The Second William Penn Part 3

Colonel Boone who was a whole-hearted, "hail fellow well met" sort of a man, invited them to come in and to put their horses in the barn and to give them one really good feed, remarking at the same time that they had better remove their saddles and allow the horses to cool off.

One soldier, without a first thought, began to throw his saddle off, but was quickly prevented by a quicker witted soldier, but the action was not quick enough. Colonel Boone had observed without appearing to do so, the normal condition of the back of the horse, and something had flown to his mind, that "all was not right on the Wabash," and he concluded to keep cool. Something told him that they were agents of Mr. Haynes, and were on mischief bent.

After caring well for the horses, the soldiers were invited to the house where they went to the back porch and refreshed themselves with clean cistern water and fresh towels. While they were getting "slicked up" as some of the soldiers jokingly called their face wash, Colonel Boone called the old negro woman to bring a pitcher of whiskey, gla.s.ses, sugar, nutmeg, and eggs, and make them a rich toddy. When this was done, Colonel Boone with a lavish hand distributed it generously among his guests, after which they were escorted through the old-fas.h.i.+oned long hall to the front porch where they rested and awaited the good dinner already in progress for them.

Mrs. Boone was sick in bed, and one or two of the soldiers seeing some one in bed, and more to find out who was there than anything else, sauntered into the room and up to the bed. As soon as he saw he had made a mistake, he quickly apologized and retreated to the front porch, where, to cover his embarra.s.sment, he asked how far it was to Haynes'.

Boone told him it was seven miles.

Fearing the soldiers would become restless by their prolonged wait for dinner, Colonel Boone went into the house and told his two daughters, Maggie and Mollie, to help the old negro lady get dinner, and to stay in the dining room during the dinner hour and wait on the soldiers, and be as pleasant as possible with them. He told the girls that he was afraid the soldiers were messengers of mischief, sent there at the suggestion of Mr. Haynes, but that he had not decided just what they intended to do. It was the idea of Colonel Boone to make the whiskey draw the object of this visit to him, from his guests, and some of the more talkative ones had already begun to divulge their business. The Colonel decided to leave them alone so they could consult with themselves, so busied himself about the house making his visitors comfortable wherever he could. He stopped in the living room and listened to the conversation going on between the soldiers out on the porch, which conversation sometimes developed into an argument about Mr. Haynes and the Lieutenant, the full import of which he could not glean. Then he returned to the porch, in a round-about way, brought up the subject of distance, from his place to Haynes. He then said: "Mr. Haynes had an ill-feeling toward me, and I have been told that he is circulating a report that I am a rebel, and that he intends to do me bodily harm." One soldier was in good condition then to talk--the toddy had done its work well--and he said: "I gad, Colonel, you ah jes' about right----;" but he could get no further. One soldier had closed his mouth, with the remark to Colonel Boone, that some soldiers never knew what they were talking about, when they had enjoyed a good gla.s.s of whiskey. The Colonel laughed as though the subject was of no importance to him and strolled out in the yard. Just then Mollie Boone appeared at the dining room door with a cheery smile, beguiling as the flower in her hair was fragrant, and with a "welcome, gentlemen, to the Boone home," in her comely face, bade them all go in to dinner. At the dinner table wit and mirth flowed as freely as did the water down the throats of those hungry boys in blue.

When these boys had partaken of this bounty to their full satisfaction, they thanked the pretty waitresses for the excellent dinner. The daughters followed them from the dining room begging them to never pa.s.s this way without coming in to see them, and promising to have a feast prepared for them. They departed, the girls returning to the dining room to peep behind curtains to watch the manly soldiers disappear around the house, to the stables where their horses were still munching the hay, caring nothing at all about returning to the station at Haynes'.

The next trip I made to Bent's Fort was made without a conductor on the stage. One of the owners of the Stage Company, Mr. J.T. Barnum, said to me: "Billy, you go through to Denver with the express and mail, and then act as conductor back again to the Fort."

On my return trip, I came in contact with a company of soldiers camped at Pueblo, Colorado. Several of the soldiers were at the Hotel at Pueblo, and during our talk together, I asked one of the soldiers if he knew a Sergeant by the name of Joe Graham. "Oh, yes," one man replied, "he is down there in camp now." This soldier volunteered to bring him to see me.

Mr. Graham's father was a Methodist preacher in Monterey, New York, when Joe and I were small boys, and we greeted each other with warmth and affection, and had a jolly time talking over the "old times" when we were bare-footed school lads. Finally Joe asked me where I "was holding forth and what I was doing?" I told him that I had been living with Colonel Boone, driving the stage coach from there to Bent's Old Fort, but this trip I was on my way from Denver acting as conductor of the mail. Mr. Graham asked me how long I had been with Colonel Boone. I told him I had been with him up to that time, about six months. "I understand," said Mr. Graham, "that Mr. Boone is a rebel." I told him that he was most emphatically mistaken, that Colonel Boone was one of the strongest Union men I had ever known, and that he was as strong a Unionist as ever lived. Then it was that I found out what mischief Haynes had sent the soldiers to the home of Colonel Boone, to do.

Joe Graham told me that he was the Orderly Sergeant of the company that had camped at Mr. Haynes, and Mr. Haynes had told the Lieutenant that Colonel Boone was a rebel, and had a company of Texas Rangers camped close to his premises for the purpose of making a raid on the Union soldiers. Joe Graham stated that the Lieutenant had ordered him to take some soldiers and go to the home of Colonel Boone, and if he found things as Haynes had represented, to confiscate all his property, and to burn all his buildings, but that the Lieutenant had cautioned them to be careful and to ascertain if the story Haynes had told was true before they began depredations.

When Old Joe had finished his recital, my "dander was up." "Joe," said I, "will you give me an affidavit of these facts, with the statement of Mr. Haynes to the Lieutenant?" He told me that he would be pleased to do so. We went to the Stage Company's office where Dan Hayden, a Notary Public in and for Pueblo, Colorado, drew up the statement and Sergeant Graham verified it.

After thanking Mr. Graham for his kindness in this matter, I proceeded to Bent's Fort, with what I considered good evidence of Mr. Haynes'

guilt. When I arrived at Bent's Fort, I had time to go from there to Fort Lyons to meet the stage coming from the States, and I took this affidavit with me to Major Anthony, the Commanding Officer of Fort Lyons. Mr. Anthony told me that he had heard of some such talk as this, coming from Mr. Haynes. He immediately sent two soldiers to Mr. Haynes'

and had him put under arrest and brought to the Fort. Mr. Haynes was taken to Denver, Colorado, given a trial, convicted, and sentenced to the penitentiary.

CHAPTER VIII.

Macauley and Lambert Spar; Macauley is Placed in Guard House and the Indian Agency Reverts to Major Anthony.

A few weeks prior to the event last reported, the Indians reported to Colonel Boone that their agent, Mr. Macauley, was doing them an injustice. They declared to Colonel Boone that they had as much right to take something to eat from their wagons and trains as Mr. Macauley had to steal the goods sent there for them, and as long as they were being dealt with fairly they would deal fairly in return. It was to that end that Colonel Boone had perfected the treaty with them, and they were not the aggressors. Satanta, the great chief of the Kiowas, represented the Indians in this instance.

When this fact became known Mr. Macauley was placed in the guard house at Fort Lyons for dishonesty with the Indians.

When Mr. Macauley found that the Indians were becoming hostile because of his dishonesty, he went to the Stage Company's office at Fort Lyons and proposed to Mr. Lambert to put up a large stone building on the Stage Company's ground, for the purpose of storing goods. Mr. Lambert began to sniff the air at once, he thought he had found a mouse, and he said: "Mr. Macauley, I haven't the money to erect a building of that kind now." Mr. Macauley told him that he would not have to furnish a cent of money, that he, himself, would erect the building, but he wanted it put up under Lambert's name. He told Lambert that he could get the Government teamsters to haul the rock and put up the building, and it wouldn't cost him anything to amount to anything, either. Mr. Lambert told Mr. Macauley that he could not see the advisability of such a building. "But," said Macauley, "there's so much condemned goods, such as flour, meat and other groceries--the flour is wormy--and we can buy them for nearly nothing, and could sell them for a big profit." He told Lambert they could get rich enough to go East in a little while, and live like Princes, such as they were, if shortness of means did not tie them to the Western Plains. Soon their coffers would be filled to overflowing, if they but planted the seeds of his cunning mind, they would fructify with a harvest of plenty, and they would reap a rich reward; for the goods that came in for the Indians were rapidly acc.u.mulating, and at that time, there was already a heavy excess.

Finally after they had reached the front room of the Lambert home, and the conversation had taken on a still more confidential turn, Mr.

Lambert wheeled on his guest, and in tones not meant to inspire the greatest confidence, almost shouted to Macauley, these words: "Do you mean to come here and make a proposition for me to build you a hiding place to put your stolen Indian goods in, over my name and signature?

Now, sir, your proposition would place Bob Lambert in the guard house, while you, the man who steals these goods--you have as much as said that they were sent here for the Indians--you would go free." Bob Lambert was a mad animal when he was mad, and on he went, thundering like a bull who had suddenly beheld a red umbrella: "Macauley, you dog! the goods you are withholding from these Indians are causing trouble along the whole frontier, and it will amount to a b.l.o.o.d.y battle with these ignorant people; but, I say to you, these Indians are not ignorant of the fact that it is you who are stealing their stuff. Nevertheless, the whole white tribe will suffer through your dishonesty. These Indians have a right to protect their rights, but in so doing, they may do depredations in the wrong place." Mr. Macauley tried several times to pacify Mr.

Lambert; to tell him that he had misinterpreted his proposition. He wanted to explain himself further and more fully, but Mr. Lambert would have none of it, and told him to get himself out of his house, away from his premises, and to remain away.

While Mr. Macauley was hesitating, Mr. Lambert drew his pistol and with one word, that sounded like a roar from a mighty lion, said, "Go!" Mr.

Macauley turned to leave, and Lambert yelled after him: "Run, you thief, get up and hurry, or I will fill your legs full of lead;" and Macauley did run.

At this time Major Anthony was the Commanding Officer of Fort Lyons. Mr.

Macauley ran to the Major's office, reaching there greatly excited and in an almost exhausted condition, he demanded Major Anthony to put the chains on Mr. Lambert, and to chain him to the floor. Major Anthony asked him what the matter was. Mr. Macauley began what sounded like a very plausible story of his encounter with Mr. Lambert.

When he stopped to catch his breath, he again ordered Major Anthony to send at once for Lambert, and place him in the guard house for threatening his life.

Major Anthony rang the bell; the sentinel came in. "Mr. Sentinel,"

ordered Major Anthony, "go at once to Mr. Lambert's and tell him I want to see him, immediately." When the sentinel told Mr. Lambert his mission, he prepared at once to go to the Major. While the sentinel was gone for Mr. Lambert, Mr. Macauley attempted to leave the office of Major Anthony before the return of the sentinel and Lambert, but Major Anthony refused to permit his exit, though he had twice attempted to leave before the arrival of Mr. Lambert. Mr. Macauley asked the Major why he could not accept his given word, as correct. But impartial Major Anthony a.s.sured him that to put a man in the guard house without a hearing, would be unfair. He said he would give Mr. Lambert a trial. Mr.

Macauley grew furious, and told the Major that if he wanted to take Lambert's word for this occurrence, instead of his, that he would go, and he arose to leave the room, but Major Anthony restrained him. Major Anthony said: "Now, Mr. Macauley, you sit down and cool off, and remain seated, until the completion of this trial between yourself and Mr.

Lambert." At this juncture, Mr. Lambert and the sentinel appeared in the doorway. Mr. Lambert advanced, with a salute, said: "At your service, Major Anthony, what can I do for you?" Said Major Anthony: "You can tell the cause of this disturbance between yourself and Mr. Macauley. Mr.

Macauley has already made his statement, and I want to hear what you have to say." "Major," said Mr. Lambert, "will you not let Mr. Macauley state the facts to you again, in my presence, regarding this affair?"

Mr. Lambert then drew his pistol out of his scabbard, laid it on the table across from Mr. Macauley, and politely requested Major Anthony to permit Macauley to tell him the exact truth of the matter in controversy, beginning from the time he had entered his premises, with his vile proposition, until the time of his hasty departure, from his house.

Mr. Lambert turned to Macauley with a little quick, nervous jesture, saying: "Macauley, you tell Major Anthony the truth, and if you mince words, and do not tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, I will kill you."

Mr. Macauley called on Major Anthony for protection, but the Major only replied, that he saw no need for protection, that all he had to do was to tell the truth in the matter, and that he would vouch for Mr.

Lambert's peaceableness. "Now," said Major Anthony, "you may proceed with your story. The truth is your best trick, and I must get it off my hands, be quick about it."

Mr. Macauley began the narrative with many a jerk and start, Major Anthony was judge and jury, Mr. Lambert was a quiet spectator, but his wonderful eyes kept the witness on the right track, until he had almost completed his story and attempted to evade part of the conversation.

Lambert turned his commanding eyes upon the culprit, demanding that not one iota of that proposition be left out of his recital. Brought to bay, Macauley had nothing to do, but confess his crime and the proposition made Mr. Lambert, but his nerve had broken loose and he was a whining, puny puppy.

"Now, Mr. Lambert," said Major Anthony, "I am much obliged to you and you can go to your quarters." Major Anthony again rang for the sentinel and told him to bring the sergeant of the guard house to him.

When the sergeant came. Major Anthony turned to Macauley and told him that he was dismissed from the post as agent of the Indian Supplies, and he, himself, would have to be the commissioner until the government appointed some one to supercede him. When the Major turned Macauley over to the Sergeant, he told him to take the "thief" to the guard house and to see to it that he did not escape.

A few days after this episode, Major Anthony notified the Indians to come and receive their annuities, as far as possible, from the remains.

Then he gave the Indians to understand that it was the intention of the government, that they be fairly dealt with, and follow the terms of the treaty made by Colonel A.G. Boone.

That night the Indians had a big celebration, dancing, singing, yelling and horse-racing, and signified that they now had a better feeling toward the white race--that of brother--now that Major Anthony had settled their grievances by removing Mr. Macauley from the commission.

Major Anthony reported Mr. Macauley's conduct to headquarters at Leavenworth, and the Leavenworth authorities came after him, but through the white-was.h.i.+ng of some one, this reprobate went scot free.

After the Chivington Ma.s.sacre on Sand Creek, the War Department was greatly disturbed over the action of the Indians. Colonel Ford, who was stationed at Fort Larned, was ordered to patrol the country on the western boundary of Kansas and eastern Colorado, about half way between the Arkansas River and the North Platte. He started out with 500 fully equipped soldiers and proceeded about 350 miles to the northwest, and without finding signs of Indians, he went into camp.

In the month of October, in the year of 1863, William Poole of Independence, Missouri, pack master of a mule train, discovered a few smokes circling their camp, and told Colonel Ford of his find. Mr. Ford made light of it, but the First Lieutenant of one of the companies said that he was going to take every precaution possible, to protect his valuable horse, and that he would not let it go out to range with the mules.

Mr. Poole tethered all his mules, that is, tied their forefeet about 18 inches apart, so they could walk around and graze, but not run, and placed double guard over the animals.

At two o'clock in the morning, five Indians with Buffalo robes swinging in the air, gave the war whoop and stampeded the soldiers of Colonel Ford, and took every horse, but that belonging to the fastidious Lieutenant. Every soldier nursed his "sore head" and had no consolation, but to tell how slick those "red devils" relieved them of their horses.

When the horses were gone, the soldiers had no further use of their saddles and blankets. Colonel Ford ordered them burned so the Indians could not profit by them. However, this was an error on the part of the Colonel, as will be seen. All the horses and saddles would have been returned in due time. Three weeks after Ford's experience in the Indian country, an old Indian and his squaw came riding into Fort Larned on two of the horses, which they traded off for nuts, candy, sugar and more candy, and were highly pleased over their exchange. They had no use for the large horses because they could not stand the weather as well as their Indian ponies. They grinningly told the storekeeper they would return in "two moons" with more horses.

CHAPTER IX.

The Fort Riley Soldiers Go to Fort Larned to Horse Race With Cheyennes, Comanches and Kiowas.

The Indians are great people for sport and amus.e.m.e.nt and it would be difficult to imagine a more inveterate gambler. Their greatest ambition is to excel in strength and endurance.

Several times as our coaches meandered across the plains, we came upon the lodges of thousands of Indians, where the male population were trying their skill at horse-racing. Even the small boys, many times as many as fifteen or twenty, would be horse-racing and the chiefs would be betting upon their favorites.

For their race tracks, they dug ditches about four feet apart and threw up the sod and dirt between the ditches. The whole tribe then packed the ground in the tracks hard and smooth by riding their horses up and down those tracks to pack the dirt still more firmly. These tracks were generally one and one-eighth miles long. The Indians would then select a horse which they regarded as especially swift and banter the soldiers for a horse race, which the soldiers were quick to accept, if they were lucky enough to get a furlough. These Fort Riley soldiers always brought their best horses to Fort Larned to race against the Indians'