Buffalo
Thomas Jefferson Durfey (1846-1931), Osborne County, in the Kansas City Star, May 28, 1911 told of hunting buffalo. "Durfey was asked how many buffalo he had killed in those days. ‘I don’t know–thousands of them. I used to kill from twenty to fifty a day. One day I killed fifty-six. I could have killed hundreds of cows and small bulls. A bull hide was worth more than a cow hide, so we used to pick out only the biggest bulls. I had a way of my own. A herd of buffalo wouldn’t stampede as long as the hunter kept out of sight, so I used to creep up within good shooting distance and kill the big bull that always led the herd. The herd would become excited, but would soon settle down to grazing again and another bull would step out as leader. I would shoot him and then the next one and so on until the herd became frightened away.’
‘In those days there were millions of buffaloes on these plains. I stood once on the divide between the two Solomons [rivers] and looked down on a solid mass of buffalo as far as the eye could see in all directions. The plain was black with them. That herd was forty miles wide and I don’t know how long. I was camped once on the bank of Beaver Creek, which was six feet wide and six inches deep, with swiftly running water. A buffalo heard came to the creek above our camp and drank it dry. For hours the creek bed was dry until the great herd had passed on. In 1872 a great herd of buffalo drank the Solomon River dry and the water in it was twenty-five feet wide and a foot deep. When I first came to live here in the log house the buffalo herds used to stream past the cabin within ten feet of it, but I wouldn’t shoot them then because I didn’t want the carcasses around in hot weather and the thousands of wild turkeys made better eating. I’ve seen three hundred wild turkeys in one drove right here on my place. And beaver, the Solomon was full of them. The last buffalo I saw was in 1875, when a bunch of eight came across my place and I got two of them."
Delaware War Dance
Image: Delaware war dance by Jacob Parks
William Tomlinson in Kansas in Eighteen Fifty-Eight. Being Chiefly a History of the Recent Troubles in the Territory, 35-37, wrote: "Imagine a large opening in the forest, in the centre of which is a huge fire, around which are a number of seats for the old and musicians of the tribe. Beyond the fire, and comprising a circuit of some twenty or thirty yards, is a ring or circle; hard-beaten as an oaken floor, and some ten or a dozen feet in width. Around and around this circle would pass the maidens and braves of the tribe, beating a sort of time to the music, which consisted of bones, hard pieces of wood, tin instruments, &c.; united with the deep, guttural voice of the musicians, about as follows:
H-ah-hum-hah, he-he-hum-haw-hum,
He-ah haw-haw-he-ah, he-ah-hum-mah,
He-ah-hee-hee-eah, he-haw-hum-hee-hee-ah
With a number of variations.
The cause of the present dance, as I learned from the old Chief who first addressed me, was the fitting out of a party from their tribe, who were to leave the next morning on a hunting and war-like expedition to the western part of the Territory. It is a singular fact in history, that the Delawares, though once the peaceful allies of Wm. Penn, have been the most adventurous and dreaded warriors that have roved the western prairies. They have made war upon remote tribes of Indians whose very names were unknown to the Fathers in Pennsylvania, for no other object than plunder, and have even sent out war-parties as far west as Oregon, and the Rocky Mountains. They have consequently declined in numbers every year; while some of the neighboring tribes who have turned their attention to husbandry, etc., have increased rather than diminished in population.
For hours I stood in the position I have described, and gazed on that strange forest scene. The Indian maidens with their fanciful adornments of beads and head-dresses; and the young Delawares tall and stately, with their all-manner of decorations, as they moved, now slow, now fast around the fire-lit circle, were components of a picture on which could scarcely weary of gazing. When, however the fires burned low, and the dancers sank exhausted with incessant action, I threw myself upon the couch of skins prepared for me in the hut of my Indian friend, and slept soundly until morning."
Bread and Corn Dances
Green Corn Dance, 1836, George Catlin
Ed Blair wrote in the 1915. The History of Johnson County about two celebrations in eastern Kansas:
BREAD DANCE. "In the fall of each year a certain number of men, five, I believe, were sent out on a hunt. They stayed three days. On the third day, when they were returning, and were near enough to be heard, they fired their guns, and the men and women in camp go out to meet them. The hunters were taken off their horses and sent to their wigwams to rest. The game is cooked and put in a pile on the ground, leaves having been spread on the ground first. They are also given bread, which has been made of white corn, pounded in a mortar for the occasion. The Indians then dance around the prepared provisions and sing, and then sat down. The meat and bread were then passed around during this part of the ceremony. After this they can frolic all they please. The women had their petticoats decorated with silver brooches and wear all the handkerchiefs they can. Highly colored handkerchiefs were very highly prized by all Indians. The men were dressed in buckskin leggins and moccasins. They also ware (sic) a loin-cloth and blanket.
CORN DANCE. No one was allowed to use any corn, even from his own field, until the proper authority was given. When the corn was sufficiently advanced for use the one who had the authority fixed the date for the corn feast and dance. On this occasion great quantities of roasting- ears were prepared, and all ate as freely as they desired. After this feast all could have what they wished from the fields. This was probably the most highly esteemed peace festival. Very properly it might be called the feast of the first fruits. Another feast was held, but probably not so universally, in the fall, a feast of in-gathering, and one in the spring.
Ripe Melons
Republic County History includes: "The winter of 1862-1863 was very mild, no snow or rain falling, and little freezing weather, no ice forming thicker that a knife blade. The spring opened very early, and Mr. Tuthill broke ten acres of prairie at the Marsh in February, 1863, and had his garden all made by the 10th of March. He had a splendid garden that year, melons being ripe on the 4th of July. On Sunday after the 4th, about 6,000 Indians, principally Pawnees, Iowas and Otoes, camped near Mr. Tuthill's place, and harvested his melons and other garden truck most successfully, but offered no violence to himself or family. After everything on the place had been stolen the chief in command placed a double guard around the garden patch. This action of the chief was very considerate, and highly appreciated by Mr. Tuthill after his property had been stolen."
Pawnee Dandy
Image: Pawnee by George Catlin
"A visitor at the home of a Pawnee chief, in the village on the Kansas River, about the year 1839, described the toilet of the host's son as extremely fanciful. On days when there was not a hunt, the dandy began at eight o'clock in the morning, by greasing his entire person with fat, and painting his face red. Earrings and wampum necklaces were worn, and yellow stripes adorned breast and shoulders. Armlets were placed above his elbows and rings upon his fingers. Handsomely decorated moccasins, scarlet leggings fastened to a belt and bead garters four inches wide, formed important post of the costume. One of the women led his horse before the tent. Its forehead and shoulders were painted red and a feather fastened in is tail. Chains of steel were attached to the bridle and bells to the reins. A scarlet mantle was thrown over the young man's shoulders, and thus arrayed, with a large turkey feather fan in one hand, and a whip upon his wrist, he ambled through the encampment, eliciting admiration on all sides." De Voe, Carrie. (1904). Legends of the Kaw: The folk-lore of the Indians of the Kansas River Valley. Kansas City, MO: Franklin Hudson Publishing.
Traveling
Image: Blackfoot travois, Library of Congress
“. . .most of the Indians encountered by the settlers were friendly. Mounted on their ponies these bands of Indians were changing from one camping ground to another, generally traveling single file at a very moderate pace. Sometimes it took days for all to pass a given point in this manner. They seemingly did not travel at night and usually evening found a goodly number making camp in the meadow a quarter of a mile east of the Stephens’. Their belongings, such as cooking utensils, blankets, buffalo robes, tents, etc. were carried on a drag. To a band placed around the horse’s body would be fastened at each side the end of a tent pole, the other ends resting on the ground. From pole to pole just back of the horse a robe or blanket would be stretched (not too far down or too close to the horse) on this the load was placed, then the lower end of the blanket was brought up over it and secured. Sometimes a little papoose would be tucked in one of these loads.” Source: Nyquist, Edna. (1932). McPherson County, Kansas. McPherson, KS: Democrat-Opinion Press.
Eclipse, River Crossing, Joke, Delicacies
George Throckmorton wrote in Historical Episodes of Early Coffey County: "Mr. LaFetra had just come from Ohio. He had been so anxious to see the Indians and soon after he came in 1869 the Indians were having a big dance. It was the Sac and Fox Indians. They were dancing and going on around the camp-fire and even once in awhile they would whoop it up. Away along in the night and eclipse came over the moon. The Indians were so scared they just hushed up and we didn't see or hear anything of them until the next morning. Then they sent one of their number up to my father before breakfast to find what was the matter with the moon. They said 'It was sick.' An Embarrassed Indian I saw one Indian very much embarrassed one time. He and his wife came to our cabin to buy some flour and bacon. His wife was carrying the papoose on her back in a blanket and he a great, big fellow-was just carrying his rifle. Mother sold him the flour and the bacon, wrapped it up in a stick and handed it to him. He commenced to put it on the wife's back so she not only had the papoose to carry but the meat and flour too. My mother took the papoose off the squaw's back and handed it to him and told him to carry that papoose. He was so embarrassed he just didn't hardly know what to do. But he carried it, at least until they got out of sight.
"The Indians used to camp in our timber when they would be going back to their reservation at Quenemo after they had been out on a buffalo hunt. One time there were three hundred of them camped in our timber. A big rain came and the Neosho river was very high. When it started to go down, of course, it left the bank pretty slippery, but when it got low enough so they could swim their ponies across they started on to their reservation. A good many buck Indians swam across first. Then the squaws would take their ponies. The little papoose the squaw would put in kind of a sack made out of buffalo skin with kind of a puckering string at the top, holding that with a lariat cord. The squaw would hold to the mane of the pony and the pony would swim and pull her and she would pull the papoose in that boat arrangement.
"Some people say Indians never joke, but that is a mistake, because at that time one of those Indians swam across from the other side of the river and as they came up the slippery bank his hands came down in the slippery mud. As they came up, we children (three of us) were sitting on the bank. As he came up, he stuck his hand out and said 'How, How.'
We never were molested by the Indians except on one occasion. The Kickapoo Indians who had the reservation up toward Topeka, had been at war with the Osages farther south and in coming back to their reservation they came through Burlington and got whiskey to drink and were drunk. As they came to our house they wanted in the house. They said they were cold and my mother was afraid as father had just gone from the house to one of the neighbors close by. The Indians pounded on the door and finally threw a spear right through a broken window, almost striking my sister Mary-she was a little baby in the cradle. Mother being afraid, had little Johnny White, who was with us, go out the back door and slip across to where father was and tell him to come home. Just as he came in, another band of Indians rode up from the road. They would yell and whoop. Father got his revolver and went out to where they were, and they just cowered right down. They said they were cold and hungry and white squaw wouldn't let them in. They went on across the Neosho river to their camping ground then, and the next morning they sent one of their men back to apologize for the way they had done. They knew they were off the reservation and were afraid for the consequences. They said they were cold and hungry and too much whiskey. That is, they were drunk.
"The Indians would often decorate their faces fantastically, not only by paint, but by wearing ear rings. Some of the ear rings were very grotesque. For instance, I remember one Indian had a wire from the end of his nose to each ear and little pieces of-tin suspended from each ear.
"Often times Indians, would hardly try to speak English. On one occasion an Indian came to my father when he was piling some lumber. He wanted some tobacco and father said: 'Well if you want some tobacco, grab a hold of that lumber and help me move it.' It happened to be one Indian that was willing to do a little work for some tobacco, so he helped father move two or three hundred of feet of lumber and put it in a pile. Then father gave him a little tobacco. Then he went to the house and wanted something to eat. He motioned to his mouth and tried to make out by signs that he wanted something to eat. Mother said: "I can't understand that." Finally he said: 'Biscuits,' and she gave him a biscuit.
"The Indians boiled the most of their food, so when they would go to cook an opossum or coon, they would just singe the hair off of it and put it in the pot and boil it. Some folks were down from Burlington to see the Indian camp and they wanted to take a taste of the quarry that the Indians, had. They did taste it and just afterwards the old squaw reached down in the kettle and took hold of a string and she had an opossum on the other end of it. The visitors quickly lost their appetites.
"On the west of our farm there was a lake that covered about twenty acres. This lake was covered with pond lilies, or as the Indians call them: chink-a-pins. The Indian squaw would often take up these roots; than they would take the hard nuts and crack them, mix them with the chink-a-pin roots and boil to make soup."
Al-le-ga-wa-ho
Image: Al-le-ga-wa-ho, Kansas State Historical Society
The History of Wyandotte County, Kansas edited by Perl Wilbur Morgan states: "Al-le-ga-wa-ho was tall and stately, about six feet six and was long noted as the most eloquent orator of the tribe. He was considered safe and honest in his dealings, and one of the few noted Indians of his day who could not be bribed. He had three wives, one of whom was his special favorite, as will be seen by the following incident: It was always a disputed question whether she or the wife of his cousin, Fool Chief the Younger, was the finest looking. At one time she had been sick for weeks and at last was convalescent, but was very particular and dainty about her diet. She turned away from all kinds of fixed-up dishes for the sick, and longed for that prized Indian dish of dog meat. To gratify her appetite Al-le-ga-wa-ho came to Council Grove and begged for a fat dog, stating that it was the only thing that would satisfy and cure his wife. He found that one could be bought for two dollars, but, having spent all of his annuity money, had to borrow the price from a friend and hastened back rejoicing to his village with the doomed canine. Around Council Grove, when a fat dog disappeared, it was always known where it went. Al-le-ga-wa-ho lived to be a very old man, and died in the Indian Territory years ago.
Chickens
"The fear of Indians still possessed the women. All of the women whose men had gone on the trip would gather at one home for protection. On one such occasion, as the women saw a band of Indians coming, they used their wits. They hurriedly made a dummy representing a man. They placed this in bed with hat and boots protruding from under the covers and a rifle leaning against the head of the bed. The chief looked at the boots and the rifle and grunted. 'Him sick,' he said, 'No, sleeping' was the answer. After a few gesticulations and grunts to his braves, he asked for chickens. The women pointed to the chickens, which were running in the yard. The Indians ran the chickens down as a dog would a rabbit, each of the braves carrying away a chicken. The settlers were never molested by the Indians, except as they begged for food, but the fear persisted." Reminiscences of Early Days in Nemaha County, Kansas. Bern Gazette (April 1940).
Ground Indians and Pawnee Whipping
"Chama meaning 'grandma' in the Indian tongue, told me her mother said that a day's ride west from the Missouri river, there were, once some Ground Indians, who lived in holes dug deep down and that they covered them over with poles and skins and that when these Indians left or were driven west that the covering dropped in, and so made the holes we call buffalo wallows. Aunt Lizza Roubidoux Barrada, a great-granddaughter of Joseph Roubidoux, the founder of St. Joseph, says that when she was a girl and when Chama was a girl that the Pawnees came here a day's ride to the west of her home at the mouth of the Great Nemaha, and stayed and lived for several years, and fought the lowas. She says the lowas whipped them so completely, that they went away and never came to fight the lowas again." Tennal, Ralph. (1916). History of Nemaha County, Kansas. Lawrence, KS: Standard Publishing.
War Dance
Image: 1885 Southwest Kansas war dance illustration
"My meager knowledge of the red man was obtained from books, and the only real live Indians that I had ever seen were at an Indian Show, where were given dances of many kinds, but the one that made the greatest impression on my mind was the War Dance. It was participated in by a dozen warriors clad in fringed buckskin and feathers. Each carried in one hand a large glittering knife and in the other a tomahawk. While the sight of these savage weapons frightened me, the feeling was naught compared to the chill of terror that froze the blood in my veins when I saw dangling from their belts human scalps covered with long hair of many shades. None of it, however, was black, which assured me that it all came from the heads of the white race; the hair on the greater number was so long that I felt sure that it was cut from the heads of women, or men who wore exceptionally long hair, as many of the brethren of my church do. This thought caused me to fear that all Indians might have an antipathy for Dunkards, and as I sat on my horse watching the mysterious movements of the villagers the recollection of the scene at the War Dance caused me to involuntarily pass my fingers through my own hair to satisfy myself that it would not make an attractive scalp. The movements of the Indians were weird and suspicious; the women and children skipped lightly but rapidly from one tepee to another, their bodies bent forward and their faces never turned squarely toward me. While I sat there undetermined whether to approach the village or return to the haunts of the white man, three men appeared and stood facing me. They seemed in earnest conversation and within a short time started toward me. Seeing that they carried no arms my fears vanished. When nearer I could see that one was a white man, the remaining two were Indians. The white man advanced and took my hand and said in good English, “How-de-do, brother.” Until then I had never felt the full force of the salutation. He spoke with a foreign accent and told me that his name was Caspar Valenzo, a Spaniard by birth. The younger of the two Indians was Grey-Eagle, who after became famous as a chief of the Cherokees. The elder was Chief Flat-Foot, who was then in his dotage and by his method of computation was more than a hundred years old. From the time of entering the village I was the inseparable companion of Valenzo and Grey-Eagle. Thrice daily I thanked God for directing my steps to these people. From Grey-Eagle I learned much that was good of the Indians. From Valenzo I learned much of the Spaniards, their customs and religion which was the Catholic faith. Valenzo had been with this tribe for many years and had married the only daughter of Chief Flat-Foot, and to the pair was born a daughter, Mona Lona, who became the idol of the tribe and today the memory of her is held in reverence by the people." Shults, J. W. (1911?) The legend of Geuda Springs. Wichita, KS: McCormick Armstrong Press.
Red Devils
Image: Fort Zarah, cover of 1966 Kansas Historical Quarterly
"Homer H. Kidder in his 1912 Biographical History of Barton County, Kansas wrote: "From Kansas City Kit Carson, Mr. Bent, Charley Rath and myself went up the river to Leavenworth; there we joined a mule train of about ten wagons. We came by way of Topeka (then quite a small town), and Council Grove. In September we arrived at the mouth of Walnut Creek, and went into camp about an hour before sunset, and, while knowing full well that we were 100 miles from the nearest white settlement, yet we saw large numbers of human beings coming to us on horseback, which, on their arrival, proved to be wild Indians; but as they were peaceable at that time we had nothing to fear, and upon taking a view of the broad green prairies, dotted here and there with clusters of Indian lodges and groupes of ponies, and in the distant background could be seen large herds of buffalo, waiting quietly to become food for the Indians. It was truly the happiest hour of my existence—for it was my first sight of wild Indians and buffaloes.
"The Indians arrived at our camp and dismounted, and, after shaking hands all round, with their 'how, how,' they sat down, we all smoked the pipe of peace, and after spending an hour or so in a chat, we all lay down on the ground for a sleep. Next morning several Indians with Kit and myself went out on a buffalo chase, and within half an hour ran into a fine herd of them, and after a short run we had several of them lying dead on the ground, some killed with arrows by the Indians and some with our bullets.
"We remained in the Indian camp several days, for rest, and decided to open a trading post with them; and, after a few days more were spent in an Indian feast and making our camp convenient for business—building a corral for our stock, etc.—we opened up and sold such goods as we had brought for that purpose. After several weeks of life with the Indian families, enjoying the company of the beautiful Indian maidens, eating out of the same skillet with them, and partaking of their dish of 'fat dog,' I bade my dusky beauties adieu, and went up to Fort Larned to accept the situation of clerk in the quartermaster's office for the winter. At that time Fort Larned was a small adobe fort. We had a long spell of intensely cold weather, with considerable of 'the beautiful snow' on the ground; and during that winter many freighters lost much of their stock by freezing to death and stampeding and remaining with the buffalo. Several 'bull-whackers' also froze to death that winter. But, as everything has an end, so did our bitter cold winter, and with it came our spring, when I resigned my clerkship and returned to Walnut Creek, where I built a ranch that lasted me many years during my frontier life. I located it close to the creek for the purpose of obtaining water without endangering myself from the hostile attacks of the Indians, who were then threatening to break out and go on the war-path. I had not half finished my ranch (it being slow work to cut the sod with an ax), when the Indians made a break on some freight trains enroute to Mexico, cutting off some of the hind wagons, capturing the stock and killing the drivers. This of course opened the warfare and put us all on our guard. I finally finished my ranch, and began to trade for poor and lame cattle that were brought from Mexico by freighters and drovers; and during that year found myself in possession of a nice large herd of cattle, and by keeping them well guarded from the Indians I lost none of them. During the year the Indians made a great many attacks on trains, seldom falling to get the best of the bargain and carry off the scalp of some poor unfortunate who happened to be away from the main party; but as the season closed the Indians retreated to the Medicine Lodge, where they spent the winter, and made ready for a continued raid and a season fight of plunder and massacre next year.
"The winter being a very mild one, my herd of stock went through in fine condition, and in the following year I increased the herd to several thousand head, and as the freighting season again opened, everything seemed lively. It was nothing uncommon to see 100 wagons in a double line, moving across our 'Great American Desert,' and it was almost a daily occurrence to see from 30 to 100 "Prairie Schooners" at once. These wagons, when under a full load, would contain from 4 to 6 thousand pounds, and were hauled by six yoke of oxen or six mules. All these wagons would camp on the creek, at or near my ranch, making it contain quite an army nearly every night. Such nights would usually be spent in telling yarns until a late hour, when all would take their 'gunny sack' and lie down for sleep on the ground, except the night herders who were constantly on the watch till the break of day when they drove in the stock. In a moment all was astir, and within half an hour on the move, and I left alone again, with the exception of my hired help. Thus the season continued, except an occasional attack on some poor pilgrim or unguarded train, in which, after a few moments of the most intense excitement, the Indians would usually come out victorious, having one or more bloody scalps at their belts, and were stampeding the stock across the prairies at full speed.
"While engaged in herding my cattle one day one of my men (Jack) being near by but out of sight, fishing in the creek, a small war party of Indians came up from the river near by, and seeing a mule train about a mile off, they all made a dash on the train except one Indian, who, upon seeing me, set up such a yell as only a red devil can give, and with a drawn lance made a dash at me with the utmost speed, intending to run me through. When about a rod from me I fired. With a piercing yell he jumped from the pony, the blood spurting from his bare breast. As he came to the ground we clenched, each one trying to get away with 'his Injun.' Part of the time he was on top, then again I had him down; and he, though weakening from loss of blood, got a knife from his belt and made a lunge at me, while I was grasping him in a genuine rough-and-tumble for dear life, and trying to restrain his hand. He finally succeeded in thrusting the knife through my hand, and was about getting away with me, when my herdsman came in timely to the scene of action. The Indian relaxed his hold of me and fell to the ground, with a bullet through his head, and before he breathed his last I had his scalp with his own knife; and, while he has 'gone to the happy hunting ground,' I still carry 'as a trophy' the scars of that event and the long scalp of my enemy. The Indians would occasionally make a dive on some train and get the worst of it, having their scalps taken, which all white frontiersmen would do whenever they killed a red-skin. This was done, they said, to keep the dead warriors from going to the 'happy hunting ground,' the Indians claiming that anyone loosing their scalp will never go there.
"And so the season wore on; we usually got our supplies from the passing trains; so that, in reality, our life was an easy one, yet full of excitement on account of the Indians who often tried to get our stock, but failed; until September, when they made a grand successful rally, and drove off all my stock, killing my herder. The loosing of several thousand head of cattle gave me the blues, and shortly after I accepted a situation as mail carrier on the Santa Fe stage line of Barlow, Saunderson & Co., where I remained more than three years, but still keeping up my ranch, having to pass it weekly going out and returning to the States. During that time I crossed the plains 150 times. During the fall of 1867 the Indians attacked a mule train, enroute for Mexico, near the mouth of Walnut Creek, cut off an ambulance from the rear end and killed an old lady and gentleman, cut the old lady in quarters, piled her clothes in the remains and set them on fire, and carried off the bleeding scalps of both at their belts.
"This was the year that Fort Zarah was built and occupied by troops. During this same fall, a short distance this side of Walnut Creek four government teams loaded for Fort Larned were attacked by Indians, who succeeded in killing and scalping the drivers, and running off the stock. The Post Commander, thinking it not a safe place for him, kept his quarters, and gave us what we could get oust of the wreck; we went out and made a nice haul of coffee, sauerkraut, beans, flour, sugar, etc. Cow Creek crossing had many a fight between freighters and Indians, and many killed on both sides. Once, when a small party (three men and one woman) with an ambulance, were going to Fort Harker, they were attacked about a mile east of Cow Creek crossing; they stopped over a deep buffalo wallow, and all got down into it for protection. While in this condition a company of troops commanded by a captain who had been sent out to look after them, came up on the west bank of Cow Creek in plain view of the scene, and after looking at them a few moments, turned his command around for the west, without attempting to render them any assistance. One sergeant in his company begged the captain to cross the creek and relieve them, but instead of so doing the captain put the sergeant under arrest and returned to Fort Zarah with his company, thus leaving the small party to perish at the hands of the red devils, which they most certainly would, had it not been for the timely arrival of a dozen scouts on their way from Fort Harker to Fort Larned, who arrived on the spot just as the deserted party had used their last shots at the Indians. They killed three or four Indians, and on the other hand the Indians wounded the entire party. The cowardly captain was cashiered and dismissed from the service for the act.
"We raised onions, tomatoes and potatoes, that year (1867) near the ranch on spaded ground, they being the first vegetables ever raised in Barton County by white men. We had rains enough to keep them in good growing condition, and they matured of good size, and shape. That fall everything went on in the usual way, the Indians taking the west end of the road above and around Fort Dodge. A mild winter followed; and when spring returned so did the Indians, who kept up their attacks during the summer at every opportunity. They kept things livelier than usual for us.
"During the fall of 1868 we fought the last Indian fight of Barton County, four miles below where Great Bend now stands, on the Arkansas river. We numbered twelve men and the Indians about seventy-five. We fought them for three hours, killing and wounding several, also killing several ponies. We lost two men in that engagement; shot with both bullets and arrows. The Indians finally left the battle ground, carrying of their dead and the battle ground, carrying off their dead and I sent my colored man out for some stray stock; the Indians cut him off from the ranch, captured him, cut off his feet and one of his hands, skinned the muscles off his limbs, skinned the whole top of his head—taking every hair, ripped him open from end to end, and left him. He crawled several rods in that condition, until he reached an elevation in sight of the ranch, and expired.
"During the same fall, and a short time previous, the Indians killed and scalped a white man of mine, near where now stands the Great Bend stock yards. Another engagement was had in September, (I think), that same fall, only a short time previous to the last one mentioned, just this side of Walnut Creek, and near where the railroad bridge now is, between the Indians and soldiers of the Fort. The red devils captured the teams and killed some of the soldiers. Indian fights were frequent along the Santa Fe trail, that season, and many of good white man was put under the sod on that account. Cholera extended from ranch to ranch, nearly crossing the plains, in 1867, and many died in consequence.
ANOTHER INCIDENT
"We are informed by Mr. T. J. Richardson, a settler near Rush Center, that in September, 1860, while returning from a trip over the Rocky Mountains, he stopped over night at 'Peacock's Ranch,' an abode concern then situated a short distance below the Walnut, about where Fort Zarah was built. There he learned of the massacre of Mr. Peacock and five others, part of them members of his family, by the Kiowa Indians, one or two weeks previous. One man escaped whose name he did not learn. Our informant did not know where Mr. Peacock was from and did not state how long he had lived at the ranch. The Indians carried off all the stock connected with the ranch and committed sundry other depredations on emigrants."
Trail of Blood on Ice Refugees
Image: Opothle Yahola, Muscogee Creek leader of the refugees
A. B. Campbell, a surgeon who visited the Trail of Blood on Ice refugee camps in Fort Row, Kansas, that contained 3,1680 Muscogee Creek with 53 slaves and 38 freedmen; 777 Seminole, 136 Quapaw, 59 Cherokee, 31 Chickasaw, and more coming each day, stated, “It is impossible for me to depict the wretchedness of their condition. Their only protection from the snow upon which they lie is prairie grass and from the wind and weather scraps and rags stretched upon switches. Some of them had some personal clothing; most had but shreds and rags which did not conceal their nakedness, and I saw seven varying in age from three to fifteen years without one thread upon their bodies. . . .They greatly need medical assistance. Many have their toes frozen off; others have feet wounded by sharp ice or branches of trees lying on the snow. But few have shoes or moccasins. They suffer with inflammatory diseases of the chest, throat and eyes. Those who come in last get sick as soon as they eat. Means should be taken at once to have the horses which lie dead in every direction through the camp and on the side of the river removed and burned, lest the first few warm days breed a pestilence amongst them. Warde, Mary Jane. (2013). When the wolf came: The Civil War and the Indian Territory. Fayetteville, AR: University of Arkansas Press
Sumac
"Again while on the subject of tanning, no doubt, you have seen articles of clothing made by Indians from the skins of animals. Always they are of a yellowish tinge, regardless of the animal from which the hide is taken. The reason for this is because the native Indian invariably uses sumac, which Jaramillo states grew wild then when he was in the country, and it is very common now. The method to tan with sumac is to gather the leaves which contain all necessary properties, which without any other process gives the creamy, yellow color of the chamois skin. And further, it is known that this same plant will yield a red and other colors from its roots if properly treated.” Stowell, J., & Cornish, George Bancroft. (1908). Don Coronado through Kansas, 1541, then known as Quivira: A story of the Kansas, Osage, and Pawnee Indians. Seneca, KS: Don Coronado Company, 165.