ADMINISTERING JUSTICE.
On returning to Fort McPherson we found that Brevet Major General W.H.
Emory, Colonel of the Fifth Cavalry, and Brevet Brigadier General Thomas
Duncan, Lieutenant Colonel of the regiment, had arrived there during our
absence. General Emory had been appointed to the command of the District
of the Republican, with headquarters at Fort McPherson. As the command
had been continually in the field, it was generally thought that we were
to have a long rest; and it looked as if this post was to be my home and
headquarters for some time to come. I accordingly sent to St. Louis for
my wife and daughter to join me there. General Emory promised to build a
house for me, but before the building was completed my family arrived.
During the fall of 1869 there were two or three scouting expeditions
sent out; but nothing of very great importance was accomplished by them.
I found Fort McPherson to be a lively and pleasant post to be stationed
at, especially as there was plenty of game in the vicinity, and within a
day's ride there were large herds of deer, antelope and elk.
During the winter of 1869-70 I spent a great deal of time in pursuit of
game, and during the season we had two hunting parties of Englishmen
there; one party being that of Mr. Flynn, and the other that of George
Boyd Houghton, of London--the well known caricaturist. Among their
amusements were several horse races, which I arranged, and in which Tall
Bull and Powder Face were invariably the winners. Tall Bull by this time
had such a reputation as a running horse, that it was difficult to make a
race for him. I remember one however, in which he ran against a horse in
Captain Spaulding's Company of the Second Cavalry.
This race was rather a novel affair. I had made a bet that Tall Bull
would beat the Second Cavalry horse around a one mile track, and, during
the time that he was running, I would jump off and on the horse eight
times. I rode the horse bareback; seized his mane with my left hand,
rested my right on his withers, and while he was going at full speed, I
jumped to the ground, and sprang again upon his back, eight times in
succession. Such feats I had seen performed in the circus and I had
practiced considerably at it with Tall Bull, so that I was certain of
winning the race in the manner agreed upon.
Early one morning, in the spring of 1870, the Indians, who had
approached during the night, stole some twenty-one head of horses from
Mr. John Burke--a Government contractor--Ben. Gallagher and Jack Waite.
They also ran off some horses from the post; among the number being my
pony Powder Face. The commandant at once ordered out Lieutenant Thomas
with Company I of the Fifth Cavalry, and directed me to accompany them as
trailer. We discovered the trail after some little difficulty, as the
Indians were continually trying to hide it, and followed it sixty miles,
when darkness set in.
We were now within about four miles of Red Willow Creek and I felt
confident the Indians would camp that night in that vicinity. Advising
Lieutenant Thomas to halt his company and "lay low" I proceeded on to the
creek, where, moving around cautiously, I suddenly discovered horses
feeding in a bend of the stream on the opposite side. I hurried back to
the troops with the information, and Lieutenant Thomas moved his company
to the bank of the creek, with the intention of remaining there until
daylight, and then, if possible, surprise the Indians.
Just at break of day we mounted our horses, and after riding a short
distance we ascended a slight elevation, when, not over one hundred yards
distant, we looked down into the Indian camp. The Indians, preparing to
make an early start, had driven up their horses and were in the act of
mounting, when they saw us charging down upon them. In a moment they
sprang upon their ponies and dashed away. Had it not been for the creek,
which lay between us and them, we would have got them before they could
have mounted their horses; but as it was rather miry, we were
unexpectedly delayed. The Indians fired some shots at us while we were
crossing, but as soon as we got across we went for them in hot pursuit. A
few of the red-skins had not had time to mount and had started on foot
down the creek toward the brush. One of these was killed.
A number of our soldiers, who had been detailed before the charge to
gather up any of the Indian horses that would be stampeded, succeeded in
capturing thirty-two. I hurriedly looked over them to see if Powder Face
was among them; but he was not there. Starting in pursuit of the
fugitives I finally espied an Indian mounted on my favorite, dashing away
and leading all the others. We continued the chase for two or three
miles, overtaking a couple who were mounted upon one horse. Coming up
behind them I fired my rifle, when about thirty feet distant; the ball
passed through the backs of both, and they fell headlong to the ground;
but I made no stop however just then, for I had my eye on the gentleman
who was riding Powder Face. It seemed to be fun for him to run away from
us, and run away he did, for the last I saw of him was when he went over
a divide, about three miles away. I bade him adieu. On my way back to the
Indian camp I stopped and secured the war bonnets and accoutrements of
the pair I had killed, and at the same time gently "raised their hair."
We were feeling rather tired and hungry, as we had started out on the
trail thirty-six hours before without a breakfast or taking any food with
us; but not a murmur or complaint was heard among the men. In the
abandoned Indian camp, however, we found enough dried buffalo meat to
give us all a meal, and after remaining there for two hours, to rest our
animals, we started on our return to Fort McPherson, where we arrived at
night, having traveled 130 miles in two days.
This being the first fight Lieutenant Thomas had ever commanded in, he
felt highly elated over his success, and hoped that his name would be
mentioned in the special orders for gallantry; sure enough when we
returned both he, myself and the whole command received a complimentary
mention in a special order. This he certainly deserved for he was a
brave, energetic, dashing little officer. The war bonnets which I had
captured I turned over to General Carr, with the request that he
present them to General Augur, whose daughters were visiting at the
post at the time.
Shortly after this, another expedition was organized at Fort McPherson
for the Republican river country. It was commanded by General Duncan, who
was a jolly, blustering old fellow, and the officers who knew him well,
said that we would have a good time, as he was very fond of hunting. He
was a good fighter, and one of the officers said that an Indian bullet
never could hurt him, as he had been shot in the head with a cannon ball
which had not injured him in the least; another said the ball glanced off
and killed one of the toughest mules in the army.
The Pawnee scouts who had been mustered out of service, during the winter
of 1869 and '70, were reorganized to accompany this expedition. I was
glad of this, as I had become quite attached to one of the officers,
Major North, and to many of the Indians. The only white scout we had at
the post, besides myself at that time, was John Y. Nelson, whose Indian
name was Cha-Sha-Cha-Opoyeo,[C] which interpreted means
Red-Willow-Fill-the-Pipe. This man is a character in his way; he has a
Sioux squaw for a wife, and consequently a half-breed family. John is a
good fellow, though as a liar he has but few equals and no superior.
[Footnote C: Since traveled with me in my Dramatic Combination as
interpreter for Sioux Indians.]
We started out from the post with the regimental band playing the lively
air of "The Girl I Left Behind Me." We made but a short march that day,
and camped at night at the head of Fox Creek. Next morning General Duncan
sent me word by his orderly that I was to bring up my gun and shoot at a
mark with him; but I can assure the reader that I did not feel much like
shooting anything except myself, for on the night before, I had returned
to Fort McPherson and spent several hours in interviewing the sutler's
store, in Company with Major Brown. I looked around for my gun, and
found that I had left it behind. The last I could remember about it was
that I had it at the sutler's store. I informed Major Brown of my loss,
who said that I was a nice scout to start out without a gun. I replied
that that was not the worst of it, as General Duncan had sent for me to
shoot a match with him, and I did not know what to do; for if the old
gentleman discovered my predicament, he would very likely severely
reprimand me.
"Well, Cody," said he, "the best you can do is to make some excuse, and
then go and borrow a gun from some of the men, and tell the General that
you lent yours to some man to go hunting with to-day. While we are
waiting here, I will send back to the post and get your rifle for you."
I succeeded in obtaining a gun from John Nelson, and then marching up to
the General's headquarters I shot the desired match with him, which
resulted in his favor.
This was the first scout the Pawnees had been out on under command of
General Duncan, and in stationing his guards around the camp he posted
them in a manner entirely different from that of General Carr and Colonel
Royal, and he insisted that the different posts should call out the hour
of the night thus:
"Post No. 1, nine o'clock, all is well! Post No. 2, nine o'clock, all is
well!" etc.
The Pawnees, who had their regular turns at standing upon guard, were
ordered to call the hour the same as the white soldiers. This was very
difficult for them to do, as there were but few of them who could express
themselves in English. Major North explained to them that when the man on
post next to them should call out the hour, they must call it also as
near like him as possible. It was very amusing to hear them do this. They
would try to remember what the other man had said on the post next to
them. For instance, a white soldier would call out: "Post No. I,
half-past nine o'clock, all is well!" The Indian standing next to him
knew that he was bound to say something in English, and he would sing
out something like the following:
"Poss number half pass five cents--go to ----! I don't care!"
This system was really so ridiculous and amusing that the General had to
give it up, and the order was accordingly countermanded.
Nothing of any great interest occurred on this march, until one day,
while proceeding up Prairie Dog Creek,[D] Major North and myself went out
in advance of the command several miles and killed a number of buffaloes.
Night was approaching, and I began to look around for a suitable camping
ground for the command. Major North dismounted from his horse and was
resting, while I rode down to the stream to see if there was plenty of
grass in the vicinity. I found an excellent camping spot, and returning
to Major North told him that I would ride over the hill a little way, so
that the advance guard could see me. This I did, and when the advance
came in sight I dismounted and laid down upon the grass to rest.
[Footnote D: Near the lonely camp where I had so long been laid up with a
broken leg, when trapping years before with Dave Harrington.]
Suddenly I heard three or four shots, and in a few moments Major North
came dashing up towards me, pursued by eight or ten Indians. I instantly
sprang into my saddle, and fired a few shots at the Indians, who by this
time had all come in sight, to the number of fifty. We turned our horses
and ran, the bullets flying after us thick and fast--my whip being shot
from my hand and daylight being put through the crown of my hat. We were
in close quarters, when suddenly Lieutenant Valkmar came galloping up to
our relief with several soldiers, and the Indians seeing them whirled and
retreated. As soon as Major North got in sight of his Pawnees, he began
riding in a circle. This was a sign to them that there were hostile
Indians in front, and in a moment the Pawnees broke ranks pell-mell and,
with Major North at their head, started for the flying warriors. The rest
of the command pushed rapidly forward also, and chased the enemy for
three or four miles, killing three of them.
But this was a wrong move on our part, as their village was on Prairie
Dog Creek, while they led us in a different direction; one Indian only
kept straight on up the creek--a messenger to the village. Some of the
command, who had followed him, stirred up the village and accelerated its
departure. We finally got back to the main force, and then learned that
we had made a great mistake. Now commenced another stern chase.
The second day that we had been following these Indians we came upon an
old squaw, whom they had left on the prairie to die. Her people had built
for her a little shade or lodge, and had given her some provisions,
sufficient to last her on her trip to the Happy Hunting grounds. This the
Indians often do when pursued by an enemy, and one of their number
becomes too old and feeble to travel any longer. This squaw was
recognized by John Nelson who said that she was a relative of his wife.
From her we learned that the flying Indians were known as Pawnee,
Killer's band, and that they had lately killed Buck's surveying party,
consisting of eight or nine men; the massacre having occurred a few days
before on Beaver Creek. We knew that they had had a fight with surveyors,
as we found quite a number of surveying instruments, which had been left
in the abandoned camp. We drove these Indians across the Platte river and
then returned to Fort McPherson, bringing the old squaw with us, from
there she was sent to the Spotted Tail Agency.
During my absence, my wife had given birth to a son, and he was several
weeks old when I returned. No name had yet been given him and I selected
that of Elmo Judson, in honor of Ned Buntline; but this the officers and
scouts objected to. Major Brown proposed that we should call him Kit
Carson, and it was finally settled that that should be his name.
During the summer we made one or two more scouts and had a few
skirmishes with the Indians: but nothing of any great importance
transpired. In the fall of 1870, while I was a witness in a court
martial at Fort D.A. Russell I woke up one morning and found that I was
dead broke;--this is not an unusual occurrence to a frontiersman, or an
author I may add, especially when he is endeavoring to kill time--to
raise necessary funds I sold my race horse Tall Bull to Lieutenant
Mason, who had long wanted him.
In the winter of 1870 and 1871 I first met George Watts Garland, an
English gentleman, and a great hunter, whom I had the pleasure of guiding
on several hunts and with whom I spent some weeks. During the winter I
also took several parties out on the Loupe River country, hunting and
trapping. Although I was still chief of scouts I did not have much to do,
as the Indians were comparatively quiet, thus giving me plenty of time
for sporting.
In the spring of 1871 several short scouting expeditions were sent out
from Fort McPherson, but all with minor results.
About this time General Emory was considerably annoyed by petty offenses
committed in the vicinity of the post, and as there was no justice of the
peace in the neighborhood, he was anxious to have such an officer there
to attend to the civilians; one day he remarked to me that I would make
an excellent justice.
"General, you compliment me rather too highly, for I don't know any more
about law than a government mule does about book-keeping," said I.
"That doesn't make any difference," said he, "for I know that you will
make a good 'Squire." He accordingly had the county commissioners
appoint me to the office of justice of the peace, and I soon received my
commission.
One morning a man came rushing up to my house and stated that he wanted
to get out a writ of replevin, to recover possession of a horse which a
stranger was taking out of the country. I had no blank forms, and had not
yet received the statutes of Nebraska to copy from, so I asked the man:
"Where is the fellow who has got your horse?"
"He is going up the road, and is about two miles away," replied he.
"Very well," said I, "I will get the writ ready in a minute or two."
I saddled up my horse, and then taking my old reliable gun, "Lucretia," I
said to the man: "That's the best writ of replevin that I can think of;
come along, and we'll get that horse, or know the reason why."
We soon overtook the stranger who was driving a herd of horses, and as we
came up to him, I said:
"Hello, sir; I am an officer, and have an attachment for that horse," and
at the same time I pointed out the animal.
"Well, sir, what are you going to do about it?" he inquired.
"I propose to take you and the horse back to the post," said I.
"You can take the horse," said he, "but I haven't the time to return
with you."
"You'll have to take the time, or pay the costs here and now," said I.
"How much are the costs?"
"Twenty dollars."
"Here's your money," said he, as he handed me the greenbacks.
I then gave him a little friendly advice, and told him that he was
released from custody. He went on his way a wiser and a poorer man, while
the owner of the horse and myself returned to the fort. I pocketed the
twenty dollars, of course. Some people might think it was not a square
way of doing business, but I didn't know any better just then. I had
several little cases of this kind, and I became better posted on law in
the course of time, being assisted by Lieutenant Burr Reilly, of the
Fifth Cavalry, who had been educated for a lawyer.
One evening I was called upon to perform a marriage ceremony. The
bridegroom was one of the sergeants of the post. I had "braced up" for
the occasion by imbibing rather freely of stimulants, and when I arrived
at the house, with a copy of the Statutes of Nebraska, which I had
recently received, I felt somewhat confused. Whether my bewilderment was
owing to the importance of the occasion and the large assembly, or to the
effect of Louis Woodin's "tanglefoot," I cannot now distinctly
remember--but my suspicions have always been that it was due to the
latter cause. I looked carefully through the statutes to find the
marriage ceremony, but my efforts were unsuccessful. Finally the time
came for the knot to be tied. I told the couple to stand up, and then I
said to the bridegroom:
"Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, to support and
love her through life?"
"I do," was the reply.
Then addressing myself to the bride, I said, "Do you take this man to be
your lawful wedded husband through life, to love, honor and obey him?"
[Illustration: A WEDDING CEREMONY.]
"I do," was her response.
"Then join hands," said I to both of them; "I now pronounce you to be man
and wife, and whomsoever God and Buffalo Bill have joined together let no
man put asunder. May you live long and prosper. Amen."
This concluded the interesting ceremony, which was followed by the usual
festivities on such occasions. I was highly complimented for the elegant
and eloquent manner in which I had tied the matrimonial knot.
During the summer of 1871, Professor Marsh, of Yale College, came out to
McPherson, with a large party of students to have a hunt and to look for
fossils. Professor Marsh had heard of the big bone which had been found
by the Pawnees in the Niobrara country, and he intended to look for that
as well as other bones. He accordingly secured the services of Major
Frank North and the Pawnees as an escort. I was also to accompany the
bone-hunters, and would have done so had it not been for the fact that
just at that time I was ordered out with a small scouting party to go
after some Indians.
[Illustration: A RIDE FOR LIFE.]
The day before the Professor arrived at the fort, I had been out hunting
on the north side of the North Platte River, near Pawnee Springs, with
several companions, when we were suddenly attacked by Indians, who
wounded one of our number, John Weister. We stood the Indians off for a
little while, and Weister got even with them by killing one of their
party. The Indians, however, outnumbered us, and at last we were forced
to make a run for our lives. In this we succeeded, and reached the fort
in safety. The General wanted to have the Indians pursued, and said he
could not spare me to accompany Professor Marsh.
However, I had the opportunity to make the acquaintance of the eminent
Professor, whom I found to be not only a well-posted person but a very
entertaining gentleman. He gave me a geological history of the country;
told me in what section fossils were to be found; and otherwise
entertained me with several scientific yarns, some of which seemed too
complicated and too mysterious to be believed by an ordinary man like
myself; but it was all clear to him. I rode out with him several miles,
as he was starting on his bone-hunting expedition, and I greatly enjoyed
the ride. His party had been provided with Government transportation and
his students were all mounted on Government horses.
As we rode along he delivered a scientific lecture, and he convinced me
that he knew what he was talking about. I finally bade him good-bye, and
returned to the post. While the fossil-hunters were out on their
expedition, we had several lively little skirmishes with the Indians.
After having been absent some little time Professor Marsh and his party
came back with their wagons loaded down with all kinds of bones, and the
Professor was in his glory. He had evidently struck a bone-yard, and
"gad!"[E] wasn't he happy! But they had failed to find the big bone which
the Pawnees had unearthed the year before.
[Footnote E: A favorite expression of the Professor's.]