“Round he throws his baleful eyes,
That witness naught but huge destruction and dismay.”—Milton.
At the time of the execution of Boone Helm and his four confederates in crime, Bill Hunter, as before narrated, managed to escape his pursuers and, for a time, to baffle the vengeance of the Vigilantes, by hiding among the rocks and brush by day, and then seeking food at night among the scattered settlements in the vicinity of the Gallatin river.
At the time of Barney Hughes’ stampede, the country in the neighborhood became alive with men, and his whereabouts was discovered. Information was received at Virginia that he was living as described about twenty miles above the mouth of the Gallatin. A severe snow storm had driven him to seek refuge in a cabin, near the place of his concealment, and here he was overtaken and captured.
A party of four resolute men volunteered for the work, and left Virginia City with a good prospect of fine weather for the trip before them. Crossing the Divide between the Stinkingwater and the Madison, they forded the last named river with some difficulty, the huge cakes of floating ice striking the horses’ flanks and threatening to carry them down. Their camping ground was the frozen earth on its banks; and having built a fire, they laid down to sleep with no shelter but their blankets. Though the weather was intensely cold, the spirits of the party never flagged, and they derived not a little amusement from occurrences which, under other circumstances, would have been regarded as anything but amusing incidents of travel.
One of the Vigilantes, determined on securing a good share of heat, lay with his head on the top of a hillock that sloped towards the fire, and, as a natural consequence, gradually slid down, till he woke with his feet in the hot embers. His position was changed with marvellous rapidity, amid the laughter of his comrades.
Another of the party had a pair of mammoth socks, into which he thrust his feet loosely. As the sleeper began to feel the cold, he kept pushing his feet into the socks, until he pushed himself out of bed, and woke half frozen. He glanced, with a comic expression, at the cause of his misfortunes, and taking a good warm at the fire, in a more legitimate fashion, he crept back to bed.
Early in the morning, the men rose from their slumbers; renewed their fire, and while some cooked, others hunted up the stock. Soon all was prepared, and dispatched with a mountaineers’ appetite; the horses were saddled and they departed on their mission. The weather had changed very much for the worse. At about ten o’clock a fierce snow storm, driven by a furious wind, blew right in their faces; but as the tempest was a most useful auxiliary towards the success of their enterprise, they pushed on, hour after hour, and, at 2 P. M., reached the Milk Ranch, about twenty miles from the place where they expected to find their game. Here they stayed for supper, and engaged a guide who knew the country well, and was acquainted with the locality of the robbers’ city of refuge. Being warmed and refreshed, they started at a rapid pace, which was continued until, at midnight, they drew bridle near a lone cabin, into which they felt certain that the severity of the storm had driven the object of their journey.
Having halted and unsaddled, they rapped loudly at the door. When it was opened, the gentleman who presented himself, took a view of the party, which, with the guide and a gentleman who had joined them, numbered six individuals. “Good evening,” was the salutation of the travellers. Sleep, suspicion, and an uneven temper, probably, jointly provoked the response, “Don’t know whether it is or not.” However, at their request, he soon had a fire blazing on the hearth, which the party thoroughly enjoyed, after their long ride. Before allowing themselves to be thus, even temporarily, luxurious, they had carefully inspected the premises and, as the lawyers say, all the appendages and appurtenances thereunto belonging; when, having found that the only practicable method of egress was by the door, a couple of them lay down in such a manner, when they retired to rest, that any one trying to escape must inevitably wake them. Six shot-guns constituted half a dozen weighty arguments against forcible attempts at departure, and the several minor and corroborative persuasions of a revolving class completed a clear case of “stand off,” under all circumstances.
A sentry was placed to see that nobody adopted the plan of “evaporation” patented by Santa Claus, that is to say, by ascent of the chimney. His duty, also was, to keep up a bright fire, and the room being tenanted to its utmost capacity, all promised an uninterrupted night’s slumber.
A very cursory inspection of the interior of the premises had satisfied the Vigilantes that the occupants of the cabin were three in number. Of these, two were visible; but one remained covered up in bed, and never stirred till the time of their departure in the morning. The curiosity of the inmates being roused by the sudden advent of the travellers, questions as to their names, residences, occupation and intentions were freely propounded, and were answered with a view to “business” exclusively. Before turning over to sleep, the party conversationally descanted on mining, stampeding, prospecting, runs, panning-out, and all the technical magazine of mining phrases was ransacked with a view to throwing their hosts off the trail. In this they succeeded. All was quiet during the night, and until a late hour in the morning. Every one of the friends of justice had exchanged private signals by Vigilante telegraph and were satisfied that all was right.