University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER II.

A Train of wagons were coursing their westward
way, with visions of the future bright as our own.
Sometimes a single team might be seen traveling alone.

Our party were among the many small squads emigrating
to the land of promise.

The day on which our doomed family were scattered
and killed was the 12th of July, a warm and oppressive
day. The burning sun poured forth its hottest rays upon
the great Black Hills and the vast plains of Montana,
and the great emigrant road was strewed with men,
women, and children, and flocks of cattle, representing
towns of adventurers.

We looked anxiously forward to the approach of
evening, with a sense of relief, after the excessive heat
of the day.

Our journey had been pleasant, but toilsome, for
we had been long weeks on the road.

Slowly our wagons wound through the timber that
skirted the Little Box Elder, and, crossing the stream,
we ascended the opposite bank.

We had no thought of danger or timid misgivings
on the subject of savages, for our fears had been all dispersed
by constantly received assurances of their friendliness.

At the outposts and ranches, we heard nothing but
ridicule of their pretensions to warfare, and at Fort
Laramie, where information that should have been
reliable was given us, we had renewed assurances of
the safety of the road and friendliness of the Indians.

At Horseshoe Creek, which we had just left, and
where there was a telegraph station, our inquiries had
elicited similar assurances as to the quiet and peaceful
state of the country through which we must pass.

Being thus persuaded that fears were groundless, we
entertained none, and, as I have mentioned before, our
small company preferred to travel alone on account of
the greater progress made in that way.

The beauty of the sunset and the scenery around us
filled our hearts with joy, and Mr. Wakefield's voice
was heard in song for the last time, as he sang, "Ho!
for Idaho." Little Mary's low, sweet voice, too, joined
in the chorus. She was so happy in her childish glee
on that day, as she always was. She was the star and
joy of our whole party.

We wended our way peacefully and cheerfully on,
without a thought of the danger that was lying like a
tiger in ambush in our path.

Without a sound of preparation or a word of warning,

the bluffs before us were covered with a party of
about two hundred and fifty Indians, painted and
equipped for war, who uttered the wild war-whoop and
fired a signal volley of guns and revolvers into the air.

This terrible and unexpected apparition came upon us
with such startling swiftness that we had not time to
think before the main body halted and sent out a part
of their force, which circled us round at regular intervals,
but some distance from our wagons. Recovering
from the shock, our men instantly resolved on defense,
and corralled the wagons. My husband was looked
upon as leader, as he was principal owner of the train.
Without regard to the insignificance of our numbers,
Mr. Kelly was ready to stand his ground; but, with all
the power I could command, I entreated him to forbear
and only attempt conciliation. If you fire one shot,"
I said, "I feel sure you will seal our fate, as they seem
to outnumber us ten to one, and will at once massacre
all of us."

Love for the trembling little girl at my side, my husband,
and friends, made me strong to protest against any
thing that would lessen our chance for escape with our
lives. Poor little Mary! from the first she had entertained
an ungovernable dread of the Indians, a repugnance
that could not be overcome, although in our
intercourse with friendly savages, I had endeavored to
show how unfounded it was, and persuade her that
they were civil and harmless, but all in vain. Mr.

Kelly bought her beads and many little presents from
them which she much admired, but she would always
add, "They look so cross at me and they have knives
and tomahawks, and I fear they will kill me." Could
it be that her tender young mind had some presentiment
or warning of her horrid fate?

My husband advanced to meet the chief and demand
his intentions.

The savage leader immediately came toward him,
riding forward and uttering the words, "How! how!"
which are understood to mean a friendly salutation.

His name was Ottawa, and he was a war chief of
the Ogalalla band of the Sioux nation. He struck
himself on his breast, saying, "Good Indian, me," and
pointing to those around him, he continued, "Heap
good Indian, hunt buffalo and deer." He assured us
of his utmost friendship for the white people; then
he shook hands, and his band followed his example,
crowding around our wagons, shaking us all by the
hand over and over again, until our arms ached, and
grinning and nodding with every demonstration of
good will.

Our only policy seemed to be temporizing, in hope
of assistance approaching; and, to gain time, we allowed
them unopposed to do whatever they fancied. First,
they said they would like to change one of their horses
for the one Mr. Kelly was riding, a favorite race
horse. Very much against his will, he acceded to their

request, and gave up to them the noble animal to which
he was fondly attached.

My husband came to me with words of cheer and
hope, but oh! what a marked look of despair was upon
his face, such as I had never seen before.

The Indians asked for flour, and we gave them what
they wanted of provisions. The flour they emptied
upon the ground, saving only the sack. They talked
to us partly by signs and partly in broken English,
with which some of them were quite familiar, and as
we were anxious to suit ourselves to their whims and
preserve a friendly intercourse as long as possible, we
allowed them to take whatever they desired, and offered
them many presents besides. It was, as I have said before,
extremely warm weather, but they remarked that
the cold made it necessary for them to look for clothing,
and begged for some from our stock, which was granted
without the slightest offered objection on our part. I,
in a careless-like manner, said they must give me some
moccasins for some articles of clothing that I had just
handed them, and very pleasantly a young Indian gave
me a nice pair, richly embroidered with different colored
beads.

Our anxiety to conciliate them increased every moment,
for the hope of help arriving from some quarter
grew stronger as they dallied, and, alas! it was our
only one.

They grew bolder and more insolent in their advances.

One of them laid hold of my husband's gun,
but, being repulsed, desisted.

The chief at last intimated that he desired us to proceed
on our way, promising that we should not be
molested. We obeyed, without trusting them, and
soon the train was again in motion, the Indians insisting
on driving our herd, and growing ominously
familiar. Soon my husband called a halt. He saw
that we were approaching, a rocky glen, in whose
gloomy depths he anticipated a murderous attack, and
from which escape would be utterly impossible. Our
enemies urged us still forward, but we resolutely refused
to stir, when they requested that we should prepare
supper, which they said they would share with
us, and then go to the hills to sleep. The men of our
party concluded it best to give them a feast. Mr.
Kelly gave orders to our two colored servants to prepare
at once to make a feast for the Indians.

Andy said, "I think, if I knows any thing about
it, they's had their supper;" as they had been eating
sugar crackers from our wagons for an hour or more.

The two colored men had been slaves among the
Cherokees, and knew the Indian character by experience.
Their fear and horror of them was unbounded,
and their terror seemed pitiable to us, as they had
worked for us a long time, and were most faithful,
trustworthy servants.

Each man was busy preparing the supper; Mr.

Larimer and Frank were making the fire; Mr. Wakefield
was getting provisions out of the wagon; Mr.
Taylor was attending to his team; Mr. Kelly and
Andy were out some distance gathering wood; Mr.
Sharp was distributing sugar among the Indians; supper,
that they asked for, was in rapid progress of preparation,
when suddenly our terrible enemies threw off
their masks and displayed their truly demoniac natures.
There was a simultaneous discharge of arms,
and when the cloud of smoke cleared away, I could
see the retreating form of Mr. Larimer and the slow
motion of poor Mr. Wakefield, for he was mortally
wounded.

Mr. Kelly and Andy made a miraculous escape with
their lives. Mr. Sharp was killed within a few feet
of me. Mr. Taylor—I never can forget his face as I
saw him shot through the forehead with a rifle ball.
He looked at me as he fell backward to the ground a
corpse. I was the last object that met his dying gaze.
Our poor faithful Frank fell at my feet pierced by
many arrows. I recall the scene with a sickening
horror. I could not see my husband anywhere, and
did not know his fate, but feared and trembled. With
a glance at my surroundings, my senses seemed gone
for a time, but I could only live and endure.

I had but little time for thought, for the Indians
quickly sprang into our wagons, tearing off covers,
breaking, crushing, and smashing all hinderances to

plunder, breaking open locks, trunks, and boxes, and
distributing or destroying our goods with great rapidity,
using their tomahawks to pry open boxes, which they
split up in savage recklessness.

Oh, what horrible sights met my view! Pen is
powerless to portray the scenes occurring around me.
They filled the air with the fearful war-whoops and
hideous shouts. I endeavored to keep my fears quiet
as possible, knowing that an indiscreet act on my part
might result in jeopardizing our lives, though I felt
certain that we two helpless women would share
death by their hands; but with as much of an air of
indifference as I could command, I kept still, hoping
to prolong our lives, even if but a few moments. I was
not allowed this quiet but a moment, when two of the
most savage-looking of the party rushed up into my
wagon, with tomahawks drawn in their right hands,
and with their left seized me by both hands and pulled
me violently to the ground, injuring my limbs very
severely, almost breaking them, from the effects of
which I afterward suffered a great deal. I turned to
my little Mary, who, with outstretched hands, was
standing in the wagon, took her in my arms and helped
her to the ground. I then turned to the chief, put my
hand upon his arm, and implored his protection for
my fellow-prisoner and our children. At first he gave
me no hope, but seemed utterly indifferent to my
prayers. Partly in words and partly by signs, he

ordered me to remain quiet, placing his hand upon his
revolver, that hung in a belt at his side, as an argument
to enforce obedience.

A short distance in the rear of our train a wagon
was in sight. The chief immediately dispatched a detachment
of his band to capture or to cut it off from us,
and I saw them ride furiously off in pursuit of the
small party, which consisted only of one family and
a man who rode in advance of the single wagon.
The horseman was almost instantly surrounded and
killed by a volley of arrows. The husband of the
family quickly turned his team around and started
them at full speed, gave the whip and lines to his wife,
who held close in her arms her youngest child. He
then went to the back end of his wagon and threw
out boxes, trunks, every thing that he possessed. His
wife meantime gave all her mind and strength to urging
the horses forward on their flight from death. The
Indians had by this time come very near, so that they
riddled the wagon-cover with bullets and arrows, one
passing through the sleeve of the child's dress in its
mother's arms, but doing it no personal injury.

The terrified man kept the Indians at bay with his
revolver, and finally they left him and rode furiously
back to the scene of the murder of our train.