During this short interview I discovered a nigger in the Captain’s wood-pile. The fact was that the cowboys had him half scared to death by telling him all kinds of Indian war stories. The particular reason he had in calling on me, was to have me go down to the Territory, and if I was not scalped while on my mission, and if I found that the Indians were really going on the warpath, I should report to him without delay so that he might be able to withdraw his precious(?) person from the zone of danger and escape to Fort Dodge. I told the Captain that he was somewhat mistaken in the estimate a cowman places on a soldier as a means of defense where the Indians were concerned. I assured him that I had learned their personal views on the subject, and they had arrived at the conclusion that the soldier was a detriment and an encumbrance to them in case of trouble with the Indians, and, moreover, they felt quite capable of taking care of themselves in times of danger from such sources. I went on to tell him that if he were anxious to have an investigation of conditions made, he might come over to my place in a day or so and we would go down together and make the inquiries proper to the occasion, and that I would feel safer with him than if I were alone. I immediately saw that the Captain was getting an attack of what the hunters call “buck-ague.” “Thunder and turf,” he exclaimed, “I cannot go. I am subject to orders from the Governor, and I should be in a queer fix if I were called to duty in some other part of the State while I was down in the Territory. However, I can order Corporal Copeland to go with you.” I told him that the Corporal had no horse, and it would not be right to send him on foot. I also informed him that he would have to look around and make some other arrangements, as my horse was too old, and his knee was sprung from roping cattle, so that an Indian war horse could catch him without any trouble. Conditions being such, I told him I did not think I would go. “What!” he shouted, “you do not mean to disobey orders!” His eyes bulged out until they looked like old English watches, and his chest measurement seemed to increase perceptibly. He jumped up from his seat on the log and started for his horse, saying on his way, “If you persist in disobeying orders, I shall be forced to disarm you and court-martial you for insubordination.” “Well,” said I, “you will raise the deuce court-martialing me, when there is only five or six members of the Company who can read or write and they are all on my side.” I heard nothing more from the Captain for several days. Finally I received a letter from him telling me that he had written to the Governor regarding my disobedience. I replied to his message, saying that if the Governor was as tardy in taking action on my case as he was in sending arms and ammunition, I should die of old age before the matter would be adjusted. I also informed him that I had received word that the Indians would be in our neighborhood in a few days, and that he should see to it that means were taken for our defense. Next day I received another note from him in which he told me that he had changed his attitude toward me, and that I should call on Sergeant Rice and Lieutenant Brown and tell them to report to him for duty at once, and I was to accompany them. The message I received by special delivery. I made a visit up the creek to see my friends, Rice and Brown, and reported the change that had taken place in the Captain’s attitude, and also showed them his request and instructions, asking at the same time their opinions on the matter. Brown replied, “O pshaw, that does not amount to anything. Those cowboys over on Sand Creek have the old Captain about frightened to death, and I think we had better remain where we are. There’s not an Indian in the country, and I do not think there will be.” We acted on Brown’s suggestion and remained where we were.
At this time the cowmen were holding their Spring round-up on Sand Creek, to cut out and take back to their ranches the cattle that had drifted off during the winter, besides branding the calves before turning them loose again on the range. There were about one hundred cow-punchers at the round up, all well mounted and well armed. Each man had from three to five horses in his mount, all in good shape because they had been grain fed for the occasion. Their arms consisted of Winchesters and six-shooters. There had been so many rumors circulated about the possibility of an Indian raid that all went prepared for any emergency. One day while they were all lying around awaiting the arrival of the round-up herds from the Southeast, a happy thought occurred to them to put to the test the bravery of Captain Milligan, of which they had heard much, thinking at the same time to have some sport at his expense. They formed a company of about thirty, dressed up like Indians, or near enough to the real thing to be mistaken for them at a distance. The leader was fitted with a red saddle blanket decorated with sage brush for a war bonnet, with a few cat tails for plumes. He looked more like a grizzly bear than an Indian, but his appearance was well calculated to strike terror into the heart of any civilized human being, especially when everyone was looking for trouble from such a source anyway. The rest of the crowd dressed up as each saw fit, carrying their hats inside their shirts so as to travel bareheaded after the Indian fashion. When all was ready they took a direct route for Captain Milligan’s place. They all knew how to render the Cheyenne war whoop when the proper time arrived, and the leader rode along at a moderate pace chanting his war song. They came to a halt to decide whether they should burn him alive, or capture him and hold him for ransom. One man said it was useless to hold him for any ransom as he knew most of the company, and as for burning him alive, he did not think there was a cow-puncher in the crowd that would waste time necessary to gather chips for the sacrifice. In the meantime the chief kept ranging around and waving his hands, keeping his war bonnet as much in evidence as possible. They moved up to a position within about a quarter of a mile of the Captain’s house and then gave a war whoop. By this time the object of the joke became aware of their presence and felt his peril keenly. He made a dash for his corral where he kept a little, old, notch-eared, sore-backed pony that he always kept saddled for any emergency. To say that he went rapidly, is putting it mildly—he fairly flew. When he got started the Indians(?) made a rush to capture him, firing at him in the meanwhile. They remained a safe distance behind so as to be sure not to capture him, but kept up the shouting and whooping for about two miles. The Captain took the shortest course to Fort Dodge, and the cowboys returned to camp laughing heartily at the brave man’s flight.
When the Captain had made about five miles of his hasty retreat, he happened upon one of his neighbors, Mike O’Shea, who had begun to dig a well. As he passed in his headlong flight he shouted to Mike, “Tell Rice and Brown they are here, and I am going to Fort Dodge for relief and succor.” He was in too great a hurry to stop and explain the cause of his excitement, and as Mike explained it afterwards, he said he thought he was going for a “thafe and sucker” or something of the kind, or maybe it was “relafe and supper, or something like that.” He also noticed that the Captain’s horse was almost out of breath, and the gentleman himself was very much excited.
Whilst Rice and Brown were interviewing Mike, another man came along and stated that he had seen the Captain about ten miles north, and he reported having had an engagement with the Indians that day at his claim, and said that he had stood them off until they had retired. As he was about out of ammunition at the time of their departure, he took advantage of their retreat to make his way to Fort Dodge for relief and succor. He did not say how many he had killed, but maintained that he had a very narrow escape.
I suppose, if Captain Milligan is alive today, he does not fail to tell of the time he stood off five hundred Cheyenne Indians, single-handed and alone, and how, after driving them off, he beat them to Fort Dodge in quest of aid.
A few days after the encounter with the supposed Indians, Lieutenant Brown received the following note from the Captain:
Fort Dodge, Kansas, April—,’79.
Lieutenant Brown:
Dear Comrade:—I am in receipt of a telegram from the Governor, ordering me to go at once to Topeka, to take charge of the strike-breakers. The railroad employees have gone out on a strike, and it will take the strong arm of the militia to hold them in check. Sell my land and all my effects, and forward the proceeds to my address, which will be, State Capitol, Topeka.
Yours in command,
Captain Milligan.