Читать книгу The Adventures of William F. Drannan - William F. Drannan - Страница 33

When we pulled out for Klamath Lake we traveled from five to ten miles a day and kept scouts out in all directions. While riding along one day with my four assistants, a few miles in advance of the command, we came to a beautiful body of water which is now known as Clear Lake, which is the head of Lost river. Here we dismounted, and on looking into a brush shanty that stood on the lake shore, I saw more fish than I had ever seen before at one time. The little shanty was filled to its utmost capacity with fish, hanging there to dry for winter use. Further on we found numerous other similar shanties, all containing like quantities of drying fish. These were the Indians' dry-houses. They had caught the fish and hung them there to dry in the hot summer's sun. Such was their food in winter when the land game was scarce.

After our fill of admiring the beautiful lake and resting our horses, we mounted and started back to the command. We had gone only a short distance, when, all of a sudden, on reaching the top of a little hill, we were met by twelve Indians, who had not seen us, nor us them, until within a hundred yards of each other.

There was only one thing to do and that was to fight, for they were directly between us and the command, and the braver we were I thought the better; so I gave orders to charge, but the Indians did not stand fire. We got three of them that first round and in another hundred yards we got three more, but their horses being fresh and ours somewhat jaded, they outran us and got away.

These were the first Klamath Indians I had got close enough to, to see how their moccasins were made, and for a person engaged in the business that I was then in, it was quite essential to be able to tell the tribe an Indian belonged to by his track. And here I will state that not any two tribes cut and make their moccasins alike and at that time I could tell an Indian by his track, if he belonged to any tribe that I was familiar with.

Here we laid over three days to let our horses rest up a little. While here we had all the fish that we wanted to eat, for the lake was literally full of the finest in the land.

In a southwesterly direction we could see, by looking through our field glasses, a large valley, which Col. Elliott thought to be the country which he was ordered to go to.

The second day after leaving Clear Lake we struck another lake. We did not name it, but it has since been known as Tule Lake, and is the outlet of Lost river, but has no visible outlet itself. Here we laid over two days, after which we pulled out up the valley. Two days more and we were at Klamath Lake, and here Col. Elliott established his headquarters and started in to fortify himself against the Indians, which were very numerous in this country at that time.

John Riley, Fred Miller, John Boyd, George Jones and myself took four days' rations and started out to investigate the surrounding country north of headquarters.

The next afternoon about three o'clock we saw a band of Indians some distance away as they were passing over a somewhat uneven country. We were not just able to tell the number in the band, but thought there must be about twenty, and they were driving some loose horses.

We stopped to consider the matter as to what was best to be done. George Jones said: "Boys, we have been out all summer and have not got a single horse to pay for our trouble, and I think I could fight like the devil if there was a good band of horses at stake." The balance of the crowd seemed to think likewise, so we concluded to follow up the Indians and give them a round. We started at once, but before overtaking them they had pitched camp on the shore of Lake Klamath.

After it was quite dark, George Jones and I crawled around near the camp and counted twenty Indians.

Our intention had been to stampede the horses in stead of making an attack on the Indians, as we thought the number too great to tackle, but an investigation developed the fact that they had turned their horses into a little peninsula that ran out into the lake, and had pitched their tents so as to hold their horses in there. Riley said there was only one of two things to do, and that was to make the attack or crawfish. We were all well armed, the other four having each a six-shooter and a sabre, and I had my big knife, which was almost as good as a sabre, and two six-shooters.

We laid and watched their movements until all turned in for the night.

They were badly scattered, making it worse for us than if they had been in a bunch. We waited until about eleven o'clock, when we thought they were all asleep, and having laid our plans of attack, we all crawled up abreast to within a rod or so of where some of them were lying, and each drew his pistol and sabre.

Taking our pistols in our left hands and sabres in the right, we made a rush for them, intending to cut the first ones down with our sabres, and if we got into close quarters we could use both at the same time.

In such cases it is quite essential that a scout should be able to use his pistol in his left hand, which had been part of their drill duties before starting out scouting.

As soon as the attack was made some of the Indians arose on their feet, and we tried to cut them down as fast as they arose, but it was so dark that it was difficult to distinguish our own men from the Indians.

The Indians fought us with their tomahawks, and it was not long until we were all mixed up together, and a person had to look close before striking, for fear of making a mistake. After fighting some time I had two hand-to-hand encounters, but was victorious in both of them. Just as I had finished the second one I got a tremendous blow from behind that caught me on the shoulder, and it knocked me as blind as a bat. When I tried to rise I would stagger and fall like a drunken man. After making the third attempt to get on my feet, and seeing it was no use and being afraid my own men might mistake me for an Indian, I laid down as still as I could until the fight was ended.

About this time my shoulder commenced to pain me fearfully, and it was a hard matter for me to lie still. I could then see a very little, but to me everything was still. Just then I heard George Jones' voice. He was asking where Will was. I did not hear any reply, and a moment later he hallooed at the top of his voice. It sounded to me as though he was a long ways off, but at the same time he was within four rods of me. I made out that time to answer so he could hear me, and in a moment they were all by my side. Some one raised me up, while another ran to the lake and got his hat full of water. They removed my clothing sufficiently to exam me my wound, and found that my shoulder blade was broken in two places. When I was able to talk, the boys asked what they had better do, saying they had the last Indian killed. I said if you are sure you have them all killed, build a fire and put out guards until morning, and we will return to headquarters with the stock.

George Jones, feeling much concerned about me on account of my wound, proposed to ride to headquarters that night for the surgeon, but I told him it was not necessary, that I would be able to ride to headquarters the next day.

I took a sup of brandy, which we were never without on a trip like this, and drank a cup of coffee, after which I felt much better, but could not move my left hand or shoulder without much pain.

The next morning as soon as it was light enough to see to scalp an Indian, the boys took twenty-one scalps, and we had fifty-two horses, some of which were extraordinary good ones of that class. That was ten horses each and two over. After having counted them, George Jones said: "I think Will ought to have the two extra horses, for he is the only one that got wounded in the fight."

The boys were jubilant over their victory and the band of horses, but were very sorry to have one of their comrades so badly used up. After they had breakfast over, the saddle horses were brought in, my horse was saddled for me and they assisted me in getting on him, or rather put me on, for I was almost as helpless as a child.

My shoulder they had tied up as best they could with two handkerchiefs, and one of the boys leading my horse, we started for headquarters. We were about twenty miles from the command, but I never rode fifty miles that seemed as far as that twenty miles did. When we arrived at camp my shoulder was badly swollen, and it took the surgeon a long time to get it set just to his notion, or, at least it seemed so to me, and when he did finally get it set he gave me something to put me to sleep.

However, I was not able to ride any more that summer. All that I was able to do was to sit in camp, hear the reports of scouts as they came in and give orders.

It had been six weeks since I was hurt, and it was getting late in the fall and the weather looking somewhat blustery, I told the Colonel I thought I would go back to San Francisco and winter there.

Up to this time the surgeon had not allowed me to ride on horseback, but I had come to the conclusion that I could now stand it to ride without any serious difficulty, and I was anxious to get back before winter set in.

When I told the Colonel my intentions, he said: "How in the name of God will you get to San Francisco? If you were well and able to ride I could not spare an escort sufficient to guard you through."

"It don't matter about the escort," I said, "when I get ready I will go if I have to go alone."

"Young man," said he, "you must be insane to even think of such a thing."

"Colonel," I said, "you may call it what you please, but I mean just what I say; and I suppose that as you have been out all summer, having no chance to either send or receive any mail, that you would like to send out after that."

Said he, "I have no one to send, that could make the trip without asking a larger escort than I could spare."

I told the Colonel that I could select two men from his command, either of whom I could take and make the trip safely, or the two would make it alone with perfect safety.

The Colonel replied, "If I could only think so I certainly would ask them to go;" and he asked who the parties were to whom I had reference. I told him they were Messrs. Jones and Riley, who had been my assistant scouts the past summer.

The Colonel asked when they would be in camp. I told him they had just returned a few minutes previous. He said: "Tell them I will see them at your quarters at seven o'clock this evening." I assured him that they would be there, but up to this time I had not mentioned or even hinted at such a thing to them, but being desirous of seeing them before the Colonel had a talk with them, I set about to find them. I found them in their quarters and told them of the proposed meeting and the object, and asked them what they thought of it.

George Jones said: "As far as I am concerned, I think I can make the trip alone, for I can see an Indian just as far as he can see me, and just as quick, and I am perfectly willing to take the chances."

"And how with you, Riley?" I asked. He replied: "I will go if I can get permission."

At seven o'clock, sharp, all hands met at my tent. The Colonel opened the conversation by saying: "Gentlemen, our chief scout, Mr. Drannan, has concluded to leave us and go to San Francisco to spend the winter, and under the circumstances I don't want to see him go alone. Do you men feel like accompanying him and bringing our mail back on your return?"

George Jones said: "I can only speak for myself. I will accompany him alone and bring the mail back if no one else feels like going." At this Riley said he was willing to accompany George on the trip if necessary.

Col. Elliott straightened up and said: "Boys, I don't believe you realize the danger you will necessarily have to encounter in making this trip. Think the matter over thoroughly until to-morrow evening, by which time you will be able to give me a decided answer;" and then the Colonel departed, requesting us all to meet him in his quarters the following evening at seven o'clock, sharp. After he had gone George Jones asked me how long I thought it would take us to go to Sacramento. About fifteen days was my estimate, and I was of the opinion that we would best go an entirely different route to what we came. Before leaving my tent they had made up their minds to tackle the trip anyway, let it go as it might, and the time set to start was ten days from that.

The following evening we all went to the Colonel's tent at the hour agreed upon. He asked the boys as soon as they entered if they had made up their minds to tackle the trip, and they both told him they had. He then asked me when I would be ready to start, and I told him in ten days.

George Jones then asked the Colonel what length of time he would give him and Riley to make the trip in. "I will give you a month and a half," was the reply.

Five of us had fifty-two horses that we had captured from the Indians. I called the other four together and told them if they would let me pick six horses from the band they might have the remainder. This being agreeable, the day following the horses were driven into the corral and I selected my six. Jones and Riley put in a good portion of the day in saddling and riding them to see whether they were broke or not, and we found them all to be fairly well broken to ride.

The next day I told the Colonel that I was ready to resign my position as chief of scouts, for you will have to appoint another man, and you had just as well do it first as last.

"No," said the Colonel, "when you are ready to start, I will give you a voucher for your pay up to that time, and when you get to San Francisco you can get your money."

We commenced making preparations to start, but did not let it be generally known until the day before starting, and then everybody wanted to write a letter to send out, and by the time we were ready to start we had a pack-horse loaded with mail.

The Colonel sent a long letter to his wife, and told me a lot of stuff to tell the other officers, of which I did not remember one- fourth.

Finally we were rigged up and ready to start, but we had a hard time to get away, for Dick Jones wanted me to tell Jim Johnson so and so. Another had some word to send to a friend, whose name I had never heard before, and never thought of after I was out of sight.

After shaking hands all around, and Col. Elliott telling me a lot of stuff to tell his wife and numerous other ladies which he knew I would not repeat the half of, for he knew that there was not another man in San Francisco that hated to try to talk to ladies as much as I did. If we had not jarred loose and rode off I suppose we would have been there all day, and we would have had enough word to carry in our heads, that had it been written, would have made a book that Webster's Unabridged Dictionary would be small compared with it, and again shaking hands we waved our hats at the many soldiers standing around and rode away.