USA > Kansas > Barton County > Biographical History of Barton County, Kansas > Part 2
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We had some more fighting now and then until we reached Fort Bent, after which we were out of the hostile country; and reached Santa Fe in safety, with what we had left of men and animals. We lost no wagons, and carried our cargo entirely through.
INDIAN FIGHT ON LOWREY'S ISLAND OPPOSITE LARNED IN 1860
From Governor Isaac Sharp's Diary
By Major Henry Inman of Larned
I 'T was a magnificent September day in the early part of that month in the year 1860. The amber mist of the glorious Indian Summer hung in light clouds over the rippling Pawnee, and the sheen of the noon-day sun on the Arkansas made that silent stream, where it broadens out lake-like, towards the now thriving little village of Garfield, sparkle and scintillate until it was painful for the eyes to rest upon. The low group of sand-hills loomed up white and silvery, like the chalk cliffs of Dover. The box-elders and cottonwoods that fringed the tributaries to the rivers were rap- idly donning their Autumn dress of russet, and the mirage had already, in the early morn- ings, commenced its weird and fantastic play with the landscape.
Under the shadow of the bluff, where Lar- ned now reposes so picturesquely, hundreds of buffaloes were grazing, and on the plateau above the crest of the hill, a few sentinel an- telopes were guarding their charge, now quiet-
ly ruminating their morning's meal in the rav- ines running towards the river.
Near where Brown's Grove is now located, under the grateful shade of the thickest clumps of timber, about forty wigwams were irregu- larly scattered, and on the hills a herd of two or three hundred ponies were lazily feeding, guarded by half a dozen superannuated squaws, and a troup of dusky little children, who were chasing the yellow butterflies from the now dried and dying sun flower stalks that so conspiciously marked the broad trail to the river. This beautiful spot was selected by Black Kettle, chief of the Cheyennes, for his winter camp, where only a few weeks pre- viously he had moved from the Canadian, and settled with his band to hunt on the Arkansas Bottom, and watch his enemies, the Pawnees, who claimed the same ground, and where year after year the most sanguinary battles between the two tribes had been fought. Apart from the remainder of the wigwams, and near the
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OF BARTON COUNTY, KANSAS
edge of the stream was the magnificent lodge of Yellow Buffalo, the war chief of the Chey- ennes. This lodge was formed of beautifully porcupined and beaded robes, and its interior was graced with a long row of scalps-the trophies of his fame as a great warrior.
On the morning of the date above mention- ed, I had reached the Arkansas at a point a few miles east of the mouth of the Pawnee, on my way to Fort Larned from my ranch on Sharp's Creek, (now in McPherson county,) and when near where Larned now stands I noticed a large body of Indians in a stooping attitude, as though hunting for something, and I supposed them to be some of my Knowa friends on the trail of an enemy. I spurred my horse and rode toward them, when all of a sudden they dropped in the grass, which con- vinced me of the error of my first supposition. I was acquainted at that time with nearly all the tribes on the plains, and particularly those who would probably be in that vicinity then, and with a fair knowledge of the Indian char- acter, I readily concluded that my covey in the grass were a band of "Dog-Soldiers," of some tribe, either on the war-path against some of the other tribes that roamed in the valley of the Arkansas, or a party to steal horses, and in either event I had nothing to fear, as the report of a gun would be the last thing they would want to hear just then.
So I rode on, and when within a hundred yards or so of the Indians, one rose, and holding both hands up with palms to the front, in his own dialect called my name. I then felt considerably relieved for I found myself among thirty-two Pawnees, who, as I first supposed, were there to steal horses from the Cheyennes or Kiowas. On hearing this fact, I told them that a few miles back on the trail, I had seen a large number of Indians on the high prairie, scattered out as if surrounding buffalo, or elk, but that I had seen no game, and now I knew their presence was known to the Arkansas tribes, and that there were so many of these wild Indians that the few Pawnees would all be killed if found.
They then told me they wanted to reach the island in the river, and there they could fight all the "Ingins" that would dare come, and if they got to the island before the wild Indians found them, I must go to them and tell them that they were there, and myself come and see the fight. That if I staid on my horse, either on the east or west side of the island, or on the hill on the northwest, I could see it all and be safe from their bullets; and if they all got killed I should tell their people how grandly and bravely they died.
I left them and went on towards the Fort, and when within three miles of it, met "Yel- low Buffalo" with some two hundred of his warriors, with their paint on and beating their drums.
"Yellow Buffalo" was then about thirty years old, and as grand a looking Indians as I ever saw. I delivered my message from the
Pawnees to him, immediately upon which the two hundred warriors raised the war-cry, which echoed and reverberated in all the splen- dor of its savage grandeur over the prairie, and which none but those who have heard it under such circumstances, can appreciate.
Stung to the heart by my message of defi- ance, "Yellow Buffalo" appeared the true sav- age that he was, and the ferocity of his wild nature glared in his eyes as he thought of the deep wrongs done to his tribe by the "dogs of Pawnees!" as he called them, and appealed to his men that "now was the time presented to theni, to not only reap an adequate revenge, but add lasting laurels to their wreaths as brave and skilful warriors."
We were a little south of the old Santa Fe trail, and he ordered his band to turn nearly dûe south and then we loped off in the direc- tion of the island. As we neared the river bank we saw the last of the Pawnees, who had been watching our approach, plunge into the stream and reach the island in safety, as our advance halted on the spot where now rests the north end of the Larned bridge. It was now about 2 o'clock in the afternoon. The Cheyennes dis- mounted, and every tenth man went to the rear to hold the horses and guard them from a possible flank movement on the part of the Pawnees. I was honored by "Yellow Buffalo" with the privilege of taking care of my own horse-which I am happy to say I did from a position on the south end of the hill west of town, and as near the river as was prudent for a non-combatant. Nearly all the Cheyennes were armed with muzzle-loading rifles, and a third of them had large Colt's army revol- vers. At the command of their chief, "Yel- low Buffalo," the Cheyennes formed a line of battle, which seemed to extend up and down the river the whole length of the island, while five or six of them acted as flankers. uring five or six of them acted as flankers. During to be seen.
In those days the island was covered only with thick willows, which concealed the watch- ful Pawnees, who were rather better armed than the Cheyennes each having a Spencer car- bine and two revolvers, either army or navy pattern, besides their bows and quivers well filled with arrows. When all was in readiness, and "Yellow Buffalo" had made a proper dis- position of his forces, he gave the order to charge! Upon hearing his clear voice ring across the prairie, his warriors responded with a most unearthly yell, that seemed to shake even the eternal dunes of sand on the opposite side of the river, and then rushed pell-mell into the Arkansas. The water was waist high, and as they advanced they still kept up the infernal yell until they reached within ten feet of the island, when, like a flash of light from a clear sky, came a sheet of flame from the edge of the willows, promptly responded to by the braves in the water.
In an instant however, much to my sur-
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BIOGRAPHICAL HISTORY
prise, the Pawnees delivered from their ranks another volley, followed immediately by the quick sharp crack of revolvers, which seemed to completely overwhelm and discomfort the Cheyennes, all of whom beat a hasty retreat to the main land. Their war-whoop ceased the instant they commenced their backward march, and in a moment some twenty of the Pawnees appeared above the willows and kept up a well directed fire on their foes until the latter reached the bank of the river.
In this single charge of the Cheyennes, thirteen were killed and twenty-three wounded evincing a coolness and deliberation on the part of the Pawnees, not excelled by the best organized troops. The Cheyennes, in their charge, showed their characteristic reckless- ness and daring, but which counted for noth- ing in results, as all the bullets were carried clear over the heads of the Pawnees who were concealed by the friendly willows.
While the main body of the Pawnees were keeping up their almost incessant fire upon the retreating Cheyennes, three or four others rose at opposite ends of the island, and opened with some well delivered shots with their car- bines at the Cheyenne flankers, so that the whole number became demoralized, and "Yel- low Buffalo" with all his painted warriors, fled as far back as where the Rev. R. M. Over- street's church now stands on Main street, and held a council.
"Yellow Buffalo" then dispatched a messen- ger for reinforcements, and in about an hour they arrived from south of the river to the number of some four or five hundred, and upon their joining the other, "Yellow Buffalo" made the same disposition of his now augmented forces as he had with his original army, and
then turned his command over to "Black Ket- tle," who had come on the ground.
"Black Kettle" kept his Indians in close order, and when they reached within shooting distance of the island, the Pawnees opened upon them with a terrible volley, and the most deafening and diabolical yells, and kept it up for at least ten minutes. The poor Cheyennes returned the fire as best they could, but invar- iably overshot the Pawnees, whom they could not see, so closely were they hidden by the willows.
Meanwhile "Black Kettle" ingloriously re- treated, and then "Yellow Buffalo" felt himself no more disgraced than the "head war chief" and his chosen warriors. Thus ended this rath- er remarkable fight. I never could learn def- initely how many of the Cheyennes were killed and wounded in the second charge, but the Paw- nees told me they were double the number of the first charge, and coming as it did from the victors, I always made a reasonable allowance. The Cheyennes utterly refused to tell me the number of their loss, but I saw their wounded that night, and helped dress most of their wounds. There were twenty-eight in "Black Kettle's" camp.
On my return from the Fort next day with my mail, the Cheyennes informed me that these same Pawnees charged through the guards, and actually drove off about 200 of the Cheyenne ponies.
The Pawnees assured me they had but forty warriors, all told, and that they lost in killed and wounded but two. The Cheyennes stated however, that they found five graves in the sand, under the edge of the water, which they exhumed and left the bodies to rot, and the bones to bleach on the prairie like a coyote.
A PIONEER'S EXPERIENCE
By Homer H. Kidder of Great Bend
I N 1863, I left Michigan with the purpose of of taking a look over Kansas, principally with a view of making a home and going into business. At Kansas City I met with Kit Carson, the famous Indian scout, and Wm. Bent, the builder of Bent's old Fort, near the mouth of the Purgatoire river in Colorado. They were then preparing to take a trip west, and knowing I would never have a better chance, I gladly accepted their invitation and accompanied them.
From Kansas City Kit Carson, Mr. Bent, Charley Rath and myself went up the river to Leavenworth; there we joined a mule train of about ten wagons. We came by way of To- peka (then quite a small town), and Council Grove.
In September we arrived at the mouth of Walnut Creek, and went into camp about an
hour before sunset, and, while knowing full well that we were 100 miles from the nearest white settlement, yet we saw large numbers of human beings coming to us on horseback, which, on their arrival, proved to be wild In- dians; but as they were peaceable at that time we had nothing to fear, and upon taking a view of the broad green prairies, dotted here and there with clusters of Indian lodges and groupes of ponies, and in the distant back- ground could be seen large herds of buffalo, waiting quietly to become food for the Indians. It was truly the happiest hour of my existence -for it was my first sight of wild Indians and buffaloes.
The Indians arrived at our camp and dis- mounted, and, after shaking hands all round, with their "how, how," they sat down, we all smoked the pipe of peace, and after spending
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OF BARTON COUNTY, KANSAS
an hour or so in a chat, we all lay down on the ground for a sleep.
Next morning several Indians with Kit and myself went out on a buffalo chase, and within half an hour ran into a fine herd of them, and after a short run we had several of them lying dead on the ground, some killed with arrows by the Indians and some with our bullets.
We remained in the Indian camp several days, for rest, and decided to open a trading post with them; and, after a few days more were spent in an Indian feast and making our camp convenient for business-building a cor- ral for our stock, etc .- we opened up and sold such goods as we had brought for that pur- pose. After several weeks of life with the In- dian families, enjoying the company of the beautiful Indian maidens, eating out of the same skillet with them, and partaking of their dish of "fat dog," I bade my dusky beauties adieu, and went up to Fort Larned to accept the situation of clerk in the quartermaster's office for the winter. At that time Fort Lar- ned was a small adobe fort. We had a long spell of intensely cold weather, with consid- erable of "the beautiful snow" on the ground; and during that winter many freighters lost much of their stock by freezing to death and stampeding and remaining with the buffalo. Several "bull-whackers" also froze to death that winter. But, as everything has an end, so did our bitter cold winter, and with it came our spring, when I resigned my clerkship and returned to Walnut Creek, where I built a ranch that lasted me many years during my frontier life. I located it close to the creek for the purpose of obtaining water without endangering myself from the hostile attacks of the Indians, who were then threatening to break out and go on the war-path. I had not half finished my ranch (it being slow work to cut the sod with an ax), when the Indians made a break on some freight trains enroute to Mexico, cutting off some of the hind wagons, capturing the stock and killing the drivers. This of course opened the warfare and put us all on our guard. I finally finished my ranch, and began to trade for poor and lame cattle that were brought from Mexico by freighters and drovers; and during that year found my- self in possession of a nice large herd of cat- tle, and by keeping them well guarded from the Indians I lost none of them. During the year the Indians made a great many attacks on trains, seldom failing to get the best of the bargain and carry off the scalp of some poor unfortunate who happened to be away from the main party; but as the season closed the Indians retreated to the Medicine Lodge, where they spent the winter, and made ready for a continued raid and a season fight of plunder and massacre next year.
The winter being a very mild one, my herd of stock went through in fine condition, and in the following year I increased the herd to sev- eral thousand head, and as the freighting sea- son again opened, everything seemed lively.
It was nothing uncommon to see 100 wag- ous in a double line, moving across our "Great American Desert," and it was almost a daily occurrence to see from 30 to 100 "Prairie Schooners" at once. These wagons, when un- der a full load, would contain from 4 to 6 thousand pounds, and were hauled by six yoke of oxen or six mules. All these wagons would camp on the creek, at or near my ranch, mak- ing it contain quite an army nearly every night. Such nights would usually be spent in telling yarns until a late hour, when all would take their "gunny sack" and lie down for sleep on the ground, except the night herders who were constantly on the watch till the break of day when they drove in the stock. In a moment all was astir, and within half an hour on the move, and I left alone again, with the exception of my hired help.
Thus the season continued, except an cccas- ional attack on some poor pilgrim or un- guarded train, in which, after a few moments of the most intense excitement, the Indians would usually come out victorious, having one or more blcody scalps at their belts, and were stampeding the stock across the prairies at full speed.
While engaged in herding my cattle one day ,one of my men (Jack) being near by but out of sight, fishing in the creek, a small war party of Indians came up from the river near by, and seeing a mule train about a mile off, they all made a dash on the train except one Indian, who, upon seeing me, set up such a yell as only a red devil can give, and with a drawn lance made a dash at me with the ut- most speed, intending to run me through. When about a rod from me I fired. With a piercing yell he jumped from the pony, the blood spurting from his bare breast. As he came to the ground we clenched, each one trying to get away with "his Injun." Part of the time he was on top, then again I had him down; and he, though weakening from loss of blood, got a knife from his belt and made a lunge at me, while I was grasping him in a genuine rough-and-tumble for dear life, and trying to restrain his hand. He finally suc- ceeded in thrusting the knife through my hand, and was about getting away with me, when my herdsman came in timely to the scene of action. The Indian relaxed his hold of me and fell to the ground, with a bullet through his head, and before he breathed his last I had his scalp with his own knife; and, while he has "gone to the happy hunting ground," I still carry "as a trophy" the scars of that event and the long scalp of my enemy.
The Indians would occasionally make a dive on some train and get the worst of it, having their scalps taken, which all white frontiersmen would do whenever they killed a red-skin. This was done, they said, to keep the dead warriors from going to the "happy hunting ground," the Indians claiming that anyone loosing their scalp will never go there.
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BIOGRAPHICAL HISTORY
And so the season wore on; we usually got our supplies from the passing trains; so that, in reality, our life was an easy one, yet full of excitement on account of the Indians who often tried to get our stock, but failed; until September, when they made a grand success- ful rally, and drove off all my stock, killing my herder.
The loosing of several thousand head of cattle gave me the blues, and shortly after I accepted a situation as mail carrier on the Santa Fe stage line of Barlow, Saunderson & Co., where I remained more than three years, but still keeping up my ranch, having to pass it weekly going out and returning to the States. During that time I crossed the plains 150 times.
During the fall of 1867 the Indians attack- ed a mule train, enroute for Mexico, near the mouth of Walnut Creek, cut off an ambulance from the rear end and killed an old lady and gentleman, cut the old lady in quarters, piled her clothes on the remains and set them on fire, and carried off the bleeding scalps of both at their belts.
This was the year that Fort Zarah was built and occupied by troops. During this same fall, a short distance this side of Walnut Creek four government teams loaded for Fort Lar- ned were attacked by Indians, who succeeded in killing and scalping the drivers, and run- ning off the stock. The Post Commander, thinking it not a safe place for him, kept his quarters, and gave us what we could get out of the wreck; we went out and made a nice haul of coffee, sauer kraut, beans, flour, sugar, etc.
Cow Creek crossing had many a fight be- tween freighters and Indians, and many killed on both sides. Once, when a small party (three men and one woman) with an ambu- lance, were going to Fort Harker, they were attacked about a mile east of Cow Creek cross- ing; they stopped over a deep buffalo wallow, and all got down into it for protection. While in this condition a company of troops com- manded by a captain who had been sent out to look after them, came up on the west bank of Cow Creek in plain view of the scene, and after looking at them a few moments, turned his command around for the west, without
attempting to render them any assistance. One sergeant in his company begged the cap- tain to cross the creek and relieve them, but instead of so doing the captain put the ser- geant under arrest and returned to Fort Zarah with his company, thus leaving the small party to perish at the hands of the red devils, which they most certainly would, had it not been for the timely arrival of a dozen
scouts on their way from Fort Harker to Fort Larned, who arrived on the spot just as the deserted party had used their last shots at the Indians. They killed three or four Indians, and on the other hand the Indians wound- ed the entire party. The cowardly captain was cashiered and dismissed from the service for the act.
We raised onions, tomatoes and potatoes, that year (1867) near the ranch on spaded ground, they being the first vegetables ever raised in Barton County by white men. We had rains enough to keep them in good grow- ing condition, and they matured of good size, and shape.
That fall everything went on in the usual way, the Indians taking the west end of the road above and around Fort Dodge. A mild winter followed; and when spring returned so did the Indians, who kept up their attacks dur- ing the summer at every opportunity. They kept things livelier than usual for us.
During the fall of 1868 we fought the last Indian fight of Barton County, four miles be- low where Great Bend now stands, on the Arkansas river. We numbered twelve men and the Indians about seventy-five. We fought them for three hours, killing and wounding several, also killing several ponies. We lost two men in that engagement; shot with both bullets and arrows. The Indians finally left the battle ground, carrying of their dead and the battle ground, carrying off their dead and I sent my colored man out for some stray stock; the Indians cut him off from the ranch, captured him, cut off his feet and one of his hands, skinned the muscles off his limbs, skinned the whole top of his head- taking every hair, ripped him open from end to end, and left him. He crawled several rods in that condition, until he reached an eleva- tion in sight of the ranch, and expired.
During the same fall, and a short time pre- vious, the Indians killed and scalped a white man of mine, near where now stands the Great Bend stock yards.
Another engagement was had in September, (I think), that same fall, only a short time pre- vious to the last one mentioned, just this side of Walnut Creek, and near where the railroad bridge now is, between the Indians and sol- diers of the Fort. The red devils captured the teams and killed some of the soldiers. Indian fights were frequent along the Santa Fe trail, that season, and many of good white man was put under the sod on that account.
Cholera extended from ranch to ranch, nearly crossing the plains, in 1867, and many died in consequence.
ANOTHER INCIDENT
W E are informed by Mr. T. J. Richardson, a settler near Rush Center, that in September, 1860, while returning
from a trip over the Rocky Mountains, he
stopped over night at "Peacock's Ranch," an abode concern then sitnated a short distance below the Walnut, about where Fort Zarah was built. There he learned of the massacre of
OF BARTON COUNTY, KANSAS
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Mr. Peacock and five others, part of them mem- bers of his family, by the Kiowa Indians, one or two weeks previous. One man escaped whose name he did not learn. Our informant did not know where Mr. Peacock was from,
and did not state how long he had lived at the ranch. The Indians carried off all the stock connected with the ranch, and committed sun- dry other depredations on emigrants.
OLD FORT ZARAH
F ORT ZARAH was established September 6, 1864, by Gen. Samuel R. Curtis, then in command of the military district, and named in honor of his son, Maj. H. Zarah Cur- tis, who was killed at the Baxter Springs mas- sacre while on the staff of Gen. Blunt, October 6th, 1863. It was completed in 1867, and spoken of as an outpost.
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