Meanwhile, those surrounded on the hill were most anxious for the safety of their messenger. They heard the shots and knew that he had been discovered, and that the Indians were in pursuit of him, but had no means of telling whether or not he had escaped. The only reassuring circumstance was that soon after this the firing gradually slackened, finally stopping altogether; and when daylight came there were no Indians in sight. The besieged men realized that this might be only a ruse, and that possibly the Indians were lurking near, ready to take advantage of them after they had left their entrenchments. However, on account of their critical position, being entirely without water for themselves and their horses, they determined to make a dash and take a chance of reaching the settlements. This being decided upon, they started at once, and without further molestation reached Holden's ranch in Bijou Basin before noon, no Indians having been seen on the way. In the engagement none of the party had been killed and no one seriously wounded, probably because of the poor ammunition issued to the Indians by the Government—for which I suppose the white people of this region should have been duly thankful.
While this engagement had been going on, stirring events had been happening in the neighborhood of Colorado City and elsewhere in the county. As I have already stated, within the next few days after the killing of Mrs. Dieterman, and the raid upon Teachout's horses, most of the ranchmen down the Fountain Valley had brought their families to Colorado City for protection. The people of the Divide gathered for defense at McShane's ranch near Monument, at John Irion's on Cherry Creek, and at Husted's mill in the pinery. The air was full of rumors of Indian depredations in every direction; but, as it was harvest time, it was imperative that the gathering of the crops be attended to. This made it necessary that some chances be taken, and it so happened that, when the crisis came, many of the men of Colorado City were out in the harvest fields of the surrounding country.
About noon on September 3, 1868, a band of forty to fifty Indians came dashing down the valley of Monument Creek, capturing all loose horses in their path. The first white man they ran across was Robert F. Love, of Colorado City, who was riding along the higher ground to the east of Monument Creek, not far from the present town of Roswell. As soon as Love saw the Indians, instead of trying to get away, which he knew would be useless, he dismounted, keeping his pony between himself and the savages, and, by keeping his revolver pointed in their direction, showing them that he was armed. After maneuvering around him for a time, the Indians passed on, apparently convinced that some of them would get hurt if they remained. It was not their policy to take many chances, as was evidenced throughout their entire stay in this region. They seldom troubled people who seemed to offer any serious resistance, seeking rather defenseless men, women, and children. Soon after leaving Love, a few of the Indians crossed Monument Creek to the house of David Spielman, which stood on the west side, about half a mile above the Mesa Road Bridge in the present city of Colorado Springs. Spielman had just finished moving his family and household effects to Colorado City, and being tired, had lain down behind the open front door, and had gone to sleep. The Indians looked in at the open door, but fortunately did not see him. They then went to the corral and took from it a horse that Spielman had purchased only the day before. After that they recrossed Monument Creek and joined the main body, which continued rapidly along the low ground east of the creek, crossing the present Washburn Athletic Field, on the way, and coming out on to the higher ground a few hundred yards south of Cutler Academy, near where the Hagerman residence now stands.
A short time previously, Charley Everhart, a young man about eighteen years of age, had started from his home just west of Monument Creek and near the present railway bridge above the Rio Grande station, to look after his father's cattle, that were grazing on the plain now covered by the city of Colorado Springs. After crossing Monument Creek, he followed a trail that led eastward along the south rim of the high bank north of what is now known as Boulder Crescent. Everhart knew there were Indians in the country, and was no doubt on the lookout for them. He was mounted on a small pony, and had probably gone as far east as the present location of Tejon Street, when he evidently saw the Indians as they came out into open view to the north of him. He at once turned his pony toward home and urged it to its highest speed, making a desperate effort to escape from the savages; but his horse was no match for those of the Indians, and they soon overtook him. Everhart had reached a point near the intersection of what is now Platte and Cascade Avenues, when a shot from one of the savages caused him to fall from his horse. One of the Indians then came up to him, ran a spear through his body, and scalped him, taking all the hair from his head except a small fringe around the back part. The whole occurrence was witnessed from a distance by several persons. An hour or so afterward, when the Indians had gone and it was safe to do so, a party went out to where his mutilated body lay, and brought it to Colorado City.
After killing Everhart, the Indians saw farther down the valley, a quarter of a mile or so away, a lone sheep herder, who was generally known as "Judge" Baldwin, and the whole band immediately started after him. When Baldwin saw the Indians coming, he tried to escape. Having no spurs or whip, he took off one of his long-legged boots and used it to urge his mount to its utmost speed. This, however, was ineffectual, as his horse was inferior to those of the Indians, and they had no difficulty in overtaking him before he had gone very far. They shot him, and he fell from his horse near the site of the present Fourth Ward Schoolhouse. The bullet struck Baldwin in the shoulder, and as he was leaning forward at the time, it passed upward through his neck and came out through the jaw. He dropped from his horse completely dazed, but in his delirium he used the boot to fight off the Indians. The latter evidently thought the wound mortal, so without wasting any more ammunition upon him one of their number proceeded to take his scalp. The savage ran the knife around the back part of Baldwin's head, severing the scalp from the skull, and then discovered that he had been scalped at some previous time. For some reason, probably superstition of some kind, the Indians then abandoned the idea of scalping him, and the entire band rode off, leaving their victim, as they supposed, to die on the prairie. It was a fact that Baldwin had been scalped by Indians in South America some years before.
After leaving Baldwin, the Indians divided into two bands, one of which went in a northeasterly direction and crossed Shooks Run near the point where Platte Avenue now intersects it. Near this place they were joined by other Indians who had evidently been in concealment near by. It is said that during all this time two or three Indians stationed on the hill where the Deaf and Blind Institute is now located, apparently by the use of flags, directed the movements of those doing the killing, wigwagging in a manner similar to that in use in the army at that time, and that these signal men fell in with the others as they came along; after which they all rode rapidly to the eastward and soon disappeared on the plains. The other party continued down the valley of the Fountain, and at a point just below where the Rio Grande bridge now crosses Shooks Run, they came upon two small boys, the sons of Thomas H. Robbins, who lived on the south side of the Fountain, not far away. These two boys, eight and ten years of age respectively, were looking after their father's cattle. They had evidently seen the Indians coming when some distance away, as they were using every possible endeavor to escape; but they had not gone far when the savages were upon them. It is said that one of the boys fell upon his knees and lifted up his hands, as though begging the Indians to spare his life, but the savages never heeded such appeals. Two Indians reached down, each seized a boy by the hair, held him up with one hand, and, using a revolver, shot him with the other and then flung the quivering, lifeless body to the ground.
The savages then continued rapidly down along the edge of the bluffs, to the north of Fountain Creek, and when at the south side of the present Evergreen Cemetery, attempted to capture some horses at the Innis ranch, in the valley a short distance away, but the presence of a number of armed men there caused them to desist after two or three futile dashes in that direction. Half a mile below this point, they met Solon Mason, a ranchman from the lower end of the county, accompanied by two or three other men. These men were all armed and, after two or three shots were exchanged, the Indians gave them a wide berth. At a ranch just below, occupied by George Banning, the Indians secured a few horses, after which they struck out over the plains to join the other band.
As I have already said, armed parties were going out every day from Colorado City to harvest the grain that had been ripe for some time. On that morning, I had joined a group that was to assist Bert Myers, a merchant of Colorado City, in harvesting a field of wheat on land now occupied by the town of Broadmoor. I was binding wheat behind a reaper, at a point not very far from the present Country Club buildings, when, about two o'clock in the afternoon, I saw a horseman coming from the east riding furiously in our direction. When he reached us we found that it was a Mr. Riggs, who lived near the mouth of Cheyenne Creek. He told us that the Indians were raiding the settlements in every direction, and were killing people, mentioning of his own knowledge Everhart, Baldwin, and the Robbins boys, and he thought a good many more; and also had run off a large number of horses. My first thought was that the Indians had come in during the previous night, concealed themselves in the underbrush along the creeks, and taken advantage of the time when most of the men were out in the fields, to attack, rob, and murder. I knew such a thing was possible, as there was no one living between our settlement and the Indian country to give us notice of the approach of a hostile band. It then occurred to me that my three small brothers, Edgar, Frank, and Charles, were looking after our cattle near the mouth of Bear Creek, and certainly were in great danger, if indeed they had not already been killed. I immediately secured permission to take one of the horses from the reaper, in order to ride in search of the boys. I quickly stripped off all the harness except the blind bridle, mounted the horse, and tore away in the direction of Bear Creek. As a matter of precaution, I had taken a revolver with me to the harvest-field as at this time few went out unarmed. After a ride at top speed, I met the boys about three-quarters of a mile south of Bear Creek.
My brothers told me that while eating their luncheon in the milk house near our dwelling on Bear Creek, they were alarmed by the excited barking of their dog. They ran out to see what was the matter, and, looking across on the present site of Colorado Springs, saw a group of horsemen whom they immediately knew to be Indians, pursuing another horseman, whom they at once conjectured was Charley Everhart. A moment later the band seemed to be grouped around some object, which doubtless was the time when the Indians were scalping young Everhart. The boys witnessed the savages race down over the flat in their pursuit of Baldwin, and while this was in progress, they counted the horsemen and found that there were thirty-five in the band. The boys then ran up the hill to the east of the house, heard the shot, and witnessed what I have already described concerning the shooting of Baldwin. They then saw the band divide, one party going out on the plains and the other down the creek. Becoming alarmed for their own safety, they had started to run to some of the neighbors on Cheyenne Creek, when I met them. As soon as I had heard their story, which assured me that the Indians had gone off to the east and that there was no immediate danger to the boys, I rode back to the harvest-field where we had abandoned the reaper, hitched to the wagon, and drove to town. Later in the afternoon, the Robbins family, whose two boys had been killed, as I have related, came by our Bear Creek ranch on their way to Colorado City, and took my brothers to town with them. By the time we reached Colorado City, the bodies of Everhart and the two Robbins boys had been brought in. The party that went after Baldwin found him alive, but supposed him to be mortally wounded. It was thought that he could not possibly live more than a day or two at most, but, to the surprise of everybody, in a short time he began to recover and in a month or so was apparently well again.
Of course, the excitement in Colorado City and throughout the county was intense. We knew that the Territorial authorities were unable to give us any help whatsoever, and that the general Government had turned a deaf ear to our appeals for protection. Consequently, we realized that we must again, as in 1864, rely solely upon ourselves. In this emergency we repaired the old fort around the log hotel, and organized our forces to the best possible advantage, in order to be prepared for any further attacks that the Indians might make. Only a few hours after the raid, a messenger came in from Bijou Basin, asking that men be sent to the relief of the Simpson party, which was surrounded by Indians near that point, as I have already told. After consideration of the matter, it was decided that our force was strong enough to spare a few men for that purpose. Accordingly, that night ten of us volunteered to go to the assistance of the besieged. For this expedition a Mr. Hall, who lived on what has since been known as the Pope ranch, loaned me an excellent horse and a Colt's rifle, a kind of gun I had never seen before nor have I seen one like it since. It was a gun built exactly on the principle of a Colt's revolver, the only trouble with it being that one never knew just how many shots would go off at once.