Sully Richardson stories

Sullivan Richardson stories

MORMON INDIAN RELATIONS

by Sullivan Calvin Richardson

10 AN EMIGRANT TRAIN CAPTAIN FACES MANY DANGERS

Captain John R. Young tells this about two incidents which happened on the trip across the plains.

For the first week we made only from five to ten miles a day, but at the end of two weeks, we could make twenty five. At Wood River centre, the Western line of civilization, and the last telegraph station, I received a dispatch from our immigration agent, Feramorz Little, telling me that the Sioux were on the war path, and that we must be watchful or they would run off our cattle. As a word of encouragement he added that Captain Preston would overtake me in a few days and would give me four mounted Utah men to aid me as scouts and night guard for my cattle.

Thus cheered, I pushed boldly out into the hunting grounds of the Sioux. But day after day passed and Captain Preston did not come. At last I reached Ash Hollow where there was a stockade and five Utah men guarding supplies left by the "down going" train. Leaving early the next morning, we made a drive of twenty five miles across the big bend of the Platte. In the evening a squad of U. S. troops camped on the opposite side of the river and helloed across to us to look out for "the devil was let loose," meaning that "Sitting Bull" was on the war path.

In the morning they were gone and when we brought up our cattle, one of our best oxen was missing. It belonged to a Swede who had only a light wagon and one yoke of oxen. Selecting a large cow from the heard, I yoked her in, and started the train in charge of the interpreter. I borrowed a large horse from Hans Andersen. I then circled the night herd ground and being a good trailer, I soon found the track of the ox going back. I caught him at Ash Hollow, twenty five miles from camp. Giving my horse a feed of grain, and taking lunch with the men, I started with the ox to overtake: my train.

The long, weary day went by, the sun was near setting, and I had just passed the night campground I had left in the morning when a small cloud of dust coming from the foothills attracted my attention. Just as I was entering a gorge I drove the ox into the wash, then turned back up the hill until I could see the dust again. With the aid of my telescope I made out four Indians rapidly driving a herd of horses toward a patch of timber on the river. A careful inspection convinced me that the loose animals were American horses, and I soon recognized them as Captain Preston's. It now flashed through my mind why he had not overtaken us; the Indians had stolen his horses and crippled his movements.

There I was, twenty miles from camp, alone with no weapons but my revolver, and almost face to face with the robbers who had stolen my friend's horses. I stood and watched until they reached the timber. They selected a large tree for a camping place and threw down their tarps. Three of them bunched the horses, while the fourth caught and hobbled them. Then they cut poles and started down the river, evidently to catch fish for their supper. I saw that the arroyo that I was in emptied into the river near their camp and knowing that the moon would not rise until a few minutes after dark, I instantly formed a plan and went to work to put it into execution. I was averse to shedding blood, having always been taught to avoid it except in self defense. I resolved, however, to recapture the horses, and then, if followed, I would fight. Leaving the ox, I moved cautiously down the ravine and reached the mouth of it just as the gloom of night settled over the plain.

The Indians had returned and built a large fire. One of them walked out and bunched the horses and their movements attracted the attention of my horse. She threw up her head and started to neigh, but I gave the bit a jerk in time to check her. The movement, slight as it was, showed me how dangerous was the work I had undertaken.

The Indians soon returned to camp and threw some more wood on the fire, which in the still night flamed high in the air, rendering objects visible for some distance around, and greatly assisted my movements. I felt that now was the time to act. Approaching carefully the outer circle of horses and dropping my bridle reins, I moved quietly from horse to horse, cutting their hobbles, then regaining my own horse, moved the band slowly until they found they were unfettered, when I leaped into my saddle land started then on a run. The wild yell that rang out on the night air curdled my blood, and made my hair stand on end. For a moment I was quite unnerved, but soon recovered and lashed the horses at a wild rate across the plain. By the time I reached the ox the moon had risen and it seemed as light as day. I drove the horses and the ox across the gully and then wheeled back and stood in the darkness at the bottom of it, waiting for my pursuers.

Soon the pattering of feet reached my ears and holding my breath until two dark forms came into view, I opened fire. The quick somersault and rapid retreat convinced me, that Mr. Indian had been twice surprised by the white man. Emptying my revolver to give the idea that there were several of us, I sent the stock hurrying toward my camp. The road was straight and free from hill and hollow, so I was not much afraid of being ambushed.

As several hours passed without interruption, I concluded that my shots had taken effect, at least so far as to discourage the Indians from following me. But I was suddenly aroused from this feeling of security by another danger I had not counted on. It was the low, distant howl of a wolf. Soon an answer came, then another, and another. I smiled for I had a contempt for the whole tribe, believing them to be cunning and cruel, but cowardly. I turned the cylinder of my pistol to see if it was properly reloaded and finding it all right, calmly awaited the gathering of the howling pack.

With lolling tongues and fiery eyes they came galloping up, falling into small groups, snapping, snarling, and fighting. I hesitated to shoot for fear the smell of blood would whet their ferocious appetites. My hesitation ceased, however, as a large gray wolf trotted up to my side and crouched to spring at me. Instinctively I put a bullet through his shoulder, and he fell backward with a yell. In an instant a score of hungry brutes sprang onto him and tore him to pieces. At the same moment a fresh pack came sweeping across the road in front, enclosing us in a circle. The frightened horses recoiled back upon me, and I bolted from the herd and ran wildly across the plain. Instantly every wolf joined in pursuit. For a moment there was a rushing sound, which gradually died out in the distance and then I was left alone with my trembling ponies and my heart wildly beating.

At 4 A. M. I reached the camp in safety. The dames had put the children to bed, but the men and women were sitting around a fire in the center of a corral formed by the wagons. When I rode up they greeted me with four hurrahs and strong hands lifted me from my saddle and bore me triumphantly to the watch fire, where they had been watching and praying all night, that I might return in safety. When the joy had somewhat subsided, I said, "Boys, that ox has traveled one hundred miles, and I have ridden seventy five. These horses are Captain Preston's. I took them from the Indians who had stolen them. Now, double the guards around the camp and cattle, put out your fire, and let me sleep until sunrise. "

The first day after my adventure passed pleasantly. We made a good drive and camped on a small clear stream and the usual horseshoe corral was formed. At dusk the horses were placed on the inside, and guards placed at the ends of the corral.

In the morning it was reported that the horses had been restless. I circled camp, and near the mouth of the creek, I found where two Indians had jumped across. I knew that mischief was intended. That night I was cautious in selecting a camp ground and careful in forming the corral, being sure that no gaps were left. Before our company left Omaha two American families joined us. They were rough Nebraskan farmers, and one of the men, named Jerry, was a great service to me. He was good natured, strong and fearless. A younger brother of mine was also with me. He, too, was quite reliable. I told the people that I feared the Indians were following us and that they would try to stampede our stock, which I dreaded above all things.

I had seen the effects of stampedes in my first trip across the plains. A tornado is but little more to be dreaded than the rush of a large herd of crazy, frightened cattle. I had seen wagons smashed to stove wood and strong men trampled to death. I, therefore, requested Jerry and my brother to spread their blankets near me, and I kept my best horse saddled ready for any emergency.

And the emergency came about three o'clock in the morning. A wild yell like an Indian war whoop came out in the air, followed by a rush of cattle. In an instant all was confusion. Women and children tumbled pell mell out of the wagons in their night clothes, screaming and fainting. The men, guns in hand, formed hands and rushing in front of the cattle, fought desperately to keep them from bolting and caused the crazy beasts to run in a circle. Every round brought them nearer the wagons, and I knew if they struck them that we were ruined.

Grasping my two trusted men, I urged them to mount their horses and throw themselves between the cattle and the wagons and force the cattle, if possible, to bolt from us. I seconded their efforts by mounting my horse and, getting my interpreter, hurried to the men who were fighting the cattle, and led them to where I could hear Jerry and my brother's voices vainly trying at each returning surge of the dark mass to force the cattle farther from the wagons.

Massing my men at the most exposed angle of the corral, I ordered them on the return of the cattle to fire volley into the air. The sheet of 'flame from the guns seemed for a moment to paralyze the stock, and then with a rush that shook the ground beneath our feet, away they thundered toward the foot hills on the north. I lay flat on my horse and, crowding him into the jam, was swept along with the herd for about three miles, until I was satisfied no Indians were following. Then I straightened up and commenced talking to them. This had the effect of quieting them. They slowed up, began lowing, as if calling to each other, and finally stopped. I was soon joined by my brother, but Jerry's horse, being slow, was soon distanced and lost, and he did not find us. Nor did he reach camp until the next day.

As soon as it was light, we moved the cattle back to camp, but they were nervous, and great care had to be taken in yoking them up. About nine o'clock we broke camp. I put my brother's team in the lead, and told him to drive briskly, as I wanted to keep the wagons some distance apart. I strung out the teams and instructed the drivers to not close up. I purposed to drive fast until we should reach Goose Creek, fifteen miles away, and then camp.

All went as I desired until we reached the summit of the last ridge. From there we had a mile of down hill grade to the creek. I glanced back and could see the line of white covered wagons following each other like birds of passage, moving in orderly columns to a warmer clime. A feeling of joy 'tilled my bosom, for I felt that the labors of the day would end in peace. I spurred my horse and galloped rapidly to the front, to select the best spot on which to form my camp.

Crossing the creek and ascending the bench a few rods to the west, I turned and looked back just in time to see two Indians ride from the head of a hollow on our left. As they rushed past the rear of the train, they gave their wild, bloodcurdling war whoop. As quick as lightning, an alarm seemed to flash from one end of the train to the other, and every team rushed wildly down the hill.

My pen is too weak to describe the heart rending scene that followed the fearful rushing of the wild, stampeded cattle. Wagons were jolted against wagons with such force that the inmates were thrown out, to be run over and trampled underfoot by other teams following in their rear. On they came, tearing blindly in any direction that their crazy fear led them.

Wagons were embedded in the mire of the creek and the tongues jerked out. At last they began to scatter and then stopped. Children ran instinctively to their parents for protection. In groups they wandered from their teams, avoiding them as though they had become beasts of terror to them. I rode to my brother and directed him to the selected camping place.

He unhitched his team and driving the oxen some distance away, unyoked the right ox and turned its head toward the off one's tail, then yoked in again. In this shape, as long as yoke and bows held, there was no danger of stampeding.

The people took new hope. I rode from wagon to wagon directing their movements and checking noise and confusion. By sundown the camp was formed, the cattle secured, the guards placed and fires lighted. Then I turned my attention to the wounded ones. I had but little knowledge of surgery, but all eyes were turned to me. With a prayer for God's blessings to attend my efforts, I sewed up gaping flesh wounds. Providentially no bones were broken, but there were two women and one man who needed no help of mine. Loving' hands smoothed the tangled hair and closed the eyes of the dead, and loving lips kissed the pale brows, then white sheets were spread over them and they were left to rest. .The next day, on the hillside, we dug their graves and, of the old family chests, coffins were made. Then a venerable man, in workman's garb, spoke words of comfort to the company, and they were laid to rest.