the
antelope had won the race, the deer said to him, 'You have won, but that
race was not fair, for it was over the prairie. We ought to try again in
the woods to decide which of us is really the faster.' So the antelope
agreed to run the second race, and on it they bet their dew-claws. The
deer beat the antelope that time, because he could run faster than the
antelope through the timber, over the fallen trunks of trees, and in the
thick underbrush, and he took the antelope's dew-claws."
"Well, Joe, that is a very funny story; I never heard it before." Then,
looking out of the front of his tent, the Colonel turned to Joe, and
said, "There comes the company of infantry, so we may go on our hunt
to-morrow."
Joe ran out and watched the infantry as they filed into the timber. It
was after sundown, but far from dark. The men were soon settled in their
tents, their camp-kettles bubbling over the fires, and preparations in
full swing for their evening meal.
Joe wandered among the troops and soon picked up an acquaintance with
them. They admired his Indian suit, and earnestly listened to the tale
of his adventures with the Pawnees. Presently he was called by the
Colonel's orderly to come to supper. He went back to the Sibley tent,
where he sat down at the table with Colonel Keogh and his two
lieutenants.
Their simple table was improvised out of the end gates of two of the
wagons, and the cook, a colored soldier, had managed to provide an
excellent meal, and as Joe was very hungry, he did ample justice to it.
When the trumpets and the bugles sounded the retreat, Joe went out with
the Colonel, who inspected the men to see that everything was in good
order for the night. They then returned to their canvas quarters, where
the Colonel smoked his pipe, and again discussed to-morrow's hunt with
the boy.
They were to make a very early start in the morning, so, as soon as
"taps" had sounded, which meant that all lights must be put out and the
soldiers retire to their tents, the Colonel suggested to Joe that he had
better go to bed, while he would sit up a while and write out his report
to the commander at Fort Harker. Calling in the orderly, the Colonel
told him to fix up a sleeping-place for the boy. The man spread four
heavy buffalo robes on the floor of the tent, and putting two blankets
on top, the bed was ready for Joe, who tumbled into it and was soon fast
asleep.
When the trumpeter sounded the reveille, at the first streak of dawn the
next morning, the Colonel, who had already risen, called Joe, who
bounded out of his soft bed like a cat. Breakfast was ready in a few
moments, and after he and the Colonel had eaten, and the latter had
given his orders to the officer who was to command the camp during his
absence, Joe and he started out on foot for the hunt.
The night had been cold, and although it was the middle of May, the
white rime of the late frost covered the earth. It was a good omen, as
the sharp footprints of the animals could be more easily distinguished.
Carefully examining their rifles and cartridges as they walked briskly
on, they soon struck the main branch of the Elkhorn, and continued along
its margin in a southerly direction for a mile or more, when they came
to a little opening.
There Joe suddenly stopped, and turning to Colonel Keogh, who had on the
instant also halted, said, "Doesn't that look a little deerish,
Colonel?"
The Colonel, though a good shot and hunter, could distinguish nothing
out of the ordinary after scrutinizing the ground to which the boy had
pointed. The earth looked the same everywhere in the Colonel's eyes.
"Here!" said Joe, as, noticing the bewildered appearance of his new
friend, he turned over a fallen cottonwood leaf with his foot. There the
Colonel saw, after carefully stooping down, the very faint impress of a
hoof.
"Is that a fresh track, Joe?" he asked.
"You may be sure it is," replied Joe, "and only about an hour old!"
"Well, I want _that_ deer," said Colonel Keogh, enthusiastically. He
rose from a stump on which he had been sitting for a few moments, with
his rifle across his knees, and started quickly for a little patch of
box-elder not a hundred yards distant.
"Hold on, Colonel!" said Joe, cautiously; "the deer isn't there now.
Don't you see his hoof-marks point the other way? Look, here's where
he's nibbled the grass," pointing with his rifle to a strip of
bunch-grass in the opposite direction from the box-elders. "Let's go on,
Colonel; deer don't stay long in one spot so early in the day, and if we
don't get a move on us, it may be hours before we can get a shot at
'em."
They trudged on for about a mile and a half, walking side by side, the
Colonel telling the boy some of his experiences in the war of the
Rebellion. Suddenly Joe, touching the Colonel's shoulder, said, "Hark!"
in a hoarse whisper, at the same instant elevating his head like a
stag-hound that has just winded game. In another minute they heard a
rustling as though something were stepping on dead leaves.
"There's a buck deer in there, and a big one, too," said Joe, in a
whisper, as he pointed to a bunch of upland willows whose slender tops
were oscillating slowly as if disturbed by a gentle breeze, though there
was not a breath of wind blowing. "He's probably got a half dozen or
more does around him, and if we are mighty careful, we may both get a
shot."
The willow copse was on the top of a little knoll, and the ground was
smooth on the side of it where the Colonel and Joe stood. Here and there
at intervals were great trees, but without any underbrush to snap under
their feet as they quietly trod over the soft, black soil.
At Joe's suggestion, he and the Colonel separated, widening the distance
between them to about twenty paces, Colonel Keogh on the right of Joe.
They crept on as silently as savages on the trail of an enemy, and soon
arrived at the base of the elevation, which was only some fifty yards to
its crest. There they noticed that the dark earth had been cut up in
every direction by the sharp, delicate foot-marks of the creatures
supposed to be in front of them. A significant glance rapidly passed
from one to the other as they drew nearer their quarry.
At that juncture, just as they reached the edge of the copse, each
masked himself behind a good-sized cottonwood, which seemed to have
grown where it did for their especial use. The Colonel in his enthusiasm
could not repress the remark in a whisper to Joe:--
"Look there, Joe. There's a dozen deer!"
Sure enough, right in front of them were a dozen fat does lying down
ruminating their morning meal. The old buck, the guardian of the whole
herd, was standing up as if watching over his charge, and stamping the
ground with his sharp hoofs to drive off the buffalo gnats that swarmed
thickly around him.
In another instant, at a signal previously agreed upon, a low whistle
from the Colonel, the rifles of the hunters were discharged
simultaneously, and all but two of the terribly frightened animals
bounded off through the timber.
Before the echoes of the pieces had died away, Joe was among the
struggling deer with his hunting-knife, cutting their throats while
they were yet in their death throes. The stately buck had been the
Colonel's game, and he asked Joe to take its head to the ranche so that
the Pawnees, when they arrived in the autumn, could preserve it with its
magnificent set of antlers, which he desired to keep as a trophy of
their hunt.
It was but a little more than two miles to camp, and they did not have
to wait more than an hour for a wagon to arrive, as the driver had been
told by the Colonel to start the moment the sharp double report of the
rifles reached his ears. The dead animals were soon loaded into it, and
the proud hunters walked leisurely alongside of it, back to camp,
arriving there before eleven o'clock.
The deer were skinned by Joe. The meat was cut up into saddles and
haunches, and hung on the limb of a great tree, to secure it from the
prowling wolves, who already scented blood and began to make their
appearance on the bluffs, so keen is the nose of that vicious and
cowardly brute. The Colonel had brought with him from the fort, half a
dozen hounds, among them some of General Custer's celebrated animals,
but they were left tied up in camp that morning, as the Colonel had
decided to make a still hunt the first day, and to chase with the dogs
the next.
That evening, just as all were about to roll themselves up in their
blankets, a scout arrived from Fort Harker with the intelligence that
the Cheyennes and the Kiowas, under the leadership of the bloodthirsty
Sa-tan-ta, the notorious war-chief, had made a raid upon the settlements
near Council Grove, and Custer was leaving at once for the field with
his regiment. As Colonel Keogh's company was part of it, he must return
to Fort Harker immediately, and another detachment of colored infantry
were on their way to take its place on the Elkhorn.
All was bustle in a few moments. Tents were struck, and in less than an
hour the cavalry command was on its way, Joe riding at the head of the
column with the Colonel.
They arrived at Fort Harker long before daylight, and Joe bade the
Colonel good by and rode on to Errolstrath, where he pulled up his pony
just as his father and Rob were coming out of the house to go to the
spring to wash themselves.
The boy was gladly welcomed back by all the family, and they sat at the
table for more than an hour after they finished eating their breakfast,
listening to Joe's experiences at the scene of the massacre, and his
hunt with Colonel Keogh.