Forty Years Among the Indians / A true yet thrilling narrative of the author's experiences among the natives

by Daniel W. Jones

With the meat on hand and these cattle we felt pretty safe for the balance of the season. We had hopes of keeping a yoke of the cattle to haul wood with, this having been done all winter with a light wagon, ten men for team, or in hand-carts. The ice was melted on the river and in going for wood it had to be waded. This was hard on the boys, and we were very grateful for the cattle.

About this time the second company of the Y. X. express, under Jet Stoddard, passed down. They had but little to spare us, but we were now out of danger. We got a little flour, salt and bacon.

The word was that the next company would bring us flour. The most of us had got so we cared but little for bread if we could have plenty of meat. Our cattle were our pets now. We hauled up a lot of wood. The grass being quite good off toward the east, the cattle were taken out every day. At night someone went and brought them in and corraled them. Our horses were hoppled in sight of camp, where they ran day and night.

One evening the boys who went for the oxen came in rather late without them, saying that they could not hear the bell. We supposed they had laid down for the night; still, we were anxious, as our meat was about out and we expected to soon butcher the fattest of them.

Early next morning Brother Hampton and I saddled up and started out before breakfast to hunt the cattle, not expecting to be gone more than an hour. We soon struck their trail going east, most of the time showing they were on the move, not often feeding. At sundown we were about thirty miles from camp, still trailing and tolerably hungry; but that trail could not be left. We followed on, the tracks running almost parallel with the road but gradually nearing it. It now became too dark to see the trail.

We were continually expecting to hear the bell, but no bell sounded. We continued in the same direction until we reached the main road. After following it a short distance Brother Hampton dismounted and felt for tracks. He soon decided that the cattle were now on the road as he could feel the tracks where the ground had been lately disturbed, the road being dry and soft in places. Thus we continued to travel for some four or five miles feeling for tracks. At length we came to a gulch crossing the road, several feet deep and full of snow. We could see where the cattle had crossed as the moon was now up and we could trail quite well; but on attempting to cross the drift, we sank down. At this season of the year these snow-drifts freeze in the night time, thawing out in the afternoon and gradually melting away so that from noon until after midnight it is impossible for a horse to cross them; men often crossing on hands and knees, or if the snow is quite soft lying down and rolling across. This we could have done but our horses did not feel as anxious as we did to go on; so when we proposed to them to roll across the drift, they pretended not to understand us.

We followed up the drift for quite a distance, but it remained the same white streak of snow as far as we could see by moonlight, so we concluded to turn in until morning when the snow would be hardened. It was now getting quite chilly, we had eaten nothing all day, all the bedding we had was a couple of small saddle blankets, and there was nothing to make a fire with but a little green sagebrush. But if there had been fuel we would have been afraid to light a fire as the Crow Indians were in the country and might steal our horses.

We went to "ground" but did not sleep much. It soon became so cold that we almost froze to death. When we thought the snow was hard enough we got up, but were so chilled we could not saddle our horses. We were almost lifeless, and commenced stirring about to bring life back. We commenced bumping against each other, sometimes knocking one another down. We got to laughing at the ridiculousness of our actions, more life returned, our teeth began chattering and our bodies shaking, but we kept up this jostling each other until we started circulation and were able to saddle up and go on. It was daylight before we got thawed out. We walked until we got well warmed up the trail following right on the road.

About ten o'clock a. m. we found the cattle. They had finally turned off the road to feed. We were now about forty-five miles from home. The first thing I proposed after finding the cattle was to cut their tails off, tie a string around the stubs to keep them from bleeding, roast the tails and eat them, for I felt wolfish. Ben objected, saying it might weaken the cattle and that he believed we could stand it back home; that the cattle were good travelers and may be we could reach the fort by midnight. Our horses (or rather, horse and mule. As I will soon have to deal a little with a mule it will not do to call him a horse now) were all right, having been on good feed the night before. The cattle, on being turned back, took the road in good shape, starting on a trot.

We were anxious to get back and cross the snowdrift before it softened up. This we succeeded in doing, and continued traveling until after noon before "bating." We had more sympathy for ourselves than for our animals, for we were getting a little hungry and dreaded the thought of having to "go to ground" again. So we kept up our speed. Finally Ben's mule began to weaken. We had considerable trouble to get it along, but by one leading and the other walking and whipping we got to Independence Rock, where there were three or four men camped in some old houses. This was about six miles from our fort. Here we had a trial I think few men would have stood. As we rode up they had a good fire burning, a nice supper cooked and were just ready to commence eating.