Ten Years Among the Mail Bags Part 22

The honor attached to the possession of scalps, and the dismal forebodings attending the loss of a beloved chief, make all the tribes particularly cautious that their leaders shall not be too much exposed, and that their slain shall not fall into the hands of the enemy. A reckless daring displayed by a chief, always gives him honor with his tribe, and this is proportioned to the success which attends his efforts and skill, whether in the offensive or defensive.

The mail contractor before alluded to, is a man of great humanity as well as courage, and prefers making now and then a terrible example, rather than wage an indiscriminate warfare with tribes inveterately hostile.

After the tragic occurrences attending the capture and terrible death of Mrs. White, with several others in a party of California emigrants near Santa Fe, the Indians, emboldened by success, seemed to feel that they had the power and did not lack the will to drive all white travelers from the plains. Our "model mail contractor," in addition to the heavy responsibility of conveying from fifteen hundred weight to a ton and a half of the United States mails, often had intrusted to his care, coin and gold dust in considerable quant.i.ties, and the lives and effects of numerous pa.s.sengers.

A usual "mail train" consisted of three covered wagons, with elliptic springs, each drawn by six mules, guarded by eight or ten men, and carrying perhaps as many pa.s.sengers.

Thirty miles a day was a usual drive, and this gave several hours'

rest in every twenty-four. By having plenty of Sharp's rifles, and Colt's six-shooting cavalry pistols, the entire company of men and pa.s.sengers formed a terrible phalanx, able to fire three or four hundred shots without any delay in loading.

The Indians soon learned to _respect_ these parties, and usually gave them a wide berth, not venturing to attack them though outnumbering them by more than ten to one.

Soon after the above-mentioned barbarous transactions near Santa Fe, the mail was on its way accompanied by the contractor himself. One morning, marks of hostile Indians were quite frequent. A large camp was pa.s.sed where the fires still burned, and newly picked bones of buffalo and deer were scattered around.

In the course of the forenoon, several Indians were seen, and at the noon rest, their whole party was in sight, numbering apparently one hundred and fifty or more. The main body kept three or four hundred yards off, but one daring warrior, evidently their chief, would ride in a wide circuit, approaching sometimes within a hundred and fifty or two hundred yards of the mail wagons. He seemed to be reconnoitering; and though the mail party, pa.s.sengers and all, did not exceed a dozen persons, there seemed to be little disposition to attack them. The chief--as he proved to be--was splendidly dressed; the long feathers on his head waving in the wind, and mounted on a milk white horse, he seemed the Murat of his nation.

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A s.h.i.+eld of raw hide, dried in the sun, quite common among the Indians, covered his entire person from his saddle to his neck. Though within rifle shot, his swift riding and the protection afforded by the s.h.i.+eld, gave but little chance for a successful shot. In the most daring and impudent manner he rode several times in a semicircle, reducing the distance between his followers and the little band of whites, at least one half.

The mail contractor told his men to stand by their arms, and be ready for an attack. He then took his Sharp's rifle and lay down on the ground, resting his gun across a stone. He looked across the sights, and saw the chief "wheel his daring flight" within good gun range, but always on the full run with his head just in sight over the s.h.i.+eld.

Each Indian is provided with a rope or _lariat_ made of hide, and this is fastened by one end around the rider's waist, and by the other to the saddle, that in the event of his being killed, the horse will drag off the dead body and thus prevent its falling into the hands of his enemies.

Some accident happened to the chief on the white charger; his stirrup broke, or something took place which obliged him to dismount. He was then about a hundred and seventy yards from the mail camp, and as he dismounted on the farther side, he was no fairer mark than before. It was easy enough to shoot down the horse, but that would accomplish nothing, as the chief was nearer to his friends than to his foes. It was evident that he must, to a certain extent, expose himself, when he mounted, and as he sprang up in his stirrup, his breast for a moment presented a fair mark.

The sharp ring of the rifle was heard, and the chief lay on the ground, while the blood sprinkled the snowy flank of the beautiful charger. He was shot through the heart!

The horse sprung, and the weight of the dead chief broke the _lariat_ clear from the saddle. The consternation among the Indians was terrible. Drawing their knives and pistols, the mail carriers gave a yell, and charged directly at the whole array of Indians. The head of the little band, whose successful shot had so opportunely killed the chief, had given orders not to attack except on the defensive, but nothing could restrain them; and appalled as much by the daring bravery of the whites as by the sudden death of their chief, the warriors broke and fled.

The scalp of the unfortunate Indian was soon stripped from the skull, and, with its dark and flowing locks, formed a trophy of the short combat, and made the subject of a tale around the fireside of the bold and hardy pioneer.

We have room for but one more narrative of border life, and the perils of mail carrying in the backwoods; and this is also an incident in the life of our "model mail contractor."

At a period anterior to the events just related, the mail, with quite a number of wagons, was wending its way toward Santa Fe. The party were near the banks of the Cimmeron, and then in the country of the Arrapahoes. Large herds of buffalo were constantly visible, but no Indians had been seen for some days.

It was a beautiful afternoon in June, the slowly descending sun illuminating one of the grandest scenes in nature--a broad rolling prairie covered with verdure, and presenting one checkered field of animal life. Beautiful antelopes, that flew rather than ran, and scarce seemed to touch the earth; stately elks, with branching horns, gallantly guarding their gregarious herds, and the unwieldy bison, far more numerous than all the rest, numbering hundreds of thousands, and blackening the plain as far as the eye could reach. Our hero of many an Indian skirmish and numerous buffalo hunts, mounted his horse to go and select an animal from the vast herd, which should furnish supper for his party.

He was mounted on a fleet animal, but after getting fairly away from the train, he found he had omitted to put on his spurs. It was in a section of country where small streams form deep ravines, some of them nearly as abrupt, though not as deep as the awful _canons_ of the Gila and the head branches of the Rio Grande. He singled out a fat buffalo cow, and drawing his "Colt," dashed on to get near and be sure of a fatal shot at the first fire. Not being able to spur his horse, the animal led him a rapid race, and taking a path, followed it down a dark ravine, where a slender stream gurgled idly between its banks.

His horse, accustomed to the sport, went faster and faster, and neared the buffalo at every spring, till she suddenly turned the corner of the bank, now near the bottom of the ravine, and some fifty or sixty feet below the level of the prairie. The path that led down the ravine was a gradual descent, and on each side were some scattering trees and bushes.

When the bluff was rounded in pursuit of the buffalo, the animal was but a few yards ahead, and then, for the first time, a fair mark. Our hero was nearly ready to fire, when _whiz!_ went an arrow so near that there was no mistaking its sound, especially to one whose ear was practised in Indian warfare.

The arrow had scarcely ceased its whir, before a mounted Indian came down upon our buffalo hunter, from behind the bank of the ravine. His lance was poised in its "rest," with the b.u.t.t of it firmly against his shoulder. The buffalo pa.s.sed from sight, and the Indian instantly appeared; and before there was a moment for reflection, the "white hunter" had to "wink and hold out his iron."

The lance was a bright piece of steel, about twenty inches long, on a pole of some twelve feet in length. This murderous blade was aimed directly at his breast, and the two horses on a full run in opposite directions. Our contractor had nothing on but a pair of trousers, his red hunting s.h.i.+rt, and traveling cap.

The Indian, with the exception of some long feathers on his head, was naked to the waist. The savage observed the "law of the road," and took the right, and with one simultaneous and almost involuntary movement, the "pale face" dropped the bridle, and with his left arm parried the approaching blow by knocking the lance upward. The blade in its course ripped the hunting s.h.i.+rt, and tore the muscles from his shoulder; and simultaneously with this he fired his "Colt," and saw the blood spirt from the naked breast of the Indian. The slain warrior fell heavily to the ground, while the white man's horse turned suddenly to the right, and mounted the bank of the ravine, which was here so steep, that, having no longer a hold of the bridle, the rider came near tumbling backward.

The surface of the prairie was gained, and near two hundred yards measured off by the horse before the owner had time to gather his scattered thoughts. He attempted to grasp the bridle, but found his left arm quite powerless, not only from the wound on the shoulder, but the stunning effect of the lance on his fore-arm, near the wrist. With a rapid movement he plunged his pistol into the holster, and seizing the bridle with his right hand, drew up his horse and dismounted.

Every movement had been so rapid since going down the path into the ravine after the buffalo, until he emerged in safety on the plain, that he had not reflected a moment. He had done better; he had _acted_.

There now appeared five Indians, all mounted, and not more than two hundred and fifty yards from where he stood. He instantly formed his plan. His arms consisted of his revolver, and a double-barrelled English fowling-piece, one barrel loaded with ball, and the other with buckshot. He unstrapped his gun, kept himself on the farther side of the horse from the Indians, and as they seemed to be approaching him, he made his arrangements. He concluded to wait until they arrived within about a hundred and fifty yards, and then fire with his ball, and if possible, kill the foremost. The other barrel with the buckshot would then be "good" for two more, when he would have five loaded barrels of his "Colt," with only two foes. But the cowardly villains dared not attack him. Four of them retreated, and the other rode a little nearer to reconnoitre.

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The Indian, believing he knew the character of his foe as that of an old hunter, was sure he was armed with one or more "six-shooters." He communicated his thoughts to his red-skinned brethren, by riding several times rapidly round in a circle, this being the sign given by the Arrapahoes when they meet white men armed with "revolvers."

Being satisfied with this view of their foe, and the taste they had had of his prowess, they turned their horses and disappeared down the ravine.

Danger was not yet over, and our friend was determined to be ready for whatever might happen. He rode slowly away for fifty or a hundred yards, and stopped. Thinking he had better have his arms in as good condition as possible, he dismounted and thought he would load the discharged barrel of his pistol. On looking, this trusty weapon was missing. The holster was entirely torn away, and the pistol gone. He went back where he had waited for the Indians, and there lay the pistol on the ground.

In his violent effort to put up the weapon and stop the horse while one arm was totally disabled, he had evidently thrust it in the holster so violently as to tear the leather away, and the weapon unperceived had fallen to the ground.

Having loaded the empty barrel, he again mounted. The sun by this time was just setting. The Indians and the long dark ravine lay between him and the camp, and he took a circuitous route to meet the train.

After going some four miles to the south-west, he came to the road. By the light of the moon he examined the track to see if his wagons with their broad tires had pa.s.sed. There were no ruts but those made by the narrow-tired wagons of a Mormon train that was one or two days ahead of them. He then followed back, and mile after mile not a sound, not a person, not an animal, or a camp fire broke the vast solitude! But now he hears a gun directly ahead of him.

Another minute and another gun; yes, 'tis his own party camped out for the night, firing minute guns as a signal, and waiting with anxiety and fear for their absent leader. He soon rode up, and--in the words of the narrator, as he told us the story--"how the boys took me in their arms and hugged me! They fairly screamed as I told them how I missed the buffalo but didn't miss the Indian. They took me on their shoulders and carried me three times round the camp. We saw no more of the Arrapahoes during the journey to Santa Fe."

Such have been the adventures and perils of carrying the mails between the far outposts of civilization, on our wild frontier.

CHAPTER XII.

Cheating the Clergy--Duping a Witness--Money missing--A singular Postscript--The double Seal--Proofs of Fraud--The same Bank-Note--"Post-Boy" confronted--How the Game was played--Moving off.

Our collection of "outside" delinquencies would be incomplete, were we to omit the following case, which was investigated by the author not long ago, and in which not a little ingenuity, of the baser sort, was displayed. It will serve as a specimen of a numerous cla.s.s of cases, characterized by attempts to defraud some correspondent, and to fasten the blame of the fraud upon some one connected with the Post-Office.

We could give many instances of a similar kind, did our limits permit.

A person of good standing in community, who laid claim not only to a moral, but a religious character, was visiting in a large town on the Hudson river, about midway between New York and Albany. This person owed a clergyman, living in New Haven, Conn., the sum of one hundred dollars; and one day he called at the house of another clergyman of his acquaintance in the town first mentioned, and requested to be allowed the privilege of writing a letter there to his clerical creditor, in which the sum due that gentleman was to be enclosed.

Writing materials were furnished, and he prepared the letter in the study of his obliging friend, and in his presence.

After he had finished writing it, he said to the clergyman, "Now, as the mails are not always safe, I wish to be able to prove that I have actually sent the money. I shall therefore consider it a great favor if you will accompany me to the bank, where I wish to obtain a hundred-dollar note for some small trash that I have, and bear witness that I enclose the money and deposit the letter in the post-office."

The reverend gentleman readily acceded to his request, and went with him to the bank, where a bill of the required denomination was obtained and placed in the letter, which was then sealed with a wafer, the clergyman all the while looking on.

They then went to the post-office, (which was directly opposite the bank,) and after calling the attention of his companion to the letter and its address, the writer thereof dropped it into the letter box, and the two persons went their several ways.

The letter arrived at New Haven by due course of mail, and it so happened that the clergyman to whom it was addressed was at the post-office, waiting for the a.s.sorting of the mails. He saw a letter thrown into his box, and called for it as soon as the delivery window was opened.

Upon breaking the seal and reading the letter, he found himself requested to "Please find one hundred dollars," &c., with which request he would cheerfully have complied, but for one slight circ.u.mstance, namely, the absence of the bank-note!