Part 4 (1/2)
race ponies.
Once during the summer of 1863 when there were only a few white people at Fort Larned, the Indians, about 15,000 strong, commenced preparation for a horse race between themselves and the Fort Riley soldiers.
Everything was completed and the Indian ponies were in good trim to beat the soldiers. The Indians had placed their stakes consisting of ponies, buffalo robes, deer skins, trinkets of all kinds and characters, in the hands of their squaws. Then the Fort Riley soldiers came and the betting was exciting in the extreme, the soldiers betting silver dollars against their ponies, etc. The soldiers were victorious and highly pleased over the winnings. The Indians handed the bets over manfully and without a flinch, but one Indian afterward told me that they had certainly expected to have been treated to at least a smoke or a drink of ”fire water;” but the soldiers rode away laughing and joking and promised the Indians to return in ”two moons,” perhaps ”three moons,” in response to their invitation. I was at this race and joined in the sport. Everything was as pleasant as could be. There was no disturbance of any kind and the soldiers took their ”booty” and, as a matter of fact, did not even invite the Indians to smoke a consolation pipe.
During the fall of 1863 a small band of Comanches and Kiowas went to Texas and procured a white faced, white footed, tall, slim black stallion for racing purposes. In elation they notified the Fort Riley soldiers to come again. This time, not only did the Fort Riley soldiers come, but citizens from all over the whole country for a distance of from 300 to 500 miles came to see the fun. There were from twenty to thirty thousand Indians there, and the Indians who invited them prepared to take care of a large crowd in good style, so confident were they that this time ”the pot” would be theirs. They had hunted down, killed and dressed some fifty or sixty buffalo, and had them cooking whole, in the ground--barbecuing the meats. This time the putting up of the bets before the races came off was still more exciting than at the previous race, for the Indians had from 500 to 1,000 ponies to put up. The white men matched their money against the ponies of the Indians. The race had begun. As it proceeded, shouts of ”Hooray, hooray,” the Indians' black stallion is ahead, 100 feet in advance of the soldiers' horse, he goes.
The race is won, and the black stallion stands erect and excited, proud and defiant, and has won the laurel for his man, and seems to know that the trophy is theirs. All had placed their bets in the hands of the squaws for the spokesman, Little Ravin, the orator and regular dude of the Arapahoes, gave the white people to understand that everything would be safe in the hands of the squaws he had selected to hold stakes. These squaws proved true to their trust. After the distribution of the winnings, Little Ravin told the soldiers to stay and eat. Everybody grew merry. The soldiers went to the government dining room there at Fort Larned and got all the knives and forks they could rake and sc.r.a.pe together and took them to the barbecue. When the Indians saw that the white people had entered into the banquet with such enthusiasm and zest they went to the settlers' store and bought two or three hundred dollars worth of candies, canned goods of all kinds, crackers, etc., to make their variety larger. They also bought 50 boxes of cigars with which to treat the citizens and soldiers. When everything was in readiness for the feast, the white men all stood up near the feast with a few of the greatest chiefs of the several tribes, while the other Indians who were not acting as waiters, to see that the choicest pieces of buffalo meat were given their guests, stood in a ring back of the white guests, and did not attempt to satisfy their hunger until after the whites had demonstrated that they had feasted to the brim. This was one of the most amusing incidents of my life on the frontier, and the Fort Riley boys felt that in this treatment, they had been dealt a blow to their own generosity, and one of the soldiers acting as spokesman, told the Indians that they were ashamed of their own lack of hospitality when they were the winners of the other race. This pleased the Indians greatly, and they fell an easy victim to the duplicity of the soldiers and made a contract to sell their black stallion racing horse to them for the sum of $2,000, which sale was to be completed 60 days later if the soldiers still wanted the purchase of the horse, at which time they were to notify the Chief, and he was to bring or send him to Fort Riley.
This was a great sacrifice, but the ignorant Indian was not aware of it.
During the 60 days before the Indian brought the horse in and received their money one soldier went up to St. Joe and sold this horse, so I have been told for the sum of $10,000 in cash, but for the truth of this statement I will not vouch.
It is a picturesque sight to watch the Indians move camp. Their trains often covered several hundred acres of land. The Indians usually move in a large body, or band. Their moving ”van” consists of two long slim poles placed on each side of a pony, made fast by means of straps tanned by the squaws from buckskin and buffalo hides. About six or seven feet from the ponies' heels are placed two crossbars about three or four feet apart, connected by weaving willow brush from one crossbar to the other, between these shafts, or poles, hitched to the pony. Upon this woven s.p.a.ce or ”hold” are placed the household goods, the folded tents or tepees, and lastly, their children and decrepit Indians.
It is not unusual to see several thousand of these strange vans moving together, their trains being sometimes three or four miles in length.
Then their politeness might also be spoken of, for while it is true that they have a traditional politeness, it is not a matter of history. Their sledges were never in the public road but at least 10 to 20 rods outside of the road in the sage brush and cactus, leaving the road free for the Stage Company's mail coach.
In all the different books I have ever read, I have never seen one word of praise for any courtesy the Indians gave us during those frontier days, but instead I find nothing but abuse. The Indian is the only natural born American and the only people to inhabit North America before the discovery by Columbus. This land we so greatly love rightfully belonged to the Red Man of the forest, and it is my opinion that they had as much right to protect their own lands as do we in this century. The novelists howl about the depredations committed by the Indian, but their ravings are made more to sell their books and to create animosity than for any good purposes.
The Eastern people eagerly read everything they found that abused the Indians, and the Indians in those days had no presses in which to make known their grievances. The only thing left was to get vengeance wherever he found a white man. ”To me belongeth vengeance and recompense.” Personally I blame the press for loss of life to both the Indian and the white men, for having schooled the white man erroneously.
Travelers crossing the plains were always on the defensive, and ever ready to commence war on any Indian who came within the radius of their firearms. When I was a boy I read in my reader: ”Lo, the cowardly Indian.” The picture above this sentence was that of an Indian in war paint, holding his bow and arrow, ready to shoot a white man in the back.
The novelists write many things of how Kit Carson shot the Indians. Kit Carson was a personal friend of mine, and when I read s.n.a.t.c.hes to him from books making him a ”heap big Indian killer,” he always grew furious and said it was a ”d.a.m.n lie,” that he never had killed an Indian, and if he had, that he could not have made the treaties with them that he had made, and his scalp would have been the forfeit. At one time Kit Carson went on an Indian raid with Colonel Willis down into Western Indian Territory. He volunteered to go with Colonel Willis to protect him and his soldiers, and at this very time Colonel Henry Inman tells of Kit Carson being on the plains of the Santa Fe Trail, with a large company of soldiers under his command, shooting Indians.
This is a mis-statement of Colonel Inman. Kit Carson never had a company of soldiers, was not a military man, and at no time raided the Indians.
As will be seen in another chapter of this book, he was simply a scout and protector for the soldiers. Like Dryden, however, ”I have given my opinion against the authority of two great men, but I hope without offense to their memories.” Kit Carson said that the Indian, as a people, are just as brave as any people. Their warriors were not expected to go out as soldiers with a commanding officer, but each was to protect himself. That, in their opinion, was the only way to carry on war.
CHAPTER X.
Major Carleton Orders Colonel Willis to Go Into Southwestern Indian Territory and ”Clean Out the Indians.” Kit Carson Volunteers to Go With Colonel Willis as Scout and Protector.
In June, 1865, two or three settlers coming from the border of the Indian Country along the Texas and Arizona line, into Santa Fe, planned to hunt and kill all the game on the reservation without consulting the Indians. This occasioned trouble and one white man was killed. General Carleton, in command of all the Southwestern country, stationed at Santa Fe, heard about the killing, and without attempting to understand the position the Indians held, or in any way to find out the cause of trouble, sent an order to Colonel Willis, who was stationed at Fort Union, to take his 300 California Volunteers to this reservation and to ”Clean out the Indians.” His order was imperative. It did not say for him to endeavor to find out the cause of the death of this white man, but to go at once into their camp and to ma.s.sacre, confiscate anything of value, and have no mercy on the Redskins, who had slaughtered a white man who was ”only hunting” on the Indian reservation.
When Colonel Willis got this order he said to me that he knew absolutely nothing about the Indian mode of warfare, and that he was fearful of getting his soldiers all killed, and he wished that Kit Carson would go with him, but that he would not ask him to do so because he knew that Carson would disapprove of the orders he had from Colonel Carleton.
President Polk appointed Kit Carson to a second lieutenancy and his official duty was to conduct the fifty soldiers under his command through the country of the Comanches, but for some reason the Senate refused to confirm the appointment, and he consequently had no connection with the regular army.
When Colonel Willis had his soldiers all in trim and was about to leave Fort Union, Kit Carson, who had been watching him from a nail keg upon which he was sitting, came up to him and slapped Willis' horse on the hip, saying: ”Willis, I guess I had better go with you; if you go down there alone, them red devils will never let you return.” ”Kit,” said Colonel Willis, ”That is what I want you to do, and we will wait for you.” But Kit Carson needed no time to prepare, he threw his saddle on and told Colonel Willis that he was ready without any delay. At about 10 o'clock in the forenoon the company left Fort Union, carrying one cannon and plenty of ammunition. At about daybreak on their second day out, they came upon a village of 100 or more tents camped on about the line of New Mexico and Arizona. There were Kiowas, Comanches, Cheyennes, Utes, Arapahoes and some Apaches in this village. Colonel Willis said to Kit Carson that it was about time to ”try their little canon,” but Kit Carson told Col. Willis ”No.” Kit asked Col. Willis to show him his orders, which by the way he had not seen before volunteering to come with Willis. When Carson read the order he was startled. It had never occurred to him that a man of Col. Carleton's reputation would be so unjust. Now said Kit Carson to Col. Willis, ”Suppose we send out some runners and bring the chiefs to us and see what occasioned all this trouble that caused Gen. Carleton to give such orders.” Col. Willis said he had no such orders as that from Carleton, and the only thing he could do was to ”beard the lion in his den” because his orders were strict, they said to go and kill the Indians wherever he found them and he would be compelled to obey orders. The consultation between Col. Willis and Brevet Kit Carson almost amounted to an argument. Kit Carson declared that his orders should have read ”in your discretion, etc.,” and that it was not advisable to take life in this manner, ”but since you must obey orders,” Brevet Gen. Kit Carson said, ”Fire away, if every mother's son of you lose your scalp.”
At daybreak Col. Willis' soldiers fired into the Indian camp, where dwelt something like 1500 Indians, mostly old squaws and papooses with a few able-bodied warriors. Few escaped with their lives and those who did escape were entirely dest.i.tute for the soldiers set fire to their tents after loading their wagons to the hilt with whatever they considered might be of value, buffalo robes, moccasins, blankets and other a.s.sets, together with all the provisions from the camp. There were several tons of the latter--buffalo meat, antelope, venison, goat, bear and dried jack rabbit. When Kit Carson found that all this provision was confiscated he demanded that it be unloaded and left for the consumption of the few remaining Indians scattered over the plains who were without food or shelter.
After this raid they started for the Indian Territory and over into Texas, hunting for more Indians. Kit Carson kept surveying the landscape with a view to securing suitable places to fortify against the formidable foe whom he knew might at any time steal upon them and ambush them. Col. Willis had been watching him for several days and was totally unable to make out from his deportment what he was looking for. When Kit Carson told him that he was hunting for safe camping places Col. Willis asked him if he thought they might be attacked. Kit Carson told him that he knew that before many ”moons” they would be surrounded by Indians, and that they must begin their preparations for defense. Col. Willis was unused to Indian signs, but Kit Carson knew them well. He had already seen the Indian smokes. An Indian's telegraphic means were by smokes placed at intervening points. These smokes denote place, number, etc., known to all Indians and ”path-finders.” Kit Carson with his field gla.s.s inspecting the country had noticed these smokes and knew that a large band was being called together. He informed Col. Willis that they must travel back to a certain place he had selected, a stone ridge with a spring gus.h.i.+ng out of the side of a cliff. This was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. They reached the stone ridge about dusk. ”Carson,” said Willis, ”tell us what to do, I know nothing about fighting these wild devils.” Kit Carson told him to put his soldiers to piling stone and make a breastwork to hide behind. He told Willis to send some of the soldiers to the spring and build up a wall several feet all around it and put some of the soldiers in there for protection and at the same time have a place to get water. The soldiers had not a minute to lose.
The Indians bore down upon them and sent arrows into their midst, but did no damage. Kit Carson told a soldier to put a hat on a pole and lift it up, that he believed some Indians were hidden in a wild plum thicket close by; if so, they would shoot at the hat. This hat trick was tried several times. Kit Carson had located the Indians pretty well by this time and told Col. Willis to set his cannon so it would shoot very low, to barely miss the ground, and then he thought they would have a chance to s.n.a.t.c.h a ”piece of sleep” before daylight. When the cannon exploded the Indians retreated, taking with them their dead and wounded and did not come back any more that, night. An Indian will risk his life rather than leave a dead member of his band in the white man's possession. It is an old superst.i.tion that if a warrior loses his scalp he forfeits his hope of ever reaching the ”happy hunting ground.” Col. Willis and Kit Carson camped there until two o'clock in the morning when they went down off of the stone ridge out onto the open prairie twenty miles distant, where they again camped. After dark they again started out on the trail.
Indians hardly ever attack at night. Nevertheless, the Indians began to congregate until they numbered several thousand and chased Col. Willis and Kit Carson 300 miles. Under the clever management of Kit Carson's Indian tricks Col. Willis and his soldiers all escaped without a loss of a man or getting one injured. Kit Carson told me that he was ”mighty thankful that the gol-derned gra.s.s was too green to burn.”
My Position in Reference to the Treatment of Indians.
It has been my endeavor in writing this book to relate incidents as they actually occurred and of my own personal knowledge and observation. My experience with the Indians and my observations with their natural traits and characteristics convinces me that the white man has not, in most instances, been willing to do him justice and has subjected him to a great deal of unmerited abuse and persecution. The outbreaks by the Indians in all instances that came under my observation were brought about by the ill treatment of the whites. The Indians were always very reluctant to avenge themselves upon the whites for the wrongs done them.