CHAPTER XXIII.
Difficulty in Finding the Trail—The Character of our Commanding Officer—My Discharge as Guide—A Proposition to Kill Stith—Rejected by Moore and Myself—Arrival at Santa Fe—The Confidence of the Quartermaster in Me.
On arriving at Grand river Stith's outfit was prepared and we were set across the river in a place entirely unknown to me. I did not even know whether the Dolores river was above or below me, and so told the officer. There was a point known as the bend of Dolores where I had been, but from where we were to that point the country was new to me. I had no definite idea of the distance but knew it must be several days' journey. This country, as the name of the river implies, was about the worst country I ever traveled through. While we were prospecting to see if we could get any sight of the river, I found a lone Indian. He had been out all alone on a stealing expedition to the Navajo Indians, had got a few horses and was on his way home to Uintah. After much persuasion and some pay, I induced him to go a day's travel and show me the river and put me on the trail if there was any.
We were about thirty miles above the Dolores where it empties into Grand river. On arriving at the river, we found a trail leading up it for only a short distance. My Indian friend described the country and trails to me so that I felt pretty sure of getting to a place with which I was acquainted.
We were ten days reaching the bend of the Dolores where the old Spanish trail strikes it, but does not cross. We only struck the river twice the whole distance. It runs through box canyons most of the way, and is unapproachable; so the wagon-road ordered explored I do not think will be made yet awhile.
By this time we had learned the character of our commanding officer. He was simply a ruffian of the worst type. I had to watch him daily, as he was suspicious of being led into ambush.
We had met one party of Indians, an old man and family. My brother-in-law was acquainted with him, he having been one of the Grand valley company that was driven away by the Indians. This old man was of the peace party, and told Mr. Moore all about what had happened, after they were driven away. Seeing Moore friendly and talking with the old Indian made Stith more suspicious of us. He often hinted that it would be dangerous for us if we ever came across Indians in any number. This was not very pleasant, for we were in a country where a great many Indians roamed and we were liable to run across a lot at any time, but as good luck would have it, we never did. We always believed that if we had run into an Indian camp that Stith would have attempted to take our lives.
The soldiers did not like him, neither did they think as he did, but they all feared him as he had shot down some of his company. This same officer had shot and killed one man, who had given out and could not travel. This occurred on a Texas desert.
My intention was to take care of myself, and if we had met any Indians to see that I was not harmed if a good rifle could protect me. Moore and myself watched him all the time.
We arrived at the Dolores bend at eleven o'clock a. m. I recommended camping. Stith said he had not made a day's march and would not camp. I said, "Then let's noon."