ANOTHER ATTEMPT AT A HONEY-MOON--LEARNING AND LOVING--TWO
UNEXPECTED RECRUITS--PLENTY OF WORK TO DO--A FEW OF THE
SAINTS--WHAT A PITY HE IS NOT AN INDIAN--SIGHTING THE ENEMY--
FREEZING WEATHER--SOME CLEVER GENERALSHIP--THE FIGHT IN THE RIVER--
A NARROW ESCAPE--DESTROYING SUPPLIES--A LITTLE MINING--HOME AGAIN.
On returning to Susanville, I had the satisfaction of resuming my
interrupted honey-moon, and learning from my wife in our lovingly long
talks together, much about my friends, which no letter is ever
voluminous enough to tell. To say the truth, letters are nothing but the
headings of the chapters of life, condensed according to the peculiar
temperament of the writer. Sometimes, they give scarcely any idea of the
real contents. Not infrequently, they afford an unqualifiedly false
index to that which they are in a measure supposed to represent.
Moreover, she was far more of a woman than she had been. Self-dependence
had in a measure changed her, as my life on the frontier had altered me.
I had to re-study her nature, as she very certainly had to re-learn
mine.
There were many moments when, in spite of her love I caught her studying
my face as if she was scarcely able to realize how completely the crude
civilization of frontier-life had warped mine, for the better or the
worse. While I, as frequently, detected myself wondering at the change a
few years of absence had made in the girl I had loved well enough to
tie myself to for life.
Yet, I believe, the change was not an unpleasant one to either of us. At
least, I may safely affirm that it was not so to me.
The summer and great portion of the autumn passed but too quickly. Some
few weeks of them had been spent with the boys at our mining claims on
the Humboldt. Nor were we, on the whole, unsuccessful, having made a
tolerably fair pile, in reward for our labor. When the autumn was nearly
over, my companions went up the river as far as Gravelly Ford, with the
intention of pitching their camp there for the winter. This was with the
purpose of hunting and trapping. I had to keep the agreement already
made with Colonel Connor. After leaving my pet bear, Charley, in the
care of Butch', with whom he was almost as friendly as he was with me,
I, therefore, again rejoined my wife for a brief time, while I commenced
my preparations.
These were prolonged until the last moment, when I was astonished by a
visit from Harry Arnold and Brighton Bill, whom I had left scarcely more
than a week since at Gravelly Ford. In my surprise I asked:
"What, in the name of Heaven! brings you back here?"
"Can't you guess, Mose?" Harry asked.
"Has anything happened?"
"Nothing particular."
This was the reply of the previous speaker, as Bill added, with his
peculiarly British pronunciation:
"We've made h'up hour minds to pull h'up stakes and join you."
"What do you really mean?"
The question was far from an unnatural one. My engagement with the
Colonel had been repeatedly talked over with the boys when they were
present. Neither of them, up to this time, had displayed the slightest
indication of a desire to accompany me.
"To henlist with hour Cap!" exclaimed Bill.
"That's exactly what we mean."
I was but too glad to have them with me, and felt sure Connor would be
even more pleased. A few hours were sufficient for them to get ready,
and on the following morning the three of us quitted Susanville.
For some hours after leaving it, I felt as I had never before done, when
starting on any expedition. The tear-blurred eyes of my wife kept
painting themselves before me. It must be remembered how long we had
been separated from each other, and how recently, for the second time,
we had again commenced married life. Even the gay jests of Arnold, and
the coarser, but equally well-meant consolation of Brighton Bill, failed
to restore my usually blithe spirits until the noon was long past.
Movement and action, however, possess a large degree of comfort in them.
By this time I had recovered my equanimity, and on the following day I
was as gay as either of them. Nothing of note beyond the common everyday
occurrences of travel of this class occurred while we were on our road,
until we reached Egan Cañon. Here we met some of Connor's men, who had
been stationed there to protect the Overland stages. Thence we passed
through Camp Floyd to Stockton, where we found the Colonel's command
encamped near a small lake. Both he and Major Gallagher welcomed me in
the most cordial manner. On presenting my two companions, whose names
were well known to both of them, this cordiality was greatly increased.
"I knew we had secured one good man when we got you to join us," said
Connor. "But I little thought you would bring us two more, as good as
yourself."
He then informed us that we might take things as easily as we chose for
the next few days, after which, he quietly said, he trusted to give us
plenty of work. Arnold replied:
"The more of it, Colonel, the better."
The hearty readiness with which this answer was made, seemed to please
him very much. When, shortly after, he left us, I heard him say to
Gallagher:
"We are in luck, Major!"
Nor can I be charged with undue vanity, in supposing his congratulatory
sentence referred to myself and my two companions.
We necessarily resigned ourselves to the comfort or discomfort, as man
chooses to consider it, of doing nothing for the following week, or
somewhat less. One morning, however, we were startled by a visit from
the notorious Port Rockwell, Bill Hickman, Lot Smith, and others of the
so-called Mormon Danites. Why they came was, of course, none of our
business. Yet, we had heard too much of them to fail in examining them
closely, and I am free to own I was not too deeply impressed by the
sanctity of their appearance. The greater portion of them were, however,
pretty muscular examples of saintship, and exhibited, what I always
supposed they would, considerable oiliness as a veneer to their even
less pure and peaceable proclivities. While we were inspecting them, I
could not refrain from asking Arnold what he thought of them. He
delayed a minute or two in making his reply, and Brighton Bill improved
the occasion by propounding to me in a solemn, and exceedingly audible
voice, the following query:
"H'i say, Mose! 'ave they h'all ha dozen wives h'apiece?"
"I suppose so, Bill," I replied with a quiet smile.
"'Eaven take care of 'em!" he ejaculated with a mournful air of pity.
"What? of these fellows?"
"No! Mose! H'of the poor lambs that hare tied hup to such ha blamed lot
of Turks. H'if Hi had my will with the blackguards, Hi'd lock 'em hup,
hin the Hold Bailey, or," he added reflectively, as if he feared I might
not understand the character of the place he had alluded to, "four
prison-walls for the 'ole of their life."
My companion had announced his views, with regard to the Danites, in
tones which were something too loud. They were very evidently heard by
Bill Hickman, who turned to look at him. As he did so, Harry for the
first time spoke in a voice whose pitch was decidedly intended to reach
the saintly ears.
"A truly delightful face, Mose!"
"Do you think so?"
"How I wish he was a red-skin!"
"Blamed hif you h'arn't right, Hank!" cried Bill, "'ow neat you could
track and wipe 'im hout."
The part of this conversation which had been audible to Hickman, could
scarcely have been highly agreeable.
Very certainly, I never saw a more diabolical scowl spread over any
face, than did over his. It was, however, no very great length of time
before they left us.
"I would scarcely advise you, Harry! to come in St. Hickman's way," I
remarked when they were quitting the camp, "without having your revolver
quite ready."
"I don't intend to, Mose!" he replied, with a sharp laugh.
Some two days after this, Colonel Connor detailed me to accompany a
detachment under the command of Lieutenant Ether, up through the Bear
River country. Arnold was assigned to another, which was to take the
road through Ogden Cañon, while a third was provided with Brighton Bill
as a guide, and were to go in the direction of Goose Creek and the City
of Rocks. The two parties were to meet near Soda Springs.
Our detachment had only been out for a few days,[2] when I, who was a
long way in advance, sighted a large body of Indians. Necessarily I fell
back, and reported this to the officer in command. He immediately sent
information of this to Colonel Connor. Afterwards, I heard that the two
other parties had made a similar discovery, and sent him intelligence to
the same effect. He immediately ordered his whole command to march
towards Bear River, having sent instructions to the remaining
detachments. The interval which elapsed before he joined us, was passed
by me in keeping a keen look-out for the Indians. From the very first, I
had seen that the colonel was a widely different class of officer from
any of the servants of Uncle Sam I had yet met. If he meant business, it
would be a pity to balk good intentions, and it should not be my fault
if he failed to have plenty of it. Consequently, I did not feel
disposed to let the red-skins slip, from my neglect to keep my eyes wide
open.
No sooner had he joined us and received my daily reports from Lieutenant
Ether, as well as the last one from myself, than he, in person, made a
_reconnoissance_.
The result was, that he came to the conclusion already formed by me,
that the Indians were concentrating their forces on Bear River.
It was in the dead of winter, and the temperature was intensely cold.
The soldiers were suffering dreadfully, and but for the kindness and
precaution of their colonel for them, many must have been lost or have
perished by their exposure. He was a very strict disciplinarian. There
was, however, not one of his men who did not love him the better for an
inflexibility which was equally resolute in as far as possible providing
for their comfort. This case was clearly one of necessity. If the
Indians moved in this bitterly freezing weather, his men were obliged to
move also. Nor did he shrink from sharing their sufferings and labors.
Consequently, on the following morning we started early on our way up
the river, continuing until we were within ten miles of the Soda
Springs.
Here, we saw the red-skins encamped in a strong position on the other
side of the stream. It was almost a natural fortification, being
protected by a deep cañon and huge rocks. While we were advancing, they
fired on us. Their shots, however, failed. We were out of the range of
their guns. Colonel Connor's dispositions for the attack were simple in
the extreme, but very masterly. He ordered one party up the river to
occupy a bluff which projected into it. Another was sent down the stream
to take their position on the bank which commanded it, at no very great
distance. The fire from either spot commanded the passage of the river.
When these two points were held, he ordered the main body to ford the
stream, still keeping a portion of his force in reserve.
Bitterly cold as the water was, and as I found it, the soldiers did not
evince the faintest shadow of hesitation when he gave the word.
Up to this moment, I believe the red-skins did not believe that Connor
would attack them. Scarcely unreasonably, they counted too much upon
their past experiences with Uncle Sam's blue-coats. In the present case,
the blue-coats were tarred with a widely different brush. They had
barely seen us in the river, than a rolling series of yells and whoops
broke from them, which it would be utterly useless for words to attempt
giving any idea of. The wall of icily chill water they had counted on to
secure the front of their camp was useless. They had to fight, and
dashed into the stream to drive back the enemy. Not more than one minute
had they plunged into the freezing water, than from the bank and bluff
rang out the rifles of the men Connor had posted there.
It was a terrible discharge, and drove them back. As they found
themselves on dry earth, our gallant fellows followed them.
Dripping with the water, which would have frozen on them, but for the
savagely fierce passion of that terribly mad struggle--shooting,
clubbing, knifing, with the shouts and yells of actual devils--never do
I believe a more bitter strife, considering its numbers, has been seen
on any battle-field. It took two hours of hard fighting for us to
completely rout them. This is the first time I have ever applied such a
term to the defeat of a body of red-skins, simply because it is the
first time in which I ever saw them really stand up and fight.
Often enough they slay when their numbers are fifteen to one, or are
slain if the proportion chances to be an inferior one. It is,
nevertheless, very rarely that they resist an open attack. This, more
especially when it is made by any force which, in number, approaches
their own.
When the last living Indian had fled, orders had been given us to
destroy their supplies. There were several tons of dried meats,
Government bacon, sugar, with no inconsiderable amount of whiskey and
United States blankets, besides tobacco and other articles of native
luxury. The red rascals had evidently a good commissariat, and had
provided themselves for what they imagined would be a lengthy campaign.
We also found a large quantity of powder. This we rolled into the river,
and burned the rest.
In the meantime, our men who had not been employed in this necessary
task, had been reckoning those who had been killed.
About one hundred and nineteen dead bodies were, I believe, counted in
all.
The effects of the battle of Bear River were for the time decisive in
pacifying this section of the country, and compelling the Indians in the
whole neighborhood to remain quiet. And, may I not here, in all proper
humility, ask our Government why it does not constantly employ such men
as Colonel Connor to enforce peace upon the red-skins. Let it give us an
Indian Bureau in the Cabinet. Place it in the control of such a man as
General Sheridan, General Cook, or other almost equally able military
men, whose names will readily suggest themselves to the reader. Give
this Bureau unchecked authority to deal with the red man. It will sweep
away the whole race of thieving Indian agents, and save the country many
a dollar, as well as many a more valuable life which at present would
seem to represent no positive value to the Government of the United
States.
Perhaps, I should mention the narrow escape the officer, whose
detachment I had been detailed to accompany on its advance in this
direction, had, during the battle.
It was well nigh over. He was on the summit of a small ridge of rock
which jutted from the eastern side of the camping-ground, when a
red-skin fired on him, scarcely from a distance of some twenty yards.
The ball missed Ether, but grazed the cheek of Hughey Greer, a private
who was close to him. Wheeling round, Greer saw the Indian and took him
between the eyes with a shot from his revolver, killing him instantly.
Greer subsequently received promotion.
Naturally enough, the results of this victory enabled the Colonel to
dispense with my services, although he would willingly have retained me
longer with him. Shortly after, Arnold, Brighton Bill, and myself,
therefore started for Idaho City, with the intention of again trying our
luck in mining. We located a placer or claim on Bannock Bar, just above
the Marion Moore claim. This turned out very favorably. After working it
for nearly two months, we sold it to Henry Allen for a fairly round
price, and determined upon making our return to Honey Lake.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] During our absence, Colonel Connor established Camp Douglas, a few
miles from Salt Lake City. It was on a rising ground, and very
thoroughly commanded the Mormon capital.