The next morning we had an early breakfast and were on our journey in
good season. Nothing of interest occurred to us until we reached where
the city of Reno now stands, which is in the western part of what is now
the state of Nevada.
We were about to go into camp on the bank of the Truckee river when I
looked off to the north and saw a band of Indians, and they were heading
directly for the train.
They were probably a mile away from us when I saw them. I reported to
Jim at once, and he was not long in corralling the train, and he made
the largest display of scalps that I had ever seen then or ever have
since. It looked as if every wagon had a scalp hanging on it.
Apparently the Indians did not notice the decorations on the wagons
until they were within three or four hundred yards of them, and the
sight seemed to take them by surprise.
[Illustration: Fishing with the girls.]
All at once the whole band stopped, and of all the actions ever an
Indian performed that band did it. Jim said, "Will, do you think you can
reach them with your rifle?"
I answered that I thought not at that distance, but I said, "My men and
I will get nearer to them and give them a scare anyway."
I called my scouts to follow me out to a little bunch of timber, and we
all fired at them at once. Whether we hit any Indians or not I never
knew, for they wheeled their horses and fled, and if any of them were
killed or wounded the others did not leave them, and we saw no more of
that band, but they left three horses laying on the ground, which showed
us that our bullets had done a little execution.
We now settled into camp for the night. Jim told the emigrants as it was
Saturday evening we would lay over here until Monday morning, and he
told them that all who liked to have a good time fishing could enjoy
themselves to their hearts' content, for this stream was full of
Mountain Trout, and he added, "They are beauties."
Both men and women asked what kind of bait to use to catch them. We told
them that grass hoppers or crickets was good bait for Mountain Trout,
and both of these insects were numerous around the camp.
It was very amusing to me to see the girls run to their mothers to ask
if they could go fishing the next day. They were as excited as if they
were asking to go to some great entertainment.
It being Sunday morning and as there was no danger from the Indians, I
did not get up very early. Jim and I occupied the same tent together,
which was the blue sky above us and the ground beneath us, a bed that I
have no doubt the reader will think a not very desirable one, but rolled
in our blankets, a bed on the soft moss with the trees waving over us
was as good a bed as Jim and I cared to have, and our sleep was as sound
and restful as if we were laying on a bed of down.
When Jim arose in the morning, he gave me a shake and said, "Wake up,
Will. We are going to have fish, for everyone in the camp is hunting
grass hoppers," and it was really an amusing sight to see, for everyone,
as Jim had said, was running, trying to catch grass hoppers. Both men
and women were racing about like children.
Jim and I had started to go to the river to take a wash when a little
girl came running to us saying, "Papa wants you to come and eat
breakfast with us, for we have got fish for breakfast."
Jim said, "All right, sissy, but I am afraid you haven't got enough fish
to go around."
She said, "Oh yes we have, for papa caught fifteen this morning, and
they are all great big ones."
So we did not go to the river but went with the little girl to her
father's tent and washed there, and sure enough, there was enough fish
for all the family and Jim and me and some left over.
The man laughed and said to Jim, "Mr. Bridger, you made the right remark
when you said that the river was full of fish. I have been fishing all
my life, and I never saw so many fish at one time as I saw this morning.
I went down to the river about daylight, and I caught fifteen fish, and
I don't think I was over fifteen minutes in catching them, and I believe
they will average two pounds to a fish, and they are as luscious as I
ever tasted in the way of fish."
I asked him if this was his first experience in eating Mountain Trout.
He said it was, but he hoped it would not be his last, and said, "Can
you tell me why they have such an extra flavor?" I said, "Certainly,
I can. There is no stream in the world that has purer water than the
Truckee river, and do you see that snowcapped mountain yonder?" and I
pointed to a mountain at the south west of us which was always covered
with snow at the top. "This stream is surrounded with mountains like
that, and the water is cold the year around, no matter how hot the
weather may be, and that is the secret of the fine flavor of the fish
caught in it."
And here I must say that, although I had eaten Mountain Trout many times
before that morning, I never enjoyed a meal more than I did this one. As
I finished eating, six young girls came to the tent and asked me if I
was going fishing. I said I had thought of going. They asked if they
could go with me, I said, "Certainly, you can if you wish to, but I
shall have to go out and hunt some bait before I can go."
One of them said, "We have enough grass hoppers to last us all day, and
we will share them with you for bait."
I answered, "Well, we will go up the river a little ways to those rocks
yonder," and I pointed up the stream.
When we got opposite the rocks which were in the middle of the stream, I
helped each of the girls to a place by herself and then took a place on
a rock myself, but I could not do anything for laughing at the girls. I
told them they would scare all the fish out of the river. In a moment
one of the girls caught a fish on her hook, but he struggled so hard
that she could not pull him out of the water, and she cried for me to
come and help her to land him. I got to her as quickly as I could and
took the fish out of the water, and it was the largest trout I had ever
seen, and I did not wonder the girl could not land him, for he made a
brave fight for liberty, and it was all I could do to capture him.
By this time it was a sight to look up and down the stream and see
the people that were fishing. Men, women and children, old and young,
seeming to be perfectly happy and to be having the time of their lives.
In about an hour they began to realize that more fish were being caught
than they could take care of, so everyone gathered their catch and went
back to camp. Some of the emigrants estimated that three thousand fish
had been caught that day by the entire crowd. I think the most of the
people had fish until they were tired of it. For the next two days we
had fish for every meal served in every way that fish could be cooked.
Monday morning we pulled out from this camp bright and early for Honey
Lake. We made the trip in two days, which was as we considered very good
time, and we did not see an Indian on the way or a fresh sign of them.
When we reached Honey Lake and saw that there were no signs of Indians
there Jim said to me that there would be no more trouble with the
Indians, and if we could convince the emigrants of this fact we need not
go further with them.
I told him I did not think it would be best to mention to the emigrants
any change in the contract we had made with them when we started on
the trip, that we had better go on with the train until we crossed the
Sierra Nevada Mountains, as we had engaged to do.
Jim thought it over a few minutes, and then he said, "I guess you are
right, Will, for they might think we wanted to shirk our duty in leaving
them here, although I am sure there will be no more danger to guard them
from."
Everything moved on without anything to interfere with our progress
for the next four days, and by that time we had crossed the top of the
Sierra Nevada Mountains.
After we had eaten our supper the night after crossing on the other side
of the mountains, Jim shouted that he wanted to talk to everybody for
just a few minutes, and in a few minutes all the people of the train,
men, women, and children, were around us thick.
Jim then said to them, "I wanted to speak to you together to tell you
that all danger to this train is passed, there will be no more Indians
to molest you, and you are perfectly safe to continue on your journey
without fear of being troubled by them. Tomorrow night we will camp in
the Sacramento Valley, and being sure that we can leave you in perfect
safety, our contract with the people of this train will be closed, and
we will leave you the next morning. There is one thing I am sorry for,
though, and that is we can't furnish any more music for a farewell dance
with the ladies before we leave them."
This joke created a laugh all around and brightened the faces of the
older people, for we had shared in and protected them from too many
dangers for the thought of separation from us not to sadden the faces of
the older members of the train.
Mr. Tullock, one of the committee, got upon a chair and said, "I want to
ask if there is a person here in this company can realize what these two
men have done for us in the seven weeks they have been with us. I for
one know for a certainty that if we had not met them, and they had not
accompanied us on the dangerous journey we have almost finished, not one
of this large company would have been alive today. I will acknowledge
that I have no doubt that all the rest of you thought them to be
barbarians when they took the scalps off those first Indians' heads, but
the events that followed showed their knowledge of their business
and also of our ignorance in Indian warfare for that what we thought
barbarism was the means of saving some, if not all our lives. Now I will
tell you what I propose doing. I am going to write a recommendation for
each one of these men, and I want every one of you to sign it."
It sounded as if every one in the crowd said at once, "I'll sign it."
When Mr. Tullock stepped down, Jim took his place on the chair and
said to the people, "I want you all to distinctly understand that Will
Drannan and myself do not think we have done anything but our duty to
the people of this train, and I want to thank all the men that have
helped me to protect the train when the savages were upon us. You all
showed that you were brave men and willing to obey orders, which, I will
tell you now, is a rare thing among so many men, and Will tells me that
he had the best men as scouts to help him that he has ever had, that
everyone tried to do his duty. So it seems to me that we have all done
our best to make the journey a success. Now let us get away from here
early in the morning, for I want to reach our camping ground in good
season tomorrow evening. We have quite a long drive before us tomorrow,
but as good luck is on our side it is all downhill."
We got an early start in the morning, and we landed at our camping place
about four o'clock in the evening, and I think there were as many as
twenty invited us to take supper with them that night. The last one was
from four young girls, who came to us together. One of them told Jim
that she wanted him and Mr. Drannan to come to their tent right away, as
supper was waiting. Jim answered that we didn't want any supper but told
her that if she would invite us to breakfast next morning and would
promise there would be enough to eat to fill us both for three or four
days, we would be glad to come and eat.
She answered, "All right, Mr. Bridger, I will get up before day and get
to cooking, so I shall be sure and have enough for you at least."
Jim and I now went to the tent of the people who had invited us first,
as had been our custom all through the journey. These were elderly
people who had one son and one daughter, both grown to man and
womanhood. While we were at supper the older woman asked how much bread
we could carry with us. Jim said we would like enough to last us three
or four days, and he thought three loaves like the ones on the spread
would be enough.
She said, "Why, Mr. Bridger, everybody is making bread, and cooking meat
for you to take with you."
Jim said, "Why, my good woman, we can kill all the meat we want as we
need it, and three loaves of bread is all we can carry on our horses
with our other stuff."
The first thing in the morning the girls we had promised to eat
breakfast with were after us to come to their tent, and we found a fine
meal waiting for us.
Jim said, "Now ladies, you know that in going back, Will and I have to
go over a very dangerous road, and we won't have time to cook in the
next three or four days, so we calculate to eat enough to last us till
we get to the Sink of the Humboldt, and that will take us three or four
days, so in our accepting your invitation to take our last breakfast on
this trip with you we may make you twice glad."
The elder woman smiled and told the girls they had better be frying some
more meat. Jim looked around the spread and told the girls he guessed
they had better wait till we had eaten what was before u, before they
cooked more, and there certainly was enough food before us for as many
more as sat around it, and although it was spread on a cloth laid on the
ground, I have never partaken of a breakfast served on the finest table
that tasted as good as that one did that morning.
We had almost finished eating when the elder lady said, "Girls, pass
that cake around."
Jim said, "Is there cake too? I'm not used to eating cake, only on
Sunday mornings, and this is Saturday."
I told the girls that Jim hadn't seen any cake since we left Fort
Kerney, and that if she wanted any left for themselves they had better
not pass the plate. She answered, "There is aplenty, and I have a great
big cake for you to take to eat on the road."
Jim said, "That won't do at all, for Will will want to stay in camp all
the time and eat cake until it is all gone."
As soon as breakfast was over, we caught our horses and began packing.
We each had two saddle horses, and we had one pack horse between us.
When we were leading up our horses, Jim said, "This is the worst job of
all, for all these women have a lot of grub cooked for us to take along,
and plagued take it, we have no room on the pack horses to put it. What
shall we do?"
I said, "We will take what we can pack, Jim, and we can thank the ladies
for their kindness, and tell them we are sorry we can't take all they
would give us, and then we can mount and be off."
Jim said, "That sounds easy."
When we were packing, sure enough, every one of the elder women and some
of the girls brought something for us to take with us to eat. Jim told
them that we were a thousand times obliged to them all, but we could not
take anything but a few loaves of bread, and then, as was usual, in his
joking way he said with a glance at me, "I know, Will feels bad to leave
that cake, and he will dream of seeing cakes for a week, but I can't
indulge him this time."
When Jim had done speaking, one of the girls, that we had taken
breakfast with handed him a small sack, and told him not to open it
until we camped that night. At this moment Mr. Tullock, came to us and
said, "Here, my friends, is a recommendation, and I think every grown
person in the train has signed their name to both of them, and all the
company have asked me to say a few words for them. If either or both of
you ever come to California, we want you to find some of us and make
your home with us as long as you wish, for you will always find a warm
welcome with any of this company."
I had been acquainted with Jim Bridger several years and this was the
first time I had ever seen him overcome with feeling. His voice shook so
he could hardly thank the people for their kind words and when it came
to shaking hands and biding them good bye, he almost lost his speech.
But it was over at last and we mounted our horses and left them. For
the first ten miles I don't think Jim spoke ten words. Finally he said,
"Well they were a good crowd of people, weren't they Will? If I ever go
to California and can find any of them, I mean to stay all night with
them, for it would be like visiting brother or sister."
We now began to calculate where we should camp that night. I said,
"Let's make a dry camp tonight, we can fill our canteen, and water our
horses at a stream that crosses the trail, and then we can ride on till
dark. In doing this way we will avoid the Indians and will not have to
guard against them in the night, for the Indians invariably camp near
the water."
We made a long ride that day and picked a nice place to camp that night.
As soon as we had unsaddled and unpacked our horses, I said, "Jim, I
will stake the horses if you will make a fire." When I came back from
attending to the horses, Jim said, "Look here, Will, see what them girls
gave me, but I guess they meant it for you."
And he showed me the sack which the girls had given him as we were
leaving them that morning. I looked into it and saw two large cakes and
a good-sized piece of roasted Elk calf. The reader may imagine how good
this nice food looked to two hungry men, and we surely did justice to
it. When we were eating, Jim made the remark that it would be many a
long day before we met with such a company again as those we had left
that morning. He said, "In nearly all large companies there are cranks,
either men or women, and sometimes both, but all that outfit were
perfect ladies and gentlemen, and they all seemed to want to do what was
right, and the men were all brave and the women were sensible."
The next morning we pulled out early, and we made good progress for five
days, making dry camps every night. Nothing occurred to disturb us until
we reached the Sink of the Humboldt. Here were Indian signs in every
direction. We knew we would be in the heart of the Ute country for the
next hundred miles, so we decided to do our traveling in the night and
lay over and rest in the daytime.
We picked our camping places off the trail, where we thought the Indians
would not be likely to discover us. The second night after we left the
Sink of the Humboldt, we crossed a little stream called Sand Creek, and
just off to the right of the trail we saw what we thought must have been
five hundred Indians in camp. Most of them were laying around asleep,
but a few were sitting at the fire smoking, and we succeeded in riding
past them without their noticing us. After we had got entirely away from
their camp fires, Jim said, "Will, we are the luckiest chaps that ever
crossed the plains, for if them Indians had seen us, they would have
filled our hides full of arrows just to get our horses, and I think we
had better keep on traveling in the night until we strike Black's Fork,
then we will be pretty near out of the Utes country."
When we got to Lone Tree on Black's Fork we lay over one day to let our
horses rest and to get rested ourselves.
It was a little before sunrise that morning when we reached Lone Tree. I
said to Jim, "Are you hungry?" He replied that he was too hungry to tell
the truth.
I answered, "All right, you take care of the horses, and I will get an
Antelope and we will have a fine breakfast."
Jim said, "Well, don't disappoint me, Will, for I am in the right shape
to eat a half an Antelope."
I took my gun and went up on a little ridge and looked over, and not a
quarter of a mile from me I saw a large band of Antelope, and I saw that
they were feeding directly towards me. I hid myself in a little bunch of
sage brush and waited until they fed up to within fifty yards of me. I
then fired and brought down a little two-year-old buck. I took him up,
threw him over my shoulder, and went back to Camp as fast as I could go.
When I reached there, Jim had a fire burning, and in a few minutes we
had the meat cooking. Jim made the remark that we had enough to do to
keep us busy all day, for when we were not eating, we must be sleeping,
for he was about as hungry as he ever was and so sleepy that he did not
dare to sit down for fear he would fall asleep without his breakfast.
After we had enjoyed a very hearty meal of meat and bread, for we ate
the last piece of bread that the ladies had given us that morning, we
smoked our pipes a few moments, and then we spread our blankets on the
ground under the only tree in ten miles of us, and we were soon lost to
everything in a sleep that lasted until near night. I did at least. When
I awoke I found Jim cooking meat for supper. When he saw that I was
awake, he said, "Come, Will, get up. We have had our sleep. Now we will
have our supper."
While we were eating, I asked Jim if we could make Green River tomorrow.
He said, "Yes, we must get out of here tomorrow morning by daylight.
Our horses will be well rested as we ourselves will be. We want to make
Green River tomorrow night and Rock Springs the next night. I consider
it is about eighty miles to Rock Springs from here, and we ought to make
it in two days."
The next morning we were up bright and early and were on our journey as
soon as we could see the trail. Nothing happened to disturb us, and we
reached Green River just before sunset. We crossed the river and went
into camp just above the Ford. We had just got our horses staked out
when we heard whips snapping and people's voices shouting.
Jim listened a moment and said, "What in thunder does that mean?"
I answered, "I think it is an emigrant train coming." Jim said, "By
jove if that is so, we will have to move from here and stake our horses
somewhere else, for no doubt they will want to camp right here, and if
there is much of a train, they will take all the room in this little
valley."
In a few minutes they hove in sight. Jim said, "Now, let's get to one
side and see if they have any system about their camping, and then we
will know whether it is worth while for us to apply for a job or not."
They did not seem to know that they were near a river by the way they
acted. Some of them would leave their wagons and run down to the stream
and run back again and talk with the others. Finally they discovered Jim
and me, and about twenty of the men came to where we were sitting. We
had started a fire and were waiting for it to get hot enough to cook our
meat for our supper, and it was certainly very amusing to watch their
faces. They looked at us as if they thought us wild men. We learned
afterwards that they had never seen anyone dressed in Buck Skin before.
After staring at us a while, one of them, an old man, said, "Where in
creation are you two men from?"
Jim answered, "We have just come from Sacramento Valley, California."
And did you come all the way alone?
Jim answered, "Yes sir, we did."
"Did you see any Indians?" he inquired.
Jim said, "Yes, about a thousand, I think."
"Did they try to kill you?"
"Oh, no," Jim said. "They were asleep when we saw them."
"Why, they told us back at Fort Kerney that the Indians never slept day
or night," the old man said.
Jim answered that they slept a little at night sometimes, and that was
the time we took to travel. We had traveled nearly all the way from
California to this place after night, and in some places where we
traveled over, the Indians were as thick as jack rabbits.
One of the men then inquired when we went to California.
Jim answered, "We left Fort Kerney about eight weeks ago and piloted
the biggest train of emigrants across the plains that has ever gone to
California, and we did not lose a person or a head of stock, but we got
a good many Indian scalps on the way."
One of the men then said, "Ain't you Jim Bridger and Will Drannan that
the commander at the Fort told us about?"
Jim replied, "That is who we are."
One of them then asked if we would pilot another train to California.
Jim answered, "I don't know. The Indians are getting so dog goned thick
that there is no fun in the job, but you folks go and get your supper,
and let us eat ours. We are dog goned hungry, for we haven't had a bite
since day-break this morning. You can come back here after supper, and
we will talk to you."
By this time there must have been a hundred men standing around us, but
when Jim told them that we wanted to eat our supper, they all scattered.
After they had left us, Jim said, "You get supper, Will, and I will go
and see whether there is any system about this outfit or not, and if
supper is ready before I get back, don't wait for me, for I may not get
back in half an hour or more."
I had got my meat on the fire and was just making the coffee when a
number of women, I should think about a dozen of them, came near me and
stopped and gazed at me. I bid them good evening and asked them to have
supper with me. One of them answered, "No, I came to ask you to come and
eat supper with us. My father sent me to invite you."
I thanked her and told her that as my own supper was nearly ready, I
would eat at my own camp. I had taken my Buck-skin coat off and laid it
on our pack. One of the women asked me if she could look at it. I told
her that she could if she wished to.
While they were looking at the coat and exclaiming over its beauty (it
was heavily embroidered with beads and porcupine quills, and was an odd
looking garment to one not accustomed to seeing the clothing of the
frontiers men), a couple of girls came running to me, saying, "Father
wants you to come and eat supper with us, Mr. Bridger is eating now." So
I took the meat and coffee off the fire and put my coat on and went with
them. When I got in speaking distance of Jim, I said, "I thought you
told me to cook supper." Jim answered, "I know I did Will, but we didn't
have any fried onions, and these folks have, so I thought we would eat
here and save our supper."
The people all laughed at Jim being so saving, and then the old man
asked what we would charge to pilot the train through to California. Jim
asked, "How many wagons have you in this outfit?"
He answered that he was not sure, but he thought there were about a
hundred and thirty-five.
"How many men are there in the train?" The old man said, "Oh, dog gone
it, I can't tell."
Jim said, "Have you got no Captain?"
The old man answered, "Why no, we haven't any use for a Captain."
Jim then said, "Well, I don't suppose they have any use for a commander
over at the Fort then. Suppose the Indians should make an attack on them
over there, and there was no Commander there, what do you think the
soldiers would do? I will tell you what would happen. The most of the
soldiers would be scalped, and it is the same way with a train of
emigrants if the Indians attack them and they have no leader or what we
call a Captain; they will all be scalped and in a mighty short time too.
Now you call the men together and come to our camp, and we will talk
this matter over, and then we will see if we can make a bargain with the
crowd."
In a few minutes it seemed as if all the men and women of the train were
standing around our camp.
Jim said to them, "I want some man who is a good reader to read this
letter to the company."
And he held up one of the letters of recommendation given us by the
people of the train we had left a few days before. A middle-aged man
came forward and said, "I reckon I can read it; I am a school teacher by
profession, and I am used to reading all kinds of handwriting."
He took the letter, stepped up on a log and in a clear, loud voice read
it to the company. After he had finished reading it, the man handed the
letter back to Jim with the remark that it was a fine recommendation and
gave a character few men could claim.
Jim now told the emigrants that before we took charge of a train he
always had the men of the train select a committee from their number,
and this committee had the entire charge of the business in making
arrangements with us and all other matters that might take place on the
trip. "Now if you want us to pilot this train across to California, get
together and select your committee, and they can come to us and we will
talk business."
It was now nearly eleven o'clock at night, so Jim told the people that
we had traveled a long distance that day and were very tired, and he
thought we had better not make any bargain that night. We would go to
our rest, and in the morning they could tell us what they had decided
on. Next morning Jim and I were up very early, and so were the most of
the emigrants. We were building a fire to get our breakfast when one of
the emigrants came to us and invited us to take breakfast with him. He
said there had been a committee selected, that the men talked the matter
over after they left us the night before, and they chose five men to
make arrangements with us. "But as we did not go to bed until nearly
morning, I don't think they are all up yet," he said, smiling.
We went with him and found breakfast waiting for us. After we had
finished, two of the men came to us and said they were two of the five
who had been appointed to do business with us, and that the other three
would meet us at our camp in a few minutes. So Jim and I went back to
our camp, and in a very short time the five men were with us. One of
them asked us how much we would charge to pilot them to California. Jim
said, "How many wagons have you?"
He said, "We have ninety here now, and there will be twenty more here by
noon."
Jim asked, "How many men are there in the company?" They said they did
not know for certain but thought there would be about a hundred and
ninety. Jim said that we would take them across to California for five
dollars a day, which would be two dollars and a half for each of us.
"Providing you will promise to obey our orders in all things pertaining
to the protection of the train and also give us two days to drill the
teamsters and the scouts, but we will have to move on one day from here,
as there is no ground here that is fit to drill on."
One of the committee said, "We will give you an answer in twenty
minutes," and they went back to their camp, which was a hundred yards or
more from ours. Jim and I caught our horses and were saddling them when
the committee came back to us and told us we could consider ourselves
engaged.
I now spoke for the first time, Jim having done all the talking before.
I said, "I want you men to select ten good men who own their horses. I
prefer young men who are good horsemen, for I want them to assist me in
doing scout work."
This seemed to surprise the men. One of them asked, what the young men
would have to do. Jim now spoke up in his joking way and said, "They
will find enough to do before we get to California. For example I will
show you what Will and his scouts have done on our last trip across." At
the same time he was untying the sack that held the Indian scalps we had
taken on our last trip to California. When he emptied the sack it
was amusing to us to see their faces. Their first expression was of
surprise, and the next was of horror. Jim took up one of the scalps and
shook it out and said, "Taking these is one of the things you young men
may have to do," and he continued, "These scalps which seem to give you
men the horrors to look at now, will be worth more than money to all the
people of this train, for they will save the lives of all of you, and
that is more than money could do in an attack by the Indians."
Some of the men wanted to know in what way the scalps would save them.
Jim answered, "Let us get on the road to our next camping ground, and I
will explain everything in regard to the protection of the train when we
get to drilling."
In a short time every thing was on the move, and we reached our place
to camp about four o'clock in the afternoon. Jim commenced to put the
numbers on the wagons as soon as we landed in camp in order to get to
drilling as early as possible in the morning. We had been in camp but a
short time when one of the committee men came to me and said, "We have
selected your men, Mr. Drannan. Come out, and I will introduce them to
you, and you can see if they would suit you, and if they do, you can
tell them what you want them to do."
We went outside the corral, and we found the ten men there with their
horses. I asked them if they all had rifles and pistols. They said they
had. I next asked them if they had ever practiced shooting off their
horses' backs, and they all said no, nor had ever heard of such a way
of shooting. I then said, "Now boys, it is too late in the evening to
commence practicing, but I want you all to meet me here after breakfast
in the morning, and have your horses and guns and pistols with you, and
you may make up your mind to do a hard day's work tomorrow."
That evening Jim and I had a talk by ourselves in regard to how much
time we should take to drill the men. Jim said, "Will, do you think you
can drill your men in one day so they will know enough to risk starting
out day after tomorrow?"
I answered, "I think I can, Jim."
He thought a moment and then said, "I don't like to hurry you in
training your men, Will, but you know it is getting late in the season,
and we have a long road to travel after we get these emigrants through
to California in order to get back home to Taos before the winter sets
in, and I have no doubt Kit will be looking for us long before we get
there."
I said, "Jim, this will be my last trip as a pilot for emigrants."
Jim laughed and answered, "I thought this kind of business just suited
you, Will, for you are a favorite with the girls, especially when you
bring in scalps."
I answered, "The girls are all right, Jim, but there is too much
responsibility in such an undertaking, and besides, it is impossible to
suit everybody."
Jim answered, "There is a good deal of truth in what you say, Will. It
is not an easy job to please so many people all at once. We will hurry
this trip through as quick as possible and get them off our hands."
The next morning I was up early and met the men who were to be trained
to make scouts. We went to a little grove of timber about a quarter of
a mile from camp. I selected a small tree, probably a foot through,
dismounted and made a crossmark with my knife. I then asked the boys, if
they thought they could hit that cross with their guns or pistols with
their horses on the dead run. One of them said, "No, I don't know as I
could hit it with my horse standing still."
I answered, "But that is just what I must teach you to do if you are
ever to make a scout to guard against Indians or fight them. I will
mount my horse and go back to that little bunch of brush," and I pointed
to a bunch of brush that was perhaps a little more than a hundred yards
from the tree, "and all of you men follow me."
When we reached the brush, I turned my horse's head towards the tree I
had marked, and I then said, "Now boys, I am going to put my horse down
to his best speed, and I want you all to follow me and keep as close to
me as you can, and each man look out for his own horse when I commence
to shoot. At the same time keep your eyes on me, for I want each one
of you to take his turn in doing as I do, and I want you to repeat the
thing until you can hit the mark as I shall do."
I now started my horse at full speed, and before I had got to the tree
I had fired my second shot, and both balls struck near the cross, but I
was surprised, and I will not deny also amused, to see the way the boys
were trying to stop their horses; they were running in every direction
and appeared to be nearly frightened to death, and apparently their
riders had no control over them, but finally they checked them and rode
back to where I stood.
I said, "Boys, you certainly have your horses trained to run from the
Indians if you can't stop to fight them."
One of the boys said, "I never saw my horse act the fool as he has done
today."
I said, "Now, which one of you are going to try it again first? Don't
all speak at once."
It was some minutes before anyone answered. At last one of them said, "I
will try it. Shall we all come down together as we did with you?"
I told him, "No, I want you to all to try it single-handed once and then
we will try it in groups of three, but if you are afraid you cannot
manage your horse, I will ride beside you."
He answered, "No, I have got to break him in to it, and I might as well
do it at the start."
So the others got out of his way, and he rode to the brush, wheeled his
horse, put the spurs to him and came at full speed. When within fifty
feet of the tree he fired his rifle and missed the tree but pulled
his pistol and made a good shot, and he did not have much trouble in
stopping his horse this time.
When he rode back to us, I showed him the hole where the bullet struck
it and told him he had done exceptionally well.
He said, "Can't I give it another trial?"
I said, "Not now. Best let everyone have a try first."
I saw that they were a little encouraged by the first one's success, so
I said, "Who comes next?"
One of them said, "I reckon it is me next," and he was on his horse in
a twinkle and off for the brush. This man was in a little too much of a
hurry; he shot too soon and missed the tree, which scared his horse, and
he turned and ran in an opposite direction, and the rider had all he
could do to attend to him so he did not fire his pistol at all. When he
came back the boys had a laugh on him.
He said, "All right, see that the balance of you does better."
They all gave it a trial, and out of the ten men only three hit the mark
with either rifle or pistol. Before we got through practicing, there
must have been as many as a hundred men from the camp watching the
performance. After each man had tried singly, I formed them in squads of
three, and they were more successful that way than they were alone from
the fact that their horses were getting used to the report of the guns.
The reader will understand that the drilling was done more for the
benefit of the horses than it was for the men, for many times if the
horses were unmanageable when in a fight with the Indians, the rider was
in a great deal more danger of being killed than he would have if he
could manage his horse.
As it was getting near noon I called it off until after dinner. When we
were near the corral going back to camp, I pointed to a large log that
was laying on the ground and told the boys to meet me there on foot,
and I would put them through another kind of a drill, which was more
essential for them to know than the one we had been practicing. One of
them said, "What can it be?"
I answered, "It is to learn to signal to each other without speaking
when you are in danger."
After dinner I had a talk with Jim in regard to how he was succeeding in
drilling his teamsters. He said they were doing fine and would be ready
to pull out in the morning. He said, "Will, these are not such people to
handle as the last train we drilled."
I said, "What makes you think so, Jim?"
He answered, "There are a few in this outfit who do not believe there
will be trouble with the Indians."
I answered, "Well, Jim, these are of the class that will not obey
orders, and they will get the worst of it, and no one can blame us."
When I went to meet the boys, they were all standing or sitting on the
fallen tree, waiting for me. I asked if they had ever heard a Coyote
howl. They said not until they heard them on this trip. Then I explained
to them, that the Indians were so used to hearing the Coyotes howl
that they took no notice of that kind of a noise day or night, so we
frontiers-men always used the bark or howl of a Coyote as a signal to
call each other together in times of danger. I then gave a howl that the
boys said no Coyote could beat, and in a couple of hours I had them all
drilled so they could mimic the Coyotes very well.
We went back to camp, got our horses, and put in the afternoon in
shooting at targets on horse back. Before we separated that evening, I
told the men what position I wanted each one of them to take when the
train was ready to move in the morning. I also told them they must
always meet me at the head of the train before we started the train
every morning to get their instructions for the day. Every one of the
ten seemed to be willing and ready to obey everything I asked them to
do.