Natrona County, Wyoming - The whole text, 1923 (part 12 of 15)

In late years some who do not fancy the name of "Hell's Half Acre" have attempted to change the name to "Enchanted Land," claiming that an old legend says that in the early days the Indians drove buffalo into this great corral for slaughter and that many flint arrow heads are found in the pits. So far as we are able to learn, "Enchanged Land" is a name for the place that is entirely new to the people who have lived here for many, many years, and the name is also entirely inappropriate. It is too mild, and does not describe the scene as does the "Devil's Kitchen," or "Hell's Half Acre." That flint arrow heads may have been found in the pits and caves gives no foundation for the name "Enchanted Land," for flint arrow heads have been found in thousands of places on the plains, all of which may as appropriately be called the "Enchanted Land." The only thing inappropriate about the present name is that instead if covering one-half an acre of land it covers about 600 times that much, but on the other hand, it may be that an acre covers more territory in the lower regions than it does on this earth, and as there * is no one here who can give any authentic information on the subject, there is no doubt but it will always retain the name of "Hell's Half Acre," regardless of its dimensions, and even though it might sound shocking to some people whose aesthetic taste cannot be appreciated by the people of the middle west.

Many fossils of the prehistoric age have been found in the vicinity of "Hell's Half Acre." During the summer of 1907 Prof. Reed of the Wyoming University unearthed a perfect skull of a calf titanotherium, an animal which became extinct possibly more than a million years before many of the oldest known fossils were created. This is the largest known animal that ever existed. In contrast to the titanotherium is that of a beaver, which was found near by, and which was scarcely larger than that of a modern mouse, but in every other respect the fossil of the beaver's skull was a counterpart of the present-day animal. One of the most important finds in this fossil field by Prof. Reed was the complete skeleton of a horse no larger than that of a fox, every bone of which was present, which indicated beyond a doubt that the equine race originated in this part of the country. A perfect skeleton of a dog of the aligocene tertiary period was also found. This animal was no larger than the average dog of modern times, but was equipped with a much more formidable array of teeth, indicating that it was a ferocious fish eater. All these fossils were mounted by Prof. Reed and placed in the museum of Wyoming University at Laramie, and are considered of great value.

Heavy snows prevail in Central Wyoming nearly every year in the early spring. Between the 20th of March and the 20th of April Natrona county is generally visited by a severe storm. In the early days ranch homes and homestead shacks were not as numerous as they are nowadays and hay and grain were not provided for the range stock as they are now. When a severe storm came up there was no feed for the stock or shelter for the men who happened to be some distance from camp and consequently thousands of sheep and cattle perished and men became bewildered and drifted with the storms and they, too, suffered and many lost their lives.

The first week in February, 1891, we had the hardest storm and coldest weather we ever had at that time of the year. The thermometer registered 40 degrees below zero at one time. The snow drifted and Casper, Glenrock, and Douglas were without train service of any kind for a week. Dealers were out of coal and the stores were very short of flour and other necessaries of life, and the situation became very serious. The loss of stock on the range was appalling.

E. H. Kimball and his daughter, Lizzie, left Douglas one day during the cold weather and they had almost perished and were in a helpless condition by the time they reached a ranch house, after traveling about ten miles. They were taken in and cared for.

E. Erben and G. C. Merrian were out on the range hunting when the storm came up and they experienced a very serious time. They were out during the whole of one night and when they managed to reach Casper they were in a serious condition, their feet being frozen up to their ankles and their fingers badly frost-bitten. A troop of soldiers marched from Newcastle to Fort McKinnie, near Buffalo, during the severe weather and they suffered many hardships. Many of them were compelled to drop out along the route and remain at ranch houses to receive treatment.

Four successive days and nights during the latter part of March, 1894, this part of the state was visited by a heavy fall of snow and a terrific wind storm, when no less than thirty inches of snow fell and the wind drifted it in many places ten and twelve feet deep. Telegraph wires were down and Casper was shut off from news from the outside world. The train that left Casper and the one that left Chadron on Monday met at Lusk, but were compelled to remain there until the following Monday. The loss of sheep and cattle was very heavy. In the blinding storm herders found it almost impossible to remain with their herds and in some instances, large bands of sheep were left without anyone to look after them. Two of Patrick Sullivan's herders walked to Casper from their camp, a distance of twenty-five miles. They suffered greatly from the cold and said their camp was completely under the snowdrifts and nothing was visible of their wagon except the stove pipe. Quite a number of men on the range who were away from their camps became bewildered and perished. Nearly all the stockmen in Casper went out on the range during the middle of the week to assist the herders in carmg for their stock.

During a severe storm the latter part of March, 1895, Noel R. Gascho was with a band of sheep on the open range. The band became unmanageable and drifted with the storm. Gascho went with the sheep, which was the only thing to do. The snow came down in blinding sheets, the cold wind swept over the bleak prairie and hundreds of the sheep were frozen. Gascho said it seemed as though the blood in his veins and the marrow in his bones w^ere frozen. He became numb and sleepy and to keep awake he would stick his legs with a knife blade. About midnight he caught one of the sheep, cut its throat and drank the blood. Then he set fire to the wool on the dead sheep and the greasy wool burned readily. Before daylight, he had burned six sheep after he had cut their throats and drank of their blood. This was all that saved his life.

range. He left Casper on horseback in the morning for one of his sheep camps, but he could not find it and at 4 o'clock in the afternoon started for home. Night overtook him when he was about twelve miles from town, and he said it was so dark that the eye could not penetrate one inch ahead. He struggled and labored with his horse until nearly midnight when he became convinced that he was going in the wrong direction. He concluded to remain where he was until morning. He led his horse back and forth in the shelter of a bank, but he could not keep warm and he was finally compelled to take the saddle blanket from his horse and put it around his shoulders to keep from freezing. In the morning when he found his bearings, he became aware that he was about three miles northwest from the Platte river bridge and that if he had allowed his horse to travel in the direction it was headed in the night it would have brought him safely home. He suflFered only the temporary ill effects from his experience, but has since avoided being caught out on the range in a spring snow storm.

The last week in March, 1897, a terrific windstorm prevailed on Sunday. People considered this an unmistakable warning that the annual blizzard was close at hand and on Monday the snow began to fall and continued steadily until Wednesday night. The snow was accompanied by a strong wind, which piled the snow in deep drifts. When the storm abated, more than thirty inches of snow had fallen and all the roads leading to Casper were blocked and all business in the town was practically suspended. No trains arrived for four days. J. A. J. Stewart, the postmaster at Johnstown, near Independence Rock, left for Casper on Monday morning and reached Bessemer late in the night, but he remained at Bessemer eight days before the roads were opened so that he could come to Casper. The miners on Casper mountain, who were out of provisions, came to town on snowshoes and they reported there was from nine to sixteen feet of snow on the mountain. Considerable stock was lost and the men on the range suffered terribly.

On the 29th of March, 1897, snow commenced to fall and continued without interruption until April 2. On the streets of Casper there was three feet of snow and paths had to be shoveled on the cross walks before the citizens could go from one business house to the other. There was no train service for nearly a week and business was practically at a standstill.

A sheep herder named Neal, working for the Jack Wright outfit, perished on the range, but on account of the deep snow his body could not be found. Another herder, working for Earle and Foster, was exposed to the storm three days and nights and became so exhausted that he lay down in the snow. An Indian found him and carried him to camp, but his hands and feet were badly frozen. Another herder for the same outfit was found in the snow after the storm abated, badly frozen and almost dead from exposure and lack of food. Five herders in Sweetwater county perished in the storm and the loss of stock on the range was very great.

John Wisdom, a herder for Tony Goetz, perished in the Poison Spider country during the snowstorm which prevailed during the first days of April, 1900. From the 7th to the nth of April, 1901, a snowstorm raged throughout the central part of Wyoming. Four feet of snow fell during the four days and there was a great loss of sheep. The roads were blocked for ten days and people who came to Casper from the country made the trip on horseback. On June 19 and 20, 1902, there was a heavy snowfall throughout the state and the thermometer registered a drop of fifty degrees in the two days. There was a great loss of shorn sheep on the range.

Adie C. Irwin of Alcova nearly lost his life in a snowstorm in March, 1903. He left home on the 17th and rode on horseback to Lost Cabin, leaving there on the morning of the i8th for the foot of Garfield mountain, on the north side of the Rattlesnake range. Snow was falling when he left Lost Cabin, and he had a distance of forty miles to travel. Before he had covered half the distance, he became bewildered in the raging storm and blinded by the snow. He kept moving until nightfall and then he dismounted, hobbled his horse and built a sagebrush fire. He slept in the snow until daylight and then, mounting his horse, started out with no idea of the direction in which he was traveling. For three days he and the horse floundered through the snow, which was then more than two feet deep and both man and beast were on the verge of famishing, as neither had eaten anything for three days. The fourth night, the horse slipped its hobbles and left Irwin afoot and alone on the snowy desert, with both feet frozen and fainting from hunger. He staggered on throughout the day and at night built a fire and thawed his frozen feet, but the pain was so great he was unable to endure it when the frost was extracted from them, and he was obliged to let them freeze again before he could stand upon them. On account of huddling so close to the sagebrush fires to keep from freezing to death his clothing was burned full of holes, and his condition was most pitiable. On the sixth day he was found by Joe Sanderson in a semi-delirious condition and more dead than alive, and had he been compelled to remain exposed to the elements one more night there is no doubt but he would have died. He was cared for by Mr. Sanderson until he could be brought to town when it was found necessary to amputate his left leg above the knee.

Snowstorms and extremely cold weather prevailed in Central Wyoming during the first twenty days of March, 1906, and when the storms subsided and the weather moderated somewhat the sheep and cattle that were yet alive on the range were in a very weak condition, and the flockmasters and cattlemen were compelled to haul hay and grain to their herds, for they were not strong enough to wade through the drifts and rustle feed on the range. The snow was fully two feet deep on the level and there were drifts ten to fifteen feet deep. The weather was extremely cold and several days the thermometers registered thirty degrees below zero. Special trains loaded with feed for the stock were sent west over the Wyoming & Northwestern railway, two days in each week and the regular freight train hauled feed every day and unloaded it at all stations between Casper and Wolton. This saved the stockmen from what no doubt would have been the heaviest loss in sheep that had ever occurred in this part of the country. A number of sheep herders became lost in the storms and suffered terribly from the cold, but none in this part of the state lost their lives.

During the months of December, 1909, and January, 1910, there was one continual snowstorm after another until the range was covered in most places with ice and snow from six inches to six feet deep. The cattle and sheep on the range were fed hay and grain, but thousands upon thousands of sheep perished and many of the flockmasters were compelled to go out of the business. A man named Thomas Mahoney, who was herding sheep for John Love, in the vicinity of Wolton, became lost in the storm and wandered over the prairie three days and two nights without food or shelter. Two sheep dogs were with him and every time he sank to the ground exhausted the dogs, who seemed to understand his condition, would arouse him and lead him on. The man and his faithful dogs finally reached Moneta, where he was given shelter and a doctor was sent for, but the man's feet were both frozen and his kidneys and other internal organs were frozen, and he died after suffering for about ten days. Ed. McLatchie, who was herding for J, A. Delfelder in the vicinity of Moneta, also perished in the storm, but his body was not found until the 6th of March, it having been covered under a snow bank.

Eighteen inches of snow fell in Central Wyoming on April 2 and 3, 191 8, and at Rawlins and farther west along the hne of the Union Pacific railroad it was reported that the snow was three feet deep. A great deal of stock on the range was lost and a number of men perished in the storm. Added to the loss of stock caused by the spring snowstorms, the summer of 1918 was phenomenally dry, and the feed on the range was parched and burned from the blistering sun and hot winds; the small creeks and water holes went dry; sheep and cattle suffered from the lack of feed and water and this year went down in history as the "dry year," to be remembered from the loss and suffering of stock equal to the "hard winter" of 1886-7. Many of the cattle and sheep actually starved to death. Shipments were made to market and feeding grounds in other states and by the first of January, 1919, more than forty per cent of all the cattle and sheep in Wyoming had been shipped out, many of them never to be returned. The stock that went to market brought a very small price on account of their poor condition and a great deal of the stock that was shipped to the feeding grounds in other states died in transit because of their starved condition. And then, to add to the suffering and loss of the sixty per cent of the stock that remained in the state, early in October, 1919, severe storms prevailed; the range was covered with snow and ice; there w^as no feed for the stock except the hay and grain that was hauled to them, and the loss was enormous. Storm followed storm and loss followed loss until it seemed that there would be no stock left on the range the following summer. On December 9, 10 and 11 high winds and a blinding snowstorm prevailed and all the trains on the Chicago & Northwestern and Burlington railway lines were blocked; drifts of snow from three to fifteen feet deep and from one-half mile to a mile long were reported on the tracks of the railroads; the temperature had fallen to twenty and twenty-four degrees below zero in the central part of the state and at Riverton it was reported that the thermometer registered fortytwo degrees below; in Casper many of the children were unable to reach the school houses and those that did reach them were dismissed because it was impossible to heat the buildmgs; snow went sweeping and swirling down the streets, carried by the high winds, like great clouds of smoke; signs were blown from the business houses; windows were broken in and but few people ventured outside.

It was realized that a supreme effort must be made if there were to be any stock left on the range, and the Central Wyoming Stock Growers' Protective association, the Wyoming Humane society, and the Wyoming brand commissioners on December 12 issued a call that revived the spirit of the west in the early days of the cattle round-ups, except that in this round-up the work would be exceedingly more perilous, and conditions more hazardous than when the regular spring and fall round-up were made in palmy cattle days. Experienced foremen were appointed and all stockmen having cattle on the range were notified to have their help on hand for the big drive. Round-ups numbering from one to twelve were organized, with the place of beginning and the country to be worked designated for each organization; there were to be from a dozen to twenty men in each round-up. All the cattle found on the range were to be taken to the nearest railroad shipping point, where they were to be claimed by the ow^iers. Stock not claimed was to be shipped with the other stock. A finance committee was appointed to see that all expenses were promptly met and that all stock was fed until shipments were made. The expenses of the round-up were to be prorated among those having stock found on the range. The stockmen felt that this action was necessary to save the state her livestock industry. The cattle were shipped to Texas and other ranges. In thirty days during the summer of 1920 more than 1,000 carloads of these cattle were returned to the state, and a large number were shipped to Kansas and Nebraska and from there they were to be shipped in the fall to the eastern markets, while there were many that were kept on the southern ranges and fattened for market.

From April 17th to the 21st, 1920, there were no trains in or out of Casper on account of the heavy snowstorm which prevailed from Saturday until Monday, and the roads to Salt Creek and other points in the interior were impassable for more than a week, thus causing many of the people in the oil camps to do without meats, eggs, butter and other supplies because of the inability to maintain transportation service to the fields. There was no visible shortage of the supply of provisions in Casper. There was a shortage of coal, however, and from 250 pounds to 500 pounds were allowed each person until the supply could be replenished. A Burlington passenger train was tied up at Wendover for three days and a Northwestern passenger train was stalled at Lusk the same length of time. The tracks were covered with fully five feet of snow at each of these stations. The marooned passengers at Lusk held dances during the evenings in the railroad station and impromptu vaudeville performances were given by the passengers to break the monotony of the long wait.

Thousands of birds were driven into Casper from the mountains and the plains and they were fed by the people of the city. These birds became so numerous on the streets that many of them were killed by being run over by automobiles. The birds were followed by numerous hawks. These hawks existed on the small birds that they could kill, and some of the marksmen of the city retaliated on the hawks by using .22 rifles and pistols on them. After the weather moderated, however, the birds and the hawks disappeared.

The loss to live stock as a result of the three-day storm was estimated at about seven and one-half per cent. Dead sheep and cattle were scattered over the range and along the roadside in great numbers and many others were left in a very weakened condition. This storm occurred fully two weeks later in the season than the heavy storms usually occur, but it was one of the heaviest and most severe storms since the big storm of 1897, which started on March 29 and continued three days without abatement, from which there was a great loss of live stock, and a number of men perished.

On the loth of May, 1922, a heavy snowstorm swept over Wyoming and many of the Rocky Mountain states, paralyzing communication from the rest of the world by the destruction of the telephone and telegraph wires and poles, blocking the railway trains for three days and causing the loss of thousands of sheep and lambs, and cattle and calves. In the central part of the state there was about a foot of snowfall which was preceded for about six hours with a heavy downpour of rain. The storm was not so heavy in the central and western portions of the state, but in the eastern and southern portions there was from eighteen inches to three feet of snowfall, and the destruction to the wires and poles of the telephone and telegraph companies and the loss of stock was much greater than in the central and western parts of the state. More than 1,200 telephones were put out of commission in the city of Casper by the breaking of wires, cables and poles, and about 500 homes were without electric light service on account of the wires and poles being broken down. Eighty-two miles of poles of the Western Union Telegraph company were down between Casper and Chugwater, and there were sixty miles of line down between Wendover and Chugwater, and twentytwo miles of line put out of commission between Casper and Wendover. About the same condition existed on the two railway companies' lines in the central part of the state. It was three days before train service was re-established and forty-eight hours before communication was resumed over the telephone and telegraph wires. The wagon road to Salt Creek, as well as those from the south, west and east, were in an impassable condition for nearly a week; some places in the road it was estimated that the mud was at least four feet deep, and many automobiles, trucks and even wagons were abandoned in the mudholes for a week until the mud dried sufficiently for them to be hauled out. This was the most destructive storm that has ever occurred in the state at this time of the year.

Casper Mountain Cave 385

Most people in Casper have heard of a cave in Casper mountain, which IS located about two miles east from Eadsville, at the bottom of a large gulch, which in the earlier days attracted considerable interest, but very few people have ever seen it. Those who have penetrated Its innermost recesses describe it as being about six feet wide at the entrance and fifteen feet high, making a gradual decline for about fifty yards, some parts of the walls being forty feet high. About seventy-five yards from the entrance there is a wall which at first appears to be the end of the cave, but there is a small hole in the floor of the cavern large enough for a man to get through by crawling on his hands and knees. This small cavity exter s several yards and then a lai^o room is entered, the walls of whi. are of white, hard sandstone, and there is much crystal quartz adhering to the roof and sidewalks. The floor of this large room, which extends more than four hundred feet into the mountain side, is covered with large timbers and driftwood, which has been carried in during the melting of the snows in the spring and the heavy rains that prevail in the summer months. There is a hole at the farther end of this room, leading to another cave, but the timber and debris must be cleared away before one can descend, and the descent must be made by a rope. After searching the bottom, which is down about ten feet, in order to go further, you must again crawl on your hands and knees, then you come to another large room at the far end of which is a small aperture, but it is so small that a man cannot go through, and there his investigations must end.

In order to gain admission to this underground passage, torches and lanterns were used in the early days, but electric lanterns may now be used by the few people who are curious enough to make the trip over the mountains.

Above Alcova several miles is the Grand Canyon of the Platte. Near the eastern end of this wonderful canyon, on the north side, about 500 feet above the turbulent waters, there are the remains of a curious cabin, built entirely from rock. A rock shelf projecting sixteen or eighteen feet forms the roof of the cabin and the sides are built up solid with flat rocks. A hole left in the front wall was used as a door. It is said that cow hides were put over this hole in the winter time to keep out the cold. There is a large fire place in the cabin and a chimney projects through the roof, which is also built from flat rocks. A window, far up in the east wall of the cabin gives it the appearance of a fort. This window commands a perfect view from the east and south and no one could approach within several miles of the place without being seen. The cabin being built from the flat rocks broken away from the sides of the canyon, the little hut would not be noticed until one was almost upon it.

It is said by some old-timers that while the Union Pacific railroad was being built in the early '6o's, half a dozen cattle rustlers made this their hiding place after they had run a bunch of cattle out of the country and sold them to the railroad contractors. Cattlemen, however, finally cornered them in the cabin and what was done with them has never been reported, but the rustlers were never seen after the cattlemen captured them. The cabin was partially destroyed at that time and although it has been more than fifty ye:.rs since the tragedy in the canyon is said to have occurred, no one has ever cared to abide in it since.

Along the roadside on the north fork of Bufi^alo creek, in the Big Horn mountains, eighty-six miles northwest of Casper, is a lonely grave and at the head of this grave is a weather-worn piece of board a foot in length and six inches wide upon which is carved with a pocket knife: "Died June 17, 1904, L. Henderlight." In the summer of 1922, the Boy Scouts of Casper were camped in the beautiful little park which is about a quarter of a mile south of this grave, and they put a wooden cross at the head of the mound. But the details of how the man met his death are known to but a few of the old-time residents of the county. John Henderlite was the man's name, and he was herding sheep for Bunce and Delfelder at the time of his death. Harry Hudson was camp mover for the same firm. Early m the morning, while in the sheep wagon, the two men quarreled and Hudson struck Henderlite over the head three times with a piece of an iron brake handle which had been broken off the wagon. The man's skull was crushed and he fell unconscious to the floor of the wagon. Hudson dragged his victim out of the wagon and laid him on the ground, where he soon died. The sheriff and coroner went from Casper to the scene of the killing and a coroner's jury was impaneled and made an investigation of the tragedy. Hudson claimed that Henderlite attacked him with a knife, and he struck him with the iron in self-defense. There were no witnesses to the sad affair to contradict his statement. One of the men on the coroner's jury favored returning a verdict of self-defense, while two of the members were in favor of returning a verdict of murder against Hudson, on account of the fact that he had told a number of different stories as to how the killing occurred. Hudson was placed under arrest and brought to Casper and lodged in the county jail. At the preliminary hearing there were no witnesses to dispute Hudson's version of the tragedy, and as he produced a large knife which he claimed that Henderlite attacked him with and as his story seemed reasonable, he was given his freedom. He immediately left the country. Henderlite was from Lander where he was known as a law-abiding citizen and his friends claimed that Hudson must have provoked the quarrel, but as there was no one to testify in the dead man's favor, his death has gone unavenged.

Approaching the V - V ranch, owned by Bryant B. Brooks, from the west, about eighteen miles from Casper, in the Big Muddy country to the left of the roadside, is a large lake, which is fed from the flood waters from the mountains in the spring time and there are also numerous springs which assist in keeping the body of water well supplied during the dry season of the year. The lake is a natural basin at the foothills of the mountains. Tradition says that this basin, which is about three miles long and more than half a mile in width, was formerly used as a camping ground by the Indians. In the early '90's a man named Carson, who was passing by the lake, came into Casper, and he was very much excited and told a startling story of having seen the ghost of an Indian chief in a phantom-like canoe, paddle from the shore to the middle of the lake, come to a halt and then suddenly disappear as though swallowed up by the waters. Carson said that he was quietly riding his horse along the roadside which borders the lake, when the horse became frightened and plunged forward. He looked toward the lake where the horse was gazing with apparent fear, and there he saw the apparition above described. The Indian chief was arrayed in full warrior regalia and was visible by means of a peculiar phosphorescent lustre which accompanied him.

This was in the "good old days" before the eighteenth constitutional amendment was enacted, and as Carson was a man who did not usually become excited, and as he was on his way to Casper instead of going from the town, where he might have partaken of something that would have been the cause of him "seeing things," and as he was not given to telling fairy tales, many people at the time were of the opinion that the lake was actually haunted, and that the old chief had appeared, Hke Hamlet's ghost, who had a tale to unfold of a crime that had been committed in the days of his nature, but as there were no Indians at hand, the nature of the crime was not communicated to the pale face.

But whether or not the lake is or has been haunted, it is a sad fact that a number of white men who have since ventured on the lake with a boat for the purpose of hunting ducks, have been drowned on account of the boat capsizing with no apparent reason.

About three miles west from Alcova, along side of a trail leading off from the main road, on a hillside, is a lone grave, which has been there since the memory of man runneth not, and while graves along the roadside in this part of the country are not uncommon, the headstone on this grave, which is about twelve inches wide and eight inches deep, naturally attracts the attention of the passerby, for scratched on the flat stone is this inscription:

Crazy

No name, no date, nothing to tell who or what he was, or how or when he came to his death. "He was crazy"; that is all. It would seem that the people who dug his grave, buried him and placed the stone at the head of his resting place thought that being crazy was the most important information people would care about who happened to pass that way.

Among the members of John C. Fremont's expeditions to the Rocky mountains in 1842-3-5, was the voyageur Basil (Cimineau) Lajeunesse, a man of sterling worth. He was one of the men who ascended Fremont Peak on August 15, 1842. Early in the expedition, when drought and grasshoppers had swept the country, so that scarce a blade of grass was to be seen, and there was not a buffalo, deer or antelope for food in the whole region, the Ogallallah Indians warned Fremont not to proceed, lest he should starve, and Fremont put it to his men whether they should turn back, but not a man flinched from the undertaking. "We'll eat the mules," said Basil Lajeunesse. They pushed forward, and although they suffered hardships and privations, they did not eat the mules on this expedition, but they lived on half rations. On the second expedition, in 1843, however, they did eat their mules, as was the fortune of many western travelers in that year and other years to follow. The name Cimineau endures in Wyoming in the Seminoe mountains. The old settlers who remembered Lajeunesse said that the mountains were called Seminoe to perpetuate the name of one of the bravest and truest pioneers of Wyoming. By some of the modern map makers the name of this range of mountains has been corrupted into ''Seminole," but there is no "1" used in the spelling, and the correct pronunciation is Seminoe, or Cimineau.

Lajeunesse did not return with Fremont to the states, but took up his abode in the Sweetwater country, where he lived for many years. This pioneer was decended from a numerous family of hunters, trappers and traders. Gabriel Lajeunesse, his uncle, tradition says, was the hero of Longfellow's "Evangeline." Lajeunesse and his brother Francois were familiar with the mountains, streams and valleys in every part of Wyoming. In 1858 he established a trading post on the Overland route above Devil's Gate, about one hundred yards south of where Tom Sun's ranch house is now located. He traded with the Indians and supplied emigrants who passed through the country. His family lived on a ranch where the Ferris postoffice is situated and it was there his children grew up. In 1862 he started to make a trip to Deer Creek for the purpose of trading with the Sioux Indians. With him were two men and fifteen pack animals, loaded with goods. It is said by some that on the way the party was attacked by the Indians and Lajeunesse was killed and all his goods were carried away and his mules were also driven off, but others claim that he was murdered and his goods carried away by the two men who were in his employ. He was married to a Sioux woman and a number of children were born to them. His ending cannot be more appropriately expressed than by quoting the last lines from that sad but beautiful poem of Longfellow's "Evangeline":

THE first American to enter what is now Wyoming was John Colter, a trapper and adventurer from Saint Louis. He discovered Yellowstone Park in 1807, but he has received but little credit for it, probably because his fellow-trappers considered his accounts as merely the yarns of one of their own kind and it is doubtful whether they believed them. When he told his story to historians and explorers back in Saint Louis, he was not taken seriously. This may have been because his tales had to compete with those of other trappers and adventurers in the thrill of stirring Indian fights and the surpassing grandeur of places visited. Even the scientist, John Bradbury, who knew Colter and wrote of his exploits, failed to investigate Colter's wonderland, Yellowstone Park. H. M. Brackenridge, who had talked with Colter about his travels, spoke in his writings of the low pass across the mountains that Colter had discovered, but ignored entirely the discoveries made at the head of the Yellowstone.

Colter was a private soldier in the Lewis and Clark expedition in 1804-6. When the party reached Mandan, about fifty miles above where Bismarck, North Dakota, now stands, on their return from the far northwest, Colter asked for his discharge, saying that he wished to join some trappers who were going back north and west. He received the discharge and, after being outfitted, returned to the wilderness. The party worked together from August, 1806, until the following spring. Again Colter was on his way back to civilization and again he turned back. This time it was in the employ of Manuel Lisa, a Mexican, whom he met at the mouth of the Platte. Lisa hired a large number of trappers, took them to the north and then spread them over the country. The party journeyed to the mouth of the Big Horn. From this point, Lisa sent Colter out to inform the other bands of Indians that he was in their country and wished to trade with them.

With only a pack of thirty pounds, a gun, and some ammunition. Colter set out on his perilous mission. It is probable that he had Indian guides, but he traveled directly from the Wind river to Pierre's Hole, crossing the Wind river and Teton mountains by the Union or Two-gwo-tee passes. After traveling 500 miles, he found the Crows. While he was with them, they were attacked by a party of Blackfeet and in the fight it was necessary for Colter to ally himself with the Crows. The Blackfeet w^ere defeated, but not before they had discerned the presence of a white man among their opponents. Colter received a wound in the leg in this fight, but it did not hinder his travels and he went back to Lisa's fort, a trip of several hundred miles, without any assistance whatever. He was alone, having parted from his friends, the Crows, who did not wish to remain in the country long enough to suflTer retaliations at the hands of the Blackfeet. Colter afterwards described this trip to General Clark, who traced it on his map and named it "Colter's Route in 1807." His course was as directly northeast as the country would permit. He cut through the dense pine forests that cover the northern Tetons and trailed diagonally across what is now Yellowstone Park. Chittenden^ says, "This very remarkable achievement - remarkable in its unexpected results in geographical discovery - deserves to be classed among the most celebrated performances in the history of American exploration. Colter was the first explorer of the valley of the Big Horn river; the first to cross the passes at the head of Wind river and see the headwaters of the Colorado of the West; the first to see the Teton mountains, Jackson Hole, Pierre's Hole, and the sources of the Snake (Green) river; and most important of all, the first to pass through that singular region which has since become known throughout the world as the Yellowstone Wonderland. He also saw the immense tar spring at the forks of the Stinkingwater river, a spot which came to bear the name of 'Colter's Hell.'"

It would seem that by this time, Colter had had enough adventure for one man's life time, but a still more thrilling episode was waiting for him. The next spring (1808), he went to the Three Forks of the Missouri to trap accompanied by a man named Potts, who had been with him on the Lewis and Clark expedition. One day while Colter and Potts were working with their traps, a band of Indians came upon them. At first the Indians were not inclined to be hostile, but in a few minutes they became involved in an altercation which resulted in a fight in which Potts was killed and Colter taken prisoner. Bradbury- relates that he saw Colter in May, 1810, and received a first-hand account of this wild adventure:

"This man came to Saint Louis in May, 1810, in a small canoe, from the headwaters of the Missouri, a distance of three thousand miles, which he traversed in thirty days. I saw him on his arrival, and received from him an account of his adventures after he had separated from Lewis and Clark's party; one of these, from its singularity, I shall relate. On the arrival of the party at the headwaters of the Missouri, Colter, observing an appearance of abundance of beaver there, got permission to remain and hunt for some time, which he did in company with a man by the name of Dixon, who had traversed the immense tract of country from Saint Louis to the headwaters of the Missouri alone.

"Soon after he separated from Dixon, and trapped in company with a hunter named Potts; and aware of the hostility of the Blackfeet Indians, one of whom had been killed by Lew^is, they set their traps at night, and took them up early in the morning, remaining concealed during the day. They were examining their traps early one morning, in a creek about six miles from that branch of the Missouri called Jefferson's Fork, and were ascending in a canoe, when they suddenly heard a great noise, resembling the trampling of animals; but they could not ascertain the fact, as the high, perpendicular banks on each side of the river impeded their view. Colter immediately pronounced it to be occasioned by Indians, and advised an instant retreat; but was accused of cowardice by Potts, who insisted that the noise w^as caused by buffaloes, and they proceeded on. In a few minutes afterwards their doubts were removed by a party of Indians making their appearance on both sides of the creek, to the number of five or six hundred, who beckoned them to come ashore. As retreat was now impossible. Colter turned the head of the canoe to the shore; and at the moment of its touching, an Indian seized the rifle belonging to Potts; but Colter, who was a remarkably strong man, immediately retook it, and handed it to Potts, w^ho remained in the canoe, and on receiving it pushed off into the river. He had scarcely quitted the shore when an arrow was shot at him, and he cried out, 'Colter, I am wounded.' Colter remonstrated with him on the folly of attempting to escape, and urged him to come ashore. Instead of complying, he instantly leveled his rifle at an Indian, and shot him dead on the spot. This conduct, situated as he was, may appear to have been an act of madness; but it was doubtless the effect of sudden and sound reasoning; for if taken alive, he must have expected to be tortured to death, according to their custom. He was instantly pierced with arrows so numerous that, to use the language of Colter, 'he was made a riddle of.'

"They now seized Colter, stripped him entirely naked, and began to consult on the manner in which he should be put to death. They were first inclined to set him up as a mark to shoot at; but the chief interfered, and seizing him by the shoulder, asked him if he could run fast. Colter, who had been some time amongst the Kee- kat-sa, or Crow Indians, had in a considerable degree acquired the Blackfoot language, and was also well acquainted with Indian customs. He knew that he had now to run for his life, with the dreadful odds of five or six hundred against him, and those armed Indians; therefore he cunningly replied that he was a very bad runner, although he was considered by the hunters as remarkably swift. The chief now commanded the party to remain stationar}^, and released him, bidding him to save himself if he could. At that instant the horrid war whoop sounded in the ears of poor Colter, who, urged with the hope of preserving life, ran with a speed at which he was himself surprised. He proceeded toward the Jefferson Fork, having to traverse a plain six miles in breadth, abounding with prickly pear, on which he was every instant treading with his naked feet. He ran nearly half way across the plain before he ventured to look over his shoulder, when he perceived that the Indians were very much scattered, and that he had gained ground to a considerable distance from the main body; but one Indian, who carried a spear, was much before all the rest, and not more than a hundred yards from him. A faint gleam of hope now cheered the heart of Colter; he derived confidence from the belief that escape was within the bounds of possibility; but that confidence was nearly fatal to him, for he exerted himself to such a degree that the blood gushed from his nostrils, and soon almost covered the fore part of his body.

"He had now arrived within a mile of the river, when he distinctly heard the appalling sound of footsteps behind him, and every instant expected to feel the spear of his pursuer. Again he turned his head, and saw the savage not twenty yards from him. Determined if possible to avoid the expected blow, he suddenly stopped, turned round, and spread out his arms. The Indian, surprised by the suddenness of the action, and perhaps of the bloody appearance of Colter, also attempted to stop; but exhausted with running, he fell whilst endeavoring to throw his spear, which stuck in the ground and broke in his hand. Colter instantly snatched up the pointed part, with which he pinned him to the earth, and then continued his flight. The foremost of the Indians, on arriving at the place, stopped till others came up to join them, when they set up a hideous yell. Every moment of this time was improved by Colter, who, although fainting and exhausted, succeeded in gaining the skirting of the Cottonwood trees, on the borders of the fork, through which he ran and plunged into the river. Fortunately for him, a little below this place there was an island, against the upper point of which a raft of drift timber had lodged. He dived under the raft, and after several efforts, got his head above water amongst the trunks of trees, covered over with smaller wood to the depth of several feet. Scarcely had he secured himself when the Indians arrived on the river, screeching and yelling, as Colter expressed it, 'like so many devils.' They were frequently on the raft during the day, and were seen through the chinks by Colter, who was congratulating himself on his escape, until the idea arose that they might set the raft on fire.

"In horrible suspense he remained until night, when hearing no more of the Indians, he dived from under the raft, and swam silently down the river to a considerable distance, when he landed, and traveled all night. Although happy in having escaped from the Indians, his situation was still dreadful; he was completely naked, under a burning sun; the soles of his feet were entirely filled with the thorns of the prickly pear; he was hungry, and had no means of killing game, although he saw abundance around him, and was at least seven days' journey from Lisa's fort, on the Big Horn branch of the Roche Jaune river. These were circumstances under which almost any man but an American hunter would have despaired. He arrived at the fort in seven days, having subsisted on a root much esteemed by the Indians of the Missouri, now known by naturalists as psoralea esculenta."

Colter remained in this part of the country for another year trapping and trading with the Indians. He returned to Saint Louis in May, 1810, and in 181 1 was married and gave up his wandering habits. Historians have not traced his life further and it is supposed his later life was spent quietly in the Missouri valley.

It is to be deplored that this resourceful and courageous man was not sent out with the proper scientific equipment to give authenticity to his discoveries. Had he been given the proper backing, he would now rank with Lewis and Clark, Zebulon Pike, and John C. Fremont. It is to be hoped that sometime a monument will be erected to his memory in Yellowstone Park.

IN the summer of 1865, those who were traveling across the western plains found that their journey was a hard one, not only on account of the hot, dry winds and the wide stretches of sandy and rocky desolation, but on account of the hostilities of the Indians. Almost every station along the Trail was raided and the Indians made their presence felt all along the telegraph line, which was guarded by troops in small detachments. About the middle of July there was a noticeable movement of the Indians east from the Sweetwater valley and more of them were traveling west from Fort Laramie.

Platte Bridge was about one and one-half miles above the site of Casper and was used as a crossing by emigrants bound for California and Oregon over the Trail. A post had been established there not only to care for the telegraph line, but to protect the travelers from the periodical outbreaks of the Indians. It was nearly sixty miles east of Sweetwater and over a hundred miles west of Fort Laramie, and by the 24th of July the Indians had collected in large numbers across the river from the post. Three or four hundred of them came over the river on the 25th and a fight ensued in which a Cheyenne chief was killed and scalped, and on the 26th occurred a desperate and bloody battle in which Caspar W. Collins was killed. Collins was not attached to the fort, but was returning to his station at Sweetwater from Fort Laramie where he had just been commissioned a first lieutenant.

Major Anderson, in command of the station, was organizing a party to go out to bring in a wagon train bound for the fort from Sweetwater and Lieutenant Collins asked to be allowed to lead the party. He was only a boy and the men at the fort tried to dissuade him from going, but he was finally permitted to go. This was courage, but before the day was done he distinguished himself by an act of rare heroism which cost his life. When the little rescue party had gone a short way from the fort, they found that there were hundreds of Indians waiting for them. After putting up a game resistance, they tried to return to the fort. Lieutenant Collins saw one of his men shot from his horse and went to pick him up. This action drew the fire of the Indians and the attack frightened his horse so that it shied and ran. When they found the poor boy's body the next day, it contained twenty-four arrows. Besides, his mouth had been burned by powder, which was one of the brutalities often inflicted by the noble redskins upon their victims.

"The military post situated at Platte Bridge, between Deer and Rock creeks, on the Platte river, will be hereafter known as Fort Caspar, in honor of Lieutenant Caspar Collins, nth Ohio Cavalry, who lost his life while gallantly attacking a superior force of Indians at that place."

Caspar W. Collins was born at Hillsboro, Ohio, September 30, 1844. He was the son of Lieutenant-Colonel William O. Collins of the nth Ohio Cavalry. Fort Collins, Colorado, was named in his honor. Caspar moved with his father to Wyoming in 1862, his father being assigned to the station at Fort Laramie.

Colonel W. W. Denison, adjutant-general of the state of Kansas for many years, and a private in the ranks of Company I, nth Kansas Cavalry, was stationed at Platte River Bridge in July, 1865, when the battle of Platte Bridge was fought. Colonel Denison visited Casper in September, 191 8, and while here gave the following version of the battle, which was taken from the diary of Lieutenant Y. Drew, also of the nth Kansas Cavalry:

"Old Platte Bridge military post was located on the south side of the North Platte river, about 130 miles west of Fort Laramie. The station was a stockade, inside of which were accommodations for a garrison of about 100 men. About fifty rods northwest from the station was the bridge, which was about 600 feet long. Nearly one-half mile west of the bridge, on the north side of the river, there was a growth of willows, forming quite a screen. Nearly the same distance east, on the north side of the river, a deep gulch came down from the north to the river. After crossing the bridge the road takes a northwest course over the bottom land up to the bluff, along the edge of which it runs for a mile or two in plain sight of the river and station. The telegraph line runs along on the side of the road. The country north of the road is covered with sand hills and deep ravines. At the time of the attack the place was garrisoned by Company I, of the nth Kansas cavalry, two men of the nth Ohio, and about twelve of the United States Infantry - rebel prisoners who enlisted in the United States service to fight Indians in preference to staying in the military prisons. The headquarters of the nth Kansas Regiment were also at the station, making about no men, all under the command of Major M. Anderson of the nth Kansas. Of these about seventy or eighty had guns, the rest being armed with revolvers only. Company I was armed with the Smith breech loading carbines. The nth Ohio boys had the Spencer repeating rifle, and the United States infantry - 'Galvanized Troops,' as the boys called them, had the Springfield musket.

"Just after dinner on the 25th of July, some one called out 'Indians, Indians!' and all hands seizing their arms, ran out to see where they were, their number, etc. On the north side of the river about fifteen or twenty Indians on horseback were moving leisurely along. In a few minutes about a dozen men were mounted and crossing the bridge, commenced skirmishing with the enemy. As fast as our men moved on, the Indians fell back, until our men had gone about three miles from the bridge. All this time the Indians were increasing in numbers until there were about forty in plain sight. Our boys had been using their carbines to good effect, and had struck several Indians on their ponies,without any particular loss or damage on our side. At this time an order was received from the station for the men to come back, as the Indians were showing themselves on the south side of the river, east of the station. As our men fell back toward the bridge, Indians kept coming out of the ravine until there were about fifty in sight, showing that their maneuvering had been for the purpose of luring our men out as far away from all support as possible then to wipe them out by superior numbers. Our men reached the station without any loss. On the south side of the river the boys were having about the same experience as their comrades on the north side, the Indians falling back as they were charged and gradually increasing in numbers. In one of their charges the boys shot one of the chiefs of the Cheyennes through the bowels. He threw his arms over the neck of his pony, which wheeled to the left and went off into a thicket of brush, where the chief fell off. At this time the Indians charged desperately on our men to drive them back. But at this juncture a reinforcement of about a dozen came from the station, and the Indians were repulsed. Their intention had been to hold our men back long enough to give them an opportunity to carry off their fallen chief. Two of the boys rode into the brush to find the chief, and found him lying apparently dead. One man jumped off his horse and stabbed him about the heart. He did not give the least sign of life. Then he commenced to scalp him. As soon as the knife touched his head the Indian commenced to beg, when another man shot him through the brain. The Indian belief is that if a warrior loses his scalp he cannot go to the 'Happy Hunting Grounds.' They will lose their lives without the least sign of feeling, but they want to save their scalps. The boys took the chief's arms and a buckskin jacket that he had on. The jacket was fringed with about thirty-five different kinds of hair - white men's, women's, children's, Indians' and squaws' - which he had taken at different times in his battles and forages.

"A word right here in regard to the action of the men in stabbing and shooting the wounded Indians. About ten days before this the Indians had captured one of our men and had tortured and mangled him in a horrible manner. Our boys swore that if ever they got hold of an Indian they would cut him all to pieces, and they did as stated.

"The fighting on the 25th of July 1865, at Platte Bridge had resulted in the killing and wounding of several of the Indians, with but very little damage on our side. Several of our men had received slight wounds, but every one reported for duty on the return to the stockade that evening, and all hands felt elated over the action.

"On making an inspection that evening of the arms and ammunition it was found that there were less than twenty rounds to the man, for the Smith carbines, and but very little more for the other arms. Owing to the oversight or negligence of some one whose business it was to attend to the ordnance supplies, there had not been any cartridges for the Smith carbines sent out on the plains, only what the nth Kansas Cavalry had on hand at the time of their departure from Fort Riley, in the preceding winter. Requisitions had been made on the ordnance officials at Fort Laramie for a supply without success, and I presume he sent our requisition to Fort Leavenworth, for a few days before we had been notified by telegraph that supplies had been received, and that we send an escort to Fort Laramie with a requisition and we would be provided for, and at this time Sergeant H. Todd, Corporal W, H. Smith, with some others were on the way from Fort Laramie with commissary and ordnance supplies. But that did not help us in the present emergency. Some of the boys commenced running bullets and making cartridges. Private James E. Bush being one I remember as being very proficient in that business.

" During the night an alarm was given by the sound of horses crossing the bridge, but on being challenged we were agreeably surprised to find that it was caused by five or six of Company G, nth Ohio Cavalry, under the command of Lieutenant Bretney of the same company from Sweetwater station, about fifty miles west of Platte Bridge. They reported leaving Sweetwater on the preceding morning in company with three wagons and twenty-five men of the nth Kansas under command of Sergeant Custard of Company H. The train with its escort had halted about eighteen or twenty miles from the bridge and proposed coming as soon as possible the next day. They had seen no signs of Indians either while with the train or since leaving it, and were surprised to find that they had not been attacked after they heard about the fighting during the afternoon.

"The next morning as soon as we could distinguish objects we scanned the surrounding country to see if we could find any of our last evening's opponents. We did not make out any on our side of the river, but on the north side there were some moving about and others squatted on the hills. Altogether there seemed to be about ninety in sight, just about the number we had been fighting the day before. They looked as though they were out of a job and did not know just where to find one. We breakfasted, and then Major Anderson ordered Lieutenant Collins, of the nth Ohio Cavalry to take command of a detail of twenty-five men and reinforce the train so as to prevent their being surprised. Lieutenant Collins had been at Fort Laramie and was on his way back to his command at Sweetwater, and had reached the Platte bridge about three days before with an escort of four or five men from Company K, nth Kansas Cavalry, from Deer Creek, the ne.xt station east of us about thirty miles. Lieutenant Collins had been out on the plains with his regiment two or three years. He was a brave young fellow and was considered to be pretty well posted in the Indian tactics.

"The detail moved out in fine spirits, crossed the bridge and then rode leisurely over the bottom land up on the bluff. Quite a number of the boys had gone on foot over the bridge at the same time with the detail, and others were straggling over. Among others Lieutenant Bretney of the nth Ohio with about a dozen men had gone straight north up on the bluff and were waiting to see what action the Indians would take with the detail. Strict orders had been given by Major Anderson that not a shot was to be fired by our men without it was actually necessary, on account of the scarcity of ammunition. On reaching the top of the bluff two Indians were seen by the detail up the telegraph poles a little over a quarter of a mile away cutting the telegraph wire. As soon as they saw our men they slid down the poles, mounted their ponies, and started for the back country as fast as their ponies would take them. Their ponies appeared to be very lame and they did not make much headway. It looked like a soft snap to take them in and Lieutenant Collins ordered the boys to go for them before the Indians could reach their friends. This charge of course took them off the road and away from the sight of the river. The instant the last man had disappeared from view behind the screen of willows west of the bridge about 400 Cheyennes on horseback appeared and with loud yells charged over the bottom lands, and up the bluff in the direction in which our men had gone. The instant these Indians reached the top of the bluff, from behind every sandhill and out of every hollow Indians appeared and all with the one object of charging on the detail and annihilating them before they could get back to the bridge and friends. As soon as the detail realized the situation they retraced their steps with all possible speed, but it was not more than a couple of minutes before the Indians were all around them as thick as bees. In fact, so many of them were on all sides that they did not dare to use their firearms or bows and arrows for fear of shooting their own men, but they used their lances, tomahawks and sabers, and even tried to pull the boys off their horses by main force. The boys kept together in two ranks, discharging their carbines with deadly effect into the crowd on right and left; then, not having time to reload, took their revolvers and kept up the shooting. A boy of about seventeen belonging to Company I of the nth Kansas, had what we called a "nuley" or "pepper box" revolver, the hammer being on the lower side of the weapon, and by pulling on the trigger, the hammer would raise, the piece revolve to the next charge and the hammer fall on the cap and discharge it. A big Indian struck the boy on the head with his spear, trying to stun him, but the horses were moving so rapidly it did not hurt him much. The boy pointed his " pepper box" at the Indian; the Indian with a sardonic grin on his swarthy features said "Ugh! no good!" and tried to grab the boy's arm and pull him off, but he reckoned without his host. Just at that instant the revolver went off and shot Mr. Indian through the breast. His grin changed to a look of painful astonishment as he fell forward upon his pony's neck and wheeled out of the fight.

"It did not take long for the detail to reach the edge of the bluff and as soon as they got there the Indians on their right and left wheeled out of the way and from the rear they poured out such a volley from their guns and revolvers that for a little while it reminded me of Wilson Creek, Missouri, or Prairie Grove, Arkansas, battlefield. But our boys were going rapidly down hill, and the Indians in their excitement fired so high that they hurt our men but very little, but did considerable harm to a lot of Sioux Indians who were charging to take up the bridge. Lieutenant Caspar W. Collins, Adam Culp, George W. McDonald, Sebastian Nehring, and George Camp were killed in this fight and nearly all the balance were more or less wounded, though none mortally. The escape of any was almost miraculous.

"As soon as the Cheyennes came out of their ambush all the men on or near the bridge had run as fast as they could to help their comrades that they knew would soon be striving to get back to the station. They got about halfway over the bottom land toward the hill, and the Indians seeing the footmen coming were deterred from pursuing them any further.

"Lieutenant Bretney and the party with him, as soon as they saw the Cheyennes charge, turned from the bluff and ran to the bridge as fast as they could and they were just in time. From the deep gulch east of the bridge about 500 Sioux had been in ambush and as soon as the Cheyennes reached the top of the bluff they came charging out to take the bridge, but seeing Bretney with the men that were with him, and some reinforcements that came over the bridge pouring in the shots so lively from their carbines and revolvers and the other Indians, in firing so high when shooting at our men coming over the bluff, had the Sioux in exact range and hit a good many, making it so hot for them that they could not stand the pressure, but turned tail and fell back to the gulch again, just about as fast as they came out of it. If these Sioux Indians had succeeded in their object of taking the bridge, they would probably have killed the balance of Collins' party and fifteen or twenty others who were on foot on the bottom land going to their relief, and then they very likely would have taken the station also.

"As soon as the Sioux were driven back from the bridge, there was a cessation of the fighting, all of our men who were unhurt gathering at or near the bridge to defend it, if the Indians should make any further attempt to take it, the wounded men going over to the station to have their wounds dressed and such other care as they required.

"The Indians were moving about on the bluff where the fighting had been going on with the lieutenant's party, torturing our men who had fallen, if there were any life left in them, and if dead, scalping and mangling their bodies in every conceivable manner. One of our men had fallen on the edge of the bluff just as the boys were coming down the hill, fully a thousand yards away from the bridge. An Indian rode up to his body and commenced shooting arrows into him. After firing four or five times, the Indian dismounted and took his tomahawk and commenced to hack him with it. The boys at the bridge were very much excited over it and some of them wanted to rush up there to save the body from further mutilation, but as under the circumstances that would have resulted in the killing and wounding of several more of our men without doing us any good, they were forbidden to undertake it. One of the boys put his gun to his shoulder and fired at the Indian. The report did not seem to disturb his equanimity in the least. Hank Lord said: " I believe I will try a whack at him," and elevating the hind sight of his carbine to 1,000 yards, took deliberate aim and fired. The Indian had his hatchet raised at the time and was just about ready to strike it into the head of the dead soldier, but the bullet was too quick for him, and struck him in some vital part, for the hatchet dropped from his hand and he fell over on the ground. Pretty soon he managed to stagger to his feet again and succeeded in getting onto his pony and started away, but he was badly hurt and swayed from side to side on his horse and was just about to fall off again, when two other Indians noticing his condition rode up, one on each side, and supported him off the field.

"Very soon after this we heard a good deal of loud talking among the Indians who were gathered together in a large body on the bluff, about three-fourths of a mile from us. They seemed very much excited and we expected they were making arrangements to make another charge on the bridge, and we prepared ourselves for the onset, feeling very anxious as to what the result would be, but determined if we should be overcome by the overwhelming numbers of the enemy, to sell outlives as dearly as. possible.

"At this time a half-breed Snake Indian, who lived in a tepee, or tent, between the station and the bridge, and who had crawled up to the bluff to find out what the tribes were, their numbers, etc., returned and reported that the Sioux and Cheyennes were having a big quarrel among themselves, the Cheyennes were charging the Sioux with being great cowards for not taking the bridge when they attempted it, and thus carrying out the part of the program assigned to them, and the Sioux, retaliating on the Cheyennes, by charging them with shooting a great many of their warriors when they fired down the hill at Lieutenant Collins' retreating party. The half-breed stated that it might have the effect of breaking up the whole party, as each tribe declared they would not coalesce with the other in the future, and in fact were just about ready to turn their weapons upon each other. The half-breed's report relieved our anxiety, and we would have been very glad to have seen them commence hostilities against each other. It would have been a clear case of "dog eat dog," and we would have agreed to act in an impartial manner and not aid either side, if they had consulted us in regard to it.

"For about an hour there were no new developments, except that the Indians by one means or another endeavored to decoy some of us away from the bridge. One Indian on horseback moved along a little beyond the edge of the bluff, leading the horse Lieutenant Collins had ridden. The gray acted very unwilling to be led and pulled back. Two other Indians rode up to him and commenced to whip him but he only curveted about, and did not get ahead very fast. Some of the boys took a shot at the Indians, but the instant the flash from the gun was seen, the Indians would lean over on the opposite side of their horses and all that could be seen was the hand grasping the mane, and the foot over the back. The instant the shot had passed by, the Indians would straighten up again. The shots struck the horses once or twice, but we had no ammunition to spare for that kind of business, and orders were given to cease firing except in case of an attack. As soon as the Indians found they could not draw us out that way, they commenced to call us all the bad names they could think of, using language they had picked up from among the whites previous to the breaking out of the war, or had learned from the renegade whites among them.

"Just at this time one of the boys sang out: "There comes the train," and sure enough, there it was in sight coming over the hill about four miles from the station.

"The Indians had perceived it about the same time and in a minute every one of them was urging his pony at its fastest toward the devoted train. There was a small howitzer at the station and a few rounds of ammunition for it. The fuse was cut for for about three seconds and the piece aimed at the largest body of Indians and discharged, but the shell had not left the piece more than one second before it exploded in the air, doing no damage to any one. Another shell was put in with a longer fuse, but It did not make any difference, as it exploded about the same as did the other. All the good that was accomplished by discharging the howitzer was to warn the party with the train that there was trouble ahead, and give them a chance to prepare for it. We noticed that the train moved a good dead faster for a few minutes, but the advance of the Indians soon appeared. Sergeant Custard had sent five of his escort about a fourth of a mile ahead of the rest as an advance guard. Quite a body of the Indians came suddenly up a ravine between the advance and the main party. Corporal James Shrader, in charge of the advance, at first attempted to get back to the train, but seeing the large force he had to contend with and more coming every second, ordered his men to turn to the right and gallop as fast as possible to the river which was about onefourth of a mile south of them. Some of the Indians pursued. But the boys fought them back to the best of their ability. Just as they reached the river one of the soldiers, Edwin Summers, fell, shot through the heart. The remainder of the party plunged into the river. When they got about four rods from the other side another of the soldiers, James Ballew, was shot and fell off his horse into the river. The others got safely across and headed towards the station. Quite a number of Indians had been concealed on the south side of the river, probably in ambush waiting for some party to go out on that side to reconnoiter, or else to seize a favorable moment and rush in and surprise the station, but as soon as the train appeared they came out of their holes and made for the train, most of them crossing the river below the station, but fifteen or twenty going south of the station towards the train. When the three men escaping across the river had got about halfway to the station they struck the advance of the Indians on the south side. There were only four or five of them and the boys shot two before the others came in sight, and then the boys turning their horses towards the mountains in the southeast rode as rapidly as possible until they came to a deep ravine with some brush on the banks. As soon as they reached that they left their horses and then wound their way among the brush down the ravine which ran in the direction of the station. The Indians went toward the train, where, I presume, they thought there would be some plunder to be divided. After the three boys had worked down the ravine about a half a mile they stopped to reconnoiter a little, the corporal crawling up to the edge of the ravine and raising his head to look out on the surrounding country. Just the instant his head was exposed a bullet ploughed along the top of his head just close enough to stun him for a minute or two. He dropped and the other boys pulled him back and bathed his head and soon restored him to consciousness. They concluded to move a little farther down the ravine and then reconnoiter again. The next time they looked out they could not see any Indians on that side of the river except two or three who were standing on as many points of ground, about three-fourths a mile away, apparently on guard. They then looked on the north side and about a half mile was another deep ravine that ran down to the river within half a mile of the station. They concluded to make a run for the station, and it did not take them long to reach the ravine. No more Indians had appeared in sight and they began to feel safe. While they were running to the last ravine some of us had noticed them, and the instant we realized what it meant about fifteen or twenty of us started on foot to meet them and help them if necessary. Just about the same time fifteen or twenty Indians came out of the ravine that the boys had been concealed in first and came charging out towards the ravine that the boys had gone into. We all ran as fast as we could calling to the boys to work down the ravine toward us as fast as possible. Pretty soon the boys came out of the ravine and ran as fast as possible to us. They had got just about halfway when the Indians made their appearance. But we were close enough to reach them with our guns, and after having fired a few shots they fell back toward the train. The three men proved to be a corporal and two privates, James Shrader, Bryam Swaim, and Henry C. Smith, from Company D, nth Kansas Cavalry, and they were all that escaped from the train, and it was a very narrow chance for them. All that saved them was the desire of the Indians to be at the plundering of the train and their good sense in abandoning their horses at the time they did.

"At the time the party sallied from the station to assist the three men escaping from the train about a dozen mounted men started from the station and crossed the bridge and went on to the bluff where the fight had been with Collins' party, to bring in the bodies of the fallen soldiers. They found all the bodies mangled in a shocking manner, the "noble redmen" taking a fiendish delight in mutilating the dead bodies of their fallen foes in a way too horrible to describe. Near one of the bodies a piece of paper was lying, which one of the men picked up. From its appearance it was a page torn out of a diary or account book. It was written about as follows: 'I was taken prisoner about seven months ago from Labonte station. You must be careful or you will all be killed. There are between 3,000 and 4,000 Indians here and about another thousand are expected here in a day or two. They belong to the Cheyennes, Sioux, and Arapahoes, with a few Comanches and Blackfeet. You killed one of the principal chiefs of the Cheyennes yesterday, and they swear they will have a terrible revenge on you for it. Their intention is to clean out all the stations on this road and then go on to Fort Collins road and clean that out. I shall escape them if I can.'

" I do not remember the name signed to it, but it was evidently some person that was with the Indians and had a friendly feeling toward us. Some of the nth Ohio men thought it was a man that had belonged to one of the companies of the nth Ohio and was supposed to have deserted at the time he mentioned from Labonte station. A great many of the nth Ohio Cavalry had been recruited from the rebel soldiers that had gone into Ohio on the celebrated 'Morgan raid,' and after their capture preferred enlisting in the United States service to fight Indians in the place of remaining in the military prisons of the North until the war should end or until they would be exchanged. Most of them made good, faithful soldiers; but some of them were exceptionally hard cases and deserted and joined the Indians and helped them in their warfare with the whites, and what the Indians didn't know about devilment these renegades taught them.

"From the roof of the station and with the aid of a large spy glass, we had a pretty good view of what was going on at the train. The train had stopped on a side hill and with three wagons they had formed three sides of a square with one front facing up the hill to the north, one facing east and one south. The west side was open. The first Indians that came on to the scene of action charged right on to the train, but were repulsed, and as more of them arrived they again made a charge, but were again driven back. After this for a long time there did not seem to be much action going on; and every once m a while we would see a puff of smoke from the wagons or from the side hill below the wagons which showed that the fight was still going on, but we could not tell with what result, though we noticed that the puffs of smoke from the hillside on the south were getting closer and closer, and we felt that the end could not be far off. Never, never in all our services as soldiers had we ever experienced anything like this before. To know that about twenty of our comrades, with whom for nearly three years we had been soldiering in the South, were now within two and a half miles of us, surrounded by an overwhelming number of enemies, determined on their destruction, and were not able to do anything for their relief. Some of us went to Major Anderson and requested that about forty or fifty of us might be allowed to volunteer and go out on foot to attempt their rescue, but the major, while feeling deeply for the gallant fellows that were making such a good fight against the tremendous odds opposed to them, yet realizing how futile would have been our attempt for their relief, and the probability that all who started out would have shared the same fate as those with the train, and that then the garrison would have been so weakened that after our destruction it would have been an easy matter for the Indians to have taken the station and massacred all that were left. The major positively refused to allow any to go. At that time we thought the major was too cautious but since then, knowing what the Indians did with two hundred or more infantry that were slaughtered a year or two after this at Fort Fetterman, and more recently by the massacre of the gallant General Custer and his brave men at the battle of Little Big Horn, we were satisfied that the major's decision was a wise one, and that by it any of us are left to tell the tale.

"About three o'clock p. m., the major ordered a party of twenty mounted men under Lieutenant Walker to proceed about two miles east of the station to repair the telegraph wire that was cut at that point, so that we could telegraph to Deer Creek and other stations below, the situation, and have them send us reinforcements and ammunition to enable us to cope with the Indians. At the same time that Walker's party went out, the ten or twelve United States Infantry, or Galvanized Troops, under the command of their officer, were to go out about one-half mile from the station to support the cavalry under Walker on their return to the station, if the Indians should develop any force that would interfere with carrying out the orders from fixing the telegraph. A system of signals had been arranged by which Lieutenant Vv'alker was to be notified if the Indians from the west were moving back from the train to interfere with his carrying out of his orders. The flag at the station was to be waved if the Indians were moving toward him, and as soon as it was realized that enough of them were on the way to preclude all possibility of success, the howitzer was to be fired, and at that Lieutenant Walker was to bring his command back to the supports as quick as possible, and they were all to fall back to the station. Walker arrived at the break in the telegraph wire and then sent four men. Sergeant McDougal and Privates Porter, Hilty and Chappel, all of Company I, nth Kansas out about one-fourth of a mile farther east to watch for the Indians. The rest went to work joining the wire, which was broken in several places. Very soon after Walker's command left the station it was noticed that a large number of the Indians, who were on horseback between the station and the train had commenced moving north, and it was not a great while before they were spied crossing the divide about a mile northeast of the station. We knew then that these Indians had noticed the party of soldiers leaving the station and were on the way to intercept them. The signal was given with the flag, and as soon as the signal man was satisfied enough of the Indians had passed to make

The Battle Of Platte Bridge 403

"As soon as the report was heard, the men dropped their wires mounted their horses, and then Walker, without waiting for the four men who were thrown out in advance, ordered them in as fast as possible. The captain of the 'Galvanized troops' did not wait until the cavalry came up, but ordered his men back instanter. Some of Company I boys had gone out on foot nearly to where the 'Galvanized troops' had been stationed. As soon as they heard the howitzer they ran on to where the relief had been stationed, and as they passed by the 'Galvanized troops' they cursed the captain for a coward for leaving his post before the cavalry had got up to him. He paid no attention, but pushed on to the station, though some of his men turned back to help the others. The Cavalry came on until they reached the boys on foot and then the most of them turned to let the four men behind come up, though Lieutenant Walker's horse had got under such headway that it did not stop until it had carried him safely into the station, without his firing a shot from his revolver.

"About fifteen of the Indians had appeared out of a ravine and charged on the four men from the north side of the river. The men discharged their carbines and then commenced to unload their revolvers. They did not notice anything on the south. Several Indians came out of a ravine on the south close by them, and before they were observed one of them drove a spear through Porter's heart and he fell dead from his horse. Another one gave Hilty a stab with a spear through the lungs and then drew it out as Hilty fell forward on his horse's neck, the Indian moved ahead. His leg struck McDougal as he went by him, but he was so close he could not stab him until he drew his spear back. McDougal turned his head, and, seeing it was an Indian, brought his hand around with the revolver in it, pressed the weapon against the Indian's body and pulled his trigger. The Indian fell ofi^"his horse shot through the heart. It was the last shot McDougal had in his revolver, but it saved his life. By this time the boys on foot began to reach the Indians with their carbines, and as the Indians who had got into the light were comparatively few in numbers, they did not press any closer. Hilty clung to his horse until it carried him into the station, where he was taken care of. The rest of the men were then ordered back to the station.

"Just about the time Lieutenant Walker's party had started from the station, we noticed that the firing had ceased at the train, and very soon a large smoke arose, and we saw that the wagons were burning. We knew then that the fighting was all over, and that the brave men who had so well defended themselves were all dead. They had made a gallant fight for four full hours, but had been overpowered at last.

"Ihe Indians stayed about the place where the train had been until nearly nightfall, and then a great many of them moved back to the bluff north of the river. We expected that during the night they would make some demonstrations against the station, and the guards were doubled and extra vigilance enjoined on them so that they would not be taken unawares. Just after midnight a few of them came prowling around, but the guards were on the alert and fired on them. They responded with a few arrows, but did not make any further demonstrations.