The mild profanity with which the tale was decorated can hardly be omitted without robbing it of its peculiar western flavor. Dan Trippe, who had been listening, finally said, "Mr. Soon, you referred a moment ago to Billy Comstock. Some of us also knew him very well. A few years ago Comstock was well known in Colorado."
"He was," replied Tom, "and he helped might'ly in that Sand Creek affair. Of course, we know him as Buffalo Bill."
Tom was asked to tell about that fight. "I know all about it," he replied, "but I don't know as it's right to tell the women about these Indian scalpings." Tom was assured that when women were out where things were going on, they were no more nervous than men were. They all had guns and ought to know the true condition of things.
"All right," said Tom. "Well, it was like this. A year ago last August the Indians began a series of raids, going for everything and everybody along the stage route from Julesburg east. I think they cleaned out every ranch and attacked every train and stage that passed in that two hundred and fifty or three hundred miles. More than forty people were killed by them. The most severe fight was at Liberty Farm, east of Fort Kearney near where you crossed the Little Blue River. There was a small train of wagons loaded with goods for George Tritch of Denver. The entire party of whites were killed, including a stage driver and the station keeper, and there was a young woman there named Mrs. Eubanks, and her child, whom they did not then kill, and the Indians run them off, and that is really what brought on the Sand Creek Battle. The Indians were Arapahoes. The people of Denver were greatly excited when the news reached there. Before his train was attacked Tritch had heard of the troubles, and having so many valuable goods coming along that line he talked with Colonel Chivington, and they arranged with Billy Comstock and Oliver Wiggins to go out at once, and ascertain where the Indians were, and what they were then planning to do. Billy went down the Republican River and Wiggins went down the Platte. They were good scouts and spoke Arapahoe well. Billy had been interpreter for the government several times. He knew many of the Chiefs. Billy's route was away from the line of travel. He overtook a large party of Arapahoes quite a way down the Republican, and after he had watched their movements for awhile, he run up to the Platte and reported, and then he went back and had a talk with the Indians. He kept watch on that band, but it was another party of Indians who made the raid that I have told of. After the Liberty Farm massacre, Comstock and Wiggins with a few soldiers from the Plum Creek Station started out and followed the Indians southward and overtook them. They saw the young woman riding behind Chief Two Face, and then Billy and his soldiers had a fight with the Indians, but the soldiers were greatly outnumbered and lost most of their horses.
"In November, Colonel Chivington started out with his forces and after one long night march, the scouts led them to Sand Creek, where they surrounded the Indian village and then the fight was on. It was a slaughter. Chivington said to his soldiers, 'Nits make lice,' which meant that it was a battle to the finish, and that they need not stop with the old Indians; women and children were to be killed as well.
"Some people criticized Colonel Chivington very bitterly, declaring that this warfare was brutal and uncivilized, but the people of Denver gave him a gold mounted rifle as a token of their good will. The Chief and three or four others escaped in the night with Mrs. Eubanks and they were caught later and strung up. The queerest thing about the hanging was that the Colonel of the troops who caught the Chiefs telegraphed to General Connor, in command of the department, that he had the devils in chains. General Connor replied, 'Then hang them in chains,' and it was done mighty quick. In a little time the Colonel received another message from General Connor, instructing him to bring the scoundrels to Julesburg, because he had decided to give them a trial. The Colonel telegraphed back to the effect that he 'obeyed his first message before he received the second.'"
When Tom had finished this recital, the camp fires had nearly all gone out on the shore of the river, and the bright moon was lighting up the southern slopes of the Sweetwater Mountains. Through the stillness of the night was heard the occasional bark of a few coyotes and its echo reflected from the adjacent mountain-side. Our party separated and slowly wandered along the river to their respective camps. The manner in which Cody wrested from Comstock the sobriquet Buffalo Bill, has been explained in another chapter.