XIX
THE SETTLERS FLEE FROM SPRINGFIELD
When quiet had reigned for some little time and darkness had fallen, there being no signs that the Indians would reopen their attack, the inmates of the Thomas cabin began to discuss the best course to pursue. It was the general belief that they would again be attacked if they remained: in fact they reasoned that to remain would be to invite an attack. But would not the soldiers from Fort Ridgely soon bring relief? And yet they had no means of knowing whether their messengers had ever reached that post. Having reached the fort, might not their story have been received in the same manner in which the people of Springfield had greeted the tale of Markham? No idea had been gained as to the numerical strength of the Indians: although they seemed to be about twelve in number, there was a possibility that they might be ten or twenty times as many, and well prepared to carry the attack through to a conclusive end.
Some suggested flight; but there seemed to be many obstacles to such a course. Nothing was known of the whereabouts of the Indians: they might be lurking near the cabin awaiting the appearance of its inmates for the purpose of picking them off as they came out. Again, they were more than fifty miles from any adequate place of refuge; while the nearest settlement was no less than fifteen miles away. But worst of all the snow was deep and there was not even a known trail upon the wintry wastes that could be followed with certainty. Moreover, there were among them three badly wounded people whose suffering would only be intensified by the cold and exposure incident to such a flight. And there were children in the party: would they be able to endure such a journey as flight would compel them to undergo? From the hardships encountered by Markham in his trip from the lakes it was known that a journey of fifty miles under the existing conditions of weather would be a hard trial of endurance, even for the strongest and most rugged person.
In the course of the discussion someone called attention to the fact that the Indians had driven away the Thomas horses. How were they to move Carver who was unable to walk and Thomas who was so weak that at best it was believed he could live but a short time? Carver was willing to be left behind if by so doing the safety of the others could be assured; but none of his companions were willing to consider such a proposition. When the thought of flight was about to be abandoned someone recalled that the Indians had not taken the Thomas oxen. If they had not been killed, they must be safe in the stable. Markham, who had twice before volunteered to risk his life, offered to go to the stable, and if the oxen were there hitch them to the sled and drive to the door.[202] Meanwhile, in the cabin preparations were to be made for flight.
When Markham returned to the cabin he reported that every thing seemed to indicate that the Indians had given up the attack and left the vicinity. He had been gone nearly half an hour, which led the people in the cabin to fear that he too had fallen a victim of Indian lust. And so they were overjoyed when he finally appeared at the door with the ox-drawn sled. Feather ticks were first taken to the sled and upon them the wounded Thomas, Carver, and Miss Swanger were placed. Around them were packed such articles as were deemed necessary upon the journey.
The night sky was obscured by clouds and the darkness was intense, which would make it possible for the fleeing settlers to elude the watchfulness of the Indians if any happened to be lurking in the vicinity of the cabin. About nine o’clock the nineteen frightened and wretchedly equipped refugees left the Thomas cabin.[203] Ahead of the oxen walked Markham, Bradshaw, and Palmer, with rifles in their hands, ready to protect the women, children, and wounded from possible attack. Then came the ox-drawn sled piled with feather beds, the wounded, blankets, bed-quilts, and provisions. Upon either side and behind the sled walked the women, carrying or leading the children.
Progress was slow since no distinct trail could be discerned in the darkness. Frequently they would stop and by signs and consultation assure themselves that they were moving in the proper direction. Often they missed the way and were compelled to alter their course. At two o’clock in the morning, having made an advance of only five miles, they concluded to halt and await the dawn.[204] Where they were they did not know. Blankets and bed-quilts were spread upon the snow; and upon these the women, children, and wounded lay down, while the men stood guard. With the coming of day the refugees again pushed forward, but found that they could make little headway because of the deep snow drifts through which the men had to break a way for the oxen and sled.
In less than an hour the party, finding further progress well-nigh impossible, decided to halt. After some deliberation it was decided to send Palmer ahead about ten miles to Granger’s Point for help. Palmer, having succeeded in making his way to the Point without incident, returned with George Granger, who very willingly brought his ox team to the rescue of the stranded settlers. A Mr. Addington also accompanied Palmer upon the return trip. When about a mile to the north of Granger’s place a man was observed on the open prairie. Addington jumped off the sled and started toward him. The man turned and ran, but was soon overtaken. He was found to be Dr. Strong of Springfield who had fled from the Wheeler cabin that same morning, supposing that his wife and children had been killed in the attack upon the Thomas cabin.
In the meantime the stranded settlers, thinking they saw Indians in pursuit, had left their wounded companions in the sled and taken to the open prairie in flight—an effort which greatly exhausted the women. Returning to the sled the march onward to Granger’s Point was resumed. After remaining here for two days to recuperate they continued their journey southward toward Fort Dodge.[205]