While engaged in our travels through the far West, we remember to have met with an Indian agent who was, both in years and experience, but a mere boy. To him had been intrusted the affairs of a large tribe, notorious in the country where they reside, as being great thieves. These Indians had so little respect for their agent, that they would openly boast of the crimes which they had committed, in his very presence. Not only this, but, on horses stolen from the neighboring settlers, they would ride by him, thus defying his power. The settlers were loud in their complaints against the Government for thus neglecting to protect them, and sending them a block of wood for a king. The young man of whom we speak, bore an exemplary character, but it was plainly and painfully apparent, that he was, in no way whatever, fitted for the office he held, and which he had attained through the influence of powerful political friends. This is but a fair example by which many of the so-called Indian agents may be rated, who are the actual managers of Indian affairs on our frontiers.
The Utahs and the Apaches, having now openly combined, met with such success in their endeavors to attack the whites, that, during the course of a few months, they overran almost the entire northern part of the territory of New Mexico. They utterly defied the power of the American Government; and, whenever the opportunity offered, boasted to the Mexicans "that they no longer stood in fear of the white man." The subsequent cruel and barbarous crimes of which they were guilty, clearly demonstrated that they had become greatly elated by their success. It soon became apparent that, unless checked, they would exterminate the population and burn or otherwise destroy their settlements.
At this time, it was only by running great risk, that the whites could leave their towns and go to the neighboring mountains, for the purpose of obtaining even a little firewood. Working parties were daily surprised and murdered; women and children were carried into bondage, and reserved for a worse fate, and all kinds of business were receiving a check, which was becoming ruinous to the country. It was even greatly feared, that the boldness of the savages would carry them so far as to make them attack Fort Massachusetts. To give them a warm reception, should they dare undertake that enterprise, the post was strengthened, by cutting down and removing everything which might, in the least, tend to aid the Indians, and give them a cover which they so much like when fighting; all the trees and brush about the post were cut away. Breastworks were thrown up on the block-house attached to the fort, so that the soldiers could be well protected in case of emergency. In these, sentinels were posted, and the strength of the guard doubled and greater vigilance exacted. Haystacks were removed to a safe place, for fear they would be fired by the enemy. The sentinels were ordered to cry out every half hour of the night while on their posts, and no man was allowed to approach after the shades of night came on, without giving the countersign. It proved to be well that these precautions were taken; for, on the neighboring mountains, Indian watch-fires were seen nightly; and, on several mornings, Indian moccasin tracks were discovered in close proximity to the fort, showing thereby that the enemy was watching and waiting for a favorable opportunity to strike a sudden and overwhelming blow upon the garrison within. The savages, no doubt, were deterred from making a bold attack by the prompt precautionary measures which had been taken by the commander to anticipate their plans. The wagons belonging to the fort were sent out after wood under a strong escort, and the government herd of beef-cattle, horses and mules, were well protected by the soldiery. On one occasion, through a false alarm of Indians, the whole command of the post, which numbered less than one hundred men, was put in great and sudden commotion. The cause will appear in connection with the following circumstances. The party in charge of the herd had espied a large cavalcade of men and animals approaching them. At the long distance they were off, the strangers resembled Indians. The commander of the party, immediately sent an expressman to the fort to apprise its occupants of the fact. The drums immediately sounded the rally, which caused the men to rush for their arms. They quickly fell into their ranks, and the order was given to march. Headed by a gallant lieutenant, they dashed out of the fort on a fast run, in order to reach and save their property from being captured by the enemy. The soldiers were elated at the prospect of having a brush with the Indians, and, on an open plain, giving them battle, where, notwithstanding the great numbers which would certainly be arrayed against them, they felt that they could soundly chastise them. On reaching the herd, the soldiers scattered, and were soon prepared to commence the skirmish; but, lo! when the strangers drew near enough to be discernible, they were recognized as a large party of Mexicans, under the command of an American. These people had been absent several months on a trading voyage among the Cheyennes and Arrapahoes, and for the purpose of returning home in safety, they had formed themselves into one body. Their dress was similar to that of the Indians, and therefore at the great distance at which they were first discovered, it is not strange that such a mistake had been made, especially during these dangerous times. The reason of the sudden stationing of the soldiers about the herd, the traders easily surmised; hence, on drawing near, they began to cry out that they were friends. No set of men were ever more disappointed than were these soldiers at this unexpected termination of the affair.
Matters eventually arrived at such a crisis that the Governor of the Territory, by and with the advice of the commanding general, felt obliged to issue a proclamation calling upon the people to volunteer for the purpose of defending their lives and property.
The inhabitants of New Mexico promptly responded to this call, by flocking to the places designated for them to organize. Out of the great number who presented themselves and offered their services, there were selected men sufficient to fill six companies, each of which, when fully organized, contained eighty mounted men. They had the power of electing their own officers, by and with the advice and consent of the Governor. These volunteers furnished themselves with riding horses. The pay which they were to receive amounted to about thirty dollars per month, which was considered very liberal, inasmuch as they were provided, in most cases, with arms. Rations were issued out to them the same as to the regular army. The willingness which the Mexicans exhibited on this occasion to volunteer, does them great credit, and clearly proves the fact that they do not always lack in courage, but that they are prompt to defend their homes when properly disciplined and aided with the means necessary to do so.
It is the opinion of many of the most prominent citizens of the Territory of New Mexico, that, if the chastisement of the Indians, when it was required, was left to the people themselves, the general government only supplying them with money and arms, that peace between the two parties would, in a short time, be firmly established on a sure and permanent footing.
In giving currency to such opinions, we risk them, with the knowledge that the previous experiments made on this policy, which have proved unsuccessful in the various older territories belonging to the United States, will be brought to bear as potent arguments against such a course by a large and powerful opposition. But such facts of Indian history are exceptions. Indian history clearly demonstrates the proposition, that well-organized volunteers, under able leaders, have accomplished more in warfare against the savages than regular troops, taking into consideration that the same length of time, which each have been engaged in actual service, has given them equal experience. The cause of this is plain. These two distinct forces are composed, entirely, of different material. The one is made up of frontiersmen who thoroughly understand the effective use of the rifle, and a life in an Indian country, while the regular soldiers have been, for many years back, chiefly foreigners who, as has been heretofore stated, have to be taught these things; and, as it very often happens, they have never seen one of their enemy until sent out in quest of the savages.
As matters usually stand, the Indians are almost the actual, although not the nominal, masters of the country. In short, they commit excesses whenever it suits them, paying no regard to treaties. This has been their habit from time immemorial, and it is found to be a difficult task to break them from it. Their minor crimes are allowed to accumulate, and when, at last, they are actuated by increasing success and consequent boldness, to commit some great and overt act, it is noticed and expeditions are sent out against them. These, usually, fail to punish the really guilty parties, but instead, they recover a small share of the property stolen, and with it the thirst for revenge must be satiated. The officers and soldiers do their utmost to accomplish something more, and readily meet hardships and privations in every shape in order to accomplish the desired end; but, their time is too limited rightly and efficiently to perform the work; for the campaign must be ended, when in reality it has but just commenced. The reason exists in the fact that, those high in authority are liable to be called to an account for spending a dollar too much in a good cause. Perhaps this state of affairs has been brought about by the immense expenses which have attended many of the Indian wars in which the United States government has been engaged, when mismanagement and paltry results have characterized the acts of whole campaigns. This charge cannot, however, reach to the military department in which New Mexico is included, for the leading officers who have, from time to time, been stationed there, have invariably exhibited an unusual amount of discretion and sound judgment, and have set examples of military science, promptitude and skill which it might be well for others to follow.
Under the existing causes for difficulty and peculiarity of circumstances, it is sometimes hazardous to assume the responsibility of punishing the hostile Indians as they deserve.
By punishing the Indians we do not wish to impress the reader with the idea that they must be collected and butchered, like animals, in order to bring them to terms. Milder means serve the same purpose; but, when they dig up the hatchet, battles must be fought in which they ought to be so closely driven as to cause them to see that it is perfect rashness to attack the whites. One victory gained by savages over white men so exhilarates their pride that they forget the past and believe themselves invincible. In these fights, valuable lives are sacrificed, but they are necessary sacrifices for the common good. When one tribe is severely chastised, the surrounding Indians hear of it, and, becoming alarmed, for a time they behave themselves with propriety. This happy state of things will continue until some weak move on the part of government officials counteracts this good influence, when, misconstruing kind acts for fear, the red men at once dig up the tomahawk and boldly march upon the war path, to spill innocent blood. Such results often follow when the power is taken from the experienced military commanders, and vested in the hands of (often the fact) inexperienced superintendents. These men pompously invite the Indians to grand councils, where unmeaning speeches are manufactured to suit the occasion. Usually when thus summoned, the wily savages are delighted to go into council, for, as a rejoinder to the many concessions which are easily obtained from them, and which they are always ready to make after assuming a little coquetry, they receive presents which the superintendent informs them are merely tokens of the high appreciation with which they are regarded by their Great Father at Washington.
It is the opinion of Kit Carson "that the Territory of New Mexico will continue to remain in its present impoverished state during the time that the mountain Indians are allowed to run at large. The only true remedy" (he says) "for this great evil is to compel the savages to form settlements by themselves. Then and there assist and teach them to cultivate the soil. In time they will be able to gain a maintenance independent of the General Government; and, to a certain extent, they will become responsible for their acts."
The people who form the chief population of the territory have so often been deprived of their property that it is not strange that they have become poverty-stricken and indolent. It is enough to strike down the enterprise of any nation to have been so long badly governed, and then, without any resources in the way of arms and ammunition, to be compelled to beat back hostile Indians. Under the provisions of the government of the United States, they are improving, but yet, even now, they have not the protection which they require, and should receive. In their territory it takes a daring man to venture his small capital in raising stock. To be sure, claims are allowed them by Congress for the losses by Indian depredations, but these usually fall into the hands of speculators, and in reality, assist the people to a very trifling extent. It can be said, to their credit, that Mexicans bear reverses of fortune with a nonchalance seldom seen among any other race. Although generally poor they are as happy and joyous as it is possible for human beings to be.
The organization of the Mexican volunteers was made complete by the governor of the Territory, who selected as their leader, Mr. Ceran St. Vrain of Taos. This gentleman, although he had much important business which called his attention elsewhere, immediately expressed his willingness to accept the responsible position which, without solicitation, had been conferred upon him. The commission received by St. Vrain gave him the rank of lieutenant-colonel. Without delay he set about the difficult and important work that lay before him, bringing to bear upon the details, that sound judgment, gentlemanly bearing and ready zeal, which have long characterized the man. He had the good fortune to secure the services of Lieutenant Creigg of the regular army, whom he appointed one of his aids-de-camp. Having completed his staff and other arrangements to place his force upon a military basis, he was ready to take the field.
The appointment of St. Vrain as commander of the Volunteers, was hailed with delight throughout the territory. His great experience in the mountains, his knowledge of the Indian mode of warfare, and the respect which the people he was called to command invariably paid him, seemed to convince every thinking mind that something more than usual was to be accomplished. They felt that the wrongs of their country would now be certainly redressed. The sequel will prove that the people were not doomed to disappointment.
Early in the month of February, 1855, Col. T.T. Fauntleroy of the First Regiment of United States Dragoons arrived in Taos from Fort Union, New Mexico.
Fort Union is the first post met with on entering the Territory of New Mexico from the east. It lies on the Santa Fé road usually traveled by parties when crossing the plains, and is about one hundred miles distant from the capital. The site of this fort, at the first view, is bold and picturesque, as it is located near the west side of a broad valley, which is continuous with the open prairies. The houses composing the fort are built mostly of logs; and, as there are quite a number of them, the post has the appearance of a small settlement. The soil about is sandy, and the place being exposed, it suffers when the high winds spring up. This fort is usually garrisoned by several companies of soldiers.
As it has such free access to the mail communication with the States, it is, comparatively speaking, quite a desirable fort for an officer to be stationed at. The difficulty of procuring fuel for the fort, and also other necessary articles, is the great objection to the present location, but its importance more than counterbalances these; therefore, the post will probably be kept up either where it is, or in the immediate vicinity, for many years to come. Colonel Fauntleroy had received orders from the Department General to proceed to the town of Taos and take command of the entire expedition. The little force had been made as powerful as the resources of the country would permit. The Mexican Volunteers, soon after their enrollment, purchased woolen shirts and felt hats, the color of which, in each company, was similar; this fact, with a little drilling, gave them quite a military appearance. Never were men prouder of the position they now held than the volunteers under consideration; and a more daring and expert band of horsemen has been seldom collected. So pleased were they at being recognized as soldiers, that they could not, when afterwards marching through their own towns, resist the temptation of jocosely taunting their countrymen whom they chanced to meet, for being obliged to till the ground. We have before said that these men were mounted. At first sight it would appear as though they would soon be on foot, for their horses appeared to be in a sad plight for so severe a campaign as that which lay before them. As has often occurred before, looks are frequently deceptive. In this instance, it was found to be the case; for, no sooner did these hardy ponies reach the mountains than their wonderful powers of endurance began to be exemplified. When the noble dragoon horses began to droop from hunger and overwork, these little fellows were fresh and strong as the day they started. The reason of this was that the Mexican horses were well versed in taking care of themselves, and when the snow fell and prevented their having free access to the dry grass beneath, they were not in the least disconcerted; for, with the aid of their fore feet, they readily pawed the snow away and thus obtained full rations; but, their more enlightened rivals did not fully understand this science, and, owing to a want of proper nourishment, their strength would fail gradually until finally they broke down.
The only real inconvenience under which the ponies seemed to labor, arose from tender feet, for, the rocky trails in the mountains rapidly wore away, and broke off their hoofs. This continued, so that at last, reaching the matrix of these horny growths, their feet became very sensitive. Many of the Mexicans had taken the precaution to guard against this, before leaving the towns and military posts which lay on their route. They had obtained horse-shoes, with which they shod the ponies. We remember seeing a large party of them thus engaged as blacksmiths. It was at night; while some held burning torches, others were busy with hammers, stones and hatchets in applying all sorts and sizes of horse and mule shoes, with which they were content, provided they approached the diameters of the hoofs to which they were to be nailed. Strange to say, this rough work answered the purpose, and but few, if any, of the animals so shod, went lame. After the command had got under full headway, if any of these ponies became so tender in their feet as to be able to travel only with great difficulty, their riders resorted to other expedients for relieving them. When practicable, they obtained the fresh hides of the beef cattle as they were killed, and, binding the material around the injured feet, and making it fast about the fetlocks, they allowed it to dry on. In the morning, thus protected, the horse could journey on. It is customary regularly to shoe these ponies only on the fore feet, as the weight of the animal's head and neck, together with that of the rider, comes harder on these hoofs and causes them, when traveling over sharp rocks, to wear away quickly. It seldom happens that the hind feet become tender. The Indians cannot understand the policy of this, and one of them philosophizing on the subject, while visiting the blacksmith's shop attached to a military post, made the remark in Spanish, after apparently having been for some little time engaged in a deep study, "that it was not right." Said he, "The horse, with his eyes, can see where to put his fore feet when traveling over bad places, but he cannot do this with those behind; therefore, you white men ought to put the moccasins there." The Mexicans had so much confidence in the powers of endurance of their ponies while out on this campaign, that they hesitated not to run them on races, whenever circumstances and the site of the camp would permit such pastime. The only training required for these trials of speed, consisted in the rider foregoing the pleasure of riding for a day or two, in order to allow his horse to recruit. As their walking did not in the least interfere with the order of the march, they of course were permitted to race as they pleased, for their services on the march are just as valuable on foot.
Col. Fauntleroy's command, when completed, consisted of four companies of Mexican volunteers, two companies of dragoons, one company of artillery who were performing duty as a rifle corps, and one company of spies. The two remaining companies of volunteers were dispatched to exposed towns on the remote frontiers in order to protect them. The artillery company was the only one on foot; but the soldiers who then composed it were known from actual experiment to be more than a match for the horses in traveling when the party should reach and penetrate the mountains. Col. Fauntleroy engaged the services of Kit Carson as his chief guide, and, having arranged all of his plans necessary for a vigorous campaign, he set out upon its execution.
The command proceeded at first one hundred miles due north to Fort Massachusetts, which was to be their dépôt. Without delay they left this post and proceeded, encountering snow-storms and severe cold weather. The mercury of the thermometer, for most of the time, ranged several degrees below zero. They marched to the Rio Grande del Norte, and thence, on up this river to where it makes its exit through a deep cañon from the mountains. It was, as will be remembered by the reader, on the head-waters of this last-mentioned stream, that Col. Fremont, while engaged in his last great exploring expedition, met with severe reverses, in which several of his men lost their lives from exposure, hunger, etc., while he, and the remainder of his party, barely escaped the same fate.
While passing over this point of his journey, Col. Fauntleroy sent out as an advance party the company of spies. Their duty was to seek for fresh Indian trails. On reaching the mouth of the cañon of this river, the main portion of the soldiers halted for a short time while their trailers penetrated the mountains in search of the much desired Indian signs. During this resting spell, an incident occurred which, for an hour or two, created some little stir and excitement among part of the men present. A large Newfoundland dog belonging to an officer had, accidentally, been allowed to follow the soldiers. By his pranks and his good disposition he had become a general favorite among them. While attempting to drink, this animal lost his foot-hold on the ice and slipped into the swift current of the river, which was partially frozen over. The dog at once attempted to extricate himself, but with all his efforts he could do no more than stem the flood, making no progress against it. His situation was very precarious, for, should his strength begin to give out, he was certain to be carried under the ice and lost. The sympathies of the men were soon well awakened in his behalf, and many plans were devised to rescue him, but they all proved abortive until, at last, a Mexican approached him with a lasso, and after making several vain attempts, succeeded finally in encircling the dog's head with the slip noose. On tightening the rope he found that he had the animal firm, and soon dragged him from his perilous position.
The spies were not long in discovering a trail made by the Indians, to which they led the main portion of the command. This trail had been so frequently used of late by the Indians in driving stolen bands of sheep and cattle over it, that it was now a well-trodden road and therefore there was no difficulty in keeping on it at all hours of the day and night.
Being accustomed to perform his duty carefully, and, at the same time, to use dispatch, the Colonel, in the course of a few days, led his party to the entrance of the Saquachi Pass, which is the great natural opening in the mountains that bound, on the west, the valley of San Luis. As they approached the mouth of the pass, the men were traveling close under the hills, therefore, on coming to it, and in order to follow it up, it was necessary to turn off almost at a right angle. The spies, as was usual when the command was on the march, were considerably in the advance. They had hardly entered the pass and had just reached the summit of a knoll which lay in their path, and which had hitherto prevented their seeing up the valley, when, all at once, the long looked for Indians were presented to their view. They were but a short distance off, and as if surprised at thus so suddenly discovering each other, both parties halted. During this state of suspense, the white men noticed that the Indians were arrayed in their war costume, showing that they were bound on another plundering expedition. Everything went to show that the visit which the white men were making to their mountain haunts was unexpected by the red men.
The Indians quickly recovered from their astonishment and began to form in line of battle by spreading themselves out across the valley. They were evidently emboldened by the small force with which, apparently, they had to contend, and felt certain that a victory would be both easy and sure. Having taken their position, Blanco, their chief, was easily recognized by the red woolen shirt which he wore. He was busy, riding along in front of his warriors, occasionally stopping to give some command. As they were near enough so to do, the Indians opened a warfare of small talk, in the Spanish language. They charged their adversaries with being afraid to advance, or to use their expressive words, the Americans were as cowardly as squaws. To these taunts no reply was made; but to keep up the decoy, the few soldiers who were exposed to view, remained stationary, while word was passed to the rear of what was transpiring in the advance. Thus several minutes passed by; but they were not thrown away. During this time, most of the dragoons and volunteers were relieving themselves of such extra luggage as overcoats, blankets, etc.; saddle girths were tightened and weapons put in order for immediate use. The Indians were finely mounted, and about two hundred and fifty strong; and, as their wild career had gone so long unchecked, their bravery was aroused to its highest pitch. All things being in readiness, the bugles sounded the command to charge, when away dashed the gallant soldiers, eager for the affray, and each trying to be foremost in the fight. As they came bounding over the knoll before spoken of, the Indians began to see the delusion under which they had been laboring, and at once turned to fly, but not in time to escape, for the soldiers were soon among them and with their revolvers and small arms were fast thinning their ranks and sending many a brave to his final home. A running fight ensued, which was continued up the valley for about eight miles, when a majority of the Indians gained the mountains and made good their escape. The chase was a splendid affair to behold, and many feats of horsemanship were performed that would be difficult to excel. Among the foremost in this skirmish was, as the reader might readily imagine, Kit Carson. The pursuit was continued far into the mountains and was only given over when night came on. The soldiers then retired to their reserve-guard, who had established a camp on a small stream which runs through the centre of the pass, where their pack animals and stores could be easily guarded. During this exciting fight, several of the soldiers were slightly wounded. With this exception, the command came out of the skirmish unharmed. On the side of the Indians, affairs in this respect were quite different. Their blood had well sprinkled the battle-ground, and several of their swarthy forms were stretched out at full length, sleeping that sleep that knows no wakening, except it be at the final judgment day. Had it not been that most of the Indians, as is usually the case with them when in action, were tied on their horses, this number would have been augmented. The bloody trails that were afterwards found in the mountains, went to prove that many of the wounds given to the escaped Indians were mortal, and, while their horses were carrying them from the danger, they themselves were sinking from furious hemorrhage. Early in the pursuit, a fine warrior was thrown from his horse. As he had been crippled by a ball, he could not recover himself and make off. For some time he lay alone and neglected, but when the rear guard came along they noticed that he was playing a game by pretending to be dead; but he had closed his eyes too firmly for a man in that condition, and this fact attracted the notice of the passers-by. A Mexican raised his rifle and fired at the brave; but the bullet only served to cause another flesh wound. This so irritated the would-be dead, savage, that, seizing his lance which lay by his side, he attempted to reach and kill his adversary with it; but, others coming up, he was soon dispatched.
While this running fight was in progress, the author met with an adventure which came near costing him his life. It was my duty to follow the charging soldiers in order to be near at hand to render professional services to the wounded, should there be any. I was mounted on a mule, and when the dragoon horses started off, he became frightened and unmanageable. I soon found that this mule lacked the speed of the former animals, hence he was in a short time left far behind, but not until he had fallen and thrown me into a thrifty bed of prickly pears, the thorns of which did not, in the least, save me from being hurt. On regaining my feet, I found that my injuries were but slight, and that I still retained my bridle rein, therefore I quickly regained my seat in the saddle and started on again, remembering the old proverb, which says, "All is fair in war." While riding on, I was joined by a soldier whose horse had broken down in the charge. As we now advanced together, our route led us by some large sand hills, behind which several Indians had sought refuge, when hotly pursued. Seeing that they had been overlooked during the excitement of the moment, they remained quiet until we came along, when they made a dash at us and commenced firing their arrows in fine-style. We returned their volleys with our revolvers, but, whether we produced any result further than preventing their coming too near, it is difficult to say. Several of their arrows came in close proximity to our bodies, and one struck, the soldier's horse in the neck and wounded a main artery, which bled, for a time, furiously. As danger was thick about them, the Indians soon left us to effect their own escape; when, we halted and attended to the wounded horse, whose life we were so fortunate as to save, by putting a ligature about the bleeding vessel.
The night succeeding the day on which this fight occurred, with a single exception, passed by quietly. A soldier, who lay near the centre of the camp, had retired to rest, perhaps impressed with the belief that he and his comrades would be attacked by the Indians before morning; this train of thought had led him into dreams of war, and while reveling in them, he imagined that danger was at hand. Suddenly starting up, and seizing his rifle, he fired at random. His bullet came near striking a Mexican sentinel who was on duty, and who was making his rounds. The sentinel was very naturally startled by this unaccountable noise in the camp, and supposing that the Indians had, unobserved, crept within the lines, he returned the compliment by discharging his piece in the direction of the supposed danger. The report of these firearms had the effect of arousing the entire command. The men were quickly on their feet and ready for active service. In the confusion which ensued, several more rifles were fired, but fortunately no harm was done, and as soon as the cause of the trouble was explained, quietness and order was promptly established.
At the break of day, on the next morning, the soldiers were up and preparing for their march. The Indians had, on this morning, made fires, and even presented themselves to view on the mountains, but they were few in number, and it was well known that this was only a ruse to allure the white men to the wrong trail, while their families should have time to escape in the contrary direction; hence, but little notice was taken of these demonstrations.
Col. Fauntleroy here determined to relieve himself of all drawbacks which should in the least tend to prevent his now giving full chase to the Indians. Accordingly, he left his baggage and provision train under escort of the foot company and quartermaster men, the whole being placed under the command of Lieutenant Lloyd Beall, of the Second Regiment U.S. Artillery, with instructions to meet him at an appointed rendezvous in the Wet Mountain Valley. It required but a short search by his guide, Kit Carson, and his spies, to put him on the right trail taken by the main portion of the enemy. When it was found, the pursuit was resumed and kept up vigorously. Late and early, the soldiers followed on this trail, and although the Indians purposely led them over the worst conceivable routes, yet they gained nothing substantial by it. On one occasion, when the men were pushing on as fast as possible, their advance guard surprised three Indians, one of them a woman, while they were leisurely watering their ponies. These Indians attempted to fly, and succeeded in making a good run for about four miles, but, at the end of that distance, two of them were overtaken. A Mexican, who was mounted on a very swift horse, was the first to come up with the savages. He fired and brought the woman to the ground. Quickly dismounting, he made a trophy of her scalp. The other Indian, being arrested by a slight wound, was made a prisoner. On questioning him, it was found that they all belonged to one family. The man who had made his escape, was the husband of the woman who was killed, while the prisoner was her brother. These Indians had heard nothing of the recent fight in the Saquachi Pass, and, had the soldiers dropped down from the heavens, they could not have been more surprised at thus unceremoniously meeting them. It was very much regretted by those present that this Indian woman had lost her life; but, as she was dressed in the disguise of a man, her sex could not be recognized. There are many of our readers who will perhaps censure this Mexican for his barbarous action of scalping a human being, but it must be remembered that the education of his people is different from our own. The taking of Indian scalps for a long time has been authorized by the Mexican Government, as a means of lessening their savage enemies, and handsome premiums have been offered as an inducement to obtain them. In the case of this Mexican, there were extenuating circumstances which, if they did not warrant such a cruel act, yet they rendered him somewhat excusable. He had recently lost a near and dear relative by the hands of these same Indians, and the appearance of this mangled body was still fresh in his memory, making him to thirst for revenge. It must not be supposed for a moment that the commanding officer of this expedition had sanctioned such a mode of procedure, for, he had no knowledge of the matter until after it had been ended. It was not within his province to preach humanity to a people who had been so greatly outraged by savages. He came to punish and not to intercede for wild men who had long been a terror to the surrounding country, and upon whom, in order to reconcile them, every kind act had been expended in vain.
It may possibly be asked whether or no a man, who has simply lost his scalp, can recover. In reply we can safely say that without any other wound, and under favorable circumstances, with good care the sufferer stands a chance of being restored to health. There was a man who formerly was living and working at his trade as a blacksmith in Santa Fé, who, in a fight with the Camanches while crossing the plains, was wounded by a lance and then scalped. After a long period of suffering this person entirely recovered, although the cicatrix of the wound was ever afterwards a source of annoyance to him, compelling him continually to wear a skull-cap made of oiled silk. The size of the scalp, as usually taken off by the Indians, varies. Sometimes they remove only the back covering of the head. At other times they cut off the whole, running down even with the margin of the ear. When a man has died in a manner which the Indians style as "brave"—that is, desperately fighting for his life, and never for once showing fear, they take two scalps, one from either side of the head. The object of this is, to have scalp dances for each, as they consider such a man as deserving the fate of two ordinary men. These scalps are often stretched, dried, decorated and frequently kept for years as trophies. The more scalps a warrior takes, the greater favorite he becomes with his tribe; and finally, having obtained a given number, he is considered eligible to fill the office of War Chief, provided he has other qualifications, such as the power of quickly conceiving the right plan on which to act in case of emergency. When a party of Indians in the Rocky Mountains have been on a war trail, met the enemy and vanquished them, they appoint a brave who is honored as being the scalp-bearer. This warrior carries a long pole, to which, at suitable distances from each other, the scalps are attached. When the party returns to, and enters their own village, this brave is the observed of all observers. Eagerly, by the old men, women, and children, these bloody trophies are counted, for each of them offers an occasion for rejoicing, to be at separate intervals of time. They are, then, each synonymous with the phrase, a fête day, and the scalp-bearer is looked upon with the same jealous eye which greets the color-bearer of an army after having been engaged in some great battle which has proved successful to his standard. An Indian will not remove, as a general thing, a scalp which contains grey hairs. This he considers to be a business fit only for women. The scalp which is to cause a general jubilee, on an appointed evening, is attached to the top of a long pole, planted in the earth at a suitable place. The warriors who have been instrumental in tearing it from the head of its owner, form a circle around the pole, outside of which are arranged the spectators. By the aid of one drum-stick, the person who has been detailed for this duty, keeps up a beating motion on a sort of kettle-drum, the noise of which serves the purpose of marking time. The voices of the dancers make the music. At first the song is a mere humming sound, but after a time, it grows gradually louder, until the participants in the dance, being excited to the highest attainable pitch with interest in the ceremonies, it becomes terribly hideous. Almost naked, with tomahawk and hunting-knife in hand, the warriors imitate the process of dispatching and tearing off the scalps of their victims. So excited do the dancing savages sometimes become while reveling in these fantastical scenes, that they frequently are aroused to a pitch which borders on frenzy. The spectators of these sights get so deeply interested that it is not an extraordinary matter for them to appear as if almost deranged. Their excitement breaks out into exclamations of encouragement and applause, until at last they can control themselves no longer, and, on their own account, commence making bodily demonstrations of joy by jumping about. The scalp dance may last an entire night, or until, worn down with fatigue, the actors are willing to forego their pleasure and seek rest. The Mexicans on the frontiers have fallen into this Indian custom, and they can go into the spirit of the scalp dance with a relish which fully equals that exhibited by their savage neighbors. This is not true as a general rule; but, very many of their people really enjoy these ceremonies.
Colonel Fauntleroy and his men traveled at such a rapid pace, that, in the course of a very few days, they succeeded in once more overtaking the main village belonging to the enemy. The Indians took refuge in a steep and rocky mountain. A skirmishing fight immediately commenced, which lasted several hours. During this engagement, a large number of the savage warriors were killed, their band completely routed, and the inhabitants of the whole village made to scatter in every direction in order to save their lives. At first the braves attempted to make a stand, but they were driven from rock to rock, until they broke their ranks and fled. It was about the time of this crisis, and when they were most needed, that the dragoon horses began to break down and die.
The word village has many times appeared in our pages, and as it may prove ambiguous to a few of our readers and render them liable to confound its meaning with that of a fixed town, we will here stop and explain its signification when applied to Indians. An Indian village, as understood in border parlance, comprises the lodges, the women, children, old men, and such movable property as Indians may chance to possess. They are usually found in some safe retreat where the old men, women and children stay while the warriors are engaged following the hunt or war path. The word has become more generalized since it was first given to stationary camps of the savages, and may now include any band of Indians traveling with their families and property. The village is the home of the red man, where those persons and things which he most cherishes, he tries to keep intact and sacred from the spoiler's hand. It is also where the Indian allows his love, friendship and all the better feelings of his nature to exhibit themselves. It is where in early youth he has listened to the legends of his tribe, and where he is taught those lessons and forced to endure those trials which are to prepare his heart in seeking out revenge. It is the place where, as he approaches the age of manhood, he takes those steps which are to make for him the reputation of a daring hunter and brave warrior. Here he first learns to shoot his arrows with precision, and to handle the lance with dexterity. His boyish feats in horsemanship, which he daily performs in the village, would be witnessed with astonishment by skillful riders. It is here that he runs to welcome his father when he returns either from the chase or the war path; and, while he listens to the marvellous adventures which his sire has encountered, he secretly wishes himself a man, so that he can emulate his greatness. In fact, the same feelings exist between parent and child with the Indian race, as with those who boast of being more civilized. Youth and the vigor of manhood, are the golden days with the savage. To be doomed to old age, is considered by him to be a punishment. When he is no longer able to hunt and seek out his enemy, he loses his desire to live. His life is then considered an incumbrance to the camp. The old and infirm, therefore, are often willingly deserted, that they may the more quickly die. The village is always under the surveillance of men who are past the middle age, and who no longer can act out the stirring deeds of the warrior. Their experience renders them capable of giving good advice, and attending to the less active affairs of the nation. They hold the power of restraining the rashness and indiscretion of the younger men, therefore they are selected to watch over the property of the tribe, while the strong warriors are seeking to provide the dependent portion of the band with food, or to revenge their real or imaginary wrongs. Order and good fellowship is made to prevail in these villages, somewhat similar to the habits found in civilized communities, for the passions and evil propensities of all men are found to be alike, no matter what differences of education or color exist. We find that the Indian tribes have their wise men, whose voices are heard and heeded on all occasions. When these villages are located, or, to use soldier phrase; when the Indians go into camp, care is taken that each lodge shall be placed where it will not interfere with the common good. The internal economy of these habitations is arranged on a social system which, in many respects, is commendable. When one person is poor, generally speaking, the whole tribe is found to be so. The herds of horses and mules belonging to the tribe, are turned loose in one body as if they were the property of one man. If game exists in plenty and danger is not apprehended, happiness holds complete sway within these Indian homes. The proverbial caution of the red man rarely allows him to be surprised; therefore, even in times of peace, he keeps his fleetest horse tied at the door of his lodge, so that he may make haste and collect his property, and be away before his enemy can harm him. These favorite animals are fed by hand. Before trusting his body in sleep, some warrior, in whom the tribe repose the utmost confidence, must ascend a neighboring eminence, if there chance to be one, and examine the country in search of dangers. Parties are always kept out as spies, and, at the least appearance of suspicious signs, they become easily aroused and vigilant, and if danger really exists, word is immediately sent to their village to be ready to move. This is a homely but literal interpretation of the term Indian village.
The reader has seen that the dragoon horses gave out before the fatigues of the march, while the Mexican ponies performed their tasks so admirably and easily.
This was a painful subject to contemplate and one which no man who loves the noble horse could wish to witness the second time. The dragoon horses, reduced to skeletons from starvation while retaining all their natural spirit, with tottering limbs, faithfully tried to perform the labor which their riders, seemingly, asked of them. Long before the arrival of the time when they could no longer support a burden, the soldiers had humanely relieved them from this work and were assisting them, by all the means in their power, to reach a haven of safety, where food, so essential in restoring their sinking powers of life, existed in abundance. As their little remaining strength was leaving them, they would exhibit the fact by staggering. Finally, breaking down in their hinder legs, they would sink to the ground, but not until they had made the effort to drag themselves along with their fore feet. To relieve them from their agonies and prevent their falling into the hands of the Indians, one by one, they were shot.
When these horses broke down and began to die off, it was decided to be best to return to Fort Massachusetts in order to recruit and also to allow the Indians an opportunity to concentrate their forces, when another effective blow could be struck against them. On his return, Colonel Fauntleroy met, at the designated place, Lieutenant Beall, who had managed the affairs intrusted to him very much to his credit. Having once more consolidated his command, Colonel Fauntleroy retired to Fort Massachusetts, which he made, for a time, his head-quarters.
Kit Carson, the guide of this expedition, when afterwards speaking of it, says, "During the time our forces were in the field they were exposed to the most intense cold weather I ever remember experiencing. We were overtaken by several severe snow-storms which came near completely using us up."
For the success that had so far attended the labors of this body of soldiers, the greatest amount of praise is due to their leader, who set a noble example to his men. During those hours when hardships and trials came thickest upon the command, all eyes were turned to the commander, and, as the result proved, with no lack of confidence. Kit Carson's services were found to be invaluable. His long experience and untiring energy proved to be one of the best anchors of the goodly ship. We should not omit to state, in regard to the severity of the cold, that it was early in the morning, just before the break of day, that the cold was invariably found to be the most intense. During this time, it is the greatest wonder that the Mexicans did not perish, for but few of them had more than one blanket as a covering by night, and the remainder were but very little better provided for. When wood was plenty, and they were allowed so to do, they made large fires and laid down near to them to attempt sleep. After about one hour thus spent, they were routed out by being nearly frozen. Getting into close contact with the fires, they would thaw out and then were ready to make another endeavor to repeat the sleeping operation. In this manner they managed to live through each night, and on the following day they were, apparently, none the worse for wear. A person judging these men as he oftentimes sees them during the summer season, basking in the sunlight on the sunny side of their houses in New Mexico, would not, for an instant, suppose that they could undergo such hardships; and yet, they can do so, as the above example sufficiently proves, without allowing one murmur of complaint to escape their lips. With the regulars, who were amply supplied with blankets and buffalo robes, it would appear that they could have obtained sound sleep. But this too proved to be almost an impossibility. The heat of the man's body, during the early and warmer part of the night, served to melt the icy covering of the mother earth just under him. When the cold increased, this was again frozen, rendering the portion of the body nearest to the ground almost benumbed. By frequently reversing the posture a little, some relief from suffering was obtained, but not sufficient to reach a degree which could be called comfortable, or, in the least, be claimed as desirable. Every member of this expedition can truthfully assert that they have experienced a foretaste of what the first symptoms of freezing to death must be.
Finally, the command reached Fort Massachusetts, where, in ease and plenty, the half starved, half frozen, half used-up men soon forgot all their troubles and privations. A few weeks spent at the fort, acted like a magic charm in recruiting the men and the remaining animals, when they were once more in a fit condition, and, again eager to go on the war path, anxiously desiring to surpass the splendid deeds of their first tramp.
At the permanent camp, which was made near Fort Massachusetts, the Mexican Volunteers, especially, enjoyed themselves hugely. From privations of various kinds, to which they had shown themselves to be well trained, and which consequently affected them but little, they were suddenly placed in a state of comparative comfort and even luxury rarely realized at their own homes. They had not much else to do beyond guarding their animals and attending to such other minor duties as were required by camp duties. Had not their hardy ponies required the rest that was now being given them, these troops would have been kept in more active service; but, as this could not be, they were allowed a respite, which they themselves turned into pleasure. Foot races and various athletic games were concocted and played by them, making the time pass merrily by. Their discipline and respect for their officers had reached a degree seldom, if ever, attained by volunteer soldiers, and which, in many respects, could be imitated with advantage by regular troops.
But the time soon arrived for the march to be resumed.
At a council held among the chief officers, it was decided that the best and surest course to be followed would be to divide the forces and send them out in quest of the Indians, as if they were separate commands. Thus it might happen that being caught between the two, as they were running from danger they would rush into it and receive chastisement sufficient to answer all purposes. Acting on this plan, Colonel St. Vrain, with most of the Volunteers, was ordered to proceed in one direction, while Colonel Fauntleroy, with the main division, started in another; while on his route, Colonel Fauntleroy traveled close in under the mountains, and kept his men as much concealed as possible, making most of his marches by night. He traveled through the Valley of San Luis up to its head.
The Valley of San Luis is about one hundred miles in length. Its greatest width is fifty miles. On either side, it is bounded by snow-capped mountains. The scenery of the valley is very prepossessing, being sure to enchant the eye throughout its entire length. In the south, the valley is continuous with prairie land, which extends down as far as the settlement of Rio Colorado. It is well watered by mountain streams and bears the appearance of being an excellent farming district; but, the probability is, that its climate is too cold for raising crops, and that its true value will be found chiefly to consist in using it for grazing purposes. From time to time, the Indians have reported that it contains gold mines, but there are no authentic proofs that this is a fact.
At one time, the Indians succeeded in making the Mexicans converts to the belief in the existence of these mines, as they showed them specimens of gold which they affirmed to have been taken from them. It was agreed that, for this valuable information, presents, such as blankets, horses, and guns, should be made to those Indians who had openly proclaimed the good news, provided they could conduct the Mexicans to them. A party was formed and started to explore the valley, but, as nothing was afterwards heard of their success, and, as many of them, to all external appearances, were as poor as ever when they returned, it is presumed that they were duped by the Indians. The bottom land of the Rio Grande which skirts the southern border of the valley of San Luis, is, judging from the luxuriant hay crops which it produces, year by year, quite a good farming section; and, no doubt, ere long, the Mexicans will there establish a new settlement and thus practically demonstrate the use to which this beautiful valley can be put.
While passing up the valley of San Luis, Colonel Fauntleroy came to the Punchi Pass. This pass is the main opening through the mountains which bound the valley of San Luis on the north. The pass itself is less than half a mile wide, but yet, it presents some of the grandest scenery human eyes ever beheld. The mountains, on either side, are not so lofty as their compeers close by, but they are rugged and picturesque. Through the pass runs a bold stream, which, at about midway (and at this time) was obstructed by a beaver dam, that was so scientifically constructed as immediately to attract the attention of the entire party. Near to this dam, there is a very large hot spring, which is located close under the base of one of the mountain sides, and which, under the favorable circumstance of a fine day, lends enchantment to the view. The Punchi Pass is but a few miles long and leads into a beautiful little valley, called by the Mexicans after the same name which is given to the pass.
On arriving at the Punchi Pass, Col. Fauntleroy proceeded on through it to the head-waters of the Arkansas river, where, fortunately, a fresh trail made by the Indians was found. This trail was followed with such assiduity and prudence that the camp of some spies belonging to the enemy, and which was in their rear, was passed by the Americans one night without their presence being noticed. Early the ensuing morning (before the break of day), the main village of the Indians was discovered. Its occupants were enjoying a war and scalp dance, and their voices, as engaged in the song which usually accompanies such festivities, could be heard for a distance of at least a mile. Unconscious of danger, they were having a merry time. One can imagine, better than can be described, the scene that followed when three hundred loaded rifles poured their contents into this crowd. Suffice it to say, that among those who survived this terrible retribution, the greatest consternation prevailed; but, as a dernier resort, they began to fly, when they were hotly pursued by the soldiers. Before quitting their late camp, some of the savages had managed to get their own rifles, and with them to fire several shots which did some execution, as two soldiers were killed and two wounded.
Thus it will be seen that the main village of these Apaches and Utahs fell into the hands of the Americans. It proved to be rich in plunder, for it contained all their stock of dried buffalo meat, besides other provisions. Also several cart-loads of robes, saddles, weapons, ropes, skins, blankets, trinkets and camp equipage. Most of this property was collected and destroyed by fire, being of little use to the command, whose means of conveyance was limited to their own actual wants. The number of Indians killed in this surprise has been variously estimated, as has been also the number of the red men on the ground when the carnage commenced; but all agree that this was the severest blow these savages had ever received.
Among the many other objects of curiosity found by the victors, was a "Medicine lodge," which had, from appearance, but recently been in full blast. It was highly (and to Indian eyes it must have been very artistically) decorated, and contained all the emblems and symbols of witchcraft. If sickness was to be frightened away, or even coaxed to dethrone itself from the afflicted, there was sufficient in this temple of the Indian gods, seemingly, to have answered either purpose. Some potentate of the magnitude of a great chief had, evidently, but a few hours since, been its occupant; for, in his hurry to desert the premises, on hearing the music of the white man's rifle, he had forgotten his beautiful head-dress of feathers, and other articles pertaining to his wardrobe, which designated to the captors his high rank. Perhaps, and the surmise may not be far out of the way, this chief was suffering from a gun-shot wound inflicted in a recent fight by his pale-faced enemy, and having received one of their most dangerous potions of lead, he was not anxious for another, and therefore made his escape with the activity of a well man.
In this expedition, a company of artillery,26 who have before been described, doing duty as infantry, performed a feat that will compare well with anything of the same kind on record. These men, under the command of Lieutenant Beall, who shared all the privations of his soldiers, marched on foot through a mixture of mud and snow, nearly ankle deep, over an uneven country, from the Mosco Pass in the Valley of San Luis, to the head-waters of the Arkansas River, a distance which is computed at eighty-five miles, in thirty-six hours, including all their stoppages. This company had been long celebrated as being expert marksmen, therefore, their services were much needed when the Indian village was discovered. Although nearly broken down with fatigue, yet as soon as the electrifying news of the enemy being so near at hand reached them, it seemed to inspire them with new vigor. They dashed ahead, and gallantly led the van in this assault which terminated so favorably to the side of the Americans.
Colonel Fauntleroy was not satisfied with the victory already obtained; but, after having accomplished all that was possible for him in this quarter, and having scattered the Indians to the four winds, he determined to make forced marches in order to surprise another band of them who were supposed to be located in a distant mountain haunt well known to his guide. His object in thus hurrying away from the scenes of his late triumph, was to reach and surprise the Indians before their friends had time to travel to and apprise them of their defeat. In this manœuvre he was also successful. He came upon this second band also before they were aware of their danger. They were routed, and after severe loss were followed far into the mountains. At this camp, Blanco, the celebrated Apache chief, was driven to such close quarters that he evidently began to feel that the safety of his whole tribe stood in jeopardy. He made his appearance on a high point of rocks and asked the white men who occupied the plain beneath for a parley, which was granted him. He said, in the Spanish language, that he and his Indians wished to make peace; that they were tired of fighting. In reply, he was informed that the terms he demanded would be listened to on his coming into the soldiers' camp. He was going on to say that he was afraid to trust himself there, when a bullet was sent whizzing by his head, which caused him to decamp in all haste. It was ascertained, afterwards, that a Mexican, who had great antipathy to this chief, had, unknown to the rest of the party, crept secretly up into the rocks. When he had reached a place where Blanco was within the range of his rifle, he fired; but, as the reader has inferred, he missed an accurate aim.
At this latter camp or village, and near the close of this same day, another incident happened which will long be remembered by those who witnessed it. Two Indians who probably had been absent to some distant section of the country, having no knowledge of the matters which had lately been transpiring, were seen approaching. Gradually, they drew near to a cotton-wood grove of trees in which the soldiers were resting, thinking no doubt, that they were there about to meet their friends. A mountaineer by the name of Stewart, who commanded the Spy company, and another man, one of the Mexican Volunteers, immediately on seeing the Indians, sprang upon the backs of their horses which chanced to be near by, and started out to attack them. Not until these Indians saw the men advancing, were they made aware of their danger; when instantly they turned around their animals, and put them on a keen run for the nearest mountain. They were pursued and the race hotly contested for at least two miles; but, the Indians succeeded in making their escape, although shots were fired at them, and returned by the Indians. In doing so, one of them was obliged to dismount and leave his horse behind him, which fell into the hands of his pursuers.
At the time that the chief Blanco was endeavoring to gain a parley, a stirring scene was being enacted at the soldiers' camp, which was several miles distant. Most of the soldiers had left it and were then out engaged in the business of scouring the country. In the camp there were all the pack animals, provisions, luggage etc., of the command. To guard this property there were only about fifty men left, who, anticipating no danger, were employing themselves in cooking and otherwise providing for the wants of their absent friends against their return. The herd of mules was scattered about, and grazing under the charge of a few herders. Suddenly a band of about one hundred warriors, were discovered coming down the little valley where the camp was located. The alarm was given, when each man seizing his rifle, rushed to place himself in the line of sentinels which were forming around the property. The mules were quickly driven together in a compact body into the centre of the camp. Hardly had this movement been performed, before the red men came galloping by. Seeing the smallness of the force opposed to them, they made two or three attempts at an attack on the weakest points of the lines. They were about to succeed, when a shout went up from the Americans, who descried relief in the shape of the foot company which, having been left behind for one night in order to make easy marches and thus partially rest themselves, was now approaching. The Indians saw the near approach of this powerful reinforcement, and using that discretion which is often the better part of valor, they started off and were soon lost sight of. Had not this reinforcement providentially thus arrived, the Indians would have certainly captured the pack mules belonging to the soldiers, and got away with them. Never was succor hailed with more delight, than on this occasion; for, had the red men succeeded in this endeavor, the benefits of this whole campaign would have been greatly frustrated.
Colonel Fauntleroy, after thoroughly scouring the adjacent country in the hope of meeting with parties of straggling Indians, but, as the result proved, without success, returned to Fort Massachusetts, where he had the satisfaction of learning that Colonel St. Vrain, in his expedition, had caught other bands of these same Indians, and most severely chastised them.
The Fort Massachusetts here referred to has recently been abandoned and another one has been built, distant about six miles from the original site. The name is retained for the new defences, which are located on the river Trinchera. The present location is picturesque, and beautiful in the extreme.
In one of his fights, Col. St. Vrain had overtaken the red men on the prairies, where a running battle ensued, in which the volunteers killed many of the enemy, and made several prisoners. During this skirmish, the Indians tried the ruse of setting fire to the prairie grass, and, as the wind was blowing in the direction from which their foes were coming, they hoped thereby to impede their progress, and thus give themselves time to escape; but the volunteers boldly rode through the flames, and successfully continued the chase.
The time for which the New Mexican volunteers had enlisted, was fast drawing to a close; but, as the hostile Utahs and Apaches were scattered to the four winds, it was thought best not to send out again a regularly appointed force to act against them. Instead, while awaiting the effect of their late telling blows, it was decided to be judicious to keep out, in different directions, small scouting parties, who could better follow the trails of the small parties of fugitive Indians with some prospect of success. It was now the season for the richly laden caravans to arrive on the borders of the territory, and perchance they might fall in with bands of the hostile savages of sufficient strength to cause them trouble; or, it might be, the Indians would combine in sufficient strength, being driven by pressing want, to capture some one of these trains, and thus obtain the material for renewing the contest. In view of these apprehensions, it was decided that the regular troops should go out on the plains, where they could be on hand ready to afford protection in case of need. Major Blake, in command of the dragoons, started out and faithfully performed this mission. After this duty was fully accomplished, he visited the mountains to the northeast of Fort Massachusetts, and then returned to Taos viâ the fort and the intervening Mexican towns.
While intimating the dangers which may befall trains on their journey across the plains, especially in time of Indian war, it may be well to narrate a fatal adventure which once happened to a mail party while traveling this route. Not many miles from Fort Union, and on the plains, there is a clump of hills known as the "Wagon Mound," so called from their resemblance to one of those peculiar wagons which are used to transport valuable freight across the country. It being dangerous times, a party of ten picked men had been sent out to insure the safe transit of the mail. Everything went well with the little band of travelers, and their prospects were becoming bright for making a safe journey, when, suddenly, a large band of hostile Apaches and Utahs hove in sight. The mail party, on making this discovery, immediately halted and prepared for a fight. The Indians very soon granted to them this favor. At first, the attack was sharply maintained, but, at last, fortune favored the whites, for the time being, and they succeeded in repulsing their foes, who retreated out of sight. The mail party, being thus freed from the unpleasant society of the Indians, at once hitched up their teams and proceeded on their route. It was afterwards learned that the Apaches made the first attack, but, they were countenanced by the Utahs, who remained close by. On the return of the unsuccessful war party of Apaches to the Utahs, the latter at once commenced charging them with cowardice, and boasted that they could have done better. The true state of the case was, that the Utahs were using the Apaches as tools by which to gain plunder, crying "go dog," while they themselves were keeping out of harm's way. The anger of the Apaches was fully aroused at these derisive imputations. Under the new impulse, they said to the Utahs, if you will help, we will return and show you whether we are afraid to meet these pale-faces. Another attack having been decided upon, the Indians set out and overtook the mail party once more near to this "Wagon Mound." It was snowing fast at the time, therefore, the white men were comfortably traveling in their vehicles and had their guns protected with suitable coverings to prevent their being injured, for they anticipated no further danger. The curtains of the mail wagons were all fastened down, and there was no look-out kept, for it was considered sufficient to prepare for the furies of the storm. The Indians accordingly approached unperceived and made such a desperate attack that all the white men were quickly killed. Not one, if the boasts of the Indians can be believed, had time to get out from his seat. Several days elapsed and no tidings were heard of the expected mail party; therefore, a body of men started out in quest of the missing men and found them sleeping the last sleep which knows no awakening. The bodies of the dead were decently interred; and, since that day, the "Wagon Mound" is pointed out to the traveler accompanied with a historical account of this awful tragedy.
During the campaign under consideration, several Indian children were captured. These were generally under the age of ten years. They could not stand the kindly-planned treatment which they received while in bondage, for many of them died from over-eating, after having so long been accustomed to Indian frugality. One of the women prisoners taken, openly declared, and there is no reason why she should not be believed, that many of the younger children belonging to her tribe had been strangled by their parents and friends in order to prevent their becoming an inconvenience, and thus prevent their being able to prosecute the war, thereby showing that their hatred of the white man was deeply rooted, and that their anger had been aroused to its highest degree. On the publishing of peace, those Indian children who still lived, were collected, and, through the Indian agents, restored to their relatives and friends. The good effect which the moral of this campaign had on the surrounding Indian nations cannot be denied. They soon became loud in proclaiming their friendships for the Americans. Taking advantage of the now crippled condition of the Utahs and Apaches, their enemies the Arrapahoes and Cheyennes were ready to pounce upon them at a moment's warning. The opportunity did not, however, present itself until long after peace had been established with the white men, when the Utahs and Apaches had been able to recover from their losses and collect again.
War party after war party of Cheyennes and Arrapahoes entered the country of their old enemies the Apaches and Utahs, but returned unable to find them. Yellow Bear, a head war chief of the Arrapahoes, did not accompany his braves on these expeditions, and he would not believe that they could not find either the Apaches or Utahs; therefore, to show his people that there was one warrior living of the olden stamp, he started, accompanied only by his youngest squaw, to meet and fight them. A severe snow-storm compelled this noble chieftain to come into Fort Massachusetts. While he was there the commanding officer of the post endeavored to dissuade him from his rash undertaking. In reply the chief said:
"Captain, my young men are no longer warriors. They have become squaws. I sent them to seek our nation's enemies. They went, discovered their fires and counted their lodges, but were afraid to attack them. I am now on my way to find the Utah village, where I intend, either to smoke the pipe of peace, or offer fight to any three of their chiefs. If they kill me otherwise than fairly, perhaps it will stir up once more the fire in the breast of the warriors of the Arrapahoe nation."
This speech was delivered with so much pathos, and yet with such an oratorical air, that the interpreter was enabled to catch and translate every word of it. Yellow Bear was now informed of the recent campaign against the Utahs and Apaches, but the news made no change in his determination. The advice was words thrown away, as he was found conversant with the whole proceedings of the campaign. We have brought in this incident to show how surrounding tribes are directly affected and personally interested in the results of all military transactions with hostile Indians. As we have taken up for a theme the story of this brave and really noble Indian, it may prove interesting to some of our readers if we complete the picture. Yellow Bear has always been the firm friend of Kit Carson both by word and action. He is the finest specimen of an Indian that the writer ever laid eyes on. He stands in his moccasins over six feet; is straight and symmetrically proportioned. The head, however, is the main attraction of this Indian. Never was a statesman possessed of a better. We once heard him address a large council of his warriors, and, although we could not understand one word he said, yet our attention was fixed on the man, for we never saw either before or since such majestic gestures, mixed with equal grace, in any speaker. It was a master-piece of acting, and from the "humphs," or grunts, ejaculated by his auditors, we were inclined to think that the speech was impressive. There is one great point about this chief which those who are familiar with the Indian race, as they now exist, cannot but admire. He has never been known to beg; rather than do this, we believe, he would actually starve. We will finish this description of Yellow Bear by adding that he finally listened to the advice of the then commanding officer of Fort Massachusetts, and returned to his own nation.