FLYING FROM THE PIUTES.
We sat for sometime listening and watching, as far as the darkness
would permit, for some new form of attack to be made; but not a sound
was to be heard but the dismal cackling of a cuckoo owl which I had
mistaken at first, on coming to my mountain residence for the evidence
of settlers near, by its somewhat remote resemblance to the cackle of a
hen. We were, to say the least, in an unenviable situation. Our horses
were all gone, we were three hundred miles from our base of supplies,
and the Indians on the warpath in earnest, as Callaway had been able to
determine by their gorgeously ugly style of paint.
To attempt to make our way back to Leadville on foot, through a region
beset by mounted hostiles, would be to invite destruction. To stay in
the cabin might serve to prolong our lives a few hours, but it was
only a matter of time till they would succeed in crushing, burning, or
starving us out, and we preferred to die fighting for life, while there
was a chance, to being cooped up where we would eventually be at their
mercy.
But where could we go? That was the question that vexed our meditation.
How could we subsist in a hostile country when our guns were our only
providers and to fire one would be to announce to the enemy that we
were courting their company? We munched a slapjack as we talked, and
wondered where our next meal would come from. The old man had fallen
into a brown study, and, when he straightened himself up and spoke, I
knew by his decided gestures that he had decided on a line of action.
“I have it, by St. Nicholas!” he exclaimed. “Four years ago, I and my
pard went down the Gunnison on a raft to its mouth, and on down the
Grand into Colorado as far as the southern end of the Elk Range, and
done some prospectin’ down thar. Just after we got into the Colorado
we saw a number of caves dug out of the solid rocks along the bluffs
like the ones I’ve often seen in the canyons in New Mexico; but who
built them, or for what, I’m dead sure I don’t know. But it strikes
me that just at this pertickler minit in the history of the Mountain
Spring mine up thar in the hill above us, a little buryin’ alive in one
o’ them rocky sepulchers would beat bein’ devoured or mashed here, and
buried permanently minus our scalp locks and the decent rites of burial
in this blessed Christian, Injun-polluted, God-forsaken country, whar
yallar gold, and redskin humans is considerations of the first water.
And if we live long enough to see the next paper after these bodies is
found, we’ll read a hair stiffenin’ article from some pertickler friend
of the Piutes in the East, tellin’ how some border ruffins had pitched
into a handful of peaceable Injuns in the wilds of the Elk Mountain
regions of the young and struttin’ state of Colorado, and butchered
’em in cold blood because they wouldn’t dance a pleasin’ jig fur the
fassechus white savages. But damn ’em, if the fine-haired hypocrites
won’t take care of their precious pets and convert ’em to Joe Smithism
and shirts, or some other modern style of hypocrisy, we’ll take the job
off their hands, and serve ’em with some Christianizing literatoor from
the Winchester magazine, and a substantial breakfast of lead pellets
served with saltpeter sass. What do you think, my lad?”
I had never seen the old man’s profane anger soar so high or his
store of grammar run so low, for he was by no means lacking in a fair
elementary education; but when he was greatly agitated, the later
accumulation of mining slang bubbled out much more naturally.
“Well, Uncle Abner,” I replied, “since you have asked my advice, which
you know is not very valuable on the present subject, I think that the
sooner we get out of this dead-fall and out of the Piute country in any
direction that offers a chance to escape, by fire, water, or air, we’d
better embrace it; and I’m with you, general,” said I, saluting him,
“and I am confident that you’ll lead your little army to victory.”
“All right, my boy, much obliged to you for your handsome compliment to
my ability, which is nothin’ extra at all; but whatever I’ve learned
about Injuns has been learned by hard knocks through a long life among
them, when, if you failed to learn your lesson, you had to pay it with
your life. I take it, there isn’t as much difference in the size of
men’s brainpans as there is in the disposition to keep peggin’ away
at the same idea till it’s got to come. Just now my idea’s to peg
away till we’ve got a lot of poles pegged together for a raft, and
let’er glide down the river, out of the range of these birds. I know
how far their happy hunting ground goes south, and we can do a little
prospecting down there to amuse ourselves till they go back across the
Grand River to their winter quarters; then we can come back by our
claim and maybe fall in with some sheep men or prospectors, and get
back to Leadville with our samples before winter sets in.”
“But how are you going to make a raft with these Piutes lurking around
here?” I asked; “they want no better opportunity to sneak upon us,
and pick us off, as they intended to do this evening before we got
shelter.”
“I’ve thought about all that; we’ll sneak down to the river after an
hour or so and take our arms, axes, and some grub with us, to the mouth
of the canyon, whar I started to trail up the ledge, yonder; I cut a
lot of poles there and made me a little shelter for cool nights. We’ll
take them and make our raft and then we’ll make another trip up here
and get everything that we can use or take along with us, and bid the
Mountain Spring Mine farewell for a while; but the first painful duty
we have to perform is to bury our poor unlucky pardner, so that it will
take a keener scent than a Piute’s to nose him out.”
“How do you propose to do that?” said I.
“Well,” said he, “did you notice how that pile of rubbish balanced
itself on that big rock like a circus rider on a flying trapeze? I
propose to lay his poor carcus close under that rock, and then topple
about forty tons of rock and dirt over on it, and we can defy Injuns or
wolves to disturb Riley’s long sleep.”
He proceeded to carry out his idea, picking up the form of our dead
comrade from the floor, and with my help, carried him to his resting
place.
Abner tried to speak bravely and keep down any show of emotion, but
his hot tears fell on my hands as we laid him carefully by the base
of the rock, without even the poor privilege of looking once more
upon his inanimate features. Then whispering to me to go back to the
cabin, he made his way around where he had noticed a small tree trunk
sticking out of the mass he wished to precipitate, and using this as
a lever, as he told me afterward, I soon heard it fall with a heavy
report in the still air, and knew that the funeral obsequies of our
faithful, honest friend were completed. Few people have so rude a
burial in our land, it is true, but few die more sincerely regretted
by those left behind than did Riley Cox. Only a poor sheep rancher in
the wildest mountains of the West, isolated from human companionship,
but enduring the hardships of his lonely life with manly fortitude and
true heroism. No decorations of the star and garter gleamed from his
funeral pile, but the stars of heaven witnessed his sepulture, and keep
watch and ward till the sunlight of Eternal Morning shall call him to
the companionship of kindred pure souls, and the cold and loneliness of
the “sheep walks” be forever forgotten in the new loves and pleasures
of fields elysian. After about another hour’s painful suspense in
the darkness, we deemed it safe to strike a light, after carefully
screening all the openings, and made our brief preparations for our
abrupt and disastrous departure from a region that had awakened for us
dazzling visions of fabulous wealth; but the day of our final triumph
seemed as far off as ever. Our little capital was swallowed up in the
outfit necessary to develop our mine, and now swept away entirely from
us, while a summer’s efforts were rendered fruitless, for we could
scarcely expect to get back to our mine again this season, as it was
now well advanced, and the hostile Indians would, in all probability,
occupy this territory till winter drove them back to their camp. A
dozen things might happen to our mine, even though we were fortunate
enough to escape the dangers that beset us. If my partner should become
disabled for active work, as most men at his age are apt to be, it was
doubtful if any man beside him could again locate the mine. I felt
that I could not, and now that Riley was gone, we two alone possessed
the knowledge of its existence and location. Again prospectors might
stumble upon it and take possession of it in our absence, and give us
no end of trouble, and so my mind conjured up one ill after another,
that might befall us and our financial prospects, lately so brilliant,
but now so obscured by portentous clouds.
We _cachéd_ our stock of provisions that we could not take along,
which was quite a liberal one; but decided to take all that we could
possibly accommodate on our raft. To guard against possible invasion
in our absence of several hours that we expected to be occupied in
constructing our raft, we carried our provisions intended for the
journey to some distance from the cabin toward the river, and hid them
carefully in some leaves and underbrush, till we should return. Then we
took all our little store of tools and our rather respectable arsenal,
consisting of three Winchester rifles and six heavy pistols, with a
good supply of ammunition, which, with axes and augers, made a heavy
load. We crept along as stealthily as panthers, Callaway leading and
I following him closely, feeling wild thrills of excitement like the
mental intoxication experienced by a boy when taking a daring leap from
a cross-beam in a barn to the heap of straw below, or his dizzy flight
down an icy hillside on a sled.
With a degree of accuracy that seemed to me like the workings of a
sixth sense, Uncle Abner shaped his course in the dark so well that
we found our destination without trouble, and proceeded to light a
lantern within the hut he had made, and fell to work in earnest to
prepare our rude craft by laying the poles together and fastening them
by cross-timbers, to which each pole was pinned. We agreed that if our
raft could just be got to hold together till we were safely afloat, and
out of range of the hostiles, we could further strengthen it later on,
by more crossties and doweling pins.
We worked as rapidly as the disadvantages of darkness, and as
stealthily as the nature of our task allowed, till we judged by the
constellations of the heavens that it was about an hour past midnight,
when our crude float was ready to be launched. Then we climbed again
to the region of our late abiding place, where we had concealed our
provisions, and found them undisturbed. I could hardly resist an
impulse to visit the cabin once more, but prudence forbade it, for our
time was precious, to say nothing of taking the additional risk, and I
hastened away with the unerring guide, who conducted us to our place
of embarking, made such provision as we could for the safety of our
cargo, shoved our raft into the stream, and stepped upon it, and began
a voyage that in eventfulness was to cast all our former exploits, and
present difficulties in deep shade.
Abner had provided a rude steering oar or rudder, and propelling oars,
but for the present he advised that we should simply drift noiselessly
with the tide, rather than run the chances of attracting the attention
of the Indians by the splash of our oars, for, said he, “they’ll more’n
likely be campin’ along the river here. It’s lucky for us there’s no
moon.”
It was a clear night, and the stars afforded just enough light to
enable us to dimly discern the outlines of the shore on either hand,
and Callaway steered our raft as close to the farther shore as he might
venture to do in the dark, to guard against detection. We had floated
down perhaps a mile, when a dog set up a loud barking on the hostile
shore, right opposite to us. “Sh!” whispered Abner, “that’s the camp of
the Piute fiends now.”
The dog continued to bark furiously, and we heard, or imagined we
heard, a murmur of guttural voices and expected every moment to hear
their diabolical yell, and to be greeted with a volley of rifle balls.
We were so still that our hearts seemed to rebel against the decree of
silence and kept up a terrible thumping. “If they see us now we have a
pretty narrow chance,” whispered Abner. “We are in a strange country,
and they know every nook and corner in it. I’ve often thought that when
they do take a notion to prowl in the dark, they can expand their eyes
like a cougar, and see objects that are as impossible to our vision as
their camp is now.”
But as we drifted on and no outcry was made except the persistent
yelping of the cur, we began to hope that we had passed unobserved, and
presently the dog seemed himself to despair of attracting any attention
and gave over the attempt. Silence and darkness were again our only
companions. “Two o’clock and all’s well!” I whispered. “We are safely
past their camp by this time, are we not?”
“Yes,” replied Abner, “they didn’t hear us. We gave ’em enough exercise
to make ’em sleep sound, but there may be other hunting squads down
below farther, and it stands us in hand to keep a sharp lookout.” But
nothing further occurred to give us alarm during the little space
that darkness continued. When day dawned we were rowing lustily down
the Gunnison for we knew that if the Indians returned to the attack
in the morning they would soon discover that we had decamped, and, as
the Piutes are expert trailers, they would have no trouble in tracking
us to the shore where they would read as an open book, the signs of
our departure, the method of our conveyance, and be able even to tell
almost to the hour how long it had been since we had embarked; and
being mounted, they would gallop down the river after us and employ our
own horses in overtaking and destroying us.
The only form of attack we feared particularly in case they did follow
us, was that of an ambuscade. To be haunted by the uncomfortable
suggestion that you may be gliding right into their trap, that at any
moment, from behind a tree or rock along the shore may come a volley of
leaden death, sends a cold chill through the spinal marrow, and awakens
a vague impulse to leap from the raft, and take refuge from the hidden
enemy beneath the surface of the river. To guard against surprise, we
now kept our boat in mid-current and urged her on with the oars till
we reached a speed that we knew would tax the speed of the mounted
Indians, through a broken country, to overtake us with our leeway.
But no further indications of Indians disturbed us, and our appetites
were sharpened by an all-night’s effort to turn night into day; but
we were compelled to content ourselves with munching a cold slapjack,
promising ourselves, that if no enemy appeared by noon, we would land
and cook a sumptuous meal and enjoy a more elaborate _menu_.
The wild scenery through which we were passing was a source of
wondering pleasure to me, whose ideas of natural scenery were gained
from city parks, pretty enough in their way, but tame, absolutely flat,
compared with nature’s exhibition of her power and grandeur here. This
was to me an entirely new class of scenery, the element of sublimity
being strongest.
For three days we drifted down the river, tying up at night and camping
on the shore, and after the first day we ventured to kill a deer, which
animals were plentiful, and forgot our late privations in feasting on
venison, which Abner was an expert at broiling on the embers of a camp
fire.
On the third day he began to recognize familiar objects along the
river, and announced that we should arrive at the place he had in mind
before night, and be able to sleep in a castle that would relieve us
of all uneasiness on account of Indians. The river banks began to be
precipitous and rocky, and to be suggestive of caverns and freebooters,
or the natural home of the Cliff Dwellers, and when Abner, the son
of Ner, at last pointed out our prospective stronghold, it seemed
the realization of all that I had read and imagined of the lost race
that had been driven away by pressure of circumstances, apparently
to adopt these dismal but impregnable rock dwellings that perforate
like swallows’ nests the walls of the canyons and river bluffs of the
southwest.