A TOUGH TIME.
General Carr soon received orders from General Sheridan that he was to
make a winter's campaign in the Canadian river country, and that we were
to proceed to Fort Lyon, on the Arkansas river, in Colorado, and there
fit out for the expedition. Leaving Fort Wallace in November, 1868, we
arrived at Fort Lyon in the latter part of the month, and outfitted for
the coming expedition.
General Penrose had left this post three weeks previously with a command
of some three hundred men. He had taken no wagons with him and his supply
train was composed only of pack mules. General Carr was ordered to follow
with supplies on his trail and overtake him as soon as possible. I was
particularly anxious to catch up with Penrose's command, as my old
friend Wild Bill was among his scouts. We followed the trail very easily
for the first three days, and then we were caught in Freeze-Out canyon by
a fearful snow storm, which compelled us to go into camp for a day. The
ground now being covered with snow, we found that it would be almost
impossible to follow Penrose's trail any further, especially as he had
left no sign to indicate the direction he was going. General Carr sent
for me and said that as it was very important that we should not lose the
trail, he wished that I would take some scouts with me, and while the
command remained in camp, push on as far as possible and see if I could
not discover some traces of Penrose or where he had camped at any time.
[Illustration: CAMPING IN THE SNOW.]
Accompanied by four men I started out in the blinding snow storm, taking
a southerly direction. We rode twenty-four miles, and upon reaching a
tributary of the Cimarron, we scouted up and down the stream for a few
miles and finally found one of Penrose's old camps. It was now late in
the afternoon, and as the command would come up the next day, it was not
necessary for all of us to return with the information to General Carr.
So riding down into a sheltered place in a bend of the creek, we built a
fire and broiled some venison from a deer which we had shot during the
day, and after eating a substantial meal, I left the four men there,
while I returned to bring up the troops.
It was eleven o'clock at night when I got back to the camp. A light was
still burning in the General's tent, he having remained awake, anxiously
awaiting my return. He was glad to see me, and was overjoyed at the
information I brought, for he had great fears concerning the safety of
General Penrose. He roused up his cook and ordered him to get me a good
hot supper, all of which I greatly appreciated. I passed the night in the
General's tent, and next morning rose refreshed and prepared for a big
day's work.
The command took up its march next day for the Cimarron, and had a hard
tramp of it on account of the snow having drifted to a great depth in
many of the ravines, and in some places the teamsters had to shovel their
way through. We arrived at the Cimarron at sundown, and went into a nice
warm camp. Upon looking around next morning, we found that Penrose,
having been unencumbered by wagons, had kept on the west side of the
Cimarron, and the country was so rough that it was impossible for us to
stay on his trail with our wagons; but knowing that he would certainly
follow down the river, General Carr concluded to take the best wagon
route along the stream, which I discovered to be on the east side. Before
we could make any headway with our wagon train we had to leave the river
and get out on the divide. We were very fortunate that day in finding a
splendid road for some distance, until we were all at once brought up
standing on a high table-land, overlooking a beautiful winding creek that
lay far below us in the valley. The question that troubled us, was, how
we were to get the wagons down. We were now in the foot-hills of the
Rattoon Mountains, and the bluff we were on was very steep.
"Cody, we're in a nice fix now," said General Carr.
"Oh, that's nothing," was my reply.
"But you can never take the train down," said he.
"Never you mind the train, General. You say you are looking for a good
camp. How does that beautiful spot down in the valley suit you?" I
asked him.
"That will do. I can easily descend with the cavalry, but how to get the
wagons down there is a puzzler to me," said he.
"By the time you've located your camp, your wagons shall be
there," said I.
"All right, Cody, I'll leave it to you, as you seem to want to be boss,"
replied he pleasantly. He at once ordered the command to dismount and
lead the horses down the mountain-side. The wagon train was a mile in the
rear, and when it came up, one of the drivers asked: "How are we going
down there?"
"Run down, slide down or fall down--any way to get down," said I.
"We never can do it; it's too steep; the wagons will run over the mules,"
said another wagon-master.
"I guess not; the mules have got to keep out of the way," was my reply.
Telling Wilson, the chief wagon-master, to bring on his mess-wagon, which
was at the head of the train, I said I would try the experiment at least.
Wilson drove the team and wagon to the brink of the hill, and following
my directions he brought out some extra chains with which we locked both
wheels on each side, and then rough-locked them. We then started the
wagon down the hill. The wheel-horses--or rather the wheel-mules--were
good on the hold-back, and we got along finely until we nearly reached
the bottom, when the wagon crowded the mules so hard that they started on
a run and galloped down into the valley and to the place where General
Carr had located his camp. Three other wagons immediately followed in the
same way, and in half an hour every wagon was in camp, without the least
accident having occurred. It was indeed an exciting sight to see the
six-mule teams come straight down the mountain and finally break into a
full run. At times it looked as if the wagons would turn a somersault and
land on the mules.
This proved to be a lucky march for us as far as gaining on Penrose was
concerned, for the route he had taken on the west side of the stream
turned out to be a bad one, and we went with our immense wagon train as
far in one day as Penrose had in seven. His command had marched on to a
plateau or high table-land so steep, that not even a pack mule could
descend it, and he was obliged to retrace his steps a long ways, thus
losing three days time as we afterwards learned.
While in this camp we had a lively turkey hunt. The trees along the
banks of the stream were literally alive with wild turkeys, and after
unsaddling the horses between two and three hundred soldiers surrounded a
grove of timber and had a grand turkey round-up, killing four or five
hundred of the birds, with guns, clubs and stones. Of course, we had
turkey in every style after this hunt--roast turkey, boiled turkey, fried
turkey, "turkey on toast," and so on; and we appropriately called this
place Camp Turkey.
From this point on, for several days, we had no trouble in following
Penrose's trail, which led us in a southeasterly direction towards the
Canadian River. No Indians were seen, nor any signs of them found. One
day, while riding in advance of the command, down San Francisco Creek, I
heard some one calling my name from a little bunch of willow brush on the
opposite bank, and, upon looking closely at the spot, I saw a negro.
"Sakes alive! Massa Bill, am dat you?" asked the man, whom I recognized
as one of the colored soldiers of the Tenth Cavalry. I next heard him say
to some one in the brush: "Come out o' heah. Dar's Massa Buffalo Bill."
Then he sang out, "Massa Bill, is you got any hawd tack?"
"Nary a hard tack; but the wagons will be along presently, and then you
can get all you want," said I.
"Dat's de best news I'se heerd foah sixteen long days, Massa Bill," said
he. "Where's your command? Where's General Penrose?" I asked.
"I dunno," said the darkey; "we got lost, and we's been a starvin'
eber since."
By this time two other negroes had emerged from their place of
concealment. They had deserted Penrose's command--which was out of
rations and nearly in a starving condition--and were trying to make their
way back to Fort Lyon. General Carr concluded, from what they could tell
him, that General Penrose was somewhere on Polladora Creek; but we could
not learn anything definite from the starved "mokes," for they knew not
where they were themselves.
Having learned that General Penrose's troops were in such bad shape,
General Carr ordered Major Brown to start out the next morning with two
companies of cavalry and fifty pack-mules loaded with provisions, and to
make all possible speed to reach and relieve the suffering soldiers. I
accompanied this detachment, and on the third day out we found the
half-famished soldiers camped on the Polladora. The camp presented a
pitiful sight, indeed. For over two weeks the men had had only quarter
rations, and were now nearly starved to death. Over two hundred horses
and mules were lying dead, having died from fatigue and starvation.
General Penrose, having feared that General Carr would not find him, had
sent back a company of the Seventh Cavalry to Fort Lyon for supplies; but
no word as yet had been heard from them. The rations which Major Brown
brought to the command came none too soon, and were the means of saving
many a life.
[Illustration: A WELCOME VISITOR]
About the first man I saw after reaching the camp was my old, true and
tried friend, Wild Bill. That night we had a jolly reunion around the
camp-fires.
General Carr, upon arriving with his force, took command of all the
troops, he being the senior officer and ranking General Penrose. After
selecting a good camp, he unloaded the wagons and sent them back to Fort
Lyon for fresh supplies. He then picked out five hundred of the best men
and horses, and, taking his pack-train with him, he started south for the
Canadian River, distant about forty miles, leaving the rest of the troops
at the supply camp.
I was ordered to accompany this expedition. We struck the south fork of
the Canadian River, or Rio Colorado, at a point a few miles above the old
_adobe_ walls, which at one time had composed a fort, and was the place
where Kit Carson once had a big Indian fight. We were now within twelve
miles of a new supply dépôt, called Camp Evans, which had been
established for the Third Cavalry and Evans's Expedition from New Mexico.
The scouts who had brought in this information also reported that they
expected the arrival at Camp Evans of a bull-train from New Mexico with
a large quantity of beer for the soldiers. This news was "pie" for Wild
Bill and myself, and we determined to lie low for that beer outfit. That
very evening it came along, and the beer that was destined for the
soldiers at Camp Evans never reached its destination. It went straight
down the thirsty throats of General Carr's command. It appears that the
Mexicans living near Fort Union had manufactured the beer, and were
taking it through to Camp Evans to sell to the troops, but it struck a
lively market without going so far. It was sold to our boys in pint cups,
and as the weather was very cold we warmed the beer by putting the ends
of our picket-pins heated red-hot into the cups. The result was one of
the biggest beer jollifications I ever had the misfortune to attend.
One evening General Carr summoned me to his tent, and said he wished to
send some scouts with dispatches to Camp Supply, which were to be
forwarded from there to Sheridan. He ordered me to call the scouts
together at once at his headquarters, and select the men who were to go.
I asked him if I should not go myself, but he replied that he wished me
to remain with the command, as he could not spare me. The distance to
Camp Supply was about two hundred miles, and owing to the very cold
weather it was anything but a pleasant trip. Consequently none of the
scouts were anxious to undertake it. It was finally settled, however,
that Wild Bill, a half-breed called Little Geary, and three other scouts
should carry the dispatches, and they accordingly took their departure
next day, with instructions to return to the command as soon as possible.
For several days we scouted along the Canadian River, but found no signs
of Indians. General Carr then went back to his camp, and soon afterwards
our wagon train came in from Fort Lyon with a fresh load of provisions.
Our animals being in poor condition, we remained in different camps along
San Francisco Creek and the north fork of the Canadian, until Wild Bill
and his scouts returned from Camp Supply.
Among the scouts of Penrose's command were fifteen Mexicans, and between
them and the American scouts there had existed a feud; when General Carr
took command of the expedition--uniting it with his own--and I was made
chief of all the scouts, this feud grew more intense, and the Mexicans
often threatened to clean us out; but they postponed the undertaking from
time to time, until one day, while we were all at the sutler's store, the
long-expected fight took place, and resulted in the Mexicans getting
severely beaten.
General Carr, upon hearing of the row, sent for Wild Bill and myself, he
having concluded, from the various statements which had been made to
him, that we were the instigators of the affair. But after listening to
what we had to say, he thought that the Mexicans were as much to blame
as we were.
It is not to be denied that Wild Bill and myself had been partaking too
freely of "tanglefoot" that evening; and General Carr said to me: "Cody,
there are plenty of antelopes in the country, and you can do some hunting
for the camp while we stay here."
"All right, General, I'll do it."
After that I put in my time hunting, and with splendid success, killing
from fifteen to twenty antelopes a day, which kept the men well supplied
with fresh meat.
At length, our horses and mules having become sufficiently recruited to
travel, we returned to Fort Lyon, arriving there in March, 1869, where
the command was to rest and recruit for thirty days, before proceeding to
the Department of the Platte, whither it had been ordered.