Adventures of Chas. L. Youngblood during ten years on the plains

Preface

In presenting this little volume to the public I have no apology to offer nor any explanation to make to the inception of the work, except that it was written at the request ot^ many of my friends^ who, knowing of my life in the West, were anxious to have my adventures written and pubHshed according to the tashion of the day.

Concerning the work itself I have only this to say: It is not fanciful description of imaginary adventures, but a true recital of a few of my hunts on the plains and such other occurrences as might be considered worthy o\ mention. These are not altogether in the order of their occurrence but as I call them to mind, and in most instances dates are omitted on account of incompleteness in m}^ data.

And now I leave it with you, necessarily incomplete and imperfect as it is, and even if it does not come up to your expectations from a romantic point of view, I can assure you that I have kept within the bounds of truth, which I hope will make up for all it may lack as to romance. C. L. Y.

Dedication

To my aged father whose paternal care and affection has been so constantly manifested toward me during my whole life this little volume is affectionately dedicated by the author.

Contents

Chapter. Pi'^ge.,

I. Introduction.

II. Speculation — Poultry raising in

Chapter II. Speculation Poultry Raising A Man

KILLED BY A BEAR, ETC.

When I arrived at Kansas City, in 1865, it was such a little, unpromising looking place that I conceived a dislike for it immediately. I had money enough to have bought it almost entire, and, in the light of recent developments, have regretted a thousand times that I did not do so. The squalid village of a few huts, has, in the sixteen intervening years, grown to be a thriving, busy city of several thousand inhabitants. Its situation upon one of the main lines of travel and emigration, makes it certain to become one of the principal western cities, but the prejudice I first conceived against the place was so strong that I tailed to discover any future for it, and prevented my making any speculation on the place.

I remained here but a short time, and then pushed forward up into Kansas, but did not like the country. It was so totally different to what I had been accustomed, that I could not make up my mind to locate there. I had been used to ten-acre fields, and the broad unfenced prairie did not suit me. I was raised in a country where there was plenty of timber, and did not see how I could get along without it. So despairing of suiting myself in such a country, I turned back to Missouri. Here I finally bought a large farm near the center of the State, where I remained until 1872.

While living here I suffered considerably from what is commonly called "bad luck," but perhaps a better name for most instances of this class would be mismanagement. But be this as it may, I managed to sink several thousand dollars in real estate. A railroad route had been surveyed through the section, and a tow^n laid out. As work was already begun on the proposed railroad, I thought it would be safe to invest on the strength of it. I accordingly purchased a good part of the town at a big price. The railroad fell through, and my town lots depreciated until I was compelled to almost give them away. I missed it in not buying Kansas City, and also missed it in buying an imaginary city.

Disheartened at my loss I determined to "go west"' again, and accordingly started out with about two hundred bushels of dried fruit and a lot of butter, I did not try Kansas this time, but went to Denver, Colorado. From Denver I went to Golden City, thence to Black Hawk City, Central City and Nevada City.

Here I sold my produce and began to cast my eyes about to see what I should do. Every thing and everybody seemed to be in a hurry; even the mountains seemed to move, out of pure sympathy with every thing about them.

Every man I could see seemed on a rush for money, and that he was getting it. Men do not all dig gold and silver here to make money. I noticed many engaged in occupations that no man in Warrick county would at all think of engaging in. Among the other queer avocations that are followed out here, I noticed a poultry ranche. It seeined to me, at first sight, that this was about as nearly nothing as any business I ever heard of, but I found upon in-

CHARLES L. YOUNGBLOOI). l^

quirv that it was not so small after all. I'he ranche was about five miles from the mines, where thousands of miners were at work, and in the neighborhood were several boardini;- houses, some of which had as many as hfteen hundred boarders, and the poultry man found ready sale at high prices for the products of his ranche. Besides this there were a great deal of scraps, crumbs and the like about these boarding houses that he got merely for taking it out of the way, which made good food for the poultry. This made the expense of the ranche small, arid he received from hity cents to one dollar a piece for chickens, and about the same per dozen for eggs, of which he was selling at that time about ninety dozen a day. He had about two thousand hens besides other poultry, and as the labor was light, the expense small and the prices enormous, he was making money rapidly in the poultry business.

In this part of the country I received about my first impressions of the animals of the West. I happened one day to be passing a l6 THE ADVENTURES OF

house, where a man, who had just had a fight with a cinnamon bear, had been placed. Of course on hearing this I dropped in and heard the fatally wounded man, as far as he was able, relate the circumstances. He had shot and badly w^ounded the bear, and was following its trail, hoping to be able to kill it, through a rough stony place, and as he was going along as noiselessly as he could for the rocks, he suddenly came upon it and did not have time to shoot before it sprang upon him and dashed him to the ground. In his struggles to release himself from the animal, both his legs were broken, and he saw that his only chance was in strategy, as he was match for the bear in strength, and he lay perfectly still as if dead, when the bear after eyeing him closely for a moment or two started slowly away. As soon as the bear was a few feet off he raised on his hands and knees — his le2:s both beinor broken below the knee — and started to crawl away. This attracted the bear's attention and it turned and pounced upon him with greater fury than before, this time breaking one of his wrists. He resorted to the same stratagem as before, but waited until the brute was out ol" sight, when he again started to crawl toward home, dragging himself through the snow which was about four inches deep. A few moments after the struggle, his brother happened to be passing that way and seeing the the marks of the light, not knowing that it was his brother w^ho had been torn nearly to pieces, went on the trail of the bear, which, when overtaken, was for another tight, but a repeating rifle proved too much for it, and he soon had it safely dead. He then started back to see who the man was who had been in the clutches ot the bear, and his feelings may be better imagined than described, w^hen, after lollowirg It about half a mile, he found it was his brother. The wounded man had crawled that distance with one wrist and both legs broken. The poor fellow was in great agonv and lived but a few hours. His father said he would have the bear skinned and sleep on the hide as longas he lived.

A few days after this I fell in with some old hunters at Golden City, who were just on the eve of starting out on a big buffalo hunt, and I thought that here was a chance to have some sport, and perhaps make some money. Some of my readers are perhaps not aware that sport is not by any means the w^hole object in buffalo hunting, but many men have almost made fortunes in the business. The flesh is excellent and when properly cured is readily sold at good figures, and the hides are no drag on the hunter's hands.

While we were cleaning up our guns preparatory to starting out on the hunt, I came very near getting into a little difficulty. I thoughtlessly put a charge in my gun and lired it out of the door at random. Almost immediately a policeman came running across the street, and taking hold of my arm said,

''Come along, sir."

I saw that I was in an aAvkward predicament, and concluded, like a great many men who are caught in uglier scrapes, to try the insanity dodge, which I played so successfully that he said he would let me ofl' this time, but warned me against repeating the otiense. It is useless to add that I was very careful after this not to tire any more random shots in town.

After making all necessary preparations we started out to get some buffaloes, and in the next chapter my readers will find a full account of my lirst buffalo hunt.

Chapter III. Out For A Hunt A Missing Overcoat

MY FIRST BUFFALO INDIANS ON, THE

TRAMP "'OLD POISON SLINGER," ETC.

Three other men and myself left Golden City to go about eighty miles in search of buffalo. The tirst game we struck was a herd of antelope, into which we lired, killing one. We then went to a house about a mile off to stay over night. We proposed to the man of the house to furnish the meat and he furnish the rest. He replied by saying that he would do so. Of course we thought it was all right, and our antelope went free, but the next morning he charged us five dollars for his hospitality. This seemed very mean, but the boys contrived a way to get even with him. He had been telling of a new overcoat, for which he paid fourteen dollars the day before, and when we left the coat went too. He had his live dollars, and we had his fourteen dollar overcoat. As it was a partnership coat we took turn about in wearing it.

We travelled on until we came to what ought to have been ''good hunting," but as we saw no buffalo we were at quite a loss to know how to get them, as there was no timber in which we could conceal ourselves, it being an open prairie with not a tree for many miles. While preparations for camping were being made, I went about twenty miles from the railroad and struck a herd of buffalo. I was careful not to get too close to them for two reasons: a herd of those animals, to a novice, look simply frightful; and I was afraid they would take fright and run away. When I was within about five hundred yards of them I aimed at the herd and fired, and had the supreme satisfaction of seeing my first buffalo fall. I was too much elated to try to get any more just then, though I might easily have done so, but went back to camp to relate what I had done, and we were soon on our way after my buffalo. While on the way w^e saw a large one coming nearly toward us on the run. I left the others and got right in the animal's course and lay down to conceal myself, and as soon as he was near enough I hred and saw the wool fly ofl:'him, but he kept on coming. I put in another cartridge and flred again, when he dashed right at me, and I began to think that I had gotten into a rather bad scrape, but when within a few steps of me, to my infinite relief he fell dead. I afterward found out that I had not done anything wonderful, but I thought at the time that I knew all about killing buffalo. We resumed our journey, and had gone but a short distance when I noticed a large herd about a mile ofl'. I started and went as close as I thought safe and killed one, and immediately the others rallied round it bellowing and tossing their heads. I thought this a good chance, so I kept blazing away until I got eight. I was certain then that I was the champion buffalo killer of the plains. We soon dressed them and started back to camp. We had gone but a short distance w^hen we saw a large band of Indians coming toward us, which caused us not a little anxiety until we discovered that they were friends. There were about fifteen hundred of them and they had a permit from the Government to hunt for thirty days. This was the first large band of Indians I had seen, and it was quite a sight to me. The warriors were in front, followed by the squaws and luggage. The papooses, or babies, were lashed on* horses, w^hich were turned loose and driven in a kind of herd. Besides the papooses, the luggage was lashed on the pack horses and w^ere driven by the squaws, while the men rode on before at their ease. The weather was very cold and it w^as snowing at the time, and pelting the little papooses in the face and on the hands, but they seemed to be tough enough and were taking it easy, laughing and crowing and their little black eyes shining like black beads.

Buffalo meat was low and it did not pay much to save it, and we went hunting just for the hides, and in a few days had killed over a hundred, which we skinned and left the carcasses to rot on the prairie.

As we were going into camp one day I saw three buffalo lying down, and, having only live cartridges, slipped up as close as I could get and killed two and wounded the other. One cartridge failed to fire, and I w^ent back to the w^agon to take the cap off, but wiiile I was picking it out it exploded, nearly tearing my hand off. This laid me up for nearly two weeks.

One day while my hand was sore and 1 could not use my gun, I was strolling along a branch, I heard an unusual noise, and looking up saw the ''tips" of some Indians, I could not tell how many, just as they passed over a ridge. As soon as I saw them I lav flat down, and they passed on without seeing me, and it was well for me that they did not, for they were hostile and, as I did not have my gun, would have made short work of me. I met them often after that, but was generally better prepared for them, as I always had my "old poison slinger" with me.

"Old poison slinger" is the name that the men gave my gun. It was a Sharp's rifle, 50 calibre, made to load and shoot eight times a minute. It would throw a ball to kill a distance of live miles. I have killed buffalo with it at a mile, and have shot with it so far that I had plenty of time to take my head from it and see the ball strike.

Soon after I hurt my hand two of the men went off, and there were only myself and another man left, but he was a good shot and we got along very well. We were out shooting one day back about 20 miles on Cold Hell Creek, and, besides killing several buffalo, we wounded one cow that lay down and my partner went out to kill her. Before he got very close to her, she sprang to her feet and made a dash at him. The reader will bear in mind that a buffalo, when badly wounded, gets desperate, and will rush headlong at its enemy with a force that makes it very much safer to be out of the way. When he saw what she meant he dropped on one knee, and taking rest on the other, waited until she was within twelve feet of him, when he fired, hitting, her in the jaw, stunning her, and before she had time to recover shot her through the heart.

A few days after this we went about twenty miles east of Cold Hell Creek, on the bed of the Republican river, where we remained and hunted about two weeks. We were here two or three days before we saw any buffalo, but on getting up one morning and going out a mile or two, we saw the largest herd that I ever saw anywhere. I could not tell how far east and west they extended. They came in a run that shook the ground like an earthquake, and frightened our horses and made them almost unmanageable. They were all that day and night in passing. We wondered what could be the cause for such a large herd passing on a run, but found out that the Cheyenne Indians and the Utes had been fighting, and the Utes, being driven back, fired the prairie to prevent pursuit. This fire in the big tall grass of the prairie drove the buffalo, antelope and wolves out. We kept firing on them and killed one hundred and three while they were passing:. We could have killed as many more, but stopped occasionally to skin what we had killed. We were compelled to remain up all night on account of our horses, and besides we could not have slept for the noise. The heavy, continual thunder of their tramp, and their incessant bellowing, made so much noise that sleep was out of the question, even though circumstances were otherwise favorable. I have seen a great many herds of buffalo but never before, or since, have seen one equal to this.

Chapter IV

BAD INDIANS BUFFALO CHIPS A FRIGHT- ENED HUNTER NOT QUITE DEAD YET, ETC,

It was not long before the Indians became so bad that hunters were compelled to go in squads of from eight to ten and upwards, and then it was with more or less risk. Hunters were killed almost every day, but the Indians are general!}^ to cowardly to make an attack with anything like equal numbers. Their favorite plan is for a large band to surround about three or four whites, and shoot them down or put them to death by torture. I will not stop here to describe any of their methods of torture, but will do so in another chapter.

I remember one time that I was one of a squad of ten buffalo hunters when a band of Ogallahs came over from their reservation on a thirty days' permit from Uncle Sam to hunt not far from us, and one day a squad of them came over to our -camp and got to horse-racing with some of our boys. Thev were runnintr ''one horse for the other,'' and the Indians lost their horses. They then put up their guns and lost them. They did not seem to be much chagrined over their loss, but shook hands with us all around and were entirely too friendly, so much so as to arouse our suspicions and render us very uneasy. As soon as they left we brought our horses up close, got our supper as soon as we could, put out our camptire, put our guns in fighting trim, and prepared for the attack that w^e felt sure would come.

About two hours after dark we discovered them coming. Their object evidently w^as to get their horses back and steal some of ours, and, if they caught us off our guard, kill us. We waited until they were as close as we thought they ought to come, and then opened fire on them with our repeating rifles. This was wholly unexpected to them, as they had depended on taking us by surprise, and all that could run did so. Some of our men sprang on their horses and pursued them a short distance, and helped them to hurry along to their camp. We did not sleep much that night, and did not leave camp at all the next day, knowing that we wonld have some kind of settlement to make with them, and about lo o'clock in the morning we noticed a large squad of them coming toward us. The reader must not forget that the Indian is Uncle Sam's pet, and we did not dare do anything unless we were attacked, but had gotten everything in readiness by the time they came up. The chief^

who spoke fair English, said: ''You d — d

killed four of my men out there,"

pointing to where four dead Ogallahs lay.

One of our men, Hank Miller, said "Pawnees," meaning that it was the Pawnees that had killed them, but the old chief roared out ''Pawnees, no Pawnees," and drawing his finger around his head to indicate that had it been the Pawnees that killed his men, they would have scalped them, which, of course, we did not do, expressed his utter disbelief by saying '^Poo, poo, poo, no Pawnee."

They sat on their horses and bandied words with US for some time, watching very closely for apportunity to make a dash on us, but we were in readiness for them. We had our guns in our hands, with our thumbs on the hammer and our fingers on the trigger. We could have shot in a second, and dropped ten Indians, and they knew it. Seeing that it would not be at all easy to punish us, they soon rode away muttering imprecations on us as they went. They did not disturb us any more, and we resumed our hunting as usual for thirty days, averaging a hundred buffalo a day. At the close ol this hunt I went back to Missouri, and remained about six months, when I again started west. I made arrangements with A. Buckmaster and L. J. Shilder at Warrensburg, Mo., to sell meat for me, and took two men, Louis Allred and Silas Mc- Ferrin, with me. After about fourteen days travel we came to "good hunting." Buffaloes were plentiful and I made an average of eight a day. The hides and flesh of eight good buffalo are worth about $50, so you see it was paying me pretty well.

We were camped on what is called Sappy river, and were twenty miles from timber. While here the snow fell about twelve inches deep, and we were compelled to remain in our tent three days without fuel, the snow storm coming so suddenly as to prevent our laying in a supply. We onh' had a small amount gathered, and it consisted mostly of buffalo chips, which is simply the sun-dried excrement of the buffalo. It will probably seem to many of my readers in the East, that it would make very poor fuel, but in this section of the countrv it is preferred over wood or coal for many purposes. I have seen hotter fires made from it than I ever saw from wood. Some of my readers mio-ht have a little delicacv about using such fuel, but here it is nothing to see ladies gathering it in their aprons. In nearly every house you can hnd a sack full of it standing in the corner, and when the fire gets low, the lady of the house takes a few chips from the sack and puts them in the stove, and nothing- more is thousfht of it than when vou put a stick of wood on the fire, or a lump of coal on the grate. We managed to get along without getting frozen, and after the snow went off we resumed our hunting.

The two men who were with me were no hunters, and 1 had them employed to help me take care of the buffaloes after they were killed. One day when we were out I had killed several very close together, and while w^e were skinning them, we saw, about 'a mile away, a big buffalo coming nearly toward us, and Louis Allred said to me, '^CharHe, let me shoot that one." "AH right," I rephed, "there is the gun." "I just want to kill one," said he, "to be able to say that I killed a buffalo." I handed him the gun and the cartridge belt, and he stalked off like an old soldier. The buffalo was lost and was running as hard as it could, looking for company, right toward him. By the time he was two hundred yards from us, the buffalo was pretty close to him and still coming, and looking pretty scary. He brought down the gun as if he were going to shoot, but as the buffalo kept coming he concluded to get out of the way, and started (5)

back toward us for dear life. As soon as the buffalo saw him it turned and ran too, but he supposed it was right after him and was expecting at every step to be caught, and made his tracks as fast and as far apart as he could, w^hile the buffalo was going as fast as it could in an opposite direction. He looked a little sheepish when he brought up and saw the buffalo away off and running as fast as he could in another direction, but he thought he had run a frightful risk and was not at all anxious after that to have it said that he "killed a buffalo."

Another time he and I were out together and were skinning several buffalo that we had killed. We came to one that was not quite dead, so I said that I would whet my knife while it was dying. I laid down my gun, and had hardly commenced sharpening my knife, when Allred screamed "Look out ! Look out ! " I raised my head and saw that it was nearly on us. I had not time to pick up my gun and had to run without it. The animal stopped at the gun and began pawing it, and

CHARLES L. YOUNGBLOOD.

horning my coat, which, in my haste, I had left lying by the gun. As I had but the one gun, we could only stand and wait, but in a few moments it lay down right by the gun, and in about two hours died.

Chapter V. We Move To Smoky River The Indians

GO THROUGH OUR CAMP.

We finally moved from Sappy river to what is called Smoky river. This is only a small stream, not being over a rod or so wide. x\lono: the banks are a few willows, and occasionally a cottonwood tree rises up into the air. As this was a good place to stay awhile we set to work killing buffalo, drying the fore quarters and selling the hind quarters. From this place I sent a large quantity to Buckmaster and Shidler, my agents, in Missouri.

While here I took Allred and started to go to a herd of buffalo that I had, with the aid of my field glass, discovered about three miles oft^, leaving McFerrin to load cartridges. A short time after we left, a band of Indians, who had doubtless been watching our camp, came in si£:ht. McFerrin dodo-ed out of the camp and ran into the bluffs on the river bank and hid himself in the bushes where he could watch them. They approached cautiously, and, after firing several shots into the tent, dashed up and took possession. After rifling my camp of whatever they wanted, they moved off about a quarter of a mile and hid under a hill side, . on the road leading from Wallace to the Republican river — a road much frequented by hunters — and watched the road until a man named Charles Brown, who was driving a team and wagon, came along. Brown, who was one of a squad of hunters, was driving to Smoky river to build a fire and prepare for camping; the others were a mile or two behind skinning some buffaloes that they had killed. When he was near enough the red skins fired on him, and he jumped off the wagon and started to run, but was soon struck by a ball and fell, when one of the Indians ran up to him and shot him through the head. They then began going through the wagon, but before they had secured their plunder the rest of Brown's party came up. and the red devils made themselves scarce. As soon as the hunters saw the Indians they took the horses out of the harness and pursued, but failed to overtake them.

While all this was transpiring I was about three miles away, killing and skinning buffalo, in bHssful ignorance of everything else. I had just finished skinning and started after one I had wounded. The ground was uneven and as I was nearly at the top of a knoll I caught a glimpse of something just going over a hill, and remarked to Allred ''There is a herd, now," and ran to the top of the hill to shoot. It was getting late in the evening and fast getting dark, and when I reached the top of the hill I could see several objects coming in sight about two hundred yards to my right, which I soon discovered to be mounted men, but could not tell whether they were red skins or white men. As soon as they saw me they dismounted and began to make signs to me, but which I did not care about answering. I did not know just what to do, and came near firing on them, but concluded to await developments. At last one of them mounted his horse and came toward us, when