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Reprinted from the Omaha Daily Bee, February 17, 1890.

   R. W. Hazen, who was captain of a company organized at Fremont in 1858, for the protection of the settlers from Indian depredations in those early days, contributes to the Tribune of that city the following interesting account of what is known as the Pawnee war:
   In giving to the reader a history of the Pawnee expedition in July, 1859, I feel a degree of hesitancy. In the first place I take into consideration in the introduction the habits and character of the Indians and what the Pawnee Indians had to contend with-their natural enemy, the great Sioux nation.
   In the winter of deep snow, in 1833, the Sioux in large numbers came down upon their village on the south side of the Platte river, opposite what was once known as "the Lone Tree" station, now Central City, pouncing upon them, butchering a large number, not even sparing the squaws or papooses, and no doubt the intention was to exterminate them, or at least weaken their tribe. The next great loss was their ponies, driven away by the Sioux at the same time. With their depleted numbers they removed to Southern bluffs, south of the Platte river, about three miles from Fremont.
   The Pawnees were ripe for revenge and made raids upon the Sioux for ponies to replenish their stock, and to more securely hold them made a large stockade in the center of their village for the night.
   In the summer of 1858, twelve of the young bloods of the Pawnees started out on the warpath, evidently to steal ponies, smarting under the whip of their defeat in former years. Going to the far westward the eagle eye of the Sioux sighted them and divining their object, they turned loose at night the same number of old horses they lately had taken. In the morning the Sioux found their trail, and overtak-




ing them, killed eleven of the Pawnees, and slitting the ears of the twelfth into shreds, sent him home to tell the tribe what had become of the others. The wailing of the tribe was heard at Fremont. On the last days of June, 1859, the Pawnees being menaced by the Sioux, and making preparations to go on their buffalo hunt, they moved to the north side of the river with their families and effects. The next day they had the discomfiture of seeing the principal part of their village, which had taken years to build, go up in smoke. Their council house, measuring sixty feet in diameter, was destroyed at this time.
   The next day the tribe began to move their slow length along at the rate of fifteen or twenty miles a day. It was their usual custom to rise early in the morning and travel until midday and then rest themselves and stock for the next day's journey. Arrangements had been made, with the Omaha tribe to meet them somewhere upon the Elkhorn river to give the tribes more strength against the Sioux in case necessity. required it.
   On the 29th the Pawnees camped on Cuming creek, and on that day and the next they made a raid upon Captain Thomas S. Parks' herd of cattle. Captain Parks had taken up quite a tract of fertile land, and before settling had purchased in Ohio a lot of thoroughbred stock. Most of this stock was killed or wounded as well as the other cattle in the herd. The loss was heavy, amounting to $1,100 or $1,200.
   The loss could hardly be endured among the settlers of that early day. The word went around and the people became aroused at the situation.
    As the Pawnees passed up the Elkhorn valley they continued their depredations, taking cattle and robbing families of their scanty supplies. At De Witt their depredations came to an end. Before this, word had been sent to Governor Black, then governor of the territory, for the protection of the settlers. Twenty-five men offered their services and went to DeWitt just in time to save the people and property of the last settlement. An engagement took place in which three Indians were shot and Dr. Peters wounded. The only alternative for the settlers and soldiers was to hustle themselves with their little effects and leave as fast as possible, in which they were successful, though they had been spied at the Pawnee camp



and were discovered catching their ponies, supposedly for an attack. The word went around and one can imagine the feeling of the people of the territory. Major General John M. Thayer was soon at Fontenelle, bringing word from Governor Black, then at Nebraska City, to rendezvous at the above place and call for a volunteer force of men to chastise the Indians. Word came to Fremont July 2d, from General Thayer asking for a volunteer force which should he ready when called for.
   A meeting was called and the citizens responded to the call nobly. Additions came from North Bend and Maple Creek. The Fremont volunteer company consisted of forty men. They elected officers as follows: Captain, R. W. Hazen; first lieutenant, William West; second lieutenant, Henry Campbell; orderly sergeant, James Lee; wagon-master, W. F. Reynolds.
   The formation of the company took quite all the available men in our little place and vicinity, leaving only a handful of men to protect our families, though we had no fears, as there was no enemy in the rear. And here it might not be out of place to mention the heads of families: Rev. and Mrs. I. E. Heaton, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Kittle, Mrs. Margaret Turner, Mr. and Mrs. George Turner, Mr. and Mrs. R. W. Hazen, Mr. and Mrs. J. C. Flor, Mr. and Mrs. E. H. Rogers, Mr. and Mrs. L. W. Reynolds, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Moorland and Mr. and Mrs. J. G. Smith. All lived in log houses except Mr. Heaton and family. E. H. Barnard and Herman Kountze also occupied a cabin.
   When we were celebrating our natal day, the Fourth of July, General Thayer dispatched a messenger, Lieutenant George Hepburn, ordering us to rendezvous at Jalappa, on Maple creek, the next day. Upon arriving at the appointed place we met General Thayer and staff, Captain Ford and artillery of Omaha and Captain Kline of Fontenelle with about forty men. General Thayer immediately inquired about our provisions, and we were directed to have our wagonmaster return to Fremont and get at least two weeks' provisions.
   This day was well occupied in marching and counter marching, exercising the manual of arms and loading at three commands, which was much needed with raw recruits. In the meantime General Thayer received a message from Governor Black to make slow marches until his arrival. The next day, the 6th, we moved on to a




point of ground near J. B. Robinson's mill. Before evening, Governor Black came up with quite a force and was saluted with a hurrah. The force consisted of Lieutenant Robinson, United States army. with nineteen mounted men, and Major General Curtis, United States army, and Captain Kennedy, of Florence, with a company of mounted horse. We then numbered all told not exceeding two hundred men, but well equipped for the emergency. The governor thought a complete organization of officers should be made for our batallion, and it was, as follows: Major General Thayer, commander; General E. Esterbrook, of Omaha, adjutant general; Major Curtis, inspector general; Lieutenant R. N. Robinson, lieutenant colonel. Each captain retained his position as captain of big company, excepting Sergeant Robinson, who was made commander of the United States dragoons. Dr. Peek, of Omaha, was appointed army surgeon. A complete organization having been made, on the 8th we took up our line of match, making from twenty-five to thirty miles per day, following, the Indian trail in its meandering.
   There was nothing to mar our feelings and the boys were jubilant and resolute, and many were speculating upon booty - the number of ponies they would take back to pay them for the. expedition. Daily we found signs of the nearer approach of the Indians, and on the 12th in the afternoon, we spied a small group of tepees at a distance. It proved to be a camp of the Omaha tribe. From one of the Omahas we learned that the Pawnees were in camp some eight or ten miles in advance. Making friends with him and persuading him to keep the matter of our intentions a secret, he was sent forward to the Omaha camp to instruct them to part from the Pawnees in the morning on seeing us coming. The order was carried out.
   General Thayer visited his men in the evening, ordering them to be ready for the march at 2 o'clock in the morning. Under the excitement but very few closed their eyes that night, not knowing what the morning might bring forth. At 2 o'clock the bugle sounded the reveille. The men and teams were soon ready; we started in more than usual quick. time to reach the Indians before daylight and in their camp. We reached their camp just as the sun was rising in the East. They, hearing the rumbling sounds of the train, quite all had left in a hurry, leaving their pots and kettles boiling their soups upon the crotches and poles. A detention of



thirty minutes occurred here in filling up the creek for our train to pass (now called Battle creek). We soon got under way again. In the haste of the Indians to get away they had cut loose their baggage and tent poles which lay promiscuously over the prairie. We went about three miles when we arrived on a rise or mound near the Elkhorn. A half mile away was the main body of the Pawnees and fifteen or twenty rods in our advance lay five or six hundred of the red skins in a dry creek, or draw, armed to do battle with bow and arrows. They had divested themselves of clothing, only wearing their moccasins and a breech-clout. All was excitement, as we had formed in line with our respective companies for the emergency, and at this moment Carrow-na-Sharrow, the head chief, came riding up. Sergeant Robinson fired his revolver at him, wounding his pony in the neck, no doubt to bring on an action. At this point the chief threw away his bow and arrows, saying: "Me no fight; me been to Washington; me saw the great father; me no fight." During this time Governor Black rode up and ordered no gun to be fired without his orders, though the match had been lit for the cannon, and men in readiness. At this instant one of the other chiefs had displayed the stars and stripes.
   They had been taught when they formed a treaty at Washington in 1857, that the stars were an emblem of the United States and on presenting the flag they then received an opposing foe as an enemy to the United States.
   A parley ensued. The reader can picture to himself the line of defense, and our foe upon a plateau of the Elkhorn. Some upon our right had swum the river, mounting the bluff; others escaping for dear life were crossing the prairie and mounting the bluff half a mile to our left, and when our troops found there would be no fighting, for their blood was up, there was no little cursing and swearing, when they remembered the attrocities and thefts of the Pawnees.
   The chiefs made their appearance, carrying the stars and stripes unfurled, for a consultation. All were trembling with fear and shaking like an aspen leaf. The governor then told them, through an interpreter, his object and the depredations they had committed upon the inhabitants, their friends. Searade-ne-Sal, their former chief and orator, made a speech through the interpreter, of great length, striking his breast with his fist at almost every word to confirm his state-




ments. He stated in his remarks that he thought his force sufficient to wipe as out of existence; "but," said he, "what is the use? The great father at Washington would send his men by thousands and wipe us off the face of the earth." Admitting the depredations which had been committed upon the inhabitants, he merely referred to their want and poverty. He agreed to pay all the sufferers and the expenses of the expedition. Governor Black here demanded that the desperadoes be given up who had been foremost in the depredations, and six were turned over, one of whom was wounded through the breast. Things being settled as fairly as could be, the command retraced their steps (many though reluctantly) recrossing Battle creek to a bluff in the vicinity, where there was plenty of wood and water, to rest up for the day.
   In the afternoon the writer had occasion to reconnoiter a little over the prairie, when he met two well known persons with the wounded Indian. It was hinted at afterwards that the Indian was left in a secluded place with his blanket for a winding sheet.
   On the morning of the 14th, being refreshed, the command started in a southerly direction, the five Indian prisoners securely bound, following in the rear of the train and a guard following to watch them. In the morning we struck the Pawnee trail in a southerly direction to reach Beaver creek. At noon we passed the camp of the Pawnees and Omahas.
   A short distance after passing the camp, a halt was made for reasons which were never understood. A squaw had been noticed following the young bloods, and at an opportune moment she severed their bonds and they bounded forth simultaneously. Marshal West, then marshal of the territory, followed two of them toward their camp, shooting one of them in the back, he threw up his hands and fell prostrate to the ground. Mr. Moorland, of the F. V. company, was not so successful. Following the prisoners and shooting at them, one ball penetrated the Omaha camp, wounding one of their number. On account of the excitement and commotion, the batallion was ordered into line for defense. Before the command was in line an Omaha came rapidly up, dressed in citizens clothing, probably the chief, informing General Thayer that one of his men had been wounded. Mr. Moorland was obliged to give the Omaha his horse.
   Leaving their camp we passed on and in the afternoon reached



Beaver creek; men and horses rather famished and thirsty. Our horses were changed occasionally from the saddle to the harness. The wagon horses being without grain for a number of days had become greatly weakened. When descending towards Beaver creek, we could see the Sioux Indians in groups probably to intercept the Pawnees on their march. On the morning of the 15th, we took more of an easterly direction, following down the valley of Beaver creek, thinking more of our families and friends. Nothing occurred to cause any displeasure during the day, and the next, the 16th, before noon, we passed through Genoa. At this date the government had men, employed erecting buildings for the Pawnees, school houses, grist mills, saw mills and other buildings, for their reception. At evening the command reached Columbus.
   Now the Pawnee expedition was at an end. On the 18th of July we reached our respective homes and were happy to find our families in good health. But the result of our following the redskins was unfortunate. Our corn fields had required our attention and the result was not more than half a crop. But there was an advantage gained. The Pawnees were whipped. They ever afterward respected the white people and their rights as citizens of Nebraska.
   It has been more than thirty years since the event and it may not be out of place to make some remarks in relation to the living and dead comrades.
   Governor Black was succeeded as governor in 1860; returned to Pennsylvania, raised a regiment in 1861, rose to brigadier-general, and was killed, I think, at Gettysburg.
   Major General J. M. Thayer is our worthy governor, and resides at Lincoln.
   Major Curtis rose to major general during the rebellion, and died in Council Bluffs.
   General E. Esterbrook, resides at Omaha.
   Captain Ford, of the artillery, is dead.
   Captain Kennedy died at Florence.
   Captain Kline, of the Fontenelle volunteers, is dead.
   Dr. Peck, our army surgeon, is dead.
   Lieutenants William West and Henry Campbell, of the Fremont volunteer company, are dead.
   George Turner, of Fremont volunteer company, is dead.




"Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend;
The world's an inn and death the journey's end." - DRYDEN.

   Most of the Fremont volunteer force at the time were young men and. those living now wear the frosty looks of age. Of Moorland it was reported he drove off some ponies from the Pawnees when they were upon their reservation. They found the trail toward Nebraska City. They took up their stock, killing Moorland on the prairie and leaving his flesh for the wolves and his bones to bleach in the sun.
   We left the Pawnees between the Elkhorn and Beaver creek valleys. Their hunting was in the Sioux country, as the buffalo had been driven back by the white settlers, consequently their natural enemy, the Sioux, were contesting every inch of ground in their direction.
   At Wood river, near Fort Kearney, they had a battle depleting their numbers and Carrow-na-Sharrow received a wound; lingering a few days he passed to his happy hunting ground.
   Being nearly famished for the want of food, about one hundred at night fall stole away from the eagle eye of the Sioux, going south into the buffalo country and in three days returned with their ponies loaded down with most. In the early fall the Pawnees returned to harvest their corn, preparatory to going to their reservation; first finding out how well they were received by the people of Fremont. Finding them friendly and not enemies, they had permission to cache their corn in the limits of the place until winter or spring, taking their time to remove it.
   In 1858, the Pawnees, were enumerated by the government and numbered 3,700. When they left the reservation for the Indian Territory in 1876, their number was a little over 2,600 By good authority, in 1887, they only numbered between ten and eleven hundred.



[From the Omaha Republican, January 29,1888.]

   It was the pleasure of a Republican representative a few evenings since to listen to a number of well told reminiscences which were recounted by Captain G. M. Bailey, of this city. Captain Bailey, who was a private in the late war, and was taken prisoner, confined in Libby prison, and afterward paroled, came to Omaha when it was hardly a good-sized town. There were no railroads at that time entering this city. Communication with the outside world was had by means of a stage line to St. Joseph, thence by steamboat to St. Louis, and it was over this route, after many mishaps, that the captain first reached Omaha. Not long after he was, on account of ill-health, placed in the commissary department, with the rank of captain. It was while he was serving in this capacity that the incident we relate occurred. We give it as it came from his lips:
   "In the spring of 1866, while I was assistant commissary on the staff of General Wheaton, then in command of the district of Nebraska, I received orders to go to the Pawnee reservation to muster out a battalion of Indians who had been enlisted under Major North to fight the Sioux, and who were at that time raising a great rumpus throughout the northwest. To carry out the order it required that 1, with the army paymaster and our assistants, should traverse a distance of something over a hundred miles, through a region infested with desperadoes, in a lumbering army ambulance. It was on a bright and beautiful morning - in April, if I am not mistaken - when we left Fort Omaha, on what was destined to be an eventful trip. The Ambulance contained four of us - Major Olmsted, the paymaster, his clerk, my clerk and myself. The driver and a mounted escort of




three made up the party. Our ambulance was drawn by four snow-white horses, perfect beauties, that were the pride of General Wheaton. Fremont was then the first station west of Omaha and was our objective point for the first day. We reached there without incident, but hungry and stiff front our long journey. We were thirsty, too, and right here let me tell you that I did not know what a really good drink was until that night. You see, Major Olmsted was one of those good old Germans whose love of the national beverage had not been lost when he left the fatherland, and when he learned that there was a barrel of beer at the station, he set about to concoct what he termed a "Flip." He first beat up some eggs in a big tin bucket, filled it up with beer and stirred the whole with a red hot poker. To us, tired as we were, it was nectar fit for the gods, and the Fremonters, learning of the extra occasion, dropped in and kept the jolly Major busy making flips, until it was about as merry a party as you can imagine, There are several of that party left, and I'll wager that the memory of that night is a green oasis in a pretty generally barren desert."
   "Next morning we started for the reservation; which was located near Genoa. It was the counterpart of the previous day in spring loveliness. Not a cloud in the bright sky. Not a soul did we meet as we travelled along, and we were congratulating ourselves that were to make a safe journey. About 5 o'clock in the afternoon we passed a ranch, one of the few in that part of the state at that time. Tethered in front of the ranch stood as noble a piece of horseflesh as I had ever set my eyes upon. He was a beautiful coal black fellow, as trimly built as a racer, and we all fell so greatly in love with him at first sight that we stopped to look him over. It was not until we had gone on some distance that I remembered that I had heard that just such a horse was in the possession of the leader of a band of marauders who had made much trouble in that section. The thought came over me in an instant that the presence of the horse on our route meant serious trouble for its. Major Olmstead laughed at me at first, but when I related some of the gang's exploits he became nervous and displayed the first signs of fear I had ever been able to detect in his nature. I stopped the ambulance and gave the escort orders to keep a sharp lookout, both ahead and in the rear, and then we started on as fast as we could, hoping to make Columbus before the gang could get together. About half an hour later one of the



escort rode up alongside and told me that the horse with a rider was coming up the trail behind us. Looking back I saw the beautiful steed coming toward us with the speed of a whirlwind, it seemed. I felt that there was trouble brewing, and had all our weapons examined and saw that there were plenty of cartridges in readiness for use.
   The fact was well known that the Pawnees were to be mustered out and paid off, and it was also known that the money would have to be brought overland by the paymaster. Our conveyance was therefore a signal that the money was coming for everyone knew who drove the four white horses. I was aware that the desperadoes would have no twinges of conscience if they could capture our money bags, and they would not hesitate to shoot us down like dogs if it were necessary to secure the money. So you will understand why I was suspicious and even fearful. When about half a mile in our rear, the rider veered off the trail and swept around to the South-west and passed us, coming up to within a short distance of the trail ahead of us. He halted on a little knoll alongside the trail, and when we were about three hundred yards away, he dismounted, dropped on one knee behind a rock and commenced to pump shots from a Henri rifle at us. We were in for it. One of the first shots hit one of the ambulance horses in the log and disabled it. Now, I was perfectly well aware that this one man would never capture our party and that any man would be a fool who would attempt such a thing; but I was also well aware that within probably ten or fifteen miles there were many other members of the gang, and I divined, rightly, I think, that this man's object was to disable us and delay us until he could get reinforcements. Meanwhile the bullets were being poured in on us as rapidly as the Henri could speak, and our return fire was unavailing. We were armed only with army revolvers, and the long range destroyed their effect. Ordering the escort to charge the desperado, I climbed out of the ambulance and unhitched our disabled horse. Did the escort capture the fellow? Well, no. When they came within range of him, he coolly mounted and dashed off at a rate with which our tired horses could bear no comparison. When at a safe distance he halted again, and the guard returned to the ambulance. Hitching one of the escort's horses in place of the disabled one, we started on."




   Well, when we had again come within range of that follow, he repeated his former dose of Henri bullets, and we again charged him and drove him further up the trail. I realized that the only thing that would save us was to keep moving toward Columbus, in hopes of reaching there before the gang would have time to reinforce their leader. The Shell creek country was so full of desperadoes at that time that I knew that in a short time the shots would be heard by some of the gang, and that the result would be our capture. We proceeded in this way the rest of the distance to Columbus. A charge, a hurried mounting and flight by the assailant, a slow following by the ambulance and another fusilade of bullets. The sides of the ambulance and the hubs and spokes were filled with bullet holes, but strange to say none of the shots took effect on either the horses or the party, after the disabling of the first horse in the beginning of the fight.
   "Finally we reached Columbus about 8 o'clock that night, in pretty bad condition, I assure you. That fellow had dogged us until within sight of the town and had then made off over the hills. Sheriff Becker (I think that's his name) was one of the first to greet us. When be heard of our experience, he at once mustered a posse and gave chase, our escort accompanying them, and about eighteen hours later they succeeded in finding the headquarters of the gang and captured them. But they did not capture him of the beautiful horse, and I never saw either of them afterward. The gang was broken up, however, much to the relief of the settlers in the Shell Creek region.
   "We went to Genoa the next afternoon, and the succeeding day paid off and mustered out the Indians. Our party had the pleasure of witnessing the novel war dance and other Indian ceremonies, and in the evening we were taken to the dormitory of the Indian school to see the little 'Injuns' sleeping. We went into the dormitory, and to our surprise found not a bed occupied. Then, after enjoying our amazement, the principal took us to a window opening on the piazza and showed us the little fellows, wrapped in blankets, sleeping peacefully in the open air, beneath the full moon's gentle rays. It seems they preferred the hard side of a plank and a blanket to the soft beds of the dormitory, and I sometimes think that their tastes, not ours, are after all correct."



   "How did we come to be so nearly unarmed, you ask? Well, that's something I could never satisfactorily explain to myself. It was simply a foolish bit of carelessness. Why, if that fellow had succeeded in disabling us so that we could not proceed to Columbus, we should have been at his mercy. He could easily have called his gang together and compelled us to give up the money, or - well, perhaps I shouldn't be here to tell this story. You can be sure that the next trip I took we were armed with rifles. I am not particularly possessed of fear, but I don't like to court death by traveling unarmed in an infested region, particularly when there is treasure aboard.


   BY A C. BEAM.

   Being in St. Louis in the spring of 1852, without any special object in view, and seeing a steamer firing up to make the trip to St. Joseph, Missouri, the thought struck me to make the trip, thinking that I might wander to the Pacific coast.
   In less than half an hour I was on board with passage paid.
   Coming up the Missouri I made the acquaintance of the Post Quartermaster of Fort Leavenworth, who proffered me employment, and gained my consent. Upon landing and finding myself at home among the soldiers, the second day I was again enlisted for five years in the First Regiment, Dragoons, U. S. A., June 1, 1852,
   With these  *  *  *  remarks we will now confine ourselves to the country bounded as follows: On the east by Minnesota, Iowa Missouri river and Missouri; south by the Indian Territory; west, the Rocky mountains; north, the British possessions. All within these bounds was called Nebraska at the date of my entrance.
   About the last of June or the first of July, Company B, First Regiment, U. S. A. Dragoons, was ordered to proceed to and along the Arkansas river, to protect the travel and keep the road open between Independence, Missouri, and Santa Fe, New Mexico. Passing southwest, crossing the Stranger and the Grasshopper, we struck the Kaw river at a ferry about fifty miles from the place of starting, near the lower missionary establishment. The country passed over made one of the most beautiful panoramas I had ever seen, and the best agricultural part of the present state of Kansas.
   Here we met our first Indians, about thirty Pottawatomies, the first I had seen, though the Kickapoos were nearer Leavenworth. They made no prepossessing appearance in my view. They were called semi-civilized. Crossing the Kansas river and continuing



southwest to the intersection of the road from Independence to Santa Fe, on to Council Grove, we passed some very broken country with beautiful valleys, susceptible of bountiful production whilst the ridges look barren. At the Grove was a missionary school, with a large and beautiful stone building, belonging to the Baptist denomination. Proceeding we passed a more level but less fertile country. At Cow creek we saw our first buffalo, and the country was alive with there for seventy-five miles up the Arkansas river. From the highest elevation, where the eye could sweep over a radius of twenty miles, nothing was to be seen but buffalo. I have no doubt but each square mile on an average contained two thousand of them. The year previous the troops passing over the same country had to bring a battery of artillery to play on them to save their train and open the way. It is a curious feature of theirs that they will always pass a moving object to the front.
   Passing up the river one hundred and twenty-five miles, we arrived at what was called Fort McKey; dried mud shelters for the men and a trading post for Indians. Here we spent some two months or more with the Kiowas, camped near by. These Indians were great horsemen, and would run races, bet their tepees and everything they had on their favorite horse. Besides they were superb with the bow. I have seen one of them send an arrow clear through a buffalo at fifteen paces; and he got his meat in the river. Another curiosity to me was the burial of their old chief. He was placed in the ground in a sitting position with bow and arrows by his side, and some buffalo meat; then covered with robes and earth until there was a large mound; after which they led his war horses around his grave, and then pierced them to the heart with a long lance, and had them fall on his grave, to the number of thirteen. After which the whole tribe made the circle and cut off some of the hair from their ponies tails and threw it on his grave. Next came the squaws in almost a nude condition with knife in hand, going around the same, howling, and cutting their arms. and breasts Until their bodies were covered with blood, keeping up their lament all the while. Sickening of the scene, we turned away in disgust, and not long after they all went to their camp; but kept mourning for many nights after.
   We made a week's trip up the river; and whilst gone, eight Paw-




nees came out spying for a raid, and finding the 'Rapahoes camped on the river in two villages about three miles apart and their horses grazing between, they took the most favorable opportunity and stampeded the horses, and ran off most all, not leaving them enough to follow. They were mad and threatened to go to the Pawnee village and annihilate them. It was amusing to see their gestures and learn through an interpreter, what they said; and sure enough the following spring they got allies among the Cheyennes, Comanches, and Prairie Pitches, and started to execute their threat. The Pawnees, learning of their designs, traded ponies for arms and recruits among the Kickapoos, Wyandots, Otoes, Pottawatomies, and most likely the Omahas, met them on the Smoky Hill fork of the Kansas river, and whipped them badly - very badly. It is the writer's opinion, that the Pawnees were the greatest thieves and the bravest Indians west of the Missouri. They were always at war with the Sioux and frequently with other tribes. Previous to my entering into Nebraska, they gave the government troops a great deal of trouble by their thieving propensities.
   In the fall we returned to winter quarters at Leavenworth by the same route, crossing Kansas a little higher up. Shortly after returning twelve or fifteen of us were ordered to escort Major Ogden and three other officers to the junction of the Smoky Hill and the Republican fork of the Kansas river, for the purpose of choosing a site and laying off a Fort. Passing a little more to the north and west of our usual route, we struck the river higher up, continuing up the north side to our destination, passing St. Mary's mission - a Catholic institution. If I remember right it was a nunnery. The following day I was ordered to take five men and three teams and go back to the mission for corn. We felt much elated to think that we would get something to eat, for we had had no vegetables all summer; but we had to work hard shelling corn for three days and only shelled one hundred and twenty-five bushels. The priest in charge would come and invite us to meals which were anything but inviting. If a soldier's mess room in barracks was as filthy, some one would be walked to the guard house. Before we got back to camp we suffered much with cold, and snow had fallen six inches deep; but it was cheering to find the boys sitting around rousing fires, with numbers of wild turkeys strung up to roast and many



hung on trees for future use. Our work was now done and the ground work of Fort Riley was laid. We broke camp and started for winter quarters.
   In the spring and summer of 1853, we passed-over the route of '52 on the same duties at Fort McKey. We again found the Arapahoes, who had some time before arrived from their annihilating trip. As long as we lay there they kept mourning their dead. They would commence at dark, howling, dogs howling, keeping the air filled with sounds until near morning, reminding me of New York, at a distance. This season we passed as far west as the big timbers on the Arkansas river, five or six hundred miles out. After standing the mosquitoes one night, we started on our return by easy marches. At Fort McKey we met Maj. Fitzpatrick, who had come out with a large train laden with presents for the wild Indians. Learning that the Indians had got a Mexican merchant with his train in trouble, boots and saddles were sounded and we were off for the crossing of the road to Santa Fe, some twenty-five miles above. Here we found he had got part of his train across. The river here was about forty rods wide with quicksand bottom, but shallow. The Indians seeing an opportunity to take them in detail intended to rob them. Learning of our near approach they left. We followed about ten miles, spied their camp and got within half a mile of them before they discovered us. We charged into their camp but they scattered in every direction. There was a man sent out and had them return, when they were scolded and invited to meet Fitzpatrick, to make a Cracker and Molasses Treaty, as Gen'l. Harney called it. After the presents were distributed, we remained some time, then returned to Leavenworth.
   In the year 1854 there was more stirring in Kansas than any year previous, and to me it was the most unfortunate in the early spring. Whilst on drill, I got the hammer of a carbine crammed into my leg which sent me to the hospital, where it was poulticed, blistered, burned, and scarrified. After all the treatment, I was discharged for disability. Going to the company's quarters, I tore up my discharge without reading it through. I went to the orderly Sergeant's room and sat down, not knowing what to do. Having no money, or very little, and not being able to walk away, I sat there feeling very blue. In the course of an hour the boss herder at Pilot




Knob came around enquiring for me and told me to be ready, as a wagon would be along soon and I should go to the herd with him. I suppose some of the officers had spoken to the Quartermaster, and I was put on his list at twenty dollars a month. At the herd the boys would catch a quiet mule for me and I would go with them to the grazing grounds and they would do their herding. In the course, of two weeks I had become rugged, but could not walk any distance. This was the year of the organizing of the territories of Kansas and Nebraska. People began to come in. Steve Atchison, who was, or had been, a U. S. Senator, crossed the Missouri river above the fort with a horde of Missourians, at what is now called Atchison, to lay the foundation of a slave state. His home was in Platte City, Missouri. On the 12th of July, Major Ogden sent for me and put me in command of five men and a string of fifty-two horses, with rope from the tongue of the wagon to a pair of leaders, directing me to proceed to the Stranger and choose a camp and receive four hundred horses which he would send out. By hard work we reached it and formed our camp, as the sun was setting, traveling twelve miles in seven hours. In the night three or four more strings came in, some with half or more of their horses gone; and from one string three men deserted. In the night I sent back to the Fort to report the condition of the horses. I received orders to gather them up, count them and report. We scoured the country for five miles around and got a good many; and to count them we tied them to a new stake-and-ridered fence; and before I got them counted they scared and pulled about sixty rods of the fence down. Then we had a circus: horses snorting, running, with rails flying in the air, and men using their best endeavors to escape injuries. As luck would have it no more came out, but they sent five more men, and then we gathered them again, and formed a square by placing a wagon on each corner, and stretching our lead lines from wagon to wagon, to which we tied them with halter. Counting them we found only seven missing. After a couple of days the balance were sent out and men enough to take care of them in a way, and I was relieved from charge of all but my fifty-two. Then came companies B and E, First Dragoons, and some thirty officers and cadets for New Mexico. Our route was the same we had traveled the two previous years, as far as we had gone. At Walnut creek we had some



trouble through the interference of so many young officers; but it was settled by raising our pay ten dollars per month. There were one hundred and six citizens, teamsters, and horsemen in the command. We crossed the Arkansas at the regular crossing and went into camp on a low bottom. Our camp formed with the two companies on the flanks, and the train drawn along parallel with the river and far enough back from it to give us room to picket on half lariat. The train consisted of seventy wagons with six mules to each wagon. Noticing the horses appeared restless, I refrained from lying down, and kept my men up conversing on various subjects. About ten o'clock they made a break. We ran to save our horses and turned the balance off, thereby saving most all of mine and the companies' that were below me. Here was a catastrophe. Seven or eight hundred animals on a stampede, picket pins flying in the air, but too dark to see them. Those who have heard the charge of a thousand cavalrymen may know the noise, minus the yell. After my horses became quiet, I took three men and went in pursuit, finding a number whose picket ropes had become entangled in different squads. I sent them with the men to camp and proceeded down the river some ten miles when my horse took to acting strangely and refused to be urged on. Believing myself in the vicinity of Indians, and without arms, I thought it policy to return. After riding far enough, as I thought, to be at camp, and coming to the river I got off and went down the bank, which is hardly ever more than three feet high, and put my hand into the water to tell which way it flowed. Finding myself right, I mounted and started on, but did not go far before I was hailed. Answering "friend," I was told to advance and give the countersign, and there within twenty feet of me was Lieutenant Hastings with twenty-five men. I had not heard them nor could I see them; the night had become so foggy, hot I was near camp. Lying down I slept three or four hours and had something to eat when I woke up. We were then sent out to scour the country for the horses and got many, myself taking a course a little more south of my night ride. About two miles out I came upon three dead horses with no signs of injuries about them that I could discover. I believe they ran themselves to death. Continuing my course for about an hour, and getting into more broken country, as I ascended an eminence I spied near by two small pack




mules with packs lying on the ground and a man eighty rods away hurrying to his camp. I put spurs to my horse and beat him. Seeing a gun, I jumped off and got it and remounted. Seeing he hesitated, I motioned him to advance, which he did very deliberately. He proved to be the poorest specimen of the human race I had ever seen. By signs, together with what little Spanish I could speak, he was given to understand that his business was to pack up and go to camp, thinking be might prove to be the cause of our stampede, or, at least could be made useful. After turning him over to the commanding officer I saw no more of him. After three or four days the Indians brought in some horses for which they were paid ten dollars a head in gold. I got a number of the ten dollar pieces for a pint cup of sugar, and might have got all if my sugar had held out. I had always taken some extra coffee and sugar with me when going on the plains. Having got most all our animals, we broke camp and recrossed the river, and continued up the north side to Bent's Fort, a trading post, where we were not far from Pike's Peak. We next crossed the Arkansas, and went up a stream properly called Purgatory, which we followed to the summit of the Rattone mountains. Passing down on the southwest side, we came to the ranch of Maxwell and Kit Carson, consisting of a few log cabins covered with earth, numerous Indians and half breeds. Continuing south and west we arrived at Fort Union. The next day we turned our horses over to the quartermaster, who placed them in a two-acre corral built of pine trees from twelve to sixteen inches in diameter, placed in the ground about three feet, and eight feet high, close together, with good plank doors. He counted them and receipted, and we had not got twenty rods away when out they broke at the door, and cramming through, broke down three rods of the corral, and the last I saw of them was a cloud of dust away off toward Santa Fe. We were paid off here, and after our teams rested a few days, we returned in wagons by what is known as the Cimeron route, crossing the Arkansas at our stampede ground. As we got near Leavenworth we would meet occasionally a white man. When we arrived at the Fort we were again paid off and discharged.
   Hearing that the town of Leavenworth was laid off at Three Mile creek, I went down to see it and find out what show there would be for winter quarters. I found the brush cut out of the streets and a



stone foundation laid for a hotel, with the frame going up. I noticed two or three piles of lumber on the ground for other buildings. Seeing no show for quarters, I returned to the Fort and had a talk with Major Ogden regarding the town, I wanted to buy a share or two that he said would be worth five hundred dollars a share, but the company had not arranged to make them transferable. I had in my possession something over one thousand dollars at that time. Having no place to stay, I got a hack going to Weston, Mo. There I fitted myself out with wearing apparel and took a steamer for St. Louis, going to southeastern Iowa for winter quarters. Early in March I crossed northern Missouri on horseback, and when I arrived at Leavenworth, I found the hotel running. Russell and Majors - these were the great freighters - were erecting a store building and a printing press on the levee, near a big tree. They had a rousing big log fire by which they cooked their grub and published their paper. The shares of the town company had risen to three thousand dollars. Probably there were ten or a dozen houses up at that time. After spending a month in town, I sold my horse and went on the herd at the knob, going to town two or three times a week. Here I saw some sixty or seventy-five men march from the town with arms, pistols, guns and blankets on their back for the sacking of Lawrence. Some of them I knew to be free state men. Why they went has always been a query in my mind. At the first election, men came in companies and tied their horses to trees and bushes till they covered the ground for three quarters of a mile around; also a steam-boat load front the town of Weston, Mo. I do not believe that ten of every hundred were entitled to vote, but they did all the same, making the election for slavery. A month later they took a free state man to Weston, tarred and feathered him and had him sold to a negro for a cent. He came back to town and some time after he was shot dead. I believe his name was Phillips.
   Whilst herding we noticed men going around and blazing trees or driving stakes in the ground, marking them with the name and the part of the claim they were on. In the course of a day or two others would come along and put others in their place, obliterating all previous marks. Whether any of them ever settled on the ground they marked, I know not. Some, if they were not, should

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