HUNTING EXPEDITION.
Early in the month of September, 1871, information was received at Fort
McPherson that General Sheridan and a party of invited friends were
coming out to the post to have a grand hunt in the vicinity, and to
explore the country from McPherson to Fort Hays, in Kansas. On the
morning of September 22d they arrived in a special car at North Platte, a
station on the Union Pacific, distant eighteen miles from Fort McPherson.
The party consisted of General Sheridan, Lawrence R. Jerome, James Gordon
Bennett, of the _New York Herald_; Leonard W. Jerome, Carroll Livingston,
Major J.G. Hecksher, General Fitzhugh, General H.E. Davies, Captain M.
Edward Rogers, Colonel J. Scuyler Crosby, Samuel Johnson, General Anson
Stager, of the Western Union Telegraph Company; Charles Wilson, editor of
the _Chicago Evening Journal_; General Rucker, Quartermaster-General,
and Dr. Asch--the two last-named being of General Sheridan's staff. They
were met at the station by General Emory and Major Brown, with a cavalry
company as escort and a sufficient number of vehicles to carry the
distinguished visitors and their baggage.
A brisk drive of less than two hours over a hard and smooth road brought
them to the fort, where they found the garrison, consisting of five
companies of the Fifth Cavalry, under the command of General Carr, out
on parade awaiting their arrival. The band played some martial music,
and the cavalry passed very handsomely in review before General
Sheridan. The guests were then most hospitably received, and assigned to
comfortable quarters.
Lieutenant Hayes, the quartermaster of the expedition, arranged
everything for the comfort of the party. One hundred cavalry under
command of Major Brown were detailed as an escort. A train of sixteen
wagons was provided to carry the baggage, supplies, and forage for the
trip; and, besides these, there were three four-horse ambulances in which
the guns were carried, and in which members of the party who became weary
of the saddle might ride and rest. At General Sheridan's request I was to
accompany the expedition; he introduced me to all his friends, and gave
me a good send-off.
During the afternoon and evening the gentlemen were all entertained at
the post in a variety of ways, including dinner and supper parties, and
music and dancing; at a late hour they retired to rest in their tents at
the camp which they occupied outside the post--named Camp Rucker in honor
of General Rucker.
At five o'clock next morning a cavalry bugle sounded the _reveille_, and
soon all were astir in the camp, preparatory to pulling out for the first
day's march. I rose fresh and eager for the trip, and as it was a nobby
and high-toned outfit which I was to accompany, I determined to put on a
little style myself. So I dressed in a new suit of light buckskin,
trimmed along the seams with fringes of the same material; and I put on a
crimson shirt handsomely ornamented on the bosom, while on my head I wore
a broad _sombrero_. Then mounting a snowy white horse--a gallant
stepper--I rode down from the fort to the camp, rifle in hand. I felt
first-rate that morning, and looked well.
The expedition was soon under way. Our road for ten miles wound through a
wooded ravine called Cottonwood Cañon, intersecting the high ground, or
divide, as it is called, between the Platte and Republican Rivers. Upon
emerging from the cañon we found ourselves upon the plains. First in the
line rode General Sheridan, followed by his guests, and then the
orderlies. Then came the ambulances, in one of which were carried five
greyhounds, brought along to course the antelope and rabbit. With the
ambulances marched a pair of Indian ponies belonging to Lieutenant
Hayes--captured during some Indian fight--and harnessed to a light wagon,
which General Sheridan occasionally used. These little horses, but
thirteen hands high, showed more vigor and endurance than any other of
the animals we had with us. Following the ambulances came the main body
of the escort and the supply wagons.
We marched seventeen miles the first day, and went into camp on Fox
Creek, a tributary of the Republican. No hunting had as yet been done;
but I informed the gentlemen of the party that we would strike the
buffalo country the next day. A hundred or more questions were then
asked me by this one and that one, and the whole evening was spent
principally in buffalo talk, sandwiched with stories of the plains--both
of war and of the chase. Several of the party, who were good vocalists,
gave us some excellent music. We closed the evening by christening the
camp, naming it Camp Brown, in honor of the gallant officer in command of
the escort.
At three o'clock next morning the bugle called us to an early start. We
had breakfast at half-past four, and at six were in the saddle. All were
eager to see and shoot the buffaloes which I assured them we would
certainly meet during the day. After marching five miles, the advance
guard, of which I had the command, discovered six buffaloes grazing at a
distance of about two miles from us. We returned to the hunters with this
information, and they at once consulted with me as to the best way to
attack the "enemy."
Acting upon my suggestions, Fitzhugh, Crosby, Lawrence Jerome,
Livingston, Hecksher and Rogers, accompanied by myself as guide, rode
through a convenient cañon to a point beyond the buffaloes, so that we
were to the windward of the animals. The rest of the party made a detour
of nearly five miles, keeping behind the crest of a hill. We charged down
upon the buffaloes, at full gallop, and just then the other party emerged
from their concealment and witnessed the exciting chase. The buffaloes
started off in a line, single file. Fitzhugh, after a lively gallop, led
us all and soon came alongside the rear buffalo, at which he fired. The
animal faltered, and then with another shot Fitzhugh brought him to the
ground. Crosby dashed by him and leveled another of the herd, while
Livingston dropped a third. Those who were not directly engaged in the
hunt now came up and congratulated the men upon their success, and
Fitzhugh was at once hailed as the winner of the buffalo cup; while all
sympathized with Hecksher, whose chance had been the best at the start,
but who lost by reason of his horse falling and rolling over him.
The hunt being over, the column moved forward on its march passing
through a prairie-dog town, several miles in extent. These animals are
found throughout the plains, living together in a sort of society; their
numberless burrows in their "towns" adjoin each other, so that great care
is necessary in riding through these places, as the ground is so
undermined as often to fall in under the weight of a horse. Around the
entrance to their holes the ground is piled up almost a foot high; on
these little elevations the prairie-dogs sit upon their hind legs,
chattering to each other and observing whatever passes on the plains.
They will permit a person to approach quite near, but when they have
viewed him closely, they dive into their dens with wonderful quickness.
They are difficult to kill, and if hit, generally succeed in crawling
underground before they can be captured. Rattlesnakes and small owls are
generally found in great numbers in the prairie-dog towns, and live in
the same holes with the dogs on friendly terms. A few of the prairie-dogs
were killed, and were found to be very palatable eating.
[Illustration: PRAIRIE-DOG VILLAGE.]
A short distance beyond the dog town we discovered a settlement of five
white men, who proved to be the two Clifford brothers, Arthur Ruff, Dick
Seymour and John Nelson--the latter already referred to in these pages.
Each of them had a squaw wife and numerous half-breed children, living in
tents of buffalo skins. They owned a herd of horses and mules and a few
cattle, and had cultivated a small piece of land. Their principal
occupation was hunting, and they had a large number of buffalo hides,
which, they had tanned in the Indian manner.
Upon reaching Pleasant Valley, on Medicine Creek, our party divided into
two detachments--one hunting along the bank of the stream for elk or
deer, and the other remaining with the main body of the escort. The elk
hunters met with no success whatever, but the others ran across plenty of
buffaloes, and nearly everybody killed one or more before the day was
over. Lawrence Jerome made an excellent shot; while riding in an
ambulance he killed a buffalo which attempted to cross the line of march.
At about four o'clock P.M., we arrived at Mitchell's Fork of the
Medicine, having traveled thirty-five miles during that day, and there we
went into camp--calling it Camp Jack Hayes, in honor of Lieutenant Hayes.
On the next morning, the 25th, we moved out of camp at eight o'clock.
The party was very successful through the day in securing game,
Hecksher, Fitzhugh, Livingston and Lieutenant Hayes; and in fact all did
good shooting.
Lawrence Jerome persuaded me to let him ride Buckskin Joe, the best
buffalo horse in the whole outfit, and on his back he did wonders among
the buffaloes. Leonard Jerome, Bennett and Rogers also were very
successful in buffalo hunting.
Our camp of this night was named Camp Asch to commemorate our surgeon,
Dr. Asch. The evening was pleasantly spent around the camp fires in
relating the adventures of the day.
Upon crossing the Republican river on the morning of the 26th, we came
upon an immense number of buffaloes scattered over the country in every
direction, as far as the eye could reach and all had an opportunity to
do as much hunting as they wished. The wagons and troops moved slowly
along in the direction of the next camp, while the hunters went off
separately, or by twos and threes, in different directions, and all were
rewarded with abundant success. Lawrence Jerome, however, had his career
suddenly checked. He had dismounted to make a steady and careful shot,
and thoughtlessly let go of the bridle. The buffalo failing to take a
tumble, as he ought to have done, started off at a lively gait, followed
by Buckskin Joe--the horse being determined to do some hunting on his own
account--the last seen of him, he was a little ahead of the buffalo, and
gaining slightly, leaving his late rider to his own reflections and the
prospect of a tramp; his desolate condition was soon discovered and
another horse warranted not to run under any provocation, was sent to
him. It maybe stated here that three days afterwards, as I subsequently
learned, Buckskin Joe, all saddled and bridled, turned up at Fort
McPherson.
We pitched our tents for the night in a charming spot on the bank of
Beaver Creek. The game was so abundant that we remained there one day.
This stopping place was called. Camp Cody, in honor of the reader's
humble servant.
The next day was spent in hunting jack-rabbits, coyotes, elks,
antelopes and wild turkeys. We had a splendid dinner as will be seen
from the following:
BILL OF FARE.
SOUP.
Buffalo Tail.
FISH.
Cisco broiled, fried Dace.
ENTREES.
Salmi of Prairie Dog, Stewed Rabbit, Fillet of Buffalo,
Aux Champignons.
ROAST.
Elk, Antelope, Black-tailed Deer, Wild Turkey.
BROILED.
Teal, Mallard, Antelope Chops, Buffalo-Calf Steaks,
Young Wild Turkey.
VEGETABLES.
Sweet Potatoes, Mashed Potatoes, Green Peas.
DESSERT.
Tapioca Pudding.
WINES.
Champagne Frappe, Champagne au Naturel, Claret,
Whiskey, Brandy, Bass' Ale.
COFFEE.
This I considered a pretty square meal for a party of hunters, and
everybody did ample justice to it.
In the evening a court-martial was held, at which I presided as chief
justice. We tried one of the gentlemen for aiding and abetting in the
loss of a government horse, and for having something to do with the
mysterious disappearance of a Colt's pistol. He was charged also with
snoring in a manner that was regarded as fiendish, and with committing a
variety of other less offenses too numerous to mention.
The accused made a feeble defense as to the pistol, and claimed that
instead of losing a government horse, the fact was that the horse had
lost him. His statements were all regarded as "too thin," and finally
failing to prove good character, he confessed all, and threw himself upon
the mercy of the court. The culprit was Lawrence Jerome.
As chief justice I delivered the opinion of the court, which my modesty
does not prevent me from saying, was done in an able and dignified
manner; as an act of clemency I suspended judgment for the time being,
remarking that while the camp fire held out to burn, the vilest sinner
might return; and in hope of the accused's amendment, I would defer
pronouncing sentence. The trial afforded its considerable amusement, and
gave me a splendid opportunity to display the legal knowledge which I had
acquired while acting as justice of the peace at Fort McPherson.
On the morning of the 28th the command crossed the South Beaver, distant
nine miles from Camp Cody, and then striking a fair road we made a rapid
march until we reached our camp on Short Nose or Prairie Dog Creek,
about 2 P. M., after having made twenty-four miles. The remainder of the
afternoon was spent in hunting buffaloes and turkeys. Camp Stager was the
name given to this place, in honor of General Stager, of the Western
Union Telegraph Company.
The next day we made a march of twenty-four miles, and then halted at
about 1 P. M. on the North Solomon River. This day we killed three
buffaloes, two antelopes, two raccoons, and three teal ducks. Near our
camp, which we named Camp Leonard Jerome, was a beaver dam some six feet
high and twenty yards wide; it was near the junction of two streams, and
formed a pond of at least four acres.
On the 30th we traveled twenty-five miles, and during the march nine
turkeys, two rabbits, and three or four buffaloes were killed. We went
into camp on the bank of the South Fork of the Solomon River and called
the place Camp Sam Johnson. We were now but forty-five miles from Fort
Hays, the point at which General Sheridan and his guests expected to
strike the Kansas Pacific Railway, and thence return home. That evening
I volunteered to ride to Fort Hays and meet the party next day,
bringing with me all the letters that might be at the post. Taking the
best horse in the command I started out, expecting to make the trip in
about four hours.
The next morning the command got an early start and traveled thirty miles
to Saline River, where they made their last camp on the plains. As some
of the party were attacking a herd of buffaloes, I rode in from Fort Hays
and got into the middle of the herd, and killed a buffalo or two before
the hunters observed me. I brought a large number of letters, which
proved welcome reading matter.
In the evening we gathered around the camp-fire for the last time. The
duty of naming the camp, which was called Camp Davies, having been duly
performed, we all united in making that night the pleasantest of all that
we had spent together. We had eloquent speeches, songs, and interesting
anecdotes. I was called upon, and entertained the gentlemen with some
lively Indian stories.
The excursionists reached Fort Hays, distant fifteen miles, on the
morning of October 2d, where we pitched our tents for the last time, and
named the camp in honor of Mr. Hecksher. That same afternoon General
Sheridan and his guests took the train for the East, after bidding Major
Browa, Lieutenant Hayes and myself a hearty good-bye, and expressing
themselves as greatly pleased with their hunt, and the manner in which
they had been escorted and guided.
It will be proper and fair to state here that General Davies afterwards
wrote an interesting account of this hunt and published it in a neat
volume of sixty-eight pages, under the title of "Ten Days on the Plains."
I would have inserted the volume bodily in this book, were it not for the
fact that the General has spoken in a rather too complimentary manner of
me. However, I have taken the liberty in this chapter to condense from
the little volume, and in some places I have used the identical language
of General Davies without quoting the same; in fact, to do the General
justice, I ought to close this chapter with several lines of quotation
marks to be pretty generally distributed by the reader throughout my
account of our ten days' hunt.
Soon after the departure of General Sheridan's party, we returned to Fort
McPherson and found General Carr about to start out on a twenty days'
scout, not so much for the purpose of finding Indians, but more for the
object of taking some friends on a hunt. His guests were a couple of
Englishmen,--whose names I cannot now remember--and Mr. McCarthy, of
Syracuse, New York, who was a relative of General Emory. The command
consisted of three companies of the Fifth Cavalry, one company of Pawnee
Indians, and twenty-five wagons. Of course I was called on to accompany
the expedition.
One day, after we had been out from the post for some little time, I was
hunting on Deer Creek, in company with Mr. McCarthy, about eight miles
from the command. I had been wishing for several days to play a joke on
him, and had arranged a plan with Captain Lute North to carry it into
execution. I had informed North at about what time we would be on Deer
Creek, and it was agreed that he should appear in the vicinity with some
of his Pawnees, who were to throw their blankets around them, and come
dashing down upon us, firing and whooping in true Indian style; while he
was to either conceal or disguise himself. This programme was faithfully
and completely carried out. I had been talking about Indians to McCarthy,
and he had become considerably excited, when just as we turned a bend of
the creek, we saw not half a mile from us about twenty Indians, who
instantly started for us on a gallop, firing their guns and yelling at
the top of their voices.
"McCarthy, shall we dismount and fight, or run?" said I.
He didn't wait to reply, but wheeling his horse, started at full speed
down the creek, losing his hat and dropping his gun; away he went, never
once looking back to see if he was being pursued. I tried to stop him by
yelling at him and saying that it was all right, as the Indians were
Pawnees. Unfortunately he did not hear me, but kept straight on, not
stopping his horse until he reached the camp.
[Illustration: MCCARTHY'S FRIGHT.]
I knew that he would tell General Carr that the Indians had jumped him,
and that the General would soon start out with the troops. So as soon as
the Pawnees rode up to me I told them to remain there while I went after
my friend. I rode after him as fast as possible, but he had arrived at
the command some time before me and when I got there the General had, as
I had suspected he would do, ordered out two companies of cavalry to go
in pursuit of the Indians. I told the General that the Indians were only
some Pawnees, who had been out hunting and that they had merely played a
joke upon us. I forgot to inform him that I had put up the trick, but
as he was always fond of a good joke himself, he did not get very angry.
I had picked up McCarthy's hat and gun which I returned to him, and it
was some time afterwards before he discovered who was at the bottom of
the affair.
When we returned to Fort McPherson we found there Mr. Royal Buck, whose
father had been killed with his entire party by Pawnee Killer's band of
Indians on the Beaver Creek. He had a letter from the commanding officer
of the Department requesting that he be furnished with an escort to go in
search of the remains of his father and the party. Two companies of
cavalry were sent with him and I accompanied them as guide. As the old
squaw, which we had captured, and of which mention is made in a previous
chapter, could not exactly tell us the place on Beaver Creek where the
party had been killed, we searched the country over for two days and
discovered no signs of the murdered men. At last, however, our efforts
were rewarded with success. We found pieces of their wagons and among
other things an old letter or two which Mr. Buck recognized as his
father's handwriting. We then discovered some of the remains, which we
buried; but nothing further. It was now getting late in the fall and we
accordingly returned to Fort McPherson.
A short time after this the Fifth Cavalry was ordered to Arizona, a not
very desirable country to soldier in. I had become greatly attached to
the officers of the regiment, having been continually with them for over
three years, and had about made up my mind to accompany them, when a
letter was received from General Sheridan instructing the commanding
officer "not to take Cody" with him, and saying that I was to remain in
my old position. In a few days the command left for its destination,
taking the cars at McPherson Station, where I bade my old friends adieu.
During the next few weeks I had but little to do, as the post was
garrisoned by infantry, awaiting the arrival of the Third Cavalry.
[Illustration: FINDING THE REMAINS OF THE BUCK PARTY.]