by F. M. Worden
Sam slit the skin four ways and peeled it back. Next he cut the leg where the break was, the leg came right off. He laid the leg on the tail gate, cut the meat back to where the break was clean, almost to the knee. He called for the pick and pushed the red-hot end against the meat. A sickening smell of burning flesh filled the wagon. Next he tied an artery and blood vessels with thread. Pulled the skin down, trimmed it to cover the flesh and sewed with needle and thread. Poured the whisky over it and made a pad, he pushed it against the cut. He asked the wife to bandage the leg.
He got down, went to the fire and asked the young girl if they had some coffee.
“We don’t drink coffee,” she said.
Sam went back got the whiskey and took a big swig. Told the girl, “I don’t drink whiskey. It don’t like me. I don’t like it.”
He got his pot and coffee, took water from a barrel on the wagon, made a full pot. While it cooked, he got his bed roll, unrolled it by the fire. Drank his coffee and lay down and went to sleep.
The sun woke him from a deep sleep. He heard children playing. Opening his eyes, the two women were standing above him. They both said, “Good morning, we made your coffee and breakfast.”
Sam asked, “How’s your man?”
“He woke early this morning, cried out and went back to sleep.”
Sam ate a breakfast of bacon, eggs and cold corn bread. “Where the eggs come from?” Sam asked.
“We have chickens in a cage on the other side of the wagon.”
This was the first time Sam got a good look at these women. He asked, “How old are you women?”
The wife replied, “I’ll be seventeen in December. My sister is fourteen. My baby is one year, the other two are orphan children we picked up in Iowa. Don’t know how old they are, maybe six and eight.”
Sam told them, “We gotta get moving.” He told the women to get loaded. He went and got the oxen. They were grazing fifty yards away. He yoked them, saddled his horses and tied them to the back of the wagon. He carried his rifle, pistol and became a bull whacker. The children and the women walked beside the wagon. Only the baby and husband rode. Sam turned the wagon north toward the Platte River and Fort Kearney.
At noon they stopped to eat something. Sam unyoked the oxen and unsaddled his horses and put the saddle and packsaddle in the front wagon box. He kept his rifle and shot guns handily. He asked the women their names.
The wife told him, “Our name is the Wards. My husband is Jess Ward. Mine is April. My sister is June, my baby Easter, the children, Andy and Mary Jo. What is yours?”
“Sam, Sam Duncan,” he replied. He then asked why they were going west. April said the people in Illinois don’t like Mormons. “They forced us to leave. We’re going to Salt Lake City.”
Sam asked more questions. “What did your man do? You know what kind of work?”
April told him. “Jess worked in his Pa’s hardware store. His Pa sold out. His folks wanted to get going west. Jess and I stayed to help the new people get started. Jess has three younger brothers. They went with the folks. Jess being the oldest was asked to stay. His Pa gave us some money to buy this outfit. We got this wagon and oxen in St Joe and outfitted it there.”
Sam asked if there was a rifle in the wagon. April said there was. He asked her to get it. She went and brought an old double barrel cap lock shot gun. He checked it out. It wasn’t loaded. She went back and got a bag that went with the gun. Sam showed her how to load it.
She said, “I’m a town girl, I don’t know a thing about guns and neither does Jess.”
“Look,” Sam said, “It’s not hard to shoot a shot gun, just point and pull the trigger. The gun is safe until the hammers are pulled back.” He showed her how. “See the caps I put on the nipples.”
She started laughing. “Nipples?” she said.
“Not the kind your baby uses, these caps are what makes the gun shoot, you under stand?”
“I’m afraid of guns.” She cringed all over as she spoke.
“You gotta get over that, you’ll have to use a gun sooner or later, what if Indians come? You’ll have to help me fight-em off.” He told her to be sure to set the hammers and not to pull both triggers at once.
A groan came from the wagon. April hurried to see Jess.
She came back said, “He must be awake, his eyes are open, but he’s not saying anything.”
Sam told her to try to spoon feed him some water. “I saw some wild chickens, I’ll try to shoot some.” He walked out a hundred yards and circled the wagon. Sure enough two hens flew up, he got them both with the shot gun and returned to the wagon.
“April you can dress these hens on the move. The children can ride my horses.”
Sam put both Andy and Mary Jo on his horses, told them to hang onto the horse’s mane. “Try not to fall,” Sam told them. Both seemed pleased to be riding a horse. June got in the wagon to help April. Sam yoked the oxen, with the horses tied to the wagon they moved on.
They had gone several miles when Sam spotted three mounted Indians to their front. He stopped the team. Told everyone to hide in the wagon. “I’ll see what they want. Stay hid, I don’t want them to see you, none of you, do you understand me?” Sam had anger in his voice. April said they would.
Sam walked out to meet the riders with his rifle in the crook of his left arm.
As the braves approached within ten yards, Sam raised his hand in friendly manner and spoke to them in Choctaw. They didn’t understand. Then he tried sign language. They talked back. Soon the riders gave the wagon a wide berth and rode onto the south. He watched until they were out of sight.
Back at the wagon, April asked what happened. Sam told her the Indians said the river was a sun away.
“Why did they leave?”
“I told them we had white mans sickness in the wagon. The other wagons made us leave, I don’t think they will bother us.” They moved on.
It was well before sunset when they came upon a large clump of trees. “We camp here tonight,” Sam told them.
The children gathered wood and chips for a fire. A good meal of prairie chicken was prepared. Sam told April to make chicken soup for Jess and spoon feed him.
“He’s awake but not saying a word,” April said.
“At least he’s alive. Looks like we’ll have a storm tonight, there’s lightning in the south, we better get prepared.” He made a leanto of canvas between two trees. Before turning in he tied the animals to big stout trees. The people slept in the wagon.
Around midnight the storm hit, lightning danced across the prairie, thunder rolled over head, heavy black clouds and strong winds accompanied the storm.
The animals pulled at their leads trying to get away, the rains came, the animals turned their rears to the rain. It was a heavy down pour for more than an hour, it stopped as soon as it came.
Sam had a fitful sleep. When he did sleep, he dreamed of Sarah’s café and the fine meals she used to have for him. He was awake most of the night off and on.
At day light he opened his eyes. He saw the women had a fire going and the smell of bacon frying was in the air. Sam felt as hungry as he had ever been. Coffee, bacon, eggs and corn bread stopped the hunger. He was in a hurry to move as he saw many birds in the trees. “We must be close to the river,” he told the women. They loaded and pushed on.
On a rise, just before noon they could see the Platte River some distance before them. Everyone was jumping for joy, to see this beautiful sight. Sam said “Let’s push on and camp by the river.”
In a few hours the animals were drinking in the Platte River. Camp was made and a meal was prepared.
“How’s your man?” Sam asked.
“He’s awake and moving a little, still not talking.”
Sam told her to keep pushing the chicken soup down him. “Let’s stay here and rest for a few days.” They all agreed.
Next day Sam saddled his horse, rode west looking for a ford to cross the river. In just a mile he found one, crossed
and saw there had been many wagons moving along the trail to the west. He hurried back to tell the women what he had found.
They rested another day. Then loaded and forded the river and turned west. Two days travel put them in sight of Fort Kearney. Jess was awake and talking. April was so happy. She could hardly contain herself.
Sam talked to Jess and Jess asked for everyone to pray and thank God for their survival. April told him, “Thank Sam, too, he brought us thru.”
Next day they were in Fort Kearney and found the Ward family. Much joy and happiness were displayed in the family. Jess was unhappy about having only one leg. Sam told him he was a lucky man to have such a wife and he would be just fine if he tried, many men live a good life with a missing leg.
Next day Sam bid the Wards goodbye, saddled and rode west toward Fort Laramie.
Sam rode the wagon trail, watching for Indian signs. He could see the wagons traveled spread four breasts across the trail. Late that day he found tracks where many unshod horses crossed the trail and moved to the north. He followed them for over a mile, fresh, maybe this morning or late last night, he thought. He turned west again, stayed off the high ground. Camped in a ravine, slept a fitful sleep. He dreamed of many Indians killing many people. He sat up startled. A coyote was howling on the ridge above him. No more sleep, by sunrise, he was on the move again.
As he rode, he watched the ridges to the north, no stopping, he kept moving. At noon hunger gnawed at his stomach. He had to keep moving. Then he saw Indians on a ridge to the northwest. He ducked into a ravine and turned south toward the wagon trail. Reaching it, he rode west. Dust filled the sky to his front. He surmised it must be a wagon train, circling for the night.
For some reason he turned and looked to the back trail. There three Indian horsemen, not more than three hundred yards away, saw him at the same time. They yelled their war hoops and came running their horses toward him, lances at the ready.
He knew he couldn’t outrun them, not with the pack mare. He turned her loose. Turned his mount sideways on the trail and dismounted, laid his pistol-rifle across the saddle to help steady his aim. As the warriors came closer, he fired at the lead rider. The bullet hit him square in the chest. He tumbled from his mount. Another bullet found its mark too. A second warrior slumped to the ground and fell in a heap. The last painted brave was charging with his lance. At twenty paces, he too took a bullet in the chest. A surprised look filled his face, big eyed and gushing blood from his wound, he too fell to the ground. Sam could see this brave was just a teenager. His painted face made him look older.
As he looked on this young boy, he got deathly sick. He had never killed a human before. The Indian ponies had stopped by his pack mare. It was easy to gather them up and tie them head to tail with the rawhide reins in their mouths. He rode on toward the wagon train.
This was the train that had circled for the night. Men were busy driving their animals into the middle of the circled wagons. As Sam rode in, the wagon boss came to see him. Asked him what the shooting was about. Sam told him, “You got Indian trouble, there’s a bunch coming this way, you better get ready. I have three Indian ponies you can have.” He gave the reins of the horses to the wagon boss.
The people became much excited and began preparing to fight. The wagon boss asked if Sam had seen three wagons coming this way. Sam said he hadn’t, but he had seen Indians on the ridges to the north and the ones he shot were painted for war.
Just as they talked, three wagons came in to sight. Everyone started yelling and cheering. These were their relatives and friends. No sooner had the wagons appeared so did the Indians. With war hoops they swooped down on the wagons. The men never had a chance. They were either lanced or tomahawked when they tried to keep moving their teams of oxen toward the wagon train. The women and children came running and screaming toward the train, they were lanced, tomahawked and savagely killed by the riders.
Some men of the circled train fired at the riders, but they were out of range, their bullets only kicking up dirt in front of the warriors. Sam saw two young girls run south toward the river, an Indian horseman scooped one up, she fought like a wild cat, he had to drop her to the ground. The rider stopped, with a mighty stroke he drove a lance into her body as she lay screaming on the ground. The other girl was fighting her captivity as hard as the first one.
Sam mounted his horse and with a pistol in hand rode as fast as he could after the Indian warrior with the girl. The brave saw him coming, he threw the girl to the ground and drove a lance into her stomach. By then Sam was on top of the brave, he fired three shots at point blank range into his head, the Warrior tumbled from his horse. Sam reined his mount back to the girl, dismounted and pulled the lance from her body, he picked her up and held her in his arms. Her young beautiful face was pouring blood from mouth and nose. She mumbled the word, “Momma.” She died in his arms, Sam wept unashamed. Men from the train came and pried the girl from his arms.
All the dead were loaded in the wagons and taken to the train. That afternoon, four men, three mothers, two young girls and five children were buried in a mass grave down by the river. Much crying, sobbing and praying went on for hours. Then the people sang religious songs for another hour. An elder told the people that God works in strange and mysterious ways, they should go on as God and Brigham Young had planned for them.
The women prepared meals, an older man brought Sam a plate and sat and talked to him. He could see Sam was in bad shape, he asked if Sam was a religious man. “No, I’m not,” Sam told him with no hesitation.
The man asked if he knew these people were Mormons. “Yes,” Sam answered.
“Do you know about us?”
Sam told him he didn’t know too much.
“Let me tell you about us Mormons. Our leader was Joseph Smith. He founded our church in 1830 in the state of Illinois. We are the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We’ve been shoved and pushed in every way possible known to man. Brigham Young is now our leader and has founded Salt Lake City in Utah territory for us. The Government said they would let us alone if we sent our young men to fight the Mexicans in California, most of our young men have been lost in the fighting. We’re asking all men of Christian faith to join us in Utah and come join our Church.”
Sam was impressed with this man and his people. The man asked if Sam would like to join them in Utah. “We would be pleased to have you.”
Sam thanked him, said he was leaving in the morning for Fort Laramie. The man said no more.
Sam made his camp for the night down by the river. He wanted to be alone. He made a small fire and made coffee and his supper. He thought back to April and Jess and hoped they were having a safe passage.
He had just unrolled his bed, when two young girls from the train came into the fire light. “Can we talk to you?” they asked.
“Sure, set and talk, I need company about now.”
The girls talked for some time, telling him of their lives in the east and the church they belonged to. The older one who was near Sam’s age asked him to come to Salt Lake City with them. “We need young men to marry, would you like to marry us?” she asked.
“Oh - no, I’m not ready to marry anyone yet, I sure don’t want to be a farmer.”
“You don’t have to be a farmer, there’s lots of things you can do in Utah.”
“Not me, I’m leaving in the morning, I thank you both for your offer, now you girls scoot back to the train, I need to get some sleep.” He tried to be as easy as he could with these fine girls.
The older girl asked if she could hug him. He said, “Yes.” The other wanted to also. She did and they both returned to the train.
Sam had a fitful sleep. He dreamed of the young girl that died in his arms. Dreamed of another massacre, he tried to stop it but couldn’t. He sat up stunned, it all seemed so real to him. It was almost morning as the light in the east was breaking thru a cloud filled sky. He got up, made a fire and fixed breakfast, saddled and packed his horses
ready to leave.
The elder came and stopped him. Told him some soldiers on horse back had come into camp and wanted to talk with him. He tied the horses and walked with the elder to see the soldiers.
A Lieutenant, who looked to be in his thirties was the commander of the troopers. He asked Sam if he was the one who had killed the warriors back on the trail. “Those Indians were from the Cheyenne tribe, they where Cheyenne Dog Soldiers, they have sworn to stop all immigrants on the trail. We’re from Fort Kearny, we’ve been sent to put them back into their territory.”
Sam shook his head as he told him, “You’re just a little too damn late.”
The Lieutenant took objections to Sam’s words.“We do the best we can, we been after this bunch for days, this country is so big we can’t be every where, you people have to protect yourselves. We’re here just to slow the Indians down. Which way did the warriors go?”
“After the massacre they headed north. Their trail should be easy to follow.”
“We’ll find them and take revenge for these killings. Will you come with us?” the Lieutenant asked.
“No Lieutenant, I’m on the way to Fort Laramie.”
The Lieutenant mounted his horse and bid them all good luck, good by and with a command turned his mount and the troop north.
“They make enough noise, they’ll be heard miles away,” Sam remarked. “They couldn’t catch a cold in those hills, the Indians can hear them coming and never be seen.”
Sam told the Elder goodbye and mounted his horse and headed on the trail west.
That night he camped by the Platte River. The grass was plentiful and his horses never raised their heads as they grazed the night away.
The next day he encountered unshod horses’ hoofs by the hundreds. The sign was every where. It puzzled him. He surmised there must be some big doings going on or the Indians are attacking the fort in force.
As he approached the Fort, hundreds of tepees were pitched on the east, south and west sides of the Fort. The trail went right thru the tepees, horses were eating grass everywhere, Indian children played games on both sides of the trail. There were dogs by the hundreds, some came nipping at his horses heels, several got kicked by the pack mare. Sam laughed and thought it was funny, as the hounds went yelping away.