Satanta mounted his horse, and taking the whisky with him, he rode rapidly away and proceeded straight to his village. He had not been gone over an hour, when he returned to the vicinity of the post accompanied by his warriors who came in from every direction, to the number of seven or eight hundred. It was evident that the irate old rascal was “on his ear,” so to speak, and it looked as if he intended to carry out his threat of capturing the fort. The garrison at once turned out and prepared to receive the redskins, who, when within half a mile, circled around the fort and fired numerous shots into it, instead of trying to take it by assault.
While this circular movement was going on, it was observed that the Indian village in the distance was packing up, preparatory to leaving, and it was soon under way. The mounted warriors remained behind some little time, to give their families an opportunity to get away, as they feared that the troops might possibly in some manner intercept them. Finally, they encircled the post several times, fired some farewell rounds, and then galloped away over the prairie to overtake their fast departing village. On their way thither, they surprised and killed a party of wood-choppers down on the Pawnee Fork, as well as some herders who were guarding beef cattle; some seven or eight men in all, were killed, and it was evident that the Indians meant business.
The soldiers with the wagon—whom I had met at the crossing of the Pawnee Fork—had been out for the bodies of the men. Under the circumstances it was no wonder that the garrison, upon hearing the reports of our guns when we fired upon the party whom we ambushed, should have thought the Indians were coming back to give them another “turn.”
We found that all was excitement at the post; double guards had been put on duty, and Captain Parker had all the scouts at his headquarters. He was endeavoring to get someone to take some important dispatches to General Sheridan at Fort Hays. I reported to him at once, and stated where I had met the Indians and how I had escaped from them.
“You was very fortunate, Cody, in thinking of that cattle story; but for that little game your hair would now be an ornament to a Kiowa’s lodge,” said he.
Just then Dick Curtis spoke up and said: “Cody, the Captain is anxious to send some dispatches to General Sheridan, at Fort Hays, and none of the scouts here seem to be very willing to undertake the trip. They say they are not well enough acquainted with the country to find the way at night.”
As a storm was coming up it was quite dark, and the scouts feared that they would lose the way; besides it was a dangerous ride, as a large party of Indians were known to be camped on Walnut Creek, on the direct road to Fort Hays. It was evident that Curtis was trying to induce me to volunteer. I made some evasive answer to Curtis, for I did not care to volunteer after my long day’s ride. But Curtis did not let the matter drop. Said he:
“I wish, Bill, that you were not so tired by your chase of today, for you know the country better than the rest of the boys, and I am certain that you could go through.”
“As far as the ride to Fort Hays is concerned, that alone would matter but little to me,” I said, “but it is a risky piece of work just now, as the country is full of hostile Indians; still if no other scout is willing to volunteer, I will chance it. I’ll go, provided I am furnished with a good horse. I am tired of being chased on a government mule by Indians.” At this Captain Nolan, who had been listening to our conversation, said:
“Bill, you may have the best horse in my company. You can take your choice if you will carry these dispatches. Although it is against regulations to dismount an enlisted man, I have no hesitancy in such a case of urgent necessity as this is, in telling you that you may have any horse you may wish.”
“Captain, your first sergeant has a splendid horse, and that’s the one I want. If he’ll let me ride that horse, I’ll be ready to start in one hour, storm or no storm,” said I.
“Good enough, Bill; you shall have the horse; but are you sure you can find your way on such a dark night as this?”
“I have hunted on nearly every acre of ground between here and Fort Hays, and I can almost keep my route by the bones of the dead buffaloes.” I confidently replied.
“Never fear, Captain, about Cody not finding the way; he is as good in the dark as he is in the daylight,” said Curtis.
An orderly was sent for the horse, and the animal was soon brought up, although the sergeant “kicked” a little against letting him go. After eating a lunch and filling a canteen with brandy, I went to headquarters and put my own saddle and bridle on the horse I was to ride. I then got the dispatches, and by ten
