Colonel Johnston was sorely disappointed at this desertion by his allies. He had relied upon their co-operation; but that reliance had proved delusive. When the friendly Indians had mounted, they parted with every manifestation of deepest friendship; and, for my part, I felt deep regrets at the separation. We had long been together, and were really getting attached to each other. Before leaving, many of them embraced me affectionately; and the Tonchues insisted on my accompanying them, their chief, Placido, desiring me to teach his young men how to read and write. "If you will do this," said he, "I will give you all my ponies when I die;" all his wealth was in these animals, the number owned by him being about four hundred. I informed him that I would go to his village at some other time; but at present I could not accompany him.
"No," they said, "we will never see Cah-hah-ut[4] again."
Six of the Indians, notwithstanding the determination of the main body, determined to remain with us, and share our fortunes. They were, "Jack," a Shawnee; "Black Foot," a Delaware; "Neighbors," a Kechai, and "Yellow Wolf," a Tonchue; "John," a Kiowa, and "John Socie," a Cherokee. These men were faithful to us throughout, and only left the command when discharged by order from the government. They were certainly devoted to us, and were ever ready to take their part in the hardships of the campaign, and endure all the privations incident to it. But these Indians were exceptions to the general rule.
CHAPTER X.
COL. JOHNSTON'S COMANCHE CAMPAIGN—A GREAT FAILURE—FRIGHTFUL SUFFERING OF THE RANGERS.
Not deterred by the desertion of our allies, Colonel Johnston determined to set out on the campaign. At first our march was in the direction of Red river; but when near the source of that stream we turned in the direction of the head waters of the False Washita, where we engaged in another hunt for wild horses, which resulted in the capture of a number of fine ponies—just what we most needed, as many of our animals had been worn out by campaigning. Perhaps, however, ours was not altogether a fair game, as we fell in with the herd when nearly run down by the Indians; and hence we had little difficulty in securing our prey.
We saw the savages and horses coming over the prairie at full speed, but they could not see us; and discovering that there was but a small party, we formed in a circle, under cover of a hill, and immediately in front of the horses; and, as the herd passed, we dashed in between them and their pursuers. At the first sight of us, the Indians wheeled and fled. For myself, I noosed a beautiful strawberry roan mare, with a white croup, covered with black spots; but she was fat, and strong, and snapped my lariat, carrying away the larger portion of the rope. I need not here repeat the language I used when she escaped me; suffice it to say, my reflections were not of the most pleasant character, and I am afraid I gave vent to words more expressive than elegant.