USA > Idaho > The history of Idaho > Part 24
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The Renegade Sheep Eater Indians made their way back to their old haunts by going through the unsettled high lands east of Powder River Valley, and crossed Snake River in the moun- tains below the settlements and passed on through the mountains safe to their old home near the Lemhi. The Malheurs had but little trouble to reach their reservation on the Malheur in East- ern Oregon. The Duck Valley Indians had an unsettled moun- tainous country to travel through to reach their happy reserva- tion home.
But it was different with the Bannock Indians whose home was at the Rossfork Indian Agency near Pocatello in the eastern part of Idaho. These Bannock Indians were the ones who commenced the war, and there were more of them engaged in the war than there were of any other tribe of Indians. As soon as they got far enough away from the troops to be out of danger, they left the mountainous country and came down onto the Snake River valley a few miles below what is known as the Owyhee ferry on Snake River. Here they travelled openly and boldly up the valley, cap- turing all the loose range horses on their route. When they were travelling in this way on the south side of the river with a few of their braves ahead as a front guard, on July 31st, when oppo- site the Owyhee ferry about two miles south of the ferry on the main road leading to Silver City, they saw the stage coming and they concealed themselves among the sagebrush and waited for the stage to come. The driver, Mr. Hemmingway, was alone. He
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saw some of these Indians and their horses, some two hundred yards from the place where they were lying in wait for him. As soon as he discovered them, he checked his team and turned them around, and drove back to the ferry as fast as possible. But the moment he started to turn his team, the Indians commenced to firc at him. They mounted their horses and chased him to within a few hundred yards of the ferry. The keeper of the ferry and a few others living on the north side of the river heard the shoot- ing, and seeing the stage coming back and the Indians after it, they gathered their arms and crossed over with the ferry boat, reaching the south bank landing just as the stage got there. The men went up the bank and fired a few shots at the Indians and they galloped away. The driver drove the stage on to the boat, but the poor fellow had received a mortal wound through his breast. He was lifted from the stage and taken across the river to the house and given the best care possible. A messenger was sent post haste to Boise for a doctor, who was sent out at once, but it was of no avail, the wound proved fatal and Mr. Hemmingway passed away that evening.
The post carrier brought word that a large body of these In- dians was seen traveling up Snake River on the south side about the time he left the ferry. The first thing the writer of this did, after starting Dr. Mckay and another man out with a good team. and buggy, was to give orders for a small company of minute vol- unteers to get ready to march as soon as possible. I then went to Fort Boise and got Major Collins, who was in command there, to send all the troops he could possibly spare to the Owyhee ferry on Snake River. He only had about thirteen men, and he sent eight of them. I returned at once to Boise where my volunteers, thirty in number, were almost ready to march. We left in a few minutes, traveling east on the Overland stage and freight road, for the Cold Spring country sixty-five miles from Boise where there were several settlers with their families besides the stage employes, stage stock and other property. I felt sure that from the course the Indians were traveling that they would cross Snake River at what is called Big Bend, thirty miles south of the Cold Springs settlement, and raid that settlement if we did not get there ahead of them, because this was one of their old traveled routes.
Our outfit was not very elaborate. We were all mounted on good horses with good guns and pistols. Each man had one pair of blankets tied on behind his saddle, one tin cup, a small amount of thin side bacon, forty pounds of crackers, a small amount of coffee, tea and sugar all put into a pair of alforjas and well lashed on one good stout mule. The sun was just setting as we
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left Boise. We reached Cold Spring the next day at ten o'clock a. m. After traveling all night, very tired and hungry, raw bacon, crackers, and tea made in tin cups, tasted about as good as a breakfast at a Delmonico restaurant. We got there before the Indians did. After getting our lunch, we went to gather in the few families who resided in that locality. Having gotten them all in at the Cold Spring station that afternoon, we sent them that night to Mountain Home station, with a strong guard mounted on horseback, where they arrived safely about daylight the next morn- ing. From Mountain Home, our men returned to Cold Springs, and the families were escorted by some of the settlers on to Boise.
That day, August 2nd, we scoured the country for several miles around; sent six men down in the vicinity of the Big Bend of Snake River where we expected these Indians would cross from south to the north side and come up through the Cold Springs country. Our scouting party did not get back to camp until after dark. They reported that they saw quite a large party of Indians, about twenty miles distant, moving slowly in the direction of our camp. They seemed to have a front guard of about a dozen men. Our scouts exchanged a few shots at long distance with this front guard without any apparent damage to either side. One bullet from the Indians cut through the brim of Jesse Hailey's hat, but did no other damage. They saw the large body of Indians close behind the front guard. Our scouts then returned to camp.
We prepared ourselves for an attack that night and kept out a strong guard. Early the next morning twenty-six of our thirty men were in the saddle scouring the country in the direction we expected the Indians to come. We left four men at the station with the stage stock tender and a few other men who resided in that locality. After scouring the country in small parties east, south and west for several miles over the rough sagebrush plain, we all met at a creek about five miles west of Cold Springs station- no sign of Indians reported by anyone. Men and horses were very tired. I directed First Lieutenant John S. Gray to stop on this creek, water the horses and let them graze and the men rest, while I went west about two miles to a gulch that led from the moun- tain down on the sagebrush plains, as possibly the Indians might have passed up this gulch in the night to get to the mountains. Lieutenant Gray ordered the men to dismount. I struck out on a gallop. I had not gone far until I heard horses' feet clattering behind me. I looked back and saw James N. Lawrence, one of my volunteers, crowding close on to me. I said: "Hello, Jim, what did you come for? Why did you not stay with the other men and rest until I got back?" He said, in that quiet but determined way he
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had of speaking, "I did not like to see you go alone." These words were few-simple and plain-but they made a lasting im- pression on my mind. They meant: "We are in a country where there are hostile Indians, and you are liable to run onto them and have trouble. I am going to be and stay with you through what- ever comes."
We soon reached the gulch, and there was the plain trail made the night before by the Indians and the stock they had, fifty yards wide-the grass all tramped down. Their course was toward the mountains in an easterly direction. We went back to where our men were, had them mount and we started in a northerly di- rection up the creek and struck the Indian trail at the foot of the mountain, where they had crossed the creek and had evidently stopped the night before long enough to kill a cow and cook a part of it, leaving a part of the carcass there. They left the trail and went up the eastern slope of a high, steep mountain that was cov- ered with a thick growth of brush, making it very slow and difficult to ride over. It was late in the afternoon when we reached the summit of this mountain. Here we soon found a good, plain trail the Indians had taken, leading down the mountain in a northeast- erly direction. This trail was very steep, but was only about a mile and a half down through timber until we reached a nice open small valley half to three-quarters of a mile wide. There the trail and sign of fresh travel were plain. We strung out here in single file and made good time, crossing this little valley to the foot of a large, bold mountain. Here we found the Indians had left the trail that led down the valley and had gone up this mountain. We followed, about one mile to the summit. From there, looking down east half a mile in a canyon where there was a good supply of tim- ber, we could see large quantities of smoke. We were then satisfied that the smoke came from Indian camps. We divided our men quickly into three divisions, nine to go up on the north side of the camp, nine on the south side, and the other seven and myself to charge into the Indians' camp. We moved on as rapidly as the rough country would admit of our crowding our tired horses over. Every man was ready and performed his part well. But when we charged the camp, all we found was eight big fires burning; bread, meat, coffee and tea cooking, lots of Indian fixings, such as blankets, old clothes, buffalo robes, etc., scattered around. They had seen us before we got there, and had made a hasty retreat.
We only stopped in the camp a minute to find the course the Indians had taken, which was down the rough canyon, no trail ex- cept what they made as they went, the timber and small under- growth being thick. We called to our men on the sides to fall in
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behind on the Indian trail, and away we went down that rough canyon. Every little ways we would pass over some of their camp equipage that they had dropped, or that had been dragged from their pack horses by the small crooked trees on the route. We passed several horses in this canyon they had left in their haste to get away from us. We followed their trail down this canyon about six miles, until darkness came on so we could not see to follow it further. Our men and horses were very tired and hungry. We rested a few minutes, and concluded we would try and go back to the camp from which we had routed these Indians, gather in the horses they had left and destroy their camp supplies.
We started back on this rough trail in the dark, most of us leading our saddle horses, for they were tired out. Soon the moon began to give us a little light so we managed to make our way back to the camp left by the Indians, reaching there about twelve o'clock that night. On and near the trail we gathered in about twenty horses, left by the Indians in their flight. We unsaddled and put our horses out to graze near by with a guard. Each of us had a few crackers and a small piece of raw bacon in our cantenas, which we devoured with a relish. There was a spring of fine, cool water there, and we all drank freely of it. There was an abundance of the Indian grub there already cooked-beef, bread, coffee, tea, etc., but we were afraid to eat any of it. We rested here until daylight. I then looked the camp over. There were several things in the line of robes, buckskins, etc., that some of the men might need. I called them up and told them to select what each one wanted, and wo would burn the balance. This was soon done, and we re-kindled the eight fires the Indians had had the evening before, and we piled on and burnt the balance of their camp outfit, which kept the fires a-booming more than an hour.
We then saddled our horses and started down the canyon on the same rough trail, hoping we might run onto some Indians coming back to get their supplies and lost horses. We had the horses, which we had captured, driven along in the rear. We followed their trail a short distance further than the night before. We discovered that the course they were traveling was a straight course toward the Ross Fork Indian reservation. We were not in a condition to follow them any further in the mountains-we, as well as our horses, were pretty well tired out, and we did not have a single bit of anything to eat-but we were all in good condition for an engagement with the Indians if we could have gotten a chance at them.
After some little consultation, it was thought best for us to try and get back on to the Overland stage road, where we could get something to eat and see what had become of the few men we had
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left at Cold Springs station. None of us ever having been in this part of the country before, we did not know how far we were from the road, nor could we tell just which way it was best to go to get out of the rough mountains. None wanted to go back on the long, circuitous route over which we had come, so we struck in a southerly direction and we soon got on to the headwaters of Cold Spring creek and followed it down, having a fairly good old Indian trail to travel on. This was the trail the Indians intended to have traveled had they not been flustrated by our scouts.
On our way down the creek we saw a few Indians a long way off driving a few horses. We started for them. As soon as they saw us they left their loose horses and ran to the rough mountains and were soon lost from our sight. We got the loose horses they were driving, which they had stolen from a rancher lower down the valley. This was a small party of their best warriors, who had left the main band a few days before for the purpose of murdering and stealing.
We reached Cold Springs station, where we had left our four men with others, about dark after a hard day's march, and were informed by some men there that our four men had moved down the creek about three miles, to Dan and William McGinniss' place, and had left word for us to come down there; that Dan and William McGinniss had killed a nice, fat beef and we could get plenty to eat and plenty of hay for our horses, all free of charge. Supplies were short at Cold Springs station, so we struck out for the McGin- nis' ranch and were not long getting there. We were not disap- pointed when we got there. McGinnis had three or four men and our four, who were left, all went to cooking. Mr. McGinnis assigned two lots to us for our horses, with a good-sized haystack near by, with hay forks for us to help ourselves, which we did. By the time we got our horses fed and back to the house, the long table was smoking with hot beefsteaks, hot bread, coffee, etc. I don't remember that any of us washed our hands or faces. Every man made for a beefsteak, a piece of bread and a tin cup of coffee. There was not room at the table for more than half of us. But there was plenty cooked for all, so the old adage, "fingers were made before tables and dishes," was exemplified there, and all went to eating at once and had plenty.
After supper I learned that Mr. McGinnis had lost the day be- fore a nice little bunch of mares with a fine stallion. I was sitting down outside of the house thinking over how good and kind the McGinniss brothers had been to us and how sorry I was to hear of his losing a nice bunch of thirteen fine horses, when it occurred to me that the bunch of horses we had captured that day were all nice
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looking and about that number, though I had not paid particular attention to them. I had had them put in with the horses we had captured from the Indians before, and they were driven behind the command by two of our men. While I was thinking over this mat- ter, Dan McGinnis came walking by. I called to him and made in- quiry about his lost horses, and said, "Go with me to the corral and see the horses we captured from the Indians. It may be we have gotten yours." As soon as we got inside-the moon was shining bright,-"Why," said McGinnis, "there are my lost bunch of horses standing over there in that corner to themselves." He was greatly pleased, and so was I, for I felt then that we had done something for him in return for his generous treatment to all of us. All the men were greatly pleased to find that we had been able to return these horses to their owners, who had treated us so well. We rested some that night, and had a good breakfast the next morning, Aug- ust 5th.
The McGinnis brothers insisted on our making our headquarters at their ranch, where they would furnish us with plenty to eat for ourselves and our horses. That day we divided up in four squads of six and scoured the country thoroughly in every direction, but could find no Indians nor any fresh signs. We rounded in at the McGinnis ranch late that evening, where we found a good supper waiting for us, and rested that night.
Being satisfied that there were no more Indians in that part of the country and knowing that most of the men who went out with me had business at their homes in Boise which required their atten- tion, after breakfast on the morning of August 6th, and after tendering them my sincere thanks for the noble and good work they had done in preventing the Indians from murdering the un- protected people and destroying their property, I made provision for meals and horse feed for them on the road and directed them to return to Boise to their respective homes.
It was necessary for me to stay a few days more to arrange the running of the Overland stage line, which had been somewhat disarranged during this trouble. Here I was again surprised by two of my old friends, who have since passed away. All of my men prepared to start except the late J. B. Oldham, who was then sheriff, and the late Judge John S. Gray. I asked them why they were not getting their horses ready to go with the other men. Each one of them said to me "We intend to stay with you until you are ready to go home. We will not go and leave you to ride around from one stage station to another alone. We are going to stay with you, and help you until you get this stage business fixed up, if it takes all summer." Such noble, good and true men!
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Language fails me when I attempt to express my gratitude. They, like Mr. Lawrence, feared there might be danger and they were ready, willing and determined to share that danger with me. Brave, noble, good men! I hope they are at rest in a happy land where there are no Indian wars.
All left that morning, August 7th, for Boise excepting us three, Gray, Oldham and myself. We put in three days riding back and forth on the stage road, leading and placing some of the stock at their proper stations, where they had been removed during the trouble.
After getting everything in good running order and finding no more signs of Indians, on the morning of August 9th we started for Boise. About noon that day we met about two hundred of Uncle Sam's troops, all well mounted, under command of Colonel Bernard. They were moving along nicely in a brisk walk and they did look fine, both officers and men, arms and horses. None of them looked as if they had seen any hard service lately. We had a pleasant chat with the Colonel. He made inquiries about the Indians. We informed him that the Indians had passed through that country one week before, presumably on their way to the Indian reservation; that we had given them a scare, captured most of their supplies and some of their horses, and that the last we heard of them they were on a forced march toward the Indian reservation, where they could get plenty of Uncle Sam's grub, have a good rest and be good Indians for awhile, which place they had doubtless reached before that time. The Colonel was acting under orders from his superior officer, General Howard, who was still further behind. Colonel Bernard put in a number of days scouring the country with his troops, but did not find any Indians. He was a good Indian fighter and quick mover of troops, when allowed to have his own way; and had he not been hampered with the slow and dilatory orders of his superior officer, we think this Indian war would have been closed long before it was.
I must not fail to mention the fact that our old friend, the late Captain H. J. G. Maxon, who resided several miles down the valley west of Boise City, had organized a company of about sixty men from among the settlers in the valley some time before, who were to hold themselves in readiness to go at any time when called on to protect life and property on the frontier. The Captain did not hear of the anticipated trouble with the Indians in the Cold Springs country until the next day after we had left Boise. But as soon as he heard of the danger, he gathered his men, who were on their farms, as quickly as possible and they started out late at night, some thirty hours after we had. They made good time.
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They went into the mountainous country east of Mountain Home stage station and scoured the country well and had a hard and laborious trip. They did not find any Indians, but they did good service. Captain Maxon was an old Indian fighter and had a lot of good, brave men with him. If they had ever gotten into an engagement with the Indians, there is no doubt but what they would have acquitted themselves well.
Another we must not fail to speak of-the late Captain George M. Parsons and his brave volunteers, from the Rocky Bar min- ing district, which is situated nearly one hundred miles north of the Cold Springs country. At the first outbreak of this Indian War in May, Captain Parsons organized a company of some forty volunteers at Rocky Bar from among the mining men. They went to the scene of the first outbreak on Camas Prairie and scoured the country thoroughly for many miles in all directions, but found the Indians had crossed Snake River and gone west and the U. S. troops were after them, so they went back to their homes. But as soon as Captain Parsons heard of the Indians coming back through the Cold Springs country, he got his men together quickly and started and searched the country thoroughly in the moun- tains north and east of Cold Springs, but found no Indians. It was not their fault. They got through as quickly as it was possi- ble for men to get there after they received the news, but we had run the Indians off before they got there. Captain Parsons and all his men, as well as Captain Maxon and all of his men, deserve great credit for their quick and prompt action in this matter. They showed their patriotism and, if they had only had an oppor- tunity to have engaged the Indians in mortal combat, they would no doubt have shown their bravery and good fighting qualities.
Well, Messrs. John S. Gray, J. B. Oldham and myself reached Boise on the afternoon of August 10th, 1878, pretty tired but well. Our men with the captured horses had reached Boise three days before, all safe. Here we met General Howard for the first time. He was in camp at the east end of town. He seemed very pleas- ant. The first words he spoke to me, after our greeting, were, "Hailey, I want you to tell me how you managed to move troops as fast as you have been moving your men over the country." My answer was, "General, my men were all well mounted. We were not encumbered with slow, heavy-loaded pack trains and wagons to wait for. Besides we were not under pay; we went out ex- pressly for the purpose of saving the lives and property of the people from destruction by the Indians. We accomplished our main object, and that without the shedding of blood on either side. The Indians have gone to their reservation, and I think the
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war is over." The General seemed satisfied with my answer,-in fact rather pleased with the last part of it. We had a pleasant talk for half an hour. I must say that I believe that General Howard was a good man and brave on a battle field, but he did not seem to understand how to move his troops fast enough in this mountainous country to catch the Indians.
This proved to be the end of the war. Just how many lives were lost, and how much property was destroyed and taken by the Indians, I have no means of knowing with any degree of ac- curacy, but there were many good citizens killed, and many thou- sands of dollars worth of property taken and destroyed. It has been now nearly thirty years since this war closed, and we have had no serious trouble with any of the tribes engaged in that war since, and we hope that we never will again.
Before closing this, I desire to call attention to the valuable service that was performed on many occasions by two of our old settlers, James D. Dunn and John R. Carpenter, in the capacity of express messengers for the United States officers. These two brave pioneers carried messages from one command to another many times during the war through the country where the hos- tile Indians were. Alone, each would go with untiring energy, bravery and good judgment. They always got through on good time, and saved their hair. These good old boys are still living. Mr. Dunn lives at Bellevue, Idaho, and Mr. Carpenter resides at Eagle, nine miles west of Boise. Long may they live to enjoy the peace that they helped to bring around in this war!
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