Old Hicks the guide, or, Adventures in the Camanche country in search of a gold mine

Front matter

Smithsonian Libraries

Adopted by

In honor of Jane and Tom Sauer

Preface

My publishers want a Preface. The public is so fre¬ quently annoyed by the ill-timed and obtrusive imperti¬ nence of Prefaces, Prefatory Remarks, &c., that there seems to be a general inclination to snub authors who 44 in¬ dulge” in them. For my part, lest this same public should say to me, as the old story goes, “ Consider yourself in¬ sulted, sir!” I should greatly prefer anticipating this with, 44 Consider yourself cowhided !” and be done with it, there¬ by saving myself the pain of inflicting, and it the pain of enduring, a 44 Preface.”

44 A thought unspoken is as a deed unacted—a thing said is done .”

But then it is considered necessary that I should an¬ nounce who I am.

44 A Texan Ranger !” to be sure, as any body will be apt to find out who reads my book.

Is this a romance, or are these incidents real ?

A better evidence than my own assertion is that con¬ tained in the narrative itself: it bears its character on its face!

Were you ever in the Camanche country, or on such an expedition 1

Yes, both; see the numerous sketches I published three years since in the American Whig and Democratic Re¬ views, in which I first introduced to their readers those heroic Ranger leaders, Colonel Hays, Major Chavalier, and

X

PEEFACE.

the lamented Walker, of the Rifles, all of whom were my comrades.

Are this French count and the French woman you in¬ troduce real characters ?

Ask any prominent Texan, and he will tell you something about these personages ; but as I happen to know more than any of them, I tell you a great deal .

What about this Gold Mountain ?

Much that is real and interesting. I suppose nobody has ever crossed from San Antonio de Bexar to the Rio Grande but has heard something of it too ; and as I happen to know more than most of them, I have undertaken to tell you that as well.

What about these extraordinary stories you have to tell concerning the Camanches and other southern tribes ?

“ A great cry and little wool.”

There is very little, comparatively, known about them by any one of the white race who has ever returned to civ¬ ilization. What information I have managed to collect, through much hardship and many sufferings, I here lay be¬ fore you. If my facts seem improbable, I would advise you to undertake such an expedition yourself for your own satisfaction.

These are the common questions asked me, and here you have my common answers.

I would now conclude with a nate piece of advice, as Paddy would be apt to give it: Read the book through first, then turn back and read this “ Preface.”

The Author.

Contents

CHAPTEB PAGE

I. THE TRINITY COLONY.13

II. THE RESCUE.21

Chapter I. The Trinity Colony

In the latter part of the -winter of 1843 I was engaged in busi¬ ness in Cincinnati. My enterprise was an unsuccessful one ; and, after a protracted and exhausting struggle with untoward circum¬ stances, I was finally compelled to surrender every thing and retire.

My creditors were kind enough, after handing to me the small surplus of receipts over my liabilities, to offer me a handsome pres¬ ent. For this they received my thanks, though I chose to de¬ cline accepting it; but my health and spirits being greatly fagged, I cast about me for some active employment, which would afford me the requisite mental and physical excitement of which I stood in need.

An enterprising company, whose principal stockholders lived in Louisville, were making great exertions to fulfill the terms of a conditional Grant made to them several years before by the Texan government. The contract was very much on the plan of the old Mexican Empresario Grant, requiring the introduction of three hundred families, and their permanent settlement on the land with¬ in five years, as the condition to vest the ownership in the company. The location of the territory in question was at the sources of the Trinity Liver, near, and, indeed, forming a portion of the Cross Timber.

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OLD HICKS THE GUIDE.

The company, under great discouragements, liad succeeded in establishing nearly two hundred families, and were now making the final effort for the collection and transportation of the re¬ mainder. A proposition was made to me to go out as Emigration Agent to the company, with general authority for the supervision of its affairs and interests, until one of the leading members should arrive in person.

This proposition came very opportunely ; for I had a great hor¬ ror of loaferdom, and am constitutionally fond of action. It offer¬ ed, in hardy employment, the relief I so much needed after my late disappointment. I accepted the trust, and was soon engrossed in the business and designs of the company, and in the bustle of preparing eighty families for their journey to a new home.

We chartered a small steam-boat to take us all up the Red River; and into this, in the middle of May, we tumbled, men, women, wagons, pots, pans, beds, guns, plows, horses, axes, pigs, children, and chickens, in one heterogeneous mass of animate and ina nim ate matter, and then our little Shamrock went puffing and snorting down the Ohio like a broken-winded hack.

After a trip of little incident, but, between our live stock and escape pipe, plenty of noise, we disembarked at Natchitoches, put our wagons together, bought oxen and horses, and set off across the country to the settlement.

On our arrival at the spot of our destination we found every thing, as I expected, in confusion. The Indians had discovered the location of the settlers, and become extremely troublesome. Since the commencement of the settlement they had been entirely unmolested, and thought themselves secure of impunity from the depredations of their uncourteous neighbors ; but the pleasant illu¬ sion had entirely vanished, and, along with it, their thriving herds of cattle and horses.

I found the settlement, instead of the smiling paradise of peace and plenty which the emigrants expected to see, a military colony

SUFFERINGS AND PERIL.—NEW ORGANIZATION.

suffering - for the necessaries of life. They were so heset hy the Camanche, Chickasaw, Choctaw, and other tribes of Indian ma¬ rauders, that it was perilous for the hunters to turn out for game except in parties of some strength. Even then, so soon as they were out of sight, their thieving enemies would pounce down on the de¬ fenseless settlement from the other side, and either scalp their wom¬ en and children, or drive off the few stragglers left of their herds.

The poor fellows had become so thoroughly baited and worn out by this incessant and unexpected warfare—for, supposing them¬ selves out of the Indian range, they had made no provision for it— that they had set themselves down in the surly endurance of de¬ spair, and preferred rather to starve a little than leave their fam¬ ilies unprotected.

My first duty was to organize the colony for efficient and imme¬ diate defense. This, with the re-enforcement accompanying me, was easily effected. Besides having, the third day after our ar¬ rival, pretty well drubbed a party of Camanches we caught lurk¬ ing in the neighborhood, we had breathing-time allowed us before the next alarm to get things into something like order.

I first set to work with all our available force to planting stock¬ ades around the whole of the houses, a work which had, strangely enough, been neglected. Connected with these yards, and inclosed in the same way, we formed pens for the cattle and horses to be driven into in case of the appearance of our vagabond visitors. We then proceeded to provide separate houses for ourselves, the new¬ comers, on the same improved plan; and, as we all worked in a body, finishing one establishment out and out before we moved on to the next, our little family fortresses were run up rapidly.

Before eight weeks had gone by we were nearly all provided for; as all that was necessary for protection against the Indians was simply to plant a high, stout fence of posts around the cabin, over which these gentry could neither leap their horses nor shoot conveniently while on horseback. As to leaving their saddles to

OLD HICKS THE GUIDE.

scale a fence, that would "be altogether beneath their warrior dig¬ nity ; they would never dream of such condescension; and women and children are just as safe behind these stockades as they would be in Edinburgh Castle. It is a determined feature of Camanche tactics never to dismount in the presence of an enemy except on compulsion of a rifle ball, or some argument as persuasive.

Each settler was allowed three hundred acres of land any where in the bounds of the Grant, excepting, of course, those covered by prior claims ; but as neighborship at this stage of matters was of rather more importance than the indulgence of a very coy taste, where all the land was good and all the scenery lovely, the differ¬ ent claims, particularly those of the late arrivals, were wedged into each other as close as convenient; though some of the older settle¬ ments were ten, fifteen, and twenty miles distant.

On the whole, our colony in a very little while presented a wellto-do and thriving appearance. Certainly, Nature had been boun¬ teously lavish enough in her choicest gifts to gratify the most ex¬ acting humors. Our little farms clustered along the banks of the Trinity, or, rather, along the edge of the forest, which fringed them with its deep, but pleasant shadows; pleasant, from the contrast of the clear, sunny waters of the stream glancing through them on one side—with the wide, waving sea of green and glowing hues stretched in boundless, silent majesty on the other, to where the blue arch bowed to meet it.

, The sun every night went down to rest on a flowery couch ; and the extended line of that phenomenon, the Cross Timber, laid its dark, regular length far out into the faded distance. # We

* This remarkable line of timber is evidently a work of art, like the Chinese Wall; and, like that structure, was, no doubt, intended to mark the limits between two nations. In addition to being plumb through its whole course with the true meridian, its width is determined wife geometrical precision. It stretches for several hundred miles over hill, dale, and prairie with the same uniformity, forming the solitary exception, in all the vast plains of our vast hemisphere, of a line of timber deviating to any great degree from the general course of streams.

THE KA'XGEES.—CARELESSNESS AGAIN. 17

needed no fencing for our fields; and the dark, rich loam of the prairie, turned up to the sun, was soon, with very little labor, smil¬ ing with the pale green of our luxuriant crops; while, at a little distance, up to their knees in the fragrant grass, our horses and herds idled away a careless life amid secure abundance.

Of the most active young men of the colony I had organized a troop of rangers for general defense ; but as we were pretty gener¬ ally on horseback, and on the alert, our Indian visitors had learned to be a little shy. What with hunting buffalo, however, chasing deer, and lassoing mustangs, our time glided along pleasantly. There was just enough of danger to give the required zest to what would have otherwise been a somewhat monotonous life. One of our adventures had some influence on my after life, as will be seen.

We had passed two months of uninterrupted quiet in the usual round of ranging, hunting, and so on. Our settlers had entirely recovered their spirits. Even the women and children ventured some distance into the prairie to gather strawberries and flowers, so entire was the security felt; our cattle were permitted to range for miles, and were less frequently herded; and our horses had the freedom of the ten miles round, and as much further as they chose to wander.

My ranger boys had become less careful in their outpost duties, and, instead of being on the look-out for Indian trails, were chasing, helter-skelter, each herd of deer or mustangs that came in sight. Indeed,, we were all falling back into the old state of careless se¬ curity.

While such was the condition of affairs, one bright morning, when most of the men were off on a mustang drive, a number of boys—children of my nearest neighbors—had collected to bathe in a pretty little basin, formed by an eddy of the river opposite my house. I heard their merry yells, and taking down my gun—a precaution grown as habitual, before going out, as putting on my cap—I walked listlessly down to the river bank to look at them.

B 2

OLD HICKS THE GUIDE.

There were five houses within half a mile, above and below me. The women, with their sun-bonnets on, were tripping across from one house to the other, to pay neighborly gossiping visits; the house-dogs jogged lazily along behind them ; the goats were frisk¬ ing and butting at each other outside the picketing ; a man at the plow was whistling a sleepy roundelay; groups of cattle in sight were reclining on the grass, slowly grinding away at the everlast¬ ing cud ; and the thin wreaths of opaque smoke from the chimneys were clearly defined against the intensely brilliant transparency of a cloudless blue sky. The whole scene was the very ideal of quiet, delicious repose.

I remember being particularly struck with the happy and har¬ monious calm that had fallen upon our sometime stormy home, and of thinking how perfectly the poet’s dream might now be re¬ alized ; how pleasant here,

“Until life’s sunny day be quite gone down,

To sit and smile witli joy;”

when suddenly the sound of a gun caused me to turn my head.

The first object that met my view was the whistling plowman scampering, as if for dear life, toward his home, yelling, “ Indians ! Indians !” Further on, around the most distant house in sight, I could distinguish forty or fifty dark riders, who were galloping to and fro with great rapidity,- gathering together our horses and mules. I sent on the warning cry, at the top of my lungs, to the women; and then such consternation, shrieks, and splashing as there was among the little scamps in the water, you can conceive, if you have ever seen a hawk dip down among a covey of wild ducks.

I called to the boys to run to my house, which was about four hundred paces off, for I saw some of the Indians were coming to¬ ward us at full speed; and the little fellows, shaking the water from their dripping hair, some stopping to pick up a shirt, and others bare as they came into the world, scrambled up the bank and plied their tiny feet, screaming all the way, to the picketing.

THE LITTLE BOYS.—CAMMANC-HE ATTACK.

One or two of them were out some distance in the stream, and were delayed by their fright in getting up the bank ; so that by the time they reached me the Indians were too close to permit them to escape to the house unaided, and but for my gun they would have lost their scalps.

The foremost Indian galloped up very close, but, on my raising my gun, wheeled to avoid my shot; and with my face turned to¬ ward the savage to keep him at bay—the little fellows, almost frantic with fright, clinging to my legs—I commenced my back¬ ward retreat toward the house.

The Camanches will seldom rush upon an American—who has a gun in his hand, and shows by his deliberation that he is perfectly cool—until he has fired; after that, they will swoop upon him before he can load again. It is, therefore, very easy to keep a num¬ ber of them at a very respectful distance by raising your gun, as if to shoot, whenever they come too close.

Four of the savage rascals had by this time come up, and were circling around me, endeavoring, by their yells, clamors, and threat¬ ening gestures, to draw my fire. I was aware that if I fired I might be sure of instant death, and so backed slowly and steadily on toward the picketing. The little boys clung to me so desper¬ ately with their naked limbs as seriously to impede my progress.

The savages, with tufts of horse-hair streaming from their limbs, and circlets and plumes of gaudy feathers flaunting from their heads, and the manes and tails of their horses, whooped, yelled, and clattered their long lances against their white shields of bull’s hide, as they scudded to and fro around me, with the swiftness of sea birds ; becoming more and more eager, and closing their circle nearer, as I approached the picket.

My gun, fortunately, was a double barrel. I knew they would make a final and desperate rush to prevent my escape. We were now within eighty rods of the picket stiles ; the main body of the Indians had nearly reached us, and there was no time to lose.

OLD HICKS THE GUIDE.

Two Indians, who seemed to take their position with the design of maintaining it, were between us and the stiles. I walked stead¬ ily toward them, and leveled my gun. They swung themselves down behind the bodies of their horses, leaving nothing exposed but the leg by which they clung to the saddle. I told the boys to run toward them, intending to fire as they raised themselves in the saddle to strike; but the cunning rascals were watching me from under their horses’ necks, and, seeing that they must catch it if they raised themselves to shoot, wisely started their horses on, shooting several arrows without changing their position, and wound¬ ing the boys considerably.

I saw my young charges reach the steps. Now was my time to run for it, for fifty Camanches were within as many paces of me, thundering on at full speed. I started for precious life. There was a general howl and rush toward me from every side; and I felt the prick of several arrows. It was only twenty paces now to the stiles. I wheeled and fired at the nearest; they all recoiled for an instant; a few desperate bounds, and my foot was on the lower stile, when a lance whizzed past my ear and quivered in the post, while a deafening, furious roar burst from every throat.

I faced about again. The foremost Indian was within ten feet, standing in his horse’s stirrups, in the very act of plunging his lance at me. Quick as thought I fired in his face, and sprang, or, rather, tumbled over the stile into my yard.

When I picked myself up, I heard the hoarse gnashing of their disappointed rage, and the clatter of retreating hoofs.

THE RESCUE.

Chapter II. The Rescue

This was a pretty close graze; nothing saved me hut the last charge of my faithful double barrel, and, as it was, several of their confounded little arrows were sticking about me for mementoes.

The whole scene, long as it takes to give you an idea of it, could not have occupied over two minutes; but in that paltry fraction of time how fiercely vivid had been the transition from the very poetry of rural quiet to the stormy and terrible reality of savage war ! But this was not the last of it, by a good deal.

I climbed to the top of the stiles again, after loading my gun, just in time to see the scalp torn from the head of one of our men who was returning from a hunt on foot, and was so hard pressed as to be compelled to fire his rifle. He had been instantly borne to the earth by a dozen lances, in full view of his own house.

Their failure and loss in my case had greatly infuriated them, and although poor Thompson had been steady and cool, like a vet¬ eran frontiersman as he was, yet they had rushed upon him in a body, determined to have a scalp if it cost a warrior.

It did, too, and one of their chiefs at that; for the eye and nerve of the gallant fellow did not fail him in that fearful moment, when they closed so madly, dashing around him, that their lances met, grating, in his body. A chief, whose lance first touched him, tum¬ bled stiffly forward amid the trampling hoofs, and the hunter was avenged.

One of the women made a very narrow escape, and was only

OLD HICKS THE GUIDE.

saved by the courage of her dog, who sprung at the nose of the Camanche’s horse, and made the animal shy just as the rider was about to transfix her, as she was climbing the picket stiles. She got over safe, and the baffled rascal pursued the gallant dog into the river, where it also escaped, much to my gratification.

During these scenes a portion of their number had been busily engaged in collecting all our mules and horses that were loose on the prairie, and now they started after the frightened animals, who were tearing off like mad in the direction they wished them to go.

In a few moments more they were out of sight, and all was still for a little while as before ; but, fortunately, we had not been quite so silly as to have turned out our favorite riding horses, and in a short time there was a gathering, in hot haste, of all the men who were at home.

They came galloping up to my house from every direction, rifles in hand, with hot brows, flaming eyes, and curses deep-breathed between their teeth, eager to be led in the pursuit for vengeance.

Still more fortunately, just as we were starting on the trail, the very party which had been absent on the mustang drive came, breathless and foaming, up. It seems they had met with the Camanche trail, and, suspecting what had occurred, had run their horses in at full speed. With a few hasty words, explaining the ex¬ tent of the mischief, and a wild shout of vengeance for poor Thomp¬ son, we were off on the chase, numbering thirty determined men.

Of course, there was no difficulty in tracing the trail, which was broad as a wagon-road through the grass ; and we followed at the best pace of our horses; for our success in coming up with them all depended upon the speed of our animals.

As we swept by the farm of old Hicks, one of the earlier settlers, who had posted himself on the very outskirts of the grant, the gray¬ haired veteran was seen urging his horse across his field to meet us. As he approached, we could see, from the eagerness of his gestures, that something was wrong. We halted for an instant,

JOHN AND MARY CARRIED OFF.

and the glare of his eyes, and ashy pallor of his rigid face, as he joined us, were even more eloquent of his terrible news than the few words he with difficulty gasped out from between his clinched teeth,

“ My children!” .. T

“ Great God !. which ?”

“ John and Mary ! they’ve carried them off!”

Nothing more was spoken, hut, bending forward with a perfect howl of fury, the rangers lashed their horses like madmen. Such an incident was sufficiently calculated to rouse a delirium of wrath in their fiery natures.

In addition to the other outrages, these two children had been torn from their old parent, to be dragged off to a horrible captivity in the distant hills, unless we could catch the brutal spoilers before they had gained a covert.

No marvel that horses were goaded even when faithfully at their utmost speed ; that swollen veins were knotted along flushed temples, and curses and yells burst at intervals from tightly-drawn lips, as the image of those fair young children, writhing in the black, naked arms of a filthy and ferocious warrior, would rise up before us. For every body loved little Molly Hicks, “ wi’ the lintwhite locks,” and Johnny was a second “ Benjamin, the child of his old age,” to the hardy pioneer.

As he rode in front, which position he somehow maintained, with all the headlong eagerness of the younger members of the party, with his features stiffened and set, his eyes fixed on the distance before him, and his long, white hair streaming from his uncovered head, I thought I had never looked upon a more striking picture of stern, mute agony. It was enough to have strung the nerves of a dastard to reckless daring—one look at that silent old man.

The trail was leading in the direction of the densest portion of the Cross Timber, where, too, among wooded and broken ridges, the head waters of the Trinity took their origin, breaking in nu-

OLD HICKS THE GUIDE.

merous springs from dark gorges ; and in this rugged and extensive tract we supposed they would endeavor to conceal themselves by throwing us off the trail.

Soon we were scudding beneath the shade of the tall forest. There was no undergrowth, but the shaft-like trunks rose dark and bare to a considerable height, leaving long open vistas between them. A chill awe came over us at this swift transition from the sunny expanse of the prairie to the solemn gloom of this great nat¬ ural temple.

Contrary to our expectations, the trail, instead of diverging north, toward the hills, kept on west, directly through the belt of the Cross Timber. These Indians have an unconquerable aversion to tke brush, and our hopes were greatly elated to find that, true to this instinct, they were keeping in the open woods, and probably making for the plains beyond the deep forest.

This course offered us much greater assurance that we should be able to keep the trail, and finally overhaul them. But it was nearly six miles across, and our reckless haste was beginning to tell upon our horses ; so that, with all the tumult and intensity of our excitement, we were obliged somewhat to check our gait.

For several miles we continued silently galloping down those dim, leaf-fretted aisles, the old man still retaining his position in front, never for an instant turning his eyes to the right or to the left, but staring fixedly ahead.

Suddenly he raised himself quickly in the stirrups, and with a sharp, shrill shout, “ There !” plunged the spurs into his horse. I looked ahead, and could just distinguish objects gleaming swiftly past the trees far before us.

With a shout that made those tangled arches shiver again, we all followed him. The wild whirl of maddening excitement was beyond any description. The men fairly shrieked with the exulta¬ tion of savage joy.

Our horses caught the spirit, and seemed energized with super-

THE PURSUIT.—THE FIGHT.

natural speed, as tliey fled hy the trees so swiftly that the trunks seemed run into each other, and to form a continuous wall. Now and then, through a wider opening before us, we would get a full, hut momentary view of the spotted horses of the foe streaking across it. Then such a hurst of shouting from our men !

In this way the chase had continued for several miles, without lessening materially the distance between us, and we were begin¬ ning to fear that our horses would fail us even, when the old man, pointing ahead, laughed out with the exultation of a fiend; and, as we swept past the object, I saw it was a horse of one of the war¬ riors that had dropped dead from exhaustion. How the men yelled at this sight.

Their horses were giving out, and we Avere sure of them ! An¬ other ! and yet another ! laid by the trail! I saw one of the war¬ riors, on foot, running off through the woods ! But on! on! never mind him ! The main body is before !

Suddenly Ave burst upon the dazzling light of the prairie. There they are. The whole body of them, within a quarter of a mile, strung winding along the deep grass like a great snake.

The clamor of pursuing wolves never sounded more terribly to a herd of exhausted deer than did our shout to these frightened thieves.

See how they look behind. They are uncertain what to do.

Ha ! they make to the timber again. The rapid tramp of the avenger’s tread turns too. They are panic-stricken. That old man, with the unearthly wildness of his mien, looks enough like a phantom of Avrath to strike an army with terror.

They rush to the edge of the timber, and throw themselves, in frantic hurry, from their horses’ backs—some head foremost.

We, too, have dismounted quicker than thought; the black tubes are ranged, and the belching platoon hurtles a leaden hail among them before they reach the trees.

Such staggering and tumbling; but not a sound from them.

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OLD HICKS THE GUIDE.

With clubbed guns we rush after the old man into the timber; and now the struggle is hand to hand, and foot to foot, with the lithe, desperate wretches.

They turn at bay a moment behind the covert of the trunks; but the fury of our charge overbears every thing. For a moment the rustle of struggling feet, the dull ring of crushing blows, the low groan, and heavy fall are the only sounds that break the awful silence ; and then the peal of our victorious shout proclaims that they are flying.