HONORS.
Upon reaching Fort McPherson, I found that the Third Cavalry, commanded
by General Reynolds, had arrived from Arizona, in which Territory they
had been on duty for some time, and where they had acquired quite a
reputation on account of their Indian fighting qualities.
Shortly after my return, a small party of Indians made a dash on
McPherson Station, about five miles from the fort, killing two or three
men and running off quite a large number of horses. Captain Meinhold and
Lieutenant Lawson with their company were ordered out to pursue and
punish the Indians if possible. I was the guide of the expedition and had
as an assistant T.B. Omohundro, better known as "Texas Jack" and who was
a scout at the post.
Finding the trail, I followed it for two days, although it was difficult
trailing because the red-skins had taken every possible precaution to
conceal their tracks. On the second day Captain Meinhold went into camp
on the South Fork of the Loupe, at a point where the trail was badly
scattered. Six men were detailed to accompany me on a scout in search of
the camp of the fugitives. We had gone but a short distance when we
discovered Indians camped, not more than a mile away, with horses grazing
near by. They were only a small party, and I determined to charge upon
them with my six men, rather than return to the command, because I feared
they would see us as we went back and then they would get away from us
entirely. I asked the men if they were willing to attempt it, and they
replied that they would follow me wherever I would lead them. That was
the kind of spirit that pleased me, and we immediately moved forward on
the enemy, getting as close to them as possible without being seen.
I finally gave the signal to charge, and we dashed into the little camp
with a yell. Five Indians sprang out of a willow tepee, and greeted us
with a volley, and we returned the fire. I was riding Buckskin Joe, who
with a few jumps brought me up to the tepee, followed by my men. We
nearly ran over the Indians who were endeavoring to reach their horses on
the opposite side of the creek. Just as one was jumping the narrow stream
a bullet from my old "Lucretia" overtook him. He never reached the other
bank, but dropped dead in the water. Those of the Indians who were
guarding the horses, seeing what was going on at the camp, came rushing
to the rescue of their friends. I now counted thirteen braves, but as we
had already disposed of two, we had only eleven to take care of. The odds
were nearly two to one against us.
While the Indian reinforcements were approaching the camp I jumped the
creek with Buckskin Joe to meet them, expecting our party would follow
me; but as they could not induce their horses to make the leap, I was the
only one who got over. I ordered the sergeant to dismount his men, and
leaving one to hold the horses, to come over with the rest and help me
drive the Indians off. Before they could do this, two mounted warriors
closed in on me and were shooting at short range. I returned their fire
and had the satisfaction of seeing one of them fall from his horse. At
this moment I felt blood trickling down my forehead, and hastily running
my hand through my hair I discovered that I had received a scalp wound.
The Indian, who had shot me, was not more than ten yards away, and when
he saw his partner tumble from his saddle, he turned to run.
By this time the soldiers had crossed the creek to assist me, and were
blazing away at the other Indians. Urging Buckskin Joe forward, I was
soon alongside of the chap who had wounded me, when raising myself in the
stirrups I shot him through the head.
The reports of our guns had been heard by Captain Meinhold, who at once
started with his company up the creek to our aid, and when the remaining
Indians, whom we were still fighting, saw these reinforcements coming
they whirled their horses and fled; as their steeds were quite fresh they
made their escape. However, we killed six out of the thirteen Indians,
and captured most of their stolen stock. Our loss was one man killed, and
one man--myself--slightly wounded. One of our horses was killed, and
Buckskin Joe was wounded, but I didn't discover the fact until some time
afterwards as he had been shot in the breast and showed no signs of
having received a scratch of any kind. Securing the scalps of the dead
Indians and other trophies we returned to the fort.
I made several other scouts during the summer with different officers of
the Third Cavalry, one being with Major Alick Moore, a good officer,
with whom I was out for thirty days. Another long one was with Major
Curtis, with whom I followed some Indians from the South Platte river to
Fort Randall on the Missouri river in Dakota, on which trip the command
ran out of rations and for fifteen days subsisted entirely upon the game
we killed.
In the fall of 1872 the Earl of Dunraven and Dr. Kingsley with several
friends came to Fort McPherson with a letter from General Sheridan,
asking me to accompany them on an elk hunt. I did so, and I afterwards
spent several weeks in hunting with the Earl of Dunraven, who was a
thorough sportsman and an excellent hunter. It was while I was out with
the Earl, that a Chicago party--friends of General Sheridan--arrived at
Fort McPherson for the purpose of going out on a hunt. They, too, had a
letter from, the General requesting me to go with them. The Earl had not
yet finished his hunt, but as I had been out with him for several weeks,
and he had by this time learned where to find plenty of elks and other
game, I concluded to leave him and accompany the Chicago party. I
informed him of my intention and gave him my reasons for going, at the
same time telling him that I would send him one of my scouts, Texas Jack,
who was a good hunter, and would be glad to accompany him. The Earl
seemed to be somewhat offended at this, and I don't think he has ever
forgiven me for "going back on him." Let that be as it may, he found
Texas Jack a splendid hunter and guide, and Jack has been his guide on
several hunts since.
[Illustration: TEXAS JACK]
Among the gentlemen who composed the Chicago party were E.P.
Green,--son-in-law of Remington, the rifle manufacturer,--Alexander
Sample, Mr. Milligan, of the firm of Heath & Milligan, of Chicago, and
several others, whose names I do not now remember. Mr. Milligan was a
man full of life, and was continually "boiling over with fun." He was a
regular velocipede, so to speak, and was here, there, and everywhere.
He was exceedingly desirous of having an Indian fight on the trip, not
that he was naturally a blood-thirsty man but just for variety he
wanted a little "Indian pie." He was in every respect the life of the
party, during the entire time that we were out. One day while he was
hunting with Sample and myself we came in sight of a band of thirty
mounted Indians.
"Milligan, here's what you've been wanting for some time," said I, "for
yonder is a war party of Indians and no mistake; and they'll come for
us, you bet."
"I don't believe this is one of my fighting days," replied Milligan, "and
it occurs to me that I have urgent business at the camp."
Our camp was five or six miles distant on the Dismal river, and our
escort consisted of a company of cavalry commanded by Captain Russell.
The soldiers were in camp, and Milligan thought that Captain Russell
ought to be at once notified of the appearance of these Indians. Knowing
that we could reach the camp in safety, for we were well mounted, I
continued to have considerable amusement at Milligan's expense, who
finally said:
"Cody, what's making my hat raise up so. I can hardly keep it on my
head."
Sample, who was as cool as a cucumber, said to Milligan: "There must be
something wrong with your hair. It must be trying to get on end."
"It's all very fine for you fellows to stand here and talk," replied
Milligan, "but I am not doing justice to my family by remaining. Sample,
I think we are a couple of old fools to have come out here, and I never
would have done so if it had not been for you."
By this time the Indians had discovered us and were holding a
consultation, and Milligan turned his horse in the direction of the camp.
I never believed that he was half as scared as he seemed to be, but that
he was merely pretending so that we could enjoy our joke. However, we did
not wait any longer but rode into camp and notified Captain Russell, who
immediately started with his company to pursue the band.
While we were riding along with the company Milligan said to Sample:
"Now, Alick, let them come on. We may yet go back to Chicago covered
with glory."
We struck the trail going north, but as we had not come out on a scout
for Indians, we concluded not to follow them; although Milligan was now
very anxious to proceed and clean them out.
The hunt came to an end in a day or two, and we escorted the visiting
hunters to North Platte, where they took the train for Chicago. Before
their departure they extended to me a very cordial invitation to come to
their city on a visit, promising that I should be well taken care of.
Soon after this I had the pleasure of guiding a party of gentlemen from
Omaha on a buffalo hunt. Among the number were Judge Dundy, Colonel
Watson B. Smith, and U.S. District Attorney Neville. We left Fort
McPherson in good trim. I was greatly amused at the "style" of Mr.
Neville, who wore a stove-pipe hat and a swallow-tail coat, which made up
a very comical rig for a buffalo hunter. As we galloped over the prairie,
he jammed his hat down over his ears to keep it from being shaken off his
head, and in order to stick to his horse, he clung to the pommel of his
saddle. He was not much of a rider, and he went bouncing up and down,
with his swallow-tails flopping in the air. The sight I shall never
forget, for it was enough to make a "horse laugh," and I actually believe
old Buckskin Joe did laugh.
However, we had a splendid hunt, and on the second day I lariated, or
roped, a big buffalo bull and tied him to a tree,--a feat which I had
often performed, and which the gentlemen requested me to do on this
occasion for their benefit, as they had heard of my skill with the
lariat. I captured several other buffaloes in the same way. The gentlemen
returned to Omaha well pleased with their hunt.
In the fall of the year, 1872, a convention was held at Grand Island,
when some of my friends made me their candidate to represent the
Twenty-sixth District in the legislature of Nebraska; but as I had always
been a Democrat and the State was largely Republican, I had no idea of
being elected. In fact I cared very little about it, and therefore made
no effort whatever to secure an election. However, I was elected and that
is the way in which I acquired my title of Honorable.