The Indians yelled in triumph as they saw the officer trying to crawl back into the wagon. Booth was able to grab hold of the rear wagon bow and pull himself to safety.
Meanwhile, Helliwell was receiving an onslaught of arrows as several warriors tried to shoot him from the wagon.
After Booth regained his footing and drew his second revolver, Helliwell called him forward. The Indians were becoming more confident and approaching brazenly close to the wagon. One was within a few feet on the right side trying to string his bow for a shot. All the lieutenant could do was watch hopelessly and call for help as he drove the team forward. Booth grabbed hold of the front bow of the wagon top and sent a shot at the brave, causing him to turn away.
Booth jumped back to the rear of the wagon to try another shot at one of the braves who was closing the distance from behind. As Booth leveled his Remington revolver at the brave, he was surprised to see the rider swing over on the off side of his pony, revealing nothing other than an arm over the pony’s neck and the bottom half of his leg hooked over the back above the withers. The pony’s head as close enough to the officer that he attempted to strike at it with his pistol. Why it never occurred to Booth to simply shoot the animal and allow the pair to crash into the ground, is probably a consideration for those who are not engaged in the panic and desperation of the situation. But Booth waited until the game of dodge and evade was more to his favor. The Indian exposed himself too much and Booth sent a ball into the warrior’s chest. Booth yelled in triumph as the Indian crashed limply into the frozen roadbed. Booth settled on his box of crackers for a moment as he tried to decide the Indians’ next tactic.
Again, Helliwell called him forward. A brave was nearing the right side of the wagon for a close shot at the driver. Booth ordered Helliwell to use his whip on the Indian. The lieutenant lashed the brave across the face, the lash knot striking the warrior in the eyes. The Indian dropped his bow, put both hands to his face and swung the pony away.
Several of the braves stopped to help the man that Booth had shot. Realizing that there was nothing they could do, they renewed pursuit. Using the same tactic of splitting ranks on either side of the wagon, they again sent a volley of arrows into the sides.
Booth took a position on the edge of the wagon box and didn’t realize that his outline could be clearly made out through the canvas. As he started to go forward to aid Helliwell, he felt an uncomfortable tug at his shoulder and noticed that an arrow was lodged into it through the wagon sheet. Booth tore himself free of the arrow and canvas. He found an arrow lodged in Helliwell’s back through the lazy back of the wagon seat. Helliwell ordered Booth to pull it out. Booth eventually jerked the arrow free. He was shocked to see that the arrow had penetrated by a full six inches in what looked to be a dangerous location.
Booth threw down the arrow and started to the rear of the wagon when Helliwell summoned him forward. A warrior had approached to within ten feet and was preparing to launch another arrow. Booth aimed his revolver and pulled the trigger, only to hear the weapon reply with a hollow click. Booth cocked and shouted “Bang!” as he pulled the trigger. The Indian swung over the off side of his mount and turned away.
Booth threw himself back to the rear of the wagon and tried to reload his percussion revolver. He tore away the end of the paper cartridge with his teeth and tried to pour the contents into one of the chambers. The crashing and careening of the wagon made it almost impossible for him to get any of the black powder down the chamber, spilling most of the contents onto the floor.
Helliwell summoned him forward as another warrior made ready for a close range shot at the driver. The empty gun tactic of before didn’t work a second time, and Booth threw the revolver striking the Indian in the ribs, causing him to drop his bow and swing away. Booth turned his attention to reloading their only remaining revolver. As he tried to again pour powder down the chamber, Helliwell yelled that he was shot. Booth looked up to see an arrow flopping through the web of Helliwell’s right hand. Booth yelled that he should pull the arrow free.
Helliwell replied that it wasn’t necessary as he continued lashing the team forward in spite of the arrow flopping through his whip hand. Finally the arrow tore through the flesh and fell free.
Tall stalks of dead sunflowers, as heavy as canebrake were now at the edge of the trail. The warriors tried to crowd the team into the heavy growth in order to cause the wagon to wreck or at least slow to a stop. One warrior tried to jab his spear into the sides of the animals to force them to swing into the growth. One animal thrust itself to the side to avoid the blows while the other threw itself against its teammate to avoid crashing into the overgrowth. Booth stepped onto the footboard and tried to kick the mule back to the center of the road, while Helliwell tried to rein the animals in the same direction. As the warrior advanced to jab at the near side mule, Booth sent his last revolver flying toward the Indian. He missed the rider but hit the pony in the withers, causing the animal to buck out of the rider’s control. As the Indian tried to regain control of his mount, the wagon finally got past the stand of sunflowers.
Booth and Helliwell were now without weapons except for their sabers and scabbards. Luckily, the warriors had also exhausted their supply of arrows. With only spears left, the pursuers tried to get close enough to lance the officers. Booth threw the scabbards and then the swords at those who were closest. With at least a mile’s distance still remaining between the men and the safety of the outpost, Booth turned to the only remaining possible weapons that were left in the wagon. He flung his valise at the nearest rider. He missed but the valise flew open when it hit the ground, dumping Booth’s fancy dress uniform onto the road. The Indians noticed the prize material and held up their mounts. Booth saw them holding up the sashes and other bits of uniform in celebration. Booth told Helliwell that he was going to throw out the lieutenant’s as well. More braves stopped to collect the bounty.
The mules were on the verge of collapse, and no matter how furiously Helliwell lashed them forward, the men could feel the pace slowing. Several of the braves who had not stopped for the valises, attempted to lance the mules.
Helliwell yelled to Booth that they would be better off to die fighting rather than be taken prisoner. Booth answered agreement and suggested that they should fight back to back until they were brought down.
Within a few moments, the mules and wagon rattled over the crude bridge into the safety of the compound. It was only at this moment that Conkey’s troops were aware of the situation. The warriors drew up at the bridge as officers and men poured into the open to surround the wagon and wounded officers. Conkey ordered the bugler to sound “Boots and Saddles,” and in less than ten minutes, ninety troopers were in hot pursuit of the raiders.
Amid the coughing and wheezing of the exhausted mules, Booth and Helliwell, tried to lift their battered bodies from the wagon. Helliwell found that his coat was pinned to the side by lodged arrows, and Booth had to pull several free to allow his lieutenant to free himself. Soldiers counted twenty-two arrows lodged into the buckboard. Helliwell, blood flowing from both sides of his head, was also unable to move his right arm.
The men were guided to the post surgeon and as Booth stood observing the more seriously wounded Helliwell being treated, the post adjutant asked why the captain was standing with his shoulder shrugged. Upon examination it was found that an arrowhead was lodged in the captain’s shoulder. Two officers tried to pull it out but had no luck. Finally, the doctor told them to leave the wound alone and that he would attend to it when he finished with Helliwell. Eventually the arrow had to be cut from Booth’s shoulder having twisted itself into the muscles.
Booth was not seriously hurt but there was some concern for Helliwell. The arrow in his back had almost ruptured a kidney. However, both men were able to inspect the condition of the mules the following morning. The poor beasts would be stiff and sore for days.
Captain Conkey and his troopers returned late in the night having made no co
ntact with any of the warriors other than a single sighting in the sand hills to the south. The following morning a scouting-party of forty men under the command of a sergeant started a sweep toward Cow Creek, northeast of the Walnut. A corporal and one of the recruits made a swing toward the Upper Walnut to search for sign of the Indians. They blundered into the middle of over three hundred.
When they tried to run for the safety of the troops, the recruit panicked and drew his mount’s reins too tight, causing the animal to go out of control as it fought the bit. The recruit begged not to be abandoned as the corporal raced ahead.
Looking back, the corporal saw the recruit fighting his animal as the horse reared and plunged against the bit. The corporal ordered the recruit to give the horse his head and not jerk the bit but the panicked recruit had too little training to respond and too much fear to listen. Within moments the Indians had swarmed around the trooper and, in spite of his screams, it was all the corporal could do to save himself. The recruit’s body was found the following day, another victim of poor training and inexperience.
Helliwell was able to rejoin his wife at Fort Riley. His battery was consolidated from various escort and garrison duties from several posts to Fort Leavenworth the following month. Helliwell went on to serve his unit at Fort Scott, Kansas, until June and then was returned to service at Fort Zarah and Fort Leavenworth until September, 1865. His unit was mustered out of service, September 30, 1865.
Captain Booth saw duty in Wyoming Territory before his discharge in 1865 at the close of the Civil War. He returned to Manhattan and operated a hardware and farm implement business. In 1867, he was elected to the Kansas legislature. In 1869, he became post trader and postmaster at Fort Larned. He assisted with the founding of the city of Larned. He floated his sutler’s store down the Pawnee Fork to the new town site and the little building was credited with being the first saloon, restaurant, church, school, and hotel at various times during the development of the town. He left his job as post trader in 1873 and built a home in Larned. He was elected to the state legislature from Pawnee County in 1873 and served as chief clerk of the Kansas House of Representatives during 1875-1876. Later, as a receiver of the U.S. Land Office, he assisted with the public sale of Fort Larned after it was abandoned.
Throughout the remainder of his life, he never forgot the harrowing escape that he and his young fellow officer had experienced during the war. It was quite a tale of the courage and desperation of two men alone against hostile enemies. In retrospect, it is also an example of the luck and fortitude of citizen soldiers whose lack of knowledge and experience almost got them killed.
Chapter 15
The Buffalo Runners
Quanah Parker
Myths, misunderstanding and legends abound surrounding the American Bison and the men who hunted it.
There were perhaps ten to fifteen million buffalo left on the Plains by the middle of the 19th century. Estimates of as high as sixty million in the 17th century are possible but somewhat unlikely. What can certainly be said is that the beasts were so numerous that inexperienced people would turn in flight at the sight of them when the great herds migrated into view. The herd would appear as a spreading black stain on the horizon as it moved north in the spring. Individual identity of the animals was lost as the herd became one dynamic juggernaut of rumbling hooves, dust, odor and raw power. In the early days, when the numbers were the greatest, hunters felt overwhelmed. They would remain in a single position and shoot the beasts until their rifle barrels became too hot to touch. The shooters would drop hundreds only to witness hundreds more approaching to take their places. Most men could shoot enough of the animals in four hours to keep a skinning crew busy for the remainder of the day, and they would do it day after grinding day during the northern migration of the herd.
In our modern world it is often difficult to imagine the numbers and the monumental environmental effect that the buffalo had upon the plains and the people who inhabited it.
The bison were gregarious animals that were forced to migrate because of their herding instinct. In some areas they had regular routes, while in other sections they seemed to wander at will. The migrations were not extensive enough for the bison to escape the rigors of winter but were “shifts” from a summer range to a winter range determined by the availability of food in a particular season. In traveling from one place to another buffalo always sought the easiest grades to circumvent obstacles, and the trails they left formed the basis for the routes of most of our modern highways and railroads.
Broad depressions were created only when the buffalo migrated en masse. Most of the time the herd was scattered into small herds of fifty to a hundred individuals for grazing purposes. The buffalo trails that are mentioned in many writings of the period were made when the animals made short journeys to water or lounging areas as small units within the massive herd as a whole. The problem of recognizing such trails is that the plains are today covered with agricultural land where the evidence has been worked under during farming activities. In pasturage areas where the soil is too thin to be farmed, most of the grazing lands are covered with cattle. The cattle use exactly the same trails that the grazing bison did, again because modern domestic cattle seek the easiest grade and circumvent obstacles. Buffalo pasturage such as those herds managed by the state of Kansas south of Garden City or at Big Basin between Ashland and Meade, Kansas, look exactly the same as pastures throughout the plains. After all, bison are very little different from domestic cattle in their grazing and lounging habits.
One area where ancient buffalo traces can be seen and followed is at Scott Lake Park north of Scott City, Kansas. A large natural spring is located at the park that has been present for thousands of years. Because of the naturally arid conditions, the springs were a magnet for wildlife and the Indians that harvested them. Thousands of small trails lace the surrounding hillsides of the basin where the springs are located where bison worked from the hilltop pastures to the springs. A person can still find fossilized buffalo bones along the cliff sides and in the shallow canyons, especially after rains wash away part of the topsoil.
Another sign of the once vast bison herds that can often be found on private land are the remainders of ancient wallows or dust baths. These can often be found in the “softer soils” of south central and southwest Kansas.
Bison are exceptionally hardy and can withstand extremes of heat, cold and drought much better than domesticated stock. Living on the treeless prairies, they seldom were able to escape the sun’s rays. Their periods of greatest activity occurred in the early morning and late afternoon. Midday was their time for resting, chewing their cuds and wallowing.
In order to gain some relief from the clouds of pestiferous insects, bison loosened the earth with their hoofs and lay down and kicked the dirt over their bodies.
Once the sod had been stripped off, bison used such wallows until large depressions were formed. Some of these wallows were fifty feet across and two feet deep. The dust filtering down through the bison’s hair choked the insects and reduced their activity. Sometimes rain filled the wallows or the bison urinated there and when they rolled in the mud their bodies became plastered with it, providing excellent protection. With the bison gone, wallow grass entrenched as modern cattle are not so aggressive in such a behavior. Some of these ancient wallows will still show up in farmland during periods of extensive rains, as the depressions still catch rainwater and hold it in shallow mud holes. Over a century of farming practices are slowly working the old wallows level.
A large bull bison may stand 6 feet at the shoulder and measure 11 ½ feet in length. Many weigh almost a ton and there are records of some that went nearly three thousand pounds. The cows are smaller and slimmer, weighing eight to nine hundred pounds.
There is little variation in color among bison; the shadings are from dark brown to black. In the spring the winter hair, which is subsequently shed, may be bleached to a dark tan. Albinism occurs infrequently. The Indi
ans proclaimed such an animal sacred. A fellow named Prairie Dog Dave Morrow shot one in the early 1870s and received a thousand dollars for the hide. There were also some records of pied, or white-faced, bison.
The bison’s humped back is accentuated by long hair that covers the head, neck, shoulders and fore legs. In winter this hair can achieve a length of 8 inches. This unusual physical feature causes buffalo to face into harsh winter winds rather than retreat from them. The animal is considered a form of wild cow that crossed the bridge from Siberia to Alaska during the Pleistocene period.
Herds that covered fifty by twenty miles, containing four million animals, were not uncommon. Migration routes extended to as high as four hundred miles in a season, the herd working north in the spring and looping south in the fall. The largest and the one that crossed the Santa Fe Trail, was the great Texas herd. The herd wintered near the Concho and Pecos and moved north in spring through the Panhandle to the Arkansas, and into Colorado. Comanche, Cheyenne and Kiowa tribes claimed the herd and fought other nations for their right to it. It was for all practical purposes, obliterated by 1876.
Unless one owned a ranch, the quickest way for the common man to make money on the frontier was to turn buffalo hunter. In 1870 bull hides brought two dollars each; cowhides and calf hides twenty-five cents less. Mop hair, the long hair that fell over the bison’s eyes and horns, was worth seventy-five cents a pound. Buffalo tongues were cut out and placed in brine barrels that rode on the wagons. By and large, the rest of the animal was left to rot on the prairie.
Skinning crews used mules and single trees to “roll” the hide off the animals. The hide would be split down the belly and holes would be cut on one side. The mules would then be backed up to the beasts and the single trees fastened to the hide. The mule would then pull the hide from the animal as the skinner trimmed the hide from the meat. Sometimes an iron stake would be driven through the animal’s head to secure it to the ground so the mules could pull tough hides free, much like a fisherman sometimes nails a catfish’s head to a board to be able to skin it.
Heroes of the Santa Fe Trail Page 14
