THE YOUNG TRAIL HUNTERS;
OR, THE WILD RIDERS OF THE PLAINS.
THE VERITABLE ADVENTURES OF HAL HYDE AND NED BROWN, ON THEIR
JOURNEY ACROSS THE GREAT PLAINS OF THE SOUTH-WEST.
BY
SAMUEL WOODWORTH COZZENS
1877
[Illustration: Prairie on Fire.]
TO THE READER.
From my youth up, no book ever fascinated me like one of travel and
adventure in Indian lands, where danger attends every step; and,
believing that the hair-breadth escapes of my young friends, Hal and Ned,
in crossing with me, the great plains of the South-West, a few years
since, will prove entertaining, as well as instructive, I have taken
great pleasure in recounting them.
The delineation of the habits, characteristics, and barbarous customs of
the savages, who, for centuries, have roamed over those vast plains, is
the result of my personal observation among these, now fast vanishing,
Indian tribes.
If this narrative proves a sufficient inducement for you to follow "THE
TRAIL HUNTERS," to the end, a future volume to be entitled "CROSSING THE
QUICKSANDS, OR HAL AND NED ON THE PACIFIC SLOPE," will acquaint you with
some of the startling adventures befalling my young friends, after
reaching their homes in the far west.
Hoping to merit your hearty commendation, I have the honor to subscribe
myself, THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
The Wild Mustangs.--Hal and Ned.--The Black and the Bay.--Manuel the
Herder.--The Mustang-breaker.--Life on a Stock Ranche.--A Sudden Start.--
On the Road.--The Lone Mule.--The Stampede.--Attacked by Comanches.
CHAPTER II.
Under the Wagons.--The Lost Stock.--Jerry Vance the Wagon-master.--His
Pluck is aroused.--We take the Trail.--The Comanche Camp.--A Surprise.--
The Result.--Visitors.--Cuchillo, the Comanche Chief.--The Missourians.
--The Arapahoe Guide.--The Farewell.
CHAPTER III.
The Return to Camp.--The Boys Missing.--A Search.--Treed.--The Wild
Mexican Hogs.--An Adventure.-The Combat.--The Release.--A Cry of
Distress.--An Ugly Customer--The Panther.--A Terrible Struggle.--
Victory.--Old Jerry wounded.--Camp at last.
CHAPTER IV.
Jerry's Story.--"Byse hain't got no Bizness on the Plains, nohow."--A
Hunting Expedition.--Antonio, the "Mustanger" of the Leona.--"Creasing" a
Wild Horse.--The Prairie-dog Town.--Wild Turkeys.--The Missing Boys.
Prisoners in the Hands of the Comanches.--The "Lingo" of the Plains.--The
Ransom and Rescue.--Dog Meat.
CHAPTER V.
Comanches in the Distance.--Attacked.--The Fight.--The Arapahoe Scout to
the Rescue.--Wounded.--Comanche Signals.--More Trouble.--The Ambuscade.--
A Night Attack.--A Mule killed.--Ned's first Indian.--"A'stonishin'
Boy."--Old Jerry's Pride.--Once more on the Road.
CHAPTER VI.
The Track in the Sand.--What made it.--A Lesson on Trailing.--What
constitutes a good Woodsman.--A Discovery.--Indians.--A Female Captive
To the Rescue.--Our Ride.--A Run for Life.--The Fight.--Death.--More
Hints about Trailing.--The Mexican.--Old Jerry's Observation.
CHAPTER VII.
The San Pedro.--An Antelope Hunt.--We strike a Fresh Trail.--An Attack of
"Buck Fever."--Hal a Victim.--I endeavor to comfort him.--A Promise.--The
Black-tailed Deer.--The Call and the Snake.--Another Attempt.--Defeated
by a Panther.--The Rio Pecos.--The Country through which it runs.--Old
Acquaintances in the Distance.--On a Bender.--Ned to the Rescue.--Old
Jerry's Bear Story.
CHAPTER VIII.
The Comanche War Trail.--A Visitor in Camp.--Hal loses his Pony.--An
Adventure with a Horse-thief.--Creeping Serpent.--Hints on Horse-stealing.
--Dust in the Distance. Hal recognizes his Pony.--A Good Shot.--
Its Effect.--The Prairie on Fire.--Imminent Peril.--Hard Work.--Comanche
Springs.--Fort Davis.--A Pretty Girl,--Patsey McQuirk.--Ned kills an
Antelope.--Don Ramon.--The Camp attacked.
CHAPTER IX.
Juanita captured.--A Brutal Murder.--Once more on the Trail.--We lose
it.--The Hide for Life.--Return to Camp.--The Messenger to the Fort.--
Terrible News.--The Dragoons in the Saddle.--Hal taken Prisoner.--Off for
El Paso.--We start for the Silver Mines.--The Cave.--Adventure with a
Bear.--The Mine.--What we saw.--We start for Fillmore.--Good News.
CHAPTER X.
Tom Pope the Scout.--His Report.--An Expedition planned.--Tom's Story.--
A Comanche Village.--The Prisoner.--A New Way of Cooking Steak.--Big
Eagle the Chief.--An Escape, and Pursuit.--Soldiers from the Fort.--Our
Expedition starts.--The Organos Mountains,--Ned's Adventure with a
Rattlesnake.--We strike the Trail and follow it.--Hard Riding.--A
Discovery.--Is it Comanche or Apache?--The Moccasin.
CHAPTER XI.
The Tell-tale, and what it said.--Jerry's Decision.--The Ride.--A
Reconnoissance.--The Indian Camp.--Military Rule.--A Happy Thought.--The
Rifle-shot.--The Rescue.--How Ned obeyed the Lieutenant's Orders.--On
the Rampage.--Hal on Hand.--The Spoils.--Rejoicings over Juanita's
Return.--What Tom says.--Ned wounded.--A Mountain Carriage.--Arrival at
the Fort.--The Little Gold Ring.--Good-bye, Juanita.--"Disrispict."--A
Fight.
CHAPTER XII.
Once more on the Road.--We cross the Rio Grande.--Mesilla.--Hal's
Purchase.--A False Alarm.--A Ludicrous Scene.--An Unexpected Arrival in
Camp.--Patsey's Adventure with the "Divil."--"That bar" again.--What
Jerry says.--An Unsuccessful Hunt.--A Startling Echo.--Apache Visitors.--
El Chico.--The Apache Chief.
CHAPTER XIII.
Mr. Mastin.--Mangas Colorado.--Cadette.--A Terrible Battle.--Hal begins
his Story of Apache Land.--An Interruption.--"The Bear's goned."--The
Pursuit.
CHAPTER XIV.
A Bear Hunt.--Patsey explains.--A Promise.--Continuation of Hal's Story.--
Warm Blood.--A Feast of Mule Meat.--The Mountain Cave.--A Punishment.--
Despair.--The Crack of a Rifle.--Liberty.--The Smoke Signal.--The Spy.--
The Two Eyes.--A Horrible Situation.--Relief at last.--A Dissertation on
Apaches.--Their Manners and Customs.--A Surprise.--A Desperate
Adventure.--Arrival at Apache Pass.--"Sooap."--An Attack.
CHAPTER XV.
The Herd in Danger.--We rally.--The Fight.--Death and Burial.--Patsey in
Trouble.--"Shnakes."--A Lively Dance for a "ded Mon."--Rocky Mountain
Sheep.--A Description of them.--The Wild Ox.--Not a Success as
_Lazadors_.--An Exciting Chase.--Tit for Tat.--The Boys worsted.--
Mountain Dew.--Patsey pronounces.--The Buckskin Suit.--The Old Mission.--
Arrival at Tucson.
CHAPTER XVI.
Hal's Trade.--The New Mule.--A Storm.--Patsey's Ride. A Laughable
Adventure.--We start at last.--The Pimo Indians.--Manners and
Manufactures.--A Duck Hunt.--"How they hoont Ducks in the ould
Counthry."--A Bath.--Arrive at Yuma.--Crossing the Desert.--Terrible
Suffering.--Carrizo Creek, and the "Thirst of the Gazelle."--Jerry's
Story.--Angels.--Arrival at San Diego.--Good News.--A Stock Ranche.--Mrs.
Hyde that is to be.--An Invitation from Old Jerry.
THE YOUNG TRAIL HUNTERS.
CHAPTER I.
"Boys, the mustangs will be up from the range this morning. Which of you
want to go down to the corral with me?"
"I do! I do!" exclaimed both in the same breath.
"I spoke first," cried Hal.
"No, you didn't; I spoke first myself," retorted Ned.
"I say you didn't," rejoined Hal.
Seeing that the dispute was likely to become a serious one, I interrupted
it by saying,--
"Well, boys, I'll settle the matter at once by taking you both with me.
In this way there'll be no chance for a quarrel."
"Hurrah! hurrah!" exclaimed Ned. "We can both go; ain't that nice?"
"But I spoke first, though," declared Hal. "Never mind which spoke first.
If either of you want to go with me, you must come now."
We immediately started towards the corral; but, before reaching it, I saw
the herd coming over the plain towards us, their heads high in air, as
though sniffing the morning breeze, their necks proudly arched, and long
manes and tails gracefully flowing to the wind, as they pranced and
gambolled along the high swell of land that marked the gentle descent to
the valley where we stood.
As soon as the boys discovered them, they went into raptures,
exclaiming,--
"Oh, what a big drove of horses! Whose are they? Are they all yours?
Can't I have one to ride? What are you going to do with them?" and a
hundred other questions, asked more rapidly than I could possibly find
opportunity to answer.
As the mustangs came nearer, and the boys began to distinguish more
clearly their elegant forms and beautiful color, they became greatly
excited, declaring loudly, that, if they could only have one of them to
ride, they should be perfectly happy.
I found great difficulty in so far repressing them, that they would not
frighten the herd which was now close to the enclosure; but finally
succeeded in keeping them quiet, by promising that each should have one
for his own.
When the last of the gang had passed into the corral and the gate was
shut, the boys mounted the wall, eager to select their ponies. This was
soon done: Hal choosing a beautiful black, and Ned deciding upon a
spirited blood-bay mare.
[Illustration: In Camp.]
Calling Manuel, the Mexican herder, I gave the requisite order, and he
entered the corral, lasso in hand. He stood for a moment, waiting his
opportunity, and then, swinging the rope gracefully over his head, the
noose dropped upon the neck of the black.
The instant she felt it touch, she lowered her head, in an endeavor to
throw it off; but Manuel anticipated the movement, and gently tightened
it; when, with a snort of defiance, she settled back on her haunches, as
though inviting him to a trial of strength.
After many and repeated failures, by the exercise of great patience and
skill, Manuel succeeded in separating her from the remainder of the herd,
and leading her into another and smaller enclosure.
And then commenced the contest with the bay. The herd had by this time
become very sensitive, and it was with great difficulty that Manuel
managed to cast his noose over the mare's head; and, even when this had
been accomplished, she seemed disposed to make him all the trouble
possible; but, after a long time, he obtained the mastery, and led her
out to share the fate of her black companion.
"Now, boys, you've got the ponies, what are you going to do with them?"
asked I.
"Do with 'em? Why, ride 'em, of course," answered Hal.
"I'd like to see some one ride mine, before I back her," remarked Ned.
"And so you shall," said I. "Come, Manuel, let's see you ride the bay."
First obtaining one end of the lasso, which still encircled her neck, he
made a turn around a stout post, which enabled him to bring her head so
perfectly under his control, that, with comparative ease, he made a loop
with his lasso around her lower jaw; then, leading her into the open
plain, he vaulted lightly upon her back.
The moment she felt his weight she uttered a scream of rage, and raised
herself upright upon her hind legs, standing so admirably poised that
Manuel was only able to retain his seat by clinging with both arms around
her neck. Unable to rid herself of her burden in this manner, she planted
her fore feet firmly on the earth, and elevated her hind legs high in the
air with great rapidity and fury, forcing the rider to turn quickly upon
her back and clasp his arms tightly around the barrel of her body,
bracing his toes against the point of her fore shoulders, and thus
rendering futile all her frantic efforts to unseat him.
Apparantly convinced that neither of these methods would relieve her, she
stood still for a moment, as if to gather strength for a last, grand,
final effort for her freedom; then, bounding like a deer, she dashed
furiously over the plain.
Away she sped, Manuel still upon her back, now disappearing for a moment
in some ravine, to again come in sight, galloping madly over the swell of
the plain, swerving neither to the right nor the left, but once more
disappearing, to finally become lost in the distance.
"I'm glad I ain't on her," said Ned. "Will she ever come back? If she
does, I don't want to ride her. Didn't she just fly, though? Do you
believe I shall ever be able to manage her?"
"I think perhaps after Manuel gets through with her, you'll find it
easier than you imagine," was my answer.
"I'd like to ride as well as Manuel," remarked Hal. "I wonder if all
Mexicans ride as nicely as he does."
"Many do; and there are thousands of Americans in Texas who ride equally
well, if they do not surpass him in horsemanship."
"Then I mean to learn how to do it," rejoined Hal; "and I won't be
satisfied until I do."
"You may as well commence now, on your black, Hal. She's waiting and
ready for you," remarked Ned.
"Thank you! but I believe I'll wait and see how the bay comes out. Come,
let's go and see the beauty," said Hal; and the two started for the
corral, to discuss the probable relative speed of the captives.
A couple of hours later, we saw Manuel returning; the mare trotting as
quietly as though she had been accustomed to the saddle for years. Riding
up to where we stood, he dismounted; and, handing Ned the end of the
lasso, said,--
"There, youngster, throw this over her head, and lead her to the corral.
She'll fancy you're the one who first gained the mastery over her, and
you won't have no trouble in riding her when you want to."
Ned led her to the corral, and then Hal's mare was obliged to submit to a
similar experience; and, after that, the boys, with Manuel to instruct,
mounted their ponies and took their first lesson in mustang riding.
Hal Hyde and Ned Brown were two boys who had arrived from the East the
night previous to the morning on which our story opens.
They were the sons of two old friends of mine, and had been sent to
Texas that they might learn something of life upon a stock-ranche.
It is not my intention, however, to relate their experience during the
few months they remained on the Ranchee; for they found, after the first
novelty had worn off, the life was dull and exceedingly tiresome. So
monotonous did it become in fact, that it was with difficulty I persuaded
them to remain, even until the fall, when I intended to make a journey
overland to California.
As the time drew near for me to start, the boys became so anxious to
accompany me, that I finally decided to travel with my own team, instead
of taking the stage to San Diego, as I had originally intended. I
purchased four stout wagons, and thirty mules with harness and outfit for
the road, complete; and engaged the services of an old Texan named Jerry
Vance, as wagon-master for the trip. We also bought a small but
well-selected lot of goods, suitable for either the Mexican or Indian
trade; laid in a large stock of stores for use on the road; and then
awaited the departure of some "freighter" for the "Upper Country," that
we might take advantage of the better protection afforded by a large
party in travelling through a country infested by hostile bands of
Indians.
The boys became very impatient to be off; for we had gone into camp near
the headwaters of the San Pedro, four miles above the city of San
Antonio, and their only amusement consisted in practising with their
rifles or revolvers or exercising their ponies.
At last (it was the first day of September) Jerry brought word to camp,
that, on the following morning, Magoffin's train, consisting of seventeen
wagons, forty men, and two hundred mules, would start for Fort Fillmore,
nearly a thousand miles away upon our direct route.
This was indeed agreeable news; and the boys could hardly contain
themselves for joy at the thought of so soon being on the road.
Every one about camp went to work with a will; for there were many things
yet to be done before we should be ready to leave.
Mules were to be shod, harness examined, wheels greased, nuts tightened,
firearms put in order and freshly loaded, wagons repacked, and, in fact,
a thousand things that are always postponed until the last minute before
starting on a trip like ours.
Shortly after sundown, however, old Jerry announced everything ready, and
then we gathered around our camp-fire, and the boys spent the evening in
asking him questions about the route, which were easily answered; for he
had passed over it seven times, and met with hundreds of adventures on
the road, that afforded both instruction and amusement for his listeners.
It is the story of our trip across the plains, from San Antonio, Texas,
to San Diego, California, as well as some of the adventures we
encountered on the road, that I have to tell you.
Long before daylight the next morning I was awakened by the noise and
confusion in camp, incident to a first start. Men were shouting at the
mules; mules were braying; whips cracking; wheels creaking; and, far
above all, I could hear the loud voices of Hal and Ned, now giving orders
and endeavoring to instruct old Jerry how to catch an unruly mule that
seemed disposed to make some trouble, and again cautioning every one to
make no noise, for fear of disturbing me before my breakfast should be
ready.
Springing to my feet, I found that the teams were already harnessed, and
only waiting the appearance of our travelling companions to start.
Breakfast was soon dispatched, the camp equipage, blankets, etc., stowed
in one of the wagons; and very shortly the still morning air bore to our
ears the distant rumble of heavy wagons, the shouts of the teamsters, and
the many sounds indicating the approach of a large train. Presently the
herd of spare mules was seen, and then the covers of the wagons. We
mounted our ponies, old Jerry called out in a cherry tone,
"_Vamose_!" the teamsters cracked their whips, the mules pulled with
a will, and we fell in behind the wagons, and were at last fairly on the
road, bound for the "Golden State."
As the first rays of the rising sun flashed athwart the beautiful green
prairie, the boys gave a yell of delight at the sight, which was indeed a
glorious one;--the long line of wagons, each drawn by eight mules,
stretching far ahead and following the tortuous windings of the road,
their white covers, blue bodies, and bright red wheels presenting a
contrast to the sober green of the surrounding country that was at once
pleasing and unique.
[Illustration: Leading the Train.]
As we realized the truly formidable appearance of the caravan, Hal, with
his usual impetuosity, declared that there wern't Indians enough in the
country to whip us; for confirmation of his opinion, appealing to old
Jerry, who, however, only shrugged his shoulders after the peculiar
manner of frontiersmen, and said, "_Quien sabe?_" or, who knows?
For five long days we followed the road, without meeting with any
incident worthy of note. The settlements had all been passed, Fort Clark
left far behind, and not an Indian been seen by any of our party.
On the evening of the eighth day, we encamped upon the banks of the
Nucces. It was a beautiful night. The young moon was fast sinking behind
the line of the distant mountains, leaving us to enjoy the light of our
camp-fire, and admire its ruddy glow, reflected on the snow-white covers
of our wagons. These were parked in a semi-circle around us, and forcibly
recalled to my mind the stories I had read in my boyhood, of gipsy
encampments upon some grand old English barren.
"Now I call this comfort," said Hal, as he lazily stretched himself upon
a blanket before the fire. "Eight days on the road, and we haven't seen
an Indian. I don't believe there are any. Now what's the use of standing
guard and shivering round the camp half the night, watching for Indians
that never come?"
"I come on first to-night, and shall stand my watch, at any rate," said
Ned. "And before it gets any darker, we'd better drive the mules down to
water."
"Do you think," asked Hal, appealing to me, "that there's any need of
standing guard to-night?"
"Certainly I do," replied I. "It's always best to be on the safe side.
Why not exercise the same precaution to-night that we have since we left
San Antonio? It is impossible to tell how near Indians may be, or when
they will attack us. Travellers on the plains should be prepared for any
emergency."
"True as preachin'," interrupted old Jerry. "They ain't so very fur off,
either. I've seen 'em signalin' all the afternoon, and signalin' allers
means bizness with them red varmints. If we don't see 'em to-night, we
shall afore a great while, and I think--"
"Never mind what you think," interrupted Hal, saucily. "You are always
imagining things that never come to pass. I guess you've been pretty
badly scared some time by Indians."
"Wal, young man, when you've travelled over these plains as many years as
I hev, maybe you'll know more about Injuns than you do now, and maybe you
won't," rejoined Jerry, in a tone of contempt, as he slowly moved away in
the direction of the herd.
Asking Jerry to make sure that the animals were properly secured, I threw
myself down on Hal's blanket, and gazed into the fire.
Jerry and the boys soon returned, saying that the animals were perfectly
safe; but somehow I found it impossible to rid myself of the impression
made by Jerry's casual remark. Calling him to me, I asked him more
particularly about the signals he had seen. His answer did not relieve my
uneasiness, for he said,--
"Them varmints don't make smoke for nothing; and, when you see 'em in so
many directions, it's a sure sign that they're gatherin' for mischief: at
least, that's my 'sperience."
As it was still early in the evening, I determined to walk over to
Magoffin's camp, which was about a quarter of a mile above us, and
ascertain if his men had seen anything to cause them to apprehend danger.
I found that Don Ignacio, the wagon-master, fully corroborated Jerry's
statements about the smoke signals, adding that he intended to have a
very strict watch kept that night.
With, tins information I returned to camp; and, after telling the boys
what I had heard and cautioning them to keep a sharp lookout during their
watch, I "turned in," resolved to nap "with one eye open" myself.
I lay for a long time trying in vain to compose myself to sleep; but,
finding it impossible to do so, concluded to rise and endeavor to walk my
nervousness away.
Without thinking of my firearms, I sallied forth, and must have travelled
nearly a mile, when I came suddenly upon a mule, standing alone, a short
distance from the roadside.
Supposing it to be one of our own, which, through carelessness, had been
permitted to stray from the herd, I attempted to secure it, with the
intention of leading it back; but, to my surprise, it started and dashed
furiously away across the prairie, in an opposite direction from camp.
I well knew that a mule, when alone on the plains, is one of the most
docile creatures in the world, and will permit any one save an Indian to
approach it without making an effort to escape; consequently, the more I
thought of the matter the more singular it seemed. Returning to camp, I
found old Jerry awake and on the alert, and briefly told him what I had
seen, asking him if he did not think it a strange thing for the animal to
do.
Without a moment's hesitation he replied,--
"Strange? no! That air lost critter of yourn was a Comanche scout's, you
bet; and, bein' a scout, he couldn't have done nothin' else, 'cause it
might hev spilt their entire calculation. You'll hev a chance ter see him
agin afore mornin', I reckon."
"But there was no Indian with the mule," I insisted.
[Illustration: Comanche Riding.]
"Ten to one there was, though," replied Jerry. "You ain't so well
'quainted with them Comanches as I be. They're cunnin' fellers! They
never show themselves when they're on a horse, or in a fight. They just
stick closer'n a tick to their hoss's side, and do a heap of mighty good
shootin' from under his neck, I can tell you. Why, I've seen forty of 'em
comin' full tilt right towards me, and narry Injun in sight."
"If you think they are going to attack us, Jerry, hadn't we better rouse
the camp at once, and notify Magoffin's people?"
"We'd better just tend to ourselves, and let other folks do the same; and
as to rousin' the camp, why them boys is a heap better off asleep than
they would be round here. That's a nice sort of a guard, ain't it?" said
Jerry, pointing to Hal, who was slumbering soundly near the fire. "That's
just what he was doin' when I got up; and on his watch too. We can git
along without any such help as thet. Air your shootin'-irons reddy?"
Before I had time to reply to his question, the sharp, shrill war-whoop of
the Comanches fell upon our ears, ringing out on the still night air with
a yell fiendish enough to paralyze the stoutest heart. For a single
instant it lasted, and then the most unearthly din that can possibly be
imagined filled the air; while the neighing of horses, the braying of
mules, beating of drums, and discordant jangle of bells, accompanied by
an occasional discharge of firearms, rendered the scene as near
pandemonium as it is possible to conceive.
We saw a dozen or more dusky forms coming towards us, and Jerry and
myself raised our rifles and fired.
Hal, Ned, and the teamsters were by this time awake; the latter being
obliged to give their whole attention to the animals, which were making
frantic exertions to escape.
The boys rushed in the most frightened manner from one place to another,
--not knowing what to do or where to go,--only adding to the terrible
confusion; until, by Jerry's direction, they ensconced themselves under
one of the wagons, with orders not to leave it without express
permission.