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.

The Lieutenant having told us where he would camp that night, it was the duty of the scouts to make a circuit of the camp before dark.  On arriving at the appointed place, George and I started to make a tour of the camp, leaving the other scouts at the camping place.  It was about sunset when we saw a band of Indians as we supposed about four miles from where we were to camp that night, and about one mile and a half from where we then were.  We put spurs to our horses and headed for the Indian camp, as we were desirous of ascertaining about their number and getting the location of the ground before it was too dark.  When we were within about a quarter of a mile, it being nearly dark, we were just in the act of tying our horses, intending to crawl up near their camp, we heard a rumbling noise back in the direction from which we had just come.  I crawled quickly around the hill and saw another band of Indians coming directly toward us, who were making their way as we supposed to where the other Indians were camped.  I got back to my horse in less time than it took me to crawl away from him, then we mounted and got away as we supposed, undiscovered, and rode up a ravine and in a direction that we would not be seen by the Indians.  Not thinking ourselves in any immediate danger, we did not hurry.  After riding up the ravine only a short distance, just as we rounded a curve, we were brought face to face with another band of Indians.  This was, I think, a small band that had left the main band to hunt for game and were just getting into camp, but we did not make any inquiries as to what success they had in hunting, nor did we ask whether they had been hunting at all.

The moment we saw them we drew our pistols and commenced firing, and they returned the fire.  We were almost entirely surrounded by Indians, and I saw that it was no place for me, so I sang out to George:  “Let’s breakthrough their ranks.”  “All right,” said he, and we drove the spurs into our horses with all vengeance, riding about fifteen feet apart and succeeding in getting through unhurt, and away we rode for quarters, closely followed by the redskins Now we thought we were safe, and each in his own mind was congratulating himself, when a ball struck me in the left hip which paralyzed my whole side and wrecked my whole nervous system.  I sang out to George to drop behind and whip my horse, for now I had no use whatever of my left leg, and it took all the strength in my right leg to hang on to the horse.  No quicker said than he was behind my horse and doing all in his power to urge him, and telling me for God’s sake to hang on a little longer.

The soldiers had just rode into camp and were dismounting when they heard our firing, and remounted and started in that direction, but as it was getting dark and the country strange to them they could not make vary good time.  They met us about half way between the camp and the Indians, the reds still in hot pursuit of us.  The Lieutenant ordered a charge, and he had his men so trained that when he said charge they did not stop shooting as long as there was an Indian to shoot at.

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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.