A HOT CORNER ON INDIANS. 



DR. A. J. WOODCOCK. 



It was in late September, 1895, when I 

 first saw Jack Fenton. His outfit and 

 mine met at the foot of the Buffalo trail 

 over the Big Horn mountains. We joined 

 forces for the day, the better to overcome 

 the difficulties which that steep and rugged 

 ■trail presented to our wheeled vehicles. 

 After a day of mountain scrambling, in 

 which we raised our elevation some 5,000 

 feet, we camped for the night at the sum- 

 mit of the pass. There were several old 

 frontiersmen in that mountain camp, and 

 the spirit of camaraderie ran high around 

 our blazing camp fire, while song, tale and 

 jest went around. Finally someone who 

 knew Jack Fenton called on him for a 

 story. In response he said: 



"Boys, I drove my first stake in Kansas 

 and would probably have been there yet 

 if love of adventure and the grasshoppers 

 hadn't driven me to the cow ranges and 

 thence to hunt buffaloes for a livelihood. 

 In the fall of '83 I got together a first class 

 outfit, consisting of 4 good mules, a wagon, 

 ammunition, guns and provisions for a 6 

 months' hunt, and 2 saddle horses to do 

 the hunting on. I ran across a man 

 named Jim Wright at one of the trading 

 posts, and, taking a liking to him, pro- 

 posed to throw the outfits together, pull 

 across the Missouri river and commence 

 work. Jim was a 6 foot, herculean Mis- 

 sourian in the very prime of life, and one 

 of the best shots I have ever seen. He 

 agreed to my proposition, so we pulled 

 out for Sutherland creek on the North 

 side of the Big Muddy, got camp located 

 in a good sheltered place and commenced 

 hunting buffaloes in earnest. Jim and I 

 did the hunting, while 3 men, hired for the 

 purpose, took care of the hides and meat. 



"We had been in camp about a week 

 when the buffalo began to play out. Of 

 course, that meant a trip over the country 

 to look up the herd; so one morning we 

 decided to take a spin around and try to 

 locate them. Before pulling out we told 

 our men to stay in camp and keep a sharp 

 lookout on the stock, as Indians had be- 

 come troublesome down the country and 

 were raising Cain whenever opportunity 

 presented. 



"We had been out some time when Jim 

 reined in his horse and, after sharply 

 eying a heavy fresh trail which we had 

 just cut, said, 



' 'I have a good notion to go back to 

 camp, Jack. This smells a whole lot like 

 Injuns to me.' 



'Yes,' I replied, 'those are horse tracks 

 and they are running a bunch of buffaloes 



toward the forks of Sutherland creek. 

 Ten chances to one they will run over 

 our camp and then h — 11 will pop, for I'll 

 bet every one of those boys is off deer 

 hunting. Come on, Jim, let's hit the 

 trail for camp; it isn't over 10 miles and 

 we can make it in an hour, and perhaps 

 get in ahead of them.' 



" 'An Injun runnin' buffler gits over th' 

 ground mighty fast,' was Jim's comment, 

 as we started on a long lope for camp. 

 We made it in an hour and found our 

 worst fears realized. The camp was in 

 ashes, and not a man, horse or mule was 

 to be found. I had dreamed some pleas- 

 ant dreams that fall about a certain 160 

 acres of land down in Kansas, and a little 

 blue eyed schoolmarm, and if things had 

 turned out right on this last hunt I was 

 to have been the happy possessor of both. 

 But here, inside of 6 hours, things had 

 dwindled to one Sharp's rifle, a 6-shooter, 

 a saddle horse and a buffalo hunter in an 

 ugly frame of mind. Just then Jim rode 

 up and cried, 



( 'Them red devils hain't got the boys, 

 fer thar they come down through the 

 pines, every last one of 'em. We'll give 

 Mr. Injun a run for his money yet. Come 

 on, Jack, brace up. Let's dig up our am- 

 munition cache and hit the trail after them 

 mules.' 



"By the time we had opened the cache 

 and supplied ourselves with ammunition 

 the boys rode into camp. We Were soon 

 ready, and hit the Indian trail, which 

 went East on the South side of the Suth- 

 erland creek divide. It was arranged for 

 me to follow the divide and keep a sharp 

 lookout; Jim was to follow directly on 

 the trail, and the other men were to fol- 

 low on well below it, as it was supposed 

 the Indians would turn that way in the 

 course of 3 or 4 miles. From my point 

 of vantage on the divide I was to signal 

 the others if anything was sighted. 



"About 12 miles down the divide I saw 

 a bunch of stock moving a mile ahead of 

 me, and, spurring my horse to an open 

 point where I could get a clear view, I 

 saw the mules, with 4 Indians behind 

 them. Signaling to Jim, I dashed down 

 the divide, thinking to head them toward 

 the 3 boys under the hill. There was a 

 little snow on the ground, and the bad- 

 lands dirt was like ashes, so not a sound 

 was given out by the hoofs of my run- 

 ning horse. I turned down a coulee and 

 found, after I had ridden y A mile, that it 

 had steep cut banks and that I was on the 

 wrong side of it to get at the Indians. 



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