Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains / An Authentic Record of a Life Time of Hunting, Trapping, Scouting and Indian Fighting in the Far West

by William F. Drannan

CHAPTER XXII.

A TRIP TO FORT KEARNEY—THE GENERAL ENDORSES US AND WE PILOT AN EMIGRANT TRAIN TO CALIFORNIA.—WOMAN WHO THOUGHT I WAS "NO GENTLEMAN."—A CAMP DANCE.

Jim Bridger proposed that he and I make a trip to Fort Kearney together, and remain there until the emigrants began to come along, thinking that perhaps the Sioux would be so bad on the plains again that summer that we might get a layout scouting for trains going to California. Both of us were well acquainted with a greater part of the country to be traveled over, and there were few other men as well posted as to where the Indians were likely to make attacks, which was one of the most essential requirements in scouting with a train.

About the first of April we started, by the way of Denver City, for Fort Kearney, and as it had been nearly a year since we had seen the first named place we found quite a change there. Instead of a tented town, of shreds and patches, we saw a thriving village that had some quite comfortable wooden houses and an air of distinct civilization. To-day Denver is probably the best built city of its size in the world, but there was a time after this present visit of mine and Bridger's when the place became almost deserted. That was when the Union Pacific railroad was being constructed to Cheyenne, leaving Denver one hundred and eight miles due south. Then, all the people in Denver who could raise any sort of a team, took their household goods and gods, and in some cases the houses, and struck out for Cheyenne. Many who were too poor to get away became enormously rich, afterward, from that very fact, for they became possessed of the ground, and when the Kansas Pacific railroad was projected, and afterward constructed, Denver took on such a boom that real estate nearly went out of sight in value. The poor ones became wealthy, and nearly all of the Cheyenne stampeders returned. Following this, some years afterward, the discovery of silver carbonates in California Gulch, where Leadville now stands, gave Denver another boom that made the place the Queen city of the Plains, for good and all.

We reached Fort Kearney before the emigrants had got that far out, and found Gen. Kearney in command. He was glad to see us, and told us that if we needed any references to send the parties to him and he would give us a send-off that would be likely to fix us all right, and we knew that it would.

"I predict more trouble," said he, "on the plains this summer than there ever has been in any season previous to this, from the fact that the northern Sioux are, even at this early date, breaking up into little bands, and no doubt for the express purpose of capturing small bands of emigrants crossing the plains the coming summer."

The first train that came along was from Illinois and Missouri. It was on the way to California and was composed of sixty-four wagons. The company was made up of men, women and children, nearly all of the men having families. They camped about a mile from the fort, and at near sundown Gen. Kearney proposed that we go over and see the ladies. So we rode over—the General, Jim Bridger and I.

Arriving at the camp we were astonished at seeing that the emigrants had no system whatever in forming their camp or corralling their wagons and stock, all being scattered here and there, hodge-podge.

I remarked to Gen. Kearney that they had certainly not met with any trouble from Indians so far, else they would have been more careful. The General replied that they would learn before they got much further.

When we arrived at their camp quite a crowd gathered around us, and among the balance was one man apparently forty years old, who walked up to Gen. Kearney and said: "How are you, John?" that being the General's first name.

Gen. Kearney looked at him for a moment, then shook hands with him and said: "You seem to know me, but you have the best of me. If I ever saw you before I don't remember when or where."

The gentleman then said: "When we used to go to school together you were the only boy in my class that I could not throw down, but I believe that I could to-day."

They had been schoolmates in Ohio and this was the first time they had met since they quit school. "Of course," said Gen. Kearney, "you had the advantage of me, for you knew I was out here, while I never dreamed of you being in this country."

We soon learned that the emigrants had heard about the hostility of the Sioux Indians, and were dreading them very much.

After the General and his old schoolmate talked over by-gone days for awhile they commenced asking him all sorts of questions relative to the Indians on ahead.

The General gave his views regarding the outlook for the coming summer, and after having "said his say" about the noble red men, a number of the emigrants thought they would turn back the next morning.

Gen. Kearney said to them: "Here are two as good mountaineers as may be found west of the Missouri river and I believe that you could hire them to go the entire trip with you at a reasonable figure, and I feel sure they will be able to render you valuable service, while passing through the Indian country, they being well posted as to where the Indians would be most likely to make an attack. They are also well informed as to water, wood and grass, and the different drives to be made between camping places, &c."

When we were just ready to mount our horses to return to the Fort for supper, a number of the men came to Jim and me and asked how much per month or per day we would take to go with them as scouts through the Indian country. We told them to get their supper over and call their men together, and we would go back to the Fort and get our supper, after which we would come down to their camp again and talk matters over and see if we could make a bargain. By this time a number of ladies had gathered around, and among them was an old lady who said: "You two gentlemen with buckskin coats on can come and take supper with us in our tent."

Gen. Kearney said: "You had better accept the lady's hospitality, for you have a great deal to talk about."

We thought this a capital idea and took supper with the emigrants, and the General returned to his quarters But before going he gave all, both ladies and gentlemen, a cordial invitation to come to the Fort the next day and pay him a friendly visit.

After all were through eating supper, Jim Bridger asked how many men they had in their train, but no one was able to tell. When he asked who their captain was a man replied that they did not know they had to have a captain. Jim with an oath said: "What in the name of God do you think those soldiers over there would do without a captain, or at least an officer of some kind?"

Then he told them they had better form in line and see how many men they had, and elect five men to transact business with us. They formed in line and counted and there were one hundred and forty men in the train, and not one of them had ever been on the plains before, and, of course, not one of them had ever seen a hostile Indian.

They then proceeded to elect the five men to transact the business with us, after which Jim turned to me and said: "Now make your proposition." I suggested that as he was the oldest, he should go ahead and make the bargain, whereupon he said: "All right. Gentlemen, I will make you an offer; if you see fit to accept it all right, and if not there is no harm done. We will scout for you for six dollars per day from here to the foot of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and you board us and herd our horses with yours. We must have charge of the entire train, and we want at least two or three days in which to organize and drill before leaving this camp, and after the lapse of five days if this community is not satisfied with our work, we will quit, and not charge you a cent for what we shall have done at that time, and if our work is satisfactory we will expect our money every Saturday night, for it is the money we are after and not the glory. Now, gentlemen, take the matter under consideration and give us an answer to-morrow morning after breakfast."

On the following morning one of the men from the train came to the Fort very early to inform us that they had decided to accept our proposition.

We told him to go back to camp and have all the teams hitched up and we would be down after breakfast and put in a few hours drilling the teamsters.

We numbered the wagons by putting the figures on the end-gates of the wagons, telling each teamster to remember his number, and when forming a corrall, no matter what the occasion might be, for the even numbers to turn to the right and the odd numbers to the left, forming a circle with the teams inside of the corrall or circle of wagons.

For the benefit of the reader who has not had the fortune—or misfortune, whichever he deems it—to have traveled in an Indian country where the corrals are necessary in order to protect the traveler from the Indians, I will give a more detailed description of how they are formed:

By having each wagon numbered every man knew his place in the train, and when it was necessary to corral, one-half of the teams would turn to the right and the other half to the left. Each would swing out a little distance from the road and the two front teams- -numbers one and two—would drive up facing each other. All the rest of the wagons would drive up forming a circle, with the teams on the inside of the corrall, and the back or hind ends of the wagons pointing outwards. The two hindmost teams would now swing together as in the front, closing the rear gap in the circle. This also served the purpose of a pen in which to run the stock in the event of an attack, thus preventing the possibility of a stampede.

Our object in drilling the teamsters was to teach them how to form a corrall quickly in case of an attack while under way.

After drilling a while we told the committee to select eight men from their train to assist in scouting, we preferring young men with horses of their own or such as could get horses, and those men to be exempt from guard duty except in cases of emergency. They proceeded at once to select the eight men for assistant scouts, after which we told them to appoint a sergeant, or whatever they chose to call him, to command, respectively, every platoon of twenty men, the hundred and forty being organized in such squads.

This was the hardest task, apparently, for the committee, as no one wanted to serve in that capacity, each one having some excuse or other, but they finally completed the appointments and then Jim said to me:

"Now, Will, you take entire charge of the scouts, and I will take charge of the balance of the men," telling me that in the day time on the move he would assist me in scouting all he could, but after the train was corralled to handle the scouts to suit myself.

I told the newly appointed scouts to saddle their horses and we would have a little exercise. I took a piece of pine board box cover, sharpened it and stuck it into a prairie dog hole. This board was about twelve inches wide and two or two and a half feet long. I drew a mark about thirty feet from the board, telling them to fire when they reached this mark. I had them all mount and start about a hundred yards from the board, and when at this mark to fire at the board while at full speed, each taking his turn.

Out of eight shots only one hit the board, and that was made by the last one that fired.

I told them that such shooting would never do at all if they expected to fight Indians, so I mounted my horse and asked them which hand I should use my pistol in. All cried out: "Use your left hand!" I said: "All right, I will shoot across my bridle reins." I had one of the boys get on his horse and whip mine down to a dead run, and with my pistol in my left hand I put two bullet holes through the board while passing it.

This was a surprise to all of them, as they had never seen shooting done that way before, but they were all eager to learn.

After practicing this feat awhile I started in to teach them to mount quick. This was the hardest thing for them to learn, and all of their horses were trained to stand perfectly still until they straightened up in the saddle.

And here I will say that in scouting it is very essential to have a horse that is quick to start.

The way we used to train our horses to start was by having some one stand behind them with a whip and strike them just as we jumped into the saddle. This taught both horse and rider to be very agile, as we would have to get on our horses almost on the dead run when in close quarters with the Indians.

That evening near sunset another train drove up from Missouri. There were twenty wagons and they were desirous of joining our train. The committee came to us to see what they thought of letting them in. We told the committee that we were willing to take them in by their paying one dollar a day. This being agreeable to the committee and newcomers agreeing to pay the per diem we took them in.

The morning of the third day, after organizing we pulled out, Jim Bridger staying with the train all day. I dropped four of my men behind the train, telling them to keep about half a mile from it and at the first sight of Indians to get to the train as quick as possible and report to Jim Bridger, who would signal me at once by firing two shots in quick succession, otherwise there was to be no shooting in the train during the time we were in a hostile country.

All went smoothly until the fifth day. We were then on the north side of the South Platte and my new assistant scouts were beginning by this time—or at least some of them were—to be anxious for a little sport with the Indians.

I had told them the day before that they might expect to see
Indians at any time now, as we were then in the Sioux country.

The morning of the fifth day I started two scouts ahead of the train, telling them to keep about two miles ahead of the wagons, two to drop behind the train and two south, and to keep on the highest ground they could find. Taking the other two with me I struck out north of the road, this being where I most expected to find Indians. After riding five or six miles we came up on to a high point where I took out my glasses and made a survey of the surrounding country. I saw a large band of Indians traveling almost parallel with the wagon road and moving in the same direction the train was going. I should judge them to have been about ten miles away. Anyway, they were so far that I could not tell their number, but I thought there were in the neighborhood of one hundred and fifty in the band.

I showed them to my associates by allowing them to look through my glasses. I then showed them a route to take and designated a certain point for them to go to and remain, until I should come to them, and I started alone after the Indians to try to get closer to them and also get their general course of travel so as to come to some conclusion as to what their intentions were. I succeeded in getting within about four miles of them and at getting a good view of them as they were passing over a little ridge. I saw that they had no squaws with them, and I knew then they were on the war-path.

After taking a good look at the redskins I got back to my two scouts as quickly as possible. Shortly after joining them I saw nine Indians coming toward the road, about three or four miles away from us, we being between them and the road, making them about eight miles from the road.

I started one of my men to the train on a double quick to inform Jim Bridger of what we had seen and also to bring at least four or five good men and horses back with him, telling him where to meet us on his return.

I was thoroughly convinced that these nine Indians we had seen were scouts for the large band ahead of us, and my object was to capture them and not let one of them get back to the big band of warriors that we had seen.

The other scout and I secreted our horses and watched the nine Indians on the sly, until the other man returned bringing three men with him from the train. By this time the Indians were within two miles of the train, and we had swung around so as to come in behind them and were only about a half mile from them. We followed them leisurely until they were passing over a little ridge near the train, when we put spurs to our horses and rode at a lively gait. I told my men to save their ammunition until they were near them and take good aim so that every man would get his Indian the first shot, and to not get excited or scared, for if all would keep cool we would be able to get all of them without much trouble.

It so happened that just as we came on to the ridge that the Indians had passed over a few minutes before, they came in sight of the train, which was then not more than half a mile away. They stopped and were looking at the train.

Jim Bridger's quick eye had caught sight of them, and not knowing but it was the big band coming, he had the wagons corralled to prepare for an attack.

When we came to the top of the ridge mentioned we were not more than three hundred yards away from them and I immediately ordered a charge.

I was on Pinto, and he knowing what was up, was ready for a chase.
In fact, I could not have held him had I been so disposed.

The warriors were so engrossed looking at the train, no doubt thinking what a picnic they would have with them, that they did not see us until I was almost ready to fire. I was somewhat in advance of the rest, my horse being the fleeter, and when within about a hundred yards I raised in my stirrups, brought my rifle to my shoulder and fired, killing one Indian, and the boys claimed that I killed a horse from under another one at the same time. They were sure the same bullet killed both, for both fell at the crack of my rifle.

As soon as I had fired I drew my pistol and told them to do likewise, also telling them to be sure and make every shot count.

If ever I saw a horse that enjoyed that kind of sport—if I might call it such—it was old Pinto.

The Indians made an effort to turn to the north, but I was on the left of my men and my horse was fleet enough to head them off. I crowded them so close that they headed straight for the train; in fact, I think they were so scared that they did not know where they were going.

At the first fire with our pistols three of the Indians fell, leaving four yet mounted and one on foot—the one whose horse I had shot at the first fire. I saw the Indian on foot making for some sage brush near by and sang out to a man named Saunders, who was on a fine grey horse, to run that Indian down, which he did, killing him the second shot, so he said afterwards.

About this time I saw Jim coming, with six or eight men following him closely. Then we all commenced yelling at the top of our voices, which excited the Indians still more. Whether they saw our men coming or not I do not know, but two of them ran almost right up to them and were shot down at a distance of thirty or forty yards.

We succeeded in getting the other two, not letting one escape to tell the tale; thereby accomplishing just what I started to do when I first got sight of them.

After the last Indian had fallen, I rode to where Jim was and told him of the big band of Indians I had seen that day, and suggested that we had better go to Barrel Springs that night, which was about four miles further on, as I thought that the best place to be in camp in case we were attacked by the Indians. In this he agreed with me.

By this time my men were all on the battle-field, and most of the men from the train, also a number of the women who had come out to see the dead Indians. I asked one of the boys to go with me to scalp the Indians, after which I would go to the train as I wanted to change horses, but none of them knew how to scalp an Indian, so Jim and I had to teach them how.

One old man, who was looking on, said: "I would not mind shooting an Indian, but I would not like to scalp one of them."

After scalping the nine Indians we rode to the train and showed the scalps to the women. One young lady said to me:

"I always took you to be a gentleman until now."

I said: "Miss, I claim to be only a plain plains gentleman, but that at any and all times."

She said: "I don't think a gentleman could be so barbarous as you are."

"My dear lady," I replied, "the taking of these scalps may be the means of saving the train," and then I explained why we always scalped the Indians when we killed them. I told her that the Indians did not fear death, but hated the idea of being scalped.

About this time Jim Bridger came up and gave a more through explanation of the scalping business, and I did not hear anything more of it at that time. But Jim often teased the young lady spoken of, who had a lovely head of hair, by remarking what a fine scalp it would make for the Indians.

I changed saddle horses and then myself and two assistants rode out north to watch the movements of the main band of Indians.

Before starting out Jim gave us the password of the pickets, which was "Buffalo."

We rode until near sunset before we got sight of the big band of
Indians again, they having gone into camp about four miles west of
Barrel Springs, where our train was camped, and only about a half
mile from the trail or wagon road.

I crawled up as near their camp as I dared to go, and watched them until about nine o'clock that night, at which time a number of them had turned in, apparently for the night, and a number were around their horses all the time, giving us no opportunity whatever, to stampede them, which was my intention, provided they gave us the least show. I told my assistants there would be no danger whatever, until daybreak the next morning, and we would return to camp and sleep until near daylight.

When we got to the train Jim had not gone to bed yet. I told him where we had located the main band, and as near as I could the number of the Indians—about one hundred and fifty—but that I did not anticipate any trouble during the night.

Jim said he would sit up until four o'clock the next morning. "At which time," said he, "I will call you and you can take as many scouts with you as you like and watch every move made by the Indians, and if they start this way telegraph me at once and I will have everything in readiness to receive them, and I think we will be able to give them quite an interesting entertainment."

What we meant by the term telegraphing was sending a messenger as fast as he could ride, as there were no other means of transmitting messages quickly.

The next morning at four, sharp, Jim woke us up. He had our horses there, ready to saddle.

I sent three scouts north of the trail, three south and took the other two with me to look after the Indians.

We arrived at the place where we had been secreted the evening before, just as the Indians were breaking camp. They started toward the road, and I watched them till they struck the road and headed toward the train.

I then dispatched one of my assistants to the train, which was nearly four miles distant, telling him to spare no horseflesh, but make the trip as quick as his horse was able to carry him and notify Jim of the Indians' movements. The other scout and I stayed to watch the Indians. They traveled along the road at their leisure until they got in sight of the train, but Jim had all in readiness for them. He had raised the tongues of the two lead wagons—which in forming a corrall always stood face to face— about six feet high and had the nine scalps we had taken the day before, strung on a line and swung under the wagon tongues so as to be readily seen by the Indians. As soon as the Indians came in sight of the train he had all the men form in single line on the outside of the corrall, while all the women and children and all the stock were on the inside.

They circled around the entire train, taking in the situation but keeping out of gunshot. Seeing that the emigrants, much to their surprise, were ready to receive them, and seeing no chance to stampede their stock, they rode off on the hillside about half a mile away and held a council for about half an hour, after which they all mounted and rode away. They were not disposed to tackle a greater number than they had, especially when their antagonists were armed with guns, while they had only bows, and arrows, and tomahawks.

Our men were well armed with such hand-guns as were then in existence. Some had squirrel rifles, others yager's, shotguns and pistols. In fact, about all makes of firearms were represented in that emigrant train.

This was the first big band of hostile Indians that any of the people had ever seen, and Jim said there was the "wust" hubbub inside that corrall he had ever heard, notwithstanding he had cautioned them to be quiet.

The most nervous of the women, at sight of the Indians, commenced crying and screaming, while those more brave tried to reconcile those that were half frenzied from fright, and keep them quiet. Some were afraid to have their husbands stand outside the corrall for fear they would be killed by the redskins; but had it not been for that line of men standing on the outside of the wagons, and those scalps dangling from the wagon tongues all of which led the Indians to believe that the pale-faces were anxious to entertain them for awhile at least, they undoubtedly would have attacked that train that morning.

My assistants and I watched them all that day, and the train, after the Indians had gone, moved on. The Indians went back and took the trail of the nine scouts that they had sent out the morning before, tracked them to where their dead bodies lay, and taking four of the bodies with them, moved on eastward. We selected a high point and watched them until they had gone about ten miles, and then we turned and followed up the train, which camped that night at the head of Rock Creek. When we arrived and reported that the Indians had left the county they were the happiest lot of people I ever saw. It seemed that they thought this was the only band of Indians in the country.

The next day being Sunday Jim proposed that we lay over and rest, saying that he was about worn out himself and that he was satisfied that the scouts were in the same condition. This was satisfactory to all, so we did not move camp that day.

Up to this time we had not killed any game, although we had seen plenty, there being considerable buffalo in this part of the country yet, but it had been contrary to orders to shoot while traveling, and I want to say right here that the people of this train were always obedient to our orders during our travels with them.

I told them I would go out and kill a buffalo that day provided I could find one not too far from camp. A number of men in the train wanted to go with me for a buffalo hunt. "The more the merrier," I said, so we and started, six of us together.

About two miles from camp we saw a band of fifteen that had not yet seen us. We at once dropped back over the hill and taking a circuitous route, we rode on the opposite side of them from camp, and cautiously to within about a hundred and fifty yards, when they raised their heads, took a good look at us and started off toward the train. I told Saunders as he was on a fast horse to take one side and I would take the other and let the other boys bring up the rear, as by so doing we could drive them near camp and save packing the meat so far. When we were in the valley just below camp I told each man to select his buffalo and fire, which they did, when within a quarter of a mile from camp. We then all commenced yelling like Indians, and Jim Bridger said that he never saw a crowd of men get to their guns as quick as the men in the train did, for they actually thought we were Indians.

We succeeded in killing four buffalo out of the band, the last one being within a hundred yards of camp. We dressed them and all hands volunteered to carry the meat to camp where it was turned over to the committee to be distributed among the people of the entire train.

This was a great treat to them, for they had been living on bacon for a long time, having no fresh meat whatever.

It was twenty-five miles from here to the next place where we could find water and a suitable camping place where we would also have a good chance to protect ourselves from Indians. So we pulled out early, I distributing my scouts as usual, only that I went alone and had a hard ride for nothing.

After I had gone quite a distance I saw what I supposed to be Indians; but they were a long way off. The thought struck me that it was the was the same band we had seen before and that they were sneaking around intending to steal a march on us and attack the train while traveling and stampede the stock, which was often done when no scouts were kept out for their protection. I started to follow them up and did not find out my mistake until I struck the trail of my supposed band of Indians which to my surprise proved to be a buffalo trail and instead of Indians I had been following a band of buffalo all day.

That night I laid out and the people in camp were very uneasy about me, thinking I never would return, as they thought I must have been killed by Indians. Jim told them not to be alarmed as I would turn up all right the next day.

On a trip of this kind I usually took a lunch along with me; but not expecting to be out long this time I did not take anything to eat, so I had to starve it out until I got back to the train, which was the next day at noon.

I did not see any fresh Indian sign on the entire trip; neither did the other scouts see any sign of them, and we concluded that if we did not have any trouble for three days, we would be out of danger of the Sioux, for by that time we would be out in the Bitter Creek country and there was no fear of Indians there.

All went along smoothly and we did not see or hear of any more Indians until we got to Fort Bridger. Here I met one of Gen. Connor's men who told me that the Utes were very bad in the vicinity of Fort Douglas near Salt Lake, that being the place where Gen. Connor was stationed at that time. He said that they had not been able to get a fight out of the Indians yet, although they had followed them around a great deal.

We decided to take Sublet's Cutoff, leaving Salt Lake City about one hundred miles south, as Jim said he would rather fight Indians than Mormons.

Six days after leaving Fort Bridger I met two of Gen. Connor's scouts in Cash valley, and they told us the Utes were very bad farther West, and advised us to take the Goose Creek route to avoid the Indians. We took their advice.

Here was a scope of country that neither Jim nor I had ever been over, it being a new road just made the year previous.

After traveling four days on this road, late in the evening of the fourth, I discovered a little band of Indians about six or eight miles from the road on a stream that I have since heard called Raft river, which is a tributary of the Snake.

We watched the band until dark and then rode as near as we thought safe. I then left my horse with my two assistants and crawled up near the Indian camp and tried to get a count on them. When I got near them I found that they were Bannocks and were not warriors, but apparently a hunting and fishing party, and were an old men and women. I went away without molesting or even allowing them to know that I had been there.

Four days' travel from here brought us into a section of country where I had done my first scouting, on the waters of the Humboldt. The first day after striking the Humboldt, three of my men and I late in the afternoon, ran on to a small band of Utes, eleven in number. I thought we had discovered them and got away without being noticed, so I told the boys that by making a circuit of about one and a half miles we would have the advantage of the ground and would be on to them before they knew it.

On arriving at the place where I expected to make the charge I was disappointed to find that they were mounted and on the move, they having no doubt gotten sight of us when we first saw them. We gave chase but they had too far the start of us, and after running about two miles we ended the pursuit.

There was no more trouble until we got to where Wadsworth now stands. Here, one morning about sunrise, as the herders were bringing in the stock, five Indians rushed in and tried to stampede the animals, but the herders happened to see them in time to give the alarm. Jim and I having our horses tied near the camp, were out after them quicker than I can tell it. We got two of them, and I think the other three must have thought themselves extremely lucky that they got away with their scalps.

The only damage done by them was that they scared the herders out of a year's growth, and just where those Indians came from I never have been able to tell, for I made it a rule to circle the camp every evening and look for Indians and Indian signs.

This was the only time on the trip that I had an Indian steal a march on me, and this was the last trouble we had with Indians on this trip. Ten days travel brought us to the foot of the Sierra Nevada Mountains at the head of Eagle Valley.

Jim knowing that they wanted to lay over the next day, it being Sunday, he selected a lovely camping ground in a pleasant pine grove and went into camp about the middle of the afternoon.

As soon as we had got into camp, Jim and I went to the committee and told them they did not need our services any longer as there would be no danger whatever from here on of Indians, they being now out of the hostile country entirely.

When the women folks learned that we were going to leave they proposed giving a farewell party that night. Having musicians in the train, they selected a nice level spot, and all who desired to participate congregated there and had an enjoyable time. I think they enjoyed that dance out in that lovely forest as much as though they had been dancing in the finest hall in San Francisco; and I think even the old people who were religious were so overjoyed to know that they were once more safe from the much dreaded and barbarous red men of the plains, that they almost felt like dancing themselves.

Although I had been with this train just two and one half months I had been in company with the ladies but very little, for I had never been in in daylight only just long enough to eat my meals and change horses, consequently I was but slightly acquainted with any of them. This was the first dance on the trip, and it was surprising to me to see how sociable the ladies were with me, and had it not been that I was so bashful, I might have had a pleasant time.

When the dance was over, about ten o'clock that night, one of the committee got up and made us quite a speech in behalf of the people in the train, telling us how much they appreciated the interest we had taken in guarding their train through safely, and after he was through talking he gave each of us a letter of recommendation, which had been drawn up that evening while the dance was going on. I think those letters were signed by every man in the train, and a great many of the ladies had signed them too. The speaker concluded his remarks by asking us to remain with the train as long as we desired, and our provisions should not cost us a cent, nor for having our horses herded with theirs. It being too late in the fall to return to Fort Kearney, we accepted their kind and liberal offer and concluded to travel with them a few days.

We remained with them until near Sacramento, and here I met my old friend Johnnie West. He was beginning to look very old, considering his age. He told me he had quit drinking and was going to lead a different life from this on; that he had taken up a ranch five miles from Sacramento on the river and invited us home with him.

We accepted the invitation, and bidding the people that we had been traveling with nearly three months, good-bye, we left them and went with Johnnie to his ranch.

When we were ready to leave, I think every person in the train shook hands with us.