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diff --git a/7867-0.txt b/7867-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b808f66 --- /dev/null +++ b/7867-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3801 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Crooked Trails, by Frederic Remington + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Crooked Trails + +Author: Frederic Remington + +Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7867] +Posting Date: July 31, 2009 +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CROOKED TRAILS *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred + + + + + + +[Illustration: 01 TEXAS RANGERS HOLDING UP CHAPPARAL BANDITS] + + +CROOKED TRAILS + + +By Frederic Remington + +Illustrated By Frederic Remington + +Author Of “Pony Tracks” + +First published in 1898 + + + +CONTENTS + + HOW THE LAW GOT INTO THE CHAPARRAL + + THE BLUE QUAIL OF THE CACTUS + + A SERGEANT OF THE ORPHAN TROOP + + THE SPIRIT OF MAHONGUI + + THE ESSENTIALS AT FORT ADOBE + + MASSAI'S CROOKED TRAIL + + JOSHUA GOODENOUGH'S OLD LETTER + + CRACKER COWBOYS OF FLORIDA + + THE STRANGE DAYS THAT CAME TO JIMMIE FRIDAY + + THE SOLEDAD GIRLS + + + + +CROOKED TRAILS + + + + +HOW THE LAW GOT INTO THE CHAPARRAL + + +“You have heard about the Texas Rangers?” said the Deacon to me one +night in the San Antonio Club. “Yes? Well, come up to my rooms, and I +will introduce you to one of the old originals--dates 'way back in the +'thirties'--there aren't many of them left now--and if we can get him to +talk, he will tell you stories that will make your eyes hang out on your +shirt front.” + +We entered the Deacon's cosey bachelor apartments, where I was +introduced to Colonel “Rip” Ford, of the old-time Texas Rangers. I found +him a very old man, with a wealth of snow-white hair and beard--bent, +but not withered. As he sunk on his stiffened limbs into the arm-chair, +we disposed ourselves quietly and almost reverentially, while we lighted +cigars. We began the approaches by which we hoped to loosen the history +of a wild past from one of the very few tongues which can still wag on +the days when the Texans, the Co-manches, and the Mexicans chased one +another over the plains of Texas, and shot and stabbed to find who +should inherit the land. + +Through the veil of tobacco smoke the ancient warrior spoke his +sentences slowly, at intervals, as his mind gradually separated and +arranged the details of countless fights. His head bowed in thought; +anon it rose sharply at recollections, and as he breathed, the shouts +and lamentations of crushed men--the yells and shots--the thunder of +horses' hoofs--the full fury of the desert combats came to the pricking +ears of the Deacon and me. + +We saw through the smoke the brave young faces of the hosts which poured +into Texas to war with the enemies of their race. They were clad in +loose hunting-frocks, leather leggings, and broad black hats; had +powder-horns and shot-pouches hung about them; were armed with +bowie-knives, Mississippi rifles, and horse-pistols; rode Spanish +ponies, and were impelled by Destiny to conquer, like their remote +ancestors, “the godless hosts of Pagan” who “came swimming o'er the +Northern Sea.” + +“Rip” Ford had not yet acquired his front name in 1836, when he enlisted +in the famous Captain Jack Hayes's company of Rangers, which was +fighting the Mexicans in those days, and also trying incidentally to +keep from being eaten up by the Comanches. + +Said the old Colonel: “A merchant from our country journeyed to New +York, and Colonel Colt, who was a friend of his, gave him two +five-shooters--pistols they were, and little things. The merchant in +turn presented them to Captain Jack Hayes. The captain liked them so +well that he did not rest till every man jack of us had two apiece. + +“Directly,” mused the ancient one, with a smile of pleasant +recollection, “we had a fight with the Comanches--up here above San +Antonio. Hayes had fifteen men with him--he was doubling about the +country for Indians. He found 'sign,' and after cutting their trail +several times he could see that they were following him. Directly the +Indians overtook the Rangers--there were seventy-five Indians. Captain +Hayes--bless his memory!--said,' They are fixin' to charge us, boys, and +we must charge them.' There were never better men in this world than +Hayes had with him,” went on the Colonel with pardonable pride; “and +mind you, he never made a fight without winning. + +“We charged, and in the fracas killed thirty-five Indians--only two of +our men were wounded--so you see the five-shooters were pretty good +weapons. Of course they wa'n't any account compared with these modern +ones, because they were too small, but they did those things. Just after +that Colonel Colt was induced to make bigger ones for us, some of which +were half as long as your arm. + +“Hayes? Oh, he was a surveyor, and used to go out beyond the frontiers +about his work. The Indians used to jump him pretty regular; but he +always whipped them, and so he was available for a Ranger captain. About +then--let's see,” and here the old head bobbed up from his chest, where +it had sunk in thought--“there was a commerce with Mexico just sprung +up, but this was later--it only shows what that man Hayes used to do. +The bandits used to waylay the traders, and they got very bad in the +country. Captain Hayes went after them--he struck them near Lavade, and +found the Mexicans had more than twice as many men as he did; but he +caught them napping, charged them afoot--killed twenty-five of them, and +got all their horses.” + +“I suppose, Colonel, you have been charged by a Mexican lancer?” I +inquired. + +“Oh yes, many times,” he answered. + +“What did you generally do?” + +“Well, you see, in those days I reckoned to be able to hit a man every +time with a six-shooter at one hundred and twenty-five yards,” explained +the old gentleman--which no doubt meant many dead lancers. + +[Illustration: 02 A BEARER OF CIVILIZATION] + +“Then you do not think much of a lance as a weapon?” I pursued. + +“No; there is but one weapon. The six-shooter when properly handled is +the only weapon--mind you, sir, I say _properly”_ and here the old eyes +blinked rapidly over the great art as he knew its practice. + +“Then, of course, the rifle has its use. Under Captain Jack Hayes sixty +of us made a raid once after the celebrated priest-leader of the +Mexicans--Padre Jarante--which same was a devil of a fellow. We were +very sleepy--had been two nights without sleep. At San Juan every man +stripped his horse, fed, and went to sleep. We had passed Padre Jarante +in the night without knowing it. At about twelve o'clock next day there +was a terrible outcry--I was awakened by shooting. The Padre was upon +us. Five men outlying stood the charge, and went under. We gathered, and +the Padre charged three times. The third time he was knocked from his +horse and killed. Then Captain Jack Hayes awoke, and we got in a big +_casa._ The men took to the roof. As the Mexicans passed we emptied a +great many saddles. As I got to the top of the _casa_ I found two men +quarrelling.” (Here the Colonel chuckled.) “I asked what the matter was, +and they were both claiming to have killed a certain Mexican who was +lying dead some way off. One said he had hit him in the head, and the +other said he had hit him in the breast. I advised peace until after the +fight. Well--after the shooting was over and the Padre's men had had +enough, we went out to the particular Mexican who was dead, and, sure +enough, he was shot in the head and in the breast; so they laughed and +made peace. About this time one of the spies came in and reported six +hundred Mexicans coming. We made an examination of our ammunition, and +found that we couldn't afford to fight six hundred Mexicans with sixty +men, so we pulled out. This was in the Mexican war, and only goes to +show that Captain Hayes's men could shoot all the Mexicans that could +get to them if the ammunition would hold out.” + +“What was the most desperate fight you can remember, Colonel?” + +The old man hesitated; this required a particular point of view--it was +quality, not quantity, wanted now; and, to be sure, he was a +connoisseur. After much study by the Colonel, during which the world +lost many thrilling tales, the one which survived occurred in 1851. + +“My lieutenant, Ed Burleson, was ordered to carry to San Antonio an +Indian prisoner we had taken and turned over to the commanding officer +at Fort McIntosh. On his return, while nearing the Nueces River, he +spied a couple of Indians. Taking seven men, he ordered the balance to +continue along the road. The two Indians proved to be fourteen, and they +charged Burleson up to the teeth. Dismounting his men, he poured it into +them from his Colt's six-shooting rifles. They killed or wounded all +the Indians except two, some of them dying so near the Rangers that they +could put their hands on their boots. All but one of Burleson's men were +wounded--himself shot in the head with an arrow. One man had four +'dogwood switches' [Arrows.] in his body, one of which was in his +bowels. This man told me that every time he raised his gun to fire, the +Indians would stick an arrow in him, but he said he didn't care a cent. +One Indian was lying right up close, and while dying tried to shoot an +arrow, but his strength failed so fast that the arrow only barely left +the bowstring. One of the Rangers in that fight was a curious +fellow--when young he had been captured by Indians, and had lived with +them so long that he had Indian habits. In that fight he kept jumping +around when loading, so as to be a bad target, the same as an Indian +would under the circumstances, and he told Burleson he wished he had his +boots off, so he could get around good”--and here the Colonel paused +quizzically. “Would you call that a good fight?” + +[Illustration: 03 THE CHARGE ANP KILLING OF PADRE JARANTE] + +The Deacon and I put the seal of our approval on the affair, and the +Colonel rambled ahead. + +“In 1858 I was commanding the frontier battalion of State troops on the +whole frontier, and had my camp on the Deer Fork of the Brazos. The +Comanches kept raiding the settlements. They would come down quietly, +working well into the white lines, and then go back a-running--driving +stolen stock and killing and burning. I thought I would give them some +of their own medicine. I concluded to give them a fight. I took two +wagons, one hundred Rangers, and one hundred and thirteen Tahuahuacan +Indians, who were friend-lies. We struck a good Indian trail on a stream +which led up to the Canadian. We followed it till it got hot. I camped +my outfit in such a manner as to conceal my force, and sent out my +scouts, who saw the Indians hunt buffalo through spyglasses. That night +we moved. I sent Indians to locate the camp. They returned before day, +and reported that the Indians were just a few miles ahead, whereat we +moved forward. At daybreak, I remember, I was standing in the bull-wagon +road leading to Santa Fe and could see the Canadian River in our +front--with eighty lodges just beyond. Counting four men of fighting age +to a lodge, that made a possible three hundred and twenty Indians. Just +at sunup an Indian came across the river on a pony. Our Indians down +below raised a yell--they always get excited. The Indian heard them--it +was very still then. The Indian retreated slowly, and began to ride in a +circle. From where I was I could hear him puff like a deer--he was +blowing the bullets away from himself--he was a medicine-man. I heard +five shots from the Jagers with which my Indians were armed. The painted +pony of the medicine-man jumped ten feet in the air, it seemed to me, +and fell over on his rider--then five more Jagers went off, and he was +dead. I ordered the Tahuahuacans out in front, and kept the Rangers out +of sight, because I wanted to charge home and kind of surprise them. +Pretty soon I got ready, and gave the word. We charged. At the river we +struck some boggy ground and floundered around considerable, but we got +through. We raised the Texas yell, and away we went. I never expect +again to hear such a noise--I never want to hear it--what with the +whoops of the warriors--the screaming of the women and children--our +boys yelling--the shooting, and the horses just a-mixin' up and +a-stampedin' around,” and the Colonel bobbed his head slowly as he +continued. + +[Illustration: 04 WE STRUCK SOME BOGGY GROUND] + +“One of my men didn't know a buck from a squaw. There was an Indian +woman on a pony with five children. He shot the pony--it seemed like you +couldn't see that pony for little Indians. We went through the camp, and +the Indians pulled out--spreading fanlike, and we a-running them. After +a long chase I concluded to come back. I saw lots of Indians around in +the hills. When I got back, I found Captain Ross had formed my men in +line. 'What time in the morning is it?' I asked. 'Morning, hell!' says +he--'it's one o'clock!' And so it was. Directly I saw an Indian coming +down a hill near by, and then more Indians and more Indians--till it +seemed like they wa'n't ever going to get through coming. We had struck +a bigger outfit than the first one. That first Indian he bantered my men +to come out single-handed and fight him. One after another, he wounded +five of my Indians. I ordered my Indians to engage them, and kind of get +them down in the flat, where I could charge. After some running and +shooting they did this, and I turned the Rangers loose. We drove them. +The last stand they made they killed one of my Indians, wounded a +Ranger, but left seven of their dead in a pile. It was now nearly +nightfall, and I discovered that my horses were broken down after +fighting all day. I found it hard to restrain my men, they had got so +heated up; but I gradually withdrew to where the fight commenced. The +Indian camp was plundered. In it we found painted buffalo-robes with +beads a hand deep around the edges--the finest robes I have ever +seen--and heaps of goods plundered from the Santa Fe traders. On the way +back I noticed a dead chief, and was for a moment astonished to find +pieces of flesh cut out of him; upon looking at a Tahuahuacan warrior I +saw a pair of dead hands tied behind his saddle. That night they had a +cannibal feast. You see, the Tahuahuacans say that the first one of +their race was brought into the world by a wolf. 'How am I to live?' +said the Tahuahuacan. 'The same as we do,' said the wolf; and when they +were with me, that is just about how they lived. I reckon it's necessary +to tell you about the old woman who was found in our lines. She was +looking at the sun and making incantations, a-cussing us out generally +and elevating her voice. She said the Comanches would get even for this +day's work. I directed my Indians to let her alone, but I was informed +afterwards that that is just what they didn't do.” + +At this point the Colonel's cigar went out, and directly he followed; +but this is the manner in which he told of deeds which I know would fare +better at the hands of one used to phrasing and capable also of more +points of view than the Colonel was used to taking. The outlines of the +thing are strong, however, because the Deacon and I understood that +fights were what the old Colonel had dealt in during his active life, +much as other men do in stocks and bonds or wheat and corn. He had been +a successful operator, and only recalled pleasantly the bull quotations. +This type of Ranger is all but gone. A few may yet be found in outlying +ranches. One of the most celebrated resides near San Antonio--“Big-foot +Wallace” by name. He says he doesn't mind being called “Big-foot,” + because he is six feet two in height, and is entitled to big feet. His +face is done off in a nest of white hair and beard, and is patriarchal +in character. In 1836 he came out from Virginia to “take toll” of the +Mexicans for killing some relatives of his in the Fannin Massacre, and +he considers that he has squared his accounts; but they had him on the +debit side for a while. Being captured in the Meir expedition, he +walked as a prisoner to the city of Mexico, and did public work for that +country with a ball-and-chain attachment for two years. The prisoners +overpowered the guards and escaped on one occasion, but were overtaken +by Mexican cavalry while dying of thirst in a desert. Santa Anna ordered +their “decimation,” which meant that every tenth man was shot, their lot +being determined by the drawing of a black bean from an earthen pot +containing a certain proportion of white ones. “Big-foot” drew a white +one. He was also a member of Captain Hayes's company, afterwards a +captain of Rangers, and a noted Indian-fighter. Later he carried the +mails from San Antonio to El Paso through a howling wilderness, but +always brought it safely through--if safely can be called lying thirteen +days by a water-hole in the desert, waiting for a broken leg to mend, +and living meanwhile on one prairie-wolf, which he managed to shoot. +Wallace was a professional hunter, who fought Indians and hated +“greasers”; he belongs to the past, and has been “outspanned” under a +civilization in which he has no place, and is to-day living in poverty. + +[Illustration: 05 PRISONERS DRAWING THEIR BEANS] + +The civil war left Texas under changed conditions. That and the Mexican +wars had determined its boundaries, however, and it rapidly filled up +with new elements of population. Broken soldiers, outlaws, poor +immigrants living in bull-wagons, poured in. “Gone to Texas” had a +sinister significance in the late sixties. When the railroad got to +Abilene, Kansas, the cow-men of Texas found a market for their stock, +and began trailing their herds up through the Indian country. + +Bands of outlaws organized under the leadership of desperadoes like Wes +Hardin and King Fisher. They rounded up cattle regardless of their +owners' rights, and resisted interference with force. The poor man +pointed to his brand in the stolen herd and protested. He was shot. The +big owners were unable to protect themselves from loss. The property +right was established by the six-shooter, and honest men were forced to +the wall. In 1876 the property-holding classes went to the Legislature, +got it to appropriate a hundred thousand dollars a year for two years, +and the Ranger force was reorganized to carry the law into the +chaparral. At this time many judges were in league with bandits; +sheriffs were elected by the outlaws, and the electors were +cattle-stealers. + +The Rangers were sworn to uphold the laws of Texas and the United +States. They were deputy sheriffs, United States marshals--in fact, were +often vested with any and every power, even to the extent of ignoring +disreputable sheriffs. At times they were judge, jury, and executioner +when the difficulties demanded extremes. When a band of outlaws was +located, detectives or spies were sent among them, who openly joined the +desperadoes, and gathered evidence to put the Rangers on their trail. +Then, in the wilderness, with only the soaring buzzard or prowling +coyote to look on, the Ranger and the outlaw met to fight with tigerish +ferocity to the death. Shot, and lying prone, they fired until the +palsied arm could no longer raise the six-shooter, and justice was +satisfied as their bullets sped. The captains had the selection of +their men, and the right to dishonorably discharge at will. Only men of +irreproachable character, who were fine riders and dead-shots, were +taken. The spirit of adventure filled the ranks with the most prominent +young men in the State, and to have been a Ranger is a badge of +distinction in Texas to this day. The display of anything but a perfect +willingness to die under any and all circumstances was fatal to a +Ranger, and in course of time they got the _moral_ on the bad man. Each +one furnished his own horse and arms, while the State gave him +ammunition, “grub,” one dollar a day, and extra expenses. The enlistment +was for twelve months. A list of fugitive Texas criminals was placed in +his hands, with which he was expected to familiarize himself. Then, in +small parties, they packed the bedding on their mule, they hung the +handcuffs and leather thongs about its neck, saddled their +riding-ponies, and threaded their way into the chaparral. + +[Illustration: 06 HOW THE LAW GOT INTO THE CHAPARRAL] + +On an evening I had the pleasure of meeting two more distinguished +Ranger officers--more modern types--Captains Lea Hall and Joseph Shely; +both of them big, forceful men, and loath to talk about themselves. It +was difficult to associate the quiet gentlemen who sat smoking in the +Deacon's rooms with what men say; for the tales of their prowess in +Texas always ends, “and that don't count Mexicans, either.” The bandit +never laid down his gun but with his life; so the “la ley de huga” + [Mexican law of shooting escaped or resisting prisoners.] was in force +in the chaparral, and the good people of Texas were satisfied with a +very short account of a Ranger's fight. + +The most distinguished predecessor of these two men was a Captain +McNally, who was so bent on, carrying his raids to an issue that he paid +no heed to national boundary-lines. He followed a band of Mexican +bandits to the town of La Cueva, below Ringgold, once, and, surrounding +it, demanded the surrender of the cattle which they had stolen. He had +but ten men, and yet this redoubtable warrior surrounded a town full of +bandits and Mexican soldiers. The Mexican soldiers attacked the Rangers, +and forced them back under the river-banks, but during the fight the +_jefe politico_ was killed. The Rangers were in a fair way to be +overcome by the Mexicans, when Lieutenant Clendenin turned a Gatling +loose from the American side and covered their position. A parley +ensued, but McNally refused to go back without the cattle, which the +Mexicans had finally to surrender. + +At another time McNally received word through spies of an intended raid +of Mexican cattle-thieves under the leadership of Cammelo Lerma. At +Resaca de la Palma, McNally struck the depredators with but sixteen men. +They had seventeen men and five hundred head of stolen cattle. In a +running fight for miles McNally's men killed sixteen bandits, while only +one escaped. A young Ranger by the name of Smith was shot dead by +Cammelo Lerma as he dismounted to look at the dying bandit. The dead +bodies were piled in ox-carts and dumped in the public square at +Brownsville. McNally also captured King Fisher's band in an old log +house in Dimmit County, but they were not convicted. + +Showing the nature of Ranger work, an incident which occurred to my +acquaintance, Captain Lea Hall, will illustrate. In De Witt County there +was a feud. One dark night sixteen masked men took a sick man, one Dr. +Brazel, and two of his boys, from their beds, and, despite the imploring +mother and daughter, hanged the doctor and one son to a tree. The other +boy escaped in the green corn. Nothing was done to punish the crime, as +the lynchers were men of property and influence in the country. No man +dared speak above his breath about the affair. + +Captain Hall, by secret-service men, discovered the perpetrators, and +also that they were to be gathered at a wedding on a certain night. He +surrounded the house and demanded their surrender, at the same time +saying that he did not want to kill the women and children. Word +returned that they would kill him and all his Rangers. Hall told them to +allow their women and children to depart, which was done; then, +springing on the gallery of the house, he shouted, “Now, gentlemen, you +can go to killing Rangers; but if you don't surrender, the Rangers will +go to killing you.” This was too frank a willingness for midnight +assassins, and they gave up. + +Spies had informed him that robbers intended sacking Campbell's store in +Wolfe City. Hall and his men lay behind the counters to receive them on +the designated night. They were allowed to enter, when Hall's men, +rising, opened fire--the robbers replying. Smoke filled the room, which +was fairly illuminated by the flashes of the guns--but the robbers were +all killed, much to the disgust of the lawyers, no doubt, though I could +never hear that honest people mourned. + +The man Hall was himself a gentleman of the romantic Southern soldier +type, and he entertained the highest ideals, with which it would be +extremely unsafe to trifle, if I may judge. Captain Shely, our other +visitor, was a herculean, black-eyed man, fairly fizzing with nervous +energy. He is also exceedingly shrewd, as befits the greater +concreteness of the modern Texas law, albeit he too has trailed bandits +in the chaparral, and rushed in on their camp-fires at night, as two big +bullet-holes in his skin will attest. He it was who arrested Polk, the +defaulting treasurer of Tennessee. He rode a Spanish pony sixty-two +miles in six hours, and arrested Polk, his guide, and two private +detectives, whom Polk had bribed to set him over the Rio Grande. When +the land of Texas was bought up and fenced with wire, the old settlers +who had used the land did not readily recognize the new regime. They +raised the rallying-cry of “free grass and free water”--said they had +fought the Indians off, and the land belonged to them. Taking nippers, +they rode by night and cut down miles of fencing. Shely took the keys of +a county jail from the frightened sheriff, made arrests by the score, +and lodged them in the big new jail. The country-side rose in arms, +surrounded the building, and threatened to tear it down. The big Ranger +was not deterred by this outburst, but quietly went out into the mob, +and with mock politeness delivered himself as follows: + +“Do not tear down the jail, gentlemen--you have been taxed for years to +build this fine structure--it is yours--do not tear it down. I will open +the doors wide--you can all come in--do not tear down the jail; but +there are twelve Rangers in there, with orders to kill as long as they +can see. Come right in, gentlemen--but come fixed.” + +The mob was overcome by his civility. + +Texas is to-day the only State in the Union where pistol-carry ing is +attended with great chances of arrest and fine. The law is supreme even +in the lonely _jacails_ out in the rolling waste of chaparral, and it +was made so by the tireless riding, the deadly shooting, and the +indomitable courage of the Texas Rangers. + + + + +THE BLUE QUAIL OF THE CACTUS + + +THE Quartermaster and I both had trouble which the doctors could not +cure--it was January, and it would not do for us to sit in a “blind “; +besides, I do not fancy that. There are ever so many men who are +comfortable all over when they are sitting in a blind waiting on the +vagrant flying of the ducks; but it is solemn, gloomy business, and, I +must say, sufficient reason why they take a drink every fifteen minutes +to keep up their enthusiasm. We both knew that the finest winter resort +for shot-gun folks was in the Southwest--down on the Rio Grande in +Texas--so we journeyed to Eagle Pass. As we got down from the train we +saw Captain Febiger in his long military cloak by a lantern-light. + +“Got any quail staked out for us, Feb?” asked the Quartermaster. + +“Oodles,” said Febiger; “get into my trap,” and we were rattled through +the unlighted street out to the camp, and brought up by the Captain's +quarters. + +In the morning we unpacked our trunks, and had everything on the floor +where we could see it, after the fashion with men. Captain Febiger's +baby boy came in to help us rummage in the heaps of canvas clothes, +ammunition, and what not besides, finally selecting for his amusement a +loaded Colt's revolver and a freshly honed razor. We were terrorized by +the possibilities of the combination. Our trying to take them away from +the youngster only made him yell like a cavern of demons. We howled for +his mother to come to our aid, which she finally did, and she separated +the kid from his toys. + +I put on my bloomers, when the Captain came in and viewed me, saying: +“Texas bikes; but it doesn't bloom yet. I don't know just what Texas +will do if you parade in those togs--but you can try.” + +As we sauntered down the dusty main street, Texas lounged in the +doorways or stood up in its buggy and stared at me. Texas grinned +cheerfully, too, but I did not care, so long as Texas kept its hand out +of its hip pocket. I was content to help educate Texas as to personal +comfort, at no matter what cost to myself. We passed into Mexico over +the Long Bridge to call on Senor Munos, who is the local czar, in hopes +of getting permits to be let alone by his chaparral-rangers while we +shot quail on their soil. In Mexico when the people observe an Americano +they simply shrug their shoulders; so our bloomers attracted no more +contempt than would an X-ray or a trolley-car. Senor Munos gave the +permits, after much stately compliment and many subtle ways, which made +us feel under a cloud of obligation. + +[Illustration: 07 LUNCHEON IN THE DESERT] + +The next morning an ambulance and escort-wagon drove up to the Captain's +quarters, and we loaded ourselves in--shot-guns, ammunition, blankets, +and the precious paper of Senor Munos; for, only the week before, the +custom-house rangers had carefully escorted an American hunting-party a +long distance back to the line for lack of the little paper and red +seals. We rattled over the bridge, past the Mexican barrack, while its +dark-skinned soldiery--who do not shoot quails--lounged in the sunshine +against the whitewashed wall. + +At the first outpost of the customs a little man, whose considerable +equatorial proportions were girted with a gun, examined our paper, and +waved us on our way. Under the railroad bridge of the International an +engineer blew his whistle, and our mules climbed on top of each other in +their terror. + +We wound along the little river, through irrigating ditches, past dozens +of those deliciously quaint adobe houses, past the inevitable church, +past a dead pony, ran over a chicken, made the little seven-year-old +girls take their five-year-old brothers up in their arms for protection, +and finally we climbed a long hill. At the top stretched an endless +plain. The road forked; presently it branched; anon it grew into twigs +of white dust on the gray levels of the background. The local physician +of Eagle Pass was of our party, and he was said to know where a certain +tank was to be found, some thirty miles out in the desert, but no man +yet created could know which twig of the road to take. He decided on +one--changed his mind--got out of the ambulance, scratched his head, +pondered, and finally resolution settled on his face. He motioned the +driver to a certain twig, got in, and shut his mouth firmly, thus +closing debate. We smoked silently, waiting for the doctor's mind to +fog. He turned uneasily in his seat, like the agitated needle of a +compass, and even in time hazarded the remark that something did not +look natural; but there was nothing to look at but flat land and flat +sky, unless a hawk sailing here and there. At noon we lunched at the +tail of the ambulance, and gently “jollied” the doctor's topography. We +pushed on. Later in the afternoon the thirsty mules went slowly. The +doctor had by this time admitted his doubts--some long blue hills on the +sky-line ought to be farther to the west, according to his remembrance. +As no one else had any ideas on the subject, the doctor's position was +not enviable. We changed our course, and travelled many weary miles +through the chaparral, which was high enough to stop our vision, and +stiff enough to bar our way, keeping us to narrow roads. At last the +bisecting cattle trails began to converge, and we knew that they led to +water--which they did; for shortly we saw a little broken adobe, a +tumbled brush corral, the plastered gate of an _acequia,_ and the blue +water of the tank. + +[Illustration: 08 SUPPER IN THE CORRAL] + +To give everything its due proportion at this point, we gathered to +congratulate the doctor as we passed the flask. The camp was pitched +within the corral, and while the cook got supper we stood in the +after-glow on the bank of the tank and saw the ducks come home, heard +the mud-hens squddle, while high in the air flew the long line of +sand-hill cranes with a hoarse clangor. It was quite dark when we sat on +the “grub” chests and ate by the firelight, while out in the desert the +coyotes shrilled to the monotonous accompaniment of the mules crunching +their feed and stamping wearily. To-morrow it was proposed to hunt ducks +in their morning flight, which means getting up before daylight, so bed +found us early. It seemed but a minute after I had sought my blankets +when I was being abused by the Captain, being pushed with his +foot--fairly rolled over by him--he even standing on my body as he +shouted, “Get up, if you are going hunting. It will be light +directly--get up!” And this, constantly recurring, is one reason why I +do not care for duck-shooting. + +But, in order to hunt, I had to get up, and file off in the line of +ghosts, stumbling, catching, on the chaparral, and splashing in the mud. +I led a setter-dog, and was presently directed to sit down in some damp +grass, because it was a good place--certainly not to sit down in, but +for other reasons. I sat there in the dark, petting the good dog, and +watching the sky grow pale in the east. This is not to mention the +desire for breakfast, or the damp, or the sleepiness, but this is really +the larger part of duck-hunting. Of course if I later had a dozen good +shots it might compensate--but I did not have a dozen shots. + +The day came slowly out of the east, the mud-hens out in the marsh +splashed about in the rushes, a sailing hawk was visible against the +gray sky overhead, and I felt rather insignificant, not to say +contemptible, as I sat there in the loneliness of this big nature which +worked around me. The dog dignified the situation--he was a part of +nature's belongings--while I somehow did not seem to grace the solitude. +The grays slowly grew into browns on the sedge-grass, and the water to +silver. A bright flash of fire shot out of the dusk far up in the gloom, +and the dull report of a shot-gun came over the tank. Black objects fled +across the sky--the ducks were flying. I missed one or two, and grew +weary--none came near enough to my lair. Presently it was light, and I +got a fair shot. My bird tumbled into the rushes out in front of me, and +the setter bounded in to retrieve. He searched vehemently, but the +wounded duck dived in front of him. He came ashore shortly, and lying +down, he bit at himself and pawed and rolled. He was a mass of +cockle-burs. I took him on my lap and laboriously picked cockle-burs out +of his hair for a half-hour; then, shouldering my gun, I turned +tragically to the water and anathematized its ducks--all ducks, my +fellow-duckers, all thoughts and motives concerning ducks--and then +strode into the chaparral. “Hie on! hie on!” I tossed my arm, and the +setter began to hunt beautifully--glad, no doubt, to leave all thoughts +of the cockle-burs and evasive ducks behind. I worked up the shore of +the tank, keeping back in the brush, and got some fun. After chasing +about for some time I came out near the water. My dog pointed. I glided +forward, and came near shooting the Quartermaster, who sat in a bunch of +sedge-grass, with a dead duck by his side. He was smoking, and was +disgusted with ducks. He joined me, and shortly, as we crossed the road, +the long Texas doctor, who owned the dog, came striding down the way. He +was ready for quail now, and we started. + +[Illustration: 09 ON THE SHORE OF THE TANK--MORNING] + +The quail-hunting is active work. The dog points, but one nearly always +finds the birds running from one prickly-pear bush to another. They do +not stand, rarely flush, and when they do get up it is only to swoop +ahead to the nearest cover, where they settle quickly. One must be sharp +in his shooting--he cannot select his distance, for the cactus lies +thick about, and the little running bird is only on view for the +shortest of moments. You must overrun a dog after his first point, since +he works too close behind them. The covey will keep together if not +pursued with too much haste, and one gets shot after shot; still, at +last you must run lively, as the frightened covey scurry along at a +remarkable pace. Heavy shot are necessary, since the blue quail carry +lead like Marshal Massena, and are much harder to kill than the +bob-white. Three men working together can get shooting enough out of a +bunch--the chase often continuing for a mile, when the covey gradually +separate, the sportsmen following individual birds. + +[Illustration: 10 RUNNING BLUE QUAIL] + +Where the prickly-pear cactus is thickest, there are the blue quail, +since that is their feed and water supply. This same cactus makes a +difficulty of pursuit, for it bristles with spines, which come off on +your clothing, and when they enter the skin make most uncomfortable and +persistent sores. The Quartermaster had an Indian tobacco-bag dangling +at his belt, and as it flopped in his progress it gathered prickers, +which it shortly transferred to his luckless legs, until he at last +detected the reason why he bristled so fiercely. And the poor dog--at +every covey we had to stop and pick needles out of him. The haunts of +the blue quail are really no place for a dog, as he soon becomes +useless. One does not need him, either, since the blue quail will not +flush until actually kicked into the air. + +Jack and cotton-tail rabbits fled by hundreds before us. They are +everywhere, and afford good shooting between coveys, it being quick work +to get a cotton-tail as he flashes between the net-work of protecting +cactus. Coyotes lope away in our front, but they are too wild for a +shot-gun. It must ever be in a man's mind to keep his direction, because +it is such a vastly simple thing to get lost in the chaparral, where you +cannot see a hundred yards. Mexico has such a considerable territory +that a man on foot may find it inconvenient to beat up a town in the +desolation of thorn-bush. + +There is an action about blue-quail shooting which is next to buffalo +shooting--it's run, shoot, pick up your bird, scramble on in your +endeavor to keep the skirmish-line of your two comrades; and at last, +when you have concluded to stop, you can mop your forehead--the Mexican +sun shines hot even in midwinter. + +Later in the afternoon we get among bob-white in a grassy tract, and +while they are clean work--good dog-play, and altogether more +satisfactory shooting than any other I know of--I am yet much inclined +to the excitement of chasing after game which you can see at intervals. +Let it not be supposed that it is less difficult to hit a running blue +quail as he shoots through the brush than a flying bob-white, for the +experience of our party has settled that, and one gets ten shots at the +blue to one at the bob-white, because of their number. As to eating, we +could not tell the difference; but I will not insist that this is final. +A man who comes in from an all day's run in the brush does not care +whether the cook gives him boiled beans, watermelon, or crackers and +jam; so how is he to know what a bird's taste is when served to a tame +appetite? + +[Illustration: 11 TOO BIG GAME FOR NUMBER SIX] + +At intervals we ran into the wild cattle which threaded their way to +water, and it makes one nervous. It is of no use to say “Soo-bossy,” or +to give him a charge of No. 6; neither is it well to run. If the +_matadores_ had any of the sensations which I have experienced, the gate +receipts at the bull-rings would have to go up. When a big long-horn +fastens a quail-shooter with his great open brown eye in a chaparral +thicket, you are not inclined to “call his hand.” If he will call it a +misdeal, you are with him. + +We were banging away, the Quartermaster and I, when a human voice began +yelling like mad from the brush ahead. We advanced, to find a +Mexican--rather well gotten up--who proceeded to wave his arms like a +parson who had reached “sixthly” in his sermon, and who proceeded +thereat to overwhelm us with his eloquence. The Quartermaster and I +“_buenos dias-ed_” and “_si, senor-ed_” him in our helpless Spanish, and +asked each other, nervously, “What de'll.” After a long time he seemed +to be getting through with his subject, his sentences became separated, +he finally emitted monosyllables only along with his scowls, and we +tramped off into the brush. It was a pity he spent so much energy, since +it could only arouse our curiosity without satisfying it. + +In camp that night we told the Captain of our excited Mexican friend out +in the brush, and our cook had seen sinister men on ponies passing near +our camp. The Captain became solicitous, and stationed a night-guard +over his precious government mules. It would never do to have a bandit +get away with a U. S. brand. It never does matter about private +property, but anything with U. S. on it has got to be looked after, like +a croupy child. + +We had some good days' sport, and no more formidable enterprise against +the night-guard was attempted than the noisy approach of a white +jackass. The tents were struck and loaded when it began to rain. We +stood in the shelter of the escort-wagon, and the storm rose to a +hurricane. Our corral became a tank; but shortly the black clouds passed +north, and we pulled out. The twig ran into a branch, and the branch +struck the trunk near the bluffs over the Rio Grande, and in town there +stood the Mexican soldiers leaning against the wall as we had left them. +We wondered if they had moved meanwhile. + + + + +A SERGEANT OF THE ORPHAN TROOP + + +WHILE it is undisputed that Captain Dodd's troop of the Third Cavalry is +not an orphan, and is, moreover, quite as far from it as any troop of +cavalry in the world, all this occurred many years ago, when it was, at +any rate, so called. There was nothing so very unfortunate about it, +from what I can gather, since it seems to have fought well on its own +hook, quite up to all expectations, if not beyond. No officer at that +time seemed to care to connect his name with such a rioting, +nose-breaking band of desperado cavalrymen, unless it was temporarily, +and that was always in the field, and never in garrison. However, in +this case it did not have even an officer in the field. But let me go on +to my sergeant. + +This one was a Southern gentleman, or rather a boy, when he refugeed out +of Fredericksburg with his family, before the Federal advance, in a +wagon belonging to a Mississippi rifle regiment; but nevertheless some +years later he got to be a gentleman, and passed through the Virginia +Military Institute with honor. The desire to be a soldier consumed him, +but the vicissitudes of the times compelled him, if he wanted to be a +soldier, to be a private one, which he became by duly enlisting in the +Third Cavalry. He struck the Orphan Troop. + +Physically, Nature had slobbered all over Carter Johnson; she had +lavished on him her very last charm. His skin was pink, albeit the years +of Arizona sun had heightened it to a dangerous red; his mustache was +yellow and ideally military; while his pure Virginia accent, fired in +terse and jerky form at friend and enemy alike, relieved his natural +force of character by a shade of humor. He was thumped and bucked and +pounded into what was in the seventies considered a proper frontier +soldier, for in those days the nursery idea had not been lugged into the +army. If a sergeant bade a soldier “go” or “do,” he instantly “went” or +“did”--otherwise the sergeant belted him over the head with his +six-shooter, and had him taken off in a cart. On pay-days, too, when men +who did not care to get drunk went to bed in barracks, they slept under +their bunks and not in them, which was conducive to longevity and a good +night's rest. When buffalo were scarce they ate the army rations in +those wild days; they had a fight often enough to earn thirteen dollars, +and at times a good deal more. This was the way with all men at that +time, but it was rough on recruits. + +So my friend Carter Johnson wore through some years, rose to be a +corporal, finally a sergeant, and did many daring deeds. An atavism from +“the old border riders” of Scotland shone through the boy, and he took +on quickly. He could act the others off the stage and sing them out of +the theatre in his chosen profession. + +There was fighting all day long around Fort Robinson, Nebraska--a +bushwhacking with Dull-Knife's band of the Northern Cheyennes, the +Spartans of the plains. It was January; the snow lay deep on the ground, +and the cold was knife-like as it thrust at the fingers and toes of the +Orphan Troop. Sergeant Johnson with a squad of twenty men, after having +been in the saddle all night, was in at the post drawing rations for the +troop. As they were packing them up for transport, a detachment of F +Troop came galloping by, led by the sergeant's friend, Corporal +Thornton. They pulled up. + +“Come on, Carter--go with us. I have just heard that some troops have +got a bunch of Injuns corralled out in the hills. They can't get 'em +down. Let's go help 'em. It's a chance for the fight of your life. Come +on.” + +Carter hesitated for a moment. He had drawn the rations for his troop, +which was in sore need of them. It might mean a court-martial and the +loss of his chevrons--but a fight! Carter struck his spurred heels, +saying, “Come on, boys; get your horses; we will go.” + +The line of cavalry was half lost in the flying snow as it cantered away +over the white flats. The dry powder crunched under the thudding hoofs, +the carbines banged about, the overcoat capes blew and twisted in the +rushing air, the horses grunted and threw up their heads as the spurs +went into their bellies, while the men's faces were serious with the +interest in store. Mile after mile rushed the little column, until it +came to some bluffs, where it drew reign and stood gazing across the +valley to the other hills. + +Down in the bottoms they espied an officer and two men sitting quietly +on their horses, and on riding up found a lieutenant gazing at the +opposite bluffs through a glass. Far away behind the bluffs a sharp ear +could detect the reports of guns. + +“We have been fighting the Indians all day here,” said the officer, +putting down his glass and turning to the two “non-coms.” “The command +has gone around the bluffs. I have just seen Indians up there on the +rim-rocks. I have sent for troops, in the hope that we might get up +there. Sergeant, deploy as skirmishers, and we will try.” + +[Illustration: 12 MILE AFTER MILE RUSHED THE LITTLE COLUMN] + +At a gallop the men fanned out, then forward at a sharp trot across the +flats, over the little hills, and into the scrub pine. The valley +gradually narrowed until it forced the skirmishers into a solid body, +when the lieutenant took the lead, with the command tailing out in +single file. The signs of the Indians grew thicker and thicker--a +skirmisher's nest here behind a scrub-pine bush, and there by the side +of a rock. Kettles and robes lay about in the snow, with three “bucks” + and some women and children sprawling about, frozen as they had died; +but all was silent except the crunch of the snow and the low whispers of +the men as they pointed to the telltales of the morning's battle. + +As the column approached the precipitous rim-rock the officer halted, +had the horses assembled in a side canon, putting Corporal Thornton in +charge. He ordered Sergeant Johnson to again advance his skirmish-line, +in which formation the men moved forward, taking cover behind the pine +scrub and rocks, until they came to an open space of about sixty paces, +while above it towered the cliff for twenty feet in the sheer. There the +Indians had been last seen. The soldiers lay tight in the snow, and no +man's valor impelled him on. To the casual glance the rim-rock was +impassable. The men were discouraged and the officer nonplussed. A +hundred rifles might be covering the rock fort for all they knew. On +closer examination a cutting was found in the face of the rock which was +a rude attempt at steps, doubtless made long ago by the Indians. Caught +on a bush above, hanging down the steps, was a lariat, which, at the +bottom, was twisted around the shoulders of a dead warrior. They had +evidently tried to take him up while wounded, but he had died and had +been abandoned. + +After cogitating, the officer concluded not to order his men forward, +but he himself stepped boldly out into the open and climbed up. Sergeant +Johnson immediately followed, while an old Swedish soldier by the name +of Otto Bordeson fell in behind them. They walked briskly up the hill, +and placing their backs against the wall of rock, stood gazing at the +Indian. + +With a grin the officer directed the men to advance. The sergeant, +seeing that he realized their serious predicament, said: + +“I think, lieutenant, you had better leave them where they are; we are +holding this rock up pretty hard.” + +[Illustration: 13 THE HORSES ASSEMBLED IN A SIDE CANYON] + +They stood there and looked at each other. “We's in a fix,” said Otto. + +“I want volunteers to climb this rock,” finally demanded the officer. + +The sergeant looked up the steps, pulled at the lariat, and commented: +“Only one man can go at a time; if there are Indians up there, an old +squaw can kill this command with a hatchet; and if there are no Indians, +we can all go up.” + +The impatient officer started up, but the sergeant grabbed him by the +belt. He turned, saying, “If I haven't got men to go, I will climb +myself.” + +“Stop, lieutenant. It wouldn't look right for the officer to go. I have +noticed a pine-tree, the branches of which spread over the top of the +rock,” and the sergeant pointed to it. “If you will make the men cover +the top of the rim-rock with their rifles, Bordeson and I will go up;” + and turning to the Swede, “Will you go, Otto?” + +“I will go anywhere the sergeant does,” came his gallant reply. + +“Take your choice, then, of the steps or the pine-tree,” continued the +Virginian; and after a rather short but sharp calculation the Swede +declared for the tree, although both were death if the Indians were on +the rim-rock. He immediately began sidling along the rock to the tree, +and slowly commenced the ascent. The sergeant took a few steps up the +cutting, holding on by the rope. The officer stood out and smiled +quizzically. Jeers came from behind the soldiers' bushes--“Go it, Otto! +Go it, Johnson! Your feet are loaded! If a snow-bird flies, you will +drop dead! Do you need any help? You'd make a hell of a sailor!” and +other gibes. + +The gray clouds stretched away monotonously over the waste of snow, and +it was cold. The two men climbed slowly, anon stopping to look at each +other and smile. They were monkeying with death. + +At last the sergeant drew himself up, slowly raised his head, and saw +snow and broken rock. Otto lifted himself likewise, and he too saw +nothing Rifle-shots came clearly to their ears from far in front--many +at one time, and scattering at others. Now the soldiers came briskly +forward, dragging up the cliff in single file. The dull noises of the +fight came through the wilderness. The skirmish-line drew quickly +forward and passed into the pine woods, but the Indian trails scattered. +Dividing into sets of four, they followed on the tracks of small +parties, wandering on until night threatened. At length the main trail +of the fugitive band ran across their front, bringing the command +together. It was too late for the officer to get his horses before dark, +nor could he follow with his exhausted men, so he turned to the sergeant +and asked him to pick some men and follow on the trail. The sergeant +picked Otto Borde-son, who still affirmed that he would go anywhere that +Johnson went, and they started. They were old hunting companions, having +confidence in each other's sense and shooting. They ploughed through the +snow, deeper and deeper into the pines, then on down a canon where the +light was failing. The sergeant was sweating freely; he raised his hand +to press his fur cap backward from his forehead. He drew it quickly +away; he stopped and started, caught Otto by the sleeve, and drew a long +breath. Still holding his companion, he put his glove again to his nose, +sniffed at it again, and with a mighty tug brought the startled Swede to +his knees, whispering, “I smell Indians; I can sure smell 'em, +Otto--can you?” Otto sniffed, and whispered back, “Yes, plain!” “We are +ambushed! Drop!” and the two soldiers sunk in the snow. A few feet in +front of them lay a dark thing; crawling to it, they found a large +calico rag, covered with blood. + +[Illustration: 14 THE TWO MEN CLIMBED SLOWLY] + +“Let's do something, Carter; we's in a fix.” “If we go down, Otto, we +are gone; if we go back, we are gone; let's go forward,” hissed the +sergeant. + +Slowly they crawled from tree to tree. + +“Don't you see the Injuns?” said the Swede, as he pointed to the rocks +in front, where lay their dark forms. The still air gave no sound. The +cathedral of nature, with its dark pine trunks starting from gray snow +to support gray sky, was dead. Only human hearts raged, for the forms +which held them lay like black bowlders. + +“Egah--lelah washatah,” yelled the sergeant. + +Two rifle-shots rang and reverberated down the canon; two more replied +instantly from the soldiers. One Indian sunk, and his carbine went +clanging down the rocks, burying itself in the snow. Another warrior +rose slightly, took aim, but Johnson's six-shooter cracked again, and +the Indian settled slowly down without firing. A squaw moved slowly in +the half-light to where the buck lay. Bordeson drew a bead with his +carbine. + +“Don't shoot the woman, Otto. Keep that hole covered; the place is alive +with Indians;” and both lay still. + +A buck rose quickly, looked at the sergeant, and dropped back. The +latter could see that he had him located, for he slowly poked his rifle +up without showing his head. Johnson rolled swiftly to one side, aiming +with his deadly revolver. Up popped the Indian's head, crack went the +six-shooter; the head turned slowly, leaving the top exposed. Crack +again went the alert gun of the soldier, the ball striking the head just +below the scalp-lock and instantly jerking the body into a kneeling +position. + +Then all was quiet in the gloomy woods. + +After a time the sergeant addressed his voice to the lonely place in +Sioux, telling the women to come out and surrender--to leave the bucks, +etc. + +An old squaw rose sharply to her feet, slapped her breast, shouted +“Lelah washatah,” and gathering up a little girl and a bundle, she +strode forward to the soldiers. Three other women followed, two of them +in the same blanket. + +“Are there any more bucks?” roared the sergeant, in Sioux. + +“No more alive,” said the old squaw, in the same tongue. + +“Keep your rifle on the hole between the rocks; watch these people; I +will go up,” directed the sergeant, as he slowly mounted to the ledge, +and with levelled six-shooter peered slowly over. He stepped in and +stood looking down on the dead warriors. + +A yelling in broken English smote the startled sergeant. “Tro up your +hands, you d---- Injun! I'll blow the top off you!” came through the +quiet. The sergeant sprang down to see the Swede standing with carbine +levelled at a young buck confronting him with a drawn knife in his +hands, while his blanket lay back on the snow. + +“He's a buck--he ain't no squaw; he tried to creep on me with a knife. +I'm going to kill him,” shouted the excited Bordeson. + +“No, no, don't kill him. Otto, don't you kill him,” expostulated +Johnson, as the Swede's finger clutched nervously at the trigger, and +turning, he roared, “Throw away that knife, you d------Indian!” + +The detachment now came charging in through the snow, and gathered +around excitedly. A late arrival came up, breathing heavily, dropped his +gun, and springing up and down, yelled, “Be jabbers, I have got among om +at last!” A general laugh went up, and the circle of men broke into a +straggling line for the return. The sergeant took the little girl up in +his arms. She grabbed him fiercely by the throat like a wild-cat, +screaming. While nearly choking, he yet tried to mollify her, while her +mother, seeing no harm was intended, pacified her in the soft gutturals +of the race. She relaxed her grip, and the brave Virginian packed her +down the mountain, wrapped in his soldier cloak. The horses were reached +in time, and the prisoners put on double behind the soldiers, who fed +them crackers as they marched. At two o'clock in the morning the little +command rode into Fort Robinson and dismounted at the guardhouse. The +little girl, who was asleep and half frozen in Johnson's overcoat, would +not go to her mother: poor little cat, she had found a nest. The +sergeant took her into the guard-house, where it was warm. She soon fell +asleep, and slowly he undid her, delivering her to her mother. On the +following morning he came early to the guard-house, loaded with trifles +for his little Indian girl. He had expended all his credit at the +post-trader's, but he could carry sentiment no further, for “To horse!” + was sounding, and he joined the Orphan Troop to again ride on the +Dull-Knife trail. The brave Cheyennes were running through the frosty +hills, and the cavalry horses pressed hotly after. For ten days the +troops surrounded the Indians by day, and stood guard in the snow by +night, but coming day found the ghostly warriors gone and their +rifle-pits empty. They were cut off and slaughtered daily, but the +gallant warriors were fighting to their last nerve. Towards the end they +were cooped in a gully on War-Bon-natt Creek, where they fortified; but +two six-pounders had been hauled out, and were turned on their works. +The four troops of cavalry stood to horse on the plains all day, waiting +for the poor wretches to come out, while the guns roared, ploughing the +frozen dirt and snow over their little stronghold; but they did not come +out. It was known that all the provisions they had was the dead horse of +a corporal of E Troop, which had been shot within twenty paces of their +rifle-pits. + +[Illustration: 15 BRAVE CHEYENNES RUNNING THROUGH THE FROSTY HILLS] + +So, too, the soldiers were starving, and the poor Orphans had only +crackers to eat. They were freezing also, and murmuring to be led to +“the charge,” that they might end it there, but they were an orphan +troop, and must wait for others to say. The sergeant even asked an +officer to let them go, but was peremptorily told to get back in the +ranks. + +The guns ceased at night, while the troops drew off to build fires, warm +their rigid fingers, thaw out their buffalo moccasins, and munch +crackers, leaving a strong guard around the Cheyennes. In the night +there was a shooting--the Indians had charged through and had gone. + +The day following they were again surrounded on some bluffs, and the +battle waged until night. Next day there was a weak fire from the Indian +position on the impregnable bluffs, and presently it ceased entirely. +The place was approached with care and trepidation, but was empty. Two +Indian boys, with their feet frozen, had been left as decoys, and after +standing off four troops of cavalry for hours, they too had in some +mysterious way departed. + +[Illustration: 16 THROUGH THE SMOKE SPRANG THE DARING SOLDIER] + +But the pursuit was relentless; on, on over the rolling hills swept the +famishing troopers, and again the Spartan band turned at bay, firmly +intrenched on a bluff as before. This was the last stand--nature was +exhausted. The soldiers surrounded them, and Major Wessells turned the +handle of the human vise. The command gathered closer about the doomed +pits--they crawled on their bellies from one stack of sage-brush to the +next. They were freezing. The order to charge came to the Orphan Troop, +and yelling his command, Sergeant Johnson ran forward. Up from the +sage-brush floundered the stiffened troopers, following on. They ran +over three Indians, who lay sheltered in a little cut, and these killed +three soldiers together with an old frontier sergeant who wore long +hair, but they were destroyed in turn. While the Orphans swarmed under +the hill, a rattling discharge poured from the rifle-pits; but the troop +had gotten under the fire, and it all passed over their heads. On they +pressed, their blood now quickened by excitement, crawling up the steep, +while volley on volley poured over them. Within nine feet of the pits +was a rim-rock ledge over which the Indian bullets swept, and here the +charge was stopped. It now became a duel. + +Every time a head showed on either side, it drew fire like a flue-hole. +Suddenly our Virginian sprang on the ledge, and like a trill on a piano +poured a six-shooter into the intrenchment, and dropped back. + +Major Wessells, who was commanding the whole force, crawled to the +position of the Orphan Troop, saying, “Doing fine work, boys. Sergeant, +I would advise you to take off that red scarf “--when a bullet cut the +major across the breast, whirling him around and throwing him. A +soldier, one Lannon, sprang to him and pulled him down the bluff, the +major protesting that he was not wounded, which proved to be true, the +bullet having passed through his heavy clothes. + +The troops had drawn up on the other sides, and a perfect storm of +bullets whirled over the in-trenchments. The powder blackened the faces +of the men, and they took off their caps or had them shot off. To raise +the head for more than a fraction of a second meant death. + +Johnson had exchanged five shots with a fine-looking Cheyenne, and every +time he raised his eye to a level with the rock White Antelope's gun +winked at him. + +“You will get killed directly,” yelled Lannon to Johnson; “they have you +spotted.” + +The smoke blew and eddied over them; again Johnson rose, and again White +Antelope's pistol cracked an accompaniment to his own; but with movement +like lightning the sergeant sprang through the smoke, and fairly shoving +his carbine to White Antelope's breast, he pulled the trigger. A +50-calibre gun boomed in Johnson's face, and a volley roared from the +pits, but he fell backward into cover. His comrades set him up to see if +any red stains came through the grime, but he was unhurt. + +[Illustration: 17 THIS TIME THE AIR GREW CLEAR] + +The firing grew; a blue haze hung over the hill. Johnson again looked +across the glacis, but again his eye met the savage glare of White +Antelope. + +“I haven't got him yet, Lannon, but I will;” and Sergeant Johnson again +slowly reloaded his pistol and carbine. + +“Now, men, give them a volley!” ordered the enraged man, and as volley +answered volley, through the smoke sprang the daring soldier, and +standing over White Antelope as the smoke swirled and almost hid him, he +poured his six balls into his enemy, and thus died one brave man at the +hands of another in fair battle. The sergeant leaped back and lay down +among the men, stunned by the concussions. He said he would do no more. +His mercurial temperament had undergone a change, or, to put it better, +he conceived it to be outrageous to fight these poor people, five +against one. He characterized it as “a d---- infantry fight,” and +rising, talked in Sioux to the enemy--asked them to surrender, or they +must otherwise die. A young girl answered him, and said they would like +to. An old woman sprang on her and cut her throat with a dull knife, +yelling meanwhile to the soldiers that “they would never surrender +alive,” and saying what she had done. + +Many soldiers were being killed, and the fire from the pits grew weaker. +The men were beside themselves with rage. “Charge!” rang through the now +still air from some strong voice, and, with a volley, over the works +poured the troops, with six-shooters going, and clubbed carbines. Yells, +explosions, and amid a whirlwind of smoke the soldiers and Indians +swayed about, now more slowly and quieter, until the smoke eddied away. +Men stood still, peering about with wild open eyes through blackened +faces. They held desperately to their weapons. An old bunch of buckskin +rags rose slowly and fired a carbine aimlessly. Twenty bullets rolled +and tumbled it along the ground, and again the smoke drifted off the +mount. This time the air grew clear. Buffalo-robes lay all about, blood +spotted everywhere. The dead bodies of thirty-two Cheyennes lay, writhed +and twisted, on the packed snow, and among them many women and children, +cut and furrowed with lead. In a corner was a pile of wounded squaws, +half covered with dirt swept over them by the storm of bullets. One +broken creature half raised herself from the bunch. A maddened trumpeter +threw up his gun to shoot, but Sergeant Johnson leaped and kicked his +gun out of his hands high into the air, saying, “This fight is over.” + + + + +THE SPIRIT OF MAHONGUI + + +IT is so I have called this old document, which is an extract from the +memoirs of le Chevalier Bailloquet, a Frenchman living in Canada, where +he was engaged in the Indian fur trade, about the middle of the +seventeenth century, and as yet they are unpublished. + +It is written in English, since the author lived his latter life in +England, having left Canada as the result of troubles with the +authorities. + +He was captured by the Iroquois, and after living with them some time, +made his escape to the Dutch. + +My Chevalier rambles somewhat, although I have been at pains to cut out +extraneous matter. It is also true that many will not believe him in +these days, for out of their puny volition they will analyze, and out of +their discontent they will scoff. But to those I say, Go to your +microbes, your statistics, your volts, and your bicycles, and leave me +the truth of other days. + +[Illustration: 18 THIS WAS A FATAL EMBARQUATION] + +The Chevalier was on a voyage from Quebec to Montreal; let him begin: + +The next day we embarqued, though not without confusion, because many +weare not content, nor satisfied. What a pleasure ye two fathers to see +them trott up and downe ye rocks to gett their manage into ye boat. The +boats weare so loaded that many could not proceed if foul weather should +happen. I could not persuade myself to stay with this concourse as ye +weather was faire for my journie. Without adoe, I gott my six wild men +to paddle on ye way. + +This was a fatal embarquation, butt I did not mistrust that ye Iriquoits +weare abroad in ye forest, for I had been at ye Peace. Nevertheless I +find that these wild men doe naught butt what they resolve out of their +bloodie mindedness. We passed the Point going out of ye Lake St. Peter, +when ye Barbars appeared on ye watter-side discharging their muskets at +us, and embarquing for our pursuit. + +“Kohe--kohe!”--came nearer ye fearsome warre cry of ye Iriquoit, making +ye hearts of ye poore Hurron & ffrench alike to turn to water in their +breasts. 2 of my savages weare strook downe at ye first discharge & +another had his paddle cutt in twain, besides shott holes through with +the watter poured apace. Thus weare we diminished and could not draw +off. + +The Barbars weare daubed with paint, which is ye signe of warre. They +coming against our boat struck downe our Hurrons with hattchetts, such +as did not jump into the watter, where also they weare in no wise saved. + +But in my boat was a Hurron Captayne, who all his life-time had killed +many Iriquoits & by his name for vallor had come to be a great Captayne +att home and abroad. We weare resolved some execution & with our gunns +dealt a discharge & drew our cutlasses to strike ye foe. They environed +us as we weare sinking, and one spake saying--“Brothers, cheere up and +assure yourselfe you shall not be killed; thou art both men and +Cap-taynes, as I myself am, and I will die in thy defense.” And ye +afforesaid crew shewed such a horrid noise, of a sudden ye Iriquoit +Captayne took hold about me--“Thou shalt not die by another hand than +mine.” + +Ye savages layd bye our armes & tyed us fast in a boat, one in one boat +and one in another. We proceeded up ye river, rather sleeping than +awake, for I thought never to escape. + +Att near sunsett we weare taken on ye shore, where ye wild men encamped +bye making cottages of rind from off ye trees. They tyed ye Hurron +Captayne to a trunk, he resolving most bravely but dessparred to me, and +I too dessparred. Nevertheless he sang his fatal song though ye fire +made him as one with the ague. They tooke out his heart and cut off some +of ye flesh of ye miserable, boyled it and eat it. This they wished not +to doe att this time, but that ye Hurron had been shott with a ball +under his girdle where it was not seen, though he would have died of his +desperate wound. That was the miserable end of that wretch. + +Whilst they weare busy with ye Hurron, they having stripped me naked, +tyed me above ye elbows, and wrought a rope about my middle. They afked +me several questions, I not being able to answer, they gave me great +blows with their fists, then pulled out one of my nails. Having lost all +hopes, I resolved altogether to die, itt being folly to think otherwise. + +I could not flee, butt was flung into a boat att daylight. Ye boats went +all abreaft, ye wild men singing some of their fatal songs, others their +howls of victory, ye wild “Kohes,” beating giens & parchments, blowing +whistles, and all manner of tumult. + +Thus did we proceed with these ravening wolves, God having delivered a +Chriftian into ye power of Satan. + +I was nott ye only one in ye claws of these wolves, for we fell in with +150 more of these cruels, who had Hurron captyves to ye number of 33 +victimes, with heads alsoe stuck on poles, of those who in God's mercie +weare gone from their miseries. As for me, I was put in a boat with one +who had his fingers cutt & bourned. I asked him why ye Iriquoits had +broak ye Peace, and he said they had told him ye ffrench had broak ye +Peace; that ye ffrench had set their pack of doggs on an olde Iriquoit +woman who was eat up alive & that ye Iriquoits had told ye Hurron wild +men that they had killed ye doggs, alsoe Hurrons and ffrench, saying +that as to ye captyves, they would boyl doggs, Hurrons, and ffrench in +ye same kettle. + +A great rain arose, ye Iriquoits going to ye watter-side did cover +themselvs with their boats, holding ye captyves ye meanwhile bye ropes +bound about our ancles, while we stood out in ye storm, which was near +to causing me death from my nakedness. When ye rain had abated, we +pursued our way killing staggs, & I was given some entrails, which +before I had only a little parched corne to ye extent of my handfull. + +At a point we mett a gang of ye head hunters all on ye shore, dancing +about a tree to which was tyed a fine ffrench mastiff dogg, which was +standing on its hinder leggs, being lashed up against a tree by its +middle. Ye dogg was in a great terror, and frantic in its bonds. I knew +him for a dogg from ye fort att Mont-royal, kept for to give warnings of +ye Enemy's approach. It was a strange sight for to see ye Heathen rage +about ye noble dogg, but he itt was nevertheless which brought ye +Barbars against us. He was only gott with great difficulty, having +killed one Barbar, and near to serving others like-wise. + +They untyed ye dogg, I holding him one side, and ye other, with cords +they brought and tyed him in ye bow of a boat with 6 warriors to paddle +him. Ye dogg boat was ye Head, while ye rest came on up ye river singing +fatal songs, triumph songs, piping, howling, & ye dogg above all with +his great noise. Ye Barbars weare more delighted att ye captyve dogg +than att all of us poore Christians, for that they did say he was no +dogg. Ye doggs which ye wild men have are nott so great as wolves, they +being little else & small att that. Ye mastiff was considered as a +consequence to be a great interest. This one had near defeated their +troupe & now was to be horridly killed after ye bloody way of ye wild +men. + +Att camp they weare sleep most of ye night, they being aweary with ye +torture of ye Hurron Captayne previously. Ye dogg was tyed & layd nott +far off from where I was alsoe tyed, butt over him weare 2 olde men, who +guarded him of a fear he would eat away his ropes. These men weare +Elders or Priests, such as are esteemed for their power over spirits, & +they did keep up their devil's song ye night thro. + +I made a vertue of necessity & did sleep, butt was early cast into a +boat to go on towards ye Enemy's countrie, tho we had raw meat given us, +with blows on ye mouth to make us ye more quickly devour itt. An +Iriquoit who was the Captayne in our boat, bade me to be of a good +courage, as they would not hurt me. Ye fmall knowledge I had of their +speech made a better hope, butt one who could have understood them would +have been certainly in a great terror. + +Thus we journied 8 days on ye Lake Champlaine, where ye wind and waves +did sore beset our endeavors att times. As for meate we wanted none, as +we had a store of staggs along ye watter-side. We killed some every day, +more for sport than for need. We finding them on Isles, made them go +into ye watter, & after we killed above a score, we clipped ye ears of +ye rest & hung bells on them, and then lett them loose. What a sport to +see ye rest flye from them that had ye bells! + +There came out of ye vast forest a multitude of bears, 300 at least +together, making a horrid noise, breaking ye small trees. We shott att +them, butt they stirred not a step. We weare much frightened that they +stirred nott att our shooting. Ye great ffrench dogg would fain +encounter them notwithftanding he was tyed. He made ye watter-side to +ring with his heavy voise & from his eyes came flames of fyre & clouds +from out his mouth. The bears did straightway fly which much cheered ye +Iri-quoits. One said to me they weare resolved nott to murder ye dogg, +which was a stone-God in ye dogg shape, or a witch, butt I could nott +fully understand. Ye wild men said they had never heard their fathers +speak of so many bears. + +When we putt ye kettle on, ye wild man who had captured me, gave me of +meate to eat, & told me a story. “Brother,” says he, “itt is a thing to +be admired to goe afar to travell. You must know that tho I am olde, I +have always loved ye ffrench for their goodness, but they should have +given us to kill ye Algonkins. We should not warre against ye ffrench, +butt trade with them for Castors, who are better for traffic than ye +Dutch. I was once a Captayne of 13 men against ye Altignaonan-ton & ye +ffrench. We stayed 3 whole winters among ye Ennemy, butt in ye daytime +durst not marche nor stay out of ye deep forest. We killed many, butt +there weare devils who took my son up in ye air so I could never again +get him back. These devils weare as bigg as horriniacs, [moose] & ye +little blue birds which attend upon them, said itt was time for us to go +back to our people, which being resolved to do, we came back, butt nott +of a fear of ye Ennemy. Our warre song grew still on our lipps, as ye +snow falling in ye forest. I have nott any more warred to the North, +until I was told by ye spirits to go to ye ffrench & recover my son. My +friend, I have dreamed you weare my son;” and henceforth I was not +hurted nor starved for food. + +We proceeded thro rivers & lakes & thro forests where I was made to +support burdens. When we weare come to ye village of ye Iriquoits we lay +in ye woods because that they would nott go into ye village in ye night +time. + +The following day we weare marched into ye brough [borough] of ye +Iriquoits. When we came in fight we heard nothing butt outcryes from one +side, as from ye other. Then came a mighty host of people & payd great +heed to ye ffrench dogg, which was ledd bye 2 men while roundabout his +neck was a girdle of porcelaine. They tormented ye poore Hurrons with +violence, butt about me was hung a long piece of porcelaine--ye girdle +of my captor, & he stood against me. In ye meanwhile, many of ye +village came about us, among which a goode olde woman & a boy with a +hattchett came neere me. Ye olde woman covered me, & ye boy took me by +my hand and led mee out of ye companie. What comforted me was that I had +escaped ye blowes. They brought me into ye village where ye olde woman +fhowed me kindness. She took me into her cottage, & gave me to eat, butt +my great terror took my stum-ack away from me. I had stayed an hour when +a great companie came to see me, of olde men with pipes in their mouths. +For a time they sat about, when they did lead me to another cabbin, +where they smoked & made me apprehend they should throw me into ye fyre. +Butt itt proved otherwise, for ye olde woman followed me, speaking +aloud, whome they answered with a loud _ho,_ then shee tooke her girdle, +and about me she tyed itt, so brought me to her cottage & made me to +sitt downe. Then she gott me Indian corne toasted, & took away ye paint +ye fellows had stuck to my face. A maide greased & combed my haire, & ye +olde woman danced and sung, while my father bourned tobacco on a stone. +They gave me a blew coverlitt, stockings, and shoes. I layed with her +son & did what I could to get familiarity with them, and I suffered no +wrong, yet I was in a terror, for ye fatal songs came from ye poore +Hurrons. Ye olde man inquired whether I was Afferony, a ffrench. I +affured him no, faying I was Panugaga, that is of their nation, for +which he was pleased. + +[Illustration: 19 THE OMEN OF THE LITTLE BLUE BIRDS] + +My father feasted 200 men. My sisters made me clean for that purpose, +and greased my haire. They tyed me with 2 necklaces of porcelaine & +garters of ye same. My father gave me a hattchett in my hand. + +My father made a speech, showing many demonstrations of vallor, broak a +kettle of cagamite with a hattchett. So they sung, as is their usual +custom. Ye banquette being over, all cryed to me “Shagon, Orimha”--that +is “be hearty!” Every one withdrew to his quarters. + +Here follows a long account of his daily life among the Indians, his +hunting and observations, which our space forbids. He had become +meanwhile more familiar with the language. He goes on: + +My father came into ye cabbin from ye grand castle & he sat him downe to +smoke. He said ye Elders had approved after much debate, & that ye +ffrench dogg was not a witch, but ye great warrior Mahongui, gone +before, whose spirit had rose up into ye ffrench dogg & had spyed ye +ffrench. Att ye council even soe ye dogg had walked into ye centre of ye +great cabbin, there saying loudly to ye Elders what he was & that he +must be heard. His voice must be obeyed. His was not ye mocking cryes of +a witch from under an olde snake-skin, butt a chief come from Paradise +to comfort his own people. My father asked me if I was agreed. I said +that witches did not battile as openly as ye dogg, butt doe their evil +in ye dark. + +[Illustration: 20 YE SPIRIT DOG STRODE FROM YE DARKNESS] + +These wild men are sore beset with witches and devils--more than +Christians, as they deserve to be, for they are of Satan's own +belonging. + +My father dreamed att night, & sang about itt, making ye fire to bourne +in our cabbin. We satt to listen. He had mett ye ffrench dogg in ye +forest path bye night--he standing accross his way, & ye forest was +light from ye dogg's eyes, who spake to my father saying, “I belong to +ye dead folks--my hattchett is rust--my bow is mould--I can no longer +battile with our Ennemy, butt I hover over you in warre--I direct your +arrows to their breasts--I smoothe ye little dry sticks & wett ye leaves +under ye shoes--I draw ye morning mist accross to shield you--I carry ye +'Kohes' back and fore to bring your terror--I fling aside ye foeman's +bulletts--go back and be strong in council.” + +My father even in ye night drew ye Elders in ye grand cabbin. He said +what he had seen and heard. Even then the great ffrench dogg gott from +ye darkness of ye cabbin, & strode into ye fyre. He roared enough to +blow downe caftles in his might & they knew he was saying what he had +told unto my father. + +A great Captayne sent another night, & had ye Elders for to gather at ye +grande cabbin. He had been paddling his boat upon ye river when ye dogg +of Mahongui had walked out on ye watter thro ye mist. He was taller than +ye forest. So he spake, saying “Mahongui says--go tell ye people of ye +Panugaga, itt is time for warre--ye corne is gathered--ye deer has +changed his coat--there are no more Hurrons for me to eat. What is a +Panugaga village with no captyves? Ye young men will talk as women doe, +& ye Elders will grow content to watch a snow-bird hopp. Mahongui says +itt is time.” + +Again att ye council fyre ye spirit dogg strode from ye darkness & said +itt was time. Ye tobacco was bourned by ye Priests. In ye smoke ye +Elders beheld ye Spirit of Mahongui. “Panugaga--Warre.” + +Soe my father saw ye ghost of ye departed one. He smoked long bye our +cabbin fyre. He sang his battile song. I asked him to goe myself, even +with a hattchett, as I too was Panugaga. Butt he would in no wise +listen. “You are nott meet,” he says, “you sayest that your God is +above. How will you make me believe that he is as goode as your black +coats say? They doe lie & you see ye contrary; ffor first of all, ye Sun +bournes us often, ye rain wetts us, ye winde makes us have shipwrake, ye +thunder, ye lightening bournes & kills us, & all comes from above, & you +say that itt is goode to be there. For my part, I will nott go there. +Contrary they say that ye reprobates & guilty goeth downe & bourne. +They are mistaken; all is goode heare. Do nott you see that itt is ye +Earthe that nourishes all living creatures--ye waiter, ye fishes, & ye +yus, and that corne & all other fruits come up, & that all things are +nott soe contrary to us as that from above? Ye devils live in ye air & +they took my son. When you see that ye Earthe is our Mother, then you +will see that all things on itt are goode. Ye Earthe was made for ye +Panugaga, & ye souls of our warriors help us against our Ennemy. Ye +ffrench dogg is Mahongui's spirit. He tells us to goe to warre against +ye ffrench. Would a ffrench dogg doe that? You are nott yett Panugaga to +follow your father in warre.” + + + + +THE ESSENTIALS AT FORT ADOBE + + +THE Indian suns himself before the door of his tepee, dreaming of the +past. For a long time now he has eaten of the white man's lotos--the +bimonthly beef-issue. I looked on him and wondered at the new things. +The buffalo, the warpath, all are gone. What of the cavalrymen over at +Adobe--his Nemesis in the stirring days--are they, too, lounging in +barracks, since his lordship no longer leads them trooping over the +burning flats by day and through the ragged hills by night? I will go +and see. + +The blistered faces of men, the gaunt horses dragging stiffly along to +the cruel spurring, the dirty lack-lustre of campaigning--that, of +course, is no more. Will it be parades, and those soul-deadening “fours +right” and “column left” affairs? Oh, my dear, let us hope not. + +Nothing is so necessary in the manufacture of soldiers, sure enough, but +it is not hard to learn, and once a soldier knows it I can never +understand why it should be drilled into him until it hurts. Besides, +from another point of view, soldiers in rows and in lines do not compose +well in pictures. I always feel, after seeing infantry drill in an +armory, like Kipling's light-house keeper, who went insane looking at +the cracks between the boards--they were all so horribly alike. + +Then Adobe is away out West in the blistering dust, with no towns of any +importance near it. I can understand why men might become listless when +they are at field-work, with the full knowledge that nothing but their +brothers are looking at them save the hawks and coyotes. It is different +from Meyer, with its traps full of Congressmen and girls, both of whom +are much on the minds of cavalrymen. + +In due course I was bedded down at Adobe by my old friend the Captain, +and then lay thinking of this cavalry business. It is a subject which +thought does not simplify, but, like other great things, makes it +complicate and recede from its votaries. To know essential details from +unessential details is the study in all arts. Details there must be; +they are the small things that make the big things. To apply this +general order of things to this arm of the service kept me awake. There +is first the riding--simple enough if they catch you young. There are +bits, saddles, and cavalry packs. I know men who have not spoken to each +other in years because they disagree about these. There are the sore +backs and colics--that is a profession in itself. There are judgment of +pace, the battle tactics, the use of three very different weapons; there +is a world of history in this, in forty languages. Then an ever-varying +_terrain_ tops all. There are other things not confined to cavalry, but +regarded by all soldiers. The crowning peculiarity of cavalry is the +rapidity of its movement, whereby a commander can lose the carefully +built up reputation of years in about the time it takes a school-boy to +eat a marsh-mallow. After all, it is surely a hard profession--a very +blind trail to fame. I am glad I am not a cavalryman; still, it is the +happiest kind of fun to look on when you are not responsible; but it +needs some cultivation to understand and appreciate. + +I remember a dear friend who had a taste for out-of-doors. He penetrated +deeply into the interior not long since to see these same troopers do a +line of heroics, with a band of Bannocks to support the role. The +Indians could not finally be got on the centre of the stage, but made +hot-foot for the agency. My friend could not see any good in all this, +nor was he satisfied with the first act even. He must needs have a +climax, and that not forthcoming, he loaded his disgust into a trunk +line and brought it back to his club corner here in New York. He there +narrated the failure of his first night; said the soldiers were not even +dusty as advertised; damned the Indians keenly, and swore at the West by +all his gods. + +There was a time when I, too, regarded not the sketches in this art, but +yearned for the finished product. That, however, is not exhibited +generally over once in a generation. + +At Adobe there are only eight troops--not enough to make a German +nurse-girl turn her head in the street, and my friend from New York, +with his Napoleonic largeness, would scoff out loud. But he and the +nurse do not understand the significance; they have not the eyes to see. +A starboard or a port horseshoe would be all one to them, and a crease +in the saddle-blanket the smallest thing in the world, yet it might +spoil a horse. + +When the trumpets went in the morning I was sorry I had thought at all. +It was not light yet, and I clung to my pillow. Already this cavalry has +too much energy for my taste. + +“If you want to see anything, you want to lead out,” said the Captain, +as he pounded me with a boot. + +[Illustration: 21 THE ADVANCE] + +“Say, Captain, I suppose Colonel Hamilton issues this order to get up at +this hour, doesn't he?” + +“He does.” + +“Well, he has to obey his own order, then, doesn't he?” + +“He does.” + +I took a good long stretch and yawn, and what I said about Colonel +Hamilton I will not commit to print, out of respect to the Colonel. Then +I got up. + +This bitterness of bed-parting passes. The Captain said he would put a +“cook's police” under arrest for appearing in my make-up; but all these +details will be forgotten, and whatever happens at this hour should be +forgiven. I had just come from the North, where I had been sauntering +over the territory of Montana with some Indians and a wild man from +Virginia, getting up before light--tightening up on coffee and bacon for +twelve hours in the saddle to prepare for more bacon and coffee; but at +Adobe I had hoped for, even if I did not expect, some repose. + +In the east there was a fine green coming over the sky. No one out of +the painter guild would have admitted it was green, even on the rack, +but what I mean is that you could not approach it in any other way. A +nice little adjutant went jangling by on a hard-trotting thoroughbred, +his shoulders high and his seat low. My old disease began to take +possession of me; I could fairly feel the microbes generate. Another +officer comes clattering, with his orderly following after. The fever +has me. We mount, and we are off, all going to stables. + +Out from the corrals swarm the troopers, leading their unwilling mounts. +The horses are saying, “Damn the Colonel!” One of them comes in arching +bounds; he is saying worse of the Colonel, or maybe only cussing out his +own recruit for pulling his _cincha_ too tight. They form troop lines in +column, while the Captains throw open eyes over the things which would +not interest my friend from New York or the German nurse-girl. + +The two forward troops are the enemy, and are distinguished by wearing +brown canvas stable-frocks. These shortly move out through the post, and +are seen no more. + +Now comes the sun. By the shades of Knickerbocker's _History of New +York_ I seem now to have gotten at the beginning; but patience, the sun +is no detail out in the arid country. It does more things than blister +your nose. It is the despair of the painter as it colors the minarets of +the Bad Lands which abound around Adobe, and it dries up the company +gardens if they don't watch the _acequias_ mighty sharp. To one just out +of bed it excuses existence. I find I begin to soften towards the +Colonel. In fact, it is possible that he is entirely right about having +his old trumpets blown around garrison at this hour, though it took the +Captain's boot to prove it shortly since. + +[Illustration: 22 HORSE GYMNASTICS] + +The command moves out, trotting quickly through the blinding clouds of +dust. The landscape seems to get right up and mingle with the +excitement. The supple, well-trained horses lose the scintillation on +their coats, while Uncle Sam's blue is growing mauve very rapidly. But +there is a useful look about the men, and the horses show condition +after their long practice march just finished. Horses much used to go +under saddle have well-developed quarters and strong stifle action. Fact +is, nothing looks like a horse with a harness on. That is a job for +mules, and these should have a labor organization and monopolize it. + +The problem of the morning was that we as an advance were to drive the +two troops which had gone on ahead. These in turn were to represent a +rapidly retiring rear-guard. This training is more that troops may be +handled with expedition, and that the men may gather the thing, rather +than that officers should do brilliant things, which they might +undertake on their own responsibility in time of war, such as pushing +rapidly by on one flank and cutting out a rear-guard. + +Grevious and very much to be commiserated is the task of the feeling +historian who writes of these paper wars. He may see possibilities or +calamities which do not signify. The morning orders provide against +genius, and who will be able to estimate the surgical possibilities of +blank cartridges? The sergeant-major cautioned me not to indicate by my +actions what I saw as we rode to the top of a commanding hill. The enemy +had abandoned the stream because their retreat would have been exposed +to fire. They made a stand back in the hills. The advance felt the +stream quickly, and passed, fanning out to develop. The left flank +caught their fire, whereat the centre and right came around at top +speed. But this is getting so serious. + +The scene was crowded with little pictures, all happening +quickly--little dots of horsemen gliding quickly along the yellow +landscape, leaving long trails of steely dust in their wake. A scout +comes trotting along, his face set in an expectant way, carbine +advanced. A man on a horse is a vigorous, forceful thing to look at. It +embodies the liveliness of nature in its most attractive form, +especially when a gun and sabre are attached. + +[Illustration: 23 JUMPING ON A HORSE] + +When both living equations are young, full of oats and bacon, imbued +with military ideas, and trained to the hour, it always seems to me that +the ghost of a tragedy stalks at their side. This is why the polo-player +does not qualify sentimentally. But what is one man beside two troops +which come shortly in two solid chunks, with horses snorting and sending +the dry landscape in a dusty pall for a quarter of a mile in the rear? +It is good--ah! it is worth any one's while; but stop and think, what if +we could magnify that? Tut, tut! as I said before, that only happens +once in a generation. Adobe doesn't dream; it simply does its morning's +work. + +The rear-guard have popped at our advance, which exchanges with them. +Their fire grows slack, and from our vantage we can see them mount +quickly and flee. + +After two hours of this we shake hands with the hostiles and trot home +to breakfast. + +These active, hard-riding, straight-shooting, open-order men are doing +real work, and are not being stupefied by drill-ground routine, or +rendered listless by file-closer prompting or sleepy reiteration. + +By the time the command dismounts in front of stables we turn longingly +to the thoughts of breakfast. Every one has completely forgiven the +Colonel, though I have no doubt he will be equally unpopular to-morrow +morning. + +But what do I see--am I faint? No; it has happened again. It looks as +though I saw a soldier jump over a horse. I moved on him. + +“Did I see you--” I began. + +“Oh yes, sir--you see,” returned a little soldier, who ran with the +mincing steps of an athlete towards his horse, and landed standing uip +on his hind quarters, whereupon he settled down quietly into his saddle. + +Others began to gyrate over and under their horses in a dizzy way. Some +had taken their saddles off and now sat on their horses' bellies, while +the big dog-like animals lay on their backs, with their feet in the air. +It was circus business, or what they call “short and long horse” + work--some not understandable phrase. Every one does it. While I am not +unaccustomed to looking at cavalry, I am being perpetually surprised by +the lengths to which our cavalry is carrying thus Cossack drill. It is +beginning to be nothing short of marvellous. + +In the old days this thing was not known. Between building mud or log +forts, working on the bull-train, marching or fighting, a man and a gun +made a soldier; but it takes an education along with this now before he +can qualify. + +[Illustration: 24 A TAME HORSE] + +The regular work at Adobe went on during the day--guard mount, orders, +inspection, and routine. + +At the club I was asked, “Going out this afternoon with us?” + +“Yes, he is going; his horse will be up at 4.30; he wants to see this +cavalry,” answered my friend the Captain for me. + +“Yes; it's fine moonlight. The Colonel is going to do an attack on +Cossack posts out in the hills,” said the adjutant. + +So at five o'clock we again sallied out in the dust, the men in the +ranks next me silhouetting one after the other more dimly until they +disappeared in the enveloping cloud. They were cheerful, laughing and +wondering one to another if Captain Garrard, the enemy, would get in on +their pickets. He was regarded in the ranks as a sharp fellow, one to be +well looked after. + +At the line of hills where the Colonel stopped, the various troops were +told off in their positions, while the long cool shadows of evening +stole over the land, and the pale moon began to grow bolder over on the +left flank. + +I sat on a hill with a sergeant who knew history and horses. He +remembered “Pansy,” which had served sixteen years in the troop--and a +first-rate old horse then; but a damned inspector with no soul came +browsing around one day and condemned that old horse. Government got a +measly ten dollars--or something like that. This ran along for a time; +when one day they were trooping up some lonely valley, and, behold, +there stood “Pansy,” as thin as a snake, tied by a wickieup. He greeted +the troop with joyful neighs. The soldiers asked the Captain to be +allowed to shoot him, but of course he said no. I could not learn if he +winked when he said it. The column wound over the hill, a carbine rang +from its rear, and “Pansy” lay down in the dust without a kick. Death is +better than an Indian for a horse. The thing was not noticed at the +time, but made a world of fuss afterwards, though how it all came out +the sergeant did not develop, nor was it necessary. + +Night settled down on the quiet hills, and the dark spots of pickets +showed dimly on the gray surface of the land. The Colonel inspected his +line, and found everybody alert and possessed of a good working +knowledge of picket duties at night--one of the most difficult duties +enlisted men have to perform. It is astonishing how short is the +distance at which we can see a picket even in this bright night on the +open hills. + +I sat on my horse by a sergeant at a point in the line where I suspected +the attack would come. The sergeant thought he saw figures moving in a +dry bottom before us. I could not see. A column of dust off to the left +indicated troops, but we thought it a ruse of Garrard's. My sergeant, +though, had really seen the enemy, and said, softly, “They are coming.” + +[Illustration: 25 THE PURSUIT] + +The bottom twinkled and popped with savage little yellow winks; bang! +went a rifle in my ear; “whew!” snorted my big horse; and our picket +went to the supports clattering. + +The shots and yells followed fast. The Colonel had withdrawn the +supports towards the post rapidly, leaving his picket-line in the air--a +thing which happens in war; but he did not lose much of that line, I +should say. + +It was an interesting drill. Pestiferous little man disturbed nature, +and it all seemed so absurd out there on those quiet gray hills. It made +me feel, as I slowed down and gazed at the vastness of things, like a +superior sort of bug. In the middle distance several hundred troops are +of no more proportion than an old cow bawling through the hills after +her wolf-eaten calf. If my mental vision were not distorted I should +never have seen the manoeuvre at all--only the moon and the land doing +what they have done before for so long a time. + +We reached Adobe rather late, when I found that the day's work had done +wonders for my appetite. I reminded the Captain that I had broken his +bread but once that day. + +“It is enough for a Ninth Cavalry man,” he observed. However, I +out-flanked this brutal disregard for established customs, but it was +“cold.” + +In the morning I resisted the Captain's boot, and protested that I must +be let alone; which being so, I appeared groomed and breakfasted at a +Christian hour, fully persuaded that as between an Indian and a Ninth +Cavalry man I should elect to be an Indian. + +Some one must have disciplined the Colonel. I don't know who it was. +There is only one woman in a post who can, generally; but no dinners +were spoiled at Adobe by night-cat affairs. + +Instead, during the afternoon we were to see Captain Garrard, the +hostile, try to save two troops which were pressed into the bend of a +river by throwing over a bridge, while holding the enemy in check. This +was as complicated as putting a baby to sleep while reading law; so +clearly my point of view was with the hostiles. With them I entered the +neck. The horses were grouped in the brush, leaving some men who were +going underground like gophers out near the entrance. The +brown-canvas-covered soldiers grabbed their axes, rolled their eyes +towards the open plain, and listened expectantly. + +[Illustration: 26 THE ATTACK ON THE COSSACK] + +The clear notes of a bugle rang; whackety, bang--clack--clack, went the +axes. Trees fell all around. The forest seemed to drop on me. I got my +horse and fled across the creek. + +“That isn't fair; this stream is supposed to be impassable,” sang out a +lieutenant, who was doing a Blondin act on the first tree over, while +beneath him yawned the chasm of four or five feet. + +In less than a minute the whole forest got up again and moved towards +the bridge. There were men behind it, but the leaves concealed them. +Logs dropped over, brush piled on top. The rifles rang in scattered +volleys, and the enemy's fire rolled out beyond the brush. No bullets +whistled--that was a redeeming feature. + +Aside from that it seemed as though every man was doing his ultimate +act. They flew about; the shovels dug with despair; the sand covered the +logs in a shower. While I am telling this the bridge was made. + +The first horse came forward, led by his rider. He raised his eyes like +St. Anthony; he did not approve of the bridge. He put his ears forward, +felt with his toes, squatted behind, and made nervous side steps. The +men moved on him in a solid crowd from behind. Stepping high and short +he then bounded over, and after him in a stream came the willing +brothers. Out along the bluffs strung the troopers to cover the heroes +who had held the neck, while they destroyed the bridge. + +Then they rode home with the enemy, chaffing each other. + +It is only a workaday matter, all this; but workaday stuff does the +business nowadays. + + + + +MASSAI'S CROOKED TRAIL + + +IT is a bold person who will dare to say that a wilder savage ever lived +than an Apache Indian, and in this respect no Apache can rival Massai. + +He was a _bronco_ Chiricahua whose _tequa_ tracks were so long and +devious that all of them can never be accounted for. Three regiments of +cavalry, all the scouts--both white and black--and Mexicans galore had +their hack, but the ghostly presence appeared and disappeared from the +Colorado to the Yaqui. No one can tell how Massai's face looks, or +looked, though hundreds know the shape of his footprint. + +The Seventh made some little killings, but they fear that Massai was not +among the game. There surely is or was such a person as Massai. He +developed himself slowly, as I will show by the Sherlock Holmes methods +of the chief of scouts, though even he only got so far, after all. +Massai manifested himself like the dust-storm or the morning mist--a +shiver in the air, and gone. + +The chief walked his horse slowly back on the lost trail in disgust, +while the scouts bobbed along behind perplexed. It was always so. Time +has passed, and Massai, indeed, seems gone, since he appears no more. +The hope in the breasts of countless men is nearly blighted; they no +longer expect to see Massai's head brought into camp done up in an old +shirt and dropped triumphantly on the ground in front of the chief of +scouts' tent, so it is time to preserve what trail we can. + +Three troops of the Tenth had gone into camp for the night, and the +ghostly Montana landscape hummed with the murmur of many men. Supper was +over, and I got the old Apache chief of scouts behind his own ducking, +and demanded what he knew of an Apache Indian down in Arizona named +Massai. He knew all or nearly all that any white man will ever know. + +“All right,” said the chief, as he lit a cigar and tipped his sombrero +over his left eye, “but let me get it straight. Massai's trail was so +crooked, I had to study nights to keep it arranged in my head. He didn't +leave much more trail than a buzzard, anyhow, and it took years to +unravel it. But I am anticipating. + +“I was chief of scouts at Apache in the fall of '90, when word was +brought in that an Indian girl named Natastale had disappeared, and that +her mother was found under a walnut-tree with a bullet through her body. +I immediately sent Indian scouts to take the trail. They found the +tracks of a mare and colt going by the spot, and thinking it would bring +them to the girl, they followed it. Shortly they found a moccasin track +where a man had dismounted from the mare, and without paying more +attention to the horse track, they followed it. They ran down one of my +own scouts in a _tiswin_ [An intoxicating beverage made of corn] camp, +where he was carousing with other drinkers. They sprang on him, got him +by the hair, disarmed and bound him. Then they asked him what he had +done with the girl, and why he had killed the mother, to which he +replied that 'he did not know.' When he was brought to me, about dark, +there was intense excitement among the Indians, who crowded around +demanding Indian justice on the head of the murderer and ravisher of the +women. In order to save his life I took him from the Indians and lodged +him in the post guard-house. On the following morning, in order to +satisfy myself positively that this man had committed the murder, I sent +my first sergeant, the famous Mickey Free, with a picked party of +trailers, back to the walnut-tree, with orders to go carefully over the +trail and run down the mare and colt, or find the girl, dead or alive, +wherever they might. + +[Illustration: 27 NATASTALE] + +“In two hours word was sent to me that the trail was running to the +north. They had found the body of the colt with its throat cut, and were +following the mare. The trail showed that a man afoot was driving the +mare, and the scouts thought the girl was on the mare. This proved that +we had the wrong man in custody. I therefore turned him loose, telling +him he was all right. In return he told me that he owned the mare and +colt, and that when he passed the tree the girl was up in its branches, +shaking down nuts which her old mother was gathering. He had ridden +along, and about an hour afterwards had heard a shot. He turned his mare +loose, and proceeded on foot to the _tiswin_ camp, where he heard later +that the old woman had been shot and the girl 'lifted.' When arrested, +he knew that the other scouts had trailed him from the walnut-tree; he +saw the circumstances against him, and was afraid. + +“On the night of the second day Mickey Free's party returned, having run +the trail to within a few hundred yards of the camp of Alcashay in the +Forestdale country, between whose band and the band to which the girl +belonged there was a blood-feud. They concluded that the murderer +belonged to Alcashay's camp, and were afraid to engage him. + +[Illustration: 28 THE ARREST OF THE SCOUT] + +“I sent for Alcashay to come in immediately, which he did, and I +demanded that he trail the man and deliver him up to me, or I would take +my scout corps, go to his camp, and arrest all suspicious characters. He +stoutly denied that the man was in his camp, promised to do as I +directed, and, to further allay any suspicions, he asked for my picked +trailers to help run the trail. With this body of men he proceeded on +the track, and they found that it ran right around his camp, then turned +sharply to the east, ran within two hundred yards of a stage-ranch, +thence into some rough mountain country, where it twisted and turned for +forty miles. At this point they found the first camp the man had made. +He had tied the girl to a tree by the feet, which permitted her to sleep +on her back; the mare had been killed, some steaks taken out, and some +meat 'jerked.' From thence on they could find no trail which they could +follow. At long intervals they found his moccasin mark between rocks, +but after circling for miles they gave it up. In this camp they found +and brought to me a fire-stick--the first and only one I had ever +seen--and they told me that the fire-stick had not been used by Apaches +for many years. There were only a few old men in my camp who were +familiar with its use, though one managed to light his cigarette with +it. They reasoned from this that the man was a bronco Indian who had +been so long 'out' that he could not procure matches, and also that he +was a much wilder one than any of the Indians then known to be outlawed. + +“In about a week there was another Indian girl stolen from one of my +hay-camps, and many scouts thought it was the same Indian, who they +decided was one of the well-known outlaws; but older and better men did +not agree with them; so there the matter rested for some months. + +“In the spring the first missing girl rode into Fort Apache on a fine +horse, which was loaded down with buckskins and other Indian finery. Two +cowboys followed her shortly and claimed the pony, which bore a C C C +brand, and I gave it up to them. I took the girl into my office, for she +was so tired that she could hardly stand up, while she was haggard and +worn to the last degree. When she had sufficiently recovered she told me +her story. She said she was up in the walnut-tree when an Indian shot +her mother, and coming up, forced her to go with him. He trailed and +picked up the mare, bound her on its back, and drove it along. The colt +whinnied, whereupon he cut its throat. He made straight for Alcashay's +camp, which he circled, and then turned sharply to the east, where he +made the big twisting through the mountains which my scouts found. After +going all night and the next day, he made the first camp. After killing +and cooking the mare, he gave her something to eat, tied her up by the +feet, and standing over her, told her that he was getting to be an old +man, was tired of making his own fires, and wanted a woman. If she was a +good girl he would not kill her, but would treat her well and always +have venison hanging up. He continued that he was going away for a few +hours, and would come back and kill her if she tried to undo the cords; +but she fell asleep while he was talking. After daylight he returned, +untied her, made her climb on his back, and thus carried her for a long +distance. Occasionally he made her alight where the ground was hard, +telling her if she made any 'sign' he would kill her, which made her +careful of her steps. + +“After some miles of this blinding of the trail they came upon a white +horse that was tied to a tree. They mounted double, and rode all day as +fast as he could lash the pony, until, near nightfall, it fell from +exhaustion, whereupon he killed it and cooked some of the carcass. The +bronco Indian took himself off for a couple of hours, and when he +returned, brought another horse, which they mounted, and sped onward +through the moonlight all night long. On that morning they were in the +high mountains, the poor pony suffering the same fate as the others. + +“They stayed here two days, he tying her up whenever he went hunting, +she being so exhausted after the long flight that she lay comatose in +her bonds. From thence they journeyed south slowly, keeping to the high +mountains, and only once did he speak, when he told her that a certain +mountain pass was the home of the Chiricahuas. From the girl's account +she must have gone far south into the Sierra Madre of Old Mexico, though +of course she was long since lost. + +“He killed game easily, she tanned the hides, and they lived as man and +wife. Day by day they threaded their way through the deep canons and +over the Blue Mountain ranges. By this time he had become fond of the +White Mountain girl, and told her that he was Massai, a Chiricahua +warrior; that he had been arrested after the Geronimo war and sent East +on the railroad over two years since, but had escaped one night from the +train, and had made his way alone back to his native deserts. Since then +it is known that an Indian did turn up missing, but it was a big band of +prisoners, and some births had occurred, which made the checking off +come straight. He was not missed at the time. From what the girl said, +he must have got off east of Kansas City and travelled south and then +west, till at last he came to the lands of the Mescalero Apaches, where +he stayed for some time. He was over a year making this journey, and +told the girl that no human eye ever saw him once in that time. This is +all he ever told the girl Natastale, and she was afraid to ask him more. +Beyond these mere facts, it is still a midnight prowl of a human coyote +through a settled country for twelve hundred miles, the hardihood of the +undertaking being equalled only by the instinct which took him home. + +[Illustration: 29 SCOUTS] + +“Once only while the girl was with him did they see sign of other +Indians, and straightway Massai turned away--his wild nature shunning +even the society of his kind. + +“At times 'his heart was bad,' and once he sat brooding for a whole day, +finally telling her that he was going into a bad country to kill +Mexicans, that women were a burden on a warrior, and that he had made up +his mind to kill her. All through her narrative he seemed at times to be +overcome with this blood-thirst, which took the form of a homicidal +melancholia. She begged so hard for her life that he relented; so he +left her in the wild tangle of mountains while he raided on the Mexican +settlements. He came back with horses and powder and lead. This last was +in Winchester bullets, which he melted up and recast into .50-calibre +balls made in moulds of cactus sticks. He did not tell how many murders +he had committed during these raids, but doubtless many. + +“They lived that winter through in the Sierras, and in the spring +started north, crossing the railroad twice, which meant the Guaymas and +the Southern Pacific. They sat all one day on a high mountain and +watched the trains of cars go by; but 'his heart got bad' at the sight +of them, and again he concluded to kill the girl. Again she begged off, +and they continued up the range of the Mogollons. He was unhappy in his +mind during all this journey, saying men were scarce up here, that he +must go back to Mexico and kill some one. + +“He was tired of the woman, and did not want her to go back with him, +so, after sitting all day on a rock while she besought him, the old wolf +told her to go home in peace. But the girl was lost, and told him that +either the Mexicans or Americans would kill her if she departed from +him; so his mood softened, and telling her to come on, he began the +homeward journey. They passed through a small American town in the +middle of the night--he having previously taken off the Indian rawhide +shoes from the ponies. They crossed the Gila near the Nau Taw Mountains. +Here he stole two fresh horses, and loading one with all the buckskins, +he put her on and headed her down the Eagle Trail to Black River. She +now knew where she was, but was nearly dying from the exhaustion of his +fly-by-night expeditions. He halted her, told her to 'tell the white +officer that she was a pretty good girl, better than the San Carlos +woman, and that he would come again and get another.' He struck her +horse and was gone. + +[Illustration: 30 THE CHIEF OF SCOUTS] + +“Massai then became a problem to successive chiefs of scouts, a bugbear +to the reservation Indians, and a terror to Arizona. If a man was killed +or a woman missed, the Indians came galloping and the scouts lay on his +trail. If he met a woman in the defiles, he stretched her dead if she +did not please his errant fancy. He took pot-shots at the men ploughing +in their little fields, and knocked the Mexican bull-drivers on the head +as they plodded through the blinding dust of the Globe Road. He even sat +like a vulture on the rim-rock and signalled the Indians to come out and +talk. When two Indians thus accosted did go out, they found themselves +looking down Mas-sai's.50-calibre, and were tempted to do his bidding. +He sent one in for sugar and coffee, holding the brother, for such he +happened to be, as a hostage till the sugar and coffee came. Then he +told them that he was going behind a rock to lie down, cautioning them +not to move for an hour. That was an unnecessary bluff, for they did not +wink an eye till sundown. Later than this he stole a girl in broad +daylight in the face of a San Carlos camp and dragged her up the rocks. +Here he was attacked by fifteen or twenty bucks, whom he stood off until +darkness. When they reached his lair in the morning, there lay the dead +girl, but Massai was gone. + +“I never saw Massai but once, and then it was only a piece of his G +string flickering in the brush. We had followed his trail half the +night, and just at daylight, as we ascended a steep part of the +mountains, I caught sight of a pony's head looking over a bush. We +advanced rapidly, only to find the horse grunting from a stab wound in +the belly, and the little camp scattered around about him. The shirt +tail flickering in the brush was all of Massai. We followed on, but he +had gone down a steep bluff. We went down too, thus exposing ourselves +to draw his fire so that we could locate him, but he was not tempted. + +“The late Lieutenant Clark had much the same view of this mountain +outlaw, and since those days two young men of the Seventh Cavalry, Rice +and Averill, have on separate occasions crawled on his camp at the break +of day, only to see Massai go out of sight in the brush like a blue +quail. + +“Lieutenant Averill, after a forced march of eighty-six miles, reached a +hostile camp near morning, after climbing his detachment, since +midnight, up the almost inaccessible rocks, in hopes of surprising the +camp. He divided his force into three parts, and tried, as well as +possible, to close every avenue of escape; but as the camp was on a high +rocky hill at the junction of four deep canons, this was found +impracticable. At daylight the savages came out together, running like +deer, and making for the canons. The soldiers fired, killing a buck and +accidentally wounding a squaw, but Massai simply disappeared. + +“That's the story of Massai. It is not as long as his trail,” said the +chief of scouts. + + + + +JOSHUA GOODENOUGH'S OLD LETTER + + +THE following letter has come into my possession, which I publish +because it is history, and descends to the list of those humble beings +who builded so well for us the institutions which we now enjoy in this +country. It is yellow with age, and much frayed out at the foldings, +being in those spots no longer discernible. It runs: + +ALBANY _June_ 1798. + +TO MY DEAR SON JOSEPH.--It is true that there are points in the history +of the country in which your father had a concern in his early life, and +as you ask me to put it down I will do so briefly. Not, however, my dear +Joseph, as I was used to tell it to you when you were a lad, but with +more exact truth, for I am getting on in my years and this will soon be +all that my posterity will have of their ancestor. I conceive that now +the descendents of the noble band of heroes who fought off the indians, +the Frenche and the British will prevail in this country, and my +children's children may want to add what is found here in written to +their own achievements. + +To begin with, my father was the master of a fishing-schooner, of +Marblehead. In the year 1745 he was taken at sea by a French man-of-war +off Louisbourg, after making a desperate resistence. His ship was in a +sinking condition and the blood was mid-leg deep on her deck. Your +grandfather was an upstanding man and did not prostrate easily, but the +Frencher was too big, so he was captured and later found his way as a +prisoner to Quebec. He was exchanged by a mistake in his identity for +Huron indians captivated in York, and he subsequently settled near +Albany, afterwards bringing my mother, two sisters, and myself from +Marblehead. + +He engaged in the indian trade, and as I was a rugged lad of my years I +did often accompany him on his expeditions westward into the Mohawk +townes, thus living in bark camps among Indians and got thereby a +knowledge of their ways. I made shift also to learn their language, and +what with living in the bush for so many years I was a hand at a pack or +paddle and no mean hunter besides. I was put to school for two seasons +in Albany which was not to my liking, so I straightway ran off to a +hunters camp up the Hudson, and only came back when my father would say +that I should not be again put with the pedegogue. For this adventure I +had a good strapping from my father, and was set to work in his trade +again. My mother was a pious woman and did not like me to grow up in +the wilderness--for it was the silly fashion of those times to ape the +manners and dress of the Indians. + +My father was a shifty trader and very ventur-some. He often had trouble +with the people in these parts, who were Dutch and were jealous of him. +He had a violent temper and was not easily bent from his purpose by +opporsition. His men had a deal of fear of him and good cause enough in +the bargain, for I once saw him discipline a half-negro man who was one +of his boat-men for stealing his private jug of liquor from his private +pack. He clinched with the negro and soon had him on the ground, where +the man struggled manfully but to no purpose, for your grandfather soon +had him at his mercy. “Now,” said he, “give me the jug or take the +consequences.” The other boat paddlers wanted to rescue him, but I +menaced them with my fusil and the matter ended by the return of the +jug. + +In 1753 he met his end at the hands of western Indians in the French +interest, who shot him as he was helping to carry a battoe, and he was +burried in the wilderness. My mother then returned to her home in +Massassachusetts, journeying with a party of traders but I staid with +the Dutch on these frontiers because I had learned the indian trade and +liked the country. Not having any chances, I had little book learning in +my youth, having to this day a regret concerning it. I read a few books, +but fear I had a narrow knowledge of things outside the Dutch +settlements. On the frontiers, for that matter, few people had much +skill with the pen, nor was much needed. The axe and rifle, the paddle +and pack being more to our hands in those rough days. To prosper though, +men weare shrewd-headed enough. I have never seen that books helped +people to trade sharper. Shortly afterwards our trade fell away, for the +French had embroiled the Indians against us. Crown Point was the Place +from which the Indians in their interest had been fitted out to go +against our settlements, so a design was formed by His Majesty the +British King to dispossess them of that place. Troops were levid in the +Province and the war began. The Frenchers had the best of the fighting. + +Our frontiers were beset with the Canada indians so that it was not safe +to go about in the country at all. I was working for Peter Vrooman, a +trader, and was living at his house on the Mohawk. One Sunday morning I +found a negro boy who was shot through the body with two balls as he was +hunting for stray sheep, and all this within half a mile of Vrooman's +house. Then an express came up the valley who left word that the +Province was levying troops at Albany to fight the French, and I took my +pay from Vrooman saying that I would go to Albany for a soldier. Another +young man and myself paddled down to Albany, and we both enlisted in the +York levies. We drawed our ammunition, tents, kettles, bowls and knives +at the Albany flats, and were drilled by an officer who had been in her +Majesty's Service. One man was given five hundred lashes for enlisting +in some Connecticut troops, and the orders said that any man who should +leave His Majesty's service without a Regular discharge should suffer +Death. The restraint which was put upon me by this military life was not +to my liking, and I was in a mortal dread of the whippings which men +were constantly receiving for breaches of the discipline. I felt that I +could not survive the shame of being trussed up and lashed before men's +eyes, but I did also have a great mind to fight the French which kept me +along. One day came an order to prepare a list of officers and men who +were willing to go scouting and be freed from other duty, and after some +time I got my name put down, for I was thought too young, but I said I +knew the woods, had often been to Andiatirocte (or Lake George as it had +then become the fashion to call it) and they let me go. It was dangerous +work, for reports came every day of how our Rangers suffered up country +at the hands of the cruel savages from Canada, but it is impossible to +play at bowls without meeting some rubs. A party of us proceeded up +river to join Captain Rogers at Fort Edward, and we were put to camp on +an Island. This was in October of the year 1757. We found the Rangers +were rough borderers like ourselvs, mostly Hampshire men well used to +the woods and much accustomed to the Enemy. They dressed in the fashion +of those times in skin and grey duffle hunting frocks, and were well +armed. Rogers himself was a doughty man and had a reputation as a bold +Ranger leader. The men declaired that following him was sore service, +but that he most always met with great success. The Fort was garrissoned +by His Majesty's soldiers, and I did not conceive that they were much +fitted for bush-ranging, which I afterwards found to be the case, but +they would always fight well enough, though often to no good purpose, +which was not their fault so much as the headstrong leadership which +persisted in making them come to close quarters while at a disadvantage. +There were great numbers of pack horses coming and going with stores, +and many officers in gold lace and red coats were riding about directing +here and there. I can remember that I had a great interest in this +concourse of men, for up to that time I had not seen much of the world +outside of the wilderness. There was terror of the Canada indians who +had come down to our borders hunting for scalps--for these were +continually lurking near the cantanements to waylay the unwary. I had +got acquainted with a Hampshire borderer who had passed his life on the +Canada frontier, where he had fought indians and been captured by them. +I had seen much of indians and knew their silent forest habits when +hunting, so that I felt that when they were after human beings they +would be no mean adversaries, but I had never hunted them or they me. + +[Illustration: 31 NOT MUCH FITTED FOR BUSH-RANGING] + +I talked at great length with this Shankland, or Shanks as he was called +on account of his name and his long legs, in course of which he +explained many useful points to me concerning Ranger ways. He said they +always marched until it was quite dark before encamping--that they +always returned by a different route from that on which they went out, +and that they circled on their trail at intervals so that they might +intercept any one coming on their rear. He told me not to gather up +close to other Rangers in a fight but to keep spread out, which gave the +Enemy less mark to fire upon and also deceived them as to your own +numbers. Then also he cautioned me not to fire on the Enemy when we were +in ambush till they have approached quite near, which will put them in +greater surprise and give your own people time to rush in on them with +hatchets or cutlasses. Shanks and I had finally a great fancy for each +other and passed most of our time in company. He was a slow man in his +movements albeit he could move fast enough on occassion, and was a great +hand to take note of things happening around him. No indian was better +able to discern a trail in the bush than he, nor could one be found his +equal at making snow shoes, carving a powder horn or fashioning any +knick-nack he was a mind to set his hand to. + +The Rangers were accustomed to scout in small parties to keep the Canada +indians from coming close to Fort Edward. I had been out with Shanks on +minor occasions, but I must relate my first adventure. + +A party... (here the writing is lost)... was desirous of taking a +captive or scalp. I misdoubted our going alone by ourselvs, but he said +we were as safe as with more. We went northwest slowly for two days, and +though we saw many old trails we found none which were fresh. We had +gone on until night when we lay bye near a small brook. I was awakened +by Shanks in the night and heard a great howling of wolves at some +distance off togther with a gun shot. We lay awake until daybreak and at +intervals heard a gun fired all though the night. We decided that the +firing could not come from a large party and so began to approach the +sound slowly and with the greatest caution. We could not understand why +the wolves should be so bold with the gun firing, but as we came neare +we smelled smoke and knew it was a camp-fire. There were a number of +wolves running about in the underbrush from whose actions we located the +camp. From a rise we could presently see it, and were surprised to find +it contained five Indians all lying asleep in their blankets. The wolves +would go right up to the camp and yet the indians did not deign to give +them any notice whatsoever, or even to move in the least when one wolf +pulled at the blanket of a sleeper. We each selected a man when we had +come near enough, and preparing to deliver our fire, when of a sudden +one figure rose up slightly. We nevertheless fired and then rushed +forward, reloading. To our astonishment none of the figures moved in the +least but the wolves scurried off. We were advancing cautiously when +Shanks caught me by the arm saying “we must run, that they had all died +of the small-pox,” and run we did lustilly for a good long distance. +After this manner did many Indians die in the wilderness from that +dreadful disease, and I have since supposed that the last living indian +had kept firing his gun at the wolves until he had no longer strength to +reload his piece. + +[Illustration: 32 THE MARCH OF ROGERS'S RANGERS] + +After this Shanks and I had become great friends for he had liked the +way I had conducted myself on this expedition. He was always ar-guying +with me to cut off my eel-skin que which I wore after the fashion of the +Dutch folks, saying that the Canada indians would parade me for a +Dutchman after that token was gone with my scalp. He had.... (writing +obliterated). + +Early that winter I was one of 150 Rangers who marched with Captain +Rogers against the Enemy at Carrillion. The snow was not deep at +starting but it continued to snow until it was heavy footing and many of +the men gave out and returned to Fort Edward, but notwithstanding my +exhaustion I continued on for six days until we were come to within six +hundred yards of Carrillion Fort. The captain had made us a speech in +which he told us the points where we were to rendevoux if we were broke +in the fight, for further resistence until night came on, when we could +take ourselvs off as best we might. I was with the advance guard. We lay +in ambush in some fallen timber quite close to a road, from which we +could see the smoke from the chimneys of the Fort and the Gentries +walking their beats. A French soldier was seen to come from the Fort and +the word was passed to let him go bye us, as he came down the road. We +lay perfectly still not daring to breathe, and though he saw nothing he +stopped once and seemed undecided as to going on, but suspecting nothing +he continued and was captured by our people below, for prisoners were +wanted at Headquarters to give information of the French forces and +intentions. A man taken in this way was threatened with Death if he did +not tell the whole truth, which under the circumstancs he mostly did to +save his life. + +The French did not come out of the Fort after us, though Rogers tried to +entice them by firing guns and showing small parties of men which +feigned to retreat. We were ordered to destroy what we could of the +supplies, so Shanks and I killed a small cow which we found in the edge +of the clearing and took off some fresh beef of which food we were sadly +in need, for on these scouts the Rangers were not permitted to fire guns +at game though it was found in thir path, as it often was in fact. I can +remember on one occassion that I stood by a tree in a snow storm, with +my gun depressed under my frock the better to keep it dry, when I was +minded to glance quickly around and there saw a large wolf just ready to +spring upon me. I cautiously presented my fusee but did not dare to fire +against the orders. An other Ranger came shortly into view and the wolf +took himself off. We burned some large wood piles, which no doubt made +winter work for to keep some Frenchers at home. They only fired some +cannon at us, which beyond a great deal of noise did no harm. We then +marched back to Fort Edward and were glad enough to get there, since it +was time for snow-shoes, which we had not with us. + +The Canada indians were coming down to our Forts and even behind them to +intercept our convoys or any parties out on the road, so that the +Rangers were kept out, to head them when they could, or get knowledge of +their whereabouts. Shanks and I went out with two Mohegon indians on a +scout. It was exceedingly stormy weather and very heavy travelling +except on the River. I had got a bearskin blanket from the indians which +is necessary to keep out the cold at this season. We had ten days of +bread, pork and rum with a little salt with us, and followed the indians +in a direction North-and-bye-East towards the lower end of Lake +Champlain, always keeping to the high-ground with the falling snow to +fill our tracks behind us. For four days we travelled when we were well +up the west side. We had crossed numbers of trails but they were all +full of old snow and not worth regarding--still we were so far from our +post that in event of encountering any numbers of the Enemy we had but +small hope of a safe return and had therefore to observe the greatest +caution. + +As we were making our way an immense painter so menaced us that we were +forced to fire our guns to dispatch him. He was found to be very old, +his teeth almost gone, and was in the last stages of starvation. We were +much alarmed at this misadventure, fearing the Enemy might hear us or +see the ravens gathering above, so we crossed the Lake that night on +some new ice to blind our trail, where I broke through in one place and +was only saved by Shanks, who got hold of my eel-skin que, thereby +having something to pull me out with. We got into a deep gully, and +striking flint made a fire to dry me and I did not suffer much +inconvenience. + +The day following we took a long circle and came out on the lower end of +the Lake, there laying two days in ambush, watching the Lake for any +parties coming or going. Before dark a Mohigon came in from watch +saying that men were coming down the Lake. We gathered at the point and +saw seven of the Enemy come slowly on. There were three indians two +Canadians and a French officer. Seeing they would shortly pass under our +point of land we made ready to fire, and did deliver one fire as they +came nigh, but the guns of our Mohigons failed to explode, they being +old and well nigh useless, so that all the damage we did was to kill one +indian and wound a Canadian, who was taken in hand by his companions who +made off down the shore and went into the bush. We tried to head them +unsuccessfully, and after examining the guns of our indians we feared +they were so disabled that we gave up and retreated down the Lake, +travelling all night. Near morning we saw a small fire which we spied +out only to find a large party of the Enemy, whereat we were much +disturbed, for our travelling had exhausted us and we feared the pursuit +of a fresh enemy as soon as morning should come to show them our trail. +We then made our way as fast as possible until late that night, when we +laid down for refreshment. We built no fire but could not sleep for fear +of the Enemy for it was a bright moonlight, and sure enough we had been +there but a couple of hours when we saw the Enemy coming on our track. +We here abandoned our bear-skins with what provissions we had left and +ran back on our trail toward the advancing party. It was dark in the +forest and we hoped they might not discover our back track for some +time, thus giving us a longer start. This ruse was successful. After +some hours travel I became so exhausted that I stopped to rest, whereat +the Mohigans left us, but Shanks bided with me, though urging me to move +forward. After a time I got strength to move on. Shanks said the +Canadians would come up with us if we did not make fast going of it, and +that they would disembowel us or tie us to a tree and burn us as was +their usual way, for we could in no wise hope to make head against so +large a party. Thus we walked steadily till high noon, when my wretched +strength gave out so that I fell down saying I had as leave die there as +elsewhere. Shanks followed back on our trail, while I fell into a drouse +but was so sore I could not sleep. After a time I heard a shot, and +shortly two more, when Shanks came running back to me. He had killed an +advancing indian and stopped them for a moment. He kicked me vigorously, +telling me to come on, as the Indians would soon come on again. I got +up, and though I could scarcely move I was minded diligently to +persevere after Shanks. Thus we staggered on until near night time, when +we again stopped and I fell into a deep sleep, but the enemy did not +again come up. On the following day we got into Fort Edward, where I was +taken with a distemper, was seized with very grevious pains in the head +and back and a fever. They let blood and gave me a physic, but I did not +get well around for some time. For this sickness I have always been +thankful, otherwise I should have been with Major Rogers in his +unfortunate battle, which has become notable enough, where he was +defeated by the Canadians and Indians and lost nigh all his private men, +only escaping himself by a miracle. We mourned the loss of many friends +who were our comrades, though it was not the fault of any one, since the +Enemy had three times the number of the Rangers and hemmed them in. Some +of the Rangers had surrendered under promise of Quarter, but we +afterwards heard that they were tied to trees and hacked to death +because the indians had found a scalp in the breast of a man's hunting +frock, thus showing that we could never expect such bloody minded +villiains to keep their promises of Quarter. + +I was on several scouts against them that winter but encountered nothing +worthy to relate excepting the hardships which fell to a Ranger's lot. +In June the Army having been gathered we proceeded under Abercromby up +the Lake to attack Ticonderoga. I thought at the time that so many men +must be invincible, but since the last war I have been taught to know +different. There were more Highlanders, Grenadiers, Provincial troops, +Artillery and Rangers than the eye could compass, for the Lake was black +with their battoes. This concourse proceeded to Ticondaroga where we had +a great battle and lost many men, but to no avail since we were forced +to return. + +The British soldiers were by this time made servicible for forest +warfare, since the officers and men had been forced to rid themselvs of +their useless incumbrances and had cut off the tails of their long coats +till they scarcely reached below thir middles--they had also left the +women at the Fort, browned thir gun barrells and carried thir provisions +on their backs, each man enough for himself, as was our Ranger custom. +The army was landed at the foot of the Lake, where the Rangers quickly +drove off such small bodies of Frenchers and Indians as opposed us, and +we began our march by the rapids. Rogers men cleared the way and had a +most desperate fight with some French who were minded to stop us, but we +shortly killed and captured most of them. We again fell in with them +that afternoon and were challenged Qui vive but answered that we were +French, but they were not deceived and fired upon us, after which a hot +skirmish insued during which Lord Howe was shot through the breast, for +which we were all much depressed, because he was our real leader and had +raised great hopes of success for us. The Rangers had liked him because +he was wont to spend much time talking with them in thir camps and used +also to go on scouts. The Rangers were not over fond of British +officers in general. + +[Illustration: 33 THE STORMING OF TICONDEROGA] + +When the time had come for battle we Rangers moved forward, accompanied +by the armed boatmen and the Provincial troops. We drove in the French +pickets and came into the open where the trees were felled tops toward +us in a mighty abbatis, as though blown down by the wind. It was all we +could undertake to make our way through the mass, and all the while the +great breast-works of the French belched cannon and musket balls while +the limbs and splinters flew around us. Then out of the woods behind us +issued the heavy red masses of the British troops advancing in battle +array with purpose to storm with the bayonet. The maze of fallen trees +with their withered leaves hanging broke their ranks, and the French +Retrenchment blazed fire and death. They advanced bravely up but all to +no good purpose, and hundreds there met their death. My dear Joseph I +have the will but not the way to tell you all I saw that awful +afternoon. I have since been in many battles and skirmishes, but I never +have witnessed such slaughter and such wild fighting as the British +storm of Ticondaroga. We became mixed up--Highlanders, Grenadiers, Light +Troops, Rangers and all, and we beat against that mass of logs and maze +of fallen timber and we beat in vain. I was once carried right up to +the breastwork, but we were stopped by the bristling mass of sharpened +branches, while the French fire swept us front and flank. The ground was +covered deep with dying men, and as I think it over now I can remember +nothing but the fruit bourne by the tree of war, for I looked upon so +many wonderous things that July day that I could not set them downe at +all. We drew off after seeing that human valor could not take that work. +We Rangers then skirmished with the French colony troops and the Canada +indians until dark while our people rescued the wounded, and then we +fell back. The Army was utterly demoralized and made a headlong retreat, +during which many wounded men were left to die in the woods. Shanks and +I paddled a light bark canoe down the Lake next day, in the bottom of +which lay a wounded British officer attended by his servant. + +[Illustration: 34 PADDLING THE WOUNDED BRITISH OFFICER] + +I took my discharge, and lived until the following Spring with Vrooman +at German Flats, when I had a desire to go again to the more active +service of the Rangers, for living in camps and scouting, +notwithstanding its dangers, was agreeable to my taste in those days. So +back to Albany I started, and there met Major Rogers, whom I acquainted +with my desire to again join his service, whereat he seemed right glad +to put me downe. I accordingly journeyed to Crown Point, where I went +into camp. I had bought me a new fire-lock at Albany which was provided +with a bayonet. It was short, as is best fitted for the bush, and about +45 balls to the pound. I had shot it ten times on trial and it had not +failed to discharge at each pull. There was a great change in the +private men of the Rangers, so many old ones had been frost bitten and +gone home. I found my friend Shanks, who had staid though he had been +badly frosted during the winter. He had such a hate of the Frenchers and +particularly of the Canada Indians that he would never cease to fight +them, they having killed all his relatives in New Hampshire which made +him bitter against them, he always saying that they might as well kill +him and thus make an end of the family. + +In June I went north down Champlain with 250 Rangers and Light Infantry +in sloop-vessels. + +The Rangers were.... (writing lost).... but it made no difference. The +party was landed on the west side of the Lake near Isle au Noix and lay +five days in the bush, it raining hard all the time. I was out with a +recoinnoitering party to watch the Isle, and very early in the morning +we saw the French coming to our side in boats, whereat we acquainted +Major Rogers that the French were about to attack us. We were drawn up +in line to await their coming. The forest always concealed a Ranger +line, so that there might not have been a man within a hundred miles for +all that could be seen, and so it was that an advance party of the Enemy +walked into our line and were captured, which first appraised the French +of our position. They shortly attacked us on our left, but I was sent +with a party to make our way through a swamp in order to attack their +rear. This we accomplished so quietly that we surprized some Canada +indians who were lying back of the French line listening to a prophet +who was incanting. These we slew, and after our firing many French +grenadiers came running past, when they broke before our line. I took a +Frenchman prisoner, but he kept his bayonet pointed at me, all the time +yelling in French which I did not understand, though I had my loaded gun +pointed at him. He seemed to be disturbed at the sight of a scalp which +I had hanging in my belt. I had lately took it from the head of an +Indian, it being my first, but I was not minded to kill the poor +Frenchman and was saying so in English. He put down his fire-lock +finally and offered me his flask to drink liquor with him, but I did not +use it. I had known that Shanks carried poisoned liquor in his pack, +with the hope that it would destroy any indians who might come into +possession of it, if he was taken, whether alive or dead. As I was +escorting the Frenchman back to our boats he quickly ran away from me, +though I snapped my fire-lock at him, which failed to explode, it having +become wet from the rain. Afterwards I heard that a Ranger had shot him, +seeing him running in the bush. + +[Illustration: 35 THE CAPTURE OF THE FRENCH GRENADIER] + +We went back to our boats after this victory and took all our wounded +and dead with us, which last we buried on an island. Being joined by a +party of Stockbridge Indians we were again landed, and after marching +for some days came to a road where we recoinnoitered St. John's Fort but +did not attack it, Rogers judging it not to be takeable with our force. +From here we began to march so fast that only the strongest men could +keep up, and at day-break came to another Fort. We ran into the gate +while a hay-waggon was passing through, and surprised and captured all +the garrison, men women and children. After we had burned and destroyed +everything we turned the women and children adrift, but drove the men +along as prisoners, making them carry our packs. We marched so fast that +the French grenadiers could not keep up, for their breeches were too +tight for them to march with ease, whereat we cut off the legs of them +with our knives, when they did better. + +After this expedition we scouted from Crown Point in canoes, Shanks and +myself going as far north as we dared toward Isle au Noix, and one day +while lying on the bank we saw the army coming. It was an awesome sight +to see so many boats filled with brave uniforms, as they danced over the +waves. The Rangers and Indians came a half a mile ahead of the Army in +whale-boats all in line abreast, while behind them came the light +Infantry and Grenadiers with Provincial troops on the flanks and +Artillery and Store boats bringing up the Rear. + +Shanks and I fell in with the Ranger boats, being yet in our small bark +and much hurled about by the waves, which rolled prodigious. + +The Army continued up the Lake and drove the Frenchers out of their +Forts, they not stopping to resist us till we got to Chamblee, where we +staid. But the French in Canada had all surrendered to the British and +the war was over. This ended my service as a Ranger in those parts. I +went back to Vroomans intending to go again into the indian trade, for +now we hoped that the French would no longer be able to stop our +enterprises. + +Now my dear son--I will send you this long letter, and will go on +writing of my later life in the Western country and in the War of +Independence, and will send you those letters as soon as I have them +written. I did not do much or occupy a commanding position, but I served +faithfully in what I had to do. For the present God bless you my dear +son. + +JOSHUA GOODENOUGH. + + + + +CRACKER COWBOYS OF FLORIDA + + +ONE can thresh the straw of history until he is well worn out, and also +is running some risk of wearing others out who may have to listen, so I +will waive the telling of who the first cowboy was, even if I knew; but +the last one who has come under my observation lives down in Florida, +and the way it happened was this: I was sitting in a “sto' do',” as the +“Crackers” say, waiting for the clerk to load some “number eights,” when +my friend said, “Look at the cowboys!” This immediately caught my +interest. With me cowboys are what gems and porcelains are to some +others. Two very emaciated Texas ponies pattered down the street, +bearing wild-looking individuals, whose hanging hair and drooping hats +and generally bedraggled appearance would remind you at once of the +Spanish-moss which hangs so quietly and helplessly to the limbs of the +oaks out in the swamps. There was none of the bilious fierceness and +rearing plunge which I had associated with my friends out West, but as a +fox-terrier is to a yellow cur, so were these last. They had on about +four dollars' worth of clothes between them, and rode McClellan saddles, +with saddle-bags, and guns tied on before. The only things they did +which were conventional were to tie their ponies up by the head in +brutal disregard, and then get drunk in about fifteen minutes. I could +see that in this case, while some of the tail feathers were the same, +they would easily classify as new birds. + +[Illustration: 36 ABOUT FOUR DOLLARS WORTH OF CLOTHES BETWEEN THEM] + +“And so you have cowboys down here?” I said to the man who ran the +meat-market. + +He picked a tiny piece of raw liver out of the meshes of his long black +beard, tilted his big black hat, shoved his arms into his white apron +front, and said: + +“Gawd! yes, stranger; I was one myself.” + +The plot thickened so fast that I was losing much, so I became more +deliberate. “Do the boys come into town often?” I inquired further. + +“Oh yes, 'mos' every little spell,” replied the butcher, as he reached +behind his weighing-scales and picked up a double-barrelled shot-gun, +sawed off. “We-uns are expectin' of they-uns to-day.” + +And he broke the barrels and took out the shells to examine them. + +“Do they come shooting?” I interposed. + +He shut the gun with a snap. “We split even, stranger.” + +Seeing that the butcher was a fragile piece of bric-a-brac, and that I +might need him for future study, I bethought me of the banker down the +street. Bankers are bound to be broad-gauged, intelligent, and +conservative, so I would go to him and get at the ancient history of +this neck of woods. I introduced myself, and was invited behind the +counter. The look of things reminded me of one of those great green +terraces which conceal fortifications and ugly cannon. It was boards and +wire screen in front, but behind it were shot-guns and six-shooters hung +in the handiest way, on a sort of disappearing gun-carriage arrangement. +Shortly one of the cowboys of the street scene floundered in. He was +two-thirds drunk, with brutal, shifty eyes and a flabby lower lip. + +“I want twenty dollars on the old man. Ken I have it?” + +I rather expected that the bank would go into “action front,” but the +clerk said, “Certainly,” and completed this rather odd financial +transaction, whereat the bull-hunter stumbled out. + +[Illustration: 37 A CRACKER COWBOY] + +“Who is the old man in this case?” I ventured. + +“Oh, it's his boss, old Colonel Zuigg, of Crow City. I gave some money +to some of his boys some weeks ago, and when the colonel was down here I +asked him if he wanted the boys to draw against him in that way, and he +said, 'Yes--for a small amount; they will steal a cow or two, and pay me +that way.'” + +Here was something tangible. + +“What happens when a man steals another man's brand in this country?” + +“He mustn't get caught; that's all. They all do it, but they never bring +their troubles into court. They just shoot it out there in the bresh. +The last time old Colonel Zuigg brought Zorn Zuidden in here and had him +indicted for stealing cattle, said Zorn: 'Now see here, old man Zuigg, +what do you want for to go and git me arrested fer? I have stole +thousands of cattle and put your mark and brand on 'em, and jes because +I have stole a couple of hundred from you, you go and have me indicted. +You jes better go and get that whole deal nol pressed;' and it was +done.” + +The argument was perfect. + +“From that I should imagine that the cow-people have no more idea of law +than the 'gray apes,'” I commented. + +“Yes, that's about it. Old Colonel Zuigg was a judge fer a spell, till +some feller filled him with buckshot, and he had to resign; and I +remember he decided a case aginst me once. I was hot about it, and the +old colonel he saw I was. Says he, 'Now yer mad, ain't you?' And I +allowed I was. 'Well,' says he, 'you hain't got no call to get mad. I +have decided the last eight cases in yer favor, and you kain't have it +go yer way all the time; it wouldn't look right;' and I had to be +satisfied.” + +The courts in that locality were but the faint and sickly flame of a +taper offered at the shrine of a justice which was traditional only, it +seemed. Moral forces having ceased to operate, the large owners began to +brand everything in sight, never realizing that they were sowing the +wind. This action naturally demoralized the cowboys, who shortly began +to brand a little on their own account--and then the deluge. The rights +of property having been destroyed, the large owners put strong outfits +in the field, composed of desperate men armed to the teeth, and what +happens in the lonely pine woods no one knows but the desperadoes +themselves, albeit some of them never come back to the little fringe of +settlements. The winter visitor from the North kicks up the jack-snipe +along the beach or tarponizes in the estuaries of the Gulf, and when he +comes to the hotel for dinner he eats Chicago dressed beef, but out in +the wilderness low-browed cow-folks shoot and stab each other for the +possession of scrawny creatures not fit for a pointer-dog to mess on. +One cannot but feel the force of Buckle's law of “the physical aspects +of nature” in this sad country. Flat and sandy, with miles on miles of +straight pine timber, each tree an exact duplicate of its neighbor tree, +and underneath the scrub palmettoes, the twisted brakes and +hammocks, and the gnarled water-oaks festooned with the sad gray +Spanish-moss--truly not a country for a high-spirited race or moral +giants. + +[Illustration: 38 FIGHTING OVER A STOLEN HERD] + +The land gives only a tough wiregrass, and the poor little cattle, no +bigger than a donkey, wander half starved and horribly emaciated in +search of it. There used to be a trade with Cuba, but now that has gone; +and beyond the supplying of Key West and the small fringe of settlements +they have no market. How well the cowboys serve their masters I can only +guess, since the big owners do not dare go into the woods, or even to +their own doors at night, and they do not keep a light burning in the +houses. One, indeed, attempted to assert his rights, but some one pumped +sixteen buckshot into him as he bent over a spring to drink, and he left +the country. They do tell of a late encounter between two rival foremen, +who rode on to each other in the woods, and drawing, fired, and both +were found stretched dying under the palmettoes, one calling deliriously +the name of his boss. The unknown reaches of the Everglades lie just +below, and with a half-hour's start a man who knew the country would be +safe from pursuit, even if it were attempted; and, as one man cheerfully +confided to me, “A boat don't leave no trail, stranger.” + +That might makes right, and that they steal by wholesale, any +cattle-hunter will admit; and why they brand at all I cannot see, since +one boy tried to make it plain to me, as he shifted his body in drunken +abandon and grabbed my pencil and a sheet of wrapping paper: “See yer; +ye see that?” And he drew a circle O, and then another ring around it, +thus: (O). “That brand ain't no good. Well, then--” And again his +knotted and dirty fingers essayed the brand I O. He laboriously drew +upon it and made E-O which of course destroyed the former brand. + +“Then here,” he continued, as he drew 13, “all ye've got ter do is +this--313.” I gasped in amazement, not at his cleverness as a +brand-destroyer, but at his honest abandon. With a horrible operatic +laugh, such as is painted in “The Cossack's Answer,” he again +laboriously drew (+) (the circle cross), and then added some marks which +made it look like this: S(+)S. And again breaking into his devil's “ha, +ha!” said, “Make the damned thing whirl.” + +[Illustration: 39 IN WAIT FOR AN ENEMY] + +I did not protest. He would have shot me for that. But I did wish he was +living in the northwest quarter of New Mexico, where Mr. Cooper and Dan +could throw their eyes over the trail of his pony. Of course each man +has adjusted himself to this lawless rustling, and only calculates that +he can steal as much as his opponent. It is rarely that their affairs +are brought to court, but when they are, the men come _en masse_ to the +room, armed with knives and rifles, so that any decision is bound to be +a compromise, or it will bring on a general engagement. + +There is also a noticeable absence of negroes among them, as they still +retain some _ante bellum_ theories, and it is only very lately that they +have “reconstructed.” Their general ignorance is “miraculous,” and quite +mystifying to an outside man. Some whom I met did not even know where +the Texas was which furnishes them their ponies. The railroads of +Florida have had their ups and downs with them in a petty way on account +of the running over of their cattle by the trains; and then some +long-haired old Cracker drops into the nearest station with his gun and +pistol, and wants the telegraph operator to settle immediately on the +basis of the Cracker's claim for damages, which is always absurdly high. +At first the railroads demurred, but the cowboys lined up in the “bresh” + on some dark night and pumped Winchesters into the train in a highly +picturesque way. The trainmen at once recognized the force of the +Cracker's views on cattle-killing, but it took some considerable +“potting” at the more conservative superintendents before the latter +could bestir themselves and invent a “cow-attorney,” as the company +adjuster is called, who now settles with the bushmen as best he can. +Certainly no worse people ever lived since the big killing up +Muscleshell way, and the romance is taken out of it by the cowardly +assassination which is the practice. They are well paid for their +desperate work, and always eat fresh beef or “razor-backs,” and deer +which they kill in the woods. The heat, the poor grass, their brutality, +and the pest of the flies kill their ponies, and, as a rule, they lack +dash and are indifferent riders, but they are picturesque in their +unkempt, almost unearthly wildness. A strange effect is added by their +use of large, fierce cur-dogs, one of which accompanies each +cattle-hunter, and is taught to pursue cattle, and to even take them by +the nose, which is another instance of their brutality. Still, as they +only have a couple of horses apiece, it saves them much extra running. +These men do not use the rope, unless to noose a pony in a corral, but +work their cattle in strong log corrals, which are made at about a day's +march apart all through the woods. Indeed, ropes are hardly necessary, +since the cattle are so small and thin that two men can successfully +“wrestle” a three-year-old. A man goes into the corral, grabs a cow by +one horn, and throwing his other arm over her back, waits until some +other man takes her hind leg, whereat ensues some very entertaining +Graeco-Roman style. + +[Illustration: 40 A BIT OF COW COUNTRY] + +When the cow is successful, she finds her audience of Cracker cowboys +sitting on the fence awaiting another opening, and gasping for breath. +The best bull will not go over three hundred pounds, while I have seen a +yearling at a hundred and fifty--if you, O knights of the riata, can +imagine it! Still, it is desperate work. Some of the men are so reckless +and active that they do not hesitate to encounter a wild bull in the +open. The cattle are as wild as deer, they race off at scent; and when +“rounded up” many will not drive, whereupon these are promptly shot. It +frequently happens that when the herd is being driven quietly along a +bull will turn on the drivers, charging at once. Then there is a scamper +and great shooting. The bulls often become so maddened in these forays +that they drop and die in their tracks, for which strange fact no one +can account, but as a rule they are too scrawny and mean to make their +handling difficult. + +So this is the Cracker cowboy, whose chief interest would be found in +the tales of some bushwhacking enterprise, which I very much fear would +be a one-sided story, and not worth the telling. At best they must be +revolting, having no note of the savage encounters which used to +characterize the easy days in West Texas and New Mexico, when every man +tossed his life away to the crackle of his own revolver. The moon shows +pale through the leafy canopy on their evening fires, and the mists, the +miasma, and the mosquitoes settle over their dreary camp talk. In place +of the wild stampede, there is only the bellowing in the pens, and +instead of the plains shaking under the dusty air as the bedizened +vaqueros plough their fiery broncos through the milling herds, the +cattle-hunter wends his lonely way through the ooze and rank grass, +while the dreary pine trunks line up and shut the view. + +[Illustration: 41 COWBOYS WRESTLING A BULL] + + + + +THE STRANGE DAYS THAT CAME TO JIMMIE FRIDAY + + +THE “Abwee-chemun” [Algonquin for “paddle and canoe.”] Club was +organized with six charter members at a heavy lunch in the Savarin +restaurant--one of those lunches which make through connections to +dinner without change. One member basely deserted, while two more lost +all their enthusiasm on the following morning, but three of us stuck. We +vaguely knew that somewhere north of the Canadian Pacific and south of +Hudson Bay were big lakes and rapid rivers--lakes whose names we did not +know; lakes bigger than Champlain, with unnamed rivers between them. We +did not propose to be boated around in a big birch-bark by two voyagers +among blankets and crackers and ham, but each provided himself a little +thirteen-foot cedar canoe, twenty-nine inches in the beam, and weighing +less than forty pounds. I cannot tell you precisely how our party was +sorted, but one was a lawyer with eyeglasses and settled habits, loving +nature, though detesting canoes; the other was nominally a merchant, but +in reality an atavie Norseman of the wolf and raven kind; while I am not +new. Together we started. + +Presently the Abwees sat about the board of a lumbermen's hotel, filled +with house-flies and slatternly waiter-girls, who talked familiarly +while they served greasy food. The Abwees were yet sore in their minds +at the thoughts of the smelly beds up-stairs, and discouragement sat +deeply on their souls. But their time was not yet. + +After breakfast they marched to the Hudson Bay Company's store, knowing +as they did that in Canada there are only two places for a traveller to +go who wants anything--the great company or the parish priest; and then, +having explained to the factor their dream, they were told “that beyond, +beyond some days' journey”--oh! that awful beyond, which for centuries +has stood across the path of the pioneer, and in these latter days +confronts the sportsman and wilderness-lover--“that beyond some days' +journey to the north was a country such as they had dreamed--up +Temis-camingue and beyond.” + +The subject of a guide was considered. + +Jimmie Friday always brought a big toboggan-load of furs into Fort +Tiemogamie every spring, and was accounted good in his business. He and +his big brother trapped together, and in turn followed the ten days' +swing through the snow-laden forest which they had covered with their +dead-falls and steel-jawed traps; but when the ice went out in the +rivers, and the great pines dripped with the melting snows, they had +nothing more to do but cut a few cords of wood for their widowed +mother's cabin near the post. Then the brother and he paddled down to +Bais des Pierres, where the brother engaged as a deck hand on a +steamboat, and Jimmie hired himself as a guide for some bush-rangers, as +the men are called who explore for pine lands for the great lumber +firms. Having worked all summer and got through with that business, +Jimmie bethought him to dissipate for a few days in the bustling lumber +town down on the Ottawa River. He had been there before to feel the +exhilaration of civilization, but beyond that clearing he had never +known anything more inspiring than a Hudson Bay post, which is generally +a log store, a house where the agent lives, and a few tiny Indian cabins +set higgledy-piggledy in a sunburnt gash of stumps and bowlders, lost in +the middle of the solemn, unresponsive forest. On this morning in +question he had stepped from his friend's cabin up in the Indian +village, and after lighting a perfectly round and rather yellow cigar, +he had instinctively wandered down to the Hudson Bay store, there to +find himself amused by a strange sight. + +The Abwees had hired two French-Indian voyagers of sinister mien, and a +Scotch-Canadian boy bred to the bush. They were out on the grass, +engaged in taking burlaps off three highly polished canoes, while the +clerk from the store ran out and asked questions about “how much bacon,” + and, “will fifty pounds of pork be enough, sir?” + +The round yellow cigar was getting stubby, while Jimmie's modest eyes +sought out the points of interest in the new-comers, when he was +suddenly and sharply addressed: + +“Can you cook?” + +Jimmie couldn't do anything in a hurry, except chop a log in two, paddle +very fast, and shoot quickly, so he said, as was his wont: + +“I think--I dun'no'--” + +“Well, how much?” came the query. + +“Two daul--ars--” said Jimmie. + +The transaction was complete. The yellow butt went over the fence, and +Jimmie shed his coat. He was directed to lend a hand by the bustling +sportsmen, and requested to run and find things of which he had never +before in his life heard the name. + +[Illustration: 42 THE LAWYER HAD BECOME A VOYAGER] + +After two days' travel the Abwees were put ashore--boxes, bags, rolls of +blankets, canoes, Indians, and plunder of many sorts--on a pebbly beach, +and the steamer backed off and steamed away. They had reached the +“beyond” at last, and the odoriferous little bedrooms, the bustle of the +preparation, the cares of their lives, were behind. Then there was a +girding up of the loins, a getting out of tump-lines and canvas packs, +and the long portage was begun. + +The voyagers carried each two hundred pounds as they stalked away into +the wilderness, while the attorney-at-law “hefted” his pack, wiped his +eyeglasses with his pocket-handkerchief, and tried cheerfully to assume +the responsibilities of “a dead game sport.” + +“I cannot lift the thing, and how I am going to carry it is more than I +know; but I'm a dead game sport, and I am going to try. I do not want to +be dead game, but it looks as though I couldn't help it. Will some +gentleman help me to adjust this cargo?” + +The night overtook the outfit in an old beaver meadow half-way through +the trail. Like all first camps, it was tough. The lean-to tents went up +awkwardly. No one could find anything. Late at night the Abwees lay on +their backs under the blankets, while the fog settled over the meadow +and blotted out the stars. + +On the following day the stuff was all gotten through, and by this time +the lawyer had become a voyager, willing to carry anything he could +stagger under. It is strange how one can accustom himself to “pack.” He +may never use the tump-line, since it goes across the head, and will +unseat his intellect if he does, but with shoulder-straps and a +tump-line a man who thinks he is not strong will simply amaze himself +inside of a week by what he can do. As for our little canoes, we could +trot with them. Each Abwee carried his own belongings and his boat, +which entitled him to the distinction of “a dead game sport,” whatever +that may mean, while the Indians portaged their larger canoes and our +mass of supplies, making many trips backward and forward in the process. + +At the river everything was parcelled out and arranged. The birch-barks +were repitched, and every man found out what he was expected to portage +and do about camp. After breaking and making camp three times, the +outfit could pack up, load the canoes, and move inside of fifteen +minutes. At the first camp the lawyer essayed his canoe, and was +cautioned that the delicate thing might flirt with him. He stepped in +and sat gracefully down in about two feet of water, while the “delicate +thing” shook herself saucily at his side. After he had crawled dripping +ashore and wiped his eye-glasses, he engaged to sell the “delicate +thing” to an Indian for one dollar and a half on a promissory note. The +trade was suppressed, and he was urged to try again. A man who has held +down a cane-bottom chair conscientiously for fifteen years looks askance +at so fickle a thing as a canoe twenty-nine inches in the beam. They are +nearly as hard to sit on in the water as a cork; but once one is in the +bottom they are stable enough, though they do not submit to liberties or +palsied movements. The staid lawyer was filled with horror at the +prospect of another go at his polished beauty; but remembering his +resolve to be dead game, he abandoned his life to the chances, and got +in this time safely. + +[Illustration: 43 IT IS STRANGE HOW ONE CAN ACCUSTOM HIMSELF TO 'PACK'] + +So the Abwees went down the river on a golden morning, their +double-blade paddles flashing the sun and sending the drip in a shower +on the glassy water. The smoke from the lawyer's pipe hung behind him in +the quiet air, while the note of the reveille clangored from the little +buglette of the Norseman. Jimmie and the big Scotch backwoodsman swayed +their bodies in one boat, while the two sinister voyagers dipped their +paddles in the big canoe. + +The Norseman's gorge came up, and he yelled back: “Say! this suits me. I +am never going back to New York.” + +Jimmie grinned at the noise; it made him happy. Such a morning, such a +water, such a lack of anything to disturb one's peace! Let man's better +nature revel in the beauties of existence; they inflate his soul. The +colors play upon the senses--the reddish-yellow of the birch-barks, the +blue of the water, and the silver sheen as it parts at the bows of the +canoes; the dark evergreens, the steely rocks with their lichens, the +white trunks of the birches, their fluffy tops so greeny green, and over +all the gold of a sunny day. It is my religion, this thing, and I do not +know how to tell all I feel concerning it. + +The rods were taken out, a gang of flies put on and trolled behind--but +we have all seen a man fight a five-pound bass for twenty minutes. The +waters fairly swarmed with them, and we could always get enough for the +“pot” in a half-hour's fishing at any time during the trip. The Abwees +were canoeing, not hunting or fishing; though, in truth, they did not +need to hunt spruce-partridge or fish for bass in any sporting sense; +they simply went out after them, and never stayed over half an hour. On +a point we stopped for lunch: the Scotchman always struck the beach +a-cooking. He had a “kit,” which was a big camp-pail, and inside of it +were more dishes than are to be found in some hotels. He broiled the +bacon, instead of frying it, and thus we were saved the terrors of +indigestion. He had many luxuries in his commissary, among them dried +apples, with which he filled a camp-pail one day and put them on to +boil. They subsequently got to be about a foot deep all over the camp, +while Furguson stood around and regarded the black-magic of the thing +with overpowering emotions and Homeric tongue. Furguson was a good +genius, big and gentle, and a woodsman root and branch. The Abwees had +intended their days in the wilderness to be happy singing flights of +time, but with grease and paste in one's stomach what may not befall the +mind when it is bent on nature's doings? + +[Illustration: 44 DOWN THE RIVER ON A GOLDEN MORNING] + +And thus it was that the gloomy Indian Jimmie Friday, despite his +tuberculosis begotten of insufficient nourishment, was happy in these +strange days--even to the extent of looking with wondrous eyes on the +nooks which we loved--nooks which previously for him had only sheltered +possible “dead-falls” or not, as the discerning eye of the trapper +decided the prospects for pelf. + +Going ashore on a sandy beach, Jimmie wandered down its length, his +hunter mind seeking out the footprints of his prey. He stooped down, and +then beckoned me to come, which I did. + +Pointing at the sand, he said, “You know him?” + +“Wolves,” I answered. + +“Yes--first time I see 'em up here--they be follerin' the +deers--bad--bad. No can trap 'em--verrie smart.” + +A half-dozen wolves had chased a deer into the water; but wolves do not +take to the water, so they had stopped and drank, and then gone +rollicking-together up the beach. There were cubs, and one great track +as big as a mastiff might make. + +“See that--moose track--he go by yesterday;” and Jimmie pointed to +enormous footprints in the muck of a marshy place. “Verrie big moose--we +make call at next camp--think it is early for call.” + +At the next camp Jimmie made the usual birch-bark moose-call, and at +evening blew it, as he also did on the following morning. This camp was +a divine spot on a rise back of a long sandy beach, and we concluded to +stop for a day. The Norseman and I each took a man in our canoes and +started out to explore. I wanted to observe some musk-rat hotels down in +a big marsh, and the Norseman was fishing. The attorney was content to +sit on a log by the shores of the lake, smoke lazily, and watch the sun +shimmer through the lifting fog. He saw a canoe approaching from across +the lake. He gazed vacantly at it, when it grew strange and more unlike +a canoe. The paddles did not move, but the phantom craft drew quickly +on. + +[Illustration: 45 A REAL CAMP] + +“Say, Furguson--come here--look at that canoe.” + +The Scotchman came down, with a pail in one hand, and looked. +“Canoe--hell--it's a moose--and there ain't a pocket-pistol in this +camp,” and he fairly jumped up and down. + +“You don't say--you really don't say!” gasped the lawyer, who now began +to exhibit signs of insanity. + +“Yes--he's going to be d----d sociable with us--he's coming right bang +into this camp.” + +The Indian too came down, but he was long past talking English, and the +gutturals came up in lumps, as though he was trying to keep them down. + +The moose finally struck a long point of sand and rushes about two +hundred yards away, and drew majestically out of the water, his hide +dripping, and the sun glistening on his antlers and back. + +The three men gazed in spellbound admiration at the picture until the +moose was gone. When they had recovered their senses they slowly went up +to the camp on the ridge--disgusted and dum-founded. + +“I could almost put a cartridge in that old gun-case and kill him,” + sighed the backwoodsman. + +“I have never hunted in my life,” mused the attorney, “but few men have +seen such a sight,” and he filled his pipe. + +“Hark--listen!” said the Indian. There was a faint cracking, which +presently became louder. “He's coming into camp;” and the Indian nearly +died from excitement as he grabbed a hatchet. The three unfortunate men +stepped to the back of the tents, and as big a bull moose as walks the +lonely woods came up to within one hundred and fifty feet of the camp, +and stopped, returning their gaze. + +Thus they stood for what they say was a minute, but which seemed like +hours. The attorney composedly admired the unusual sight. The Indian and +Furguson swore softly but most viciously until the moose moved away. The +Indian hurled the hatchet at the retreating figure, with a final curse, +and the thing was over. + +“Those fellows who are out in their canoes will be sick abed when we +tell them what's been going on in the camp this morning,” sighed Mr. +Furguson, as he scoured a cooking-pot. + +I fear we would have had that moose on our consciences if we had been +there: the game law was not up at the time, but I should have asked for +strength from a higher source than my respect for law. + +The golden days passed and the lake grew great. + +[Illustration: 46 ROUGH WATER] + +The wind blew at our backs. The waves rolled in restless surges, piling +the little canoes on their crests and swallowing them in the troughs. +The canoes thrashed the water as they flew along, half in, half out, but +they rode like ducks. The Abwees took off their hats, gripped their +double blades, made the water swirl behind them, howled in glee to each +other through the rushing storm. To be five miles from shore in a seaway +in kayaks like ours was a sensation. We found they stood it well, and +grew contented. It was the complement to the golden lazy days when the +water was glass, and the canoes rode upsidedown over its mirror surface. +The Norseman grinned and shook his head in token of his pleasure, much +as an epicure might after a sip of superior Burgundy. + +“How do you fancy this?” we asked the attorney-at-law. + +“I am not going to deliver an opinion until I get ashore. I would never +have believed that I would be here at my time of life, but one never +knows what a ---- fool one can make of one's self. My glasses are covered +with water, and I can hardly see, but I can't let go of this paddle to +wipe them,” shrieked the man of the office chair, in the howl of the +weather. + +But we made a long journey by the aid of the wind, and grew a contempt +for it. How could one imagine the stability of those little boats until +one had tried it? + +That night we put into a natural harbor and camped on a gravel beach. +The tents were up and the supper cooking, when the wind hauled and blew +furiously into our haven. The fires were scattered and the rain came in +blinding sheets. The tent-pegs pulled from the sand. We sprang to our +feet and held on to the poles, wet to the skin. It was useless; the rain +blew right under the canvas. We laid the tents on the “grub” and stepped +out into the dark. We could not be any wetter, and we did not care. To +stand in the dark in the wilderness, with nothing to eat, and a +fire-engine playing a hose on you for a couple of hours--if you have +imagination enough, you can fill in the situation. But the gods were +propitious. The wind died down. The stars came out by myriads. The fires +were relighted, and the ordinary life begun. It was late in the night +before our clothes, blankets, and tents were dry, but, like boys, we +forgot it all. + +Then came a river--blue and flat like the sky above--running through +rushy banks, backed by the masses of the forest; anon the waters rushed +upon us over the rocks, and we fought, plunk-plunk-plunk, with the +paddles, until our strength gave out. We stepped out into the water, and +getting our lines, and using our long double blades as fenders, +“tracked” the canoes up through the boil. The Indians in their heavier +boats used “setting-poles” with marvellous dexterity, and by furious +exertion were able to draw steadily up the grade--though at times they +too “tracked,” and even portaged. Our largest canoe weighed two hundred +pounds, but a little voyager managed to lug it, though how I couldn't +comprehend, since his pipe-stem legs fairly bent and wobbled under the +enormous ark. None of us by this time were able to lift the loads which +we carried, but, like a Western pack-mule, we stood about and had things +piled on to us, until nothing more would stick. Some of the backwoodsmen +carry incredible masses of stuff, and their lore is full of tales which +no one could be expected to believe. Our men did not hesitate to take +two hundred and fifty pounds over short portages, which were very rough +and stony, though they all said if they slipped they expected to break a +leg. This is largely due to the tump-line, which is laid over the head, +while persons unused to it must have shoulder-straps in addition, which +are not as good, because the “breastbone,” so called, is not strong +enough. + +[Illustration: 47 THE INDIANS USED 'SETTING-POLES'] + +We were getting day by day farther into “the beyond.” There were no +traces here of the hand of man. Only Jimmie knew the way--it was his +trapping-ground. Only once did we encounter people. We were blown into a +little board dock, on a gray day, with the waves piling up behind us, +and made a difficult landing. Here were a few tiny log houses--an +outpost of the Hudson Bay Company. We renewed our stock of provisions, +after laborious trading with the stagnated people who live in the lonely +place. There was nothing to sell us but a few of the most common +necessities; however, we needed only potatoes and sugar. This was +Jimmie's home. Here we saw his poor old mother, who was being tossed +about in the smallest of canoes as she drew her nets. Jimmie's father +had gone on a hunting expedition and had never come back. Some day +Jimmie's old mother will go out on the wild lake to tend her nets, and +she will not come back. Some time Jimmie too will not return--for this +Indian struggle with nature is appalling in its fierceness. + +There was a dance at the post, which the boys attended, going by canoe +at night, and they came back early in the morning, with much giggling at +their gallantries. + +The loneliness of this forest life is positively discouraging to think +about. What the long winters must be in the little cabins I cannot +imagine, and I fear the traders must be all avarice, or have none at +all; for there can certainly be absolutely no intellectual life. There +is undoubtedly work, but not one single problem concerning it. The +Indian hunters do fairly well in a financial way, though their lives are +beset with weakening hardships and constant danger. Their meagre diet +wears out their constitutions, and they are subject to disease. The +simplicity of their minds makes it very difficult to see into their life +as they try to narrate it to one who may be interested. + +[Illustration: 48 TRYING MOMENTS] + +From here on was through beautiful little lakes, and the voyagers rigged +blanket sails on the big canoes, while we towed behind. Then came the +river and the rapids, which we ran, darting between rocks, bumping on +sunken stones--shooting fairly out into the air, all but turning over +hundreds of times. One day the Abwees glided out in the big lake +Tesmiaquemang, and saw the steamer going to Bais des Pierres. We hailed +her, and she stopped, while the little canoes danced about in the swell +as we were loaded one by one. On the deck above us the passengers +admired a kind of boat the like of which had not before appeared in +these parts. + +At Bais des Pierres we handed over the residue of the commissaries of +the Abwee-Chemun to Jimmie Friday, including personally many pairs of +well-worn golf-breeches, sweaters, rubber coats, knives which would be +proscribed by law in New York. If Jimmie ever parades his solemn +wilderness in these garbs, the owls will laugh from the trees. Our +simple forest friend laid in his winter stock--traps, flour, salt, +tobacco, and pork, a new axe--and accompanied us back down the lake +again on the steamer. She stopped in mid-stream, while Jimmie got his +bundles into his “bark” and shoved off, amid a hail of “good-byes.” + +The engine palpitated, the big wheel churned the water astern, and we +drew away. Jimmie bent on his paddle with the quick body-swing habitual +to the Indian, and after a time grew a speck on the reflection of the +red sunset in Temiscamingue. + +The Abwees sat sadly leaning on the after-rail, and agreed that Jimmie +was “a lovely Injun.” Jimmie had gone into the shade of the overhang of +the cliffs, when the Norseman started violently up, put his hands in his +pockets, stamped his foot, said, “By George, fellows, any D. F. would +call this a sporting trip!” + + + + +THE SOLEDAD GIRLS + + +“TO-NIGHT I am going down to my ranch--the Soledad--in my private car,” + said the manager of the Mexican International Railroad, “and I would +like the Captain and you to accompany me.” + +The Captain and I were only too glad; so in process of time we awoke to +find our car sidetracked on the Soledad, which is in the state of +Coahuila, Mexico. The chaparral spread around, rising and falling in the +swell of the land, until it beat against the blue ridge of the Sierra +Santa Rosa, miles to the north. Here and there the bright sun spotted on +a cow as she threaded the gray stretches; a little coyote-wolf sat on +his haunches on a near-by hill-side, and howled protests at his +new-found companions; while dimly through the gray meshes of the +leaf-denuded chaparral we could see the main ranch-house of the Soledad. +We were informed at breakfast by the railroad manager that there was to +be that day a “round-up,” which is to say, a regular Buffalo Bill Show, +with real cowboys, ponies, and cattle, all three of them wild, full of +thorns, and just out of the brush. + +The negro porters got out the saddles of the young women, thus +disclosing their intention to ride ponies instead of in traps. We +already knew that they were fearless horseback-riders, but when the +string of ponies which were to be our mounts was led up by a few +Mexicans, the Captain and I had our well-concealed doubts about their +being proper sort of ponies for young girls to ride. We confided in an +imperturbable cowboy--one of those dry Texans. He said: “Them are what +we would call broke ponies, and you fellers needn't get to worryin' +'bout them little girls--you're jest a-foolin' away good time.” + Nevertheless, the broncos had the lurking devil in the tails of their +eyes as they stood there tied to the wire fencing; they were humble and +dejected as only a bronco or a mule can simulate. When that ilk look +most cast down, be not deceived, gay brother; they are not like this. +Their humility is only humorous, and intended to lure you on to their +backs, where, unless you have a perfect understanding of the game, the +joke will be on you. Instantly one is mounted, the humility departs; he +plunges and starts about, or sets off like the wind, regardless of +thorny bushes, tricky ground underfoot, or the seat of the rider. + +The manager's wife came out of the car with her little brood of three, +and then two visiting friends. These Soledad girls, as I call them, each +had a sunburst of yellow hair, were well bronzed by the Mexican sun, and +were sturdy little bodies. They were dressed in short skirts, with +leggings, topped with Tam o' Shanters, while about their waists were +cartridge-belts, with delicate knives and revolvers attached, and with +spurs and _quirts_ as accessories. They took up their men's saddles, for +they rode astride, except the two visitors, who were older and more +lately from Chicago. They swung their saddles on to the ponies, showing +familiarity with the _ladigo_ straps of the Texas saddles, and proudly +escaping the humiliation which alights on the head of one who in the +cow-camps cannot saddle his own “bronc.” Being ready, we mounted, and +followed a cowboy off down the road to the _rodeo-ground._ The manager +and Madam Mamma rode in a buckboard, proudly following with their gaze +the galloping ponies which bore their jewels. I thought they should be +fearful for their safety, but after more intimate inspection, I could +see how groundless was such solicitude. + +I must have it understood that these little vaquero girls were not the +ordinary Texas product, fed on corn-meal and bred in the chaparral, but +the much looked after darlings of a fond mother. They are taken South +every winter, that their bodies may be made lithe and healthy, but at +the same time two or more governesses crowd their minds with French, +German, and other things with which proper young girls should be +acquainted. But their infant minds did not carry back to the days when +they had not felt a horse under them. To be sure, in the beginning it +was only a humble donkey, but even before they knew they had graduated +to ponies, and while yet ten years old, it was only by a constant watch +that they were kept off unbroken broncos--horses that made the toughest +vaqueros throw down their hats, tighten their belts, and grin with fear. + +From over the hills came the half-wild cattle, stringing along at a +trot, all bearing for the open space in the waste of the chaparral where +the _rodeo_ occurred, while behind them followed the cowboys--gay desert +figures with brown, pinched faces, long hair, and shouting wild cries. +The exhilaration of the fine morning, the tramp of the thousands, got +into the curls of the three little Misses Golden-hairs, and they +scurried away, while I followed to feast on this fresh vision, where +absolutely ideal little maids shouted Spanish at murderous-looking +Mexican cow-punchers done up in bright scrapes and costumed out of all +reason. As the vaqueros dashed about hither and thither to keep their +herds moving in the appointed direction, the infants screamed in their +childish treble and spurred madly too. A bull stands at bay, but a child +dashes at him, while he turns and flees. It is not their first _rodeo,_ +one can see, but I should wish they were with mamma and the buckboard, +instead of out here in the brush, charging wild bulls, though in truth +this never were written. These bulls frequently charge men, and a +cow-pony turns like a ball off a bat, and a slippery seat in the saddle +may put you under the feet of the outraged monarch of the range. + +[Illustration: 49 THE HALF-WILD CATTLE CAME DOWN FROM THE HILLS] + +Driving down to the _rodeo-ground,_ we all stood about on our ponies and +held the herd, as it is called, the young girls doing vaquero duty, as +imperturbable of mien as Mr. Flannagan, the foreman. So many women in +the world are afraid of a dairy cow, even gathering up their skirts and +preparing to shriek at the sight of one eating daisies. But these young +women will grow up and they will be afraid of no cow. So much for a +Soledad education. + +The top-ropers rode slowly into the dust of the milling herd, scampered +madly, cast their ropes, and came jumping to us with a blatting calf +trailing at their ropes' end. Two men seized the little victim, threw +him on his back, cut a piece out of his ear with a knife, and still held +him in relentless grip while another pressed a red-hot branding-iron on +his side, which sizzled and sent up blue smoke, together with an odor of +burned flesh. The calves bawled piteously. There was no more emotion on +the faces of the Soledad girls than was shown by the brown cowboys. They +had often, very often, seen this before, and their nerves were strong. +Some day I can picture in my mind's eye these young girl vaqueros grown +to womanhood, and being such good-looking creatures, very naturally some +young man will want very badly to marry one of them--for it cannot be +otherwise. I only hope he will not be a thin-chested, cigarette-smoking +dude, because it will be a sacrilege of nature. He must undoubtedly have +played forward at Princeton or Yale, or be unworthy. + +As we stood, a massive bull emerged from the body of the herd, his head +thrown high, tail stiff with anger, eye rolling, and breath coming +quick. He trotted quickly forward, and, lowering his head, charged +through the “punchers.” Instantly a small Soledad girl was after him, +the vaqueros reining back to enjoy the strange ride with their eyes. Her +hat flew off, and the long curls flapped in the rushing air as her pony +fairly sailed over the difficult ground. The bull tore furiously, but +behind him swept the pony and the child. As we watched, the chase had +gone a mile away, but little Miss Yellowcurls drew gradually to the far +side of the bull, quartering him on the far side, and whirling on, +headed her quarry back to her audience and the herd. The rough-and-ready +American range boss sat sidewise in his saddle and thought--for he never +talked unnecessarily, though appreciation was chalked all over his pose. +The manager and madam felt as though they were responsible for this +wonderful thing. The Mexican cowboys snapped their fingers and eyes at +one another, shouting quick Spanish, while the American part of the +beholders agreed that it was the “limit”; “that as a picture,” etc.; +“that the American girl, properly environed “; “that this girl in +particular,” etc., was a dream. Then the bull and the girl came home; +the bull to his fellows, and the girl to us. But she didn't have an idea +of our admiration, because we didn't tell her; that would have been +wrong, as you can imagine. Ten years will complicate little Miss +Yellowcurls. Then she could be vain about such a thing; but, alas! she +will not be--she will have forgotten. + +THE END + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Crooked Trails, by Frederic Remington + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CROOKED TRAILS *** + +***** This file should be named 7867-0.txt or 7867-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/8/6/7867/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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