The spring of 1846 was a busy season on the western frontier. Not only
were emigrants from every part of the country preparing for the journey
to California and Oregon, but a great number were making ready for
Santa Fé. These adventurous people fitted out their wagon trains at
St. Louis, and from there traveled up the Missouri River by boat to a
place called Independence. This was the usual starting place, although
occasionally trains went out from Fort Leavenworth.
[Illustration: THE LEADER OF A WAGON TRAIN]
These trains were usually made up of two or more large wagons, several
emigrants combining forces and, considering that hostile Indians were
always on the trail, this was a wise precaution. Some trains, however,
sent out by companies formed for the express purpose of carrying goods
to the Pacific Coast, consisted of as many as twenty-five wagons.
These wagons each could carry as much as six thousand pounds of freight
and were drawn by several yoke of oxen in charge of one driver. Looking
like large, flat-bottomed scows, the wagons were covered with canvas
stretched over hoops bent round in shape. In this way the goods carried
were protected from dampness and rain.
The trail to the Pacific Coast ran through what is now the State of
Kansas to the Big Blue River, then over the Big and the Little Sandy
River, coming into Nebraska close by the Big Sandy. Next, striking the
Little Blue, the trail followed it for some sixty miles until it came
to the Platte River near Fort Kearney. From here it wound in and out of
the rolling hills like a great serpent, and on across the prairies to
Fort Laramie, one of the most westerly frontier posts.
The country lying between this fort and the Salt Lake Valley, on the
other side of the Rocky Mountains, was inhabited only by hostile
Indians, and it was here that many brave men lost their lives.
Among the large number of people who pushed into the Wild West in
the early days of emigration, the resolute forester who had already
penetrated the wilds of the forest-covered States was the first to
venture. Toils and hazards of former undertakings were forgotten, as
these endless and unexplored regions were opened for settlement.
The tints and hues of autumn were at their fullest when a train of
wagons issued from the border hills to pursue its way across the
rolling surface of the great prairie. Creaking “prairie-schooners,”
as the wagons were sometimes called, heavy with stoves and household
goods, and concealing the women and children, moved slowly along the
trail. Straggling sheep and cattle were herded in the rear, while in
front rode or walked the sturdy and fearless backwoodsmen. On every
side stretched the broad plain which reached like a great sea to the
far distant Rocky Mountains. The leader, a tall, strong man, who rode
ahead, had stopped and was looking with shaded eyes toward the west.
The setting sun cast a yellow glow over the heavens and earth and
seemed to suggest the very gold whose discovery in California was
attracting so many men to make this hazardous journey. The dress of
this leader was very picturesque. From his deer-skin belt hung his
hunting knife, with its buckhorn handle, and his hat of martens’ fur
gave to his strong face a look of great determination. The stock of
his rifle, that was loosely hung over his shoulder, was of beautiful
mahogany riveted and bound with precious metal. In addition to the
rifle, a carefully guarded powder horn and a keen, bright wood axe were
slung across his back.
[Illustration: A PRAIRIE SCHOONER]
As evening came, a camp was sought for the night. A cool spring that
burst forth from the side of a gently sloping hill, and proved to be
the source of a prairie stream, called a run, offered the desired water
and fresh grass for the cattle and horses, and was quickly chosen.
It was a busy scene while the camp was made, and every member of the
train had his task. The great wagons were swung into a circle to afford
the best means of protection in case of attack.
When the evening meal was over, lots were drawn to see who should stand
guard for the night. This decided, women and children went to bed and
the sheep and cattle were driven into the corral formed by the wagons.
Night came on and the stars shone out with the special brilliancy of
the western sky. It was now the first watch of the night and the pale
light of a new moon played over the endless waves of the prairie,
tipping the ridges with gleams of light and leaving the hollows purple
in darkness.
[Illustration]
On a knoll some little distance from the camp crouched several dusky
forms. Low guttural tones came from the throats of the band of Indians,
who in fierce war paint and with fiery eyes looked more like demons
than men.
Crouching low, with a snake-like motion three of the band crawled
away through the tall grass. It was some minutes before they returned
and reported what they had seen in the camp. Then, at a given signal,
several more warriors rode up upon their fleet ponies and dismounted.
A council was held, but when the scouts reported that the wagon train
was strongly fortified, the Indians decided to give up the attack that
night, and mounting, almost as one man, the wild riders rode like the
wind across the moonlit prairie and were soon lost in the dim distance.
With the first break of day the emigrant train was in motion and once
more began its weary journey. All went well until, a few hours after
sunrise, the leader suddenly came to a halt. On a rise of ground some
distance ahead appeared a bright spot, which, upon closer observation,
proved to be a mounted Indian. The alarm was soon given, and the whole
train at once became the scene of hurried and exciting preparation. The
wagons were quickly wheeled into a circle and the women, children and
stock were cared for just as they had been the night before. There was
not a moment to lose. For at all points Indians now appeared mounted
and in full war dress. They were riding like mad, circling the group of
wagons at some distance. Finally a great piercing war-cry sounded and
the wild and furious riders closed in on the settlers. Coming within
range of the backwoodsmen’s rifles, the red foes threw themselves on
the off side of their horses, and so placed the animals between them
and the accurate aim of the long rifles of the train defenders.
While this excitement was going on the emigrants did not see the dark
forms crawling through the long grass toward their fort. Suddenly a
terrible yell of savage success rent the air and an awful scene of
bloodshed and hand-to-hand encounter followed. In the confusion the
animals broke loose and stampeded, and away they went across the
plains, the Indian riders in wild pursuit to capture their booty.
The enemy gone, it was a desolate scene that greeted the emigrant
leader. Many of his best men were dead, most of his cattle gone, and
scarcely enough horses left for half his wagons. But he was indeed
fortunate, since none of the women and children had been killed or
taken captive.
In spite of such odds as these the Great West grew and settlements
multiplied. This was due to the courage and indomitable will of these
first comers, who in spite of almost insurmountable difficulties did
not lose heart or ambition.