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 CRAZY--THE KD 
 
 OR 
 
 THE COWBOY SCOUT 
 
 Author 
 J. C. HARMON 
 
 Copyright Applied for 
 
 1921 
 
 AU Rights Reserved 
 
 PRICE $1.00 
 
 ^6 anyone v^ho reads this book and Is not satisfied that they have received 
 
 £^l 'Z^'fl^ r°'^*J' ^ ""^i^ ^^^"^^ *^^ purchase price, upon my Receipt of 
 book, at the American Savings Bank, Sioux City, Iowa. — f he Author. 
 

 
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CRAZY-THE KD 
 
 OR 
 
 THE COWBOY SCOUT 
 
 ,. "Author 
 ]o^C. HARMON 
 
 Copyright Applied for 
 1921 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 

 \ 
 
 C1A609667 
 
 FEB 26 i92 
 
CRAZY-THE KID 
 
 OR 
 
 THE COWBOY SCOUT 
 
 I was born on April 23, 1848, in Marion County, Indiana, in a 
 one-room log house on WTiite River, about six miles from what is 
 now Indianapolis. At the age of thirteen I was a boy of great 
 sldll and as bad as any boy could be. At this time the Civil War 
 was at a high stage. My father, Richard M. Harmon, enhsted in 
 Company B, 1st Missouri Cavalry, and of course he left home and 
 I thought it was wrong that he should leave. I was the only boy 
 large enough to work and the only child living by his first wife, 
 there being two boys and two girls by his second wife, but they 
 were all too small to be of any help on the farm. I had a very 
 good step-mother, but still thought I was ill treated. My dear 
 reader, do you know that this world is full of foolish boys and 
 girls who don't know when they have a good home or cannot 
 stand good treatment or appreciate any kindness ? I was one of 
 that kind of boys- Every boy must sovv^ his wild oats and I 
 sowed mine. In the spring of 1861 father left me at home to plow 
 and plant corn. In our neighborhood there were a lot of negroes 
 who would work for 10c a night, working all night by the moon- 
 light. I had a leather belt which I prized very highly. I was 
 acquainted with all the negroes, and having the corn stalks to cut, 
 I thought I would if possible hire a negro to work by night. So 
 I went to one of my neighbor's, a negro named Aleck, and ac- 
 cording to the agreement we made he went to work at 10 o'clock 
 that night. So I went to bed contented, thinking I would get my 
 
4 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 work done without exerting myself, and I lay in bed having- 
 sweet dreams while my negro was hard at work cutting corn 
 stalks. There came to my mind that there were a lot of bush- 
 whackers at this time in Missouri and it was not safe for a 
 Yankee to be seen unless there were four or five hundred in a 
 squad. So on this occasion when horror had struck me my 
 father had got permission from his colonel, McFeron of Gallatin, 
 Davis Co., Mo., to come home and make his family his last final 
 visit. And then and there what did I hear father call out to 
 mother but: "Emily Jane, who is over in the field cutting stalks?'^ 
 "Why, it is Jake's nigger." 
 
 So father said in a very harsh tone: "Jacob!" Of course 
 Jacob was very sleepy and hard to waken. At last he was wide 
 awake and ready to receive further orders. To Jacob's surprise 
 he got it in the neck. "Jacob, you go over in the field and tell 
 Aleck to come to the house." 
 
 I knew that was general orders so away I went, not fully 
 understanding the situation. On my return with Aleck we en- 
 tered the house and father bade Aleck good evening and told me 
 to get my friend a chair, which I did, and bade me take his hat, 
 which I also did, and then I thought I was done waiting on the 
 black gentleman. But what comes next was a terror to snakes. 
 
 Father said: "Jacob, you go to the cupboard and get some 
 cold grub and set it on the table for your friend." And after I 
 had spread everything in apple-pie order, father says : "Sit down 
 there, Jacob, and wait on Aleck." 
 
 Of course it was not the fashion in those days to wait on any 
 colored person. It was the custom for slave holders to curse and 
 maul and beat them if they did not perform so much labor each 
 day, and hardly allow them to have the Sabbath day on which 
 to rest. Of course they were allowed to go 'coon or 'possum hunt- 
 ing when their day's work was done. You may talk about your 
 good times and your hard times, but the poor Indians had the 
 hardest time of all. Well, I tell you I have lived many years 
 among Indians and among negroes, particularly the Indians, of 
 which I will tell you later on. 
 
 But as to my negro Aleck. When supper was ended father 
 told me to fix the bed, and when I asked him in which room, he 
 
THECOWBOYSCOUT 5 
 
 said in reply: "Have Aleck sleep in your room and in your bed 
 and you sleep with him, Jacob." I said I wished just then my 
 name was not Jacob. Just before daylight father left for his 
 regiment and Aleck went home and I was not sorry that they 
 both were gone. I became a good boy for a short time and went 
 to work and did the plowing and my step-gi'andfather helped me 
 plant my com. We furrowed out the ground with one horse and 
 a single shovel plow and my oldest half-brother and one sister 
 dropped the corn by hand and I covered it with a hoe. I was two 
 long weeks at the thirty acres. You may think it was easy, but 
 you just mention dropping and covering by hand nowadays and 
 you will see somebody faint or you will hear some yery harsh 
 words. 
 
 After planting time I had quite a rest till plowing time, when 
 my troubles began. Of course the corn had to be plowed and I 
 was not the only one that couldn't plow corn. It was my first ex- 
 perience in that line for when father fanned he had two hired 
 hands. Both of them were now gone. One of them, Charlie 
 Howry, had enlisted in the 23rd Missouri regiment and the other 
 one, Labe Winset, had gone home to Iowa. Well, at last I went 
 to plowing corn with one horse, old Pussy, and I did pretty well 
 for a beginner, sometimes in and sometimes out of the row. 
 
 All at once I changed my mind and thought I would like to 
 be a soldier. I had so often seen the Union soldiers with their 
 big brass buttons. I thought if I could only wear such clothes 
 I would be bigger than the president of the United States, but 
 I would not have as much money, for just at that time our presi- 
 dent, old Buchanan, had all the money in the United States treas- 
 ury and he and Uncle Jeff were partners. But nevertheless one 
 day as I was plowing corn I drew old Pussy down into one corner 
 of the field and took myself over the yard gate and said to mother 
 and the childrea, "Good-bye," and started southward toward the 
 St. Joe & Hannibal Railroad. Clad in an old pair of jean pants 
 and a linsey shirt and an old black hat and barefooted I set off. 
 On bidding my folks goodbye my step-mother remarked: "You 
 had better come back here, Jacob, or Milton will give you a good 
 whipping when he comes home." "I can't help it, mother; I am 
 gone; good-bye." 
 
6 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 I went and on striking the railroad the first train that came 
 along was going to St. Joe, Mo. and not knowing about having 
 to pay my fare, I jumped on. The train pulled out and just as 
 I was very comfortably seated, here comes a man with big brass 
 buttons on his coat and gilded letters on his hat which read "Con- 
 ductor." He, of course, asked me for a ticket. I said I had none. 
 "Who told you I had a ticket? I don't steal. Pap learned me to 
 be honest and not steal." "My boy, where are you going?" "Well 
 sir, I don't know, but Pap taught me to mind good people." "Well 
 boy, where are you from and where do you live when you're at 
 home ?" "Well, I live on Little Muddy, close to Grand River. Do 
 you know where old Dave Groomer's mill is on Grand River, just 
 above Gallatin and just below Patton's Bird, over where the big 
 men go every Saturday to fight?" "Well, here boy, haven't you 
 any money?" "With the last ten cents I had I bought a strand 
 of beads for Betty Stout. That's one of old Black John Stout's 
 girls. I tell you she was a good gal. She danced with me when 
 none of the rest of the girls would, just because I was bare- 
 footed." "Say, my boy, where do you want to go?" "Well, sir, I 
 want to go and be a soldier," and just then the engine toot- tooted 
 and the cars stopped and not knov»'ing what that meant, I sat still. 
 In five minutes the cars were under way again. Say, I 
 thought I was as near' the holy land as I ever was in my life. But 
 just as I was thinking I was happy here comes the m.an with the 
 big shiny buttons on his coat and he stopped at the end of the 
 seat that I was sitting in and said: "Well, lad, when we get to 
 the next station you get off. It is St. Joe." 
 
 It was four o'clock in the morning when we arrived there and 
 me without money, barefooted, and nothing to eat and had had 
 nothing to eat since the day before at noon. I was a little lonely,, 
 too. I did not know what to do, when along comes a girl on the 
 railroad track. I started to walk too then, and at jioon landed 
 in Atchison, a little town in Kansas just across the Missouri 
 River. After sauntering around awhile I saw to my surprise a 
 great, big frame house going acro'ss the river to Winthrop and 
 when I looked close there was a big house with a fence around 
 it and they had teams and men on the doggone thing. When it 
 came back I saw them tear out one side of the fence and the teams 
 (h'ove off and more teams drove on and men, women and children 
 
T H E C O \V B O Y S C O U T 7 
 
 Tu^ent on and I thought as there was no clanger I would venture 
 on board the floating house. 
 
 The bell went dong, dong, and the first thing I knew I was 
 out in the middle of the river and just as I was enjoying myself 
 a gentleman stepped up and said: "Here lad, I want ten cents 
 for your fare on this boat." "Well, you bet your boots I don't 
 have ten cents for with my last ten cents I bought Betty a strand 
 of beads." "Lad, give me ten cents for crossing on this boat." 
 "Well, sir, I don't have ten cents, but I will work for you and 
 pay you." "No, you young rascal, that won't do." But just at 
 this critical moment relief came. A well dressed gentleman 
 stepped up and paid the ten cents and I was once more a free 
 boy. Arriving in Atchison about 3 o'clock in the afternoon I felt 
 a craving in my stomach, but how to get rid of that craving was 
 a conundrum. It was coming supper time and as I was walking 
 along the street I saw bread, pies, cakes and cookies in a restau- 
 rant window. In I went. The man behind the counter was a nice 
 big, portly gentleman. I said : "I am hungry and I want a piece 
 of bread and butter. I have no money but I will work and pay 
 you." "Can you chop wood?" he asked. "Yes, sir, I can," I re- 
 plied. "Will you chop the wood first?" "Yes." "Well, are you 
 hungry?" "Yes, I have not had anything to eat since yesterday 
 noon." "Well, you wait about fifteen minutes and supper will be 
 ready." 
 
 When I got to the table I thought I could eat everything on 
 the table. But soon my appetite was satisfied and supper being 
 over I felt as though I could not stoop over. I went out into the 
 front room and I was sitting there very well contented when all 
 at once I heard a voice saying, "Lad, come out here and I will 
 show you what wood I want cut." He took me out and showed 
 me a pile of dry wood, a buck saw and an axe and I went to work 
 and at dark I had quite a pile of wood cut up. The landlord then 
 called me to come in and I was not long in obeying him, so in I 
 went and you bet I had a good bed that night, and the next day 
 I put in on the wood pile until just before supper when the land- 
 lord called out and said : "Come in, lad." And on entering there 
 was a nice looking gentleman who asked me if I could drive oxen. 
 
 I answered : "Yes, Pap has one yoke of oxen at home, Buck 
 and Charley — one is red and the other white. I cut down trees in 
 
THECOWBOYSCOUT 9 
 
 the pasture and drag them up with Buck and Charley and if you 
 have such oxen as they are I can drive them." 
 
 "Well, lad, I have all kinds, and you would have to drive six 
 yoke to two wagons — do you think you could do that?" "Well, 
 I don't know," I replied- "Where do you want me to drive them 
 and what do I have to haul ? Do I have to haul wood or do I have 
 to plow?" "Oh, neither, you will have to drive them across the 
 plains." "Yes, I see," I said. "Back and forth across some river 
 or creek." 
 
 "Say, lad, were you ever away from home much?" "Yes, I 
 have been to Pattonsburg lots of times, which is two miles and a 
 quarter from our house." "How old are you, lad?" "Well, sir, I 
 was thirteen just before corn planting time last spring." "What 
 is your name?" "Why, Pap called me his 'trifling Jake.' " "Why 
 does he call you that ?" "Well, I was Pap's pet till Bill and Sally 
 got pretty big and when we were going to school, in crossing a 
 little creek on our way to school and back one evening we met 
 some geese swimming in the creek. There were about twelve 
 goslings and I got some sticks to throw at them and they would 
 dive under the water. At last they got stubborn and I was 
 determined to make them dive and so in throwing my clubs I 
 broke three of their necks and when we got home Bill and Sally 
 told on me and I expected a good mauling from father but instead 
 he sent me the next morning to Mr. Kane, who owned the geese, 
 to work and pay for them. The work which Mr. Kane gave me 
 was to carry about twenty rails across a mud puddle and back 
 and then sent me off to school." 
 
 After asking me a few more questions he gave me a job and 
 took me out to camp. In three days we started loading and 
 after loading we drove out about five miles and corraled. Then 
 he took all the men and boys back to town and bought each a new 
 outfit — boots, shoes, clothing — to last till we crossed the plains 
 and returned. I thought he was the best man in the world. 
 Everything was now ready to start across the plains. 
 
 On Monday morning we were ordered to drive in the bulls 
 and once in the corral we began to yoke them up and the fun 
 commenced. Every fellow for himself. You had to take your 
 yoke on your left shoulder and with one bow in your right 
 hand strike out -among 1900 head of bulls to yoke up six* yoke 
 
10 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 of them. The bosses would show you your wheelers, that is the 
 two that go on the tongue of your wagon and the next are your 
 leaders, then come the swing yokes. You take out your wheelers 
 and put them on your wagon tongue, then go and yoke up five 
 more yoke and drive them out and hitch them ahead of your 
 wheelers, then you are ready to pull out and you stand by your 
 team ur^il it comes your turn to pull and then your trouble com- 
 mences. Then you are in for a half day's walk. Of course there 
 were no bull whackers allowed to ride, not even on their own 
 wagon tongue, you just had to walk. 
 
 Monday was our first experience in bull whacking and I 
 wished for my part I had not undertaken the job. I was not in 
 the habit of swearing, but I soon got into the habit. Of course I 
 had lots of lessons in swearing, rehearsed by older whackers 
 than myself, and on hearing these others I was not long graduat- 
 ing, being a dull Missourian. 
 
 We had dinner and on we went. Night came and we cor- 
 raled our yoke and began getting supper. We were cut up into 
 messes of from ten to fifteen in each mess and one out of each 
 mess had to do the cooking and it was some cooking too, for there 
 were none of them that knew how to cook. At last supper was 
 ready and each whacker grabbed a tin cup and a tin plate and got 
 a cup of coffee and grabbed some "bully" and slap-jacks and 
 sneaked off to one side and sat down on the ground and went to 
 eating. 
 
 Well, I was disgusted, and I thought if I was only back home 
 I would stay there. But no, I was billed for Fort Laramie, Wy- 
 oming Territory, and in the morning after a good night's rest we 
 were awakened at four o'clock. Of course that went against my 
 pride. Breakfast over, in came the cattle or bulls. The bulls 
 were in the corral. Orders came from Gabe Waid, he being the 
 1-8 boss, to yoke up. 
 
 Then the fun began. There wasn't ten men in the outfit that 
 knew what bulls to yoke up. You just took a yoke and put it 
 on your shoulder and turned yourself loose among nineteen 
 hundred head of bulls. 
 
 It was a great mix-up. One bull would hit you with hi» 
 horn and about that time another bull would kick you and you 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 11 
 
 wished to the good Lord that you had never been born, or at 
 least that you had never run away from home. 
 
 Well, we were ready at last and began to pull out. When 
 our outfit was all pulled out and ready to go we were strung 
 along the road for a mile and a half from the time the head wagon 
 started, and it would be one and a half hours before the hind 
 wagon would pull out, and as soon as all were on the road the 
 whooping, cursing and whipping commenced. I had a fine bull 
 whip, the lash being eighteen feet long and the stalk two feet 
 and when I would get mad and try to split a bull open with my 
 whip I generally got it wound around myself. But I soon got 
 used to it. Father never allowed me to swear at home. But I 
 could not resist — the other words came too handy when you got 
 mad. / 
 
 Hurrah ! They are corraling now, ahd I will get to rest, and 
 as soon as we were unyoked the cooks of mess said : "Whackers 
 of mess, now get your gunny sacks and gather up some buffalo 
 chips." I got a sack and started out with Whistling Dick. This 
 Dick was my bunky. I strolled along, but did not know what 
 buffalo chips were. But I saw what he was getting so I began to 
 pick the same and we returned and built a fire and supper was 
 soon ready and when ready the cook yelled out: "Grub pile!" 
 
 "Of course I sat still and the rest of the whackers jumped in 
 and when I got there my rations were slim. But I remembered 
 that yell "Grub pile," after that. Well, I did not have much of an 
 appetite for such grub for the slap-jacks were colored with the 
 ashes from the buffalo chips. 
 
 However hunger soon brought me to it and I quickly got so 
 I coUld eat as much as any of them, ashes or no ashes. 
 
 At last we arrived on the Big Blue River, which flows 
 through Nebraska state and from there we crossed the prairie to 
 the South Platte River. We struck the South Platte at Old Doby 
 Town, east of old St. Kearney, and when we got to the Platte we 
 lay over one day and I thought that I was an old man, the time 
 had been so long since I left home. 
 
 However, I had only been away from home one month. We 
 got a good rest and started on our journey and the next thing 
 ©f noticeable importance was Jack Marrow's ranch, which is lo- 
 
12 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 cated south of the South Platte, and about four miles above 
 where the North Platte River empties into the South Platte. 
 
 We will mention more that happened on these rivers in later 
 years. 
 
 On we went. Well, I thought we were going clear out of 
 the world. One afternoon a joyful sound came to my ears. I 
 heard old Duff say: "Say, Gabe, where are you going to cross 
 the Platte?" "Why, we will cross at Freemont's orchard." Say, 
 that sounded good to me, for I had not had an apple since I left 
 Atchison. So we arrived at Freemont's orchard and we crossed 
 the river. We had to put eighteen yoke of bulls on one wagon 
 to pull it across. There was sand and quicksand and the river 
 was one mile across. But the water was awfully shallow. We 
 were four days crossing and the second day Gabe was riding 
 along and I asked him when we would get to Freemont's or- 
 chard" "Why, Jake, do you want some apples?" "Yes, Gabe, I 
 do." 'Well, did you see that island of cotton wood timber just 
 about where we crossed the river?" "Yes, I saw that." "Well, 
 that is Freemont's orchard." 
 
 I didn't eat any apples after all. After we left the river we 
 went to what was known as the Ash Hollow Route. 
 
 Now, my dear reader, at the head of Ash Hollow was where 
 Old General WilKam Haniey had his massacre in 1859 and we 
 were over his battlefield two years after it happened and skele- 
 tons of Indians and white men and mules and horses lay all over 
 the ground. 
 
 You can tell an Indian's skeleton from that of a white man 
 from the fact that the bones of an Indian are dark brown and 
 a white man's bone's are whiter. This massacre was near the 
 east corner of Wyoming and east of Chimney Rock. 
 
 At last we arrived at Ft. Laramie, way out in Wyoming and 
 the right man to receive our goods was not there. He was up 
 to old Ft. Hallock and we had to wait one week before we could 
 unload. At last we began unloading. Say, I was happy when we 
 commenced unloading, for I thought as soon as we were done 
 we would start back to the states. But to my surprise we were 
 paid off right there and then there were only twenty men hired 
 for the round trip and the rest were hired for the through trip. 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 13 
 
 So the next morning the boys who were hired for the round trip 
 commenced coupling up the wagons and the next day they with 
 all the teams and bosses started back. Well, about eighty-five 
 whackers stayed at Laramie and there was nothing there, only 
 soldi^s, Indians and bull whackers, and there I was, left alone 
 and knowing nobody, only the boss who had whacked across the 
 plains with me. 
 
 Of course I had money and had my own bed — four pair of 
 blankets. You could get a pretty rough meal for one dollar and 
 you could take your blankets and make your bed inside of a 
 doby shanty for fifty cents. Dick, my chum, stayed there about 
 ten days and we got a chance to drive a caravan back to Omaha, 
 Nebraska, for old Mart Scott, and when we got to Omaha Mart 
 wanted me to go out across the plains again to Denver. 
 
 He wanted me to night herd. He said it would be easy on 
 me. I could change ponies three or four times each night. "Well, 
 Mart, what wages will you give me?" **I will give you seventy- 
 five dollars a month." **Is Dick going back?" "Yes, but he 
 will whack." "Well, it's a go. I will take the job." I didn't 
 understand much about night herding, but I soon learned I had 
 no snap. So we loaded up the wagons and started across the 
 plains for Denver, Colorado Territory. We had Mart Scott as 
 first boss, Harry Good as second boss and Bill Dupp third boss, 
 and we went west through Nebraska. There were a few farms 
 opened up and the bulls gave me some trouble, but for the first 
 week Mart had one of the whackers to help me nights and after 
 we got out of the farming country I had to go it alone. Well, this 
 thing of staying up all night alone, with about 2100 head of bulls 
 was no snap. I got along better than I expected, though. 
 I had a bunch of ponies and as soon as one was played out I 
 would catch another and so on until 4 o'clock in the morning. 
 Then I would ride to the corral and wake up Gabe and he would 
 holler "Turn out, whackers !" Then I would return to my bulls 
 and begin driving them in, and once the bulls were in the corral 
 I went to my bunk wagon and went to sleep and after I had 
 been on the trail for about three weeks the bulls were tired at 
 night and I put in more time in lying down and resting. I 
 sought out one old bull that was gentle and I slipped off my 
 pony and threw my blanket over his belly and sat down on the 
 
14 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 ground and leaned up against him and slept for about one and a 
 half hours. I generally slept until dinner was ready after they 
 were yoked up and out on the trail. 
 
 At last we arrived at old Julesburg. Julesburg is where the 
 cut-off is taken to Denver. By the cut-off it is only seventy 
 miles and by river route it is ninety-five miles, so it was agreed 
 to go the river route. We made the river route of ninety-five 
 miles in twelve days. It was a time of the year when there were 
 good roads and there was no sand to pull through, and for two 
 days before we got to Julesburg I imagined I saw a great cloud 
 in the west. So one evening I said to Mart, "I think, Mart, you 
 had better let one of the whackers help me herd tonight, for I 
 think we are going to have a big storm." "Why do you 
 think so ?" "Well, don't you see that big cloud rising in the west ? 
 It has been there for the last two evenings." "Yes, Jakey, that 
 cloud has been there every since this world was made. That 
 is the Rocky Mountains." 
 
 We arrived in Denver and unloaded one hundred wagons and 
 sent them and the whackers down the Platte River about one 
 hundred miles, and left all the whackers and bulls there, while we 
 took forty wagons, loaded mostly with flour and whisky, bacon 
 and tobacco and went from Denver to Golden Gate and there the 
 boss had to pay one dollar a wagon to go up Gjni Hill. The boys 
 that went down the river were paid off and laid around camp 
 until we got back from Central City. It was nine miles up the 
 mountains and one and a half down into the canyon where Cen- 
 tral City, a mining town, was located. There was all kinds of 
 machinery there. There were the stamp mills and smelters. The 
 quartz is brought up out of a shaft about three hundred feet 
 deep and hauled to the stamp mill, where it is crushed and the 
 coarse gold washed out, then the fine quartz is thrown into the 
 smelter and ground fine like corn meal, then the waste is throvm 
 into the creek. For four or five miles down the creek there 
 were Chinese huts and they were washing the waste over. Of 
 course they made money, for they lived with what a w^hite man 
 would starve to death on. 
 
 While the boss was unloading I had nothing to do so I took 
 in the sights. I went to where there was a shaft and on seeing 
 big loads of quartz, or rock, brought up out of the shaft I w^as at 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 15 
 
 a wonderment as to how things worked down below, so I asked if 
 I could go down, and the boss said, "There will be a fellow here 
 pretty soon, and you can go down with him." 
 
 So when he came the boss said : "Jump on." And on I got 
 and away we went do\^TI and on arriving at the bottom of the 
 shaft I had no hat. But it came soon. There was a man 
 standing there who attended to the loads, and there was a rail- 
 road track there and I thought it was a great place to have a 
 track. But it was only a few minutes until a mule came along 
 pulling a dumpy cart and the platform that I had come down on 
 was transferred to another car, and the mule and the big hooks 
 were fastened to the platform that was loaded, and away it went 
 up the shaft. In any direction you would look you could see little 
 lights. They were on the miners' caps. I asked the man if they 
 took the mules out of there to feed them and he said "No." I 
 asked: "How do you feed them?" "Over yonder, by that third 
 light, there is the barn where we feed them." "How long have 
 you had them down here?" "Only seven years." "Well, sir," I 
 asked, "how can I get out of here?" "Why," he answered, you 
 can go up on the next load." 
 
 Soon there came another mule with a cart load and you bet 
 I was ready. "Say, lad, you get up on top and hold to those 
 bars there over your head, and when you get up to the top the 
 man up there will tell you how to get off." And away we went up, 
 up and at last I was on top of the globe once more. When the 
 load was at the top of the shaft it kept on going until I was 
 about ten feet above the top. Just then a big trap door fell be- 
 low me and a fellow drew in under the load and it was lowered 
 onto his wagon. He drew up with me on the load and he 
 asked me if I wanted to go down to the crusher and I asked him 
 what a crusher was. He said it Was where they crushed that 
 rock to pieces and got the gold out of it, and I said if he didn't 
 mind I would like to go with him. So down I went and I went 
 inside where there were men with sledges, breaking the big rocks 
 into small pieces and then shoveling them into the sluiceways, 
 where the stamps came down on them and pulverized them. 
 The quartz was washed out into a slough pan and there the gold 
 was gathered by means of quicksilver. There were great chunks 
 or particles of iron laying in the quartz. These were broken 
 
16 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 up with the sledges, and I thought it was all gold. So I asked 
 one of the men if I could have some of that gold and he said: 
 "Take all you want." I filled both pockets and carried it for 
 about three days and my legs were so sore I could hardly walk. 
 One day as I was walking along Mart Scott asked me what 
 was the matter with me. "You walk so funny." "Well, I tell 
 you, Mart, you keep it to yourself. I have both pockets full of 
 gold." "What gold? Where did you get it?" "I got it up in 
 Central City." Mart then said, "Let me see some of your gold, 
 Jakey." 
 
 So I pulled out a hand full and showed him and he laughed 
 at me. "Whj% Jakey, there is not two cents' worth of gold in 
 both of your pockets." 
 
 Well, as soon as I was out of sight I emptied both pockets. 
 I was intending to go back home a millionaire. 
 
 We went down on the Platte River where the rest of our 
 bull outfit was and there Mart said to me: "Well, Jakey, I want 
 you to stay here with the bulls and wagons this winter." "Say, 
 Mart, how many of the boys are going to stay with me ?" "None 
 but you," he replied. "Well," I said, "I won't stay here by my- 
 self if you would give me the w'hole outfit." "Well, if you can 
 get one of the boys to stay with you will you stay?" "Yes." 
 "Pick out your man" I picked out the oldest man in the 
 whole outfit, and he said, "Well, Jakey, I was thinking of going 
 back to the state of Georgia to see Susanna and the children, but 
 if Mart will give me as much wages as he is giving you I will 
 stay." This man's name was Bill Skinner. 
 
 Sp Bill and I went over across the corral to where Mart was 
 and I told Mart that Bill would stay with me if he would give 
 him as much wages as I was getting. Mart said he would, so 
 Bill told him he would stay. Mart had a good laugh and said, ' 
 "Boy, you can have more fun here than you can in some big city." 
 
 Well, we found out how much fun there was in it before 
 spring. Of course we had nothing to do only to ride around and 
 hunt, cook and eat. Neither of us knew anything about cooking. 
 The first meal was got, but there was very little eating done. 
 Miart said : "Jakey, you boys had better yoke up a yoke of bulls 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 17 
 
 ^nd take a trail wagon and pick up four or five loads of buffalo 
 chips. You can go out beyond the main trail and you will find 
 plenty of chips ^^vhere the buffalo have been grazing." 
 
 Everything was very pleasant when all the whackers were 
 there but in the morning when all of them pulled out we stood 
 and watched them as far as we could see them. Well, if you 
 ever saw two lonesome fellows, it was Bill and I. Of course we 
 had everything that we could wash for, except company. 
 
 Mart said : "Jakey, if any Indians come to your camp, why, 
 you and Bill feed them, don't spare the grub, for in that way you 
 wall make friends instead of enemies out of them." After the 
 boys were out of sight Bill said : "God, but I wish I hadn't stayed. 
 I would not have stayed anyway, but I Uke you. You little devil !" 
 "Well, Bill," I said, ''we are here and we wall get along all right." 
 "Yes, Jakey," he said, "but what will Susan say when she gets 
 a letter that I won't be at home until next spring?" "Oh, forget 
 it. Bill," I answered. 
 
 Things went well for two or three weeks. One evening Bill 
 said : "Say, Jakey, hadn't w^e better go in the morning and look 
 after our bulls ?" "Yes," I said, "I think we had." 
 
 So in the morning while Bill got breakfast I got in some of 
 the ponies and we saddled up and started north and went in that 
 direction until we came to Clear Creek and we rode up the creek/ 
 five or six miles and saw what we supposed was all of Mart's 
 bulls. . "Well, Bill," I said, "hadn't we better start back to the 
 outfit?" "Yes," he rephed, "I think so. I am hungry now." 
 It was about three o'clock, and like all other greenies we did not 
 take a lunch along with us. So we struck out for camp and dark 
 came on and w^e got lost. It was about ten o'clock when Bill 
 said: "Jakey, I believe I will starve to death before sunrise." 
 "Oh, Bill," I said, "when dayhght comes we can kill an antelope." 
 "Yes," he said, "but how are you going to cook it? I have no 
 matches." About midnight we dismounted and unsaddled and 
 tied our horses to the horns of our saddles and spread out our 
 saddle blankets and lay down to sleep or wait for the coming of 
 daylight or the approach of Bill's death. But daylight came and 
 Bill had not died. 
 
 We -then saddled up and started on our way and about ten 
 o'clock that day we were on top of a high ridge. Off to our 
 
18 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 left we saw a large valley and we struck out for it- When 
 there we found it to be the Platte River and we struck the old 
 Mormon trail and then we knew that we were below our outfit. 
 We had never seen that country before. 
 
 So up the river we went and about two o'clock in the after- 
 noon we saw our outfit. "Hurrah, Jakey ! There is the outfit." 
 Soon we arrived and Bill jumped up and went into the tent. He 
 went and grabbed a slap-jack and a chunk of raw sow belly and 
 began to eat. I laughed at him. "Say, Jakey," he said, "have 
 you got sense enough to get hungry?" "Say, Jakey," he con- 
 tinued, "I wish Mart Scott and the whole outfit were in the devil 
 and I were at home with Susann and the children in Georgia." 
 
 The reason why I chose this old man to stay with me was be- 
 cause he was like a parent to me and always treated me nicely. 
 After Bill got filled up on slap-jack, sow belly and coffee he was 
 in a good humor again and we had a long talk over our adven- 
 tures as camp boys. 
 
 Things were going pretty well. But a few days after 
 our trip as camp boys we were in our tent talking and enjoying 
 ourselves when all at once a big buck Indian came in at the 
 door of the tent and said: "How! How!" Bill screamed out: 
 "Jakey," get your gun." "Say, Bill," I replied, "hold on, you know 
 what Mart told us to do if any Indians should come to our 
 outfit. He said: Teed them well.'" "All right," replied Bill, 
 "You get him some grub and I will hold on to my gun and if he 
 makes a crooked move I will get his heart," and just then another 
 buck came in and they kept on coming until there were eleven 
 of them. "Say, Jakey," exclaimed Bill, "the red devils will eat 
 up all of our grub and we will starve before Mart gets back in 
 the spring." "Say, Bill," I retorted, "you think too much of your 
 stomach." The eleven Indians left us after staying three days 
 and we hoped they never would return. A short time after the 
 Indians had gone I was out looking around and taking things 
 easy when, looking doAvn the Platte valley, I saw what I thought 
 were Indians. So I hurried to the tent and yelled "Bill Skinner, 
 come out here. All the Indians in Colorado are coming.," and 
 Bill came and looked, and on close' observation he said, "Why, 
 Jakey, that is a Mormon train." Sure enough it was a Mormon 
 train, and they corraled just between our outfit and the Platte 
 
A VISIT FROM INDIANS TO CRAZY BULL CAMP. 
 
20 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 River and as soon as they were corraled Bill and I went down 
 to see them. 
 
 They were on their way to the Garden of Eden, that is, Great 
 Salt Lake City, where old Brigham Young was. 
 
 I tell you, my reader. Bill and I were happy to see women* 
 folks, that is, to see somebody wearing dresses. They camped 
 there for two days and while there we got about eight of the 
 women folk to come up to our tent and cook us some bread. We 
 had an old fashioned Dutch oven and they baked us up a lot of 
 good bread. Oh, say, but we enjoj'^ed ourselves with them. The 
 third morning they pulled out and it was fun for us to watch 
 them getting on the trail. One would have a span of horses and 
 a wagon and the next team a yoke of cows and the next would 
 be a young married couple pulling a two-wheeled cart with their 
 belongings. Any way to get to Salt Lake to the Garden of Eden. 
 Well, it was a sight. It was a big show to Bill and L They had 
 the true belief of Mormonism and they were willing to under- 
 take the great task of crossing the plains. 
 
 "0, say, Bill," I said "the train of Mormons is out of sight." 
 \"Well," he answered, "I don't give a doggone, I wish I was back 
 in Georgia with Susan and our two little brats — I wouldn't care, 
 but I have about three hundred dollars that 1 wished she had. 
 Say, Jakey, do you know how far it is down the river to old 
 Howard Kempton's ranch?" "Why," I replied, "Mart said it 
 was the nearest ranch and it was eight-five miles." "Well, don't 
 you want to go down there and get us two gallons of good whis- 
 ky," suggested Bill. "You can take that little two-gallon 
 water jug that has a handle in the middle and go down tomorrow. 
 You will get there in the night and you can lay over the next 
 day and the next come home." 
 
 "Say," I replied, "can't we both go?" 
 
 "No," he answered, "you see if we both go and the Indians 
 come to see us, why, the devil would be to pay." "Well," I said, 
 "I will study it over and give you an answer this evening." 
 
 Later I said to Bill: "Well, all right, Bill, I will go just for 
 your sake." 
 
 So in the morning at daybreak I saddled up and started ^o 
 where I did not know. But I said to myself, "I will find that 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 21 
 
 ranch. Of course at that time of the year there would not be 
 much doing around a ranch. There would probably be some 
 thieves or gamblers laying around for the winter, waiting for the 
 spring trail to open up. At about nine o'clock that night I arrived 
 at the ranch- There was a corral and I put my pony in and 
 then went to the ranch and when I entered the room I saw old 
 Howard behind the bar and six thieves or gamblers sitting there 
 half drunk. Each of them had one or "two guns strapped round 
 their waists and of all the cursing and swearing you ever heard 
 it was there. I thought if I was back to the outfit I would stay 
 there and if Bill wanted any whisky he could go and get it. 
 
 Pretty soon they began talking to me. "Say, you young 
 spalpeen, what are you doing here ? Have you stole a hoss from 
 some bull outfit and making your getaway?" 
 
 Well, my liver came up into my throat and I couldn't make 
 any reply. Of course I had two good guns on myself and would 
 use them if forced to it. 
 
 Old Howard said : 'Talk up to them — tell them that it is none 
 of their business where you come from or where you are going. 
 You stay by them. I will see you don't get hurt." 
 
 "All right, Howard," I repHed. Continuing I said: "Say 
 Howard, I would like a bite to eat," and he gave me some bacon, 
 crackers, coffee, sugar and beans. I did full justice to the 
 meal I had set before me. 
 
 "Say, feller," said one of the men, "what is your name, and 
 what are you doing? Are you picking up lame bulls or are you 
 with a bull outfit?" "Well," I retorted, "I can tell you if you 
 have to know. I whacked from Atchison, Kansas, across to Ft. 
 Laramie, up in Wyoming. I went out with Gabe Wade, then I 
 night herded from Omaha to Denver and we unloaded part of the 
 wagons in Denver and the rest we took up to Central City up in 
 the mountains. Central City is a big mining camp. And now at 
 the present time Bill Skinner and I are with Mart Scott's outfit 
 of cattle and wagons, all except what the rest of the whackers 
 took in to Omaha." 
 
 "What outfit did you say? You are with Mart Scott's? 
 Well, I guess you are telling the truth, for we all know him. Say, 
 Banjo Bill, let us boys have a game." "All right!" "Come on. 
 
22 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 boys," and a deck of cards were produced and an old table hauled 
 out into the middle of the bar room and when they had all taken 
 their places around the round table one said : "What will we make 
 the ante?" "Well, say four bits, that will be enough for a little 
 social game." "All right, let 'er go." "Well, boys, what 
 about whisky- for this Httle game?" "Let us buy one bottle 
 all around, and if that ain't enough then we will chip in and buy 
 some more." "Well, here Howard, is my two-fifty for the first 
 bottle." and at it they went, and every once in a while they would 
 say to me: "Here, you little spalpeen, come here and take a 
 glass." So I obeyed orders until I was hardly able to obey them. 
 
 Everything was lovely until about two o'clock in the morning 
 when things took a sudden change and such a sight I never saw. 
 They pulled three guns and began shooting into the ceiling of the 
 room, so I jumped behind the bar, then behind a barrel, then I 
 made a straight shoot for the door and, don't you forget it, I hit 
 it and was out doors and on the keen jump until I was out of 
 gunshot. Say, a quarter horse could not have caught me. 
 After daylight I sneaked back doMni by the corral and I saw old 
 Howard and asked him if that fuss was over with." 
 
 "Oh, yes," Howard replied. "They are all asleep now. They 
 didn't do any harm. Old Ephe got a hole through his ten dollar 
 hat." "Say, Mr. Howard, I want two gallons of whisky in 
 my little water keg." "Well," queried Howard, "what kind do 
 you want? I have some at fourteen dollars per gallon and some 
 at eighteen per gallon." "Well," I said, "Give me the best." 
 "All right," he said, and getting my juice I strapped it on my 
 saddle and was ready to go. Just then old Ephe came out of 
 an old doby shanty close by and said : "You little coward, where 
 did you go last night when we boys was having a little fun?" 
 "Talk up to him," said Howard. "Let him know you are here 
 and have good backing." Said I: "I don't know as it is any of 
 your business where I went or what I went for." "All right," 
 said Ephe, "Howard, you give that little whacker a drink and I 
 will pay for it." So I took a drink and as soon as I could get on 
 my pony I was gone for my bull outfit and it was after mid- 
 night when I got there- Bill was sitting up, waiting for me. 
 I rode up and hollered "Hello!" Bill came out and took the keg, 
 unscrewed the tap and turned it up to hi? lips, and I think he 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 23 
 
 held his breath for about fifteen minutes. "Oh, say, Jakey," he 
 remarked, "that is good." He spoke this when he got his breath : 
 "How much did she cost, Jakey?" "Thirty-six dollars." "Oh 
 goodness," Bill replied, "I could get better than this in Georgia 
 for forty cents a gallon." "Say, Bill," I said, "that is just what 
 it cost me." "All right, let it go," he said, "it is almost half a 
 month's wages. Well, Jakey, we get our money easy." "Yes, 
 Bill, but it isn't easy to get whisky. You run the risk of your 
 life for two gallons of whisky." "Why, Jakey," exclaimed Bill, 
 "What happened?" "Why, there were a lot of cutthroats and 
 gamblers and thieves and drunkards." "Say, Jakey, did you have 
 a fuss with them ?" "No, I was out" of it. Say, Bill, when they 
 began shooting I shot too, but for the door and ran like a grey 
 hound until I got out of gunshot and I stayed until I could see, 
 then I sneaked back and got my whisky, and you bet I started 
 for the outfit. Say, Bill, hadn'e we better take a ride tomorrow 
 and look after the cattle?" 
 
 So, in the morning we took ponies and rifles and started 
 out northeast. When out about ten miles from the outfit, we ran 
 across a herd of antelope and we killed two of them and threw 
 them onto our ponies. Back to the outfit we went and dressed 
 our game and began cooking for the evening. Oh, that sweet 
 smell that came from the frying of that fresh meat ! 
 
 "Say, Jakey, isn't this glorious?" Well, we had lots of fun 
 but lonesome fun, only us two there, an old man and a young 
 fool. No white man closer than eighty-five miles. Of course 
 they were not white, only in color, but not in heart. 
 
 "Say, Bill," I said, "let us go over on Clear Creek tomorrow." 
 "All right, I will cook some fresh meat and bacon and slap-jacks 
 to take along," said Bill. "I am not going out again and have 
 nothing to eat along." "All right. Bill, I will go you one if 
 I lose." 
 
 So the next morning away we went, and that night we 
 camped between Clear Creek and the Cashlakuda and the next 
 day we rounded up the cattle or bulls and headed them toward 
 home or toward the outfit. 
 
 Can the readers imagine how they would feel if they were 
 out there alone, among coyotes, rattlesnakes, savages and cut- 
 throats and outlaws ? How often would you wish you were back 
 
24 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 home ? I often wished I was back home in old Missouri. But I 
 never let on I was there to stay. , 
 
 Well, at last spring came and Mart Scott also and enough 
 whackers to drive the outfit in to Omaha and within five days 
 we started for Omaha. Well, if you ever saw anybody happy 
 it was Bill and I. When we got to Omaha I thought I would go 
 home, but Mart said he could not spare me, he wanted me to 
 night herd one more trip, so I agreed to go one more trip across 
 those lonesome plains. This was in the spring of 1862 and after 
 we got loaded up we rolled out for that long drive at the rate 
 of eight or ten miles a day. 
 
 A part of the load was for Ft. Laramie and part for Ft. Hal- 
 lock. Laramie was in Wyoming and Hallock was in Utah. 
 
 We arrived at Laramie and left part of the outfit and went 
 on to Hallock and unloaded and returned by way of Laramie. 
 When we got to Laramie tv/enty of the whackers and myself 
 quit and the outfit and the rest of the boys went back to Oma- 
 ha. Bill Skinner quit the first trip. When we got into Omaha 
 he had to walk down the Missouri River or wait for a steamboat 
 to St. Joe. There he would strike a railroad. There were no 
 railroads at Omaha. And after I had quit Mart I went to 
 whacking mules and I whacked from Laramie down to Denver, 
 and there I saw lots of men wearing the blue uniforms that had 
 great big brass buttons on, and I asked the boss of the out- 
 fit if he could pay me off. I said I wanted to quit. He said he 
 could and he did so. I laid around for a couple of days and one 
 afternoon I was in quite a crowd and I heard some one say that 
 they wanted more men for soldiers- 1 jumped at that job 
 and asked one well dressed man if he knew how a fellow could 
 get into the army and he said "Yes, I will show you. Come with 
 me and I will get you into the army." We went way down town 
 and we passed saloon after saloon. At last he said : "Lad, do you 
 ever drink?" "Yes," I said. "Well, come in and we will have a 
 smile." 
 
 In we went and poured down two glasses. Each of which 
 cost him one dollar. Then we went to a recruiting office where 
 they were recruiting for the First Colorado Cavalry and they 
 went to work at me. Examined me to see if I had ring bone or 
 bog spavin and trotted me across a big room to see whether 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 25 
 
 I was a trotter or a pacer or a three-footer. So I filled the bill 
 all right, all but my age and when it came to that they asked 
 me my age and I yelled out : "I was fourteen last April." "Well 
 we can't take you, for you are too young," they said, and heart- 
 broken I sneaked away and the fellow who had come with me 
 said: "Here, feller, do you want to get into the army pretty 
 bad?" And I said, "Yes, I do," whereupon he said: "Well, you 
 come along with me down below here. There is another recruit- 
 ing office on the bank of Cherry Creek just west of the old Ele- 
 phant corral," Away we went and on our way down we called 
 in at another grog shop and had an eye-oj>ener and by that time 
 my fever was up to one hundred and three in the shade and on 
 the way down to the recruiting office my friend who was getting 
 twenty-five dollars for my scalp said to me: "Now, when they 
 ask you your age you brace up and say 'eighteen' and you will 
 get in all right." 
 
 My father had always taught me to never lie, but Satan and 
 grog had control of me. I had not been under my father's eye 
 for a long time and thought it was no harm to tell one little lie. 
 So when the recruiting officer asked me how old I was I said: 
 "Eighteen." Then they had me fast and there were some fel- 
 lows standing by and the recruiting officer told one of them to 
 take me down to Fort Cottonwood and turn me over to Captain 
 Sola of Company D. Arriving at the fort I saw lots of men 
 wearing blue uniforms, some carrying a gun and saber and re- 
 volver by their sides, and two leather boxes on their belts. These 
 leather boxes were their ammunition wagons, which they had to 
 carry. 
 
 Well, I got my new suit of blue with big brass buttons on it 
 and I thought I was a little bigger than Mart Scott, my old bull 
 boss. After I was dressed up they took me down to where they 
 kept the guns and other accoutrements. So they fitted me out 
 with a gun, saber, revolver and boxes which were attached to 
 my belt, and then I had to go down to drill with the gun and 
 next came the saber exercises for about one hour each half day. 
 
 Say, that was lots of work for me, for I got a little rest 
 when I was on the plains. There you could do as you pleased, but 
 a soldier could not. Well, what is a soldier? Why is there a 
 calaboose ? Doggone meeting any commissioned officer, you had 
 
26 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 to salute him. But the non-commissioned officers stayed in 
 quarters or tents with the privates, so you see a poor private 
 had no chance at all, and if you went into battle and came out 
 victorious the private did the work and the big officers got the 
 praise. 
 
 Old Colonel Shivington was colonel of the 1st Colorado 
 Cavalry. Winecoop was major. Old General Miles and General 
 Croak were the commanding officers of the armies west of the 
 Missouri River, and We had orders one afternoon to be ready to 
 march on the following day. 
 
 But where to we did not know. "All ready!" We started 
 southwest. All of us were filled with wonderment as to what 
 was going to happen. 
 
 So on we went until we reached Pueblo, just north of Pike's 
 Peak, and from Pueblo we went to old Ft. Union, New Mexico, 
 and then on down to Patche Canyon, which canyon empties into 
 the Rio Grande River, and when we were about half way down 
 the canyon to our surprise we met the Johnnies and greasers and 
 Indians. 
 
 But we met them in a way that was not pleasant at all. 
 Just before we met them we were ordered to load and be ready 
 for action at a moment's notice. Say, I thought we were fixing 
 for a horse race. Well, it turned out to be a race. Later on in a 
 short time we got orders to fire so we went to shooting and after 
 firing a few wallops we were ordered to dismount and advance 
 on foot. 
 
 Well, that meant going up hill business for me, as I had to 
 carry all my accoutrements, about forty pounds of weight, and I 
 was not used to making a pack mule of myself. After we had 
 advanced about one fourth of a mile the enemies' fire became so 
 heavy we could not go any further, so we kept on shooting and 
 hiding behind rocks and using them for breastworks. This was 
 in the morning and we held our ground until about three o'clock 
 in the afternoon, when the Johnnies charged on us.. Soon I was 
 lying there \\'ith two holes or gun shots in my left leg and we 
 got orders to fall back. But I could not go. Away they went 
 and I was left there alone. But I found out later on there were 
 more men than me that were' wounded and could not retreat. 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 27 
 
 Here came the Johnnies hollering and shooting, so I thought I 
 would turn over on my stomach and lay still. 
 
 I turned over on my stomach and as they went over me 
 one of their horses stepped on my right leg just below the knee 
 and broke it. I thought I was dead at that moment. But I 
 think I screamed a little, but nobody seemed to notice it, and I 
 was glad that they didn't. 
 
 If those greasers had known of my trouble they would 
 have helped me out of it. I was lucky as all of them passed over 
 me, leaving our dead boys. On they went and were gone till 
 about ten o'clock the next day when all at once back they came. 
 
 They came back faster than they had gone the day before. 
 
 But it was quite a trial to lay there from four P. M. till the 
 next day at 10 and you cant' imagine how a fellow feels, there 
 alone and not within reach of any of the boys. None of the boys 
 were closer than two rods of me. My father was of late years a 
 Methodist minister and I had learned some of his prayers. So 
 during the night I would pray and then I would swear, then I 
 would cry, then I wished I was back in old Missouri. 
 
 When our boys came up, some stopped and began to care for 
 the wounded, while the rest kept on after the Mexican devils. Our 
 boys drove the most of the Mexicans into the Rio Grande and I 
 heard about one-third of them were drowned. Some of the rest 
 got across and some were taken prisoners. All of the wounded 
 boys were put in an ambulance and on stretchers and taken to a 
 big tent which had been fixed up for a hospital. Two members 
 of my cavalry outfit were there helping the doctor and when the 
 doctor came to me he said, "Why, you little devil, you will have 
 to have your leg cut off." And Bill Dermit, one of the corporals 
 of my company, was there, and I said: "Bill, don't you let him 
 cut my leg off." "Well, I won't," said Bill, and when it came 
 my turn to be butchered Bill said : "Say, Doctor, just put splints 
 on Harmon's leg and let it go." 
 
 "All right," said the doctor, "I will, and let the little devil 
 die ; he is in good shape for it." 
 
 He put on the splints and everything was quiet once more, 
 but there were quite a few of us restless, and chuck full of pain. 
 Next we were taken to Fort Union, and there we stayed till we 
 
28 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 were able to again go on duty. It was the next spring before I 
 fully recovered. 
 
 Oh say ! Those little Mexican women were dandy nurses. 
 
 They would wait on you and chat and roll your cigarettes. 
 I wish I could have lain in that big tent till now. And when fully 
 recovered I was sent to Bent's old fort on the Arkansas River, 
 east of Pike's Peak. I was pretty thin but I soon got stout and 
 hearty from eating sow belly and hard tack. We were soon or- 
 dered back to old Ft. Cottonwood. 
 
 There we stayed for a long spell and every once in a while 
 someone would come into the fort and report about some outfit 
 being captured by the Indians, where the men were killed and 
 scalped and women and small children taken prisoners. 
 
 One evening at the four o'clock roll call general orders came 
 to send at least a detachment of one hundred soldiers and wag- 
 ons enough to carry thirty days' rations and three hundred 
 rounds of ammunition to each soldier. 
 
 And take a doctor and his supply of medicine and start 
 southeast from Denver towards the headwaters of the Republican 
 River and also Smoky Hill River. 
 
 We started out and traveled for two days. The second day 
 along late in the afternoon, we were going up a long slope or 
 rise, and the wind was in our face. Just then I smelled smoke 
 from an Indian camp fire and I said to my "bunkie," George 
 Wiggly, "Say, George, I smell the smoke of an Indian camp." 
 
 "What was that?" said Mike Ivory. "Why, Jakie says he 
 smells Indians." "He is sure crazy, he hasn't had his right mind 
 since the Mexican women nursed him." 
 
 On we went to the top of the hill and down into the valley 
 below about a mile, and we saw Indians going in all directions- 
 We hurried up to get down where they were, but before we could 
 get there they were all gone but one Indian. 
 
 We saw him in a draw, just a few hundred yards off, and 
 one of the boys, Curly Hill, asked permission to go and capture 
 him. Securing permission he started. At that time my Indian 
 was just over a big bank that was on one side of the draw, and 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 29 
 
 Curly rode along where he had seen the Indian, but he was not 
 there. 
 
 And as Curly was riding along the bank and being higher 
 than the Indian he passed Mr. Indian and just then the Indian 
 began pouring the arrows. One went through his left side and 
 two more struck his horse before he could get out of reach of 
 them. 
 
 About that time we all went to get Mr. Indian, but he was 
 gone. 
 
 We then caught sight of him running out of the draw about 
 one mile from us. So he got away with the rest of them. 
 
 They left their camping outfit and the most of their dogs 
 with us. With the Indians all gone we felt pretty brave, when we 
 knew there was no danger. 
 
 So as we came on this vacated Indian camp we went through 
 the teepees, while the doctor fixed up Curly and left him in an 
 ambulance. 
 
 Then we struck north to the South Platte River, and on going 
 through the teepees we found buffalo robes, mocassins and 
 squaw's dresses made of buckskin and covered over the breast 
 with elks' teeth. 
 
 We also found some white scalps, which were not dry as yet. 
 We got about 1,000 pounds of dried buffalo meat, which is very 
 nice to eat. 
 
 And when we struck the Platte we started towards Denver 
 again. But when we got to Julesburg, to old Bovee's ranch, he 
 had all kinds of whisky and bitters, and I having two buffalo 
 robes which I had got at the Indian camp, when the officers 
 were not looking, I slipped my robes in the back door and traded 
 them for a pint of whisky. 
 
 . There is a lot of difference between the times of '63 and the 
 present day. 
 
 Away we went, back to Denver, Colo., or old Ft. Cottonwood, 
 and were there only one week, when we had orders to go again. 
 
 And on getting- a o-uide from Pueblo by the name of Joe 
 Bralto we were ready to travel. 
 
30 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 This time we had orders from headquarters to go across the 
 country to old Ft. Larnard in Kansas, on the Arkansas River, a 
 distance of several hundred miles, and this Joe Bralto was our 
 guide. 
 
 Joe was half Mexican and half Ogallala Sioux and a bad 
 one at that, which you will find out in the near future. And once 
 on the trail we had a good time hunting Indians. We would 
 travel for two or three days and then we would lay over a day 
 or two. 
 
 Until late one afternoon away off to our right we saw about 
 10 or 15 Indians. 
 
 And Lieutenant Ayers said to Joe : "What does that mean ?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Joe. 
 
 This Lieutenant Ayers was First Lieutenant and he was in 
 charge of us. 
 
 Lieutenant Phillips was second lieutenant. Our old Captain 
 Sola Was too brave to hunt Indians, so he stayed at Ft. Cotton- 
 wood. 
 
 "Say," says Joe, "If you will let about six of the boys go 
 out with me I will go and have a talk with those Indians and find 
 out what they want." 
 
 "All right," Joe was told. "Which of you boys will volun- 
 teer to go with Joe out to see those redskins ?" 
 
 "I for one," I spoke up, and there were soon eight of us ready 
 to go with him. 
 
 When we got down to the Indians they all said: "Howcola! 
 Howcola !" 
 
 We stayed about one hour and Joe talked with them, but I 
 think they were planning on how and where they could get all 
 our scalps. 
 
 When we returned to where our boys were camped Joe told 
 Ayers that "the Indians were camped about fifteen miles from 
 there a little east and south," and "when we come over to their 
 camp we would have a talk and if you and them could agree they 
 would go down to Ft. Larnard and get lots to eat and quit killing 
 white people." ^ 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 31 
 
 They said there were about 1,700 people in their camp, but 
 there were only five or six hundred warriors. 
 
 So the next morning on we went and that night we camped 
 on a little creek of nice clear water. There Was some nice tim- 
 ber on this stream. In the morning we moved on until the 
 middle of the afternoon, and on coming to a nice spring of water 
 we had passed the place where the Indians had camped, but they 
 were not there, and when we found out that they were gone we 
 thought there was something wrong, and sure enough there 
 was. 
 
 "Say, Joe," says Ayers, "what do you think the Indians 
 mean by not doing as they agreed?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," said Joe. 
 
 "What is the matter mth you, Joe ? You look like you have 
 lost some of your best friends." 
 
 "Say, Lieutenant," said Joe, "I didn't sleep much last night." 
 
 "That's is it, then," replied the officer. "Well, I guess we 
 will pull on for Ft. Larnard." 
 
 "Say, Lieutenant, there is a buffalo crossing down the river 
 about four miles where we can cross. Of course we have to cross 
 so we can go southeast to get to Larnad." 
 
 Oh ! say, horror came to us that day. 
 
 Down the river we went about three or four miles and 
 crossed over. There were sixteen of us in the advance guard and 
 as soon as we were all across our squad galloped ahead to a posi- 
 tion about a. half mile in advance of the wagons, and the rest 
 of the boys followed up. 
 
 Joe led us into a draw with high hills on each side and we 
 were going along not thinking of any Indians being within 100 
 miles of us. This draw was about three miles long and from fifty 
 to seventy-five yards wide. 
 
 And just as our squad got out of the head of the draw on 
 the prairie, there lay three buffalo killed, with one half of the 
 hide taken off and the round steak cut off of one hind quarter. 
 Some of the boys said: "There are Indian signs." "Yes," said 
 some of the others, "I would like to see some of the red devils." 
 
 And it wasn't two minutes till they got their wishes ful- 
 
32 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 filled, and of all the screaming and hollering you ever heard, it 
 was then and there. 
 
 Phillips says: "About wheel!" and of course we obeyed the 
 order and back we went towards the wagons, right down the 
 draw where, just a little while before we had ridden along, not 
 thinking of fighting in such a short time. 
 
 Well, it was just like riding through a herd of Texas cattle. 
 I sure thought the world was coming to an end and that it was 
 near at hand. 
 
 And as I looked around I thought all the Indians had turned 
 to some kind of a bird as all of them had a big bunch of feathers 
 on their heads and some tied on their ponies, and on they came 
 until they got so thick that we could not get through. Phillips 
 said : "Boys, dismount and get behind your horses and use them 
 for breastworks." 
 
 So we did and the redskins came thicker and thicker, and we 
 stayed there for maybe ten minutes, v/hen Phillips said : "Mount 
 your horses and get to the wagons if you can." 
 
 Well, we had about four hundred yards to go. 
 
 Just as we were mounting our horses the Indians came down 
 on us like flies on an old cow. 
 
 And just as we mounted, there was an Indian who ran a 
 spear through my "bunky," Geo. Wiggley, and he fell off of his 
 horse backward and we left six of our boys, eight there out of six- 
 teen, and if you ever saw a lad scared it was me. I would have 
 given half of my life to have been home again. 
 
 However, once at the wagons we found that a good many of 
 the boys had been killed. So we fought there for about three 
 hours. This was on the Smoky Hill River, which runs through 
 Nebraska and Kansas. 
 
 Our guide, Joe Bralto, was thought to have been killed when 
 the Indians first attacked us, or he fell \nth the rest of the boys. 
 But Joe was very treacherous. 
 
 You will see later on that he was ney^e'r hurt and he was 
 not treated kindly. 
 
 After staying and fighting there for about three hours 
 Mike Ivory, one of our sergeants, says to Ayers: "Say, Lieu- 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 33 
 
 tenant, hadn't we better get out of this draw? If we don't the 
 redskins will kill all of us." 
 
 "Well, Sergeant," said Ayers, "I think that is good advice." 
 So Ayers gave his command and on we started, working our way 
 up the draw. 
 
 We progressed within fifty yards of where my bunky was 
 and the other five. And George raised up with the assistance of 
 one hand and hollered out: "Boys! Come and get me!" But the 
 Indians were so thick that we had all we wanted to do to make 
 our own escape good. We were looking after those who were 
 able to ride and shoot, and when we were finally back on the 
 level prairie where we first seen the buffalo v/e had only about 
 half of our men left. When we passed my bunky I had seen 
 m.any of our boys dead. It was a horrible sight. And George, as 
 I last saw him, was all covered with blood, where the Indians 
 had scalped him. And he wanted us to come and get him. After 
 we had passed along a couple of hundred yards I was still watch- 
 ing him and saw an Indian knock him in the head with his toma- 
 hawk, and I said to myself: "Good by, Bunky." George Wiggley 
 was my second bunky. 
 
 My first bunky was killed in Patche canyon. New Mexico. 
 His name was Chas. Hepple. He was our company bugler, and a 
 mighty fine lad. 
 
 You have often heard it related that a person could whip 
 ten or fifteen Indians. Well, I will tell you from my own expe- 
 rience, and I have had more experience than I ever want to en- 
 counter again, that if you take a good repeating rifle and you get 
 on the prairie or in some secreted place, you can stand off from 
 ten-to fifteen Indians, but if you take it in the hills or where the 
 country is rough, one Indian is as good if not better than a white 
 in an. 
 
 Of course the Indian is as a general rule not brave, unless 
 Ihey are about ten to one. There are Indians here in South Da- 
 kota now on the Lower Brule reservation and the Rosebud res- 
 ervation, I have been in a good many Indian fights, and will give 
 you some of the names of Indians on these two reservations. The 
 bravest chief that ever rode a horse was old Spotted Tail. He 
 was a heavy set Indian and weighed about 180 pounds and was a 
 
THE C O W B O Y SC OIJ T 35 
 
 good fighter. And everybody has heard of old Sitting Bull; he 
 ■was a smart Indian and would tell his men just how to capture 
 a Mormon train or to stampede a herd of bulls and leave the 
 whackers on foot. 
 
 But as to his being a brave chief, all I can say is that he 
 was not. 
 
 Another brave chief is old Spotted Horse. At the present 
 time there is a policeman at the Lower Brule agency, and a cow- 
 aid as a warrior, who is called old Buck Antelope. 
 
 Another brave warrior is Crooked Foot, and also Long Piiie, 
 and old Noga, and Punca. He has only one eye, the other being 
 shot out in Custer's massacre on the Little Big Horn, in Wyo- 
 ming. It was too bad he didn't get his head shot off. All these 
 Indians were warriors from the latter part of '62 to '65. I will 
 mention more of these fellows later on. 
 
 Well, as one half of our force had been killed we felt pretty 
 badly. As soon as we got out far enough from the hills to where 
 it was level we stopped to talk things over and take in the situa- 
 tion. What to do we did not know ; we found we were fifty-five 
 men short, and that many horses and guns short besides four of 
 our six mule teams, and also the grub and ammunition which 
 had been in the wagons. It was a bad looking bunch of Indians 
 who had done the v,-ork, and we knew not which way to go. Of 
 course we had no guide. But we found our guide the next fall. 
 
 After we had taken a good rest on we went and along in the 
 afternoon v/e came within sight of some timber and when we 
 struck the hills along a little stream the Indians came down on 
 us again like a swarm of bees and their sting was much greater. 
 In crossing the stream we all took water in our canteens and on 
 we went till we got to where it was prairie again and there we 
 camped for the night. We found we were ten more men short in 
 our last fight. 
 
 There we corralled what wagons we had left in a small corral 
 and had our horses inside of the corral. There was no time for 
 funny stories. 
 
 Well, Lieutenant Ayers was killed on the bank of the creek 
 and then Lieutenant Phillips was in charge and we only had one 
 sergeant and one corporal as non-commissioned officers left. 
 
36 CRAZY — THEKID 
 
 They were Sergeant Mike Ivory and Corporal Bill Dermint- Phil- 
 lips said : "Sergeant, you put out a chain guard around the wag- 
 ons and have each man lie down and if they see anything coming 
 from the outside shoot without orders." 
 
 Well, that was a long night for us. 
 
 The next morning we had raw pork and hard tack. We then 
 started on our journey once more across the plains. We traveled 
 all forenoon ovej^ a level prairie, so we were not molested with 
 the Indians. We were all do\\Tihearted from losing so many 
 of our boys. We could see the Indians on both sides of us all the 
 forenoon. We estimated them at 3,000, but there were only about 
 2,000 of them. I think they had reinforcements for I knew we 
 had killed at least three hundred of them. When we stopped for 
 dinner they stopped also. 
 
 We saw they were waiting for us to get in that rough coun- 
 try so they could give us another round. And there was surely 
 a sad looking bunch of us. 
 
 Phillips says : ''Boys, don't you think it is a good idea to put 
 our grub and ammunition and the keg of whisky in four or five 
 wagons and leave the rest of our wagons and mules right here. 
 As we have a hilly country ahead of us we don't want any more 
 mules and wagons than we can handle." Mike Ivory held next 
 high officer rank under Phillips, so it was agreed. 
 
 We were to load everything we could into four wagons. Din- 
 ner over, we were started again. This being the last day the 
 Indians followed us. When we got in the hills here came the In- 
 dians again and you would have thought they would have eaten 
 us up alive. But they only shot our boys when they got a chance, 
 and along late in the afternoon we had one wagon left and eight 
 soldiers, or seven besides myself. Mike and Bill, two non-com- 
 missioned officers, were still with us- There were Mike, Bill, 
 Rube, Jim, Husky, Snider, Markles and myself left. We were 
 alive and that was about all you could say for us. 
 
 I suppose if I had been worth killing I would have fallen 
 with the rest. I was only hurt, a little. And I will explain to 
 you how it happened. You see when we stopped to rest at noon I 
 lay down under a wagon and a stray bullet came along and 
 struck a spoke in the wagon wheel, knocking off a splinter, 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 
 
 and it struck me on the eye lid. You ought to have heard me 
 yelL It was worse than the Indians. And Mike came and said: 
 "CrsLzy. are you hurt?" "Yes, ^Mike," I said, "right in the eye." 
 Take down your hand. Crazy, and let me see how badly you are 
 hurt," and on removing my hand Mike laughed: "\^liy. Crazy, 
 you are not hurt at aU." and on looking I saw that the blood I 
 thought was running out of my eye was only tears. 
 
 And I took my handkerchief and in a half day or so was all 
 right and still possess my eye. 
 
 "WeU, boys, what will we do ?" said Mike. He was an officer 
 and we were supposed to obey his orders. "WeU»" says BiU Der- 
 mit, "I think we had better put some more raw pork and hard 
 tack in our saddle bags, and take all the cartridges we can carry 
 and strike out on horseback." 
 
 "Say. Snider, you take an ax or a hanmier and knock in the 
 head of that whisky keg." We were all on hand and we were 
 not long in filling our canteens ■with the precious com juice until 
 : ran out. 
 
 We started again and on looking behind we again saw the 
 Indians in hot pursuit. 
 
 WeiL we got on level ground once more, ^^'e made a stand 
 
 or life or death and while we were standing there the Lord 
 
 favored us with a surprise. It began raining pretty hard, and 
 
 ■fhe Indians had mostly bows and arrows. The rain made the 
 
 ow strings stretch so they could not use them. 
 
 It was impossible for them to continue fighting, so they 
 quit us cold and of course we had no objections to their quit- 
 ting, and at last night came and we camped. Mike said: "Boys, 
 you can lay down on the ground and hold your horses; and be 
 ready at a moment's notice to fight or to run." So there we laj" 
 all night long with no sleep. About sun up it appeared as if 
 the sun was in the north and we were all at a stand stiH as to 
 ■which way we wanted to go to get to Lamed, and none of us 
 knew the way. So we traveled till about noon and ca,me to a 
 small stream of water. We were pretty wet and chilly so "we 
 built up a fire and roasted some of our pork and hard tack and 
 drank water to our fiU. 
 
38 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 . "Say, Bill, do you know anything about the direction we 
 would have to take to get to Larnad?" "No, Mike, I don't." 
 "What do you say. Rube?" "I know we are here among the hills 
 and that is all, and if we don't get out where we can get some- 
 thing to eat we will starve." "Say, Sergeant," I said: "I can 
 travel any direction you want to go." "Hold on there, Crazy, you 
 little fool, don't you suppose any of us men can tell directions as 
 well as you can?" "Look here, Husky, if you had night herded 
 as many nights as I have and learned the stars as I have you 
 could travel any direction after nightfall as well as you 
 can in the day time, if you could see the stars plainly." "What 
 stars do you know, Crazy?" they next queried. "Well," I said, 
 "the seven stars and the ellenyard and Job's coffin and the Big 
 Dipper and the North Star and Evening Star and the Morning 
 Star." 
 
 "Hold on," saj\s Snider, "you have named more stars than 
 there are in the heavens." 
 
 "Say, Mike," says Jim, "maybe Crazy can tell us something. 
 Well, boys, we will all but one lay down and sleep till after dark 
 and if it is clear so we can see the stars we will take Crazy for 
 our new guide." "Well," I said, "Mike, what direction do you 
 want to go?" "We want to travel southeast," he said. And 
 when we were ready the stars shone brightly. 
 
 I showed Mike the North Star. "Now you see, we want to 
 go right in this direction, and we will be going southeast." 
 
 "Ha! Ha!" said Bill, "Crazy is not as big a fool as he is 
 fool looking." But the thing that troubled me most was where 
 we were going to get something to eat. And we had a little 
 trouble in the rough land. But we got along fine and we began 
 to look for a suitable place to camp or spend the day, and this 
 being the second day we were getting pretty hungry. And we 
 had nothing to eat but hard tack and Markles only had one left. 
 
 We camped in a deep draw that day out of sight. We cracked 
 jokes all day except what time we were asleep. We did not all 
 of us sleep at one time, because life was too precious at that 
 time. 
 
 "Well, Husky, how do you like life in the far West?" "Oh, 
 
TH E C O VV B O Y S C O UT 39 
 
 darn such a life, I believe it would have been a blessing if we 
 had all been killed on Smoky Hill with the rest of the boys." 
 
 At sun down we were all feeling good. But we were grieving 
 over having no more provisions, and where we were we knew 
 not. About eight-thirty we started on again till about mid- 
 night when we stopped and grazed our horses for an hour or 
 so ; then we moved on again till the next sun. Again we camped 
 for the day. Our horses were nearly tired out by this time, and 
 in about an hour after we stopped Dermit saw some antelope 
 and he made up his mind to get some, so he, with gun in hand, 
 started towards them. They disappeared over a large hill 
 about a half mile in the distance, but Bill was in hot pursuit of 
 them and when he came to the top of the hill, to his suiT)rise he 
 saw in the distance what looked like smoke from about twenty 
 teepees, and he came running back to where we were. 
 
 I was watching him and when I saw him running I said to 
 the rest of the boys that I thought the Indians were after Bill, 
 and at that the boys got their guns and we were ready for action. 
 Just then Bill came running up and reported what he had wit- 
 nessed. 
 
 You would have thought that he had used a peck of talcum 
 powder on his face. "Say, fellows, I saw a big Indian camp down 
 in that valley about two and a half or three miles from here, 
 and what in the world shall we do, Mike?" "Say," says Jim Mc- 
 Donald, "we had better pray." Said Jim Snider: "You had 
 better lead in prayer." McDonald said: "Jim, you shut up. This 
 is very serious." 
 
 "Yes, I know, but cheer up, the worst is yet to come." 
 
 "I am not anxious to see the worst yet," replied Mike. 
 
 Mike said : "Crazy, you can smell Indians so you sneak up to 
 that hill with Husky and see if you can tell how they are lo- 
 cated." 
 
 Away galloped Husky and I and on arriving at the top of 
 the hill we saw smoke in the far distance and we stayed there a 
 while and again returned to camp. 
 
 On arriving Mike says: "What do you think. Crazy?" 
 
 "Well, I will tell you what I think," I said. "I think it is 
 Ft. Larnard and we are nearly at the end of our journey." 
 
40 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 Mike says: "What shall" we do boys, do you think we had 
 better chance it?" "Yes," said Rube, "I would just as leave be 
 shot as starve; my stomach is so lank I am about to lose my 
 clothes." "All right," said Mike, "We will take a chance, we 
 will mount our horses and move on, and there is either one of two 
 things. We will either be happy or sad." "I don't care which," 
 said Markles. 
 
 We mounted and started again over the hill and into the 
 valley and when we were within a half mile of the fort out came 
 the company of the Eleventh Missouri Cavalry to meet us, think- 
 ing us to be Indians. And when they had advanced up to within 
 a quarter of a mile of us we saw who they were and we were 
 surely a happy bunch. Into Ft. Laniard we went. We were 
 given quarters for our horses, then we were sent to a mess room 
 for something to eat, and we did justice to what little grub was 
 set before us, for the fort was short on rations. 
 
 Old Major Kelley, being commanding officer, said he was 
 expecting thirty-six wagons of provisions for his fort, and after 
 hearing Mike's report he said he would send a company of sol- 
 diers down the river and see what they could find out of the 
 wagons that were on the road. So the next morning there was a 
 company getting ready. And I said to Husky, my bunky, "Let 
 us go with the boys," and he said if I would get permission he 
 would go, so I asked Mike and he said we could. 
 
 So along we went with the company. We started down the 
 Arkansas River in the direction of Ft. Riley, Kansas. We camped 
 for dinner and as soon as it was over we started down the river 
 and at about 4 P. M. we came in sight of the wjagons and as we 
 approached them we could see that there was no one with them, 
 not even a mule. And as we were riding along just a little ways 
 from the wagons, we began to find some of the teamsters who 
 lay dead and scalped, and as soon as we could hitch our horses 
 to the wagon wheels we began to look around in the grass, as 
 it was very tall, and there we found one after another all of the 
 boys that belonged to the outfit. 
 
 When we were hunting around Ihey would holler out: "Here 
 is another," and when we got to the hind wagon of the corral 
 there lay one poor fellow on an old sheepskin and some of the 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 41 
 
 hoys says: "Here is another under the wagon," and just then he 
 raised himself up on his elbow and said : "But I am not dead," and 
 to be sure it was an awful sight to see the little fellow sit up, 
 with all the hide, hair and scalp gone off his head and covered 
 with blood, and with eight arrows still stuck in him. We pulled 
 out the arrows, which he was too weak to do himself, then we 
 placed him in an ambulance. Then the doctor went to dressing 
 his wounds and cutting the arrow points out of his flesh, and, 
 after the doctor had fixed up his head he revived and told us 
 all about the Indians and how they came on to them and killed 
 the outfit and drove off the mules. Well, what could we do, all 
 the mules were gone and the harness cut to pieces. The captain 
 in charge sent tv/enty-five of the boys back to Ft. Larnard for 
 mule teams enough to haul the wagons in. 
 
 When the boys returned with mules the captain made mule 
 whackers out of some of the soldier boys. Well, most of them 
 made good mule whackers for they wer^ from Mdssouri, as they 
 belonged to the Eleventh Missouri Cavalry. When we again ar- 
 rived at the fort our scalped boy was taken to the hospital where 
 he received treatment until he was well. 
 
 Our squad consisting of eight men was sent up to Old Fort 
 Lyons on the Arkansas River and from there we were sent 
 hack to old Ft. Cottonwood at Denver, Colo. There we joined our 
 old company and new recruits were taken in till we had about 
 ninety men and non-commissioned officers. 
 
 And we were ready for business once more. Then four com- 
 panies of my regiment were sent down to Pueblo and while we 
 were there news came in that the pony express and mail had been 
 held up and robbed. The government offered five thousand dol- 
 lars for the robbers or murderers. Well, old Kit Carson took the 
 job of hunting the outlaws. He took some grub and ammuni- 
 tion and started out, and was gone four days and when he re- 
 turned he had a man's and boy's head in a sack. Now the outlaw 
 and his son had been killing and robbing people for about two 
 years and they could never catch them. So the government of- 
 fered this large reward for them dead or alive. 
 
 I will describe Kit Carson so if any of the readers of this 
 book have ever seen him they will know whether this little state- 
 
42 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 ment is true or not. He was a small man, about five feet eight, and 
 vrould weigh about 135 pounds, dark hair, aild keen black eyes, 
 and a little hump shouldered. He was the best shot in the west. 
 
 He could discount Wild Bill or Bill Cody. 
 
 Kit had no equal in sharpshooting. After Kit got the two 
 heads into Pueblo there was<fno one there that knew or could 
 recognize old Kit's two parcels. So I was sent with a dispatch 
 down to Ft. Lyons after old John Smith, as he had been in the 
 west a great many years and was Indian interpreter for the gov- 
 ernment and was acquainted with Gringo and his son. I deliver- 
 ed my dispatch to John and he said he would be ready the next 
 morning. 
 
 So in the morning we pulled out for Pueblo and on arriving 
 he was told what they wanted of him. And he said, "Well, Kit, 
 have you killed old Gringo and his son?" His reply was that 
 "he had." "I had an awful hard time to locate him. Well, John, 
 you know where the head of the Cross Pine Canyon is, south- 
 west of Pueblo, 60 to 75 miles, don't you?" "Yes," said Smith. 
 
 Cross Pine Canyon was so-called because it had long pines 
 fallen across it in tangled form, making it impossible for anyone 
 to get across it or up it on horse back. Carson had to crawl up 
 it about four miles, under this tangle of trees. Gringo and the 
 boy were camped near the head under a rocky ledge, or part 
 cave. He could not find them in surrounding country and lo- 
 cated them by watching a buzzard soaring above them for about 
 two hours. The buzzard was smelling their cooking and refuse 
 of camp. Carson found $60,000 in Gringo's camp that he never 
 turned over to express companies. He gave old John Smith $500 
 for whisky money. Also set his adopted son (Bill Drennon), up 
 in business. Drennon was picked up in St. Louis when a boy of 
 12, as a street waif. 
 
 Bill Drennon was a noted Indian killer. In two years' time 
 he killed at least seventy-five Indians. It is reported that he 
 had a history of himself written. Last heard of he was in Mon- 
 tana. He was rustling cattle and horses from the Indians. Got 
 rich. 
 
 Gringo had long, black hair and a long black beard- Dark 
 complexioned, he was very ferocious looking. No one ever knew 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 43 
 
 where he came from. His boy was 18 or 19 years old. Had a 
 smooth face, good looking, and had black hair. 
 
 John Smith was a government interpreter. Got $5.00 a day, 
 work or no work. (Booze fighter.) 
 
 To return to our story. "Well," said Kit, "that is where 
 I found them. They were cooking supper and it was just 
 at dusk. I made sure of the old man first. Because I thought 
 if it came hand-to-hand with the boy I could get him anyway. 
 But they didn't fire a shot, so you see I had everything my own 
 way." "Well, say. Kit, where are your souvenirs?" 
 
 "They are out here in the corral. We will go and see 
 old Gringo's smiling face." "All right, come on," and away they 
 went to the corral, where Kit Carson pulled the two heads out 
 of the sack. 
 
 "Say, Kit," said Smith, "you never washed their faces. And 
 you must have had quite a fight with him from the looks of the 
 blood. Ha! Ha! Kit!" 
 
 Smith recognized the old man and his son and Kit got part 
 of his money then. "Say, John, come over to the Sutter store 
 and we will take a drink on our good luck." "Sure, boy," and 
 over they went and took one and then another and so on till 
 ihey were not able to take any more. This is all I know of Kit 
 Carson. There are lots of dime novels about Kit, but some of 
 them are false. 
 
 There wasn't much Indian trouble now, but on the plains 
 there was train after train of Mormons killed and scalped. We 
 hadn't much duty to do at Pueblo and were getting fat and or- 
 ders finally came- one day from Miles for our four companies 
 to go down to Ft. Lyons, and the next day we were on the march. 
 We stayed there all winter, or the rest of the winter, and in the 
 spring we were cut up into squads of thirty and scattered along 
 old Ben Holliday's stage line, or overland mail route, which ran 
 from the states through to Colorado, New Mexico, Oregon, Wyo- 
 ming, Utah, California and Montana, and to all points west of 
 the Missouri River. Old Ben had stage stations where he could 
 change horses. They were about fifty miles apart. The thirty 
 of us would go from one station to another as guards. We would 
 go up with the stage one day, and back the next. The drivers 
 
44 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 would change every 150 miles. The squad I was in had our old 
 sergeant and the old boys. Oh, say, but we had the devil's own 
 time. It was fine to get out and ride 50 miles. 
 
 Well, we stayed with Ben Holliday's stage till September in 
 '64. And at that time the Indians were at their worst all through 
 the west. 
 
 One day as we were going out with the coach about our 
 last trip, we were nearly straight west of Ft. Lyons, about ten 
 miles. We saw three Indians about one mile to our right, stand- 
 ing on a little hill. Our sergeant, Mike Ivory, halted the stage 
 coach and soldiers and we began to hold council, whether to go 
 on or not. We could see only those three and one of them rode 
 out towards us and waved his blanket in the air as though he 
 wanted somebody to come up to him. I said, "Mike, he wants 
 some of us to come up there." "Well," said Mike, "Crazy, don't 
 you want the job?" "I will go Mike, if you say so." "All right," 
 replied Mike, "go right ahead. You little fool, go and get your 
 scalp taken off, then you will be satisfied." 
 
 Away I went and as soon as I had left the coach and the 
 Indian saw m^e coming, he started toward me and we met about 
 half way from where he was to the coach. On approaching him 
 I threw my gun down across my left arm and at the same time 
 cocked it. When we were about twenty feet apart I said "Stop !" 
 and I stopped my horse, and the Indian, said "How*" "I don't 
 want none of your howing," I said, "but what do you want?" 
 
 He said he didn't understand. Again I asked him what he 
 wanted. And I guess he mistook me for a Mexican, for he said 
 "I want to see the Comon Dentie." That is "commanding offi- 
 cer" in the Mexican tongue. "All right, old boy," I replied, and 
 motioned him toward the coach and told him to hurry up. On he 
 started, and we got there in due time. The boys were waiting 
 on us. When we got there the sergeant asked him what he 
 wanted. He said in English as good as he could speak "I want 
 to see Big Chief at Ft. Lyons." "All right, Mike, turn the coach 
 around and we will go back." And then the Indian held up two 
 fingers and from what we could" understand he wanted two In- 
 dians to go with him. The sergeant said for him to go and 
 bring them down. So away he went out a little ways and waved 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 45 
 
 his blanket and here came a buck and a squaw, as fast as their 
 ponies could bring them, and when they got to us we started 
 back to the fort, and when we got there we took the pets to head- 
 quarters. To Major Winecoop we took them, as he was com- 
 manding officer at the fort. Again we started with the coach 
 lor old Fort Benton up the river, and when we returned the next 
 day we found out they wanted to make a treaty and come into 
 the fort and live peaceably. 
 
 Of course the fort had an interpreter in old John Smith, 
 whom I have mentioned before. They had a long talk with this 
 old Indian. He was a big chief of the Cheyennes. His name was 
 One-Eye, and the young chief with him was Mininick. The 
 young squaw with them was not his only squaw, for he had two 
 more. After they came to an agreement with the major they 
 were at peace. 
 
 I think it was the fourth day after they had come to the 
 fort when we received orders that one hundred and fifty of us 
 were to be ready to march the next noon. To where none of us 
 knew, but we started north and east from Ft. Lyons and we 
 traveled in that direction for three days and on the fourth day 
 late in the afternoon all at once there were squads of Indians 
 all around us, but at a distance. Just what it meant we didn't 
 know, but some of the new recruits said^they wished they could 
 get within gun range. "Yes," said Jim McDonald, "you would 
 be getting out of gun range if you could." 
 
 "Old One Eye talked with John Smith a little while and John 
 Smith said to our Major, "Old One Eye wants to go out and tell 
 his Indians to go home and come back tomorrow and you can 
 talk with them." 
 
 "Well, John," says Winecoop, "you tell him he can go out 
 and tell them and if he don't come back right away we will kill 
 Mininick and his young squaw," and away he went and he got 
 out to where a large squad of them were. I think he said 
 but a few words and started back to where we were, and in- 
 side of twenty minutes you could not see an Indian anywhere. 
 It appeared as though they had all sunk into the ground. And 
 when One Eye returned he told our major that the soldiers 
 would have to drive about six miles on and camp along a creek, 
 
46 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 and that all the bucks would come in and have a big talk with 
 Big Chief Winecoop. 
 
 The next day when they began to come in you would have 
 thought that all the Indians from all the territories had arrived. 
 
 Of course there was a chain guard put out around our wag- 
 ons and horses. We let no Indians inside, except those that 
 old One Eye said to let in. 
 
 And we stayed there two days talking and eating. You 
 take the Indians and they are great people to eat. They can eat 
 more and oftener than any other nation in the world. 
 
 And at last they came to turns with the major. They, the 
 Indians, were going to give up foiir white prisoners, and told us 
 to go back about twelve miles and camp there till 11 o'clock the 
 •next day and they would bring in two prisoners to us. 
 
 So we went there and camped and the next day the Indians 
 brought in two children, a girl and a boy. I will say right here 
 that they looked like two Indian children as they were ragged 
 and dirty and all painted up. Then we had to make another 
 move and camp in a different place on a little creek. Then they 
 were to bring in one more prisoner, and they did so. They 
 brought in a boy about nine years old. Then we had to make 
 another move and they were to bring in the last prisoner, which 
 proved to be a young woman. I will give you the children's 
 names. The little girl and little boy w'ere brother and sister. 
 Their names were Eubanks, and they were from Council Bluffs, 
 Iowa. The nine-year-old boy's name was Daniel Marble, also 
 from Council Bluffs, Iowa. Daniel Marbles and the Eubanks 
 were cousins. Their fathers and mothers were moving west, 
 with mule teams, and they were captured on South Platte River 
 west of Ft. Carney by the Indians and their fathers killed and 
 scalped right before their eyes. I will tell you more about their 
 mothers later on. 
 
 As to the young woman whom the Indians gave to us, her 
 name was Laura Rooper, and she was captured on the Little Blue 
 River southeast of old Ft. Carney. Her father and uncle lived 
 on this river in the state of Nebraska and their residence was 
 about a mile and a half apart. One day she had been down to 
 her uncle's, visiting, and on her way home in the evening she 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 47 
 
 was captured and put on a pony. When she was put on the 
 pony, her feet were tied together under the pony's belly, and she 
 was forced to ride tied fast to this pony until daybreak the next 
 morning. Then the Indians hid in a big draw and there they 
 tortured her almost to death with their fiendish ways. Don't 
 think I am a lover of the Indians. 
 
 Well, after we got our fourth prisoner or when they brought 
 in the young woman, all of the Indians came along, about eigh- 
 teen hundred in all, and we started back to old Ft. Lyons. 
 
 The boy, Dan as we called him, wanted to ride behind some 
 of the boys on their horses. My late "bunky," Husky, said: 
 "Dan, you come and ride behind me this afternoon," and as we 
 were riding along Dan yelled out: "Say, soldiers, there is one 
 of my papa's mules that Indian is riding and I believe he is the 
 Indian who cut all the hide and hair off of my papa's head and 
 tied a rope around my mama's arms." 
 
 But at last we went into camp and on the second day I spied 
 an Indian I thot I knew, and after getting a good look at him I 
 found him to be Joe Bralto, the old guide who led us into the 
 trap on Smoky Hill River. So I spied him out and I told Bill 
 Dermit that I saw Joe Bralto out there in the Indian camp, and 
 he said that I was crazier than ever. I said, "Bill, I can show 
 him to you." 
 
 "Say, Mike, hear what Crazy Bill says." "What is it, Bill?" 
 "He says he saw Joe Bralto among the Indians. You come and 
 show me Joe, and I will give you a five dollar bill." "All right, 
 Mike," I said, "you follow me and I -will prove what I said." 
 
 So we started out and we soon came onto Joe. "There he 
 is," I said, "on that roan pony." "By gory, that is Joe. Haven't 
 I got a right to put a hole through his heart?" Mike's blood 
 was sure boiling. 
 
 We returned to the ranks, and took our places and that eve- 
 ning the eight of us old boys had a talk with the major about 
 Joe, who once was our supposedly faithful guide, but who led us 
 into the jaw^ of death, and there were now but eight of us left 
 out of one hundred and fifteen. 
 
 How to get even with him we did not know, and on we went 
 
48 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 to Ft. Lyons, and the eight of us were going to get Joe in our 
 claws one way or another. 
 
 When we arrived at the Fort Major Winecoop had the In- 
 dians go into camp just below our commissary, which was one 
 mile east of the fort, and the Indians drew government rations 
 and went to eating and were very peaceable for about two 
 months and they then began to have war dances and kept it up 
 until it became a nuisance. 
 
 We worked and schemed how to get Joe and one evening 
 Mike called me and said : "Crazy, you come out here." "All 
 right, Mike, what do you want of me?" "Why, Captain Sola 
 wants you to come over to his office." "Why, Mike," I said, "I 
 haven't done anything wrong. I have not missed a roll call." 
 "Well," said he, "that makes no difference. You go over and 
 he will tell you what he wants you to do." 
 
 Well, when I gathered up courage enough to go over to 
 the captain's office I did not know what was going to happen. 
 I walked very slowly. I thought that possibly I would be sent to 
 the guard house. But to my surprise when I got there the cap- 
 tain was in a very good humor and said : "Crazy, take a chair," 
 which I did, and then he continued: "Well, Crazy, I have a very 
 important duty for you to perform, and I want you to do it in a 
 good, soldierly manner." Then he said, "Here is an order to the 
 commissary for two canteens of whisky. Now you go back to 
 your quarters and borrow them of Mike, or some one of the old 
 boys, then put them on your shoulders, and put your over- 
 coat over them. Then go and get them filled. Then go down 
 to the Indian camp and hunt around till you find Joe Bralto. 
 As you used to be a good friend of his, he will trust you. You 
 tell him you have some whisky, and to go with you and you will 
 divide with him. Then you come up the river towards the horse 
 quarters and every once in a while you and him take a drink. 
 But don't you get drunk, 'cause if you do I will put a ball and 
 chain on you." 
 
 Well, I started and in time I found Joe all right, and appeared 
 to be well pleased in finding him. 1 told him of the treasures I 
 had hid under my overcoat. And you should have seen him. He 
 was almost wild over the thought of whisky. 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 49 
 
 I said: "Joe, let us go up the river." He was very willing 
 and consented. The captain had told me that when we got be- 
 tween the horse quarters and the river to wait there for further 
 orders from him. But what was going to happen was a con- 
 undrum to me. Well, as we walked along every little while we 
 would take a little nip. The captain had told me, after we had 
 stopped, to let him have all he wanted to drink. "But don't you 
 drink too much yourself," he had said, "for you know what I 
 have told you, and I, will do it just as sure as you get drunk." 
 
 Well, at last we reached our destination and Joe was pretty 
 talkative, and I wasn't far behind him, but after we arrived I let 
 Joe pour it down and soon he was dead to the world, and I rolled 
 him over and woke him up and had him hit it up again, and 
 again he was soon dead to the world. About midnight I was 
 lying on my side on the ground, about half asleep, when I heard 
 what I thought were footsteps. I thought there was a squad 
 of guards coming. Then there came a familiar voice and it 
 said: "Crazy, where are you?" 
 
 "Right here Mike." "Have you got Joe?" "Yes, he is right 
 here." "All right. Crazy," and up came Mike Ivory, our old. 
 sergeant, and Bill Dermit, our old corporal, and the two non-com- 
 missioned officers who were left out of the squad at Smoky Hill. 
 Benjamin F. Mainard, who we always called "Husky," my late 
 bunky, was there, and Ruben McDanniels, James McDonald, Ray- 
 mond Snider and Chas. Markles. This makes the seven men who 
 were left besides myself out of the massacre. 
 
 And as the boys approached to where Joe and I were. Rube 
 and Jim had a good sized log on their shoulders, and Bill had 
 a long rope in his hand. They laid the log down a while and Bill 
 uncoiled the rope. 
 
 I said to myself, "What is going to happen?" I did not know 
 then, but I soon found out. They picked Joe up and laid him 
 with his back upon the log and then they took the rope and 
 began to tie Joe fast to the log. Well, I thpt that there was no 
 use to tie him, for he was so drunk that he couldn't get away 
 anyhow. But I thought they were tying him so they could 
 scalp him alive. But no, when they had him secure two of the 
 boys, Rube and Jim, pulled off their clothes, and said : "We are 
 
50 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 ready." "All right," said Markles, "take hold there, Husky, you 
 and Snider." They lifted the log, Indian and all, onto Rube and 
 Jim's shoulders and they started into the Arkansas river and 
 wadded out as far as they could, then swam the rest of the 
 way until they reached the middle of the river and there they 
 turned Joe Bralto loose; and he never returned again. And I 
 guess he swam to the Happy Hunting Ground. One thing sure — 
 he never led us into another trap. Joe was half Mexican and 
 half Ogallala Sioux. 
 
 Now, my readers, I will tell you about Mrs. Marble and 
 Mrs. Eubanks. Mrs. Marble hung herself the second night the 
 Indians had her as a prisoner. I suppose she thought she would 
 rather be dead than to be tortured by the redskins. 
 
 She stole one of the Indian's bridles and climbed upon a 
 small tree where the Indians were camped that night and tied 
 one of the reins around a limb and the other around her neck 
 and then jumped off. 
 
 Late in the fall of 1864 there was seven old buck Indians 
 who brought Mrs. Eubanks into Ft. Laramie up in Wyoming 
 and wanted to give her up to the commanding officer of the 
 fort providing he would give them rations to live on that coming 
 winter. Then the commanding officer said: "Bring on your 
 prisoner, I will give you enough to eat to last you all winter and 
 then some. So away the old bucks went and returned down 
 close to "Chimney Rock," which lay southeast of Ft. Laramie. 
 
 They were to return with the prisoner within four days. 
 
 So on the fourth day they came back with Mrs. Eubanks 
 astride a pony and all painted up. She looked tired, forlorn and 
 forsaken and on arriving to where she could see white people 
 once more she fainted, but as soon as she had gained her senses 
 she told how Mrs. Markles had hung herself. Also how the 
 Indians had tortured her. A woman that the Indians captured 
 belonged to the one who captured her; for instance, she has to 
 be his squaw, and they will torture her until she faints away. 
 You often hear people tell how l)ad the whites were to the 
 Indians. But when they brought Mrs. Eubanks in and she 
 told her story to the commanding officer, he looked fierce and 
 you could see his blood boil. Then the Indians went on telling 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 61 
 
 them how good they were to bring her in to where she could 
 live with her people. "Yes, you were awful good," he said. "It 
 is a wonder that the devil has let you live as long as he has." 
 
 Then he told one of the boys to go down to the mess house 
 of Company G and have the cook fix dinner for seven Indian 
 bucks. Then as soon as the bucks were gone he ordered a squad 
 of thirty men. 
 
 He told the cook to fix them a good dinner and all they 
 wanted, because it was to last the Indians all winter and probably 
 
 longer. There was an interpreter we called old "Slack." Well, 
 here he came (old Slack) with the thirty soldiers. On coming in 
 the officer said: "Take a drink. Slack." Then Slack said: 
 "Colonel, what is the matter?" "Well, Slack," the officer replied, 
 "you see the Indians have been acting pretty bad of late, and 
 we have got seven of the worst old bucks here, and I am going 
 to fix them so theywon't trouble anybody else." 
 
 "Have you got your nerve with you, Slack?" "Yes, sir, and 
 a pretty steady nerve too." "Well, take another eye-opener." 
 
 "Well, what can I use my steady nerve for. Colonel?" "Well, 
 it is this way. I have them down there eating their winter's 
 rations and when they get through I will have a teamster to 
 hitch up a six-mule team to one of the big wagons and when we 
 get down by the ford and under that big cottonwood I want you 
 to tie a rope around every one of their necks and onto a limb 
 and when fastened securely I will have the teamster drive out 
 from under them and let them swing to the happy hunting 
 'ground. We will watch them kick their last. Then we will load 
 them all in the wagon and take them over the hill and bury them 
 in that big washout." Everything happened just as it was 
 planned and there were then seven more good Indians. 
 
 Now those Indians who were camped out at Ft. Lyons with 
 whom we made the treaty moved out on Sand Creek and started 
 their depredations again. And our old colonel got tired of it and 
 he took eight companies of our regiment and started out one 
 morning, not telling anyone but our captain where we were go- 
 ing. But on we went till dark, then we camped and had supper 
 and laid down for a peaceful night, but about midnight we were 
 awakened and told to saddle up and mount. Of course our offi- 
 
52 CRAZY — T H E K I D 
 
 cers knew where we were going because we had old John Smith 
 for a guide and there was not a better one in the west. 
 
 So away we went and at daybreak we were divided up into 
 companies. Some of us went to the left and some to the right and 
 some of them straight ahead. And all at once we heard shoot- 
 ing to our right and soon shooting started all over. 
 
 There were three companies on our right and three on our 
 left and two in the middle and one of the left companies got into 
 the one on our right and three on our left and two in the middle 
 and one of the left companies got into the Indians' horses, which 
 were about 900 in number, and away they went to Ft. Lyons. 
 
 And about that time, 9 or 10 o'clock, we commenced our 
 business and we finished about three o'clock P. M. Well, we 
 surely had some fun. We killed bucks, squaws, papooses and 
 dogs, and in fact everything that had anything to do with the 
 Indians. We killed 473 Indians right there in one pile. As we 
 were ransacking the teepees we found a squaw's buckskin dress, 
 which was covered with elk teeth all over the breast. 
 
 Rube said he found it first and Jim said he found it first, so 
 they got to scuffling over the doggone thing, and in rolling 
 around over things up jumped a big Indian and as he jumped 
 up he drew a big butcher knife and started towards Rube and 
 Rube started for the door with the old buck after him and Jim 
 after the old buck VN^ith sabre in hand. The Indian got to Rube 
 first and struck at him with his knife and caught Rube near 
 the right shoulder and just scratched him a little clear to the 
 hip. By this time Jim was there and one blow from his sabre 
 dropped the Indian to the ground in the agonies of death. There 
 were a number of us a little ways off, but we dared not shoot 
 for fear of hitting one of our own comrades. 
 
 Well, we had the pleasure of starting 473 to the Happy 
 Hunting Ground. That is, big and Httle, old and young- This was 
 on Sand Creek, 65 miles northeast of Ft. Lyons. We had eigh- 
 teen of our boys killed, who were buried on the bank of the 
 creek. We left the Indians there to dry up and blow away, be- 
 cause the wolves will not eat an Indian, but they will eat a 
 white man. 
 
 Then we returned to Ft. Lyons and took a good rest. 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 53 
 
 One day we received orders to go back to Ft. Cottonwood at 
 Denver. We stayed there two or three weeks and were ordered 
 to go to Ft. Collins and once there we were cut up into squads of 
 thirty. As it happened we eight old boys all got in the same 
 squad and Mike was put in charge again. We were stationed 
 on Rock Creek at a stage station, where we remained for quite 
 a while. We ran from Rock Creek to Clear Creek, a distance of 
 45 miles. 
 
 One day as we were laying over we saw three Indians on the 
 side of a hill, and one of the new recruits watched them for about 
 an hour and finally said: "Crazy, come and go with me and we 
 will capture those red devils." I said : "Trickle, when we get up 
 there there is likely to be 40 or 50 of them." "That is all right. 
 Trickle," I added, "I have been where there were no Indians and 
 inside of two minutes there would be a thousand or fifteen hun- 
 dred of them " "Well, this is not the case," insisted Trickle,, 
 "there are only three of them. Can't you see them. Crazy? 
 There are only three." "Yes," I answered, "but I really believe 
 there must be more of them or they would not be so brave." 
 
 "I believe you are afraid to go with me, Crazy," said Trickle. 
 "Let me tell you, J. T. Trickle, I am just as brave as you are. 
 And if you will get Jim to go and ask Mike I will go with you.'' 
 
 So Trickle and Jim came back and J. T. was tickled to death. 
 "Come, get your horse. Crazy, and let us be off." 
 
 As we started off J. T. said : "Now, we will have some fun 
 with them if we can get them alive. We will show them how they 
 treat white prisoners." 
 
 "Yes, J. T., but we are taking great risks of their getting 
 us." "No," he said, "they can't get us because I can shoot them 
 do^v^l faster than they can get up." "Look here. Trickle, you 
 never had any experience with the redskins did you?" "No, but 
 I have heard that one white man can take 10 or 15 Indians." 
 "Well," I replied, "let me tell you that is a lie because here is 
 Jim and I both of whom have had a great deal of experience along 
 that line and we almost know." As we came near but being- 
 in speaking distance they began to say "Hbw! Cola!" 
 
 And just about that time there came fifty strong, well 
 mounted Indians out of a small ravine and raised the war 
 
54 CRAZY — THEKID 
 
 whoop. We wheeled and started back, J. T. going to the right 
 and Jim and I to the left. We had to go around the mountain as 
 it was so steep it was impossible to go straight down. I looked 
 back and saw about twenty Indians pursuing J. T. and the rest 
 of them after Jim and I. We had only our revolvers with us. We 
 emptied them at first sight and had had no time to reload. We 
 were heading straight for a creek, Jim a little in advance of me, 
 and I was about 100 yards in advance of the Indians. 
 
 We had run a long distance by the time I struck the creek. 
 I was about three-fourths of a mile above where the stage cross- 
 ed. I was not looking for Jim, but I said: "Crazy, you save your- 
 self." And where I struck the creek the bank was about 8 feet 
 high. 
 
 I had no time to look for a good crossing and I said, "Go to 
 her, Crazy," and over I went in that ice cold water, and it was 
 about six feet deep. I drifted down about four or five rods and 
 scram.bled to the other side. There was a small bunch of willows 
 there and an old log had lodged against them, with other trash, 
 in time of flood. So I got behind these and hid and watched. If 
 any of my readers have ever been in the foothills of the Rockies, 
 they will know whether the water is warm or cold, wet or dry. 
 Well, I saw the Indians come and get my horse and saddle, which 
 I had vacated on the other side. 
 
 If I were only back home in old Missouri. The first thing 
 I thought of was "Home, sweet home, was never like this." 
 
 Well, I lay in the willows about a half hour, hoping Mike 
 would send a squad up after me, but he didn't, so I came to the 
 conclusion to pull off all my clothes, or all but my underclothes. 
 
 Well, I was in great fear of the Indians seeing me. I was 
 very nervous and didn't know at what minute the red rascals 
 would be taking my scalp. I crept through the bush, as I had rid 
 myself of my duds, and came to an opening and saw my way 
 clear. I made the station on an average of one mile per minute 
 and was greeted well on arriving. "By gad. Crazy, you are 
 lucky." "Yes, but where is Jini? Hasn't he got here yet?" 
 "No," says Dermit, "the last we saw of him he was just above 
 where you were. How did you get away? We saw the Indian 
 
MY ESCAPE FROM INDIANS. 
 
56 CRAZY — THEKID 
 
 take your horse and bridle and saddle ?" Well, I was pretty mad, 
 and my answer was : "Sneaked away." 
 
 "Say, Husky, where did J. T. go?" "^\Tiy, the last I saw of 
 him he was down the creek about one and a half miles and an 
 Indian had him all right. You needn't look for him to be coming 
 in, in his underclothes like Crazy." "Say, Mike, here comes 
 Jim," and by that the boys were all out and as Jim was making 
 his last quarter on his home stretch the boys began to cheer him 
 and were still cheering him when he reached camp, and I was 
 not the only one who was mad, because just as soon as he came 
 in the boys got a blanket and threw it over him and began to lead 
 him around as though he was a running horse just in from a 
 hard race. But he jerked loose and as soon as he got his breath 
 he said: "Boys, cut this out. You make fools out of yourselves 
 just because a fellow gets in trouble and has to run for his life. 
 Crazy and I have not seen any of it. We were lucky to get 
 back with our scalps on. Where is J. T. ?" "Oh," they replied, 
 "he is in the Happy Hunting Ground without any hair," Then 
 Mike said: "Jim, you and Crazy get on some clothes and each 
 mount a stage horse bareback and we will take a spade and go 
 bury your fool friend, J. T- Trickle. Jim, you and Crazy go in the 
 room and get yourselves some more accoutrements." I don't 
 know what Jim did with his, but I stripped mine before the cold 
 water bath. Well, when we were all ready we led our two stage 
 plugs (as we called them) out of the shed, we each having a blind 
 bridle on our horses. Then the proposition of mounting those 
 long-legged stage plugs without any saddle arose and to both of 
 us it was a conundrum. "Crazy, give me your foot, and I Will 
 help you on." But I told him I needed both of my feet, for without 
 them the Indians would have had my beautiful locks of curly hair 
 by now, but, "as long as I have them and they don't refuse to 
 obey I will show the Indians that I have got breeding if I have 
 not got any brains." "Now you are pointing the laugh on me 
 again," said Jim, "Get on your own darned old stage plug, and 
 I will do the same." Then he led his horse up to the corral and 
 mounted while one of the boys helped me on. Oh, say ! Me being 
 on that horse bareback sure brought old memories back to me 
 about when sister Dollie and I used to get one of dad's old oak 
 rails and put it through the fence and play teeter-totter. But 
 
THECOW BOY SCOUT 57 
 
 this was rougher riding by considerable. But, nevertheless, we 
 got there all right and found J. T. Trickle with his toes and 
 fingers cut off and he had a tomahawk sunk in his head three 
 times and was scalped the closest of any man I ever saw. He 
 also had three arrows in his heart. Well, we dug him a grave 
 and picked up his fingers and toes and threw them in with his 
 body. It was in as nice a place as I ever saw for a grave. In 
 those days you had to have your nerve with you more than your 
 appetite, because you had to have a cast iron stomach. It never 
 bothered a man where he was going to eat, but it was whether 
 he was going to get anything to eat or not. 
 
 After we left the stage station we went to Ft. Collins where 
 we remained till 1865, when we were ordered back to Denver. 
 Now, my dear reader, I will tell you of Denver and its occupants 
 at that time. There were two banks, four general stores, eight 
 saloons and two gambliig houses. All you had to do was to draw 
 a hand, get rich quick and leave the place broke. Then on down 
 the creek were the Elephant corrals and a few dwelling houses. 
 
 Well, as for me, only a lad as I was, I had a hankering for 
 fifty-two card monte. So one night or late in the afternoon I 
 began to play with $20.00. 
 
 I had fine success and won close to $500.00. So then I drew 
 out and walked out and at the door I met Husky and showed him 
 my winnings. He said : "I will tell you what I will do. Crazy, we 
 will go over to the Progressive Hall and I will put in with you 
 and if you have good luck and make a killing I will nudge you 
 and you quit and we will divide stakes." 
 
 So over we went and I made another killing as he called it, 
 and I cleared over $400.00 there, making $900.00 that one night. 
 
 Well, Husky and I were feeling too high toned to sleep 
 down to the ranks that night and the -two of us got a bed for 
 $2.50 and meals at $1.00 each. Well, we went to roost, as we 
 called it, but, believe me, we did not forget to take a pint to bed 
 with us for an eye-opener. It only cost us $2.00 in those days. 
 
 I wanted Husky to go with me up north of Denver, but he 
 said he wouldn't because maybe some of those red devils would 
 get a hold of us. And maybe they would give us a warm re- 
 ception. 
 
58 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 The Indians were committing a great many depredations 
 along the Platte River. But I had learned not to hunt any In- 
 dians by this time unless I wanted trouble and I never hunted 
 trouble. Well, after my big killing we eight old boys had a time 
 of it for a few days. Of course we didn't get drunk, but we 
 came mighty near it. There were the eight of us who went 
 through the mill so often, but had never been ground yet, but I 
 guess we had all been down (drunk). 
 
 Oysters were $1.00 per dish, cigars 25c, whisky three for 
 $1.00. Of course there was a dance every evening, and of course 
 one night we had to take in the dance.. You could choose your 
 own partner, as there were lots of girls. The dance only cost 
 $1.00 per set, and they were mighty short sets at that. 
 
 Well, I hung around there for one week and then we got our 
 "honorable discharge" from the army. One night Husky said 
 to me: "Crazy, let's buy us a horse and saddle apiece." So we 
 did. I paid $9.00 for my horse and $75.00 for my saddle. Husky 
 got employment with a bull outfit back to the states and I bade 
 him my last "good bye" with a hearty shake. And I thought 
 as much of Mike as I did my own father, and he cared for me 
 as a father would his son. Now I bade the rest of the boys 
 adieu and started north to a squaw camp. The squaw camp was 
 where there were white fellows living with squaws as their 
 wives. They had tents pitched close together. Had stock on 
 range around there and several boys and girls. 
 
 Here I notice that I forgot one little incident that happened 
 about the time we had one massacre on Sand Creek. There we 
 captured a little over 900 horses from the Indians. We drove 
 them to Ft. Lyons and they were steadily disappearing, so the 
 officers put out guards around them and one nice moonlight night 
 there were three fellows and these, while trying to get some 
 of the horses, were captured by the soldiers. They had a pre- 
 liminary hearing and our company was ordered to take them to 
 Ft. Riley, Kansas. On our way there we went through Ft. Larn- 
 ard, on the Arkansas River. 
 
 We went past the place where one year before we had found 
 the mule train that had been captured by the Indians and all 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 59 
 
 of the occupants killed with the exception of the one who was 
 scalped alive. 
 
 Well, we came to Ft. Riley all right and were shown our 
 quarters and all we had to do was to care for our horses, and it 
 is needless to say had a "high old time" as we classed it. One 
 night Hiusky and I were up to the settlers' store and there were 
 a couple of old negro women there and they were telling how 
 their highnesses were going to have a big dance out of town 
 about four miles the next night. And when they started away 
 Husky said : "Say, gals, where did you say that dance was going 
 to be?" "About four miles," she replied. "And how do you go 
 to get there?" "Well, sah, you go out over this hill, sah, and down 
 in de coolie and den you just follow dat dar road till you strike 
 de big house and dar you will hear de music. Why, boss, are ye 
 coming?" "Yes," we repHed, "we will be there." "All right," 
 she replied, "bring all de soldier boys with you." 
 
 Well, Husky and I didn't know how we were going to get 
 our horses out unobserved because there was a strong chain 
 guard around the horse quarters. Well, we got in the barn 
 without any trouble or without being observed and once there we 
 began peering through a hole, but it was so dark that it was 
 very inconvenient to see very far. But we could see the guard 
 walking his beat and it was about 60 yards long. So Husky 
 suggested that we get our horses saddled and when he was at 
 the other end we would open the door and mount and run down 
 over the hill and once over we were out of sight of the guard. 
 So this was planned and away we went and once over the hill we 
 struck the well beaten trail or road as the girls termed it. We 
 followed it about three miles, when we stopped and began to 
 talk the situation over. We were positive in our owli minds that 
 we were in no danger of the Indians because there were a good 
 many white people in this vicinity. 
 
 We were just discussing what to do when there was a big 
 load of negroes coming up in a wagon drawn by a yoke of oxen. 
 We asked them "where they were going." And their reply was : 
 "Going to a dance, sah." We therefore mentioned the fact that 
 that was our place of destination and they said : "All right, sol- 
 diers, come right along with us." 
 
 So in a little distance we came upon a big log house and you 
 
60 CRAZY — THEKID 
 
 could by this time see the crowd gathering. Husky and I hid 
 our horses, thinking somebody would need a couple of good sad- 
 dle horses maybe, and would take them along. We got back to 
 our load in tirne to enter with them. 
 
 When we went in there were about twenty men and that 
 many women and girls. 
 
 We asked for the proprietor and when he came to us we 
 introduced ourselves. And as we did so he said "Laws, are you 
 soldiers from Ft. Riley?" We added that we were. 
 
 And at about that time he yelled out to stop that music. 
 The music stopped and then he said: "Ladies and gentlemen, 
 here are two young soldiers from Colorado and I want them re- 
 spected. And I also want ye ladies ter dance with them every 
 time ye git a chance." 
 
 Wlien this was said the music began again and of course we 
 had to dance, because when one of those big fat negroes got hold 
 of you, you had better dance to their music. Believe me, one at a 
 time was enough, but sometimes there would be three or four 
 after us. 
 
 There wasn't any rose water in the room, but it was on our 
 second or third set I got a whiff of one old fellow's breath. So I 
 told Husky and pointed out the man. And he made for him and 
 asked him for a drink. So out they started and you can bet I 
 v/asn't three jumps behind, with slobbers running clear to my 
 toes- He took us out behind the barn, and there he produced 
 two pints and one of them we emptied before we left and on our 
 way back he said : "Say, soldier boys, dar is a lot of pies and cakes 
 in de old cupboard down cellar, and if you watch here I will go 
 down and we will smack our lips on them." So we stayed and 
 pretty soon back he came with pies and cakes. 
 
 Well, I must say that we had a feast and when the old fel- 
 lov/s spirits were v/orking just right Husky asked him if he 
 knew where we could get some turkeys and chickens; and he 
 says : "Law sakes, yes, lots of them," and he took us back to the 
 barn and showed us an old sod house and the chimney was made 
 out of mud and sticks. The sticks were sticking out about two 
 feet and they were covered with turkeys. Husky deemed it 
 best to go back to the house and dance again before we made our 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 61 
 
 haul. Well, we did, then we stole to the barn and got the old 
 fellow's pint that was left and then we got three turkeys apiece 
 and started for Ft. Riley. On arriving there the guard halted us 
 and we gave him the pass word and he let us in. We unsaddled 
 and took our game to our mess. I woke up the cook and 
 gave him a smile from the old negro's bottle, then I told him 
 our story and asked him if he "would cook it," and his reply 
 was : "Yes, or bust." 
 
 So he got right up and we helped him. Well, in the morn- 
 ing we sat down to a healthy breakfast. I took a plateful over to 
 Captain Sola and on entering he said: "Hello, Crazy, what have 
 you got this morning?" 
 
 "Well, Captain, it is this way, Husky and I was out to a nig- 
 ger dance last night and we caught some turkeys and — " "Well 
 look here, Crazy, you have been drinking a little, haven't you?" 
 "Well, yes, a little, Captain." "Well, Crazy, you go back to your 
 mess and tell your cook to burn all those feathers and entrails 
 and all the bones. I thank you. Crazy, for this dish, because it 
 really looks good. But be careful and do as I tell you or the 
 next dance you will dance in the guard house." Well, back I 
 went and we cleaned everything up in general, and about 11 A. M. 
 up to the commanding officers' quarters we went. Soon there 
 came orders for every company to fall out in line as they were 
 going to look for the fellows that stole the turkeys last night. 
 
 Well, as soon as our Captain got orders he came down to us 
 and told us to put on the worst looking and dirtiest clothing we 
 had as we were soon to be lined up. So when the bugle sounded 
 we all fell in line, and along came the commanding officer and 
 the two negroes, and they came to me first. They stopped and 
 looked at me and I could feel my face blanch, and I thought if 
 they didn't move on my knees would give away and I would drop 
 to the ground. They stepped on. Then they came to Husky 
 and stopped again, and he eyed them with a smile, and they 
 soon went on, so when they had looked all over our company the 
 commanding officer congratulated our captain for not having 
 any thieves in the company. We Were excused again, and be- 
 lieve me, we neither went to any more nigger dances nor stole any 
 more turkeys. 
 
62 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 Now to come back to where I left off. I went to this squaw 
 camp or Cache-la-Poudre (name of the creek) as it is now called. 
 There I hired out to old Bill Whitcombe for $85.00 per month. 
 Bill Whitcombe was a full blood Frenchman. His wife was a half- 
 breed Ogallala Sioux Indian. They lived in tents close to the 
 creek above mentioned. They had no bams, nor corral even. He 
 had about 4,000 head of horses and about 11,000 head of cattle, 
 and about $11,000 in cash. 
 
 He also had five real pretty quarter breed daughters and 
 all of them were excellent riders. The next morning I had to go 
 out and look after the horses and cattle and to my surprise Bill 
 Whitcombe told me to go with the girls and Laura would be boss. 
 
 And she would tell me where to go and what to do. So when 
 we started we rode southeast in the forenoon and there we 
 camped for dinner and Laura was the cook. I unpacked the 
 pack pony for her and she got dinner and we ate very heartily. 
 Well, 1 didn't feel just right out there with those five quarter 
 breeds and still they saw that I did blush a little when they would 
 joke me a little and then they commenced to joke me in earnest. 
 Told me that I had an awful ugly name and she said she would 
 like to "change my name to something pretty." I didn't know 
 what else to say so I told her I didn't care a ''darn" what they 
 called me. 
 
 "All right then," said Laura, "call him Buckskin Billy, girls- 
 What do you say, girls?" "Oh yes, Laura, I think Buckskin Billy 
 is such a pretty name." 
 
 "Well, Billy, you get the ponies ready and we will pull out, 
 as we have about forty miles to ride yet this afternoon." 
 
 So when all was ready we started on and pretty soon we be- 
 gan to come on to some of Whitcombe's horses and cattle, and 
 Laura showed me the brands and everything went fine that 
 day, and the next day the girls thought they would have fun 
 with me. Laura threw her rope over a wild bronco and he 
 reared, plunged and pitched, until he gave out. Then Laura said : 
 "Billy, you take the rope and wind it around your saddle horn 
 and if the bronco goes to bucking you keep your pony's head to- 
 wards the bronco and don't let him ^\^nd around you or you 
 will have some fun." 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 63 
 
 You may well know that I was gi'een in that line of busi- 
 ness and just as I got ready all the fool girls gave a "whoop" 
 and away went the wild bronco and my pony also. About that 
 time I reached for the saddle horn and got a handful of sand, 
 and of course the laugh was on me and when I got up and rubbed 
 the sand out of my eyes I saw my saddle, pony, bridle and bronco 
 about one-half mile away and all the girls stood there laughing at 
 me and Laura said: "Never mind, Billy, that was only a little 
 joke we played on you." "Well, dam your little jokes and 
 common ideas. Why didn't you play this little joke out on the 
 prairie where I could have the grass to fall on instead of this 
 blamed sand?" "Well, Billy, you see if a bronco is in sand up 
 to his pasturn joints he can't buck so hard and he will soon give 
 out." 
 
 They had all quit laughing except Maud and finally she made 
 me mad and I told her "that horse would not have jumped so 
 hard if it hadn't wanted to get away from your ugly face." 
 
 Well, after Tootle went and got my pony we rode over the 
 hills and there Gypsy killed an antelope. Then we went down 
 along the creek and camped for the night, after picketing our 
 ponies. 
 
 After supper was over we sat there and talked and it ap- 
 peared to me that those girls couldn't find anything to talk about 
 except me holding a wild horse. In those days everybody carried 
 their own bedding right along with them, but they never used 
 feather beds. 
 
 So we had but little trouble making our beds. Next morn- 
 ing, breakfast over, Laura sent Gypsy and Tootle one way and 
 Maud and Sarah the other and she and I went another. Laura 
 said: "Girls, you had better take a lunch with you because it 
 will be late this evening when we will get in. And remember 
 tonight we will camp at the mouth of Willow Creek." 
 
 So Laura and I went to the mouth of Willow Creek and ar- 
 rived there about a half hour before any of the rest of the girls 
 got there and as we had the grub pony with us we were busy at 
 supper when they arrived. Finally Tootle and Gypsy came 
 in and then the girls commenced to unpack the bed ponies while 
 we finished getting supper. When supper was over we were all 
 
64 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 sitting and lounging around and Gypsy says, "Billy, how is the 
 wild bronco?" "All right," I said and then I told them that I 
 would bet them $500 that I got even with them for the gol-darned 
 foolishness, "because I tell you it is going to be stopped." "Well, 
 Billy," says Laura, "I will make them keep still." So the rest of 
 the girls made our beds while Laura and I talked. Gypsy and 
 Tootle slept together and Maud and Sarah. And Laura and I 
 slept, alone. As a general rule we would sit up till about 11 P. M. 
 and crack jokes. But the jokes were most of them cracked on 
 me. Laura and I became chums, but not "bunkies." 
 
 The next morning Laura told Tootle and Gypsy, Maud 
 and Sarah to go over and down Pale Creek to the bluffs. Then 
 over on Clear Creek and up it to Friday's camp and she and I 
 would meet them there and we would eat and then pull out 
 and strike the Cache-La-Poudre and up that creek to home. 
 
 So we arrived home about 9 P. M. The old boss was glad to 
 see us and we were glad to be home again. And after we had 
 something to eat, the girls would just sit there and giggle and 
 laugh. And finally they aroused the old man's curiosity and he 
 said: "Girls, what is the matter? Have you had some trouble, 
 or have you played some joke on year young partner?" 
 
 "Well, you see, papa, I caught a bronco, and I had Billy 
 snub it to his saddle horn, and just then the girls gave a little 
 whoop and Billy went off and got sand in his eyes. We got his 
 pony for him and away we went on the trail again and Billy was 
 pretty mad. But he soon got good humor again because I rode 
 along beside him and told his some funny stories. I let him 
 ride with Gypsy one-half day and she tried to get him to rope a 
 buffalo calf but he wouldn't do it, and it was a pretty good 
 thing he did not, because the old buffalo cow would have made 
 him think it was worse than getting dumped in the sand from the 
 bronco." 
 
 Well, we stayed at home for about three days and one eve- 
 ning Bill Whitcombe said to Laura, "You and Billy get in two 
 good saddle ponies apiece and two pack ponies and load them 
 with provisions enough to take yoii north to Horseshoe Bend and 
 back to North Platte, and round up all of my stock you can find 
 and brand the young." 
 
66 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 So next morning we were on the trail early for Horseshoe 
 Bend. We were gone four days that time and had fine luck on 
 our trip. We returned home and found everything in fine shape. 
 In this camp there were Chas. Elgin, Jack Sully, who worked 
 for Bob Saunders, and Ben Clemore. There were also Chat. 
 Dubrey and Wm. or Bill Whitcombe. Ben Clemore and Bob 
 Saunders were squaw men, and Chas., Jack and myself were still 
 single. 
 
 Along in the fall Jack said to me one evening : "Billy, I have 
 found a camp of Utes in the mountains in the forks of Clear 
 Creek about twelve miles from here and their ponies range down 
 Clear Creek from where they are camped. So if you are game 
 and want a little extra money we can run them off without any 
 danger of getting caught. 
 
 "Well, I want to know whether it is all right or if it is a 
 whizzer you are feeding me." "Well, it is this way, I have been 
 up there and seen them and picked out a good trail. We can go 
 southwest of here and strike the trail that leads to the mouth of 
 the canyon the Indians are located in. I think I can follow the 
 trail I picked out, and as soon as we get through the rocks we 
 will find a little valley and we will cross that one and through 
 another rock gully and the ponies are from one half mile to two 
 miles beyond. You are to stay at the second gap and lay low 
 while I run around the bunch and drive them through. I will 
 have to go easy as the Utes are just over the hill in the next 
 canyon and their dogs might give the alarm. And when I get 
 even with this boulder I will shoot and you drive in behind the 
 bunch and we will make for the plains. 
 
 I assured him I would and for him to hurry around the 
 bunch and I M^ould be ready. "All right," he said, "but you want 
 to be ready to help fight Indians or stampede if it comes to that." 
 Again I assured him I would, and when we got there I got be- 
 hind the boulder and he rode on. 
 
 In the course of an hour I heard horses coming and they 
 passed me one by one. Then I heard Jack's gun bark and out 
 after the ponies I flew. "Be very careful how you ride," Jack 
 said, "because if your horse fall^ into a ditch he might hurt you 
 and we might have trouble." 
 
 We rode hard through the foot hills and down Clear Creek 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 67 
 
 till we were again on the plains. It was now daylight and we 
 were not afraid of the Indians following us here because they 
 were afraid of the Sioux Indians, so we were in pretty good 
 spirits now- We kept on riding till at last we came to one of 
 old Bill HoUiday's stage line stations and there we satisfied our 
 stomachs with some of Hostetter's Bitters and a good meal of 
 crackers and bacon. And Jones, the fellow who had charge of 
 the stage team and station, asked us a few questions and finally 
 said: "Well, boys, you have a nice bunch of ponies there." "Yes," 
 said Jack. "Do you want to sell any of them," asked the stage 
 man. "Oh, I don't know," said Jack, "what do you think, 
 Billy? Do just as you please, I don't care." 
 
 "Well, boys, I will tell you what I will do. I will give you 
 four dollars per head for ten head, and throw in a bottle of 
 bitters ; what do you say to that ?" "It is a go," said Jack. So 
 Jones paid Jack the $40.00 and we got our bitters and started on 
 doWn the creek and met Bill Sherman. "Well, boys, you made 
 a good haul there. Did the redskins give you much of a chase?" 
 "No, we got this bunch like steaKng candy from a kid," said 
 Jack. "They didn't know we were in the mountains and we 
 are not going back to tell them." "How many have you and 
 what will you take for the bunch?" "We have got thirty-seven 
 left. What will you give us for the bunch ?" 
 
 "I will give you $100.00." "No, that is not enough." "Well, 
 then, what will you take ?" "What do you think they are worth, 
 Billy?" "I will leave it to you, but I think we ought to have 
 $60.00 for each of us, $120 out of the 37 head; don't you?" "Yes, 
 I do, Billy." "Well, I will take them if you boys will run them 
 down to the ranch and help brand them." So we did, and stayed 
 all night with Sherman. 
 
 ■ And early next morning we started back home and landed 
 there about noon with about $80.00 apiece better off. One day 
 Whitcombe said: "Billy, how much money have you?" "I have 
 a little over $900.00." 
 
 "Well, Billy, you let me have about $800.00 and I will buy you 
 one of those mule outfits that is coming back from Salt Lake." 
 "I can get four mules, wagon, harness and everything complete."' 
 
68 C R A Z Y — T H E K I D 
 
 "All right, here is your money, now you buy good ones or 
 none at all." "I will do that, 'Billy." 
 
 In a few days as Laura and I were coming in from one 
 of our rides, we saw standing on the plains four skeletons of 
 mules. They were young, but so poor that you could have count- 
 ed their ribs in their shadows. 
 
 He had got a good wagon and harness. But I was sure sick 
 of the mules. But in a very short time they picked up in flesh 
 and I began to feel better. So one evening Whitcombe said : 
 "Billy, this afteihioon let us hitch up your mules and drive 
 down to old Ft. Collins." "All right," I said. "Come on, Laura, 
 and help me run them in and hitch them up." "All right, dear," 
 was her firm reply. When hitched up Whitcombe climbed up 
 on the seat and I followed and away went my mules. I had han- 
 dled four lines before, so I could guide them, but I could not hold 
 them, so I let them run about two miles and then they cooled 
 down to a walk. And when we got there I drove up in front of 
 the store, and while I was sitting on the seat Mr. Sherman came 
 up and said : "Say, Whitcombe, what will you take for that out- 
 fit?" 
 
 "It is not mine, Mr. Sherman, it belongs to the kid there." 
 "What, an outfit like that belongs to a kid?" "Yes, sir," was 
 Bill's reply. "Say, kid, what will you take for your outfit?" 
 
 "I don't believe I want to sell them now ; yesterday you could 
 have bought them pretty cheap." "I'll give you $1200.00 for the 
 outfit." 
 
 "They are not for sale now." "All right, sir," and he walked 
 on down the street. 
 
 I was pretty happy then to think that I was not stuck on 
 my deal. Well, I went back to Bill's and Bill wanted to sell Ben 
 Clemore, Chat Dubreay, Bob Saunders, Chas. Elgin and myself- 
 a load of potatoes. For Bill had in six acres and they yielded 
 good. So we talked the matter over and finally came to the con- 
 clusion that we would each take a load. 
 
 Bill and four of the girls contmenced digging and Laura and 
 I commenced riding again. iVecall to memory one night as Jack 
 Sully and I were talking I told him: "Now, Jack, I am going to 
 Ft. Laramie, Wyoming, and I might stay there all winter and I 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 69 
 
 want you to see that no young buck goes to courting Laura while 
 I am gone." "All right," replied Jack, "but what about myself?" 
 
 "Well," I retorted, "you can do as you please but I was sure 
 you were in love with Gypsy." "Oh, darn Gypsy," said Jack, 
 "if I could get Laura." "Well, you hadn't better try that or there 
 will be scalping going on when redskins are absent-" "All right, 
 Billy," he said, "I will see that she waits for you." 
 
 At last our potatoes were loaded and we took a team and 
 went down to Ft. Collins and laid in our winter's grub stake. We 
 were paying six cents per pound for them and if we hauled them 
 to Ft, Laramie, Wyo., we could get eighteen cents per pound. So 
 we had to haul them 350 miles. When we got back to camp 
 we wegihed up and paid up. I had over 4,000 pounds and it cost 
 me over $260.00. You may think that was high for potatoes, but 
 it was considered cheap in those days. 
 
 All ready at last, we started on our long lonesome journey 
 across country. Laura went with me for the first day then 
 turned back. Bob Saunders took his squaw and one child along 
 to drive the grub wagon. Everything went lovely for the first 
 few days and at last we reached Foot Creek late in the evening. 
 We camped and picketed our mules about 200 yards from us on a 
 nice bunch of grass and each of us had an extra saddle horse 
 along in case of emergency, so we had them tied to our wagons. 
 
 After supper we all smoked and talked and they had all gone 
 to bed but myself. I was still smoking and sitting over a pile of 
 ashes from buffalo chips. All at once I heard a noise of hoof 
 beats. I thought it was a buffalo herd on the stampede. So I 
 jumped upon the wagon and grabbed my double barreled rifle 
 and just as I alighted I heard something familiar to me that I 
 had so often heard before, but tonight it made my hair stand on 
 end. 
 
 It was the Indian war whoop. 
 
 I yelled to the boys: "Get up!" Whang, bang, zip, yip, and 
 believe me or not it was hot and heavy tor a long time. 
 
 There were only five of us and Bob's squaw and two children. 
 The first thing the Indians done was to stampede our mules, but 
 thanks to our Almighty, we had our ponies. 
 
7« CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 Well, that was once we held a council of war and fought at 
 the same time. 
 
 "What do you think of it, Chat ?" says Ben. "I'll be darned 
 
 if this hain't h 1." Wliang. bang! "Say, Billy, don't you wish 
 
 you were back to Bill Whitcombe's with Laura now?" "You shut 
 up." I replied, "or my next bullet will be for you, Bob." 
 
 "Say, Bob, you let your squaw talk to them and maybe she 
 can persuade them to let us take our ponies and go providing 
 we leave everything else." So the squaw began to talk. But 
 the chief said : "My name is Black Dog and the whites killed my 
 brother on Smoky Hill and I have these whites here and I am 
 going to kill them now and scalp them." "That isn't very good 
 news," said Bob to Chat. 
 
 So we kept on firing till about one A. M. I says to Bob : "You 
 let your squaw run out north of here and holler for help and all 
 the Indians \vi\\ think she has got away and run to her rescue 
 and we will hit our ponies and the high places." 
 
 "What do you think of Billy's proposition, Ben?" "Well, 
 it %nll work all right, but can't we get down in the creek and 
 go up along the bank till we get to the mountains and then they 
 can't find us." 
 
 When we found out it was death to stay there we made up 
 our minds to take what chance we had, however desperate. 
 
 Old Black Dog said he had only about ninety warriors and he 
 was going to have a three days' dance over our scalps. Oh, say, 
 I could imagine my scalp already dangling on a teepee pole along 
 vnth my four companions' scalps. I would have sold my hide 
 and tallow for a nickle if I was sure that Laura \\x)uld get the 
 five cents. 
 
 "Say, Charley, how do you like this? I have told you how 
 we used to fight Indians." 
 
 "Well, Billy, there is no time for any foolishness for we 
 are likely to get a lead pill any moment." 
 
 "Oh, pshaw, Charley, cheer up and be game. If we are to 
 die we will die whether the Indians get us or not." "Well Bob. I 
 think if you ^^^ll send your squaw out north of the wagons and 
 heller so she can make them think she has got a'w^y from us. 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 71 
 
 she will draw them from around the wagons, and we can 
 be ready and as soon as they leave us we can scallyhoot on our 
 ponies." 
 
 So we got all our guns reloaded and put all the ammunition 
 in our saddle bags with a few crackers and a chunk of bacon. 
 
 Bob said: "Sousan, enocknee-enocknee." Interpreted this 
 means "Go" in the Ogallala Sioux tongue. So she went and in 
 less time than it takes to tell it we were gone. And when we 
 were about a half mile off there came the Indians in hot pursuit. 
 
 And just then Charley's pony stepped into a prairie dog hole 
 and Charley took a header. Charley being the only one of us 
 without a saddle was riding on a blanket. 
 
 "Stop, boys!" said Chat. We all stopped, and whang! 
 bang! the firing commenced again. Charley was up and on his 
 pony bareback. He said : "Let my blanket go to thunder. Let's 
 go, I am in a hurry." So on we went, firing in all directions, and 
 pretty soon we lost the Indians because they didn't want to take 
 the chances that we did over the rough country. 
 
 Jim said to Chat, "Do you know where we can strike the 
 White Bluffs, so that we can get up in the mountains to Virginia 
 Dale," which was Ben Holliday's overland stage station. "Yes, I 
 do." "Well, then, you take the lead and let us keep up a good 
 gait." 
 
 At daybreak we were in the White Bluffs and finally we 
 came upon a valley where there was plenty of good water and 
 grass. So we stopped and let our ponies rest and feed as well 
 as ourselves. It would be good for our ponies, as well as for our 
 stomach's sake. 
 
 Again we started on our journey, rejoicing to think we 
 still o^v^led our own scalps, I because I would rather have my 
 scalp on my head than in the possession of the redskins. 
 
 We rode over mountain and valley and every once in a while 
 we would spy a bunch of deer, a stray moose or an old elk. But 
 we were not out on a hunt for wild game, but a place of safety. 
 
 Night came on and we camped. But there was not one in 
 the camp that had even a blanket. So Charley and I built up a 
 good fire and all of us laid down around the fire, using our sad- 
 dles for pillows, and slept soundly till our fire burned down, then 
 
72 CRAZY — THEKID 
 
 we would rebuild our fire, and while we were rebuilding our fire 
 Charley said he had been scalped five times while he was asleep. 
 And at break of day we were up and on the trail again and we 
 wandered around the hills all day as it was impossible to travel 
 any straight direction. But Chat was all right, he knew the coun- 
 try just as well as an old cow knows her calf. 
 
 "Be careful there^ Billy, don't you see that mountain Hon 
 lying there watching you from that rock above you, close by 
 that little cedar?" ''Oh, yes, I have got my goggles on him. 
 Hasn't he got pretty big eyes ? Say Ben, let me throw a chunk 
 of lead at him," and just as I pulled my gun from the holster 
 Chat said: "Hold on, Billy, you little fool, if you would wound 
 him you would have more fun than you were looking for. It 
 Would be worse than to have a band of Indians after you. He 
 would sure get you. We must go do^vn this way and let him 
 have his slumber out." 
 
 Night came and we camped again. And Chat said, "Boys, 
 we can make the stage station by noon tomorrow." Charley and 
 I got some wood and started a fire and we had an old fashioned 
 supper, bacon and crackers. But no coffee. Supper* over and bed 
 time came so we took the soft side of the ground for our beds 
 and covered ourselves with the blue skies and stars of the heav- 
 ens. There was one consideration — we could keep any side warm 
 we wished by turning that side towards the fire. 
 
 Those nights seemd long and, pleasureless. Morning came 
 and found us again on the trail. 
 
 We were traveling slowly because it was very foggy in 
 the canyon and very difficult to keep the right trail. We went 
 on and up until we reached the top of the mountain and once 
 there the sun was shining brightly. 
 
 Just as we reached the top Ben said, "Here, boys, are pony 
 tracks," and on examining them we estimated them at twenty- 
 five and they were made by Indians. 
 
 We had come up one canyon and they went down another 
 just opposite. "Well," said Charley, "I am really glad we missed 
 them because my pants are tire'd riding bareback." 
 
 "Well, boys," said Chat, "we will get there in about one hour 
 as it is not far from here." \ 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT- 73 
 
 Well, we arrived there in a short time and shortly after we 
 arrived some of the boys who were staying at the station asked 
 if we had seen any Indians upon the ^mountain we had just come 
 do^^1l. Bob said: "No, we were not looking for any either, but 
 we saw where they had gone down a canyon just opposite the 
 one we came up." 
 
 And it was a lucky thing for us we didn't meet them. We 
 were there but a little while and they told us that their hunter 
 had gone out that morning. We had heard some shots up there, 
 two or three hours before. "Well, boys, let four or five of us go up 
 there and see if we can find him. Boone is a pretty good fellow 
 and I would hate to see him hurt." "All right," we said, "we 
 will go up." The boys returned with Boone tied on a horse- He 
 had been killed and scalped and his body was stuck full of ar- 
 rows. They took him down the canyon a little distance and found 
 where the earth was about two feet deep and laid him in it and 
 built a tomb stone of loose rock. 
 
 Of course I had my outfit all right, saddle and pony. Char- 
 ley said his was all right too, because it had turned to sole 
 leather as he had been riding bareback for a little over two 
 days. 
 
 I'll tell you we were a pretty downhearted bunch. I had lost 
 everything except saddle, bridle and guns, and pony. When we 
 got to Virginia Dale we were forty miles from Bill Whitcombe's, 
 mj'^ home as I called it then. 
 
 "Well," said Chat, about 4 P. M., "let us go home tonight. 
 Do you think it is safe for us?" "Oh, yes. There will not be 
 any redskins prowling around at night and there is nothing to 
 stay here for." "Well," I said, "I don't care, but what will Laura 
 think of me, losing everything I have." "Well," said he, "you 
 see old Whitcombe is stuck on you and if you play your cards 
 right you will be a big winner." ^ 
 
 We again ate a lunch and got two pints, which cost us $5.00, 
 and again were ready to leave. Ben said: "Tell my women and 
 children that I will be home tomorrow." 
 
 We left Bob's squaw with the Indians. Chas. had none, 
 neither did I. But there was Laura, my best friend in the west. 
 
74 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 About 3 A. M. Chat and I arrived at home and all were surprised 
 to see us. And all got up to hear the news. And old Whit said : 
 ''Billy, you tell me all about it." I related my story and all the 
 girls, even Gypsy, cried about my misfortune. Chat was in an- 
 other part of the camp. Laura got me a bite to eat and I went 
 to bed and I slept till about noon. And when I woke I could tell 
 some of my awful dreams which I had while asleep. 
 
 "Oh, say, Laura," I said, "I think I will get ready and pull 
 for my home in the states." "Look here, Billy," she replied, "you 
 can't do it, it will be too big an undertaking for you to travel 
 so far by your lonesome. And I can't go along with you." 
 
 "Yes, dear," I said, "it will be a lonesome trip without you. 
 Yes, you will see me back here if I can't find a better girl." 
 
 "Well, Billy, do you think you could find a more affectionate 
 girl than I ?" "No," I replied, "Laura, you have been very kind to 
 me and I hope you will remain so, and Charley will likely stay 
 and you can have him to ride the range with you." "No, Billy," 
 she replied, "I don't like Charley. He is dead stuck on Gypsy 
 anyway. So you see I would be alone in this big world and you 
 know I never speak to an Indian and my love is all for you, and 
 if you leave me I will surely die." 
 
 "Say, Laura," I said, "maybe some day I shall come back 
 and see you." 
 
 "Look here, Billy, I can't believe you ever will. You know if 
 you get down to the states among white girls you will never 
 come back to see your own true love." 
 
 Laura was a quarter breed you know, but I loved her just 
 the same. 
 
 "Well, Bill," she replied, "you know my father is a White 
 man and my mother is not a full blood Indian. I am only one- 
 fourth Indian. We could go among white people and they would 
 never know that there was any Indian blood in me." 
 
 "Well, Laura, I want to see your father and maybe I will 
 stay another month." "All right," she said, "I hope you will 
 never leave me as long as you live." "No, Laura," I said, "I am 
 going back to the states." "No," she exclaimed, "I can not stand 
 it for you to leave me now." 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 75 
 
 I saw Mr. Whitcombe and said : "I think I will stay With you 
 another month if it is agreeable with you." "Well, Billy," he 
 said, "I will give you $85.00 per month if you want to stay." 
 
 "All right," I said, "I will stay another month at the least." 
 
 So the next day Laura and I started out on the range again. 
 We had our grub ponies and our bed ponies with us and stayed 
 till four or five days before my month was up and when we got 
 home Laura said: "Papa, let Billy and I go down on Willow 
 Creek. I think there is some colts down there that should be 
 branded and I would rather have Billy than Maud and Gyp both." 
 
 "Well, Laura," said the old man, "you are surely in love with 
 Billy, hain't you?" 
 
 "Well, papa, you see we have been together about eighteen 
 months and he has been so kind to me 1 really do love him." 
 
 "Well," said the old man, "you and Billy can go in the morn- 
 ing and brand all colts and calves you can find." "All right, 
 I am glad we can go," she said- "You see, papa, I am going to 
 try and get him to stay with us. How would you like to keep 
 him, papa?" 
 
 "Well," said old Whitcombe, "if he wants to stay I will give 
 you and him a little boodle for a starter." 
 
 In the morning Laura and I again packed our ponies and 
 started and the first day we only traveled about thirty miles 
 where we ought to have traveled fifty, for we had business to 
 talk about. 
 
 Laura was telling me how happy we would be with a big 
 bunch of cattle and horses. 
 
 Bill Whitcombe was going to move to Montana soon and 
 Laura and I could go along. Camped at last and we ate supper 
 and soon rolled up in our blankets. 
 
 The next morning we got an early start and it was the same 
 old song, "Billy, won't you stay with me and go to Montana?" 
 "Well, I will see later on, Laura." 
 
 My dear reader, you may see that my folks were all v/hite 
 people and if I got a "breed" I wouldn't have wanted to take her 
 home. And if I had a wife I would want to take her along. 
 You see it was hard for me to say no because I had been with her 
 
76- CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 SO long and I really loved her, too. She was good looking and 
 fair complexioned and was a lady in every respect. 
 
 We reached Willow Creek and found lots of colts and calves. 
 We branded for six days. 
 
 We surely had all kinds of fun. Laura was kicked off twice 
 and I got a jolter in one side that laid me up for a whole day. 
 Next morning we went to work and finished up branding. The 
 following day we started home and were two days getting in. 
 
 "Hello," said Whitcombe, "Well, children, how did you get 
 along, did you find many colts and calves?" "Oh, yes," said 
 Laura. "We got 16 colts and 41 calves." "Well, that was pretty 
 good for a couple of kids." 
 
 Say, my troubles commenced that night, as my time was up 
 and I was going away from the old camp. 
 
 All the girls piled on me. And for all the talking you ever 
 heard. The run of the conversation was cattle, horses, boys, 
 girls, marrying and me. 
 
 It was hard to tell which loved me the most that evening, as 
 they were all trying to see which was the closest to me and to 
 see which could kiss me most or hug me the hardest. I don't 
 think that any of them knew very much. But they were bound 
 to coax me to stay. However, they took the wrong way of do- 
 ing it. 
 
 Laura was all right, but as to the rest I didn't care much for 
 any of them. But you can imagine how I felt when I asked 
 Whitcombe to settle up the next morning. 
 
 It was not only Laura that cried, but all of the girls and 
 Whit's wife. 
 
 "Well," said Whit, "Billy, if you will stay with us I will give 
 you 100 head of cattle and 75 head of horses and will throw in 
 Laura and you and she can have your pick and put your own 
 brand on them and claim them as your owti," and just then Laura 
 grabbed me around the neck and kissed me and said: "Billy, won't 
 you stay ? Because I love you with all my heart and if you leave 
 me I shall surely die. Oh, Billy, stay with me and be mine for- 
 ever." 
 
 "Well," I said, "but I must go home and see father, if he 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 77 
 
 is alive with the rest of my folks, because I have only heard from 
 them once in these seven years since 1861." 
 
 "I was only thirteen when I left home and I am now nearly 
 
 twenty." 
 
 "And," I said, "I want to see my folks at home." 
 
 "Well, Billy, will you come back?" "Well," I replied, "I v/ill 
 
 see what father says about it." "Well, Billy, papa will give you 
 
 $2,000.00 and that will pay our expenses down there and back and 
 
 I think I will go with you." 
 
 I saw that I had got laughed up into a pretty mess and 
 just how to get out was a conundrum to me. 
 
 "Well," I said, "I can lie myself out, and here goes." 
 
 "Laura, I have made up my mind that I v^dll come back 
 as soon as I can go and see my folks." 
 
 "Good Billy, kiss me for that welcome answer, because you 
 know I love you all the more for it." 
 
 "Well, you girls get my things together and I will start day 
 after tomorrow sure." 
 
 It would have been pleasing to any of my readers to have 
 been there just then. To have seen those girls playing around 
 me ; they acted as though their spirits had turned into rejoicing 
 and on the morning appointed to start I started, and here were 
 all the girls with their ponies, ready to go. "Say, girls, are you 
 going along?" "Yes," says Gyp, "we are going to the states 
 with you." 
 
 "All right," I said. 
 
 Old Whit and his squaw came out and bid me good bye and 
 he said: "Now, Bill, just as soon as you come back I will give 
 you and Laura a good bunch of money besides the cattle ^nd 
 horses." "Good bye, Bill, good bye." "Good bye, old boss," I re- 
 plied, "Good bye to all." And away the girls and I went. We 
 rode southeast until we struck the South Platte and there we 
 camped and we stayed up pretty near all night and had a jolly 
 old time. The next morning I started on my journey and, 
 much to my surprise, the girls started home- And after I had 
 gone about two miles I was so lonesome I could hardly keep 
 from crying. Just then my pony jumped and looked around 
 
78 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 and I heard Laura yell: "Hello, Billy, I am going with you on 
 your lonesome journey." "All right Laura, we will be chums 
 together." "Oh, I am only going for one or two days. Well, I 
 can hardly let go of you, but I suppose I must, and you must 
 promise me you will return as soon as possible." 
 
 Well, of all the nonsense we talked about, words cannot ex- 
 press it. Then, another thing, I shall not tell the particulars — it 
 was too good to give away. 
 
 At last night came and we camped, and two sorrowful 
 hearts were we. "Hell, Laura, cheer up, because there is no one 
 around to cheer us up as you may well know." "I know, Billy, but 
 I've got a 'hunch' that you are never coming back." "Yes, I am, 
 Laura, I could not leave you this way." 
 
 So the night wore on and daylight came and Laura rode 
 with me some few miles that morning and then we stopped. 
 Then the first thought came that she was going to leave me 
 and I would never see her again. And as these thoughts came 
 into my mind it filled my heart with a bitter pang and brought 
 tears into my ey^s. "Billy, I hate to see you go because I fear 
 I shall never see you again." I again assured her she would, 
 and so she kissed me my last good bye and we parted with our 
 eyes both streaming with tears. My heart was low \\ithin me 
 as I camped that night alone. My mind turned back to Laura 
 and my heart ached for her. 
 
 Next morning I awoke with the same dull feeling and trot- 
 ted off across the plains and through the sage brush without 
 eating a morsel to strengthen me and keep up my courage. Poor 
 Laura had to ride home by herself. "Good bye to Laura. Whit- 
 combe, good bye forever." And thus I camped for dinner. After 
 dinner I rode till I came to Jack Morrow's ranch on the south 
 side of the South Platte River and while I was at Jack's ranch 
 I went broke gambling. I then went to North Platte City and in- 
 quired for a job at a hotel and received the same at sixty-five 
 dollars per month of Mr. Boise, who was proprietor. They had 
 thirty-one boarders and I had all the cooking to do and dishes to 
 Wash and wait table. The boarders wei'e all men with the ex- 
 ception of Mrs. Boise. It v/as here that I made the acquain- 
 tance of Bill Cody, later known as Buffalo Bill. He was kill- 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 
 
 79 
 
 ing meat, or furnishing meat such as buffalo, antelope, deer, etc., 
 for his board there that winter. This incident was in the wm- 
 ter of 1867 That was the year the Union Pacific railroad 
 started through there and Platte City was an awful tough place. 
 There was gambling running full tilt and then there was a prize 
 fight between Bill Gardner and Fitz Gearly. Fitz knocked Gard- 
 ner out in the ninth round. Most everybody was drunk and 
 fighting and when the fight was over everybody was drunk and 
 shooting and cutting. 
 
 Jack Sully, or John McCarthy, was there that winter. His 
 home was in St. Paul, Minn. He also ran away in 1860, being 
 fifteen vears old, and he came to St. Joe, Mo. and hired out to 
 whack mules to Denver, Colorado. There he received his nick- 
 name Sully. 
 
 "Wild Bill" (Wm. Hickok) was also in Platte City that win- 
 ter. He was as you all know a noted scout and champion Indian 
 fitrhter "Wild Bill" was game and square. Had no bravado. 
 He never hunted trouble, but anyone who was hunting it need 
 not look further. He was always wilHng to drop a quarrel if the 
 other fellow was. He was killed later in Deadwood, S. D. He 
 was shot in the back by a person whose name has slipped my 
 memory. 
 
 "Wild Bill" is buried in the Deadwood cemetery, with only 
 a roadway between him and his noted companion, "Calamity 
 Jane," the greatest woman Indian scout ever in North America. 
 "Calamity Jane" was large and portly, with golden hair, and 
 was good looking. Before she went into business she was a 
 scout in protecting wagon trains operating from Chamberlain, 
 S. D., to the Black Hills, on the Black Hills trail. She was 
 beloved by the common people and died rich, worth about $20,- 
 000 00 She ran a large sporting house in the Black Hills and 
 made all kinds of money, but would and did give freely to all m 
 trouble, men, women or children, or to any philanthropic move- 
 ment for the benefit of society in that locality. She donated to 
 the churches of all denominations. 
 
 To return to mv story. I left Platte City in the spring of 
 1868 and went to my home in Davis County, Missouri, at Gallatin, 
 where I had left a mere lad, and returned a grown man to find 
 
80 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 all my people living but none recognized me. They all supposed 
 I was dead and in my grave. But when at last they recognized 
 me there were tears flowing down every cheek in the house, 
 even mine. 
 
 I found everything so changed that it never seemed like 
 home to me after that. I stayed at home till in the latter part of 
 May and then I went to Jones County, Iowa. There was where 
 my mother's people lived and I saw all her sisters and brothers. 
 Then I freighted down to Black Hawk county, Iowa. There I 
 became acquainted with a young lady, Martha A. Harmon, my 
 cousin, whom I wedded shortly after our acquaintance. We 
 raised a family of ten children — five girls and five boys. 
 
 William M. Harmon, born May 1st, 1869. 
 Harvey E. Harmon, born Sept. 23, 1870. 
 Henry F. Harmon, born Feb. 29, 1872. 
 Rosamondhurtie Harmon, born Dec. 19, 1873. 
 Hannah C. Harmon, born Sept. 1st, 1875. 
 Clarrissia V. Harmon, born Mar. 9, 1877. 
 Leroy C. Harmon, born Jan. 10, 1879. 
 Nellie M. Harmon, born Sept. 7, 1880. 
 Elsie J. Harmon, born Apr. 18, 1882. 
 Joseph N. Harmon, born Nov. 11, 1883. 
 
 After we were married we left Iowa and went to Missouri, 
 from Missouri back to Iowa, from Iowa to Nebraska, from Ne- 
 braska back to Missouri, back to Iowa and from Iowa to South 
 Dakota. Then we went back to Nebraska. Then back to South 
 Dakota and at this writing I am in Alberta, Canada. 
 
 I lived in Lyman County, South Dakota, for several j^ears, 
 and there are a few little incidents there which I will rehearse. 
 I crossed the Missouri River at Chamberlain. I had a one horse 
 buggy. From Chamberlain to Oacoma, it is about four miles 
 and it took me between five and six hours to make the trip as it 
 was raining and the gumbo stuck to the wheels and I had to 
 walk and carry a stick to punch the mud out from between the 
 wheels because if you did not they would soon roll up and lock. 
 But if you will only stick to Lyman County when it is dry it 
 will stick to you when it is wet. When I came to Lyman County 
 in the e<irly days it was very thinly settled. At that time Chas. 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 81 
 
 Kinzy was county auditor and his salary was $90.00 per year, 
 and J. T. Bartine was county judge. Then he started a Httle 
 law office in Gladstone, or Oacoma as it is now called. Then he 
 was elected county attorney and he used all his power to rid the 
 county of her lawlessness. But just as he was getting nicely set 
 up in business somebody made a sneak on him and burned his 
 office with all his books, which were probably worth about 
 $400.00. But he didn't lay dowTi at that; he started out again 
 prosecuting thieves and rustlers. 
 
 He won great fame in Lyman County and today he is state 
 senator. 
 
 Another is Peter B. Dirks. He was our county treasurer 
 during the hard times and at that time when he was treasurer 
 he had a homestead and I don't believe he could have raised 
 $100.00. But he crawled till he could walk and he had a good 
 lot of sense in that old German head of his. He is now well off 
 and has $100,000.00 to loan on good security. 
 
 Henry Juliff was our county sheriff and he was pretty busy 
 up to the time Jack Sully, my old pal, was killed. While Jack 
 Sully was living the U. S. sheriffs Would be after him for rus- 
 tling while somebody else would be running off stock and Jack 
 would get the blame of it. There is more than one man in that 
 county who got well fixed through other people's names. 
 
 There were the Nelson boys, who brought cattle and horses 
 into the country in early days and stayed by it and today they are 
 claimed to be the largest land owners west of the Missouri River 
 besides being engaged in the banking business. 
 
 Olaf Nelson is now president of the First Trust & Savings 
 Bank of Sioux City and is counted as one of Sioux City's most 
 substantial business men. Nels, Carl and Albert Nelson are now 
 operating a prosperous ranch in Tripp County, South Dakota. 
 
 Then there was John Dillin, who made considerable wealth 
 there and now he is a retail dealer in a general store in Kenne- 
 bec. 
 
 Once there was an Indian who got into trouble with John 
 and he told John he was going to kill him. John just walked 
 away from the Indian and home, the Indian following him, mak- 
 
82 CRAZY — THEKID 
 
 ing threats, and pretty soon it /got old to John and Mr. Indian 
 never made any more threats. 
 
 Pity he didn't clean up on more of them. 
 
 Another man who made good there was Frank A. Martin, 
 lie started in a little hardware store there in Oacoma, but he 
 stayed by it and in a few years he had a large hardware store. 
 Then he built a big general store alongside the hardware. At last 
 a fire took possession and laid his stores to the ground. Now he 
 is in the real estate and loan business in Sioux City. Another old 
 timer was I. N. Auld. When he arrived in Lyman County he 
 had considerable wealth in the line of stock. He had two hens, 
 one rooster, one pig, one calf, but no dog. Also had a wife and 
 two children. He is also a lawyer and one of South Dakota's 
 best criminal lawyers. Today he is considered rich. 
 
 J. R. Pickett and Claud Van Horn were sheriffs fiuring 
 Jack Sully's day and both rendered good service to their country. 
 
 Oh, say, the people used to have big times during circuit 
 court. Judge F. B. Smith was judge. He would order the jury 
 called and he would come up from Mitchell and probably the first 
 case would be a horse rustling deal and was an arrest for grand 
 larceny, and the fun commenced. They would fill the jury box 
 and the attorney would begin to examine the jurymen one by 
 one. Out of the twelve you might find one who didn't have an 
 expressed opinion or didn't have an interest in the thieves or in 
 the stake. It was almost impossible to convict a white man; 
 but let an Indian come up and see how quick he would be tried 
 and sent to Sioux Falls. There wasn't a man on the jury who 
 had ever heard of any Indian stealing in those days. 
 
 If a man had plenty of money he was all right. He would 
 either carry his law suit up to a higher court or if he was 
 convicted he would give bonds for an appeal, then he would cash 
 up to his bondsmen and run away or be reported dead. I had thir- 
 teen head of horses stolen myself and it was one of my neigh- 
 bors, who did it. But I was glad to even hold out on a neighbor. 
 
 It was not Jack Sully that did all the crooked work. 
 
 Jack married King Kade's wife after King's death. He rais- 
 ed a family, giving them all a good education. And they are all 
 ladies and gentlemen in every respect. I am pretty well ac- 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 83 
 
 quainted with some of the old cards that were played when 
 settlers were few. I will just mention "Langford of the 3 Bars." 
 But the party that wrote that book lived or worked in Oacoma 
 and nobody or very few knew who wrote it. 
 
 In 1881 there was a flood of the Missouri River that nearly 
 flooded Vermillion off the face of the earth. I was working for 
 the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railway Co. as lineman, but 
 we were laid off on account of high water then. There was twenty 
 miles of water in width and everybody was making skiffs to res- 
 cue the people from the bottoms and it fell on James W. Franks 
 and myself to go down the bottom about seven miles on a skiff 
 and see if a family by the name of Tom Gunns were all right. 
 We had a jug in the boat or skiff and we had some trouble getting 
 there but at last we arrived and Tom and his two boys were • 
 sitting straddle of the comb of the house and he had nailed 2x4's 
 from rafter to rafter wide enough for his wife to lay upon and 
 by her side lay a two-day-old baby. They were all wrapped up 
 in quilts and looked comfortable. And when he saw us coming 
 he hollered and clapped his hands for joy. We landed our boat - 
 about half way up to the roof and there being a hole cut into 
 the roof we got the woman and baby out and wrapped her up 
 in our overcoats and some quilts and laid her in the bottom of our 
 boat and then got them and the two boys in. Then we pulled 
 out for Elk Point and when we were about fifty rods away from 
 the house it went down in a heap and old Tom yelled and hollered 
 and cried like a child to think that he and his family had escaped 
 a horrible watery grave. When we arrived in Elk Point safe and 
 sound we found about eighty people in the town hall and none of 
 them had any clothes on except their night clothing and the 
 good people of Elk Point furnished all necessary clothing for 
 the flood stricken people. There was only one man drowned. 
 He was found six miles west of Elk Point- 
 In 1892 I was living on White River in Lyman County, S. D., 
 and at the time I was the owner of some fine horses and some 
 cattle and 160 acres of land. I was living on a small bottom 
 of land along the river and the 12th day of February, 1892, the 
 ice in the river broke up and it being up the river from where 
 I lived about twenty miles it came down in a rush and got so 
 thick and heavy that it gorged about one mile up the river from 
 
84 CRAZY — THEKID 
 
 my house and when the gorge broke it came down and swept 
 everything there away. There were two of my sons-in-law at 
 my place at the time, Frank O'Connor and Frank Schooler, and 
 I said: "Boys, hadn't we better get the families and stock out 
 on the hill for when that gorge breaks it will clean this bottom. 
 And they made light of what I was saying. At last as we were 
 standing and watching it it broke and here came water and ice 
 and the boys hitched up to a wagon with a hayrack on and Frank 
 O'Connor drove up to the door and we loaded on. the folks and I 
 got Ma's feather bed and the other beds and the family Bible, 
 then O'Connor drove for the hill, while Frank Schooler went to 
 getting the horses out of the barn. I saved one trunk, one feath- 
 er bed and two pillows, and by the time we had them loaded the 
 water was eight inches deep all around the two houses. After 
 we got to the hill and unloaded Frank Schooler returned to the 
 house and got some bedding and some grub and was not over 
 twenty minutes at it and when he returned to the hill the water 
 was midway on his horses. We saved seven hogs out of eighteen 
 head. We had a granary with 900 bushels of oats and a crib of 
 corn with about eleven hundred bushels and the water picked 
 up both granaries and strewed oats and corn for four miles down 
 the river. I had a chicken house built out of logs and it was 
 notched down at the corners and spiked and we had about a 
 hundred chickens and ten turkeys and four geese and as the 
 water began to raise the fowls began to fly upon the top of the 
 chicken house and at last the water raised the chicken house bodi- 
 ly and away went chicken house and all and they floated about 
 four miles down the river and lodged in some timber- Three 
 days afterwards we were hunting in the ice for some corn for 
 the hogs and the water having gone down it left the ice piled 
 up. So I found my chicken house and fifty chickens and ten 
 turkeys and one goose. 
 
 Anybody who has met a genuine cowboy or cowgirl will 
 find that he or she is a gentleman or lady in every respect. There 
 was a cowgirl up on White River in Southwestern Dakota. One 
 day while out riding after cattle- she ran onto a large gray wolf 
 and her horse being a fast one she stuck her spurs in him and 
 started at full speed after the wolf, uncoiling her lasso as she 
 ran. She overhauled the wolf in about three miles and being 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 85 
 
 swift v;ith her rope she caught him the second throw and she 
 snubbed the lasso to the horn of her saddle and dragged him 
 over the hills till the life was about out of him, then she made 
 the lasso fast to her saddle and killed the wolf with the butt of 
 her quirt. 
 
 There were lots of girls who could rope a steer and throw 
 and hog tie and brand them just as well as a genuine cowboy. 
 Now, some folks think women and girls are no account. But you 
 give a girl or a woman the same chance as a man and there are 
 some women who will discount their own husbands and a girl 
 will make her lover ashamed of himself. Some men think a 
 woman isn't fit for anything except to stay in the house and do 
 the cooking and washing and ironing and to take care of the 
 bawling little brats, while the hubby goes out in the shade and 
 sits down and smokes his cigar or pipe. Man's work is from sun 
 up to sun down. Women's work is from four in the morning till 
 four the next morning. 
 
 Now Lyman County, S. D., in the early days of its history 
 had many cow and horse rustlers. In that and adjoining counties 
 it was a general rule with all stock men to turn everything loose 
 in the spring, then have a general round up in the fall of the same 
 year, and all have heard of men who came out west with nine 
 cows and in the fall when they rounded up the same man had for- 
 ty-seven calves, and this same man brought five good brood mares 
 and when the stock men had the horse round up this man had 
 twenty-seven colts to brand. South Dakota is an awfully good 
 country for stock to increase. Now rustling don't count. But 
 the increase of stock means increase of money and increase of 
 money means increase in rustling. I have lost a great many 
 horses and cattle, but don't say that they were a total loss. 
 
 SONG BY WHISTLING DICK 
 I am a good bull whacker and I whack the Denver line. 
 And I can whip the son-of-a-gun 
 That yoked that bull of mine. 
 And if he don't unyoke him you bet your boots 
 I will try to floor him with an ox bow. 
 
 ROOT, YOU HOG, OR DIE ! 
 When we get our loads and out upon the road 
 
86 C R A Z Y — T H E K I D 
 
 A very awkward team and a very heavy load, 
 
 Have to whoop, whip and holler * 
 
 And swear a little on the sly — 
 
 Come down on them heavy, boys. 
 
 ROOT, YOU HOG, OR DIE ! 
 
 It's every day at noon there's something for to do, 
 
 If nothing else a bull for to shoe. 
 
 Three ropes to throw him down, and nine 
 
 Men to make him lie 
 
 While we drive on the shoes, boys. 
 
 ROOT, YOU HOG, OR DIE ! 
 O, maybe you like to know what we have to eat, 
 A little bit of bread and a little bit of meat 
 And a little bit of coffee and sugar on the sly. 
 That's good for us bull whackers. 
 
 ROOT, YOU HOG, OR DIE ! 
 We arrived in Denver on the second day of June, 
 The people were surprised to see us there so soon, 
 But we are good bull whackers and we know 
 The road is nigh — come on them heavy, boys. 
 
 ROOT, YOU HOG, OR DIE ! 
 
 A short sketch of some of the desperadoes of Southwestern 
 South Dakota will be interesting. 
 
 There was an island located about twenty-five miles south of 
 Chamberlain, on the Missouri River, which was called Phelps 
 Island. Now, this island was covered with large cottonwood 
 trees and among the large timber were cedars growing up which 
 made a dense forest. This island was inhabited by Phelps and 
 Schrader and Matt. Mattson and Cristena Mattson, a sister to 
 Matt. Now, Phelps wanted possession of the whole island and 
 Matt, and Cristena owned a part of the island, so Phelps thought 
 that by getting rid of Matt, he could buy Cristena out and 
 he would come into full possession of the whole island, and then 
 he and his pals could have a good hiding place for stolen cattle 
 and horses. So Phelps hired Shrader to kill Matt. Mattson. You 
 will see later that Cristena was' a good and loyal sister. Phelps 
 was a murderer himself. He killed a United States soldier in 
 the mountains and broke jail and made his escape and after- 
 
TH E C O W B O Y SC O U T 87 
 
 wards killed a friendly Indian in Wyoming and then skulked 
 back to the island where he was safe. He was a full blooded out- 
 law. 
 
 Now, the Missouri River is a big stream and at the upper 
 end of the island the river divided and one half ran around on 
 the east side and the other half ran on the west side of the island. 
 The island was about one and a half miles wide and about three 
 and a half miles long. Phelps and his pals used to run a bunch 
 of horses or cattle on to this island. They would make the stock 
 swim the river and they would hide the stock until they would 
 get a chance to take them to some distant market. 
 
 Frank Phelps was a man five feet eight inches high, with 
 dark hazel eyes and dark mustache and hair. At the time of the 
 murder Matt. Mattson was sitting on the doorstep washing his 
 feet preparatory to going to bed, it being in the summer, and 
 while Matt, was v/ashing his feet Schrader was concealed in a 
 bunch of small cedars which were only a few rods from the door. 
 As quick as Matt was shot he fell backwards into the house 
 and Cristena, his sister, saw and realized what had happened. 
 She jumped and grabbed her brother back into the house and he 
 was nearly dead. There was no one on the ranch, only a small boy, 
 about 10 or 12 years old. His name was George McDonald. 
 After she v.^oke George and had him dressed Cristena barred the 
 door and got all the guns there were on the ranch and she and 
 George went upstairs and having plenty of ammunition she kept 
 on firing a gun about every twenty minutes out of the windov/s. 
 The object was to keep up the firing all night to m.ake the out- 
 laws think she had reinforcements. At daybreak the next morn- 
 ing Cristena asked little George if he would be afraid to cross 
 and go down the west bank of the river to Mr. Knowles and he 
 said he could go and get Mr. Knowles. Cristena said : "George, 
 you tell Mr. Knowles that somebody shot Matt and I want him to 
 get somebody and come here at once." Just at the break of 
 day George started, it being about 8 miles to Knowles', and then 
 there was no one on the island except Cristena and her dead 
 brother. There were hills, gullies and gulches and an awful 
 brushy little lot of wood. Little George had an awful rough 
 road to travel at this time. There were wild animals of all kinds. 
 But brave little George went just the same and brought back 
 
88 CRAZY — THE KID 
 
 Mr. Knowles and several other cow men. They searched the 
 island from one end to the other for two days in hopes of either 
 finding Phelps or Shrader, but could not find either of them. 
 They were both gone, no one knew where, and there was no one 
 left on the island but Cristena and George and Matt, the dead 
 brother. Matt was given a decent burial. Phelps and Shrader 
 were hunted down and arrested and Shrader took the whole thing 
 on his own shoulders and acknowledged he shot Matt so as to 
 let Phelps come into full power on the island, and then he could 
 run things to suit himself. He was sentenced to life imprison- 
 ment. Phelps was taken to Alexandria east of Mitchell and died 
 in jail and was brought back to Mitchell and buried there. Cris- 
 tena lives in Kimball, S. D., and George McDonald is a stockman 
 in southwest South Dakota. This is the outline of the history 
 of Phelps Island on the Missouri River between Chamberlain and 
 Yankton. The island is now owned by Mr. Lime Somers and his 
 loving little wife and daughter. 
 
 A secret society or band of thieves at the forks of the White 
 River had their headquarters there at a lonely store which was 
 run for a blind. In this gang was a shrewd little lady with black 
 hair and black eyes and as smart as a whip. All plans for steal- 
 ing were directed by her and their thieving brought terror to 
 the pioneer stockmen. 
 
 A sketch of Oacoma, S. D., April 22, in the indictment of 
 Joseph Demarschi, a halfblood Indian, for cattle rustling and the 
 action of Judge Garland of Sioux Falls last week in holding him 
 for trial at Deadwood next month brought to light a remarkable 
 story of the formation of an unrevealed thieving society in which 
 this little black eyed woman played. This Circle Society, as it 
 was known, was known all over, all stockmen dreaded them. I 
 was personally acquainted with those parties of whom I speak. 
 They were bound into a regular blackhand society, operating sys- 
 tematically and were so secret that anyone might be at one of 
 their meetings and would not know what was going on. 
 
 This happened in southwestern South Dakota. The Circle 
 Society held their monthly meetings either at the store or at 
 Demarschi's ranch. The officers of the society were Myer Win- 
 ter, president; David Colomb, vice president; Mrs. Myer Win- 
 ter, treasurer and Joseph Demarschi, secretary. Myer Winter 
 
THE COWBOY SCOUT 89 
 
 and wife left the country and went to Arkansas and the rest of 
 the Circle Society are either in prison or awaiting trial. 
 
 Now, my readers, you may think that there are some big 
 stories in this book, but they are all facts and anyone having 
 any of my writings will need to but ask me in person and I will 
 answer any question that they may ask me in regard to any 
 article wi-itten in this book and any person buying one of my 
 books and who thinks he didn't get the worth of his money can 
 return the book and get his money back. 
 
 JACOB C. HARMON, 
 Consart Postoff ice, 
 
 Alta., Canada. 
 
 In the winter of 1863 I was a sentinel on guard and orders 
 were to let no one outside or inside of the guard line unless they 
 gave the proper pass word. There was a lieutenant of Co. B., of 
 the 11th Missouri Cavalry who went out in the afternoon and 
 did not return until after night and he came to my post where 
 I was on chain guard and I halted him and told him to advance 
 and give the countersign. He advanced and said he belonged 
 to Co. B., the 11th Missouri Cavalry and wanted to go to his 
 quarters. "I can't," I said, "unless you give me the countersign." 
 
 "I have no countersign." 
 
 "Well, then, you holler for the sergeant of the guard." 
 
 "I won't do that, for I am your superior." 
 
 So he stayed there until the guard relief came up and he had 
 one of his feet frozen so badly that he had to have two of his toes 
 cut off. There being only my company of my regiment there I 
 was brought up before Major Kelley, the commanding officer, 
 and was court martialed and got three months, ball and chain, in 
 the guard house, for doing my duty according to the military reg- 
 ulations. So you see a private has no chance when he goes up 
 against the big fellows. 
 
 On Sand Creek at the. time of the massacre Husky, my 
 bunky, (B. F. Manard), slipped around a teepee and killed a buck 
 
90 ' CRAZY — THEKID 
 
 Indian who was standing in the door of the teepee shooting with 
 a bow and arrow and as Husky was leaving the old squaw picked 
 up the bow and arrow and sent an arrow through the thick part 
 of Husky's leg. He pulled it through, turned and shot her dead 
 with his revolver. 
 
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