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СКАЧАТЬ alive. They then strapped the body of their dead friend on the top of the coach, and after dressing the wounds that had been inflicted by the desperate murderer, as best they could, the coach rolled on for the East.

       “ The body of the dead man on top of the coach as it pulled into Cottonwood Springs, caused the arrest of the whole party, and developed the facts that after leaving Alkali station the strange passenger suddenly drew a revolver and shot the man Boyd immediately in front of him in the face, killing him instantly. He then wounded another before being seized by Mr. Bartels, who turned the muzzle downwards, and the remaining shots went

      44 TALES OF THE COLORADO PIONEERS.

      through the bottom of the coach. When released, he drew a large knife, and the frightened passengers got out in tumultuous haste. Upon this statement they were allowed to proceed. The strange passenger died soon after being thrown from the coach, and was buried by the side of the road.

       “It was learned subsequently that the man had lived in Denver, and being suspected of cattle stealing was ordered off by the vigilance committee. He took the first Coach for the East, and the probabilities are that his fright unsettled his mind, and he had attacked what in his delirium were his foes. His name was never learned, and perhaps his friends in the East, or over in ‘Faderland,’ are still awaiting his return.”

      CHAPTER IX.

      REMINISCENCE OF A FREIGHTER.

       “Twenty odd years ago,” said Mr. G., “supplies for all the country west of the Missouri river were furnished by wagon trains, and the Pawnees, Sioux and Cheyennes were the lords of the public domain. In order to avoid trouble with them, it was necessary for the freighters to gratify their whims, and occasionally feed them when they came about the camp, especially if in any considerable number. We often had to resort to ‘ways that are dark’ in order to get even with them. I was camping once with my freight trains down on the old overland route, and just about dark a band of Cheyennes, numbering probably thirty or forty, and headed by a venerable dilapidated looking sub-chief, came trailing over the

      REMINISCENCE OF A FREIGHTER. 45

      country and pitched their tepees directly across the road from us.

       “The chief immediately called to pay-his respects and beg a little tobacco, as his ‘teeth were very sick.’

       “It being late to receive, we were not again visited till next morning about ten o’clock, when a large, fine buck came over, very hungry, ‘a good friend of the whites,’ and would like ‘something to eat.’ We cast around for some little delicacy for him in the way of bacon rinds, wagon grease, etc.—but the larder was empty. We were about to send him away unfed when one of the party thought of a camp kettle containing about a gallon of boiled beans that had soured before we could use them, and which we had forgotten to throw away.

       “He rustled around and set the spread for the innocent and guileless child of the desert, and by signs and lingo, earnestly cautioned him not to get away with all of them as we intended to warm them over for dinner. The red man had ears but heard not, and stolidly devoured those beans with an appetite of an anaconda. Then offering profuse thanks for the elegant repast, and wiping his mouth on the skirt of his Prince Albert, he withdrew to his tepee with the grace of a Chesterfield. After an hour or so we were aroused from our afternoon nap by a thundering rumpus. For a moment I was uncertain where I was, and what the deuce was going on. There was a terrible commotion at the Indian camp. The old chief came rushing over and charged us with having poisoned the bean-eater, and said he must have some whisky at once to save his life. We protested that he was not poisoned, that he had been gluttonous and had eaten a gallon of beans. We handed the old man the

      46 TALES OF THE COLORADO PIONEERS.

      bottle containing about a quart of ‘valley tan’ whisky,

      and intimated that if he drank that all down, the beans

      wouldn’t get a chance to kill him. He looked at the bot¬

      tle as if suspicious of its contents, and tipping it to his

      lips, put himself outside of perhaps two-thirds of the

      compound, and then pulled out for the sick bed of his

      brother.

      “The howling increased, and with the screeching of

      the squaws and barking of the dogs, produced a veritable

      pandemonium.

      “When the twilight shadows were stealing over the

      broad plains, Mr. Lo, who so shortly before ate at our ta¬

      ble, a welcome guest, passed in his chips and went over

      to the majority, a victim of the seductive sweetness of the

      ‘ Bostonian’s pride.’ We did not wait to attend the

      funeral lest the infuriated Indians might wipe us out at

      ‘one fell swoop,’ like MacDuff’s chickens. So while they

      were forgetful of all else save their dead brother, we

      thought it prudent

      ‘To fold our tents like the Arabs

      And silently steal away,’

      Leaving them alone with one good Indian.”

      “One story of a kind produces another,” said Mr. M.,

      “and as this gentleman has brought up the subject, I’ll

      ‘ keep the stone rolling’ by relating a reminiscence of my

      own. In the early days on the plains, it was customary

      for freighters to go by some nick-name; their most inti¬

      mate acquaintances in many cases knew them only by

      such names, and I doubt not many a poor fellow lost his

      life there, whose real name was never known to his fron¬

      tier acquaintances, and whose people advertised in vain

      for news of his whereabouts. I was forced to think ser-

      REMINISCENCE OF A FREIGHTER. 47

      iously of this nonsensical habit in a fight we had with the Indians at Big Springs, down on the Platte. I was known to my associates as ‘Yank Smith,’ and if I had fallen there my people would never have known what became of me. During the fight I vowed to myself that if I came out of that alive I would reveal my real name. When it was over I forgot all about it, and to this day those old associates remember me as ‘Yank Smith.’

       “We were camped at Big Springs, resting our stock after an all night’s drive to get out of the reach of the military post, having slipped by in the night. The order of General Pope, then in command of the department, required all trains to be composed СКАЧАТЬ