CHAPTER XLII.

LEAVE WASHAKIE'S CAMP FOR THE OTHER PORTION OF THE SHOSHONE TRIBE—INDIAN GUIDE LEAVES US—FOLLOWING A TRAIL—SIGHT THE OTHER CAMP—WAR SONGS AND DANCES—INDIANS PREPARING FOR WAR—CHIEF GIVES UP HIS LODGE TO US, WARNING US OF MEN IN HIS CAMP HE CANNOT CONTROL—INDIAN BRAVES IN WAR PAINT—SURROUNDED BY FIFTEEN HUNDRED OR TWO THOUSAND INDIANS—LEARN THAT L. B. RYAN, A WHITE DESPERADO CHIEF, IS IN CAMP, AND HAS SWORN VENGEANCE ON MORMONS—ESCAPE SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE, BUT WE TRUST IN GOD—RETIRE FOR THE NIGHT—RYAN AND SEVEN WARRIORS AT OUR LODGE—RYAN ENTERS AND DEMANDS TO KNOW WHERE WE ARE FROM, AND OUR BUSINESS—HE IS TOLD, THREATENS US, AND SUMMONS HIS INDIAN BRAVES INSIDE OUR LODGE—THOUGH THE ENEMY ARE TWO TO ONE, WE ARE READY FOR THEM—PREPARE FOR A FIGHT TO THE DEATH—RYAN AND HIS MEN LEAVE THE LODGE—WAR DANCE OUTSIDE—WE CONCLUDE TO SELL OUR LIVES AS DEARLY AS POSSIBLE—WAR PARTY APPROACH THE LODGE AND SLIT IT IN A NUMBER OF PLACES, THEN SUDDENLY DEPART—OUR LIVES BEING SPARED, WE REMAIN IN CAMP TILL NEXT DAY—THE CHIEF BEFRIENDS US, WARNING US NOT TO RETURN THE WAY WE CAME—DISPUTE AS TO THE ROUTE OF TRAVEL, AND HOW IT IS SETTLED—SATISFIED THAT RYAN INTENDED TO AMBUSH US—RAINSTORM OBLITERATES OUR TRACKS—CAMP IN THE RAIN—ON THE ALERT FOR AN ENEMY—SHOOT A BUFFALO—WARD AND DAVIS GIVE CHASE, WHILE BULLOCK AND I CONTINUE ON OUR ROUTE—CAMP AT A WASH—BULLOCK TAKEN VERY ILL—A TERRIBLE NIGHT—WARD AND DAVIS NOT RETURNING BY MORNING, WE MOVE ON—FEAR THAT BULLOCK WILL DIE—DISCOVER OUR COMRADES IN THE CANYON—BEING HUNGRY, WE OVEREAT—ANOTHER NIGHT OF SICKNESS—EMERGE FROM THE CANYON—PRESS FORWARD TO GREEN RIVER—WELCOMED BY FRIENDS—THREE OF OUR PARTY GO ONTO FORT SUPPLY, AND I REMAIN TO MEET CHIEF WASHAKIE.

THE morning after the council, Chief Washakie asked us where we were going to from his camp. We said we wished to go to White Man's Child's camp of Shoshones. Said he, "Maybe that is good, maybe not. I don't know. I hear there are bad men over there. I don't know." As there was no trail leading to that camp, we asked him to send a guide with us. He replied, "Maybe one go." Our horses having been brought up, we saddled them, and after a good friendly shake of the hand of the chief and of some of his council, we started to the southeast, with a young brave on the lead. When we had traveled about twenty miles, our guide disappeared over a ridge, but as we had come to a trail it did not matter to us so long as we could see pony tracks to follow. Still a feeling of mistrust lurked within us, as it had done all day. We discussed the matter, but could see no other way open than to press forward.

Soon we ascended a hill, from the top of which we could hear a drum, then many voices in a war song. As we rounded a little point of the hill we saw numerous lodges, and what appeared to be thousands of Indians. A large proportion of the latter were dancing and singing songs. About this time we felt a heavy feeling, and were certain that the spirit of murder was in the Indian camp. Everybody we met until we came to the chief's lodge looked as if they were going to war, judging by the expression of their eyes.

The chief came slowly out, coolly shook hands with us, ordered our stock taken care of, and a dish of boiled meat set before us. Then his family left the lodge, taking their effects, leaving only three robes for us. The sun was just setting, and the chief said we could occupy his lodge that night, as he was going away, being afraid to stop there, as there were men in camp that he could not control. Then he walked off and out of sight.

At this time three braves came by in their war paint, stepping along very lightly, and stripped and armed as if ready for a fight. They took a sharp glance at us, then passed on up the creek, to where the singing and dancing were going on. Then war whoops rent the air, and we were alone around the campfire.

There we were, surrounded by three hundred Indian lodges, and between fifteen hundred and two thousand Indians, principally Shoshones, though there were Cheyennes and Arapahoes mixed with them, for trading purposes, we supposed. It was dark, our horses had been taken away, we knew not where, and we were between four and five hundred miles from any source of protection, so far as we knew. The chief had confessed his inability to control some men in his camp, and had acknowledged that he was afraid to stop in his own lodge, he and his family seeking safer quarters. We were also without food, and the shadow of death seemed to hover over and close around us, while the war song and dance were heard plainly. We had also learned that L. B. Ryan, successor to Samuel Callwell as chief of the organized band of desperadoes, was at that time beating up and organizing a war party to carry on his nefarious work of robbery, and that he had sworn vengeance on the first Mormons that he met. We believed that he was the uncontrollable power that the chief had referred to.

Under these circumstances, it was a grave question as to what we could do for the best. Escape by flight was impossible, and as for attempting to fight three hundred to one, that was folly. Then what should we do? Put our trust in God, and go to bed, and if we were killed we wouldn't have to fall. This was our conclusion, so we attended prayers, and retired about 8 o'clock.

Soon the drum and some kind of whistle were heard drawing closer to us. In a few minutes our outdoor fire was surrounded by L. B. Ryan and seven young warriors, all well armed with Colt's revolvers. The Indians had bows and arrows in hand, ready for action. Their paleface companion undoubtedly was the leader.

After a brief pause, Ryan came into the lodge and squatted down just opposite to where Bullock and I lay. He picked up a stick of wood, and with a cutlass chipped off pieces and stirred up the coals, starting a bright light. Then he said. "Gentlemen, where do you hail from, and what is your business here?"

Mr. Bullock being spokesman, informed him that we were from Utah, and our business in part was to get acquainted with the Indians, to ascertain the openings for trade, and to look out the resources of the country.

Ryan continued, "Gentlemen, if you have got any papers for me, bring them out. I have been robbed by the Mormons of my bottom dollar, and by the eternal gods I am going to have revenge."

He then smote the billet of wood a heavy blow, at which signal the seven braves filed into the lodge, and squatted in order, with bows tightly corded, and arrows in hand. Ward, Davis, and I, were fully prepared to meet the attack as best we could. Bullock having the talking to do, was not so well prepared, until I rubbed his ribs with my bowie knife handle, when he got ready as quickly as possible. There were eight against four, all inside of one Indian lodge, watching for the signal from Ryan, and we would have acted promptly on his signal, or that of one of his braves, and without doubt would have got our share of the game, in exchanging lead for arrows. It is possible that Ryan took the same view, for he suddenly rose up and walked out, the warriors following him. They closed the lodge door behind them, thus giving us the opportunity to consult, while they held their council and danced around the fire and sang.

We hastily concluded that if they entered again it would be to massacre our party, and that if they began to come in we would fire on them the moment they opened the deerskin door. I, being in the most convenient position, was to give the first shot, presuming that Ryan would be in the lead, and we would be sure to dispose of him in that way. Meanwhile, all the rest would fire into the war party, whose shadows could be seen through the lodge, as they were between it and a big outdoor fire. The next move on our part was for Davis, who lay most convenient to the back part of the lodge, to make with his knife as large an opening as possible in the lodge, that we might escape through it into the creek that passed near by, the banks of which were only six or eight feet high. Our decision was that the moment we left the lodge every man was to try and if possible make his escape, no matter what the conditions might be, so that if either one of us could get away, and tell where he last saw the rest, it might be some satisfaction to our friends and relatives. Then each man took the most easy position to act his part, made ready his firelock, and held it with finger on the trigger.

Just then the party outside came around in their dance circle, straight for the lodge door, Ryan in the lead. They sang and danced right up to the door, but did not lift it. Next they circled around the lodge, and with their scalping knives, or some other sharp instruments, slit the lodge in a number of places. Then, as they came around to the front, they gave a war whoop, and passed up the creek in the direction whence they came. Thus we still lived, and were spared the awful necessity of shedding man's blood, even in self-defense, thanks be to God for His protection and mercies. Still the clouds hung so low, and so thickly around, that we could not feel safe in an attempt to leave camp.

Next morning the chief sent us some boiled buffalo beef, and called and talked a few moments. He impressed us with the fact that the danger was not yet over, and that we were safer in his lodge and camp than we would be out of it, so we contented ourselves as best we could by loitering around, while the drum and the whistling reeds of the war party, and the wild shouts, continued all day. At last night came, and we turned in, as we had done the evening before, with all our clothes, arms and boots on.

A WAR PARTY OF SHOSHONES DANCING AROUND THEIR PRISONERS WHILE IN THE CHIEF'S LODGE

A WAR PARTY OF SHOSHONES DANCING AROUND THEIR PRISONERS WHILE IN THE CHIEF'S LODGE

Nothing occurred that night to mar our peace, but the ever threatening din of the drum and the savage yell of the red man. Again the morning light broke over us, and our scalps were still in place, but the very elements seemed to say, "Stay in camp." The Spirit whispered to every one of us the same thing. We were a unit, and therefore lingered in the place, closely watching every move.

Finally the chief came, and our horses were brought. This was at about 1 o'clock p.m. Then, as plainly as ever we saw the clouds in the firmament break and scatter, we felt the clouds of death begin to part. We waited no longer; our horses were saddled, packs were put in place, and the chief gave us a slight indication, letting us understand that it was a good time to move. At that moment Ryan and his allies came up, apparently changed in their behavior. Ryan inquired of us by what route we intended to return. Mr. Bullock said we expected to go to Washakie's camp, and thence back by the same route we had come on. Immediately the chief stepped away into the brush, we mounted, and saying good-bye, started down the creek.

A few moments later, as we rounded a bend, the chief popped out of the brush just in front of and so as to meet us. Without seeming to notice us in the least, he said, "Do not go the way you said you would, for there are men in my camp that I cannot control." Brother Bullock did not catch the idea, but the other three of us did. We understood his action as well as his words. Soon we came to where we had got to decide which course we would take. Brother Bullock was determined to keep his word, and go by the route that he had told Ryan he would do, but the three others were a unit in insisting on taking another way. We told him we understood perfectly the chief, that if we went by that route we would be ambushed, and every soul of us would be killed. Still Brother Bullock insisted on keeping his word with the Indians; and more, he had promised Washakie that he would return by his camp. Then Ward and Davis came straight out and said they knew that meant death, and they would not follow on that trail; so they started off another way.

At this juncture I said: "Brother Bullock, I never deserted my file-leader in my life, and I will not do it now. I will follow you to the death, for I am certain that path leads there, and if you persist in going that way I will follow, and will claim my blood at your hands, for the others, the three of us, see alike." Then Ward and Davis turned and said that on the same conditions as those I had named they would go with Brother Bullock; but the latter said the price was too great, and he would go with us, but he very much regretted breaking his word with the red man.

Every minute was precious at that time. We were well satisfied that Ryan would not shrink to do from ambush what he had hesitated to do in the chief's lodge, and that if he could strike our trail he would do it to the death; so we made the best speed consistent with the conditions surrounding us.

As we were passing up the long slope of the mountain, and while yet almost in sight of the camp, a small, dense, black cloud arose in the south. It passed in our rear and over the Indian camp, and torrents of rain seemed to fall there, while we were caught only in the storm's edge. Thus our tracks were completely obliterated. Soon we came into a trail leading along our way, and followed it to quite a bold running creek. As the rain had ceased where we were, to further elude our enemies we followed up in the bed of the creek until we came to a rocky ridge which led us up among the cliffs, where it would be difficult for any one to follow us and make much headway. While there among the rocks, Ward and Davis saw an old mountain sheep, which they pursued and captured, but he fell in a place so difficult of access, and night coming on, that it was impossible to get but a small portion of him. Bullock and I kept on our course, and were overtaken by our companions just at dark.

We pushed on as quickly as possible, for the rain was coming on in torrents. At last the night became so densely dark that we could only keep together by the noise of our camp equipage, and by talking. It was impossible to see where we were going, so we camped in a sag. It rained so hard that it was with much work that we started a fire, and then it was quite as difficult to keep it going till we could frizzle a morsel of the old ram; so each bolted his rations half raw, and having hobbled our animals securely, we rolled ourselves in half-wet blankets and laid down or the ground, which already had been soaked to the consistency of mud, and we wallowed there until next morning. Then two of us brought up and saddled horses, while the other two frizzled a little more of the ram, which was bolted, as before, for it was too tough to chew in a way anything like satisfactory. We then wrung our blankets, for they were full of water, as in the place where we had laid down the water was half shoetop deep.

By sunrise we were mounted, feeling satisfied that our track of the day before had been covered up, and thirty miles of our flight was behind us. The country was high and barren, but we avoided conspicuous points, and traveled the most secluded way, ever on the alert to catch the first sight of an enemy, or of any kind of game, for our portion of flesh of the ram of the Rockies had disappeared.

In the after part of the day the sun shone. This was while we were crossing the head of an open flat, in a dry country, with a dry gully coursing down through it. This gully was fringed with an abundant growth of sagebrush, and as we looked down the flat we saw some animals coming out from a bend in the gully. We ascertained to our delight that there were seven buffaloes. Our decision was to spare no efforts in an endeavor to secure one of the animals, for this was a rare chance, as the Indians had hunted every bit of game that it was possible for them to do in that part of the country.

To accomplish our most desirable object at this particular time, Ward, Davis and I secured our horses, leaving Bullock to guard them and the pack mules. The three of us made our way down the gulch, and as the wind came to us from the buffaloes, there was no danger of them scenting us. Thus we secured an excellent position, and waiting a few minutes for them to feed to within about sixty yards of us, we decided on the one that had the sleekest coat, thinking he would be the best beef; for all were very poor old bulls, and we did not wish to injure more than we needed to keep us from starvation. We all took deliberate aim, and three rifles rang out as one. The only result visible to us was that the game wheeled, and ran directly on the back track, leaving us without even a hope of buffalo meat until we followed on their trail seventy or eighty rods. There we found where one animal had cast his cud, and later we saw some blood splattered about. All felt sure we had hit the buffalo, for each knew how his rifle shot, and said he never drew a nicer bead on an animal in his life. Then Ward and Davis got their horses and gave chase, as the game had run almost parallel with our route toward the notch in the mountains for which we were aiming.

Bullock and I kept on the course our party had marked out to travel, but before we reached the mountain pass we were heading for, night and rain came on, and we had to camp in an open greasewood plain. Coming to a very deep wash that had good feed in it, we concluded to hobble our animals in the wash. It was difficult to get our stock in, as the banks were very steep, but at last we succeeded in getting them down, and felt that they were tolerably safe for the night, with some watching. We gathered a little greasewood, for there was no other fuel, and tried to get a tire started in the rain and darkness.

During this time, Bullock began to have cramps, in the stomach and bowels, and then in his limbs, and soon he was taken with a heavy chill. It seemed that he would die, in spite of all that I could do for him. I rubbed him, prayed for him, and put him in a pack of wet blankets, for we had no other, and were without any earthly comfort for such an emergency. At last I caught some rain in the frying-pan, then got hold of our cracker sack, in which was about two tablespoonfuls of crumbs and dust that had rubbed off the crackers. I heated the water, put the crumbs in, and brought the mixture to a boil, stirring it so that it appeared something like gruel, and gave it to the sick man, who became easier. Then I went out, feeling my way, to see what had become of our stock, and got so far off in the darkness that I had great difficulty in finding my way back to my sick companion, but after much anxiety and bother I found him suffering intensely. I set to work rubbing him and encouraging him the best I could. I spent the entire night in attending to him and watching the stock.

Morning came, and still the hunters were unheard of. At one time I almost despaired of the sick man's life, and thought, if he died, what could I do with him, so far away from help. I could not take him home, neither could I put him out of reach of wild beasts, for I had no spade, pickaxe or shovel; nor was there timber in sight to cremate him. I had not a mouthful of food, and what had become of our partners, Ward and Davis, I could not tell. Then came the reaction of the spirit, and the thought that I must do the best that I could. It would not do to despair. I must pray for the patient, pack up, and get out of that place.

The patient seemed to rally with the dawn of day, and by sunrise we were on our way, and entered the canyon we had been heading for. We saw no signs of our friends until we reached their camp in the canyon, for it had rained so heavily as to obliterate the horse tracks. As they had gone on, we were not quite sure that it was their camp and tracks, and the canyon afforded excellent opportunity for ambush. But we were there and must go through. The sick man held up with wonderful fortitude, though suffering greatly. About 2 p.m. we sighted our comrades, the buffalo hunters. They mistook us for enemies and fled, until they found a convenient place to hide themselves and horses, and where they watched until they saw the gleaming of the sunlight upon our rifle barrels. Then they recognized us, and as we came up we had a warm greeting.

Being together once more we hid our animals among the cedars, and selected our camp with care, as it was night. Our hunters had been successful, after a chase of ten miles, in getting the buffalo; they had a hard and hazardous fight with the wounded animal, and it took them till after dark before they could get what buffalo meat they could carry on their horses. They also had a very severe night of it; but the lost were found, and with plenty of buffalo meat in camp we were thankful.

We broiled and ate, boiled and ate and ate raw liver, and marrow out of the bones; for be known that men in the condition we were, with severe hunger, do not always realize how much they have eaten until they eat too much. So it was with us. When we were through with the meal, we prepared to "jerk" the remainder of the beef, but before that was done my three companions were attacked with vomiting and purging; then followed chills and cramps, and for about four or five hours it seemed they might all die. I could not say which would go first, and the previous night's experience was reiterated. I confess that I had been guilty of as much folly and unreason as they, but being more robust than the others, I could endure more than they; but I had the very same kind of an attack as they did, before the journey was over.

When morning came, a sicker and a harder looking lot of men seldom is seen in the mountains. Yet we must travel, so passed through that canyon out onto an open plain, leaving the creek to the south of us. In the afternoon we came to a smooth clay grade, on which were fresh horse and moccasin tracks, and four large capital letters, in English; I think they were N, W, H and E. We concluded they had been marked out with a sharp stick, but not in a manner intelligible to us, so we were suspicious and cautiously pushed on to a place of shelter and rest.

It was on the 1st day of June that we reached the Middle Ferry on Green River, Green River County, Utah. There we met with W. I. Appleby, probate judge, Hosea Stout, prosecuting attorney, William Hickman, sheriff, Captain Hawley, the ferryman, and his family and some others. They did not have to be told what we most needed, but supplied with liberal hand our necessities, for all were aware that the object of our mission had been to protect just such as they, and the innocent immigrants, and their property, from not only the raids of the red men, but also from the more wicked and baser white brigands.

We rested at Green River until the 4th of June, when my fellow missionaries left for Fort Supply. I remained as interpreter, and to fill our appointment with Chief Washakie, who was to be at the ferry by July 15.