I tell you my head was a muddle & my guts like eels were swimming in them. Truly I did not care where we passed our day’s work for I would feel as poorly here as there.
“Tell Nevin so,” says I to him & he did. In return Nevin ordered the pair of us to make sure the horses were saddled & watered for we would be riding guard on the woodtrain & standing picket rather than cutting today.
“The best mounts,” says Nevin to us as we turned to the stables. “We will take 8 men on horseback & the rest of the boys will be a foot & will double as timbermen. With the civilians we will have 35 men all told.”
“8 of the best Sgt.,” says I though it hurt my head to say it.
Well that woodtrain did take some time for to get moving each morning & this morning of All Soul’s was no different for there was always some loose yoked oxen or objecting mules or a cracked wagon axle & since the train set off all together or not at all it was proper morning before we made for the trail a top of Sullivant Hill. This was the same hill where Red Cloud’s boys lit their fires by night to terrify us & there was fresh sign of them there as we climbed to the summit trail overlooking the Valley. There was sooty ashes in a ring & moccasin & hoof prints in the dirt & flattened down grass.
Nevin pulled his horse up beside me & together we did gaze over the Valley seeing from that hilltop what the Indians spied when they looked down upon us.
Says he, “The whole place looks awful small from here.”
I gave a shrug & said nothing. Truth be told my mouth was dry & I did not feel up to talking much. I felt I might spew up my coffee.
Says Nevin then, “Keep your eyes open today. Them red f_____ just wanted a looksee yesterday. They are still around & we need to be sharp to them.”
“Sharp as an Arkansaw toothpick,” says I & watched Nevin trot off to the fore of the woodtrain where he led the wagons from the front for he did be that sort of soldier.
I rode up beside one of the wagons on the West side of the trail & kept pace with it relaxing some while we rolled over the summit trail for I did not think Mr. Lo would harass us on high ground. I would be sharp I told myself when the time came to start down from the hilltop trail into the meadows that bordered the Pine forest but until then I would let the gentle stepping of my mount ease my head & stomach & just as I was thinking this the 1st arrow sang over my head. For a moment I did not know what it was I took it for a bird or a bug or some other whistling thing I do not know what when the 2nd one came & this dart landed with a whack behind the driver in the empty bed of the wagon I escorted. 2 more arrows sailed over me & some fellow cried Hostiles! & another shouted, “Where are they G__ D_____ it all?”
Well we did turn our horses & eyed the shallows to both sides of the trail which was atop the hills as I told you. After a moment of this the driver of the wagon I rode beside cried, “Down there!” pointing down the hill on the other side of the trail from me. A shot was fired & then another 2 or 3 more from behind me & I steered my mount to that side of the trail where she scuffed & danced til I could make her steady & take aim with my Springfield.
Before I could shoot I heard Nevin’s voice shouting for to hold fire that the Indians were on the run now. I could see them scarpering away down the hillside to the cover of the cottonwoods by a stream bank & crossing the stream. Some of them were mounted & some leading their mounts by the reins all of them giving hoots & hollers & Rebel Yells back at us but they did not appear to want a fight to which I gave thanks to God In Heaven for my head was thumping I tell you & the sound of musket fire would surely only make it worse. I felt that if some Brave did take my scalp that morning it would only make him sore to carry it & any savage who stopped to drink my blood would surely drop down dead so rank with poison was it.
“Stand down & keep moving,” says Nevin riding back along the train of wagons asking if everyone was all right. One driver took an arrow through the brim of his hat & he was laughing like a lunatic at this saying, “Look at my hat! Look at my G__ D___ hat boys!”
When it came time we rode vigilant & sharp descending from the hilltop trail & Mr. Lo made no appearance though my senses were sparking & small things such as a rabbit in the grass or a bolting herd of antelope in the distance served to fray my nerves further.
Tom came up to me. “Stay close by brother,” says he. “You do not look well at all.”
Well I did not feel well at all & it was nothing I had not done to myself before but I did feel a strong love for my elder brother then for he would look out for me I knew he would. And at this moment I felt sorry for thinking him a wrong headed fool for loving his girl & for being melancholy in drink about her & how she could not be freed from that b______ Kinney’s bondage.
My spirits did swing towards the gloomy then & the land & sky made like to match them. I watched the grass wash & flow like ocean waves to the wind in the vast meadow where we would corral the oxen & mules with the wagon boxes. The great grey clouds were like fists in the Heavens shifting in the sky above as if to beat into us the notion that our celebrations were finished & the dark 1/2 of the year was now upon us & of a sudden I had a feeling that we should not be here at all. None of us should be here I thought with our wagons & oxen & soldiers & timber men with their sawmill & fancy store bought repeating rifles. We are not welcome here I could not help but feeling & I could not take my eyes from the grass as it shifted & flowed in the wind that Valley grass seeming to whisper & hiss to me, “Go away Go away Go away” & I did thank God again that I had my brother with me.
“I will stay close to you brother,” says I. “And I am sorry about your girl.” I must of sounded a fool saying it but I did anyway.
“Thank you Michael,” said my brother.
“Stay sharp will you Tom?”
He gave me a nod & we entered into the Pinery crossing a waste of naked stumps to the rising wooded hill side the timber men were cutting that week. It was some weeks since I was in this lower stake of the Pinery & so much of it was cleared since my last visit that the sight of it now cast my mind back to battle grounds in the War with trees stumped & shredded by cannon shot or cut down to offer clean lines of fire to the infantry.
“Shall we take the ridge line Sgt.?” says Tom to Nevin.
“What is he asking Mick?” says Nevin to me.
“Will we picket the top of the hill or down here Sgt.?” says I.
Says Nevin, “You boys head on up & remember to keep watch over the back side of the hill. That aint cleared yet & it is easy for any f_____ to creep up in them trees. I will be up to spell you in 2 bells.” From his tunic he took out a watch on a chain. “Maybe by then you will be able to take some grub without throwing it up.”
We both did nod our heads & I smiled at him though it hurt my head. A finer soldier you would not meet in this life than our 1st Sgt. God Be With Him wherever he has gone.
So up the hill side we climbed Tom & myself & so steep was it betimes we did dismount & lead the horses round stumps & parties of men working saws & axes. The men worked to the low side of the trees so that when they fell they would slide some of the ways down the hill where they could be shorn of branches & chained to oxen to be drug away for planing in the mule powered mill. The very air of the Pinery was filled with the sound of men sawing & chopping & even laughing for somebody no doubt brung a bottle. I reckon the civilian timber men were many of them already 1/2 jugged which I did not reckon wise with towering pines crashing down around you but wise is not a word you would use to describe timber men at all.
All of it was the noise & racket of a normal days work & a body might get to thinking it was just like any stand of forest in America. My head was thumping like an apprentice drummer & as we passed the highest up group of cutters I asked Tom if we could halt our climb for a moment. “I may be sick Tom,” I recall saying to my brother & he gave me a small smile that all men fair love to give to them that are more hung over than they be themselves. I spat a few times & with the cool air working on me at last I felt we
ll enough to continue. I tell you all was normal as you can imagine Sir so that when from the top of the hill there came a terrible din a crashing of hooves & cracking of branches & terrible yipping & howling well it was a fierce shock to me. The Indians did rarely attack the Pinery but rather preferred to attack the wood train itself but now coming down the hill at us was a mob of them. It did not seem real to me it seemed like something out of a fever dream.
Tom & I sat as if frozen for a moment watching as the marauders barrelled in & out of the trees like dancers at a fair not one of them dismounting but passing tween the trees like fog or mist leaning aft on their queer saddles for balance as their ponies descended upon us. They were 50 yds. from us & coming strong down that hill.
Tom broke our spell. Says he, “Dismount Michael.” He said it calm as could be & it was like he shook me awake. My heart begun thumping in earnest fear now but I followed Tom & we swung down from our saddles & stood down hill with our horses as cover holding the reins & aiming & letting fire with our muskets over the horses’ backs. Two arrows struck Tom’s mount in his flank & shoulder & he did whinny but stood his ground as if knowing he was there for to cover Tom & myself. My horse she was not as staunch after her wounding some weeks before & she spooked at the onslaught as I fired & I did not hit a thing other than trees but Tom caught one of them Braves square in the bread basket knocking him back off his mount to come crashing & bouncing down the hill to smash up agin a tree beside us his back broken along with the ball inside him. Though I am shamed to say it I thought to myself that this dead Brave had a fine head of long black hair & I should like to return & scalp it when the shooting was done. Even a fool can speak the truth if he is let.
But I did only think it for a second for the Indians kept coming a bloody howling terror some 20 odd of them though they did not stop for Tom or myself which surprised me. I did not reload but turned my Springfield round & held it by the barrel swinging & missing as one Indian passed but he could not shoot now neither as he was too far back in his saddle for balance down the hill so we were both unwounded that Brave & myself.
I saw then what they were up to & Tom & myself did not feature in it for they sought to split the wood cutters & their guard into 2 parties to have at the one 1st & then chase down the other if it did not stay & fight. They did also want to cut out the route to the block house where we could gather & defend ourselves.
I let drop my rifle & drew my Colt to fire down at them & my horse did again spook & jerk the reins this time from my grasp. That sonofabitch horse then fled leaving me to share Tom’s mount for cover which I did not need as the raiders kept pace on down the hill into the cutters where they engaged in battle tomahawk agin tree axe. Some of the gunless men took off running down the hill with some of the Indians in pursuit. I did watch one cutter holding his end of a 2 man saw & just staring up at the Indians like he did not believe they existed at all let alone be coming down upon him. His mouth was agog & well the last thing he ever looked upon in this World was the fall of a club & I did flinch for that poor man’s head burst open under that warclub like an egg hit with a spoon. I will never forget that sight I tell you.
After that I could hardly make out anything for the hill side did go off like a banging cannon & gun smoke from the timber men & from the soldiers & the Indians did bloat the air. There was terrible screaming from the cutters & soldiers & howling from the Indians & before we knew it fire from the timber men & the soldiers came a flying up at Tom & myself splintering the pine trunks about us & we did be forced take cover from our own side instead of rushing down the hill to aid them.
And just like that before we could get a grip of the fight & before Tom & myself could join it in truth it was over for the Indians skitted their ponies across the pine stumped waste & out into the meadow where they cut down one man on picket & chased another & ran the mules & oxen off in the direction of the Big Horns.
“The mules! The mules!” some fellow was shouting & I mounted the back of Tom’s horse & held tight as Tom spurred that horse down the hill to the bottom. There we came up on Capt. Brown who I did not know to be with us. He must of rode up after the train with a section of the new Cavalry boys arrived at the Ft. under Capt. Fetterman.
There was my horse bucking about with the eyes rolling round her head with her reins held in a Cavalry man’s hand & I jumped down from Tom’s mount to take the reins from him. I gave the beast a good pelt in the jaw with my fist for desertion & mounted that high blooded horse. She was not a bad horse but not the best either.
Brown was in high spirits with the horse Tom broke for him dancing & tugging at his reins. “After them men! After them!” cries Brown. “I want every G___ D____ mule back & scalps for every one of our dead.”
This did give me cause to wonder how many dead he meant & later heard it was only 5 but 1 of them was worth 100 men. I will come to who in a minute.
Well we did hare out after our mad quartermaster across the stretch of stumps & into the meadow grass after the Indians. They had maybe a 2 minute start ahead of us but their flight was hindered by the mules & oxen & I thought we would catch them up if they did not shed their booty of livestock. I tell you Sir that chase was a lively one 10 or 15 of us full belting across the meadows of grass with white foam ruffing our horses’ mouths firing our Colts as we rode wild down on them raiders. They were 10 or so it looked with some of them turning their ponies to the hills in hope that we might follow but no we stayed together in pursuit of the main body driving the stolen mules but before we could ride them down they began firing arrows & 1 or 2 bullets into some of the mules before making for the shelter of the mountains knowing our mounts were spent & that their ponies could run beyond death itself. They had our number & I suspect they were laughing as they rode away in victory up into the foothills of the Big Horns.
At last I fired a final shot after them though I know it did no harm for they were too far away to hit with a pistol bullet by then & I pulled up my horse for he was 1/2 dead with the running long lines of spittle hanging down from the bit in his mouth & heat rising up through his saddle like a stove burning wood. “There there now,” says I forgiving her for her panic on the hill side because she ran well in pursuit as if to make up for deserting me before. The other Bills & Dragoons did also pull up now all of us fearing that if Mr. Lo decided to turn back on us there was nothing left in our horses to run or fight but only for to drag them down & use them as cover.
Brown was in a rage shouting, “The b______ those f_____ red b______!” but he was smiling behind it for the Mad Capt. is not like regular men at all & does not care too much how many white men get mustered out by the Indians only for it gave him excuse to chase them. But that day even he was not smiling for long.
It took us almost 1 hour to walk our horses back to the Cut with stopping off at the Little Piney to water them & when we got back well we came upon something that will never leave my eyes no matter how long I live & nor will it ever leave my heart. It is fierce hard to recount on the page but I will because it might show you how things to happen later perhaps were forged by it so. I will brace myself & just write it here without pause or reflection.
On our return we found Sgt. Nevin laid out in the bed of a wagon box with a white haired timber man & a Bill from another Company tending him cleaning & bandaging him with torn shirts best they could while the driver & others gathered what mules they could to put them in harness.
In tatters was our dear 1st Sgt. & I felt like spewing my guts up at the very sight of him. The broken shafts of many arrows at least 8 of them pierced his body which was stripped of his clothes. He lay there naked as the day he came into the world & his head was soaked red with blood the whole of it like he was dipped in crimson paint & under this blood his skull shone through to the bone where the savage b_______ lifted his scalp with their skinning knives & our dear Sgt. Nevin still living while they done it. This they did before filling him full of arrows like a lady’s pin cushion.
&nbs
p; And through all of this Sgt. Nevin must of suffered terribly for there in the wagon bed he was yet alive if you can imagine. You may think it a miracle Sir that breath was still in him after all that but if you could see his lower parts & what them f_____ savages done to them well you might think poor Nevin better off dead surely. For they did rend his balls off altogether & the Sgt.’s legs were red washed with blood & gummed in dirt & pine needles from how he crawled some 100s of yds. through the forest where he was ambushed to make it back to the lower blockhouse where our men found him. His prick was barely hanging 1/2 on him & 1/2 off him like the b_______ did not care to finish the job they started or were disturbed in the work of it. It was terrible Sir. Even in the War I never saw such a thing.
Another of our men Linders a quiet gentle Swede was found dead too with his throat cut & with no scalp but his trousers on him in the same spot where we reckoned Nevin had his horrors for there was blood on the ground & even on the pine trees & in the branches. One of Nevin’s boots was found too but his & Linders’ horses were gone no doubt stolen away by the savages God’s Curse Upon Them. I tell you when I think of it I would kill every 1 of them in this whole black country women & children all. I am not the only one to think this as you will see.
Well Tom did turn his mount away from the sight of Nevin steering him this way & that among the stumps like he was searching for something he might strike down or kill & some other of the men were the same while many of the boys from our C Company had tears cutting ditches down their faces their very eyes gleaming with them. And tears came to my eyes too for our 1st Sgt. his chest rising & falling with the labour of taking breath & the broken arrow shafts rising & falling too with blood leaking from their wounds with each breath.
Wolves of Eden Page 31