My story of the Indian troubles of that period will necessarily be much in the nature of a personal narrative. At the time hostilities began, I was little more than eighteen years old, and as fond of excitement and adventure as boys at that age usually are. I had a part in many of the occurrences which I shall mention, and was personally familiar with the details of most of the others.
About the 20th of June, 1864, word reached Colorado City that a day or two previously, the Hungate family, living on Running Creek about forty miles northeast of Colorado City, had been murdered by the Indians. The father and mother had been shot down and mutilated with horrible brutality, and the children who had tried to escape had been pursued and killed, so that not one of the family was left alive. This news made the people of Colorado City, and the settlers along the Fountain and on the Divide, very uneasy, and of course, after that, they were constantly on the lookout, not knowing where the savages might next appear. Two or three weeks after the murder of the Hungate family, some cattle herders came into Colorado City late one evening and told of having seen near Austin's Bluff, a half a dozen mounted Indians who seemed to be acting mysteriously. Following the killing of the Hungate family, and other acts of hostility at various places on the plains, this was indeed alarming news. Consequently, early the following morning an armed party went to the place where the Indians had been seen, found their trail, and followed it. In this way it was discovered that, some time during the previous night, the Indians had been on the hill that overlooks Colorado City on the north, and that the trail from that point led into the mountains. The direction from which these Indians came, their mysterious movements after they were discovered, taken in connection with the recent acts of hostility, and the knowledge that the tribes of the plains had been attempting during the previous winter to make a coalition for the purpose of annihilating the settlements along the eastern base of the mountains, seemed convincing proof that this band was here for no good purpose.
At that time I was living with my father on the west side of Camp Creek, about half-way between Colorado City and the Garden of the Gods. I had been in town during the forenoon and had heard the alarming news, and as a result, after that father and I kept a sharp lookout for the savages. However, the day passed without anything further having been seen or heard of them. Shortly after sundown, my brothers Edgar and Frank, who were small boys, brought our cattle in from the neighborhood of the Garden of the Gods, and while I was helping to drive them into the corral adjacent to our house, I happened to look up the valley of Camp Creek, and there, about three-quarters of a mile away, I saw six mounted Indians leading an extra horse. They were going easterly along the old Indian trail, which I have heretofore described, that ran just south of the Garden of the Gods. As soon as I saw these Indians, I was sure that they were the party which had been trailed into Colorado City the night before. Without delay I strapped on a revolver, took my gun, and rode to Colorado City as fast as my pony could travel, to report what I had seen. The people had been greatly agitated during the day and, consequently, the news I brought caused much excitement.
It was at once decided that the Indians must be followed, and if possible the purpose of their visit ascertained. In less than three-quarters of an hour, ten mounted and well-armed men were ready for the pursuit. Those forming the party were Anthony Bott, Dr. Eggleston, William J. Baird, A. T. Cone, Ren Smith, myself, and four others whose names I cannot now recall. By a quarter of eight we were traveling along the trail taken by the Indians across the Mesa east of the Garden of the Gods. We appreciated the necessity of making as little noise as possible, and all talking was carried on in an undertone. The trail led from the Mesa down to Monument Creek, about a mile above the present site of Colorado Springs, and then crossed the stream over a bed of gravel that extended to the bluff on the eastern side. Thick clumps of willows enclosed the trail on both sides. It was a starlight night without clouds, but not light enough for us to see an object any distance away.
We suspected nothing, as we believed the Indians to be far ahead of us. But just as we came up on the first rise out of the willows on the east side of the creek we were startled to see them huddled together on the left of us, under the bank, apparently getting ready to start a small camp-fire, while to the right were their ponies, which had been turned out to graze. The Indians were just as much surprised as we were, and for an instant the situation was extremely tense. As we refrained from firing, the Indians, knowing that they were at a disadvantage in not being able to reach their ponies, evidently with the hope of making us believe that they were friendly, began calling out "How! How!" as Indians usually do on meeting the whites. We then questioned them, hoping to ascertain the object of their presence in this locality. Some of our people had a slight knowledge of Spanish, with which the Indians seemed somewhat conversant, and in this way and by signs, we told them that we were there only for the purpose of ascertaining their object in visiting this region, and not to do them harm; that if they could show that they were here for no hostile purpose, we would permit them to go on their way unmolested, but in order to establish this fact it would be necessary for them to go with us to Colorado City, where competent interpreters could be found, and meanwhile we should require them to give up their arms. They apparently assented to this proposition, and at once surrendered such of their arms as were in sight. Six of us then dismounted, and each took an Indian in charge while he was securing his pony. The Indian I had in charge was a tall, slim fellow, fully six feet in height and probably not much over twenty years of age. He appeared to take the situation quietly and I had no reason to apprehend any trouble with him. I allowed him to lead his pony to the camp, where he put on the saddle and bridle and mounted the animal, as all were permitted to do. We then formed the Indians in ranks of twos, placing a file of our men on each side of them, each white man having charge of the Indian next to him, which left two extra whites for the front and two to guard the rear. I was in charge of the Indian on the left side of the rear rank and had hold of his bridle with my right hand. The order was given to march and we started east towards the plateau on which Colorado Springs is now built. We had proceeded only eight or ten feet when the Indians suddenly halted. From the time they mounted they had been talking animatedly with one another in their own language. Just then someone happened to see that one of the Indians had a knife in his hand. This was taken from him and then we made a systematic search of the others and found that most of them had knives, and one a spear concealed under his blanket. It was with great difficulty that we twisted these weapons from their hands, but finally, as we thought, secured everything of that nature. The order was again given to march. Immediately following this, the Indians gave a tremendous war-whoop, shook their blankets, and were out from between us before we realized what was happening. The bridle rein in my hand was jerked away before I knew it. We were all so dazed that the Indians probably were seventy-five to one hundred feet away before our people began shooting. Meantime, my pony, which was of Indian breed, had become almost unmanageable. He seemed to be determined to go off with the other Indian ponies and I had the greatest difficulty in restraining him. Before I succeeded, I was so far in front that I was in great danger of being shot by our own people. By the time I could get my pony under control, the Indians were too far away for me to shoot with hope of doing any execution, but during this time the others had been making such good use of their weapons that in a few minutes the affair was over, and five of the Indians had fallen from their ponies. Whether they had been killed or wounded we did not know until some years later. We only knew that their ponies were running riderless over the plains. It was now about ten o'clock, and quite dark; consequently we made little effort to locate the dead and wounded. We rounded up the ponies, there being six of them, one a pack animal, and after gathering up such of the belongings of the Indians as they had dropped in their flight, we started on our return to Colorado City.
The whole occurrence made one of the weirdest scenes that it has ever been my fortune to witness. First the sudden discovery of the Indians in the darkness of the night; the group formed of the Indians with the whites surrounding them; the mounting of the ponies; the shrill war-whoop of six savages ringing out in the solitude, followed by the shots, and then the riderless horses running hither and thither over the plain. The dramatic scene was completed a few minutes later by the rounding up of these riderless ponies and the beginning of the march back to Colorado City over the present town site of Colorado Springs, the only inhabitants of which at that time were the antelope and the coyotes. Our road led us over the present College reservation, down what is now Cascade Avenue to a ford crossing the Monument Creek, just west of the present Rio Grande freight station.
On the way home, the thought came to us whether we could have done differently under the circumstances. We knew the tribes to which these Indians belonged were at war with the whites, and that, unless they were on their way to fight the Utes, they were here on no peaceable errand so far as our people were concerned. Their course in going only to the foot of the mountains, showed that they were not seeking the Utes, and their actions under cover of the previous night, and afterward, up to the time they were captured, proved conclusively that they were here as scouts of a larger party, to ascertain and to report the strength of the town and its surrounding settlements. When first discovered, they were in an out-of-the-way spot, and from that time on until their capture, they traveled over abandoned roads and trails, probably hoping in this way to fulfill their mission without detection. These things convinced us that we had accomplished an important work, and the only regret we had was that we had not been able to bring the captives into town.
Early the following morning several of our party returned to the scene of the occurrence of the night before, hoping to find the bodies of the Indians who unquestionably had been killed in the mêlée, but there was nothing to indicate the struggle excepting a few articles of clothing and personal adornment, and marks upon the ground showing where the dead and wounded had evidently lain. Several years afterward, we learned from the Cheyennes that three of this scouting party had been killed outright, one was so seriously wounded that he died shortly afterward, another was slightly wounded, and one had escaped unhurt. The last, with the aid of the one slightly wounded, had carried off and buried the dead during the night.
News of our evening's experience spread rapidly and created intense excitement in Colorado City and throughout the county. The people of El Paso County now realized that they were face to face with Indian troubles of the most serious nature, and that arrangements for the defense of the town and surrounding country must immediately be made. The fighting strength of the Pike's Peak region was exceedingly limited, as compared with the great horde of savages that occupied our eastern frontier. Probably there were not over three hundred men of all ages in El Paso County at that time. And, as further showing the precarious position of the community, I wish to call attention to the fact that the frontier settlements of the United States at that time extended but little west of the Missouri River, leaving the narrow belt of settlements along the eastern base of the mountains in Colorado separated from the nearest communities to the east by a stretch of plains at least four hundred miles in width, inhabited only by wild and savage tribes of nomadic Indians. The same condition existed on the north to the British possessions, and to the west the Ute Indians held undisputed sway to the Great Salt Lake valley. To the south, with the exception of a small part of New Mexico sparsely settled by feeble and widely scattered communities of Spanish-speaking people, wild tribes roamed over every portion of the country for hundreds of miles. From the foregoing, it will be seen that the settlements of Colorado were but a small island of civilization in a sea of savagery. Our settlements were at times completely cut off from civilization in every direction by this cordon of savage tribes; their very existence was now threatened, with no hope of assistance from the National Government, because of the civil war which was then at its most critical stage, demanding every resource of the nation. Threatened as they were by hordes of hostile savages and under conditions that would have had a disheartening effect upon a people not inured to frontier life, our settlers had no thought of allowing themselves to be driven out or overwhelmed.
Warning was at once sent to every family living down the Fountain and on the Divide, the result being that within a day or two almost every ranch in the county was abandoned. The people for fifteen miles down the valley below Colorado City came to that town. Those living below gathered at the extreme lower edge of the county and there built a place of defense. In Colorado City the work of constructing a fort around an old log hotel was started at once. Green pine logs, ten to fifteen inches in diameter and about fifteen feet long, were cut on the adjacent mountains, brought in, and set in the ground close together, entirely surrounding the building, making a defensive structure about twelve feet high. At intervals through these logs portholes were made for use in repelling an attack. During the next month or two all the women and children of the town as well as those who had congregated there from the country slept at night in this fortification. Throughout this time a picket force of three or four mounted men was maintained night and day on the flat east of the town, and out on the present site of Colorado Springs. There was scarcely a day during this period in which Indians were not seen at various points in the country to the east of Colorado City, and on the borders of the settlements along the Fountain, but as the people everywhere were watchful, the savages had little opportunity of catching any one unawares.