Among the packers were Messrs. John McCormick, M. T. Jones, William Sloan, John S. Rockfellow, J. M. Bozeman, Melanchthon Forbes, and Henry Branson,—energetic business men, who had accumulated a considerable amount in gold dust, which they took with them to make payments to Eastern creditors. Buckskin sacks, containing about eighty thousand dollars, were distributed in cantinas through the entire pack train, no one pair of cantinas containing a very large sum. Besides this amount, there was in a carpet-sack in one of the wagons, fifteen hundred dollars in treasury notes, enclosed in letters to various persons in the States, and sent by their friends and relatives in the mines.
The men in the train were well armed, and anticipated attack by the robbers at some point on the route, but they determined upon fighting their way through. Plummer had been on the watch for their departure a week or more before they left, and through his spies was fully informed of the amount they took with them. He made preparations for surprising them in camp after nightfall, on their second day out, well knowing that some would then be seated, others lying around their camp-fires, and still others spreading their blankets for the night. Two of the boldest men in the band, John Wagner, known as “Dutch John,” and Steve Marshland, were selected for the service. They followed slowly in track of the train. Coming in sight of the camp-fire in Black Tail Deer Cañon after dark on the evening appointed, they hitched their horses in a thicket at a convenient distance, and, with their double-barrelled guns loaded with buckshot, crawled up, Indian fashion, within fifteen feet of the camp. By the light of the fire, they were enabled to take a survey of the party and its surroundings. The campers were dispersed in little groups engaged in conversation, ignorant of the approach of the robbers, but fully prepared to meet them. Mr. McCormick, who had done some friendly services for Ives, was warned by him, when on the eve of departure, not to sleep at all, never to be off his guard, nor separate from his comrades, but to keep close in camp until after they had crossed the range. As soon as the robbers comprehended the situation, they withdrew to the thicket and held a consultation. Wagner, the bolder of the two, proposed that they should steal again upon the campers, select their men, and kill four with their shotguns, it being quite dark; that they should then, by rapid firing, quick movements, and loud shouting, impress the survivors with the belief that they were attacked by a numerous force in ambush.
“They will then,” said Wagner, “run away, and leave their traps, and we can go in and get them.”
This scheme, none too bold or hazardous for Wagner to undertake, presented a good many embarrassments to the more timid nature of his companion. Bold as a lion at the outset, he now found his courage, like that of Bob Acres, “oozing out of his fingers’ ends.” The more Wagner urged the attack, the stronger grew his objections, until at length he flatly refused, and the experiment was abandoned until the next morning.
The campers knew nothing of this. One by one they sank to rest, and arose early the next morning to pursue their journey. While seated around the camp-fire at breakfast, near a sharp turn in the road, their attention was suddenly arrested by a voice issuing from the thicket, uttering the following ominous words:
“You take my revolver and I’ll take yours, and you come right after me.”
In a twinkling every man sprang for his gun and cocked his revolver. The sharp click, that “strange quick jar upon the ear,” probably satisfied the robbers that they had been overheard, for in a few moments after up rode Wagner and Marshland, with their shotguns thrown across their saddles, ready for use. The confused expression of the robbers when they saw that every man was prepared for their approach, betrayed their criminal designs. Recovering themselves in a moment, Marshland, who recognized Sloan, in a friendly tone called out,
“How do you do, Mr. Sloan?”
“Very well, thank you,” replied Billy, laying particular stress upon the complimentary words, the significance of which would have been more apparent, had he known that Marshland’s cowardice the night before had probably saved his life.
The road agents inquired if the party had seen any horses running at large, or whether they had any loose stock in their train.