and the oxen became unable to pull, and that the ranchmen traded one well animal for two footsore animals – even trade, two for one. Then they kept the footsore animal for a time until their hoofs grew out, and traded again. By keeping a supply of well-broken oxen which could be put right under the yoke, they had managed to build up a large business, and occasionally to sell yokes of oxen at large prices for cash, and they had made considerable money. They had a large stock of goods.
There was an Indian sitting down in front of this ranch when we went there, but the Gilmans said that the Indian was a poor, worthless and harmless fellow, who would do nobody any injury. The Indian name of the elder brother, J.K. Gilman, was We-chox'-cha, and of the younger, Jud Gilman, the Indian name was Po-te'-sha-sha. I was told that the first name meant 'the old man with a pump,' and the other, 'red whiskers.' There was an iron pump out in front of the
house, and the younger had red whiskers. The Indians gave every white man a name. They could not understand why a white man should have a name that did not mean anything. We made arrangements with the Gilmans for beef for the post, subject to the approval of the district quartermaster. And we also arranged that they should not sell all of their hay, so that in case we needed some in the spring we could have it. The Gilmans told us that the Indians would not begin their depredations until the grass was high enough for their ponies. That we might expect trouble about the first of June next. All the prophecies J. K. Gilman made came true, and the information which he gave proved to be sound and sensible. He was a very capable, intelligent man, as was also his brother, although the older was better informed. They were men who would make good citizens anywhere, and how they should be out there in that lone ranch trading with Indians and pilgrims, was a great deal of a mystery, unless it could be explained by the profits of their business. The older Gilman told me that their stuff there around them was worth more than $50,000, and that they had large quantities of supplies in back rooms for the purpose of handling the trade. They also said that they had gotten acquainted with all the chiefs of the Sioux and Cheyennes, and had induced men as agents to go out and live with them, and sort of take orders; that is, to influence trade to come to them, the Gilmans, on a percentage.
Gold was discovered in Colorado May 7, 1859, at Idaho Springs, by a man, it was claimed, named George Washington Jackson. Soon afterwards a heavy emigration from the States to there set in.
Shortly after Thanksgiving, about the first of December, a large train came down from the west. There must have been fully two hundred persons in it, and about the same time some travelers came up from the east, so that one evening MacDonald, the owner of the ranch, announced that they were going to have Masonic services in the second story of his ranch building. I was not a member of that organization, but I saw a number going there, and it was a surprise to me how all of the persons of that congregation could get into that one upper room. I afterwards spoke of it to MacDonald, and he went and got out his Masonic apron and a lot of paraphernalia, and said that he had been at the head of a lodge in the East, and was going to establish one as soon as enough people in the country could come to it.
One thing that was remarkable was the number of skunks in the Platte valley. They were playing hide-and-seek all over Fort Kearney while we were there, and ranchmen said that they were plentiful, and a great nuisance. We had hardly got established before they were in and out the floors and the stables, and other places where they could hide, and they appeared to be as tame and playful as kittens. It was not long before in our new post they became an insufferable pest.
We still kept on at work improving our quarters. We dug and curbed up a well. We made a flag-pole out of cedar trees trimmed down, and joined up by the blacksmith. It was a great occasion. It was a beautiful tall and slender pole, and we set it deeply in the ground. We needed some more supplies; and were told that we could have two twelve-pound mountain howitzers from Fort Kearney. So we sent down our teams with an escort of a sergeant and ten men that brought us back the two howitzers, a lot of artillery ammunition, new tools, rations, and supplies. These two howitzers we mounted on the parade-ground. Captain O'Brien had belonged to the artillery early in the war, and thoroughly understood the handling of these light guns. Squads were put to work drilling on these howitzers, so that in course of time every man in the company could fill any place on a gun squad. About the fifteenth of December, while drilling the squad, some Indians were seen over on the island of the Platte north of the post. It was thought best to give them a scare; so the two pieces were run to a good place north of the post, near the river, and fired at the Indians. Our shells fell short, but the Indians scampered to the north bank, and were soon out of sight. In a day or two afterwards there suddenly appeared in the post an old Indian, together with a young buck of about twenty. He came up to me, saying, 'How-cola, How-cola,' the word 'Cola,' in the Sioux language, meaning 'friend.' He made a sign that he wanted something to eat, so I took them both to the storehouse, and told the commissary sergeant to draw out a quart of molasses into a mess-pan, and give it to the Indians with a box of hard-tack and let them eat what they wanted. The amount which they consumed was enormous. I went out to inquire how these Indians got in, and where they were from. Some civilian whom I didn't know, talked with the Indians, and they said they were with their tribe a long distance south, but had come north to see their white brother, and see what their white brother would do for them. They were probably spies. Several of the boys stood around in wonderment, watching these Indians eat. Each one of them ate as much as five men ought to be able to hold. The weather was cold, and they were not very warmly clad, but each one had a fine tanned buffalo-robe as soft and flexible as velvet. I wanted to find out something from them, but while I was hunting for the man that knew, these Indians started on a trot, and went up the canyon one behind the other, and were seen no more. We ought to have put them in the guard-house and held them.
Ever since I came to the post I had made it a custom to give the Loyal League hailing-sign to the men who were passing in the trains, but I rarely got a response. Not one man in five hundred knew what it meant. Not one in five hundred seemed to care whether the Government won or lost in the Civil War. They were either deserters from the army, North or South, or were out for cash only.
Chapter VII.
Retrospect – The Wind Storm – Reconnoitering – The Last Buffalo – An Indian Spy – Pilgrim Whisky – Sales to Indians – The Local Population – The Iron-gray Horse – Cantonment McKean – Fort McPherson – The Cannon Target – Description of Cannon – Arrival at Fort of a New Company – The Supplies – Prices of Articles – The Government Ration
GOING back in a retrospective way over our proceedings at Cottonwood Springs (concerning matters which I did not wish to break the thread of my relation to give), I will recur to a wind-storm that came on October 17th. The air was dry and arid, and a sudden wind came up in the forenoon from the north, unaccompanied by dampness or snow. The wind just blew, and kept increasing in force and momentum. All of our tents were blown down during the afternoon, and during the gale it was impossible to raise them. Our stuff was blown off from the flat ground and rolled and tumbled over until it struck the depression of the arroyo of Cottonwood Canyon. It was a straight, even wind. We soon found out what it was necessary for us to build in order to resist the climate. The pilgrim quarters at MacDonald's ranch was soon stored with what we were obliged to
save. Incredible as it may seem, the wind blew down the stovepipe into the stove, so that it turned one of the covers over to get exit. This heavy iron cover was about seven inches in diameter. When we put it back the stove rattled until again the cover turned over. Jimmy O'Brien said it was an 'Irish tornado,' – that the wind blew 'straight up and down.' Along in the afternoon, our horses that were tied up with picket-rope became frantic, and began breaking away. A two-inch rope was torn from its moorings and the horses started up Cottonwood Ca nyon. There were less than a dozen horses that were left securely tied. These were immediately saddled, and soldiers detailed to corral the stampeded horses, and to keep them together in the canyon. By using iron picket-pins and lariat-ropes, some few of the tents were got up again, toward night, and held in place. The wind blew a gale all night, and got somewhat chilly. Boxes of clothing and hard-bread were rolling over the prairie, bound for the arroyo. We all of us slept where we best could, but most upon the lee bank of the canyon-bed. The wind immediately subsided as the sun rose in the morning, and we had no more trouble with it except to gather up the things. The difficulty with the wind was that it carried the sand and gravel in the air, and made it painful and almost dangerous at times to be where the full effect of the current came, which was mixed with the sand and gravel. The latter seemed to come in streaks. A herder of the ranch told a funny story about a window which was exposed to one of
