Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 540 pages of information about Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains.

Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 540 pages of information about Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains.

I said:  “General, I have tried hard to quit that business.  In the first start I went at it for the glory in it, but having failed to find that part of it, I have become tired.  I will not answer you now, but to-morrow morning at nine o’clock I will come to your quarters, at which time I will have my mind thoroughly made up.”  I left his quarters and went over to Col.  Miller’s.  I told the Colonel that the General had sent for me.  He urged me in the strongest terms to take hold of it, saying that there was not a practical scout in the entire command.  Finally I promised him that I would again enter the scouting field.

The next morning I was up early and had breakfast with Col.  Miller.  After obtaining the pass-word I saddled Black Bess, and at nine o’clock was at Gen. Wheaton’s quarters.

I left Black Bess standing about twenty paces from the General’s tent, took one of my gloves and stuck it on a bush, and went in to see Gen. Wheaton.  I told him that I had decided to start in scouting for him, and I suppose I was in his tent about half an hour talking matters over about the scouting business.  All being understood, I started out to get my mare, and saw quite a crowd had gathered around her, and one man in particular was trying to make up with her.  Just as I stepped out of the door I heard him say, “This must surely be Black Bess.  I wonder who owns her now.”  And until he called the mare’s name I had not recognized him, and it struck me that it must be George Jones, but not being sure, I said:  “Is that you, George?” He said:  “Yes, and that’s my old friend Capt.  Drannan.”  This was a surprise to us both.  It was the first time that we had met since we separated at San Francisco in the fall of 1866, at which time we had both decided to quit fighting Indians, but here we both were again in the field.  After a good square shake and giving a hasty synopsis of our experiences during the time we had been separated, George asked if I was going into the scouting field again.  I told him that I had just accepted a position as chief of scouts with Gen. Wheaton.  I then asked him what he was doing for a livelihood.  He said that he had joined the Oregon Volunteers, and asked me if I did not think I could get him relieved.  “For,” said he, “I would rather work with you than any one else.  We have been together so much we understand each other.”

He told me his Captain’s name and that he belonged to Col.  Miller’s regiment.  I did not lose any time in seeing Col.  Miller and telling him that I would like very much to have him relieve George Jones from his command, as I must have him for my first assistant.

This was the first time that Col.  Miller had heard of George Jones being a scout, and he wrote out the release at once and went out and had Gen. Ross sign it and gave it to me.

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Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.