 AN INDIAN VILLAGE ON THE PLATTE. |
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CHAPTER XXII. INCIDENTS OF THE "OVERLAND."
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NLY
a few decades ago the country surrounding and adjacent to
Fort Kearney was the home of the once powerful tribe of
Pawnee Indians. The region a short distance west of this
important military post was occupied by a still more
powerful tribe of Sioux. Between the two tribes was a
stretch of intervening territory claimed by both. As might
readily be inferred, there was almost from the first
constant war between them. and this naturally diminished the
numbers of each tribe. But the Sioux in nearly every
engagement proved greatly superior to the Pawnees as
warriors, and were almost invariably victorious over them;
hence it was not long until the Pawnees were disposed to be
on friendly terms with the adjacent white settlers, though
the settlers were few in numbers.
The great military road laid out nearly a half-century ago from Fort Leavenworth to the Northwest, on which the overland stages ran in the '50's and '60's, passed through the counties of Leavenworth, Atchison, Nemaha, Marshall, and the northeast portion of Washington county, in Kansas; thence a little north westerly into Nebraska and along the Little Blue river, through Jefferson, Thayer, Nuckolls, the southwest corner of Clay, through Adams and Kearney counties, striking the Platte river at Hook's Station (since known as "Dogtown"), just east of the Fort Kearney military reservation; thence the line followed up along the south bank of the Platte, past Fort Kearney, through Phelps, Gosper, Dawson, Lincoln and Perkins counties, Nebraska, crossing the Colorado line a short distance east of old Julesburg. About 100 miles west of Fort Kearney was another military post, established in the fall of 1863, and christened Fort McPherson. It was located but a short distance from the south bank of the Platte, the foot-hills being a mile or so from the stage station. While the location did not appear to be a very good one, looking at it from a military standpoint, in a section of country occupied by many tribes of hostile Indians, nevertheless it proved to be a valuable post the year following its establishment, when the hostiles for several months, in 1864, had almost undisputed possession of the great overland stage and military wagon road. Fort McPherson was of great value during the Indian troubles of those days, but many years have passed since it, like Fort Kearney, was abandoned. The military reservation at Fort McPherson--a tract covering sixteen square miles--still exists as such. On the reservation is the old Government cemetery, containing a little over 100 acres. The graves in it cover several acres. A neat and substantially built brick wall surrounds the cemetery. The grounds are kept in order by a man specially employed by Government for that purpose. The cemetery is adorned by a number of monuments erected to the memory of the dead and honored heroes. While making his Government (sic) expedition across the country and along the Platte in 1843, Col. John C. Fremont celebrated the Fourth of July in that vicinity, a few miles west of Cottonwood Springs, but on the north bank of the South Platte, near the junction of the north fork, not far from Buffalo Bill's ranch, near where the prosperous town of North Platte is now located. |
As near as can be ascertained, the first building erected at Cottonwood Springs was in 1858. It was used as a trading ranch. The place derives its name from a spring, in the vicinity of which was quite a cluster of cottonwood trees, which appeared to thrive nicely while left undisturbed. But later the trees were rapidly thinned out by the army of pilgrims and freighters on their way up and down the valley along the great thoroughfare. Aside from the stage station, stables, grain warehouse, and a store or two, there never was much of a town at Cottonwood Springs. It was, however, during staging and overland freighting days, a valuable location; and, being only a short distance west from Fort McPherson, it was naturally thus made still more valuable. Cottonwood Springs was situated about midway between. the Missouri and the Rockies, near a great body of fine cedar, and was looked upon as an important point by all in early days who drove oxen and mules and traveled the overland route. It was especially important to the stage officials, for it was a "home" station and a depot of general supplies. There was also a telegraph office in the building, and it was the half-way point between Fort Kearney and old Julesburg. Much of the country between Fort Kearney and Cottonwood Springs was the home of the buffalo and antelope in the days of overland traffic, especially during the later '50's and early '60's. Often vast droves of the shaggy bison, numbering many thousands, could be seen along the line at different points. In the vicinity of Plum Creek appeared to be a favorite spot for them to roam. Their trails were in plain sight of there leading south into the sandy bluffs. That locality appeared to be the heart of the buffalo region on the Platte. While crossing the plains in the early '60's, we kept a close watch for buffalo in that vicinity. We seldom ate a meal between Fort Kearney and old Julesburg, in staging days, that was not made up in part of choice, juicy steaks or superb roasts cut from the wild, "crooked-back" oxen. Men in charge of the numerous trains of white-covered prairie-schooners lived largely on fresh buffalo meat, which was substituted for bacon and dry sides, while crossing the plains in those days. In 1866 an immense amount of damage was done by the savages, nearly every station between old Julesburg and Fort Kearney (excepting Plum Creek) being wiped out, and a large amount of grain, hay and other stage property destroyed. |
There was much trouble with the Indians for a long distance on the Platte in 1867, after the stage line had passed into the control of Wells, Fargo & Co. Nearly all the stations on the route for about 100 miles, between Julesburg and Bijou, having been burnt in the summer and fall of 1864, necessitating the erection of new buildings, these also were destroyed in 1867. Before stage traffic could be resumed it was necessary to again rebuild them. The last ones erected cost from $5000 to $7000 each. Everything on the Platte in the line of forage afterwards ruled high. Hay brought, in 1867, $125 a ton, while wood sold as high as $150 a cord. There was considerable trouble, also, in 1867, still farther west, up in the mountains, when the Indians made a raid on Bridger's Pass, killing six men and burning a number of stage stations. In 1868 there was occasional trouble with the Indians in the vicinity of Cottonwood Springs, on the route over which the Government mule freight-trains and the overland stages daily passed. It was natural for the Indians to steal and run off stock, not only from the ranchmen in the neighborhood, but from parties crossing the plains with their private outfits. It was a favorite pastime of the redskins to attack small numbers of white men, and their cowardly work was becoming of frequent occurrence. In the attacks a number of small parties were killed and scalped, their property stolen or destroyed, and their stock run off. The Indian war, as already mentioned, which began in the summer of 1864, greatly interfered with overland staging and freighting for several weeks. To continue traffic as matters then existed was almost an impossibility. As a precaution and for better protection, it was found necessary to station a few soldiers at frequent intervals for 300 miles along the south side of the Platte. The stage-coaches which carried the mail, trundling across the plains west of Fort Kearney, when the road was subsequently reopened, were attended by a small guard of mounted soldiers, who were detailed for that duty from the several military posts along the Platte. All other traffic on the plains having become practically ruined, the emigrant and freight outfits along the route were formed into large trains by uniting the individual outfits, and thus going on their way together. The men in these consolidated trains organized and drilled for their better protection. The most important thing was to provide themselves |
with suitable arms and ammunition. Being thus prepared for resisting attack, and always alert against surprise, they were able to resist, should occasion require, a considerable body of Indians. Outbreaks among the hostile tribes along the Platte continued at intervals all through 1869, but the two military posts within a distance of 100 miles changed the location of the trouble to the southward, along the head waters of the Republican river. The base of operations for the soldiers in that vicinity was at Fort McPherson, and General Carr was in command. Besides the regular mounted soldiers stationed at this post, there was a band of some 300 Pawnee Indians, in command of Maj. Frank North; and William F. Cody ("Buffalo Bill") had command of a band of scouts on the frontier. He was chief of the band, and under his guidance the pursuits after the Sioux were made. The Pawnees and Sioux were, as has been indicated, deadly enemies; hence it will be more readily understood why the former tendered their services to the Government and engaged in a war against the Sioux. This band of 300 Pawnees organized in 1867, and had by this time become the most thoroughly drilled soldiers on the frontier. But, like most Indians, they were a peculiar class of beings. They could not be induced to don the regular suit provided by "Uncle Sam," but dressed usually in a sort of combination garb, which they thought more appropriate, or, at least, that they imagined was better fitted to their individual and peculiar tastes. At a public gathering and dress parade the officers tried to show them off to the visitors to the best advantage as soldiers. The result was rather ludicrous. In his autobiography, Buffalo Bill, chief of scouts at the time, speaking of this "grand review" held on the grounds at the fort, in the hot summer weather--the mercury up to ninety in the shade--describes the 300 Pawnees as they appeard (sic) in "full dress," as follows: "The Pawnee scouts were also reviewed, and it was very amusing to see them in their full regulation uniform. They had been furnished with regulation cavalry uniform, and on this parade some of them had their heavy overcoats on; others their large black hats, with all the brass accouterments attached; some of them wore pantaloons, and others only wore breech-clouts. Others only wore regulation pantaloons but no shirt, and were bareheaded; others again had the seat of their pantaloons cut out, having only leggins; some wore brass spurs, but had neither boots nor moccasins. With all this melange of oddity, they understood the drill remark- |
ably well for Indians. The commands, of course, were given to them in their own language by Major North, who could talk it as well as any full-blooded Pawnee." After the Union Pacific railway was finished from Omaha to a point on the north side of the Platte adjacent to Fort Kearney, in the fall of 1866, staging along the "Overland" between Atchison and the old military post was done away with. Not only this, but the bulk of merchandise transported by the white-covered prairie-schooners continued to "grow small by degrees and beautifully less." Neither horses, mules nor oxen could compete with the iron horse in moving freight overland. The frequent stage stations were forever abandoned. The men who kept the trading posts at convenient distances were forced to abandon their premises and seek other localities. The advance of the Union Pacific was too rapid for the skulking savages. It is told that an engineer of a construction train, while on the plains coming around a curve, saw a body of hostile Indians waiting on each side of the road, a number of them being crowded closely together, forming what they deemed an obstruction on the track. In an instant the engineer comprehended the situation. To stop the train he knew was certain death to him and the entire crew; and he knew it meant a death preceded by those horrible atrocities almost invariably practiced by the red men. So, blowing the shrill whistle and opening wide the throttle, he pushed through the obstruction, and killed or crippled those who were not active enough to get out of the way. A shower of bullets greeted the rapidly moving train as it went thundering through their ranks, and an examination showed that the front part of the engine was red with blood. Some of the ranchmen, after the great tide of travel by team had been wiped out, and their home market thus destroyed, were forced to seek locations elsewhere. The continuous passing of freight wagons and stage and emigrant outfits ceased, and not one team could be seen where were hundreds in the palmy days of overland transportation. The modern and speedy, and vastly more comfortable, railroad-train had occupied the realm of the bull-whacker; the sharp crack of the driver's whip was lost in the shrill whistle of the locomotive; the thundering of great trains across the dusty plains soon scattered the skulking bands of Indians, and a day of progress was ushered in that. led rapidly |
up to the present extraordinary development of all the great states that constitute the trans-Missouri region. "Give us the latest war news" was a stereotyped phrase asked of the messenger and stage passengers on the plains hundreds of times during the exciting "unpleasantness" waging in the early '60's. Nearly all the parties then engaged in overland freighting were extremely anxious to learn everything they could regarding the movements of the contending armies. It was somewhat difficult in those days to get late and reliable news on the plains, for the first telegraph office reached after leaving Atchison was at Fort Kearney, on the Platte, more than 250 miles out, and thence west telegraph stations were about fifty miles apart. In the spring of 1863, I made up my mind that General Grant--who for a long time had been in the siege of Vicksburg--would occupy that city on the Fourth of July. Something told me that the nation's birthday anniversary was the most appropriate time for the consummation of such an important event. I intimated to a number of stage-drivers and others that, in all probability, the general would dine on the Fourth of July in Vicksburg. All knew at the time that Vicksburg was a city considered almost impregnable, and few could then realize that the place would be taken for months to come. As the stage was coming east from Denver, sure enough, on its arrival at Fort Kearney, in the afternoon, the glorious news was received by telegraph. At the station it was told to a load of stage passengers that the renowned military chieftain was occupying Vicksburg, and that the stars and stripes were floating over the great Mississippi stronghold. The occasion was the eighty-seventh anniversary of the nation's birth, and one that made all true Union men rejoice. After listening to the reading of the dispatch, every man who came down on the stage threw his hat into the air, and three rousing cheers were at once sent up for Grant and the Union. The steady advance of civilization long years ago drove the prairie-dog, like the shaggy bison, westward beyond the Mississippi and Missouri rivers. For many years the home of the little animal was almost exclusively on the plains and prairies between the "Big Muddy" and the Rockies. Much of that region having become partially settled, and the dogs naturally increasing in numbers, some of the animals seem to have emigrated. Their villages are now visible west of the Snowy Range--the dogs, ap- |
parently, having climbed over the mountains, and thousands are at this time making their homes on the western slope of the continental divide. During the later '60's I saw the prairie-dog villages along both the Atlantic and Pacific slopes of the Rocky Mountains. In the early '80's I noticed them on the western slope, in some places at an elevation of near 9000 feet above sea-level. Along the railroads stretching from the Missouri to the Rockies, their towns and cities can still be seen at intervals, where vast numbers of the little animals continue to make their homes. It is popularly supposed that of all burrowing animals the prairie-dog is the most worthless. That this supposition is erroneous may be guessed from the fact that a western Kansas man is said to be making a great success in buying and tanning prairie dog hides. He has been operating in a local way for some time, but not long since an order came to him from a New York house for hides, and now he expects to go into the business quite extensively. A newspaper published in the "short grass" region says: "And this is another important and reliable resource which has opened for Kansas. Procrastinated precipitation and predatory hexapods may destroy the corn and wheat, but the prairie-dog we have always with us. If we can take his hide and sell it to Eastern plutocrats, to be used in the manufacture of beaver muffs and sealskin sacks, we may laugh at hot winds and snap our fingers under the proboscis of the devastating chinch-bug." In the early '60's the little dogs were to be found in their abiding-places by the' thousands, and their presence even at this date shows that they still hold forth at the old location. Along the Platte, in overland staging days, we would go through occasional "towns"--in fact, "cities"--some of them many miles long. Often, when the dogs appeared, they would be the first animals of the kind the passengers ever set eyes on. If the passengers were of a sporting nature there would at once be fun ahead. The "towns" extended some distance to the north and south of the road. One after another of the passengers would yank out his six-shooter and forthwith begin peppering away from either side of the stage at the little dogs, that would sit up on their haunches by the side of their houses for a few seconds and, wagging their tails briskly, would keep up a lively barking at the passers-by, and, as the stage would be getting pretty close, then dodge quickly into their holes. |
Playing with a pet prairie-dog. It was not unusual at those times for
half a dozen passengers to be engaged at the same time in
the exciting pastime of blazing away at prairie-dogs only a
few rods distant. If any were so fortunate as to kill one of
the little animals, nine chances out of ten he would be
unable to get it, for, if shot, a prairie-dog instantly
rolls over into his hole and that is usually the last seen
of him. Underneath their towns, it is said, the earth is
completely honeycombed; that their paths run in all
directions, to every hole in their "town." To drown them out
by pouring water in their abiding-places is an
impossibility. |
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© 1999, 2000, 2001 for the NEGenWeb by Pam Rietsch, Ted & Carole Miller