On the very day that Wynkoop sent this letter, a body of two hundred and fifty Cheyennes, Arapahoes, and Sioux were raiding the settlements on the Saline River in Kansas, killing settlers, burning buildings, and committing unspeakable outrages on many defenseless women. Before the end of the month, according to the report of General Sheridan for that year, forty white men had been killed by the savages on the frontiers of Kansas and Colorado, many were wounded, and a large amount of property destroyed.
I must, however, confine my narrative to events that occurred in El Paso County and the counties adjoining. About ten days after the Wynkoop letter was written, a party of seventy-five Cheyennes and Arapahoes, all well mounted, marched in from the plains and passed up through Colorado City. Most of the savages had modern guns and were well supplied with ammunition,—presumably issued by the Government. They bore letters from Indian agents and peace commissioners, which stated that they were peaceably disposed and should not be feared nor molested; but our people, not being satisfied with that kind of testimony, telegraphed to the Governor at Denver, who replied, reiterating that they were not hostile and must not be interfered with. At the time of their visit to Colorado City, the Indians were noticeably sullen in their demeanor, and appeared to be observing everything in a suspicious manner. However, they left without committing any overt act, and, apparently, went on leisurely up the Ute Pass into the mountains to fight the Utes, which they claimed was their intention.
A day or two later they surprised a small band of Utes who were camped a few miles south of the Hartsell ranch in the South Park, and in the fight that followed claimed to have killed six of the Utes including two or three squaws, and to have carried off a small boy. On the day of this occurrence Samuel Hartsell, owner of the ranch above referred to, had gone over to the mountains that form the eastern border of the South Park, looking for wild raspberries. While on one of the low mountains of that locality, he saw a group of mounted men in the valley below, a mile or so away. He had not heard of any Cheyennes or Arapahoes being in that neighborhood, consequently he very naturally concluded that the horsemen were Utes. Having been on friendly terms with that tribe for many years, and well acquainted with many of its members, he decided to ride down the mountain to meet them. But as he came near the group, he noticed that they were not dressed as the Utes usually were, nor did they look like the people of that tribe; however, it was now too late to retreat, as almost immediately afterward he was discovered and surrounded by the savages. By that time Hartsell, through his general knowledge of the Indians of this Western country, knew that his captors were Cheyenne and Arapahoe warriors, tribes that had been hostile to the whites during the past four years, and were still hostile, so far as he knew. Consequently, he was very much alarmed, realizing that he was in a very dangerous situation. Evidently, the savages were not yet ready to begin hostilities, as was proved by their efforts to reassure Hartsell by showing him their certificates from Indian agents, telling of their peaceable character; but this did not prevent them from at once taking his revolver, ammunition, and pocket knife.
Hartsell estimated that there were about seventy Indians in the band, all of whom were fully armed and amply supplied with ammunition. The savages told him of their victory over the Utes, showed him the scalps they had taken, and the boy they had captured. Finally, after keeping Hartsell in suspense for more than three hours, the Indians allowed him to go without injury, and then departed eastward in the direction of Colorado City. The people of Colorado City and its vicinity knew nothing of this occurrence until some time afterwards. Notwithstanding the assurance of the Governor and the Indian agents, the settlers continued to be very much alarmed at the presence of the savages, and knowing their treacherous nature, maintained a sharp lookout in order to prevent being attacked unawares. About eleven o'clock in the morning three or four days after the savages disappeared up Ute Pass, three Indians appeared at H. M. Teachout's ranch on Monument Creek, eight miles northeast of Colorado City. They claimed to be friendly Utes, but Teachout, being familiar with the Indian tribes of the region, knew that they were not Utes. After staying five or ten minutes, during which time they seemed to be intent on taking in the surroundings, and especially the corral where Teachout's large herd of horses was kept at night, they left, following the main road towards Colorado City. Mr. Teachout and his brother, who lived on the Divide, owned about one hundred and fifty horses, all of which were kept at this Monument Creek ranch.
After the Indians had disappeared, Teachout, being alarmed, rounded up his horses and drove them into the corral, where he kept them during the daytime thereafter, letting them out to graze only at night, thinking that the safest plan. Apparently, the Indians, having obtained all the information they desired concerning the settlements around Colorado City, disappeared, and a day or two later were heard of raiding the frontier settlements east of Bijou Basin and on the headwaters of Kiowa, Bijou, and Running creeks, during which raid they killed several people and ran off much stock.
On August 27, 1868, the Cheyennes and Arapahoes killed Mrs. Henrietta Dieterman and her five-year-old son on Comanche Creek, about twenty-five miles northeast of Colorado City, in a peculiarly atrocious manner. The Dieterman household consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Dieterman, a daughter about twelve years old, a son of five years, a sister of Mr. Dieterman's, and a hired man. The sister was soon to marry the hired man, and he and Mr. Dieterman had gone to Denver to buy furniture for the new household, leaving a German farmhand temporarily in charge. On the morning of the 27th, something happened to alarm Mrs. Dieterman. She evidently believed the Indians were near, for she hurriedly started with her sister-in-law and the two children for a neighbor's house some distance away. After having gone a few hundred yards she remembered that she had left a considerable sum of money in the house, and with her small son went back to get it. They reached the house, got the money, and started away again, but had gone only a short distance when they were overtaken by the Indians, who at once shot and killed both of them. The savages shot the boy repeatedly and finally broke his neck. The mother was shot through the body, stabbed, and scalped, and the bodies of both were dreadfully mutilated. Those who afterwards saw the victims said that it was one of the most horrible sights they had ever looked upon. Meanwhile, the sister-in-law and daughter ran to where the German was working in the field near by. He stood the Indians off by pointing the handle of his hoe at them, making them believe it was a gun. In that way he covered the retreat of himself and the others to a neighbor's house. Mrs. Dieterman had formerly lived near the northern line of El Paso County, and was well known to many of the old settlers. The awful tragedy of her death created a great sensation, not only in that county, but also in Denver and throughout the entire State. News of the killing of Mrs. Dieterman and of the other outrages perpetrated by the Indians in that region reached Colorado City late in the evening, a day or two afterwards. As there was a possibility of the savages appearing at any moment, messengers were at once sent throughout the county notifying the people of the great danger that confronted them. At that time I happened to be at home with my father and other members of the family on our Bear Creek ranch. About eleven o'clock at night, we were aroused from sleep by the messenger sent to warn us and were advised to go immediately to Colorado City for protection. We appreciated the danger of our situation and quickly hitched up our team, put a few necessary articles of wearing apparel and bedding into the wagon, and started for town, three miles distant. It was a dark night, which made the trip a weird as well as an anxious one. With my sisters and younger brothers in the wagon, my father and I marched along behind, each with a rifle in hand, knowing that there was a possibility that the Indians had already stolen into this region, and that every bush or rock on the way might conceal a savage; but nothing happened and we reached town in safety. It was an incident that made one appreciate to the fullest extent the disagreeable and dangerous features of frontier life. We rented a house in Colorado City, moved our household effects from the ranch, and remained in town until after the Indian troubles were over.
Early in the morning of September 1st, Mr. Teachout, accompanied by his hired man, went out to bring in his herd of horses, as had been his custom since the visit of the three Indians a few days previous. They went down Monument Creek a mile or two, then up Cottonwood Creek, where they found the herd scattered along the valley for a mile or more above the point where the Santa Fé Railway now crosses that creek, which is about six miles north of the present city of Colorado Springs. The two rode leisurely through the herd up the valley on the south side of the stream, and had gone about half a mile above the point just mentioned, when they saw a half dozen mounted Indians come over the hill to the north and dash at full speed in the direction of the herd. Following them, other Indians came in sight, until there were at least twenty-five in the band. In a very short time the savages had rounded up most of the horses and were driving them up the creek at a furious speed. They passed Teachout, who was on the other side of the creek, expecting every minute to be attacked. Neither he nor his hired man had guns, but as they did not run, the Indians evidently thought they were armed, and kept some distance away. As they went by, one of the Indians who could speak English yelled: "Damn you, we are going to take your horses!" Soon after this, Teachout saw that the Indians had missed a bunch of fifteen to twenty colts that were grazing off to one side, and he and his hired man started after them, thinking to save at least that part of the herd. But the Indians soon discovered what they were after and started in pursuit, firing as they went. When affairs took this turn, there was nothing left for Teachout and his man to do but ride for their lives, and get back to the ranch as quickly as possible, which they did. The Indians rounded up the colts and soon disappeared to the eastward up Cottonwood Creek with the entire herd. Less than an hour afterward, they passed a ranch near the head of the creek, traveling rapidly. At this place the Indians attempted to add to their herd, but failed, as the horses they were after happened to be picketed close to the house, and a few shots from two well-armed ranchmen entrenched behind the walls of their log cabin drove the savages off.
Upon reaching home, Teachout immediately sent a messenger to his brother on the Divide, with an account of the raid and a request that he enlist as large an armed force as could quickly be gotten together, to follow the Indians and, if possible, recover the horses. The brother acted promptly, and that evening a party consisting of Dow and Bale Simpson, Jim Sims, "Wild Bill," and others, whose names I have been unable to obtain, twenty-eight in all, started in pursuit of the savages. The party camped that night at a ranch about three miles southeast of C. R. Husted's saw-mill, and at this point were joined by a Mr. Davis and Job Talbert, a brother-in-law of Mr. Husted. These two men had expected to get horses and arms at this ranch. Failing in this, however, they started back to the mill the following morning, but had gone only a short distance when the Indians overtook them, killed and scalped both leaving their mutilated bodies in the road, where they were found by their friends a few hours afterward.
The Simpson party, as it afterwards was called, started again early in the morning, soon found the trail of the captured herd, and followed it rapidly along the south side of the pinery, then eastward across Squirrel Creek and down the Big Sandy to the mouth of a creek coming in from the north, the size of the herd making the trail plain and easy to follow. So far no Indians had been seen, and the indications were that the Indians with the stolen horses were so far ahead as to make further pursuit useless. But instead of returning directly home, they decided to follow up this creek and scout the country to the east of Bijou Basin. A few miles up the creek they came to a ranch, which they found deserted. The house was open and had been thoroughly ransacked, but the owner nowhere appeared. After considerable search, his dead body was found some distance away. He had been killed and scalped by the Indians, and, as in every other case, the body had been horribly mutilated, the house looted, and all his stock driven off. After burying the body, the party continued in a northerly direction until it reached the old Smoky Hill road. Here they met a party of eighteen men from the country to the north of Bijou Basin, and it was decided to combine the two forces for further scouting in that region. A short distance away from their camp that night, they found and buried the bodies of two men who had been killed by the Indians a day or two before. The combined parties camped together that night, and the following morning started towards Bijou Basin. During all this time no Indians had been seen, and it seemed probable that the savages had returned to their villages on the plains. Under this impression, the men marched rather carelessly along, strung out over the prairie for a considerable distance. Early in the afternoon the party of eighteen, having decided that there was nothing further they could accomplish, left the Simpson party and started off northwesterly, in the direction of their homes. Hardly were they out of sight when two of Simpson's men, who were some distance ahead of the main party, saw a few Indians on a hill not very far away. Word was at once sent back to the stragglers, and the party closed up in double-quick time. Meanwhile other Indians appeared, until in a short time they greatly outnumbered the Simpson party. This made it imperative that a place for defense should be found without delay. Apparently, the most favorable position in sight was the extreme point of a short and rather isolated ridge near by, at which place the ground dropped off rather abruptly on three sides. The men rushed to this point, formed a circle, and began to throw up temporary entrenchments with butcher knives and such other implements as they had at hand. By this time the Indians, under cover of a ridge to the south, had opened a sharp fire. Bullets were whizzing around in a lively fashion and in a few minutes several of the horses had been wounded. However, an encouraging feature of the situation was that many of the shots fired by the Indians struck the ground some distance away. The whites returned the fire at every opportunity, and had reason to believe that their shots had been effective in a number of instances, although the Indians kept under cover as much as possible. Before darkness came on, a number of Simpson's men had been wounded and several of the horses killed. By this time, notwithstanding the strong defense that was being made, it became more and more a question whether the party could withstand a vigorous charge by the Indians.
Night coming on, the firing of the Indians slackened a little and the men were enabled to give some consideration to their situation. It was realized that neither their location nor resources were favorable for a long siege, and for that reason help must be obtained as soon as possible. Among the party was a dare-devil sort of fellow known by the name of "Wild Bill," who volunteered to take the fastest horse, and in the darkness endeavor to break through the Indian line, which now completely surrounded the hill. Then, if successful, he was to hurry on to the settlements at Bijou Basin, fifteen miles away, and bring back reinforcements as quickly as possible. This suggestion met with the approval of every one, and arrangements were immediately made to carry it into effect. About nine o'clock Wild Bill, mounted on Dow Simpson's race horse, stole out from the entrenchments and quietly rode away. The night being moderately dark, he succeeded in getting some distance away before he was discovered by the Indians. He then put spurs to his horse and dashed away at the best speed the animal was capable of, the Indians following in a frantic endeavor to cut him off, shooting at him as they ran. Fortunately neither he nor the horse was hit, and in a short time he had left the Indians far behind. After that, he was not long in reaching Bijou Basin, where arrangements were at once made to dispatch couriers to Colorado City and elsewhere for reinforcements.