Chapter VII.
Retrospect – The Wind Storm – Reconnoitering – The Last Buffalo – An Indian Spy – Pilgrim Whisky – Sales to Indians – The Local Population – The Iron-gray Horse – Cantonment McKean – Fort McPherson – The Cannon Target – Description of Cannon – Arrival at Fort of a New Company – The Supplies – Prices of Articles – The Government Ration
GOING back in a retrospective way over our proceedings at Cottonwood Springs (concerning matters which I did not wish to break the thread of my relation to give), I will recur to a wind-storm that came on October 17th. The air was dry and arid, and a sudden wind came up in the forenoon from the north, unaccompanied by dampness or snow. The wind just blew, and kept increasing in force and momentum. All of our tents were blown down during the afternoon, and during the gale it was impossible to raise them. Our stuff was blown off from the flat ground and rolled and tumbled over until it struck the depression of the arroyo of Cottonwood Canyon. It was a straight, even wind. We soon found out what it was necessary for us to build in order to resist the climate. The pilgrim quarters at MacDonald's ranch was soon stored with what we were obliged to
save. Incredible as it may seem, the wind blew down the stovepipe into the stove, so that it turned one of the covers over to get exit. This heavy iron cover was about seven inches in diameter. When we put it back the stove rattled until again the cover turned over. Jimmy O'Brien said it was an "Irish tornado," – that the wind blew "straight up and down." Along in the afternoon, our horses that were tied up with picket-rope became frantic, and began breaking away. A two-inch rope was torn from its moorings and the horses started up Cottonwood Ca nyon. There were less than a dozen horses that were left securely tied. These were immediately saddled, and soldiers detailed to corral the stampeded horses, and to keep them together in the canyon. By using iron picket-pins and lariat-ropes, some few of the tents were got up again, toward night, and held in place. The wind blew a gale all night, and got somewhat chilly. Boxes of clothing and hard-bread were rolling over the prairie, bound for the arroyo. We all of us slept where we best could, but most upon the lee bank of the canyon-bed. The wind immediately subsided as the sun rose in the morning, and we had no more trouble with it except to gather up the things. The difficulty with the wind was that it carried the sand and gravel in the air, and made it painful and almost dangerous at times to be where the full effect of the current came, which was mixed with the sand and gravel. The latter seemed to come in streaks. A herder of the ranch told a funny story about a window which was exposed to one of these sand-and-gravel storms, and he said that it had been changed into the appearance of ground glass, and had been rendered almost opaque. But he made light of the storm, saying that he had seen much worse ones. Afterwards we did experience one equally as bad, if not worse, while going from Lodgepole northwest to Court House Rock. Sand and gravel banked up against the pilgrim quarters in places about two feet high above the level, as the consequence of this storm. We kept the horses herded up in the canyon until the storm was over, and did not lose any.
About two weeks after that we were told that some prowling Indians bad been seen in south of Gilmans' ranch, headed towards our place, and Captain O'Brien thought I bad better reconnoiter a little up the canyon, so as to forestall any surprise. Instead of taking a party of men with me, I thought I would prefer to go alone, as I had a most excellent horse, which I will hereinafter describe. I rode up on the east rim of the canyon, and looked over the country with my field-glass pretty fully. By keeping up on the rim, I could see the canyon inside and out. I went around about ten miles, and saw a lot of fresh pony-tracks. I also saw a large lone buffalo down in the canyon. I rode past it to see whether or not there was any Indian looking for him, and making up my mind there was not, I went down into the canyon to get the buffalo. I only had two Colt's calibre.44 revolvers in my holster. I carried neither saber nor carbine. The time that I had with that buffalo in the canyon I shall not soon forget. He chased me a great deal more than I chased him. The matted hair upon his forehead was filled with mud, and he faced me at all times. My revolver bullets glanced off from his forehead apparently as if it were a piece of granite, and they only seemed to irritate him. It was fully two hours before I laid him out, and I had fired thirty-one shots.
About a week after that, Captain O'Brien desired to make a further reconnaissance, in view of reports which came in. I got well acquainted with the ins and outs on the east side, and the shortest and best routes from one crossing to another, which were deeply worn by buffalo trails. And here I got my first idea of the extent to which game and wild animals make the shortest and best roads through a country, and the most accessible roads, which in after time are followed by the white man, and become the highways from place to place. On this occasion I carried my target rifle (a Smith amp; Wesson, calibre.44) and a field-glass. When about eight miles from the camp, I saw in the distance a bareheaded Indian going over a ridge on foot with great speed. I hastened to catch up with him, but when I got to the ridge where he disappeared, I considered that it would be safer for me to be careful lest I should fall into some kind of ambuscade. So I rode around on the high ground, and examined the gullies for about a mile, but the Indian had successfully eluded me, and I was in no condition to go down and hunt through the canyon. He was probably some lone Indian who was acting as a spy, or reconnoitering. An Indian on a pony could be easily tracked, but an Indian on foot could slip around and secrete himself, and be quite safe. There were always down in the valley along the road some halfbreed Indian traders who also acted as spies, and would communicate all necessary information to the Indians and sell them what was called "Pilgrim whisky"; hence the Indians, as we were informed, reconnoitered on foot, and it was one of these I had probably seen.
The pilgrim whisky of that day was a bad compound. Owing to the distance which it had to be carried, alcohol was substituted for whisky, and when a person out in that country got a barrel of alcohol, he would take a quart of it and mix it with a quart of water, and stir in molasses and a touch of red pepper, and it made a compound that would bring out all the bad qualities of the consumer. This was the kind of whisky that the Indians would get from traders. They dealt surreptitiously, because it was a penitentiary offense to sell whisky to the Indians. The ranchmen fought the contraband fiercely, and there were stories of herders and ranchmen taking some half-breed and lynching him when they had found that he had sold that kind of stuff to the Indians.
By the first of December we had got pretty well acquainted with our surroundings. Captain O'Brien with four men went out to reconnoiter the canyon fully, and he took the west bank. He went nearly to the end of the canyon, and explored it fully, and then going west came down back through another large cedar-filled canyon. I afterwards, in about a week, also made the reconnaissance of the canyon from the west bank about ten miles of distance, and at a certain place where there was a wall of indurated clay I carved name, date, Company, and Regiment. It was necessary for us as officers of the company to know the country, and to familiarize ourselves with Indian matters. Ten miles west of our post was Jack Morrow's ranch, of which I will speak hereafter. Between it and our post there were several ranches that had been deserted, on account of the Indian scare, but which were reoccupied after our arrival. In fact, as soon as we camped at Cottonwood Springs, the safety of the place being assured, many people seemed inclined to take up land, or to accept employment in the neighborhood. On the first of December, on the suggestion of Captain O'Brien, I tabulated all the civilians fit for military duty within twenty-five miles between Gilmans' ranch and Jack Morrow's, and found that there were nearly one hundred and fifty men. They were frontiersmen as a rule, all well armed, and more or less engaged in the "pilgrim trade," some in cattle, and some in hunting and trapping. The largest number was probably at Gilmans' ranch. The Gilmans had two hundred cows, but never milked one. The ranch had a number of herders. There were herds along the river at various other ranches, attached to which were herders of various kinds; some full-blood French of the Canadian variety, and some adventurous spirits from the East who, in addition to their work at the ranches, made considerable by hunting and trapping. All of the ranches sold steel traps of various sizes, from muskrat up to bear. The population had increased principally during our occupation. There were down at Gilmans' ranch, besides the Gilmans themselves, several who were very wise in Indian lore, and with whom we often desired to talk. From time to time we felt obliged to know things, and to go to Gilmans' ranch for the purpose of having consultation. The fifteen miles down to the ranch was over a country as level as a floor, beaten down hard and swept by the wind. It took an hour and a half to go there; so we could leave at two o'clock and get back at seven, and have two hours' consultation. From them we obtained information, and drew rough maps and diagrams of the country both north and south. They told us where the bunches of timber were, both north and south, and where the water was among the valleys in the hills, and the routes which the Indians used.