In the meanwhile the day fixed for the departure of the Arapahoes came and the village was all commotion and activity, lodges being taken down and packed on ponies and mules; the activity, I might mention, being confined, however, to the squaws, the noble lords of the forest sitting unconcernedly by, quietly smoking their long red clay pipes. I was sorry to lose the services of Yellow Bear, but it was necessary for him to accompany his people, particularly as he represented the peace element. I gave him a letter to General Sheridan, in which I informed the latter of our meeting with the Arapahoes, the council and the final agreement. In view of the farther extension of our journey I requested a second detachment to be sent on our trail, with supplies, to meet us on our return. Everything being in readiness, the chiefs, commencing with Little Raven, gathered around me and bade me good-by, Yellow Bear being the last to take his leave. This being ended, the entire village was put in motion and soon stretched itself into a long, irregular column.
The chiefs formed the advance; next came the squaws and children and the old men, followed by the pack animals bearing the lodges and household goods; after these came the herd, consisting of hundreds of loose ponies and mules, driven by squaws; while on the outskirts of the entire cavalcade rode the young men and boys, performing the part of assistants to the herders, but more important as flankers or videttes in case of danger or attack. Nor must I omit another important element in estimating the population of an Indian village, the dogs. These were without number and of all colors and sizes. It was difficult to determine which outnumbered the other, the dogs, or their owners. Some of the former were mere puppies, unable to travel; these were carefully stowed away in a comfortable sort of basket, made of willows and securely attached to the back of one of the pack animals, the mother of the interesting family trotting along contentedly by the side of the latter.
After the excitement attending the departure of the Indians had passed and the last glimpse of the departing village had been had, our little party seemed lonely enough as we stood huddled together on the bank of Mulberry Creek. There was nothing to be done until the arrival of our expected supplies. Little Robe, impatient at the proposed delay, concluded to start at once in quest of his people, and if possible persuade them to meet us instead of awaiting out arrival. He evidently was anxious to have peace concluded with the Cheyennes, and thus enable his people to be placed on the same secure footing with the Arapahoes. Instead of opposing, I encouraged him in the execution of his plan, although loath to part with him. The two young Arapahoes were to remain with me, however, and by concert of plan between them and Little Robe we would be able to follow the trail.
It was agreed that if Little Robe should come up with his people and be able to induce them to return he was to send up smoke signals each morning and evening, in order that we might receive notice of their approach and be able to regulate our march accordingly. Giving him a sufficient supply of coffee, sugar, and hard bread, we saw Little Robe set out on his solitary journey in the character of a veritable peace commissioner.
I might fill several pages in describing the various expedients to which our little party resorted in order to dispose of our time while waiting the arrival of our supplies. How Romeo, by the promise of a small reward in case he was successful, was induced to attempt to ride a beautiful Indian pony which we had caught on the plains, and which was still as wild and unbroken as if he had never felt the hand of man. The ground selected was a broad border of deep sand, extending up and down the valley. Two long lariats were securely fastened to the halter. At the end of one was my brother. I officiated at the end of the other, with the pony standing midway between us, some twenty feet from either, and up to his fetlocks in sand, an anxious spectator of what was going on. Everything being in readiness, Romeo, with never a fear or doubt as to the result, stepped quietly up to the side of the pony, who, turning his head somewhat inquiringly, uttered a few snorts indicative of anything but gentleness. Romeo, who was as active as a cat, succeeded in placing his hands on the pony's back, and with an injunction to us to keep firm hold on the lariats he sprang lightly upon the back of the pony and seized the mane.
I have seen trained mules, the delight of boys who attend the circus, and sometimes of persons of more advanced age, and have witnessed the laughable efforts of the youngsters who vainly endeavor to ride the contumacious quadruped once around the ring; but I remember nothing of this description to equal or resemble the frantic plunges of the Indian pony in his untrained efforts to free his back from its burden, nor the equally frantic and earnest efforts of the rider to maintain his position. Fortunately for the holders of the lariats they exceeded the length of the pony's legs, or his heels, which were being elevated in all directions and almost at the same time, would have compelled us to relinquish our hold and leave Romeo to his fate. As both pony and rider seemed to redouble their efforts for the mastery the scene became more ludicrous, while the hearty and prolonged shouts of laughter from the bystanders on all sides seemed only to add intensity to the contest.
This may strike the reader as a not very dignified proceeding, particularly, upon the part of one of the lariat holders; but we were not studying how to appear dignified, but how to amuse ourselves. So exhausted did I become with unrestrained laughter as I beheld Romeo in his lofty gyrations about a center which belonged to the movable order, that a much further prolongation of the sport would have forced me to relinquish my hold on the lariat. But I was spared this result. The pony, as if studying the problem, had indulged in almost every conceivable form of leaping, and now, rising almost perpendicularly on his hind legs, stood erect, pawing the air with his fore legs and compelling Romeo, in order to prevent himself from sliding off, to clasp him about the neck with both arms. The pony seemed almost as if waiting this situation, as with the utmost quickness, and before Romeo could resume his seat, he descended from his elevated attitude and the next moment his head was almost touching the ground, and his heels occupied the space just vacated by his head in mid air. This sudden change was too much for Romeo, and as if projected from an ancient catapult he departed from his place on the back of the pony and landed on the deep, soft sand, many feet in advance of his late opponent. Three times was this repeated with almost the same result until finally Romeo, as he brushed the sand from his matted locks, expressed it as his opinion that no one but an Indian could ride that pony. As Romeo was half Indian, the distinction seemed finely drawn.
Innumerable were the tricks played on each other by one and all; everything seemed legitimate sport which tended to kill time. Three days after the departure of the Arapahoe village the lookout reported that parties were in sight some three or four miles in the direction taken by the village. This created no little excitement in camp. Fieldglasses were brought into immediate requisition, and after a careful examination of the parties who could be plainly seen approaching us the distance, we all came to the conclusion that what we saw must be the escort with our supplies. A few horses were saddled and two of the officers, with some the men, galloped out to meet the advancing party. It proved to be Colonel Cooke with California Joe and a dozen men, bringing with them several pack animals loaded with fresh supplies.
I need not say how we welcomed their arrival. It was too late in the day to make it desirable for us to set out on the trail of Little Robe, as it was necessary to unpack and issue rations and repack the remainder; so that it was concluded to remain until next morning, an additional reason in favor of this resolution being that the horses of Colonel Cooke's party would have the benefit of rest. The account given by Colonel Cooke and California Joe concerning their march was exceedingly interesting. It will be remembered that it was the expectation that we would find the Arapahoe village nearer our main camp than we afterward did, and in my letter to General Sheridan I had intimated that Colonel Cooke would probably overtake us at a point not far from the termination of the Wichita Mountains.
Colonel Cooke arrived at the designated point, but we, of course,
had gone, and not finding any letter or signal at our deserted camp he became, not unnaturally, anxious as to where we had gone. This will not be wondered at when it is remembered that he had but thirteen men with him and was then in a hostile country and far from all support. However, he had nothing to do but to continue on our trail. That night will no doubt live long in the memory of Colonel Cooke.
After reaching camp with his little party in a small piece of timber, he, as he afterward related to me, began taking a mental survey of his situation. For fear of misleading the reader, I will here remark, as I have indicated in previous chapters, that fear, or a lack of the highest order of personal courage, was not numbered among the traits of character possessed by this officer. After seeing that the animals were properly secured for the night, and his men made comfortable, he sat down by the camp fire awaiting the preparation of his evening meal. In the meantime California Joe found him, and entered into a discussion as to the probabilities of overtaking us soon, and in a kind of Jack Bunsby style suggested, if not, why not?
The more Colonel Cooke looked at the matter, the more trying seemed his position. Had he known, as we then knew, that the Arapahoes had been found and a peaceful agreement entered into, it would have solved all his difficulty. Of this he of course was ignorant, and thoughts ran through his mind that perhaps my little party had been led on only to be massacred, and his would follow blindly to the same fate. This recalled all former Indian atrocities with which he was familiar, while prominent above them all rose before him the fate of young Kidder and party, whose fate is recorded in a former chapter.
In thinking of this, Colonel Cooke was struck by a coincidence. Kidder's party consisted of almost the identical number which composed his own. Kidder had a guide, and Cooke had California Joe; all of which, without attaching any importance to his words, the latter took pains to remind Colonel Cooke of. By the time supper was prepared Colonel Cooke felt the responsibilities of his position too strongly to have any appetite for food, so that when supper was commenced he simply declined it and invited California Joe to help himself, an invitation the latter was not slow in accepting. Posting his guards for the night, Colonel Cooke felt that to sleep was impossible. He took his seat by the camp fire and with his arms by his side impatiently waited the coming of dawn.
California Joe, who regarded the present as of far more importance than the future, and whose slumber would have been little disturbed even had he known that hostile Indians were soon to be encountered, disposed of Colonel Cooke's supper, and then, wrapping himself up in his blanket, stretched himself under a tree near the fire and was soon sleeping soundly. His brief account of the enjoyment he derived from Colonel Cooke's supper was characteristic: "thar I sot an' sot a eatin' uv that young man's wittles, while he in his cavalry boots, with his pistol in his belt, stood a lookin' inter the fire."
Early next morning, as soon as the light was sufficient to enable them to follow our trail, Colonel Cooke and his party were on their way. About noon, as they were passing over a low ridge, yet sufficiently high to enable them to see for miles beyond, the eyes of one of the party caught a view of a long line of dark-looking objects miles in advance, yet directly in their path. Each moment the objects became more distinct, until finally Colonel Cooke, who was studying them intently through his glass, pronounced the simple word, "Indians." "Ef that is so, Colonel, thar's a many one uv 'em," was the sober response of California Joe, who rode at his side.
By this time the Indians could be plainly seen, although numbers of them continued to gallop up from the rear. It was evident from their movements that they had discovered Colonel Cooke's party almost as soon as he had seen them, and that the entire body of Indians was directing its march toward the little eminence from which the white men were now watching their movements, "What do yer think about it now, Colonel?" said California Joe, at last breaking the silence. "Well, Joe, we must do the best we can; there is no use in running." "You're right," replied Joe; an Injun 'll beat a white man runnin' every time, so I 'spect our best holt is fitin', but, Lor' a' mercy! look at 'em; thar ain't enuff uv us to go half round!"
Getting his little party collected in good order, and speaking words of encouragement to all, Colonel Cooke quietly awaited further developments. His thoughts in the meanwhile must have been such as he probably never wishes to indulge in again, All sorts of terrible visions and ideas flashed through his mind; the most prominent as well as plausible being that the Indians had made away with my party and from Little Robe and Yellow Bear had learned of the expected supplies, with their small escort, and were now in search of the latter. Whatever varied thoughts of this character chased each other through his brain, he at once came to the firm resolve that whatever fate was in store for him he would meet it like a soldier, and if the worst came he would fight to the last.
By this time it was seen that a single Indian was galloping in advance of the rest, as if hastening to reach the white men. "That's a queer dodge," remarked California Joe; but the mystery was soon cleared away as the Indian began to draw near to the party without slackening his pace. Colonel Cooke and California Joe instinctively advanced to meet him, when to their great joy and surprise it proved to be none other than the faithful Yellow Bear, who, realizing the situation, had ridden in advance of his people in order to assure the whites of their friendly character. His coming no doubt caused the hearts of Colonel Cooke and his party to beat lighter. Or, as California Joe expressed it: "When I seed it wuz Yaller Bar I knowed we wuz all right." From Yellow Bear Colonel Cooke learned where he might expect to find us, and thus another cause of anxiety was lifted from his mind.
The morning after my party had been reinforced by the arrival just described, we set out under guidance of Neva and the two young Arapahoe warriors and followed the direction in which Little Robe had gone. It being one of the winter months, the Indian ponies were still in unfit condition to make long or rapid marches; for this reason the two Arapahoes had left their ponies with the village and were accompanying or rather Preceding us on foot; an undertaking which they seemed to have no difficulty in accomplishing. The grazing became more indifferent each day as we journeyed toward the west, until finally we ceased to rely upon it, but as a substitute fed our horses upon the bark of the young cottonwood trees which are generally found fringing the borders of the streams. In spite, however, of our utmost care our horses and pack animals, having exhausted their supply of forage, began to fail in strength and condition under their cottonwood bark diet.
After reaching and crossing Red River at a point west of that at which the survey of Marcy and McClellan crossed it, and failing to discover any indication of the recent occupation of the ground by Indians, I had fears that if I prolonged my journey much farther our animals would not be able to reach the main camp, so famished had they become in the last few days. I therefore, after consultation with Neva and the two Arapahoes, decided to recross to the north bank of Red River and follow up its course until we should reach a small tributary coming in from the northwest, and which Neva informed me would furnish a good camp ground. In the meanwhile Neva, who was well mounted on a hardy, active mule, was to take with him the two young Arapahoes and push on in advance in search of the Cheyenne village, the understanding being that I should follow in his direction until the stream referred to was reached, where I would await his return three days. Should he fail to rejoin us in that time, we would commence our march to the main camp.
When it was known that this plan had been settled upon, young Brewster, who never a moment had become discouraged as to his final success in discovering his lost sister, came to me and in the most earnest manner asked permission to accompany Neva in his search for the Cheyenne village. I did everything I could to dissuade him from so dangerous a project. No arguments were of any avail. He felt satisfied that his sister was a prisoner in the Cheyenne village, and this was his last and only opportunity to gain a knowledge of the fact; and even if the chances of death or torture starin
g him in the face he preferred to risk all and learn the truth rather than live longer in a state of horrible uncertainty. Against my judgment in the matter, I was forced by his importunate manner to grant him permission to accompany Neva.
Taking a suitable amount of supplies with them, the three Indians and young Brewster set out, Neva being the only one of the party mounted. After they had left us we moved In the same direction, with the intention of halting on the stream indicated by Neva, there to await their return. While the reader Is also waiting their return, I will refer to an Incident which should have appeared in an earlier part of this chapter. It was neither more nor less than what might, among fashionable notices in the Indian press, provided they had one, have been termed an elopement in high life.
One evening after we had gone into camp many long weary miles from our point of starting, and when we supposed we had left all the Kiowas safely in camp awaiting the release of their two chiefs, Lone Wolf and Satanta, we were all surprised to see a young and handsome Kiowa warrior gallop into our midst accompanied by a young squaw, who certainly could not have reached the age which distinguishes the woman from the girl. In a few moments our little party gathered about these two wayfarers, eager to learn the cause of their sudden and unexpected visit. The girl was possessed of almost marvelous beauty, a beauty so remarkable that my companions of that march refer to her to this day as the most beautiful squaw they have ever seen. Her graceful and well-rounded form, her clearly-cut features, her dark expressive eyes, fringed with long silken lashes, checks rich with the color of youth, teeth of pearly whiteness occasionally peeping from between her full, rosy lips, added withal to a most bewitching manner, required not the romance of her story to make her an object of deep interest in the eyes of the gallants of our party. But to their story:
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