Martin's Cruel Treatment of Us--Baker's Kindness--Our Journey
Home--Reception by our Families--Our Claim against the Government.
We expected to get some assistance from a man by the name of
William Martin, whom we were acquainted with. He had been at Provo
merchandising, but had moved to Denver.
On arriving in Denver and meeting Martin, we told him our situation. He
very readily said we could have what we wanted, and asked how much we
would need. I told him twenty-five dollars would answer. It was about
noon and he said, "Wait and have some dinner, then you can go on."
He stepped out but returned in a few minutes, asking, "Whose fine mules
are those under the shed?"
I replied, "They are ours."
He said, "They are fine mules; I will give you a good trade for them."
And then offered us a pair of ponies and twenty-five dollars.
I told him they were all we had left of what we had earned during our
trip; that we were anxious to get home as soon as possible, and that
they would carry us better than the ponies would. I knew the ponies
well that he offered us. He insisted on the trade. We declined as the
mules were worth at least $400, while the ponies were not worth over
$75. If he gave us the $25 difference he would still get at least $300
for nothing. Finally, when we would not trade, Martin said he had no
money to loan.
He had a large provision store, and I said, "Then let us have a little
provisions and we will go on."
He replied that he was selling on commission and could let nothing go
without the money. If ever two men felt indignant we did. We had parted
company with our friends, the two horsemen. They still had plenty of
money. They doubtless would have given us some had we asked them,
but we were sure of getting some from Martin. I also had several old
acquaintances in Denver who, no doubt, would have helped us, but we
felt now like asking no assistance from any person.
We had just forty cents and were four hundred miles from old Jack
Robinson's camp at Bridger. We know he would not turn us away. My
answer to Martin was "Bill Martin, you see these two mules; they are
better animals than you ought to own. It is only four hundred miles to
Jack Robinson's; they will carry us there in four days; we can starve
that long and you can't have the mules. Good day."
We bought forty cents worth of cheap cakes and started out with the
expectation of going hungry. As we crossed the bridge spanning the
Arkansas river, the roads forked. We enquired of a lad which road to
take naming our direction. He said either, but that the left hand road
went out five miles to Jim Baker's ranch. Here was a chance. Jim Baker
was an old friend that I had often met on the plains. I had taken care
of his brother, when snow-blind, while we were at Devil's Gate, so we
concluded to go there and see if Baker would be like Martin.
On arriving we were welcomed in the true, old-mountaineer style.
Although grass was abundant, he turned our mules into his oat field.
We told him about Martin, and he said, "Well now, I will go into town
every Saturday, get drunk, and abuse Martin for this until I run him
out of the country. I will never let up on him. Why he aint fit to
live."
Baker had his squaw fix us up some food; all we would take. Next
morning we started on feeling much better than when leaving Denver. We
met with others along the road who supplied our wants.
While at Bitter creek one of our mules got poisoned with bad water. We
got him as far as Jack Robinson's camp, leaving him and getting another.
On reaching Bridger, we overtook a government outfit coming into Camp
Floyd--Captain Clery and escort. The Captain was on his way to relieve
the then acting Quartermaster. He offered to supply us if we would
travel with him as they did not know the road. We traveled with him two
days receiving the best of treatment from officers and men. Our route
led down Provo Canyon. I had a number of acquaintances in this valley;
among the number Melvin Ross who lived at the head of the valley. He
was a man of considerable means. I told Moore we would go and camp
with him, telling how welcome we would be. There was a sergeant in the
company who knew the road from Weber. Neither Moore nor myself had
traveled the road from Weber to Provo valley. We went ahead and took
the wrong road so that we lost several miles in getting back to the
Provo road. In the meantime the soldiers passed on and got ahead of us.
This plagued us a little but we concluded to keep it to ourselves. When
we finally arrived at Ross's ranch we found the soldiers had passed and
were camped a short distance down the road.
Ross was out in front of his house just laying out a big fat mutton
dressed. He knew me but spoke rather coolly for an old friend, but
asked us to get down. I told him we would like to stop and get
something to eat and stay all night, but that we were without money. He
replied that we had some good ropes and blankets. I told him we needed
them, as we might go on down the canyon and camp, for we were anxious
to get home to our families. He said there was good camping down the
canyon. I thought he was doing this simply to joke us, but not so. We
finally started on, but expecting to be Celled back and laughed at.
Moore commenced laughing at me, saying, "That's your friend, is it?"
I said, "He'll call us back; he cannot mean this only as a joke."
Moore said, "Nary a joke; that man's in earnest."
I felt just about as bad as I ever remember to have felt. We had been
running the gauntlet for several hundred miles among strangers, looking
forward with great expectations on reaching friends at home. We had
traveled forty-five miles since eating. This we told Ross, but not a
bite would he let us have unless we gave him a rope or blanket. This
seemed so mean that we would rather have traveled all next day without
food than to ask anyone again.
When we came up to the soldier camp they asked us to stop and have
supper. Our mules were fed oats and turned out. We said nothing about
the grand (?) reception we had had, as we were ashamed to mention
it. We stayed till about eleven o'clock and then went on down the
canyon and laid out a short distance from several old friends and
acquaintances. We dared not call on anyone; so early next morning we
started for our homes in Provo, joking each other often and wondering
if our wives would treat us as Ross had.
We had made considerable money; every one of our acquaintances expected
us back with plenty. Of course, our wives expected us to come home
benefitted by the summer's trip. But all was lost and we were ragged
and worn, and presented anything but a dudish appearance. I will not do
our wives the injustice to say that we felt any doubt of the reception
we would receive at home. They were sisters and two as good and
faithful women as ever existed. We had no fears, although we made many
propositions suggestive of their shutting us out.
Our reception was such as true wives always give--all the more kind
because of our misfortune. I do not think I ever heard a word of regret
spoken by either of them for the loss of our property, so thankful were
they for our lives being spared under the great risk we ran.
I wrote on to Canby's adjutant, who, during the winter, was sent down
to Washington. About the time the Civil war broke out I got a letter
stating that I would get the money for our losses. But the officer
attending to it was probably killed in the war, as I never heard any
more from him.
Many of the military officers to whom I have related the circumstance
of our being pressed into service tell me the claim can be collected;
it certainly is due to us, for we have never as yet received any
benefit for our services.
Acting on the suggestions of some of the army officers I got together
sufficient affidavits to establish the facts here recorded making
my claim according to facts. My papers were all returned to me with
the statement that inasmuch as we were robbed by parties other than
Indians, that nothing could be done for us.
Some have advised me to change my papers and say that Indians were the
depredators, and make the claim accordingly. This I shall not do as
there is enough laid to the Indians already. If I ever get anything
it will be on the justice of the claim just as it occurred and not by
charging it to the Indians.