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JVtmals tti P^oming 

VoUO. - JULY, 1930 No.#^ 1 


Economic History and Settlement of Converse County, 

Wyoming—" ifohn " LeeRoy Waller 


Camp Jenney Chris Holley 

Life of Osc 

Life of Oscar Collister By Himself 

Published Quarterly 

by the 


Mrs. Cyrus Beard, Historian 


JVtmals tff P^gtfmhtg 

Vohfe x JULY, 1930 No. 


Economic History and Settlement of Converse County, 

Wyoming John LeeRoy Waller 

Camp Jenney Chris Holley 

Life of Oscar Collister By Himself 


Published Quarterly 

by the 


Mrs. Cyrus Beard, Historian 



Governor Frank C. Emerson 

Secretary of State A. M. Clark 

State Librarian Mrs. Clare E. Ausherman 

Secretary of Board Mrs. Cyrus Beard 


Judge E. H. Fourt Lander 

Dr. Grace R. Hebard Laramie 

Mrs. C. L. Vandevender Basin 

Mr. C. F. Maurer Douglas 

Mr. Phillip E. Winter Casper 

Mrs. R. A. Ferguson Wheatland 

Mrs. M. M. Parmelee Buffalo 

Miss Spaeth Gillette 

Mrs. P. J. Quealy Kemmerer 

Neither the State Historical Board, the State Historical Advisory Board nor the 
State Historian is responsible for any statements made or opinions expressed by 
contributors to the Annals of Wyoming. 

(Copyright 1930 by State of Wyoming) 


Session Laws 1921 


Section 6. It shall be the duty of the State His- 
torian : 

(a) To collect books, maps, charts, documents, man- 
uscripts, other papers and any obtainable material illus- 
trative of the history of the State. 

(b) To procure from pioneers narratives of any ex- 
ploits, perils and adventures. 

(c) To collect and compile data of the events which 
mark the progress of Wyoming from its earliest day to 
the present time, including the records of all of the 
Wyoming men and women, who served in the World War 
and the history of all war activities in the State. 

(d) To procure facts and statements relative to the 
history, progress and decay of the Indian tribes and other 
early inhabitants within the State. 

(e) To collect by solicitation or purchase fossils, 
specimens, of ores and minerals, objects of curiosity con- 
nected with the history of the State and all such books, 
maps, writings, charts and other material as will tend to 
facilitate historical, scientific and antiquarian research. 

(f) To file and carefully preserve in his office in 
the Capitol at Cheyenne, all of the historical data col- 
lected or obtained by him, so arranged and classified as 
to be not only available for the purpose of compiling and 
publishing a History of Wyoming, but also that it may be 
readily accessible for the purpose of disseminating such 
historical or biographical information as may be reason- 
ably requested by the public. He shall also bind, cata- 
logue and carefully preserve all unbound books, manu- 
scripts, pamphlets, and especially newspaper files contain- 
ing legal notices which may be donated to the State His- 
torical Board. 

(g) To prepare for publication a biennial report of 
the collections and other matters relating to the transac- 
tion of the Board as may be useful to the public. 

(h) To travel from place to place, as the require- 
ments of the work may dictate, and to take such steps, 
not inconsistent with the provisions of this Act, as may be 
required to obtain the data necessary to the carrying out 
of the purpose and objects herein set forth. 




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^JVmtais of Pg0mtng 

Votcfe 7 JULY, 1930 No. 


By John LeeRov Waller, B. S., University of Oklahoma. 

, Do 

(Continued from April Number) 
According to John Hunton, an oil spring was discov- 
ered in the vicinity of Casper by Lajeunesse in 1873. Hun- 
ton and Lajeunesse went to the spring and secured a sample 
of the oil, and while there were visited by a number of 
Arapahoe Indians and ordered out of the country. Hunton 
says that upon arriving at Fort Fetterman he heated the oil 
in hot water and got a pint of crude oil. (*2) In 1895 the 
builders of the Brenning Basin Irrigation Ditch 15 miles 
west of Douglas, cut through cretaceous formations into 
the sand rock of the Dakota group and found strong indi- 
cations of oil. The Wyoming Valley Oil Company was or- 
ganized in 1896 and put down a 500 foot well at great cost 
and with disastrous results, for neither oil nor gas was 
found. This company later put down a hole to a depth of 
825 feet, only to lose it. There was a great deal of water 
in the Brenning Basin, where all the early drilling was 
done, and this caused much trouble and delay in drilling. 
It was not until 1905 that oil in commercial quantities was 
found. Eight wells were producing in this basin in 1907, 
(*3) but all have been since abandoned or the production 
is too small to be reported. 

In 1912 the Wyoming Oil, Gas and Power Company 
drilled two shallow wells in Township 33N, Range 74 West, 
within a mile or so of an oil seep. V. H. Barnett of the 
United States Geologic Survey made a close study of the 
Big Muddy Dome, (*4) and in his report spoke of the two 
wells being drilled near the oil seep in 1912, and stated 
that the reason for no discovery of oil was because the wells 
were drilled into a monocline where the dip in the rock was 
uniform. Barnett deserves great credit for the develop- 

*2 Proceedings and Collections, Wyoming Historical Department, 1919-1920, 153. 
*3 Bill Barlow's Budget— 21st Anniversary Edition, 1907. 
*4 See map page 33. 


merit of the Big Muddy field, which lies west of Glenrock 
and on the south side of the North Platte between Glenrock 
and the Big Muddy Creek. Barnett went all over this re- 
gion, and made his report in 1914, in which occurs the fol- 
lowing statement : "The most favorable place for oil in this 
area, and in the judgment of the writer, the most favorable 
place within 50 miles of Douglas, is in a flat south of the 
Northwestern Railway between Glenrock and the Big 
Muddy Creek, near the central portion of the area. In this 
vicinity the structure is favorable, and oil if present at all, 
is probably about 2,500 feet below the surface." Never- 
theless Barnett added the significant statement that al- 
though the sand that was producing the oil in the Salt 
Creek field was found in outcroppings all around the Big 
Muddy Dome the only way to learn definitely whether the 
sand was wet or dry was to drill. (*5) The report created 
a great deal of excitement and aroused the interest of the 
capitalists. The latter was absolutely necessary, for to make 
proper use of the drill would reouire an expenditure of pos- 
sibly $50,000. 

H. Leslie Parker played a very important part in the 
early history of the field. He became a frequent visitor in 
the home of ex-Governor Brooks, whose home ranch is 
southwest of the Big Muddy field. On one of these visits 
Brooks spoke of the oil springs near his ranch that fur- 
nished oil for lubrication of the ranch machinery. Brooks 
and Parker examined one of these springs after which Par- 
ker tried to secure capital for a test well to be drilled some- 
where in the Big Muddy district. After publication of Bar- 
nett's report it was easier to interest men with money. 
Having associated with himself Brooks and Patrick Sulli- 
van and other men of Casper, Parker located all of the 
Government land in what is now the Big Muddy field. (*6) 
A group of California men, including the eminent geologist 
Ralph Arnold and one Waltmeyer of Denver, succeeded in 
securing leases upon a large part of the patented and state 
lands. A group of Glenrock citizens secured some leases, 
and the excitement became so feverish that there was some 
confusion as to rights, which had to be adjusted before 
actual operations would begin. (*7) 

The Shannon sand was reached August 25, 1915, and 
paying quantities of oil were found. Several shallow wells 
were drilled in 1915 and the early part of 1916, but it was 
not until November, 1916, that the Wall Creek sand was 

*5 Contributions to Economic Geology, United States Geologic Survey, Depart- 
ment of the Interior, Bulletin No. 581, Part II, 105-117, 1913. 

*6 The Midwest Review, 1, No. 7, July, 1920, 5 ; No. 9, September, 1920, 12-14. 
*7 Ibid, No. 7, 4-5, 30-31 ; No. 9, 12-14. 


reached at a depth of about 3,000 feet. This well came in 
with a flush production of 300 barrels per day. Barnett 
did not live to see the fulfillment of his prediction, for he 
died in 1916 before the completion of the first Wall Creek 
well. However, the oil companies united in presenting a 
handsome sum of money to his widow in token of their ap- 
preciation of her husband's services. (*8) 

The Midwest Refining took the lead in production, and 
by July, 1920, had one hundred and thirty-five wells com- 
pleted, seventy being to the Wall Creek sand. Other com- 
panies secured leases at varying prices. J. T. Hurst and 
associates are said to have paid $100,000 for a lease on the 
east half of section 16. The Ohio Oil Company secured 
some leases in the east end of the field., drilled many wells of 
considerable production and built one of the largest and 
finest machine shops in the State. 

A. E. Humphreys and R. B. Whiteside deserve much 
credit for advancing the capital for the test well, and they 
have continued in the field to develop it. The Texas Com- 
pany secured a valuable lease on the ranch of the Mountain 
Home Sheep Company. The Midwest Refining Company 
sold out in 1923 to the Mutual Company, which is now the 
Continental Oil Company, a subsidiary of the Standard Oil 
Company of Indiana. 

The increase in the valuation of the County since the 
Big Muddy field was opened has been very rapid. In 1919 
the value of oil and the related products was §3,139,698.00, 
that of the entire county was $20,299,398.00; in 1924 the 
value of oil and related products was $7,485,079.00 ; that of 
the entire County was $22,886,546.00. Of the approximate 
increase in the valuation in 1920 over that of 1919 of 
$1,500,000.00 almost $1,300,000.00 was from oil. The period 
1921, 1922, and 1923 was depressing for the oil business. 
Prices of crude oil went down steadily because of over pro- 
duction. Work of every kind was limited and production 
decreased to the point of abandoning many of the wells and 
drilling was absolutely stopped. In 1923 the valuation of 
oil and related products was only $1,791,156.00. The large 
valuation for 1924 was caused by increased production, bet- 
ter prices for crude oil and the assessing of the two refiner- 
ies at Glenrock. There should be an increase in valuation 
for 1925 because both of the refineries at Glenrock have 
been improved and their capacities increased. There was 
one other factor that contributed to the increase for 1924, 
the assessing of the Sinclair Pipe Line (connects the Teapot 

*8 Ibid, No. 7, 30. 


Dome field with the East), which passes through Converse 
County. (*9) The valuation of School District No. 15, of 
which Glenrock is a part, has been increased the exact valu- 
ation of the oil business, for the oil field and refineries are 
located in this district. The present valuation of the Dis- 
trict (1924) is about $8,000,000.00, of which 75% is oil and 
related products. J. E. Higgins, most substantial citizen 
of Glenrock, says, in an article written for the Midwest Re- 
view, that the oil field is the source of the wealth that has 
built and now sustains Glenrock. (*10) The development 
of the oil industry has made possible the building and equip- 
ping of the very best school buildings in Glenrock and Par- 
kerton. There has been the direct benefit of increased valu- 
ation to aid in raising local taxes for building and maintain- 
ing schools, and in addition there has been an indirect sup- 
port from the oil industry in the way of apportionment of 
the federal oil royalties and the income from the permanent 
school fund of the state, which has greatly increased from 
the leasing of school sections in the various oil fields espe- 
cially in the Salt Creek field. Wyoming schools receive 
50% of all the federal oil royalties of the state. From the 
distribution of the federal oil royalties for the school year 
1923-1924 Converse County received $80,836.15. From the 
distribution of the interest received from loans made from 
the permanent school fund Converse County received the 
same year $28,678.90. (*11) The budget for School Dis- 
trict No. 15 (Glenrock and Parkerton) for the school year 
1924-1925 called for $60,000.00 and the school board esti- 
mated that something like $36,000.00 would be received 
from outside the district. This means that the burden of 
local taxation is greatly lessened because of the funds re- 
ceived from oil royalties. 

If the state oil royalties are carefully guarded and in- 
vested safely there is every reason to feel that the future 
of the education of the children of Wyoming is safe. The 
permanent fund now amounts to over $12,000,000.00, (*12) 
and is increasing very rapidly. Other things contribute to 
the permanent fund, but the income from leasing the state 
school sections for oil development is by far the most im- 
portant source and likely to be the first exhausted. No one 
knows how much oil lies hidden under the school sections, 
but it is certain that what has already been found is now 
being exploited fast. The state is to be commended in get- 

*9 State Beard of Equalization, Biennial Reports 1919-1924. 
*10 Midwest Review, 1, Part II, 12 July, 1920. 

*11 Petroleum Industry of Wyoming, 1924, 29, 35 (Pamphlet published by the 
Rockv Mountain Oil and Gas Producers Association, Caspar, vVyoming. 
*12 Ibid, page 14. 


ting its proper share of the oil, otherwise a priceless heri- 
tage for the public schools would be lost forever. 

There are other mineral resources in Converse County, 
and in the future these will likely be developed. Deposits 
of nitrate have been found south of Glenrock. Should these 
prove to be of commercial value they will be exploited. Coal 
exists in abundance. There are outcroppings in many places 
and many ranchmen and homesteaders get their fuel from 
these open veins. Some of this coal is of good quality, but 
the distance to market has so far rendered shipments of 
coal impossible for gain, and there is no reason to anticipate 
shipment of coal from Converse County until supplies nearer 
markets are exhausted. Local manufactures and railroads 
may use more in the future. As it is today this is one re- 
source undeveloped. The greatest valuation given to coal 
production in the County was in 1923 when the combined 
assessed valuation was $25,161.00. Whether the old veins 
of copper and silver are ever used the future will decide. 


A small settlement grew up in the immediate vicinity 
of Fort Fetterman, which was established in 1867. (*1) 
After this fort was abandoned in 1878, the Government sold 
the property to private citizens and the settlement was con- 
tinued. Freighting was carried on from the Union Pacific 
.to Fort Fetterman, and to Fort McKinney to the northwest. 
;The Tolland Cattle Company was established on Deer Creek 
m 1877, |and John Hunton located on Boxelder that same 
year. (*>2) During the Mormon immigration to Utah a 
band of them made a temporary settlement south of the 
present site of Glenrock. Small settlements were made 
along the La Prele and La Bonte Creeks in the late '70s and 
early '80s. None of the settlements were very large. After 
it became known that a railroad was to follow the North 
Platte into the Fetterman country more people began to 
come, but Barlow estimated that there were only 300 people 
at Fort Fetterman in the spring of 1886, and this made the 
point where all the new settlers came before the site of 
Douglas was established. 

*13 State E'oard of Equalization, Biennial Report, 1923-1924. 

*1 Hebard, G. R., History and Government of Wyoming, 44. 

*2 Cross, G. H., "Early Explorers," in Quarterly Bulletin, Wyoming Historical 
Department, 1, Nos. 1 and 2, 12. 

*3 Bill Barlow's Budg-t— 21st Anniversary Edition, 1907. 


The railroad brought a large number of people. Towns 
sprang up all along the railroad, which reached Glenrock 
late in 1887. In spite of the severe winter of 1886-1887, 
with its attendant business failures and discouragements 
the population of Converse County in 1890 was 2,738. (*4) 

The Chicago and Northwestern Railroad reached Doug- 
las in 1886, and it afforded direct line of communication 
with Nebraska, South Dakota and Iowa, the states that 
were most likely to furnish settlers. In 1891 the Cheyenne 
and Northern Railroad reached Orin Junction, where con- 
nection was made with the Chicago and Northwestern. 
These means of communication greatly facilitated settle- 

The Government Land Office was established at Doug- 
las November 1, 1890, and this office served a great pur- 
pose in encouraging settlement on the lands. The Govern- 
ment adopted a very liberal land policy after 1909. At this 
time an act was passed which allowed a total of 320 acres 
to one homesteader. In 1912 this act was amended so as to 
permit a settler to make final proof in three years. The 
Act of 1909 must have been considerable encouragement to 
homesteading for the population in 1910 was 6,294, an in- 
crease of 88.6% over the population of 1900. The most lib- 
eral land act in the history of the Government was passed in 
December, 1916, the Stock-Raising Act, which allowed a 
total filing of 640 acres. The effect of this Act on home- 
steading was astonishing. Within six months after its 
passage approximately 712,000 acres of land was home- 
steaded in Converse County. The population of the County 
in 1920 was 7,871, a gain of 25.1%. (*6) In 1913 Niobrara 
County was created out of the eastern part of Converse 
County, and if the population of the two counties combined 
is counted the gain of 1920 over 1910 is 125%. All the 
gain in population was not caused by the liberal land policy, 
for oil in commercial quantities was discovered in Converse 
County in 1915. Previously oil had been discovered in 
1905, but the amount had not proved to be of lasting quan- 
tities. Some idea of the effect on population of the County 
because of the development of the Big Muddy oil field is 
shown by comparing the population of Glenrock in 1915 
with that of 1920. The State Census for 1915 gave 220 as 
the population of Glenrock, (*7) the federal census for 
1920 gave 1,003 (*8) as the population. This did not in- 

*4 Fourteenth Census, Wyoming Compendium, 11. 

*5 Ibid. 

*6 Ibid. 

*7 State Census of Wyoming, 1915-10. 

*8 Fourteenth Census, Wyoming Compendium, 1920, 14. 


elude the inhabitants of the field. Various estimates of 
the number of people living in the field in 1920 were from 
1,200 to 1,500. The number of school children enrolled in 
the Parkerton school the school year 1921-1922 was 
170. (*9) This school took care of all the school children 
in the Big Muddy field that school year. Practically every 
family in the field is there because of the oil industry. 

The State Legislature established an immigration bu- 
reau for the purpose of encouraging settlement in Wyo- 
ming. The apropriations for this bureau were very meager 
until J. M. Carey became Governor. In his message to the 
Legislature in 1911, Governor Carey stressed the im- 
portance of the work that could be done by the immigra- 
tion bureau in encouraging desirable citizens to settle in 
the state. Governor Carey was a firm believer in the agri- 
cultural possibilities of the state, and he felt that a good 
class of farmers, preferably sons of the farmers of the 
neighboring western states, should be given every encour- 
agement to come to Wyoming. At present there are no pub- 
lished statistics available that show just where the present 
residents of Converse County formerly lived, but the sta- 
tistics for the entire state are fairly representative of the 
separate counties. Of the total population, 194,402, in 1920, 
167,835 were native born, that is, both parents were born in 
the United States. Of the latter number 48,982 were born 
in Wyoming and 77,412 in the states of Nebraska, Iowa, 
Missouri, Illinois, Colorado, Kansas, Utah, Wisconsin and 
South Dakota. (*10) If these figures are representative 
of the relative number of its inhabitants that come from 
the states named then it is reasonable to infer that the 
County has the class of citizens that Carey desired. There 
were only 495 foreigners in the County in 1920, and more 
than half were from Germany, Canada, Sweden and Eng- 
land. (*11) The Fourteenth Census shows that of 6,165 
inhabitants ten years of age and over there were 15 illiter- 
ate, or 0.2% per cent. This is an exceptionally high per- 
centage of illiterates. Schools are numerous and well at- 
tended, for the same census reports that 94.5% of all the 
children of ages seven to thirteen years inclusive were in 
school, and 86.9% of those fourteen and fifteen years of 
age. Separate dwellings for families are almost universal, 
for there are 1,947 dwellings for 2,065 families. (*12) An- 
other promising thing about the population is the fact that 

*9 School Records District No. 15 (Glenrock) 1921-1922. 

*10 Fourteenth Census, Wyoming Compendium, 28. 

*11 Ibid, 24. 

♦12 Ibid, 20. 












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of the 2,065 families, 1,170 of them owned their hemes. 

Converse County has only three incorporated cowns. 
The entire population is classed as rural, that is, no town 
has a population of 2,500 or more. The three incorporated 
towns had a combined population of 3,418 in 1920, (*14) 

'13 Ibid, 30. 

'14 Fourteenth Census, Wyoming Compendium, 14. 


while the total population of the County was 7,871. The 
density of the population was 1.9 per square mile. While 
the density of the population would place the County in the 
frontier class there are very few of the old marks of the 
frontier remaining. No buffalo are ever seen, except a 
very small herd on the Carey Kanch, and antelope and all 
other wild game are about gone. The Fourteenth Census 
reported the presence of one Indian in Converse County in 
1920, (*15) and it is quite safe to assume that this lone 
Indian possesses no mark of savagery. That part of the 
Bozeman Trail that was northwest of Douglas, which is 
now the Ross Road, (*16) is now a Government mail route. 
This road, passage over which was so hotly contested by 
the Indians in the days of Red Cloud, is lined on either side 
by mail boxes, a few cream stations and one or two small 
stores. Instead of the Indian wars and savage reprisals 
there is government with courts of justice; instead of long- 
horned Texas cattle there are white-faced Herefords; and 
instead of a few syndicate ranches with their thousands of 
cattle and claims to the "open range" there are hundreds 
of farms and small ranches with a few grazing livestock 
and small dairy herds. Converse County has, indeed, passed 
through several stages of its economic growth and is now 
entering what bids to be its most promising phase — that of 
stock farming. 




Moonlight, Governor Thomas 

Report of Territorial Governor of Wyoming to the Secretary of 
the Interior, 1887. 

Report of Territorial Governor of Wyoming to the Secretary of 
the Interior, 1888. 

Warren, Governor Francis E. 

Report of the Territorial Governor of Wyoming to the Secretary 

of the Interior, 1889. 

Message to the First Legislative Assembly, 1890. 

Richards, Governor W. A. 

Message to Third Legislative Assembly, 1895. 
Message to Fourth Legislative Assembly, 1897. 

*15 Ibid, 19. 

*16 See map page 


Richards, Governor J. DeForest 

Address of Governor J. DeForest Richards on Retiring. 

Message to Fifth State Legislature, 1899. 

Message to Sixth State Legislature, 1901. 

Message to the Seventh State Legislature, 1903. 
Brooks, Governor B. B. 

Message to the Eighth State Legislature. 1905 

Message to the Ninth Legislature, 1907. 
Carey, Governor Joseph M. 

Message to the Eleventh State Legislature, 1911. 

Message to the Twelfth State Legislature, 1913. 
Kendrick, Governor John B. 

Message to the Thirteenth State Legislature, 1915. 

Message to the Fourteenth State Legislature, 1917. 
Carey, Governor Robert D. 

Message to the Fifteenth State Legislature, 1919. 

Message to the Sixteenth State Legislature, 1921. 
Ross, Governor William B. 

Message to the Seventeenth State Legislature, 1928 
Ross, Governor Nellie Tayloe 

Message to the Eighteenth State Legislature, 1925 

State Board of Equalization, Annual Report, 1895. 

State Board of Equalization, Annual Report, 1897. 

State Board of Equalization, Annual Report, 1898. 

State Board of Equalization, Biennial Report, 1919-1920. 

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State Board of Equalization, Biennial Report, 1923-1924. 

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State Engineer, Biennial Report, 1911-1912. 

State Engineer, Biennial Report, 1919-1920. 

State Engineer, Biennial Report, 1921-1922. 

State Engineer, Biennial Report, 1923-1924. 

State Board of Sheep Commissioners, Report 1908. 

State Board of Sheep Commissioners, Report 1912. 

State Board of Sheep Commissioners, Report 1916. 

State Board of Sheep Commissioners, Report 1922. 

State Board of Sheep Commissioners, Report 1924. 

State Board Live Stock Commissioners, Biennial Report 1911-12. 

State Board Live Stock Commissioners, Biennial Report, 1917-18. 

State Board Live Stock Commissioners, Biennial Report, 1919-20. 

State Board Live Stock Commissioners, Biennial Report, 1921-22. 

State Board Live Stock Commissioners, Biennial Report, 1923-24. 

Commissioner of Lands, Biennial Report, 1911-1912. 

Commissioner of Lands, Biennial Report, 1913-1914. 

Commissioner of Lands, Biennial Report, 1915-1916. 

Commissioner of Lands, Biennial Report, 1917-1918. 

Commissioner of Lands, Biennial Report, 1919-1920. 

Commissioner of Lands, Biennial Report, 1921-1922. 

Farm Loan Commissioner, First Biennial Report, 1921-1922. 

Commissioner of Public Lands and Farm Loans, Biennial Report, 
1923, 1924. 

Census for the State of Wyoming, 1915. 

State of Wyoming Tabulation of Adjudicated Water Rights in 
Division No. 1, July 1, 1921. 

Wyoming Agricultural Statistics No. 1, 1923. 



Abstracts of the Assessors Rolls for 1909, 1910, 1911, 1912, 1913, 

1914, 1915, 1916, 1917, 1918, 1919, 1920, 1921, 1922, 1923 

and 1924. 
Corporation Records. 
Commissioners' Journals. 
Records of School District No. 5. 
Department of the Interior. 

Census for 1890, Population, Vol. 1, Part II. 

Census for 1900, Population, Vol. 11, Part I, 425. 

Census for 1910, Supplement for Wyoming. 

Census for 1920, Wyoming Compendium. 

Messages and Documents, 1, 1895-1896. 

Commissioner of the General Land Office, Report 1912. 

Commissioner of the General Land Office, Report 1916. 

Commissioner of the General Land Office, Report 1917. 

Commissioner of the General Land Office, Report 1918. 

Commissioner of the General Land Office, Report 1921. 

Commissioner of the General Land Office, Report 1923. 

Commissioner of the General Land Office, Report 1924. 

Vacant Public Lands July 1, 1916 Circular No. 484. 

Vacant Public Lands July 1, 1923. 

Contributions to Economic Geology United States Geologic 

Survey Bulletin No. 581, Part II, 1913. 


Wyoming State Historical Department. 

Quarterly Bulletin, 1, No. 4, April 15, 1924. 

Quarterly Bulletin, 1, No. 1, July 15, 1924. 

Quarterly Bulletin, 1, Nos. 1 and 2, August 15, 1924. 

Quarterly Bulletin, 11, No. 2, November 1, 1924. 

Quarterly Bulletin, 11, No. 3, January 15, 1925. 

Wyoming Historical Collections, 1, 1897. 

Wyoming Historical Society Report (Miscellanies) 1919. 

Proceedings and Collections, 1919-1920. 

Wyoming Historical Report, 1921-1923. 

Corporation Records. 

Commissioners' Journals. 

Records School District No. 15, 1921-1922. 
Petroleum Industry, 1924. 

(Pamphlet Published by the Rocky Mountain Oil and Gas 

Producers Association). 

State of Wyoming Tabulation of Adjudicated Water Rights 

in Division No. 1, July 1, 1921. 

Wyoming Agricultural Statistics No. 1, 1923. 


Bancroft, H. H., History of Nevada, Colorado and Wyoming, 1890. 

Buck, Solon J., The Granger Movement, 1914. 

Chittenden, H. M., History of the American Fur Trade in the 

Far West, 3 Volumes, 1902. 
Clemen, R. A., American Livestock Industry, 1922. 
Coman, Katherine, Economic Beginnings of the Far. West, 2 

Volumes, 1912. 
Coutant, C. G., History of Wyoming, 1, 1899. 


Hebard, G. R., History and Government of Wyoming, 1914. 
Pathbreakers from River to Ocean, 1913. 
Marking the Oregon and Bozeman Trails (Pamphlet). 

Hebard, G. R. and Brininstool, A. E., The Bozeman Trail, 2 

Hough, Emerson, The Passing of the Frontier, 1918. 

Inman, Colonel Henry and Cody, William F. 
The Great Salt Lake Trail, 1913. 

Irving, Washington, Astoria, Hooper, Clarke and Company, Uni- 
versity Edition N. D. 

The Adventures of Captain Bonneville, Hooper. 
Clarke and Company, University Edition, N. D. 

Love, Clara M., "History of the Cattle Industry in the South- 
west," in Southwestern Historical Quarterly XIX, 370-399. 

Midwest Refining Company. 

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Parkman, Francis, The Oregon Trail, Ginn & Company, 1910. 

Paxson, F. L., The Last American Frontier. 

Root, F. A. and Connelly, W. E. 

The Overland Stage to California, 1901. 

Visscher, W. L., The Pony Express, 1908. 

Yesterday and Today, A History of the Chicago and North- 
western Railway System, 1910. 


Bill Barlow's Budget — 21st Anniversary Edition, 1907, Douglas, 

Casper, Wyoming, Daily Tribune, March 25, 1925. 


Mr. John Jackson Clarke of Mexico City sent in the following 
corrections for his manuscript which appeared in Volume 6, Numbers 
1 and 2, of Annals of Wyoming: 

Page 225, paragraph 6, last line — substitute the name of O. H. 
Earl for that of W. B. Doddridge. 

Page 226, next to the last line from the bottom — "pale" should 
be pall. 

Page 228, next to the last line from the bottom, the name "New- 
come" should be spelled wherever it appears "Newcomb." 

In Annals of Wyoming, Vol. 6, Nos. 1 and 2, Page 191, first line, 
last word: Typographical error — read Hague for Hayden. 


Hill City, S. Dak. 
July 21st, 1926. 
Mrs. E. C. Raymond, 
Newcastle, Wyo. 
Dear Madam — 

Enclosed you will find a short article on early day 
life of Camp Jenney (Jenney Stockade), which I hope will 
be of some use to you. I had some old photografs of the 


camp and stockade, also Fanny Peak, but these I have 
been unable to find. If the following datas and facts are 
of interest to you, well and good. 

In order to lay a foundation for the correct datas and 
facts relative to the early history of the Jenney Stock- 
ade (or Camp Jenney, the latter term being used in all 
early Army reports) it becomes necessary to go back to 
the year 1857 and to the month of September. On the 
12th of September, 1857, Lieut. G. K. Warren of the U. 
S. Topographical Engineers in company with Dr. F. V. 
Hayden as Geologist explored the west portion of the Black 
Hills as far north as Inyan Kara Mountain. The Sioux 
Indians in great numbers objected to their going further 
north and Warren's party turned back and camped on 
the east fork of the Beaver identical with the Jenney Stock- 
ade, where they constructed a corral for their horses and 
rolled up a few logs as breast-works in case of attack by 
Indians. This the Warren expedition was the first author- 
ized expedition to enter the Black Hills and their first 
camp within the Black Hills territory was where the Jen- 
ney Stockade was afterwards erected. 

On May 17th, 1875, Prof. Walter P. Jenney and party 
of scientists and miners, 18 men in all, left Cheyenne for 
Fort Laramie where they were joined by a military escort 
of over 400 soldiers and teamsters (75 wagons and 2 am- 
bulances) . 

This party, with escort left Fort Laramie on May 25 
for the Black Hills traveling northeast to Rawhide Creek 
thence north on east side of Rawhide Buttes to Old 
Woman's Creek, and down that creek to the Cheyenne 
River thence down the Cheyenne River about 6 miles where 
they crossed the river and traveled northeast to Beaver 
Creek. On the 3rd day of June they camped on the east 
fork of Beaver Creek. On the 4th of June the erection 
of a stockade was begun and completed about the 10th 
of that month. Stockade was 85 by 122 feet with 2 log 
houses within its walls where the provisions were stored. 

Lieutenant Warren's corral and rifle pits were still 
there although the logs were in state of decay. The camp 
was first known as Camp Jenney. In 1876 the name gen- 
erally used was "Jenney Stockade." It first served as a 
supply station for the expedition, provisions being hauled 
from Ft. Laramie to the stockade then distributed to the 
different camps throughout the Hills. 

In October, 1875, on the 5th, the Jenney party and 
soldiers left for Fort Laramie and the east, leaving one 


man at the stockade with a small stock of remaining pro- 

During the winter of '75-'76 it was a stopping place 
for gold seekers coming from Cheyenne by the Jenney 
trail. In the summer of 1876 it was used by the Cheyenne 
and Black Hills Stage Co. (Gilmer Salisbury and Patrick) 
as a station. In 1877 on the 22nd day of June, Messrs. 
Flarida and Spencer secured possession. The winter of 
'77-'78 Mr. Spencer having bought Flarida's interest organ- 
ized the L.A.K. (LAK) Cattle Company, R. D. Lake and 
Sam Alerton becoming partners of J. C. Spencer. Their 
foreman Geo. Burrows came with Flarida and Spencer in 
'77. J. C. Spencer became the sole owner in 1886. 

One little episode connected with the beginning of the 
stockade days will be noted as the memory vibrates with 
the echoes of the hills sent back from that time. On 
June 7th, '75, one Henry Keats drove into camp with a 
team of ponies hitched to a rather large two-wheeled cart. 
He made camp on the creek bank nearby. That night 
nearly every man got drunk, Mr. Keats having supplied 
the whiskey at 50 cents per drink. The noise and howling 
scared all living things excepting snakes. Mr. Keats was 
sent back to Ft. Laramie under escort the next day. 

The road to Custer City from the stockade was known 
as the Stonewall road as Stonewall was Custer City's 
name at first. The road running north from Jenney Stock- 
ade was called the Warren Trail after Lieut. Warren who 
made it. 

Sincerely Yours, 


The Jenney Expedition was at the request of President 
Grant, authorized by Congress in February, 1875, directing 
the Secretary of the Interior to organize and start an ex- 
ploring expedition at once. 


Walter P. Jenney was selected to lead this party with 
Prof. Henry Newton, E. M. as Geologist; Capt. Horace 
Tuttle, Astrologer; E. C. Newberry, A. M. ; W. F. Patrick, 
E. M.; Lieut. J. G. Burke, Topographer; D. V. T. McGil- 
licuddy, Topographer. 


John Brown, Jr. ; Wm. H. Root ; Wm. 0. Baldwin ; A. J. 
Bottsford; A. P. Sanders; T. H. Mallory; Thos. Morey; 
James Conklin; Robert M. Jones. 



A. E. Guerin; Geo. Bowlin. 

This is a complete list of the Jenney party. 18 men 
in all. 

This party joined an escort at Fort Laramie under 
command of Lieut. Colonel Richard Irving Dodge of the 23rd 
Infantry, U. S. A. With him were 400 men and officers 
and teamsters. As this command built the "Jenney Stock- 
ade" their or the officers' names might be of interest and 
are as follows: 

Lieut. Col. Richard Irving Dodge, 23rd Infantry ; Lieut. 
J. F. Trout ; Lieut. M. F. Foot, 9th Inf. ; Capt. E. L. Burke, 
9th Inf.; Capt. J. G. Burke, Q. M., 3rd Cavalry; Capt. 
Wm. Holley, 3rd Cavalry; Capt. 0. E. Munson, 9th Inf.; 
Lieut. DeLong, 9th Inf. ; Capt. 0. P. Spaulding, 2nd Cavalry ; 
Lieut C. F. Holley, 2nd Cavalry; Lieut Wm. Coole, 2nd 
Cavalry; Lieut. R. Kingsbury, 2nd Cavalry; Capt. A. Rus- kV^^^v 
sell, 3rd Cavalry ; Capt. J. Wessal, 3rd Cavalry ; Lieut. C. ^ . ^ tj£~ 
King, 3rd Cavalry; Lieut. Whitman; Lieut. L. Lawson; t } 
Lieut. F. Foster; Lieut. H. E. Morton. 


These are officers of Lieut. Col. Dodge's command. ^<J 

rv> , 




I was born in the little village of Willoughby, Lake 
County, Ohio, on November 14, 1841. I was a fretful, cross, 
and sickly child until I was 7 years old, when my parents 
sent me to live with my aunt and uncle on a farm, in hopes 
that the change would be beneficial to me. It did im- 
prove my health, and I remained with them until I was 
about 16 years of age or a few months past, frequently 
visiting my parents in town. Then I begun to dislike the 
farm, finally leaving it altogether, going back to the village. 

Next I got the "railroad fever," and as I was too 
small in stature to fill any other place, I learned telegraphy. 
That was accorded me if I would go on as a messenger boy 
without pay. When I was 17, I was given a position as 
night operator, then a relief operator, and then a permanent. 
Two years later the Civil War broke out and I tried to 
enlist, but I was first prevented from doing so by my 
father, and later by the Legislature passing a law to the 
effect that the enlisting officers were forbidden to enlist 
Railroad operators. 


A short time after this, I was discharged from rail- 
road duties because, as I afterward learned, the Superin- 
tendent believed that confinement would kill me. [ 

On a Sunday morning early in October, 1861, myself * 
and three other boy telegraphers were by appointment, 
assembled in the office of Mr. Ward, a prominent official 
of the Western Union Telegraph Company, to receive in- 
structions regarding a trip to the western wilds of the 
American continent. There they were to take positions 
along the route of the line, then being built from Omaha 
to Salt Lake, where it was to connect with the line of the 
California State Telegraph Company then in process of 
construction from San Francisco eastward. 

They were under contract to stay at least one year, 
unless forced by accident or illness to return, in which event 
they were to be returned at the company's expense. 

On the following morning they embarked for the trip. 
One of their number, a Mr. Brown, was in charge. He 
was to pay all expenses, and being the oldest of the party, 
was to be the director of their movements until they met 
with an official to relieve him. They were a happy party 
as they took the train out of Cleveland, Ohio, and were 
informed of the route they were to follow, viz., to St. 
Joseph, Missouri, via Chicago. From the start to the end 
of the railroad journey they received constant reminders 
of the awful condition our country was then in. At every 
station the same scene was enacted ; the weeping of women 
and the cheering of men — that accompaniment to the going 
away of volunteers who were joining the ranks of the war I 
then in progress. When we reached St. Joseph, we found' 
the streets patrolled by soldiers. 

On the following morning we resumed our travels 
going seven miles out of St. Joseph to the terminus of a 
railroad then being built, and where the stage lire to 
Council Bluffs commenced. Here began our "tenderfoot" 
career, as expressed by the westerners of that time. 

Our trip to Council Bluffs, consuming a day and a 
night, was uneventful. The agent at one point where the 
drivers changed took particular pains to impress upon 
the passengers, the fact that the driver was a novice and 
to look out for trouble. The warning was unheeded how- 
ever, and no one was frightened. At Council Bluffs we 
crossed the Missouri River to Omaha, and that night took 
the Omaha stage for the far west. 

Our next delay was at Fort Kearney, Nebraska for two 
days, and then to JulesbiuifTPhere the Assistant Superin- 
tendent Ellsworth stopped the gang for location and in- 
structions. From Julesburg, Colorado, each became an in- 




dividual unit. Brown was sent to Fort Laramie to work 
a repeating station, McReynolds to South Pass Station, 
the other boy, whose name I am unable to recall, to Chim- y 
ney Rock, and myself to DeerCreek^ These telegraph 
stations were all situated oil ITfe - Oregon Trail, and were 
of vast importance to stage lines, pony express, and emi- 
grants. Deer Creek was one hundred miles west of Fort 
Laramie, and twenty-eight miles east of where Casper was 
later situated. The Station had been in existence two 
years when I arrived there as telegraph operator^-and was 
used by the pony express, and Holliday Stages. \Bisonette 
had establishecTTTTe^rading posTTFTeTe some timelDefore 
my advent, but when I landed in 1861 it bore evidence of 
having been inhabited, perhaps several years before. Major 
Twiss, who was a West Point graduate had been sent out 
there as an Indian Agent in President Buchanan's time — 
about 1856, and was relieved in 1861. Bisonette was con- 
ducting a trading station there some years before this, 
operating all thru the Powder River and Pole Creek ter- 
ritory, then occupied by the Sioux, Shoshones and Arapa- 
hoes. He also ran a scow ferry on the North Platte River, 
using the force of the current to propel the scow. This 
trade was very much depressed in 1862, and gradually 
petered out after the stage line was established. This 
old Indian Agency was three miles up Deer Creek from 
the telegraph station. — - 


M^lmFriend was telegraph operator at Horseshoe Sta- 
tion wKinfl was at Deer Creek. There was* then a bridge 
over the Platte River, known as Guinard's toll bridge, and 
this is now the present site of the city of Casper. 
Years before there had been another bridge known as John 
Richards' (pronounced Reshaw) bridge over the Platte 
about six or seven miles east of the first mentioned one, but 
after the Guinard bridge was built the Richards bridge was 
almost totally abandoned. I knew both these men well. 

Not long after the arrival of we four operators into 
the land of the setting sun, Mr. McReynolds and the Chim- 
ney Rock man returned to "civilization," Brown was pleas- d 
antly occupied at the Fort, so this narrative will not 
further include them. 

Here began my life of pioneering, among indescrib- 
able dangers, for savage Indians lurked among the friendly 
hills, and outlaws, seeking refuge from officers in the east 
were not a few. /Why I was chosen for telegraph operator 
at Deer Creek was a mystery, for I was small of stature, 
weighing only about a hundred pounds, and appearing very 
frail. Deer Creek was a French trading station on Slades 



Division. There was very hostile feeling between Slade and 
the French. This condition was explained to me, and I was 
told by Mr. Ellsworth that he looked to me to keep the 
friendship of both parties, and show equal regard to all. 

I was detained at Julesburg one day longer than the v 
others and then sent out alone, except for the two men who 
constituted the crew for every stage, the driver and the 
mail guard. The trip so far was monotonous, nothing 
to divert the mind — just open trails as far as observable 
to the summit of a range of hills which appeared to be 
but a short distance from us, but was really miles away. 
I found that distance was hard to judge by one coming 
from the east lowland as portrayed by an incident which 
occurred the day after leaving Julesburg. I asked the driv- 
er if he would wait a few minutes at Chimney Rock sta- 
tion, where they exchanged mules. I explained to him that 
I wished to run up and see the formation of the rock that 
gave the place its name, but I was very curtly informed 
that they wouldn't wait. I felt quite hurt at the rebuff. 
The mail guard, feeling sorry for me, kindly proposed to 
the driver to let me take his (the guard's) place on the 
outside, as we would pass thru Scottsbluff, which would 
be a pleasant change from the monotony. This we did, 
and as soon as we were under way the driver apologized 
for the way he had spoken to me, and informed me that 
Chimney Rock was ten miles from the station, and to 
prove his assertion, he asked how long it would take to 
go from where we were then and return. I got wise and 
allowing for deception of appearances, answered, "Fifteen 
minutes." I was told to look at my watch, and the driver 
added, "You don't look as if you could keep up with this 
team very far, and I am going to keep up my present gait 
for an hour to reach the foot of the bluff." Well he made 
it in an hour and five minutes. 

I arrived at my destination in the night and found ^ 
that another operator had been working there, and had an " 
instrument placed and everything ready for me. He 
wished me all kinds of luck in my new home, boarded the 
stage and went on west, I presume to open up somewhere 

In the morning I awoke in the little log cabin assigned 
to me and went out to survey the situation. I found my- 
self located in a cluster of primative buildings comprising 
about fifteen rooms all told, occupied as dwellings for the 
inhabitants and store-rooms for their personal effects; 
also a stockade used as a corral, and quite an extensive 
stable. The property belonged to Bisonette, a French trad- 
er and most of the men were empkjyes Of Ills. Nearly all 



of them had squaw wives. I lost no time in locating the 
cook house where I was cordially received by my future 
associates. As I had developed an appetite far from being 
in accordance with my puny appearance, the regular estab- 
lished menu of wild meat and bread cooked in a skillet, and 
coffee, was heartily welcomed. 

The old trader, Bisonette, seemed to take a liking to 
me and sent a man to fix up my quarters much nicer than 
were most of the cabins. He assured me that anything I 
wanted that was procurable in a country where there were 
no saw-mills could be had for the asking, and he very sel- 
dom missed his evening visit to my room. He began im- 
mediately to teach me the ethics of the far west, lest I 
innocently get into trouble, and the lectures came none 
too soon. 

I had been at Deer Creek only a few days when a 
pony express rider, who was discussing the Civil War then 
in progress, made a statement regarding President Lincoln's 
inaugural address which I knew to be wrong, and I told 
him so very politely. I told him I could show him a printed 
copy of the address. The man's name was Bond, and he 
soon turned and walked across the road to the trader's, and 
I then noticed that those who stood near to him, moved 
away, and I wondered what it all meant. No one spoke 
for some moments, when the cook who was standing in 
the window, called to me and I went to see what he wanted. 
He told me that it was a miracle that I was alive and asked 
if I had not seen Bond reach for his gun. Everyone ex- 
pected me to be killed for Bond was a known killer, and 
feared by all. Bisonette said that evening that Bond had 
remarked when he came to him that he didn't like to kill 
a damn tenderfoot that didn't know any better, but if I 
ever crossed him again he would sure get me. To the 
delight of everyone he left our place that night and never 
came back. I was especially pleased to know that he was 
gone. Shortly after my arrival at Deer Creek, the pony 
express was taken off, the telegraph lines haviitg com- 
pleted their connections at Salt Lake City. 

The district that was covered by the Deer Creek office, 
was about forty miles each way, and the operator there 
was to keep the line in order. 

Before I had occasion to go out to repair trouble, Ed 
Creighton, the contractor who built the line and who was 
appointed General Superintendent on its completion, came 
to Deer Creek on his way back to Omaha. He camped 
there for the night and came in to talk with me. He soon 
showed me very plainly that he did not approve of me, 
and remarked that he wondered what prompted Mr. Ward 



to send a delicate looking boy where robust men were re- 
quired. This left me in dread of being sent back east as 
a damaged lot, when I so earnestly desired to stay in the 
wilds of what later became Wyoming. 

However, my dread of deportation was shortly after- 
ward removed. Late one afternoon the Salt Lake office 
told me to prepare to go east, as all appearances indicated 
wire trouble between that city and Horse Shoe.. A horse 
was ordered for me and stood before my cabin door all 
equipped for action, and Salt Lake was notified, "All 
ready." The order was to go. It was nine miles to the 
next stage station, and darkness overtook me before I was 
half way there. However, it was a clear night and I man- 
aged to keep the wire in sight until I reached B&xelder. 
There I was comfortably put away until daylight, wherfT 
was again in the saddle, and at last located the trouble 
twenty-five miles from my office, at about 10 A. M. 

That saved me from being sent back, as the manager 
in the Salt Lake office in his report to Mr. Creighton made 
a meritorious story of it, and advised against my return, 
as I had proven myself competent. 

The time soon began to weigh heavily, there being no 
amusement except gambling, and that was banned for me, 
for I had pledged myself never to gamble when I bade my 
mother good-bye. It was the only promise she asked me 
to make, and it certainly was a fortunate one for my life 
in the territorial service. Nearly five years of my life 
was spent where gambling was a common pastime, and in- 
dulged in by the best of frontier men. 

I was called out in the afternoon of the day that Pres- 
ident Lincoln presented his annual message to Congress, 
and on horseback went to Guinard's bridge on account of 
wire trouble. How well do I remember meditating on the 
President's message as I rode along on my lonely mission. 
I thought of how far I was from home and friends, and 
the dangers which constantly surrounded us, but with all, 
I liked the wilderness. I had to go farther up the next 
day before I found the trouble, returning to the bridge 
again that night. Next night I arrived back at my station 
only to find that someone had been in my cabin and cut 
my telegraph instrument out. It took me just two days to 
get this message back to the California coast. On one oc- 
casion Jo hn Frjen ^f who was operator at Horse Shoe, came 
to Deer" - ^eek7~Snd he, two other men and myself were 
beseigecTTn a cabin there for two days by Indians. These 
were certainlv two days of horror for us, but we were res- 
cued on the third day by soldiers, who were sent to save us 
from the savages. 


teerCreek' had been a Government Indian Agency for 
the SiolIxTtTheyenne and Arapahoe tribes, under the control 
of Major = Twiss, but as the Major lost his commission as 
Indian AgelYF with the expiration of the Buchanan admin- 
istration, the agency had been moved., but the Major, who 
had adopted the habits of the country, had taken a squaw 
wife, and had several half breed children to his credit, so 
he remained in the vicinity. Someone told him that they 
had heard that I could pla^f^hes^. The Major came im- 
mediately and asked me if tirrs-'was true and when I said 
I could, he insisted on me coming to his ranch that we 
could enjoy the game we both loved so well. Thus began an 
acquaintance which greatly relieved the monotony of the 
telegraph station. In the game of chess we stood about 
fifty-fifty, and in current events of the day, especially re- 
garding the army, we exchanged notes daily. I being the 
telegraph operator, knew all the latest moves of the war- 
ring factions, and the Major /"who had served in the en- 
gineers corps in his younger days, was a perfect encyclo- 
pedia regarding the district then occupied by the contend- 
ing army. Thus we enjoyed each other's company im- 

One of the novel amusements brought out in the early 
winter was the teaching of the squaws to dance. One of 
Bisonette's men, Wheeler, was a good violinist, and a sug- 
gestion from me was sufficient. . Wheeler soon had the 
squaws dancing the old fashioned quadrilles, and they be- 
came quite efficient, altho few of them could speak English. 

Early in the winter I formed the acquaintance of a 
young man from Missouri, whose name was Brenon. He 
was superior to most of the men whom I met, but he was 
a Southerner and I was from the Abolition hotbed. How- 
ever, I wanted to be friendly and so did he. I took the 
initiative with the remark, "I want to be friendly with you. 
I like you, but you are from the South and I am a North- 
erner. Let us compromise, and leave the war entirely out 
of our conversation, as if we didn't know it exists." That 
was enough. We shook hands and became warm friends 
for the short time he lived there. Brenon later went back 
to his camp near the Platte bridge — now Casper. We met 
once after that. I had occasion to pass his camp when 
hunting wire trouble, and at his earnest request, put up 
with him for the night. Not long after that I was in- 
formed that Brenon was found dead not far from Deer 
Creek, on a trail leading to the old Indian Agency. Al- 
though several there knew his people in Missouri, no one 
seemed disposed to inform them as to his sad fate. As 
soon as I became aware of this I wrote to Brenon's father, 






whom I had learned was ex-mayor of his home town. On 
mentioning this to gigonej^e, he showed considerable ex- 
citement, but at last said that he was glad I had done it. J 
He started to leave the cabin, then turned back and in 
nervous undertones confided to me that his son and another 
half-breed named Richards (Reshaw) h^d murdered Bren- 
on. He said that the Senior Brenon was an old and greatly 
esteemed friend of his and that he had liked the young 
man very much, and that they had had young Brenon's 
body buried up near the old agency. 

In due time I received a letter from Brenon's father, 
requesting me if possible to ascertain who had murdered y/ 
his son, and have them brought to justice. He mentioned 
the father of the half-breeds as his friend, and told me to 
ask them in his name, to help me to carry out his wish. 
In the meantime, old man Richards had gone on a drunk, 
and had come to* me telling me amid a cloudburst of tears, 
of the horrible murder. He put no restriction on the use 
of this information. Writing again to Mr. Brenon, I gave 
him the names of the culprits, reminding him at the same y 
time that nothing could be done lawfully, there being no ij 
law recognized, and no one to enforce it had there been. I 
also requested Mr. Brenon not to inform anyone as to 
who had told him of this without first letting me know 
that he did so, because it would imperil my life. The old 
trader who held a commission as postmaster at Deer Creek 
had turned the post office over to me, so I felt quite safe 
that no letter would come to any of them except through 
me. But the time came in the spring for me to sit up and 7 
take notice, when two letters came to Richards from Cron- 
dalet, Missouri, the home of the Brenons. The Richards' 
camp was then up the creek about a mile above Major 
Twiss's place, and the letters were duly sent up to s ffie~m 
Tiy a man named Wheelock whom I considered worthy of 
my confidence. As the elder Richards could not read, it 
. was reasonable to suppose that he would ask Wheelock 
to read them for him, and I asked Wheelock to notify me 
immediately, in case my name was mentioned in the letters. 

Next day I went up to the Richards camp with the stock 
tender for the stage company, and found Mr. Richards 
drunk, and learned that one of his half breed sons who had 

attended the Indian school had been called upon to read 
the letters, and consequently Wheelock could give no in- 
formation concerning them. 

Richards received me very cordially, but was not long 
in letting me know that he was well aware of who had re- 
ported the murder. He stated that he had no unfriendly 
feelings for me, but blamed a Frenchman for advising me 


to do it. I noticed that young Bisonette was with young- 
Richards, and that the latter saundered off toward Where 
Richards' horse herd was. The situation looked bad to 
me, for old Richards was urging me to drink with him, so j 
I mixed a couple of drinks making his very strong, while i/^ 
my own was quite weak. A few minutes later I helped the 
old man onto his bunk, and hurriedly left the room to find 
Wheelock and the stock tender. I asked Wheelock to try 
to delay the half-breeds a little if they got away very soon, 
and told the stock tender to come on, I was going home. 
We rode at a very moderate rate until we were out of 
sight of the camp, and we had met the horse herd being 
brought in just after we started. I knew very well that 
this meant that those half-breeds were going to catch them- 
selves some horses and I also knew that that meant that 
they were going to give me a chase for my life. When I 
looked back and saw they were out of sight I said to my 
companion, "See if you can make that mule keep up with 
my pony." I told him in a few hurried words that those 
half-breeds were going to follow us with guns. He real- 
ized the precariousness of the situation as well as I did, 
and we rode like mad. We halted at Major Twiss' long 
enough to ask them to make strenuous efforts to detain 
the half-breeds for a while in order to give us a chance 
to get near enough home so that our pursuers would be 
afraid to attack us. After a most exciting chase we reached 
Deer Creek ahead of the would-be assassins, and found 
safety within the four walls of our log cabins. Next day 
I learned that the half-breeds had followed me past the v 
agency, and that they carried guns as well as revolvers, 
showing that they were surely out "after my scalp." 

A few days after this episode, the Richards moved 
away to some other camping ground. The night before 
they left, a plan which they had to decoy me out to where 
they might ambush me, was frustrated by a white man's 
squaw who had overheard them discussing it. She in- 
formed her man just in time for him to keep me from . 
walking into the trap. 

JPriends advised me to change places with some other 
operator, but I had made up my mind not to be driven out 
by such a band of outlaws. It was not long after that that 
the soldiers were stationed with us and then I felt that 
I had substantial protection. The Captain, who heard of 
the plot to kill me, told another half-breed that if ever T */ 
was found dead while he was in command at Deer Creek, 
he would hang the two half-breeds who killed Brenon with- 
out asking a question, if he had to follow them into the 
heart of the Sioux Nation. He said if he found out after- 



ward that he had got the wrong men he would charge it 
up to the Brenon murder to ease his conscience. 

I had every reason to believe that although I stood 
well with the stage men with whom I came in persona! 
contact, I did not stand well with the m_ana^ej^oXjthediy^i- 
sion, Joseph Slade, I was for some tim^^gnorSnby^SlaoTe 
when passing him on the road, and finally was taken to 
task by him over the wire, in a misunderstanding over a 
report of a stage passing the station. I had been erron- 
eously informed of the time the stage passed while I was 
asleep, and Slade had told the operator at the first crossing 
of the Sweetwater River that another operator would be 
required after he had passed his station that night. How- 
ever, in the conversation between myself and Slade when 
we met personally, Slade admitted that he was wrong in 
judging me as he had, and wished to consider the incident 
closed. He warned me against the French who composed 
the majority of his associates, and informed the operator 
at his station when he got home that he believed I was all 
right, and asked why the operator had not told him that 
I was not a Frenchman. From then on most friendly re- 
lations existed between the stage men and myself. 

Shortly after New Years, Bisonette opened up the 
season's trade with the Indians by sending his teams out 
to their camps in the sections frequented by immense herds 
of buffalo, which constituted their main support. The buf- 
falo furnished the larger part of their foods, as well as 
the tents they lived in the year around besides their cloth- 
ing and beds. They usually killed the larger percentage 
in the winter when the hair was thickest. They had a. 
strict unwritten law against shooting buffalo in the herd 
except when authorized by the council in what they called 
the "surround," and then only with bow and arrow, and 
there was a heavy penalty for the law's violation. 

The hunters were not restricted in killing deer, elk 
or antelope, in any way, any place or any time; but when 
it was deemed necessary to supply the village with dried 
meat, or judicious to slaughter for robes, the council held 
a meeting, set the day for the hunt and notified the war- 
riors. On the morning of the appointed day, the warriors 
went forth to round up a herd previously located. The 
regular rule was to go in single file until they were on 
all sides of the herd, each man riding his best horse, and 
armed with a bow and a quiver of arrows. When the entire 
herd was surrounded and the best spot chosen for the 
slaughter, they commenced riding in. The buffalo, seeing 
they were being approached, stampeded, but finding them- 
selves menaced from all sides, began to mill in a circle. As. 


isoon as the circle was well formed the warriors rode in, 
forming an outer circle, and commenced shooting arrows, 
aiming just back of the ribs of their animal and driving 
their arrows to the heart. This awful carnage was repeated 
until all the poor brutes were down, then the Indians went 
over the field to give a death blow to any that might be 
only wounded. The next move was the squaws advancing 
to skin, dress and care for the meat and hides. The sur- 
plus meat which could not be used while fresh, was "jerked" 
— cut into thin strips and dried in the sun. The "sur- 
round" takes in any where from one hundred to two or 
three hundred animals or all that constitutes the herd. 

While the traders were with the Indian villagers they 
usually sent a courier about once a week to headquarters, 
and frequently some fairly important man of the tribe ac 
companied him. That practice enabled me to meet several 
Indians who later became noted characters. The warrior 
Sitting Bull, who became the leading chief of the Sioux, and 
who afterward led the forces that destroyed the gallant 
General Custer and his army, used to send a request to me 
-every week for newspapers. He was learning to read and 
would write his request on the margin of a paper and give 
it to the courier to deliver to me. 

The chief, "Man-Afraid-Of-His-Horse," six feet and 
four inches of flesh and bone, called on me, and was deeply 
interested and awed with the wonder of the ability to talk 
hundreds of miles with a wire, and told Mr. Bisonette that 
"the little man was good medicine." 

By the time the traders returned, the young warriors 
began to get restless and had gone so far as to agitate a 
scheme to bring on hostilities between the whites and them- 
selves, having heard of the Civil War then going on, but 
their chiefs and councilmen frowned that down. Their 
orator, Lone Horn, made the closing speech, which was in- 
terpreted by the French trader, Bisonette, and was truly 
a masterpiece. This was at a meeting of their council, and 
decided that there were strenuous objections to a war with 
the whites. 

There being no other excuse for their favorite display 
of energy, the warriors organized a party to go on the war 
trail, patronized by the allied tribes and the Shoshones, 
their hereditary enemies. The aforementioned trail left 
the Platte country at the lower crossing of the Sweetwater 
River and followed that stream to the South Pass of the 
Hocky Mountains. 

The war party started out as soon as weather condi- 
tions were favorable in the spring, and when that war party 
was seen in the Sweetwater section, it was immediately her- 



aided as a hostile demonstration of the Indians, but no 
particular tribe was named. The situation was accepted 
as a justifiable excuse for discontinuing the mails and with- 
drawing all stock and employes of the Ben Holliday line for 
a distance of two hundred miles. Even though this seemed 
a plausible reason for the later arrangements, the people in 
this wild region well knew that Holliday had shouldered a 
load he could not carry, and was glad to abandon his under- 
taking on most any pretext. His live stock was run down 
and feed could not be obtained to keep it going for any 
length of time. He well knew that he could not carry mail 
which had to be brought through in that manner, so the 
newspapers were tied up in bundles at different points, un- 
loaded and were never again loaded. Permission to cease 
running until protection was secured was sought and 

When the order to clear the line from the upper 
crossing of the Sweetwater River to Horse Shoe Creek 
(Slade's headquarters) came, Creighton ordered me to be 
ready to go when the cavalcade came to him, bringing all 
his portable property, company, real and personal and burn- 
ing what he had to leave. 

I knew from the mountain men that there was no 
danger, so I asked the trader what he was going to do. 
The answer came promptly, "If you stay I will stay with 
you, and so will all of our force, but if you go so we will 
have no connection with the outside world, we will go too." 
A moment's meditation and I replied, "I will stay." Thus 
decided a most important question in the history of the 
telegraph line which followed the Oregon Trail. 

I reported to Creighton that I had decided to stay, and 
he told me to use my own judgment regarding the matter 
but not to run any risks. I was nominally in charge of 
two hundred and fifty miles of wire, but fortunately, no 
interruption occurred until all were back in their positions 

A company of cavalry was started from Fort Kearney, 
commanded by Lieutenant Alexander and reached the 
scene of trouble about two weeks later. Soon it appeared 
that the hostile tribes had quieted down, and the stage 
company re-stocked the abandoned district, and the regular 
soldiers returned to Fort Laramie. 

Abount the time of the supposed Indian hostilities on 
the Sweetwater, a battalion of the Sixth Ohio Cavalry was 
ordered from a Missouri training camp to Fort Laramie, 
and all of the regular army troops were sent east from there 
for service in the Civil War. General Craig was appointed 
commander of the department with headquarters at Fort 


Laramie, and two companies of the Sixth Ohio Cavalry 
were assigned to the old Mormon Trail on the Sweetwater. 

Under the command of Major OTarrel, everything ap- 
peared to be moving in the regular monotonous groove un- 
til about the last of June when another alarm came from 
the upper Sweetwater. A war party made its appearance 
and on the morning of July 1, the telegraph line was found 
to be down west of Sweetwater bridge. The operator at 
the bridge notified Omaha of the break and started out with 
an escort to restore connections. This opening in the line 
cut off communication with headquarters, and General 
Craig would not stand for that condition. Deer Creek was 
the only telegraph station between the two points so the 
General ordered me to go immediately to Sweetwater Cross- 
ing prepared to adjust any breaks that possibly might be 
encountered on the way. He told me to get there just as 
soon as saddle animals could make it, and to take any ani- 
mals available, wherever found that I might need, using 
the General's name as authority. The territory was under 
martial law. When I was ready to start on my journey, 
the mountaineers begged me not to think of making the 
trip alone. Eighty miles and a good part of it on a war 
trail, they considered too hazardous. On reporting this to 
the General the order was changed to include Wheelock, 
who volunteered to go with me. By 10 A. M. we were on 
our way. 

The first twenty-eight miles to Platte River bridge, 
(now Casper) we made in two hours and a quarter. There 
we changed horses and ate a lunch while the change was 
being made. We were unable to get another change of 
horses until we were within about twelve miles of our des- 
tination, and before we reached that point our animals 
were about all in, and they were not alone. I too, was 
about ready to drop, but I kept my sufferings to myself 
until Wheelock threw his bridle rein over a log which pro- 
jected from the end of the cabin, and started for an emi- 
grant train which was camped on the creek. I dropped 
my rein over the horn of Wheelock's saddle, and staggered 
into the cabin, where I dropped onto a bench just about 
ready to give up. But realizing that this would mean for 
me to turn my papers over to Wheelock, letting him finish 
the trip alone, and I would have to wait at the cabin for 
an ambulance to come back after me, I knew that that 
would cause a delay of several hours before the General 
could get into communication with the Major, and this I 
did not want to happen. Half dead, I glanced around the 
cabin, and I noticed a coffee pot near me, which proved to 
be holding a very generous supply of coffee, and I im- 


mediately drank my fill. I loosened my revolver belt and 
waited. Soon I heard the men coming to the cabin, and I 
drank another pint of the black coffee, the result being 
far above my expectations. I seemed to gain new vitality, 
and felt stronger physically and mentally. Wheelock, noting 
my fatigue, saddled my horse for me, and when I stepped 
up to mount the animal, I felt so much better that I no 
longer doubted my ability to finish the journey ; however, 
I did not resent Wheelock's offer to give me a lift to get 
on the horse and he boosted me into the saddle. 

The road for the entire distance was lined with the 
"Covered Wagon Emigration," who signalled us to stop, 
but we passed all signals, knowing the emigrants would be 
unnecessarily worried had they known why our trip was 
being made. 

We arrived at the Sweetwater Crossing just as the sun 
sank behind the mountains., and were relieved from duty 
about midnight. With my boots and coat off, I dropped 
onto a bed in the telegraph operator's room, and for the 
first time in my life I knew what it meant to be too tired 
to sleep. However, about four o'clock in the morning I 
drifted into slumber, but was routed out again at seven. 
When I attempted to arise I found myself so stiff and sore 
it seemed agony for me to move, and when at last I got 
myself dressed I could barely get around. I recovered 
rapidly though, as I had nothing to do except operate the 

The next evening after I took charge of the office at 
Sweetwater, a special stage arrived with Captain Eno, "the 
General's Adjutant," and the State Superintendent Slade 
as passengers. Slade went on up to the next line, but 
Captain Eno remained with us to report conditions to the 

The war party had cut the wire some distance from 
the second crossing, and carried away enough of it to neces- 
sitate more being obtained from the first crossing to re- 
place it. The operator whose place I was filling, did not 
finish his job of repairing and get back for about five 
days. During that time no stages were forwarded or re- 

Major O'Farrel notified me that he was going to move 
his headquarters up the river and take me with him. I 
had taken a dislike to the Major, and told him that when 
I was relieved I intended going home on the first stage 
that went out, but I was ordered to stay where I was until 
relieved. I told the Major I would do so, if provided with 
a written order. On the eighth no written order had been 
received, and to be certain, I asked the adjutant if I was 


right in taking the stand I had, and he assured me that I 
was right. A stage was being sent out that day and on 
board of it I placed all my personal belongings, and in the 
presence of Captain Eno, I notified the Major that I was 
leaving. To my surprise I was not served with a restrain- 
ing order, but the Captain brought out his baggage and 
announced that he was going with me. 

A few days after I went home it was announced that 
the stage line was changed to leave the Mormon Trail at 
Julesburg and go to Denver, thence to Bridger's Pass and 
Bitter Creek, striking the old line at Green River. The 
troops remained on the old route to protect the telegraph 
lines and the emigrants going that way. 

Now for the ridiculous significance of the incident 
created as a result of this wire being missing from the 
telegraph line. A small party of Sioux who were looking 
for the possible appearance of an enemy war party on the 
frequently occupied Shoshone Trail, was disappointed, and 
wishing to acquire something to display when they returned 
to their own camps, and not aware of the presence of the 
troops in their vicinity, also sure of their ability to cover 
their identity, cut out and carried away considerable wire, 
and got away with it before they were detected. Some 
little time after this an important member of the village 
that the wire-stealing party belonged to, came into Deer 
Creek with a report that a mysterious disease had appeared 
in the village and had caused several deaths. The symp- 
toms were a high fever, a rash and soon death followed. 
The medicine man of the tribe had looked for the cause and 
found that it originated with a warrior who was wearing 
wire around his arm, and on further investigation it was 
found that every member of the party who stole the wire 
was wearing the same adornment, and that several of the 
party had taken the disease. The medicine man ordered 
all the wire in camp to be buried, and this was done. The r 
disease soon subsided and the belief was universally pro- 
nounced among them that the "talking wire" was guarded 
by the Great Spirit, who avenged the theft and use of it. 
The telegraph operators were greatly benefited by this 
calamity, for the next two and a half years the Indians 
did not molest the wire. 

As soon as the emigration for 1862 was over, the two 
companies of soldiers, B and D were divided up into squads. 
B's headquartes under Captain Hayes was at Deer^Creek, 
one detachment was at the Three Crossings of Sweetwater 
and one at South Pass. Company D, under Captain Van 
Winkle had headquarters at Platte River bridge (Casper), 



and a detachment and hospital were located at the first 
Crossing of Sweetwater. 

When Captain Hayes established his headquarters at 
Deer Creek, he asked me to occupy his quarters with him 
at government expense, and the invitation was gladly ac- 
cepted. I found life more agreeable and more interesting 
from then to the termination of my stay on the line. Deer 
Creek, with soldiers, became a more attractive point for 
small bands of Indians, it being the only trading point for 
that section, and including the Powder River section. It 
was also the trading point for a number of prominent char- 
acters who were implicated in the war which started in 
1864 and lasted for four years. Among the chiefs who 
visited there during my time were Red Cloud and Lone 
Horn. During the visit of Double Head, I ran into wfcat 
for a very few minutes looked like a tragedy. The party 
was camped on the creek above the old agency, and one 
of the traders had gone up to open a trade with them. 
The usual ceremony practiced for such events, consisted 
of the warriors assembling in the Chief's tent for a feast 
provided by the traders, and the fixing of prices for the 
commodities offered; not money, but buffalo robes being 
the accepted standard of valuation. I visited the camp and 
happened to be dressed as a soldier, to all outward appear- 
ances. This w T as not uncommon, as citizens had no chance 
ot buy clothes, except from soldiers, and the custom was 
tolerated by the army people. This particular morning 
I wore a cavalry overcoat that came to the top of my riding- 
boots, and a cavalry officer's cap. When I visited the 
chief's tent according to custom, I noticed a decidedly 
hostile atmosphere pervading the entire band of warriors 
sitting and surrounding the fire where the cauldron con- 
taining the food for the feast was boiling; and to enhance 
the seriousness of my position, the trader, who was an 
intimate friend of mine, refused to recognize me, but sat 
looking at the ground and was ashen pale. Of course I 
was frightened when it dawned upon me that I had made 
a very serious blunder, but there was nothing to do but 
face it out, as retreat was impossible. 

I looked the frowning chief fairly in the eyes, and pretty 
soon, to my intense relief the look of hatred faded from his 
features, and when with a smile and the universal friendly 
greeting, "How Coola?" accompanied by a sign from him 
for me to come forward, I gladly obeyed. I passed up be- 
tween the warriors and the fire and was received by the ex- 
tended hands of the chief, which I received in both my own, 
and there with hands clasped, our arms were crossed, first, 
the chief's right arm on top, then reversed, my right on 


top. That completed an unusual and most cordial demon- 
stration of respect known to tribesmen. I immediately re- 
tired to the entrance, saluted the chief and stepped out. 
The trader soon followed me, still excited and overjoyed, 
and then explained the situation to me. After I had left my 
headquarters some trouble had sprung up between an In- 
dian and a soldier, and several others had joined in on both 
sides. One or two Indians had been struck by soldiers, 
and the trader had appeared at the tent shortly after the 
affair had been reported. However, Double Head's recogni- 
tion of me had saved the situation from becoming critical. 
The whole affair was settled amiably much to the relief 
of us all. 

The visits of Red Cloud's bands furnished a very good 
demonstration of tribal discipline. The morning after they 
arrived and pitched their camp, a young Indian was out 
scouting (the Ute war trail entered our valley at the head 
of Deer Creek) and soon thought he had discovered an 
enemy. He came back to headquarters in a state of ex- 
citement, and shouting a warning that a band of Utes 
were in the valley and were driving off oxen. Immediately 
there was mounting in hot haste. The warriors in full 
force and equipped for battle, hastened to the designated 
spot by the score. Red Cloud stood in front of the traders 
quarters, showing no excitement whatever. 

Captain Love went over to Bisonette and asked him 
to tell Red Cloud that his men would like to join them 
if they were going into battle, and thought the move would 
be perfectly legitimate, because the opposing tribe was 
trespassing on territory which they were protecting. Red 
Cloud replied that he would be pleased to have the cavalry 
join them, if there was any fight started, but advised that 
no move would be inaugurated until his experienced "war- 
riors confirmed the report. 

We had but a short time to await their report. The 
scout had mistaken a couple of white men who lived up 
the creek, and were corraling their work oxen for the 
"Black Men" as they called the Utes. As soon as the war- 
riors with the scout came in — the scout with his head 
bowed, and looking as though he expected to be executed — 
the Indians crowded to the center of the road in front of 
the building, the braves circulating around the scout, chant- 
ing the words he had used when he gave the alarm, and what 
else, we could not understand, but given in their own 
language but it evidently was not complimentary. To add 
to his humiliation, the squaws gathered from the camp and 
laughed the poor devil to scorn. Red Cloud explained that 
this ceremony was to impress upon the young warrior the 


enormity of the offense of raising a false alarm; but as? 
the young Indian was not aware that there were white 
men with cattle living up the creek, no further punishment 
would be dealt, for he believed the mortification of that 
day would last the young fellow a life time. 

The Cheyennes did not camp at our place, and although 
a band of them occasionally passed by they very seldom 
stopped. Two different bands of Arapahoes stopped on 
the creek. The Black Bear's and the Little Owl's villages 
located with us for several days and they were very much 
interested in the telegraph. The Little Owl, through an 
interpreter, asked me if I knew Washakie, the Chief of 
the Shoshones who was located at Fort Bridger. I did not 
know him, but told Little Owl that he might talk to him_ 
thru me if he wished. Little Owl was pleased but mysti- 
fied. The operator at Fort Bridger was called up and asked 
when he could have Washakie there to talk with Little OwL. 
It was arranged for the next afternoon, and carried out 
to the perfect satisfaction of both the chiefs, removing 
all doubts as to the truth of our claims, and Little Owl 
pronounced it "Great Medicine." 

Medicine with the Indian is not dope, and the medicine 
man is not a doctor, but is presumed to be in some degree 
inspired by the "Waka." (The Great Spirit.) The idea 
that they are all Pagans is not well founded, for their be- 
lief in a Supreme Being is apparent in various ceremonies, 
which to one unfamiliar with their language, has the ap- 
pearance of supplication to the over ruling Power adored 
by all enlightened races, but never the less would sug- 
gest a form of prayer, accompanied by a fair presentation! 
of faith. 

There is no existing history of their origin or former 
relation to other branches of humanity known to them,, 
except tradition handed down by them from generation 
to generation. Still they have a firm belief in a future 
existence where they will be happy in a hunting ground 
with all facilities for the continuance of what to them,, 
constitutes an ideal existence. They are almost as super- 
stitious as the witch-burning founders of our great city 
of Boston. When there is a war party out looking for a 
battle with an enemy tribe, they hold nightly services con- 
sisting of a dance in which they form a circle around a little 
fire, and keep time with their feet to a chant participated 
in by the squaws and some of the men, for two or three 
hours. In supplication to the same God that is humbly 
sought by the enemy, their warriors are seeking to show- 
er His favors upon their own braves as do the devout of 
enlightened nations when they are bent on the destruc- 


tion of each other in wars incited by a conflict of interests, 
commercial or religious. 

Their faith in their medicine man is frequently found- 
ed on what to the philosophical white man is coincidence, 
but to them is a striking evidence of prophetic gifts, as 
illustrated sometime previous to the advent of telegraphy 
into their vast domain. At that time an epidemic of small- 
pox broke out in a large village of one of the allied tribes 
and for a time threatened to annihilate them all. All 
white men and Indians of other villages avoided members of 
the stricken band, so that it did not spread, but some of 
the inhabitants of the disease ridden colony wandered to 
Deer Creek, and on their approach, a panic among the in- 
habitants there ensued, and the place vacated. 

The blacksmith's shop, ten by twelve feet, was seized 
as a sepulchre, and was filled to the rafters with the 
victims. The medicine man prayed constantly. He finally, 
as reported by the survivors, succeeded in awakening the 
sympathy of the Waka, and received the long-sought in- 
spiration. His followers were notified to break camp and 
move to an unoccupied valley not far distant, and the Evil 
Spirit could not enter there. His advice was unquestion- 
ingly obeyed, and there was not another fatality from the 
loathsome plague. 

The blacksmith stole back to his shop during a heavy 
wind, and approaching on the windward side, set fire to 
the shop, cremating all together, and thus destroyed the 

(Continued in October Number) 

April 1, 1930, to July 1, 1930. 

Leek, S. N. — The following photographs: The Upper Yellowstone 
River near the Park line; Outlet Lake in the old western 
outlet of Yellowstone Lake; the scene where the Snake 
River enters the gorge between Barlow Peak and Mount 
Handcock, the latter showing through the gap; Mariposa 
Lake near the source of Snake River; the true source of 
Snake River at an altitude of about two miles above sea 
level — several springs dash down the hillside and form the 
source of the great river bound for the western ocean; 
the upper Snake where a great land slide from Barlows 
Peak held back the water and formed a lake, the old shore 
line of which may be seen here — the river has cut through 
the slide and formed a new channel in the silt of the old 
lake bed; Heart Lake and Mt. Sheridan as seen from the 


top of Overlook Mountain looking west; looking across 
Heart Lake from the outlet; scene taken from the side 
of Mt. Sheridan looking east across Heart Lake; picture of 
Mount Sheridan; a stream born among the snows on Mount 
Sheridan; the bowl shaped crater on Mt. Sheridan with side 
worn away; another view of this crater; picture of two old 
craters shown on Mt. Sheridan; scene taken from Overlook 
Mountain looking east and showing south fingers of Yellow- 
stone lake. Original manuscript telling the story of a portion 
of the Yellowstone Park, seldom visited, and but little known. 
In Mythology, the Plains Indians held to be their Happy 
Hunting Grounds where miracles are wrought; where win- 
ter's snow, extreme cold, desolation and lack of animal life is 
exceeded in contrast with other places by its delightful 
summer climate, wonderful landscape beauty, and great 
abundance of wild animal life. 

Trone, J. W. — One French street car transfer from Bordeaux, France, 
1918. One Division United States Army shoulder ensignia. 
One Advanced Section Service of Supply embroidered with 
the Lorraine Cross. 

Dodson, Eugene — A newspaper clipping, "Reno Battle Site Marker 
Promised, Leavitt assured of U. S. Funds to Erect Monu- 
ment/' A petrified fish, chip, bone, and plant, a rock 
and a bullet. These relics were found on the top of Reno 

Dickinson, Charles F. — The following Evanston newspapers: 1 copy 
The Evanston Age, Vol. 1, No. 66, Published in Evanston, 
Wyoming Territory, Dec. 2, 1876; 1 copy, The Wyoming 
Press, Vol. Ill, No. 22, Mar. 11, 1899; 1 copy, The News- 
Register, Vol. XVIII, No. 26, Dec. 30, 1905; 1 copy, The 
Wyoming Press, Vol. XVII, No. 24, Feb. 12, 1921. 

The Evanston Age carries a tabulated list of the 
votes polled in Evanston, and in Uinta County (kept sep- 
arately) for the years of 1870 to 1876 inclusive: The 
assessment, the amount of tax levied and the number of 
mills on the dollar is given for the same years in tabu- 
lated form and kept separately but the special school tax 
levy is not given. Taxes ranged from 10 m. to 23 m. This 
is the official report of Alfred G. Lee, County Clerk. One 
card issued to Samuel Dickey of Evanston, for admis- 
sion to United States Senate, date March 2, 1897, 
signed, C. D. Clark, United States Senator. Requisi- 
tions issued by Governor John W. Hoyt on the Governor 
of Colorado and on the Governor of Utah, for the 
return of criminals, dates July 18, 1881, August 5, 1881, 
January 27, 1882, January 30, 1882. Prisoners ordered 
to be turned over to Samuel Dickey as Agent for Wyo- 
ming Territory. One Bench Warrant — crimes, murder 
and embezzlement. Early group picture of F. M. Foote, 
Jesse Knight and Samuel Dickey. Picture of Attorney 
Tonn; of Mrs. Tonn; of Jesse Knight, Clerk of Court; 
of Dr. Reed of Rock Springs; of old City Hall in Evans- 
ton. The above are early day pictures. 

Preston, Mrs. D. A.— The Douglas A. Preston collection. Consists 
of 12 maps and many historical notes and a photo of the 


Shade Large double log cabin. Map No. 1 is dated 1803 
and is done with colored pencil. Colors used are purple, 
orange, yellow and black. The key is purple for Louisiana 
Purchase, orange for Oregon Country, yellow indicates Tex- 
as Annexation, and black for Mexican Cession. Map No. 2 
is dated 1854 and colors employed are blue, orange and 
yellow. In this map the territory indicated by yellow and 
purple on map No. 1 is now shown as all yellow and the 
black for the Mexican Cession has become blue to desig- 
nate the Utah Territory. The orange Ty remains un- 
changed. Map No. 3 cuts the yellow Ty in two and shows 
the north part as green and means Dakota Territory, date 
1861. Blue and orange unchanged. Map No. 4 is also 1861 
but the blue and orange has shrunken and been absorbed 
by the yellow. Map No. 5 is dated 1863 and shows all of 
what is now Wyoming to be of one color except a small 
area in the extreme southwest corner which is under the 
jurisdiction of Utah. Map No. 6 is dated 1864 and shows 
Utah possessions unchanged but the strip of country ex- 
tending on north to the present Montana line and to the 
eastern boundary of the Yellowstone Park belongs to Idaho. 
Map No. 7 is dated December, 1867 and makes no change 
in the boundary lines of Map No. 6 but shows Dakota was 
divided such of her territory as is now Wyoming into two 
counties, Laramie and Carter. Map No. 8 is dated January, 
1869. No change in boundaries of territory but the coun- 
ties of Laramie and Carter have been split and we have the 
four counties — Laramie, Albany, Carbon, and Sweetwater 
and they extend from north to south across the Territory. 
Map No. 9 is dated July 25, 1868. New Territory of Wyo- 
ming created. The strip on the west which belonged to 
Idaho and Utah are made a part of the new Territory of 
W T yoming and becomes Uinta County and extends the entire 
width of the state. There are now five counties. Map 
No. 10, same counties — treats of county seats. Map No. 11 
is dated 1889 and Statehood. Eleven counties shown. Map 
No. 12, as now, shows twenty-three counties. Mr. Preston 
used for purposes of uniformity the black and white rail- 
road maps which were published by authority of the Wyo- 
ming Public Service Commission. All maps are done in 
colors, and boundary lines are true to longitude and lati- 
tude. A color key is placed at the bottom of each map. 
Dates and explanatory notes are written on the margins. 
A set of cards numbered to correspond with the maps gives 
much history in brief. Shade Large's double log cabin on 
Green River — across the river is the grave of Mary Ann 
Large, who was the sister of Basil of the bird-woman, of 
the Lewis and Clark Expedition. She was a good soul. 
Every night when the herders came in tired and cold she 
took their boots or shoes and dried them soft for the next 
day. She died of dropsy. (This information is written on 
the back of the Shade Large picture by Mr. Preston.) 

Hooker, W. F. — An article on the old Oregon Trail, written by Mr. 
Hooker and published in the Milwaukee Journal, April 27, 
1930. "Settlement of the West started one hundred years 
ago when the first wagon train blazed the old Oregon Trail, 
over which 300,000 persons were to pass in the next thirty 


years." A colored picture of a Covered Wagon Train printed 
in this same newspaper. 

Lovejoy, Fred — Picture of Mr. John Huff, who resided at Atlantic 
City, Wyo., in 1867, and of Mr. Fred Lovejoy. 

Waltman, Mrs. E. E. — Original manuscript written by Mrs. Walt- 
man entitled "Wyoming Birds." 

Kendall, R. J. — An old rifle found on the Pole Mountain Reserve. A 
military marker used on the harness of pack teams. 

Griffith, J. B. — Blueprint of a small part of Captain Raynold's map 
of 1859. Copy of "Memoirs of a Pioneer — Geo. Lathrop." 

Snow, Mrs. W. C. — A manuscript on the Life and Public Services 
of General C. F. Manderson. 

Fryxell, Prof. F. M. — Two books: "History of the Mormons" by 
Lieut. J. W. Gunnison and "Exploration of the Red River 
of Louisiana in the year 1852" by Randolph B. Marcy. 

Glafcke, E. W. — Report on the Results of Spirit Leveling in Wyo- 
ming, 1896 to 1912, inc., Dept. of the Interior, U. S. Geolog- 
ical Survey, Bulletin 558. 

Auerbach, Herbert — Pamphlet "Exhibition of Relics of the Prophet 
Joseph Smith," during L. D. S. Centennial, April 5 to 12, 

D. A. R. — Fort McKinney Chapter, Buffalo, Wyo. — Original manu- 
scripts: "Obituary of T. J. Foster," "Mary M. Parmelee 
and Captain J. H. Manley," "Mr. C. H. Parmelee." 

D. A. R. — Cheyenne, Wyo. — Programs for the following years: 1921, 
1922, 1926, 1927, 1928-1929, 1929-1930. 

Bowen, Mrs. Edwin LeRoy — Historical and genealogical chart of 
Robert Brooke (1602-1655) of Maryland and his wife, Mary 

Durbin, Thomas F. — One ledger and one journal — books kept by the 
Durbin Bros, while they were in the meat business in Chey- 
enne. Date, 1881. One picture of the California Meat Market, 
owned and operated by Helphenstine and Durbin in Chey- 
enne in 1874 or 1875. One picture of the Helphenstine and 
Durbin Meat Market taken in 1874. One copy of the 
Merchants Memorandum Book and Buyers guide to Chey- 
enne, dated 1882. Seven early day pictures of Durbin cattle 
taken in the region of the Crow Indian Reservation in 
Montana, dated 1893. One picture of the Methodist Church 
in Cheyenne, dated 1899. List of officers and members of 
Cheyenne Lodge No. 1, A. F. & A. M., July 1, 1907. Two 
pictures of the Office of the Live Stock Board, dated 1906. 
Two pictures of the Live Stock Board, dated 1910. One Wyo- 
ming Commandery No. 1, Knights Templar By-Laws and 
Directory, 1914. One souvenir the Grand Lodge of Ancient, 
Free and Accepted Masons of Wyoming, Golden Jubilee, 
1874-1924. One picture of George and Mother Durbin taken 
in front of their house at 2016 House, Cheyenne, Wyoming, 
no date. 

JVtmals nf P^nming 



No. 2 \ 


Life of Oscar Collister By Himself 

Journals of Travel of Will H. Young. 

The Forgotten Battalion By William Murphy 


Published Quarterly 

by the 


Mrs. Cyrus Beard, Historian 


JVtmals nf pignrntirg 

Vol.7 OCTOBER 1930 No. 2 


Life of Oscar Collister By Himself 

Journals of Travel of Will H. Young. 

The Forgotten Battalion By William Murphy 


Published Quarterly 

by the 


Mrs. Cyrus Beard, Historian 



Governor Frank C. Emerson 

Secretary of State A. M. Clark 

State Librarian Mrs. Clare E. Ausherman 

Secretary of Board Mrs. Cyrus Beard 


Judge E. H. Fourt Lander 

Dr. Grace R. Hebard Laramie 

Mrs. C. L. Vandevender Basin 

Mr. C. F. Maurer Douglas 

Mr. Phillip E. Winter Casper 

Mrs. R. A. Ferguson Wheatland 

Mrs. M. M. Parmelee Buffalo 

Miss Spaeth Gillette 

Mrs. P. J. Quealy Kemmerer 

Neither the State Historical Board, the State Historical Advisory Board nor the 
State Historian is responsible for any statements made or opinions expressed by 
contributors to the Annals of Wyoming. 

(Copyright 1930 by State of Wyoming) 


Session Laws 1921 


Section 6. It shall be the duty of the State His- 
torian : 

(a) To collect books, maps, charts, documents, man- 
uscripts, other papers and any obtainable material illus- 
trative of the history of the State. 

(b) To procure from pioneers narratives of any ex- 
ploits, perils and adventures. 

(c) To collect and compile data of the events which 
mark the progress of Wyoming from its earliest day to 
the present time, including the records of all of the 
Wyoming men and women, who served in the World War 
and the history of all war activities in the State. 

(d) To procure facts and statements relative to the 
history, progress and decay of the Indian tribes and other 
early inhabitants within the State. 

(e) To collect by solicitation or purchase fossils, 
specimens, of ores and minerals, objects of curiosity con- 
nected with the history of the State and all such books, 
maps, writings, charts and other material as will tend to 
facilitate historical, scientific and antiquarian research. 

(f ) To file and carefully preserve in his office in 
the Capitol at Cheyenne, all of the historical data col- 
lected or obtained by him, so arranged and classified as 
to be not only available for the purpose of compiling and 
publishing a History of Wyoming, but also that it may be 
readily accessible for the purpose of disseminating such 
historical or biographical information as may be reason- 
ably requested by the public. He shall also bind, cata- 
logue and carefully preserve all unbound books, manu- 
scripts, pamphlets, and especially newspaper files contain- 
ing legal notices which may be donated to the State His- 
torical Board. 

(g) To prepare for publication a biennial report of 
the collections and other matters relating to the transac- 
tion of the Board as may be useful to the public. 

(h) To travel from place to place, as the require- 
ments of the work may dictate, and to take such steps, 
not inconsistent with the provisions of this Act, as may be 
required to obtain the data necessary to the carrying out 
of the purpose and objects herein set forth. 

^rntals nf pignmmg 

Vol. 7 OCTOBER, 1930 No. 2 




(Continued from July Number) 

In a small cotton-wood and box-elder grove on Deer 
Creek was enacted an interesting ceremony. A young 
Sioux squaw passed away in a small temporary camp, and 
her remains were disposed of according to custom. The 
Indians would never bury a body if it could be disposed of 
by putting it on a scaffold in a tree. Accordingly this body 
was wrapped in blankets and robes, and placed on a scaf- 
fold which was made in a cotton-wood tree. All the orna- 
ments she cherished were wrapped up with her. In a day 
or two a young warrior led a fine pony under the scaffold 
stepped back and fired an arrow into the pony's heart, 
killing it instantly. The spirit of the pony was the avail- 
able conveyance for the spirit of the squaw to ride to her 
destination, the "Happy Hunting Ground," which was sup- 
posed to be "many sleeps away," according to their method 
of gauging distance. 

Early in April in 1862, the operator at the Three Cross- 
ings of the Sweetwater called Deer Creek, and announced 
that their (the Three Crossing's) horses had been turned 
out to graze and had been stampeded by a band of Indians, 
and taken away. 

Captain Love went immediately to Bisonette for in- 
formation as to the probable route the Indians might take 
to get back to their own territory. He learned that the 
most probable route would be by way of Powder River. 
The Commissary Sergeant was instructed to prepare for a 
march. The bugle sounded boots and saddles, and all but 
three or four men were detailed for action. The excite- 
ment was too much for me. I asked the Captain if he was 
willing I should go with them. His answer was, "Yes, but 
put on this and take your place in the ranks." The thing 
offered me was a sabre which I gladly and proudly accepted. 
I was unable to communicate with the general office to 
obtain permission to leave, but arranged with the next 


operators both east and west to look after my section 
in case of wire trouble and I took my place in the ranks. 

We had two efficient guides and it took us two days 
to reach the place where the trail which the Indians were 
believed to have taken intersected the one the troops were 
following, but found no sign of them. We loitered along, 
taking our time and returning by another route. We were 
out eight days, but failed to find either Indians or horses, 
and I learned that I had not even been missed when I met 
the assistant superintendent about a month later. 

In the summer of 1863 a man named Bozeman, accomp- 
anied by an old time mountaineer and guide, whose name 
I have forgotten, arrived at Deer Creek from Montana, hav- 
ing staked out a trail from the town of Bozeman to Deer 
Creek along the east slope of the Rocky Mountains; one 
that would shorten the distance of the then existing route 
to Montana from points east of the Missouri River. 

They established a camp and started in to divert emi- 
grants destined to Montana. They were not long in gather- 
ing a sufficient number of wagons to make a good sized 
party, and started out to establish the new trail, going 
directly down the old trader's trail to Powder River, thence 
to Lodge-pole Creek. Here they awoke one morning to 
find themselves surrounded by Indians and their route 
blocked. No hostile demonstrations were made, or calls 
for a pow-pow to explain. This condition continued for sev- 
eral days. Finally two men volunteered to make a trip 
back to Deer Creek to report to the military officers and 
get an escort. They studied the situation for two or three 
nights, always watching for a chance to escape, before 
they found an opening that they considered safe. They suc- 
ceeded in getting out unmolested and came through all 

Lodgepole Creek was about a hundred and fifty miles 
from Deer Creek, so these men had no little journey to 
make in order to report this predicament. The situation 
was reported to Fort Laramie, and a company of sixty 
cavalrymen were immediately started for the scene of the 
trouble, with orders to take them through to Montana, 
but the night they crossed the North Platte, a telegram 
came cancelling the order to escort them to Montana, and 
instead, instructing that they be escorted back to the old 
Mormon trail at any point they might choose east of the 
South Pass. The last order was obeyed and the party was 
next heard from at South Pass. One of the party of emi- 
grants, having lost one of his horses, by death, was obliged 
to abandon the trip. As he had formed a favorable opinion 


of me while camping at Deer Creek during the formation 
of the Bozeman party, returned to Deer Creek and took up 
his abode with me for the winter, devoting his time to trap- 
ping beaver and coyotes, which proved a financial success. 

With the setting in of a very severe winter and a lim- 
ited activity among the traders, and only about a dozen 
soldiers commanded by a sergeant, life in Deer Creek be- 
came very monotonous. Not being able to cook, I was com- 
pelled to board with parties who had squaw wives, and 
somehow I failed to appreciate their abilities in the culinary 
line. I did not complain but I quietly counted the days still 
to be endured, before I could hit the trail again for the 
still farther west. 

Spring came at last and with it came a visit from the 
assistant superintendent. At my request he consented to 
wire the California State Telegraph Company, recommend- 
ing me and stating that I was honorably released by the 
Western Union Telegraph Company. 

I was approached one day by a friend with this state- 
ment, half question and half assertion. "They tell me there 
is no such thing as sentiment or romance existing among 
the Indians," whereupon the following story was reluctant- 
ly related by me. 

The stolid, undemonstrative appearance of the Indian 
is not entirely due to their lack of humanity, but largely 
to habit and strict cultivation of indifference to emotions; 
the same with the squaws as with the men. 

It was an almost daily occurrence for squaws with or 
without papooses on their backs to come to the barracks, 
particularly where the telegraph instrument was located, 
to stand around an hour or two chattering among them- 
selves, and watching closely the movements of all about 
the place. The soldiers would sometimes attempt a flirta- 
tion but without any response. On perpetual observation 
I learned that there was a sentiment covered up by modesty, 
or habit, and that attachments were possible without ex- 
posing the fact. 

This first appeared to me in a business transaction. 
A sergeant wrote me from Fort Laramie to procure for him 
a pair of white buckskin moccasins with three initials in 
various colored beads on the instep, and sent a full skein of 
each color of beads to be used. I took them to a French- 
man's squaw to do the work, and soon afterward received 
the finished article, artistically done, and most of the beads 
were returned with the moccasins. As the beads were, 
although expensive, no use to either the sergeant or my- 
self, I gave them back to the squaw. Imagine my surprise, 


when a few days later the Frenchman presented me with 
a duplicate of the first pair of moccasins. He refused to 
take any pay, and assured me that it would deeply wound 
his squaw if I offered to pay her, because she had adopted 
me as her brother. The gift of the beads on my part and 
of the moccasins on her part made the ceremony of adop- 
tion complete, according to the Indian custom, and as the 
ratification was complete, I accepted the situation. 

A few months after this a small party of Indians 
pitched their tents at Deer Creek, and were not long de- 
layed in making their tour of inspection of the barracks. 
One of the squaws, young, and not so bashful and indiffer- 
ent as the others, and also much superior in looks in appear- 
ance, was immediately attracted by the telegraph instru- 
ment and manifested her awe and wonder when she found 
out what it was used for. She made a regular visit every 
day, always accompanied by her chaperone, and as she had 
a very limited knowledge of the English language, be- 
came quite an interesting and amusing variation from the 
usual show. She soon gave me to understand that she was 
a relative of my adopted sister which gave her unusual 
familiarity — a very plausible foundation. 

We were never together except out in the open 
observation of all those about the barracks. She was soon 
known as my Juanita. She gave her name as "Bright Star" 
in "white man talk." It was a popular custom among the 
Indians when a child was born to open the wigwam and let 
the mother look out for inspiration in choosing a name for 
the child, and the first appropriate object seen was selected. 
Hence in the case of Bright Star, the morning or evening 
star on duty at the time of her birth was the probable 
source of her name. 

When their time to move on came, I received a short 
but unexpected visit from Brigh.t Star. Early in the morn- 
ing while the roll call was occupying everyone but the 
captain and myself, both being still in our bunks, Bright 
Star and her chaperone came in at the door and came 
straight to my bunk. I was awake and they told me this 
was a "good-bye visit." I was quietly asked if I wanted 
Bright Star for my squaw, and when to shorten an em- 
barrassing situation I used one of the common terms of 
the country, "When the grass is green," I was immediately 
caught around the neck and kissed, and my visitors escaped 
through the door just as the lieutenant, returning from 
roll call entered. Fortunately for my peace of mind, neither 
the captain or the lieutenant had witnessed the last act 
of the good-bye visit, or I never would have heard the last 


of it. The next and last meeting of Bright Star and myself 
was a still greater surprise and revelation of an unsuspected 
characteristic of native lore. 

I had received notice that I was soon to be relieved 
as telegraph operator at Deer Creek, and was sitting alone 
in my room meditating on my future, and thinking of the 
years that had passed since I had first come to the wilder- 
ness. It was evening and perhaps a little of that loneliness 
for which we cannot account and which so often creeps 
over us when the day is done was with me. The door 
opened and a squaw entered, and in the dim twilight I im- 
mediately recognized her as Bright Star. Walking straight 
to me she took hold of my coat and said, "Come." Blindly 
I followed her, not knowing what to expect. She went 
outside and behind the building, where she stepped out 
into the moonlight, then turning to me she told me in 
solemn and serious tones that she had come to warn me. 

She had had a vision or a dream — it was hard to tell 
which, that my life was in danger, that I would be shot in 
the back by an arrow and she had seen me, Mela Hoska 
Chischela (my name among the Indians), and herself in 
the Happy Hunting Grounds. The medicine man had told 
her that I must go away over the high mountain when the 
sun and moon went to sleep; that war between the whites 
and Indians was on and that an Indian brave who did not 
like Mela Hoska Chischela would kill him. 

She had ridden in from a camp some miles from Deer 
Creek to tell me to go quick, and I would meet her in the 
Happy Hunting Ground after many sleeps. 

Bidding me an affectionate farewell she mounted her 
pony and rode away. Two days later I was on my way to 
Salt Lake to report, and before I reached there the Indian 
War of 1864 to 1868 had commenced. 

But before I leave my story of my experience in and 
around Deer Creek, I wish to say that I think I was the 
first man to tell anyone that there were stores of kerosene 
in the soil there. I had occasion when I came to Deer Creek 
to clean up my cabin, and in doing so I found a lot of bottles, 
empty and partly filled, and among them I found a bottle 
of crude oiL Bisonette had seen accounts in the papers^ 
of coal oil being used in the states for lights, but he did 
not know what it was. I tried to explain to him the best 
I could. He used to come over nearly every evening and 
visit with me for a while before bed time, so this evening 
when he came I got the bottle of crude oil and asked him 
what it was and where it came from. He said it was tar 
and was used to cure sores on horses' backs, such as sad- 


die galls. I told him it was crude oil, and he was greatly- 
surprised and told me that there was a spring on the 
Poison Spring road a little above the Guinard bridge where 
it collected in large pools. The following summer the com- 
pany sent me a ten gallon can of kerosene and a lamp for 
office use. For months I had to exhibit that lamp to the 
Indians who visited Deer Creek. 

After spending two and one-half years as telegraph 
operator at Deer Creek, I went to Salt Lake City, in the 
spring of 1864, but I did not go alone. The telegraph 
operator at the Guinard bridge went with me to Webers 
Canyon, where a position awaited him. His name was 
Solon Willey. He had gone ahead of me to Fort Laramie. 
From there we went to Fort Halleck, and then by stage to 
Salt Lake, he stopping at his destination on the way. I 
did not remain long in Salt Lake, but went to Nevada where 
I spent the next two years. I did not meet Solon Willey 
any more until I was called back to Ohio two years later 
on account of the sickness and death of my mother, then 
I met him in Salt Lake. He had then been promoted. 

On my way from Deer Creek to Fort Laramie when jv 
was leaving for the West, I had an inTeTestmg-experience. 
The Indian war had broken out already at Fremont's Or- 
chard, and I had told a band of Cheyennes who were 
camped five miles west of Deer Creek, and a number of them 
came to me on their way to Fort Laramie, to notify the 
command at the Fort that they were coming on a peace 
visit. They wished me to notify the officers at the Fort 
to this effect, and I did so. 

On the day I left Deer Creek for Fort Laramie, I met 
a party of Sioux half-breeds with their squaws at Little 
Boxelder Creek. The body consisted of several members 
and among them were two of the half-breeds who had laid 
plans to kill me two years before. With me was a soldier 
(a private), whom the sergeant in command at Deer Creek 
had sent along with me, as conditions at that time did not 
warrant anyone traveling alone. After we had crossed the 
stream, I remembered that I had taken a key with me 
through mistake, which I should have left, and turned back 
to ask the half-breeds to take it back to Deer Creek with 
them. When I turned around on the bank of the crek, I saw 
they were signalling me to come back. When I got back to 
them, they asked me if I knew of the settlement at Fre- 
mont Orchard, and I told them I knew all about it. They 
then told me they were hurrying back home because they 
had been told that war parties were coming on that line, 
and in fact were expected that day. They warned me that 


I was in imminent danger in case I met a war party, for the 
soldier would certainly be killed. I probably would be 
spared, but my horse would be taken from me. When I 
went back to the soldier boy I explained the situation to 
him, and advised him to go back, but this he absolutely re- 
fused to do. "I am ordered to see you safely through or 
die in the attempt, and I am not seeking a court martial 
trial," he said. 

As we could settle the question no other way, we went 
en. On the LaBonte hills we passed the band of Chey- 
ennes who had asked me to herald their coming. With 
only a few adventures of minor importance, we arrived 
safely at Fort Laramie, where I found my friend, Solon 
Willey awaiting me, and also my very intimate friend, Jim 
Bridger, the famous old guide of the whole north-west. 
I had no trouble getting out of the region of danger, and 
entered a zone where I enjoyed life very well for two years, 
when I was called east to my mothers bedside. 

You asked me about Joseph Slade, but I do not care 
to discuss him at any length. I cannot say much good of 
him, and I know a great deal about him otherwise. He 
left his headquarters at Horse Shoe one year before I left 
Deer Creek. We clashed once, but when he found out that 
I was not French, he let me alone. I had a partner from 
Pennsylvania, who was a member of the vigilance com- 
mittee that executed Slade in Montana, but my friend 
never disclosed the reason for the execution. Perhaps it 
was many reasons put together, and maybe he had com- 
mitted a crowning sin at that particular time — I never 
knew. Slade was an officer in an organized band of thieves 
and robbers. The vigilance crowd had their muster roll 
and he was a lieutenant. 

When I left Nevada to go to my mother in Ohio, whom 
the message I had received stated was dying with tubercu- 
losis, I had to go fifteen hundred miles by stage to get to 
a railroad. The trip required many weeks of anxiety for 
me, only to meet with heart-ache at the finish. 

I passed through the country which later became Wyo- 
ming, in the spring of 1866. I had just passed through 
here when an armistice was signed with the Indians, but 
war again broke out before I reached home. 

In 1869 I returned to the west and found the Union 
Pacific Railroad was well toward completion, and what I 
had known as Nebraska was reduced by the creation of the 
Territories of Dakota and Wyoming. 

At Sidney, Nebraska, I found a train dispatcher with 
whom I had worked in Painsville, Ohio. He put me to work 


for the railroad, first at Potter, and other stations along 
the line, until my partners arrived from Pittsburg, Pen- 
nsylvania, and then we went to Rock Springs on the train 
and from there to South Pass in a wagon. We had the 
"gold fever" and prospected around South Pass, Miner's 
Delight and Willow Creek, but found it not to be a very 
prosperous layout. My partner, Caldwell, became disgusted 
and returned to Pennsylvania that fall. 

In July, 1870, I went to Green River, and from there 
to Laramie where I was employed as night operator and 
sent to Medicine Bow. After my sojourn in the Bow I was 
transferred to Carbon, where I was day operator and 
assistant agent. I had not been in Carbon long when the 
agent there left the employ of the Union Pacific road, and 
I became his successor. 

In 1871, a young lady, LtOU-JHawley, who was a sister 
to Wm. Hawley, the first sheriff of" "Carbon County to be 
elected by the people, arrived in Carbon, from Illinois, and 
intended making her home with her brother. She looked 
good to me, and I seemed to be equally attractive to her. On 
one occasion Wm. Hawley said in my hearing that his gun 
was loaded for any man who tried to capture her. Miss 
Hawley and I took the dare, and told him to get ready for 
the tragedy, for we were engaged and were ready to take 
the consequences. However, the bloodshed was not great, 
and as "love laughs at locksmiths" we were married on No- 
vember 26, 1871, at Rawlins, and went immediately back to 
Carbon where we made our home. My wife is twelve years 
my junior, but nevertheless we have been happy together all 
these 58 years. Similar to other lives, ours has been filled 
with clouds and sunshine, joys and sorrows, but the con- 
solation we have always found in each other, has tided 
us over the rapids, and now that we are on the sunset 
side, our presence to each other means all. 

I acted as agent at Carbon until 1874, when I was 
made superintendent of the mines there, which position 
I held until I quit the Union Pacific altogether. 

I served one term as Supervisor of Carbon County, 
and was County Commissioner until 1876. 

As the election approached in 1876 I was urged to 
run for the Territorial Council. I did not want it, but I 
saw that the office was going to be forced upon me if 
I did not beat off the nomination, so when the delegates 
to the convention were chosen I let them name me as one 
of the delegates, and the night before the convention I 
took one of my stationary engineers aside and told him 
my proxy was ready for him, for I wanted him to go to 


the convention and vote in my place. I told him I de- 
pended upon him to see that I was not nominated for the 
Council, for I would not accept the nomination if given me, 
and for him to tell the convention that I had reasons they 
could not overcome for doing this. 

I thought I was doing the proper thing, for the Union 
Pacific paid 90% of the taxes in the state and they ought 
not allow their employes to hold such an office as legis- 
lative positions. I won out, and I never regretted an act 
as greatly as I did that one before I was through with it. 

The day after the convention the man who represented 
me there, came into my office to ask for something needed 
in his work. D. 0. Clark, head of the coal department 
was in the office with me at the time. I asked my rep- 
resentative about the convention and was informed that 
he was compelled to give my ultimatum before they would 
give up, and then they had nominated a merchant from 
Rawlins. When the man went out, Clark simply fumed. 
He told me that the General Superintendent Clark had 
asked him about that election, and inquired if I would not 
run for the council, and D. 0. had said that I would run 
and that I would be elected. The superintendent had ans- 
wered that that would be fine and added, "If he needs help, 
give it to him, and if he is elected have a man picked to take 
his place the day after election and send him out to work. 
Collister must go east to study legislation in all states that 
are in the coal mining business, and procure copies of their 
mining laws, and the results of the same. Remember that 
Wyoming has no mining laws and we need some. Let him 
go through until the session is over. His pay goes on here, 
and his wages and expenses go on with him also." 

I knew I had made a mistake, but there was nothing 
to do but await results. I was advised that trouble was 
coming, and I felt within myself that my informant was 
not in error. I was told confidentially that the Chinese 
were to be put in the mines in Rock Springs as soon as 
the blow was struck, but I was asked not to make any 
demonstration until the union men struck, but to have all 
the stations I filled, well supplied with coal. My part was 
carried out to the best of my ability. 

After the strike was over, and without any warning, 
D. O. Clark came to me with the statement that I was to 
turn my position over to a man who had been sent out to 
take the place of warden of the Penitentiary, but for some 
reason was not wanted there. Mr. Clark could tell me 
nothing except that I was to report to Mr. Shanklin, super- 
intendent of that division, as soon as I turned it over. I 


did so and was told to take a fourth class station on the 
road. It took me about half a minute to convince Mr. 
Shanklin that I would do nothing like that. 

I soon fixed up my affairs and stayed around Carbon 
about a month before I left for the west. In Ogden I met 
the traveling auditor of the road, and was advised to go 
back, as I was mistaken for I was registered as a first class 
agent, and the place offered me by Shanklin was merely 
to hold me until some other first class office was ready 
for me, as there are only five first class stations on the 
load. To my later regrets, I did not take his advice, for 
when I went to see Mr. Musgrove whom I had known on 
the Union Pacific, he too told me I was wrong, and that the 
auditor who advised me in Ogden was right. I have seen 
the Union Pacific but once since that, and that was when 
I visited Mrs. J. S. Jones in Denver, twenty years ago, and 
at that time Carbon was wiped off the map. 

Now to return to my family history. The results of 
my marriage to Lou Hawley was three sons, Tom and Stan- 
ley being born in Carbon, and Howard, the youngest, in 
Portland, Oregon. The eldest son, Tom, was killed in a 
train wreck, and the youngest, Howard, died of typhoid 
fever. Stanley is at home in Santa Rosa, California. He 
is the father of two girls. One of his daughters is in turn 
the mother of four daughters, and all live in Chico, Cal- 
ifornia, where her husband is professor of the State Teach- 
ers College of California. Stanley's youngest daughter is 
attending the University of California and preparing her- 
self for a teacher. 

My wife and I have a very comfortable little home in 
Santa Rosa, California, and although her eyesight is gone, 
we feel that we have other blessings bestowed upon us, 
as hand in hand we go on down to the end of the trail. 


(Contributed by Mrs. Dwight E. Aultman, wife of the late com- 
manding officer at Ft. Russell, now Ft. Francis E. Warren.) 

(At that time Mr. Young was a lad of 19 or 20. He came out 
from his home in Missouri and spent a year as clerk in the store of 
the Post Trader, Mr. Ward, at Fort Laramie. The journal from which 
these extracts are taken covers half of that year.) 

April 22. Arrived at Nebraska City. 

April 27. The Calypso landed this morning with the 

Ward goods. 


May 1. Began loading the train today and filled four 
wagons, putting about 5,150 pounds in each. Weather 

May 2. Occupation same as yesterday. Loaded eight 
wagons. Weather cool. 

May 3. Loaded eight more wagons. Weather good. 

May 4. Very warm today. Still loading and finished 
by noon, making 24 wagons in the train. Now for a little 
work copying the freight in the "train book" and getting 
everything ready generally. Will start in a day or two. 

May 5. Today has been rainy and I have been copying 
and comparing. From the amount of nuts, peaches, wines 
and all other good things sent out, I think the inner man 
will enjoy himself very well out at Laramie. 

May 8. Busy all this morning "hitching up." The 
Mexican is pretty sure with the lasso. Started the train at 
noon. Quite a long string of wagons. 

May 9. This morning Mr. Ward and I rode out to the 
train and overtook it at the Nine Mile House, with one 
tongue broken. Soon fixed a new one, and the train moved 
on, all of the mules pulling finely. We left them about 
twelve o'clock and drove home between two fine horses in 
a good buggy. Weather cool and cloudy. 

May 10. Today has been cold enough to freeze — almost. 

May 11. A telegram today says the ambulance leaves 
Julesburg for Laramie every Sunday morning. So I think 
1 shall start Monday. 

May 14. Today is Sunday. I had one of the best kind 
of dinners at Mr. Ward's : oyster soup, beef and ham, two or 
three kinds of bread, eggs, pickles, tomatoes, coffee, good 
genuine milk, butter, well made, oyster pie, unfermented 
pie, pineapple and juice, peaches with abundance of splendid 
cream and other good things. 

^ Fort Kearney, N. T. 

May 17. Started from Nebraska City Monday morn- 
ing, May 15th. Good road, all prairie country. Traveled at 
tolerable speed. On Monday night we had a very hard 
storm. The rain poured in torrents, drenching almost every- 
thing. In censequence of the storm one of the stages laid 
over, putting us behind six hours. Yesterday, the 16th, was 
a pleasant day, the roads dried up and we traveled finely. 
Saw a few antelope on the roadside, too far off to shoot with 
pistols. Passed through a town of prairie dogs, but being 
asleep at the time and having the curtains of the stage 
drawn, I did not see them. Last night arrived here about 
ten o'clock without accident. Slept on the floor with my 


blanket for a covering, and satchel for a pillow. Now wait- 
ing for the stage. 

May 17. Left Fort Kearney in the coach about 4 P. M. 

May 18. Still lumbering along in the coach. Dined at 
Cottonwood Station. 

May 19. Julesburg. Arrived here about noon and will 
have to stay till Sunday. I think if I had to remain longer 
I should starve. Nobody to cook anything but soldiers. The 
provisions in the sutler's store are barely palatable. This 
magnificent city has one log house and two "dobies." Sol- 
diers' tents scattered all around. 

May 20. Saturday. Very pleasant out of doors. Last 
night slept out in wagon. Rested very well, though got cool 
about day. 

May 21. Sunday. Slept in the wagon again last night. 
Indians made lots of noise. Started for Laramie five o'clock. 
Got across the Platte in an hour and a half. Now 7 o'clock 
and getting supper in camp. I'm the only passenger. All 
the rest soldiers. 

May 22. Have traveled about 35 miles today and am 
now camping on Pole Creek. 

May 23. At noon today arrived here "Mud Springs," 
28 miles from Pole Creek. Some anxiety felt among the 
soldiers caused by the fright of the mules and horses in the 
night, but all arose this morning still in possession of our 
scalps. Living on hard tack and hard coffee. 

May 24. Made 40 miles today. Passed Court House 
and Chimney Rocks. Now camping on the banks of the 
North Platte in an old log house with dirt roof. 

May 25. Fort Laramie. Arrived here about 2 o'clock 
A. M. As we came in sight two Indian chiefs were seen 
dangling in the air. Two Face and Black Foot, expiating 
their crimes, which have been too numerous and filled with 
treachery. All the Indians near the garrison are now in bad 
humor and persons are rather careful about going too far 
from the protection of the fort. 

June 1. Busy today taking inventory of the stock in 
the store. 

June 4. Sunday. At 2 o'clock I, with the other offi- 
cers, went to a dog feast and ate some dog, oysters, fresh 
peaches and drank some coffee. I could not tell the taste of 
dog from any other kind of meat; it was quite a delicacy, 
though I should not care to make a regular thing of such 

June 11. Had some splendid ice cream for dinner to- 
day. All the Indians were started for Julesburg today. 


June 14. News this evening of the Indians revolting 
at Horse Creek, killing Capt. Fouts and making their escape 
across the Platte, created a little excitement in the garrison. 
Col. Moonlight with a force of about 80 men started in 

June 16. Much speculation about the revolt — no news. 

June 18. Sunday. Our train is in and camping tonight 
at the Bridge. Will be busy now for a few days. 

June 19. The train drove in this morning and business 
has been the word all day. 

June 20. Exceedingly busy all day and until 11 o'clock 
tonight, opening and marking goods. Had for dinner today, 
oysters, cream and peaches, champagne wine, besides sub- 

June 23. We opened the store this afternoon and had 
an exceeding rush of business. 

June 28. Unusual weather for this time of year. Fire 
feels quite comfortable. 

July 1. Gen. Connor arrived today and all his staff, a 
good deal of style displayed. The brass band is now sere- 
nading the General and the newly married couple. A mar- 
riage in the garrison is of infrequent occurrence. 

July 2. Had a "big" dinner today; oysters, wine, 
strawberries, ice cream and sponge cake were the most im- 
portant things. Very warm. 

July 3. Business has been pressing. Cash sales $1,000. 

Julv 4. Store closed at noon. A salute was fired at 12 
by Capt. O'Brien. 

July 6. Gen. Henry arrived today and a salute was 
fired in his honor. 

July 8. A man named Simpson was drummed out of 
service today to the time of Rogue's March. 

July 16. The paymaster arrived today, so now, I sup- 
pose, the soldiers will have plenty of money. 

July 18. Gen. Henry started for his battery in Rich- 
mond today. Went to the Laramie Minstrels last night. 

July 30. Last night the Kansas troops mutinied, being 
camped about a mile from the garrison. 

Aug. 6. Now nearly all of the soldiers are gone. 

Aug. 17. Business dull. The weather has been ex- 
ceedingly warm, reaching 100° today. 

Aug. 30. Today Maj. Gen. Dodge arrived here, the 
first major general who ever honored Laramie with a visit. 
Salutes were fired and an extra dinner at the House on the 

Sept. 2. Gen. Dodge left for Powder River today. Busi- 
ness yesterday and today exceedingly brisk. 


Sept. 5. The train arrived today and tonight we are 
very busy opening goods. 

Sept. 9. Maj. I. L. Mackay started home this morning 
after having been absent from his family four years. He 
had long been anxious to leave this part of the country. 

Sept. 20. On Sunday, the 17th, I had the pleasure of 
attending another dog feast where I met Maj. Gen. Dodge, 
Brev. Maj. Gen. Wheaton, Gen. Williams, two or three ma- 
jors, and a host of captains and lesser lights. The dog was 
good, besides many other delicacies. 

Sept. 24. Sunday. Warm. Went fishing. No luck. 

Sept. 29. Gen. Connor returned today from his Powder 
River expedition. Reports about 1,000 horses frozen to 
death during a severe storm. 

Oct. 7. All week soldiers have been returning from the 
Powder River expedition and business has been quite brisk. 
General Connor, his wife and staff, started for Salt Lake 
City today. 

Oct. 11. Today has been cold and tonight we sit by a 
snug fire, listening to old Maj. Bridger's gold stories and 
we all conclude to go with him to the gold regions next 

Oct. 15. The Indian Ribbs arrived about 10 o'clock 
and now arrangements will be made for sending out for the 
Sioux and making a treaty. 

Oct. 19. Big Ribbs started on his Indian misison today 
gorgeously arrayed in fine clothes and brass buttons. We 
had cabbages and potatoes for dinner today. Potatoes at 
$15 a bushel and cabbage at 50c per pound, i. e. four and 
five dollars per head. 

Nov. 9. Gen. Wheaton left today for his headquarters 
in Omaha. 

Nov. 14. Today Col. Magruder arrested about 30 bull- 
whackers for mutiny, refusing to go any further with the 
Huron Mining Co. of Montana. 

Nov. 29. For 20 hours the wind has blown a hurricane. 
Everything is covered with dust. 

Dec. 7. Thanksgiving Day. Went skating. 

Dec. 9. Wind and sand almost intolerable. 

Dec. 12. 22 below zero at 8 a. m. 

Dec. 13. 29 below zero at 8 a. m. 

Dec. 15. A difference of 40° between yesterday and 
today. We had a good time in our room tonight. Maj. 
Bridger and Gunn created lots of fun with Indian dances. 



(Being a short chronicle of some of the hardships and conditions 
endured by Indian war veterans in the Phil Kearney massacre of 
December 21st, 1866, and the Wagon Box Fight of August 2, 1867, 
as chronicled by William Murphy.) 

I will give my experiences from the time I left Fort 
Leavenworth, Kansas, April 7, 1866. We marched to Fort 
Kearney, Nebraska, arriving there May 15, having marched 
every day, Sunday included. We passed or were passed by 
all kinds of rigs going in both directions, but mostly immi- 
grants and bull trains. The immigrants were passing the 
finest kind of land for farming purposes, but one could 
travel without seeing a settler's house anywhere after the 
second day out. Buffalo and antelope were plentiful. 

On arriving at Fort Kearney, we were issued two days' 
rations consisting chiefly of seven hardtack. Each hard- 
tack was about four inches square and three-eighths of an 
inch thick. The balance of the rations were in the same 
proportion. The explanation given us was that the quar- 
termaster in charge of the stores of rations had run short. 
A hungry man could have eaten the entire two rations at 
one meal and asked for more. 

On May 18th I was assigned to Company A, Second 
Battalion, 18th U. S. Infantry. We left Kearney the 19th 
and marched to Julesburg, where we built a scow to ferry 
across the South Platte River, which was running bank full. 
On trying out the scow, we found it would not work owing 
to the quick-sands and shallows. In places the water would 
be only two or three inches deep while a few feet away 
there would be seven or eight feet of water. Two of our 
men got caught in the quick-sands and were drowned. We 
finally crossed by having a long rope stretched from man 
to man, strapping our guns and equipment to our backs 
and holding to the rope. Some of the men were up to their 
arm pits in water and some traveled nearly dry shod. We 
were ordered not to stop for anything, for if we did we 
would get stuck in the quick-sand. 

Nothing more of an exciting nature happened until we 
passed through Scott's Bluffs. There an eight-yoke bull- 
team stampeded with two wagons loade,d with parts and 
equipment for a saw-mill, and ran down a steep hill to the 
North Platte. I do not believe any of the steers were alive 
when they got to the bottom of the hill. This saw-mill was 
intended for Fort Phil Kearney and arrived a month or six 
weeks later. This of course delayed us some in building 
the fort. 


At this time, at Fort Laramie, army officers and Red 
Cloud and his warriors held a council but came to no agree- 
ment. The report that we men got was that Red Cloud had 
issued an ultimatum to the officers that he would kill every 
white man that crossed the North Platte. At that time 
there were Indians — Sioux, Cheyennes and Arapahoes — 
camping for a mile or two along the North Platte and Lara- 
mie Rivers and the Government was feeding them — at least 
to the point of giving them beef steers to kill. They ate 
them all but the hides, hoofs and horns without washing. 
At that time we were shown samples of their marksman- 
ship with the bow and arrow. The young boys could hit a 
button, pencil or any small article at about thirty yards. 

After the council, we left Fort Laramie, crossed the 
North Platte at Bridger's Ferry, and after that we had a 
picket line outside of the guards. We kept this up till we 
built the stockade at Phil Kearney. The order of the day 
was in putting a guard to work building the stockade and 
our barracks then went on picket at night. Every other 
trick had one night in. 

We arrived at Fort Reno about the first of July and 
that afternoon while the stock were grazing near camp, 
with some of the mules, being picketed, some hobbled and 
some being herded by a number of the men, a heavy hail 
storm came up with hail stones as large as pullets' eggs. 
Evidently the mules and horses thought it was no fit coun- 
try for them. We had had some trouble about an hour pre- 
viously in getting them to ford the Powder River, but they 
went back over it as though it were dry land. The animals 
that were picketed pulled their pins; the hobbled ones and 
even the stock the herders were riding all stampeded. The 
herders finally stopped their horses two or three miles from 
where they started. A company of cavalry from Fort Reno, 
with the herders, trailed the herd all night and it was over- 
taken at Pumpkin Buttes, some forty-five miles from the 
Fort. We got the stock back the next evening. If there 
had been a few Indians with their spears and buffalo robes, 
they could easily have had a herd of six or seven hundred 
head of horses and mules, and it is extremely doubtful if 
Fort Phil Kearney and Fort C. F. Smith would have been 
built had this happened. 

I was detailed the next day to help load some wagons 
with provisions from the store-rooms at Reno. The ware- 
rooms were built of cottonwood logs, chinked and daubed 
with mud and having dirt roofs. Some of the daubing had 
dropped out and snow had ^rifted in. The dirt roofs also 
leaked and added to the dirty mess. (The soldiers made 


great improvement in that Fort in the summers of 1866 
and 1867.) We loaded up some sacks of bacon. I do not 
know how old it was, but the fat had commenced to sluff 
off from the lean and it was from three to five inches thick. 
There was a lot of flour in the store rooms and the mice had 
tunneled through it and the bacon, evidently for some time. 
Third of July was pay day and we received four months pay. 
There was some bootlegging, but very little drunkenness in 
those days. One method I saw here for punishing drunken- 
ness was on this day, and one of the worst cases of cruelty 
1 saw in the army. At the guard tent four stakes were 
driven into the ground and the drunken soldier was 
stretched at full length and tied to them. This was called 
the "Spread Eagle." The sun was beating down on him 
when Fsaw him, and I thought he was dead. Flies were 
eating him up and were running in and out of his mouth, 
ears and nose. It was reported that he died, but in the 
army one can hear all kinds of reports. I only saw that one 
case, but heard they started the same thing at Fort Reno a 
month or two later and caused a riot or mutiny. The com- 
mander gave the soldier his discharge as a compromise. 

Our next camp was "Crazy Woman" (1) and was 
reached after marching for twenty-eight miles on a very 
hot day with no water except what we carried. The water 
was found to be very bad after we reached the North Platte, 
with the exception of one camp — I believe they called it 
Brown's Springs. (2) Most of the water was impregnated 
with alkali, which had a bad effect on lots of the men. Many 
of the soldiers had bad feet, owing to being forced to wear 
woolen socks in the hot weather, but no other kind was 
issued. Add to this the fact that there was only one ambu- 
lance available for sick soldiers, as the women and children 
had all the others in use, and you have a picture of what it 
meant for a soldier to be sick. 

After crossing Crazy Woman, we found a wide bottom- 
land on the north side and the road entered a long ravine, 
coming out on top of the divide going towards Buffalo Wal- 
low. (3) This was a bad place and the Indians killed sev- 
eral people there during our stay in the country, stripping, 
mutilating and scalping the bodies. They may still be buried 
there, as we dug holes along the side of the road and then 
dropped the bodies in, covering them with rocks when pos- 
sible to keep the wolves and wolverines from digging them 

(1) Crazy Woman — a tributary of Powder River. 

(2) Brown's Springs — Some 40 or 50 miles northwest of old Fort Fetterman. 

(3) Buffalo Wallow — About 12 miles north of where the B'ozeman Trail crossed 
Crazy Woman and a short distance off the road on the right hand side going north. 


up. Sometimes an Indian would dig up the body and drag 
it down the road. 

The next bad place was Buffalo Wallow. Several were 
killed there — immigrants, citizens and soldiers. We buried 
them as described above, and at every camp ground from 
C. F. Smith on, there are one or more bodies. Buffalo 
Wallow and Crazy Woman, however, were the two worst 
places between Fort Reno and Fort C. F. Smith. 

We arrived at the forks of the Big and Little Pineys 
the 13th or 14th of July. For some reason they picked 
out a location about seven miles from the timber and from 
five to eight miles from any hay bottom. A Federal Judge 
who had been a judge of one of the territories was with us. 
I believe he had something to do with the selection of the 
location of the Fort, as he and his partner had a bull train. 
There was a man who was surely "on to his job." He was 
a good diplomat. He made love to men, women and children 
and lived at the fort most of the time. His partner ran the 
teams. O 

About the middle of July Phil Kearney was staked out. 
Up to the 17th of July we hactn^t seen an Indian and had 
commenced to think the threat of Red Cloud at Fort Lara- 
mie was just a bluff, but the rest of that summer from 
July 17th, 1866, and continuously thereafter until July 
14th, 1868, he *was on the job. There was hardly a day 
passed at Phil Kearney, up to December 21st, 1866 — the 
date of the massacre — , that we did not see Indians and the 
others at Fort Reno and C. F. Smith had about the same ex- 
perience. The usual order of the day was to make a forced 
march to the relief of some immigrant or freight train. In 
most cases the Indians had taken their toll and gone before 
we arrived. On July 17th the Indians killed an Indian 
trader at Peno Valley, about four miles north of Phil Kear- 
ney. The Indians killed French Pete Gayzous and his five 
men, ransacked his wagons and stripped, scalped and muti- 
lated the men. He was married to a Sioux squaw. She hid 
in the bushes until the soldiers rescued her. She was at the 
fort for about two months and left one night. 

The same day the Indians ran off what we called our 
"dead herd." They were mules and horses that had sore 
necks, sore backs or were crippled. Some were crippled at 
the stampede a few days before. It took several men all 
day to drive them from one camping ground to another 
fifteen to twenty miles away. That day also three men 
were wounded and two killed. One man — John Donovan, of 
my company — was wounded twice, once with a poisoned 
arrow. One of the men received an arrow wound and an- 


other a bullet wound. When the herd stampeded they ran 
across the Pineys and we could scarcely see them for the 
cloud of dust they raised. The mounted men followed until 
nearly dark but only found four dead animals. 

About July 20th, Orderly-Sergeant Lang of my com- 
pany and I bought two fresh cows from an immigrant train. 
No one wanted to work in the kitchen, so I volunteered in 
order to be able to take care of the cows morning and eve- 
ning. It was not known that I had any interest in the cows 
or it might have caused some trouble. We had a first class 
baker in the company who volunteered to do the baking and 
cooking At that time the Government did not furnish 
cooks or bakers. They simply furnished the rations and 
the soldier could cook them himself or eat them raw if he 
saw fit. They furnished no vegetables. We cooked soup, 
bacon and coffee and dished it out to the men in their cups 
and plates — we had no dining room. We boiled everything. 
I believed the bacon would have killed the men if it had not 
been thoroughly boiled. As it was it surely came near to 
it that winter. During the winter of 1866 and 1867 the 
bacon and flour I had seen at Reno was given to us. The 
flour had been hauled sixty-five miles and handled several 
times. The result was that the refuse left by the mice was 
well mixed with the flour and we found a number of dead 
mice in it also. As we couold not get a sieve, we manufac- 
tured one out of a burlap sack by pulling out some of the 
strings and nailing it on a wooden frame. We got most of 
the larger refuse out. The bacon, where the fat had com- 
menced to sluff off from the lean, was yellow with age and 
bitter as quinine. Some of the worst we shaved off, but we 
could not spare too much. One reason why our rations were 
so scanty was that flour was worth $100.00 per sack and 
bacon, coffee and beans proportionately. The companies 
of those times had no quartermaster or commissary ser- 
geants and two or three men would be detailed to go and 
get the rations. They were piled out in a heap and you 
could take them or leave them. 

At this time the Second Battalion of the 18th Infantry 
was divided up by leaving two companies at Fort Reno to 
relieve two volunteer companies. Four companies went 
sixty-five miles north of Reno and built Fort Phil Kearney. 
Two companies went ninety miles farther north and built 
Fort C. F. Smith on the bank of the Big Horn which left 
four companies at Phil Kearney. I was among those left 
at this place. We started in building the Fort Phil Kearney 
stockade, which was six hundred feet by eight hundred 
feet. The logs w T ere set three feet in the ground, projected 


eight feet and were hewed on two sides to a touching sur- 
face. We built quarters for the officers, ware-rooms, sut- 
ler's store, guard house, stockade for the mules and quar- 
ters for the men. There were approximately two hundred 
and fifty men at the Fort, but I could not vouch for the ex- 
act number. I was a member of Company "A" of forty- 
eight men. Company K was the largest and had about 
sixty-five men, if I remember correctly. Some time after 
we established the Ford, Company "C" of the Second U. S. 
Cavalry arrived with some sixty men which made about 



Fort Phil Kearney in 1857, from a sketch made by Bugler and Nicoli of the U. S. 
Cal. Courtesy of Major A. B. Ostrander. 

three hundred all told. Seme reports stated that we had 
a mounted infantry, but that was a mistake They were 
about thirty men who were detailed out of the Infantry 
company at the Fort. 

On December 6, 1866, the wood train was attacked. In 
itself this was nothing unusual, as it was an every day oc- 
currence. Colonel Carrington, with Company "C" of the 
Second Cavalry and some mounted men, went to its relief. 
The Indians retreated and crossed the Pineys and Carring- 
ton followed them and was nearly trapped. This was two 
or three miles north of where the massacre occurred De- 
cember 21st, following. It was at this time that Lieutenant 
Bingham and Sergeant Bowers were killed. Carrington 
himself had charge of the command. Bingham was on the 
skiimish line and was on the right flank with Sergeant 
Bowers and John Donovan. Carrington saw his danger 


and had the recall sounded. That left Lieutenant Bingham, 
Sergeant Bowers and John Donovan cut off by the Indians. 
They dismounted for a short time, but decided that their 
only chance was to run the gauntlet, as their commander 
had retreated to a higher point. Lieutenant Bingham and 
Sergeant Bowers were pulled off their horses by the In- 
dians. John Donovan was armed with a Colt army revolver 
and a single shot Star carbine using a copper cartridge, 
the same as a Spencer carbine. The revolver, he told me, 
was all that saved him when the Indians were on each side 
of him trying to pull him off his horse, for just in the nick 
of time he shot one on each side. He was a bunkie of mine 
and a good man and was a Civil War veteran. We both be- 
longed to the same company — Second Battalion, 18th U. S. 
Infantry. He told me that Bingham was unarmed except 
for a cavalry sabre. 

i The Phil Kearney Massacre, December 21, 1866. 

We had a fine fall, with cool nights, and on this day 
the wood train left as usual, about seven o'clock, to go to 
the timber. As I remember, we mounted guard as usual at 
eight o'clock. I was in the Orderly-Sergeant's office giving 
him the money for the milk when the Orderly gave him the 
order to have Company "A" go to the relief of the wood 
train. They "fell in" in front of our quarters, which was 
the men's northwest quarters of the garrison. The main 
gate was at the north end of the stockade. The road ran 
by the west end of the quarters and passed by the adjutant's 
office and all officers' quarters, to the government store- 
rooms and into the stock corral. The bastion of the stock- 
ade was at least two hundred feet from where the men fell 
in in front of the quarters. I was standing right there and 
saw the men start on a double quick and go up over Sulli- 
van's hill. From the position of the troops, the guard could 
not have heard any command given, for he would have had 
to hear the command through the buildings. Captain Fet- 
terman was the captain of Company "A." Fetterman was 
( at the fort for only a short time, not over fifteen days, from 
my recollection. 

I did not see the mounted men go out. They never 
passed through the main fort, but went out either the east 
or the west side of the stockade where the stock was kept. At 
the noon hour we could hear volleys plainly, and they con- 
tinued for a long period of time. About two or two-thirty, 
Colonel Carrington ordered reinforcements of about forty- 
five men under Captain Tenyck to go out They went at a 
double-quick, or as fast as they could, until they came to 
the crossing of the Big Piney. Cool nights had caused ice 


to form on the edges of the stream, but this stream was 
hard to cross at any time of the year. The men had to re- 
move their shoes and stockings to get across. At that time 
Colonel Carrington's orderly, a man by the name of Sample, 
met the reinforcements and told Captain Tenyck that the 
men were all dead and that the Indians were all over the 
ground where the men had been. Some of the men 
said that this was Sample's second trip out with informa- 
tion. I could not say, as I saw him but once for certain. In 
reply to this, Captain Tenyck said that there were not 
enough Indians in the country to kill the men. He ad- 
vanced along the road with a few men on each side on the 
ridges as skirmishers. When they got to the top of the 
divide which separates the Piney Creeks from the Peno 
Valley, where the men had been stationed, they found that 
the Indians had withdrawn from where they had massacred 
the soldiers and seemed to be rehearsing the battle. They 
were shooting, shouting and charging up and down the hill 
over and over again. I suppose the hill must have been as 
much as a mile away from where the men were massacred. 
Our first thought was that the battle was still going on, 
but a man from my company by the name of McLain who 
had been with the haying party and was familiar with the 
road, said, "There are the men down there, all dead. ,, Sure 
enough There was at that time a large stone that had the 
appearance of having dropped from a great height and 
thereby split open, leaving a space between the pieces men 
could pass through, which made a good protection for a 
small body of men, I should say for about twenty-five or 
thirty. Around this rock was where the main body of the 
men lay. There were just a few down on the side of the 
ridge north of the rock, not more than fifty feet from the 
main body. Along down the ridge, farther north and east, 
we found the bodies of Captain Brown, the two citizens, 
Wheatly and Fisher*, and also a man of my company by the 
name of Baeber. They were scalped, stripped and muti- 
lated. They must have put up a hard fight, as they were 
all armed with breechloading rifles and a lot of empty shells 
lay all around The Indians had given Baeber an extra dose. 
It looked as though they had first stripped him and then 
filled his body with arrows, as they were sticking out of 
him all over like porcupine quills. He had straight black 
hair and looked something like an Indian himself. He had 
passed through the Civil War, as had three-fourths of the 
men that were killed. In some reports of the massacre it 
was stated that the men were ambushed, but looking over 
the ground anyone could see, and can now see, that they had 



a very good position for the arms that were used in those 
days. There was no stampede or ambush. Col. Carrington 
sent two empty wagons and an ambulance, and possibly one 
box of ammunition of one thousand rounds (certainly not 
more than that.) These conveyances were used in bringing 
in the dead. There was not even one load, 20,000 rounds, in 
the three forts. They started out with twenty rounds each 
and undoubtedly used some of this on their detail work be- 
fore the massacre. We had known for a long time that we 
were short of ammunition. 

On the ground around the rocks there were thousands 
of arrows, a lot of which were picked up by our men. 

It was customary, I understood, to have the guards 
have target practice when they came off guard, but our 
guns were loaded when we got into the Indian country and 
were kept so. We had no target practice of any kind. At 
the time of the massacre they tried to show that Captain 
Tenyck showed cowardice and took a roundabout way, but 
this was not true. One thing was sure about Tenyck — 
there was no cowardice in his make-up. He could not have 
taken a roundabout way if he wanted to do so, as his com- 
mand was in plain sight of the fort. There was an Indian 
riding around near where the bodies of the dead were lying. 
He hollered for the men to come down. Captain Tenyck 
told some of the men to go down and load the wagons and 
ambulances with the bodies. All of the bodies were stripped, 
scalped and mutilated with the exception of two who were 
not scalped but the Indians had drawn a buffalo bag over 
their heads. We returned to camp without firing a shot. 
It was dark when the 45 men under Captain Tenyck re- 
turned to the fort. 

At the fort all was excitement. The magazine at the 
fort was a half dug-out located on the parade grounds. The 
men worked all night there building a stockade all around it 
with green planks and putting water and provisions inside 
in case of a siege. The next afternoon Colonel Carrington 
with about fifty men went after the balance of the bodies. 
They dug a long trench and put two or three bodies into 
each box. 

A day or two after the massacre the weather turned 
bitterly cold and the men were badly frozen trying to bury 
the dead. There was a heavy fall of snow which drifted 
the roads and ravines badly. The Master of Transporta- 
tion had left some time in November and with him in his 
pockets went the money for our supply of wood and hay. 
It was reported that he went to Canada. We had to go 
seven miles for pine wood for the officers. The men got 
green cottonwood from the Piney bottoms and fed the tops 


to the mules. The poor mules ate holes through the logs 
in their stables. We had to go to Reno, sixty-five miles 
away, for corn. The snow was very deep and it took several 
days to make the trip. The men suffered terribly as there 
was no shelter for men or mules and they were three or four 
nights out on the road. The mercury dropped to twenty- 
five and forty below zero and kept that way for about six 
weeks. Our shoes were made of cheap split leather and the 
shoddy clothes that were furnished at that time were not 
any protection. One thing in our favor was that after the 
first few days storm we had very little wind. Burlap sacks 
were at a premium and saved our lives. We wrapped them 
about our shoes to keep from freezing, for there were no 
overshoes or rubbers to be had at the fort. A few years 
later soldiers were furnished fur overcoats and overshoes. 
Some time the 1st of January reinforcements arrived, 
marching on foot from Fort Laramie. They had had to 
shovel snow all the way. Their arrival made our conditions, 
if anything, worse, for they had no provisions and no feed 
for the stock. Two companies of Cavalry that came to the 
relief of the fort returned at once to Fort Laramie. They 
had brought some extra ammunition with them which we 
needed badly. Most of the men were badly frozen. 

In the early spring we were issued some cornmeal, 
ground at the fort. We were not as badly off as the men 
at Fort C. F. Smith. They were abandoned from the mid- 
dle of November, 1866, until March, 1867, and corn was 
about all they had to eat. I am of the opinion that the 
officers thought that the men were all killed at the time of 
the massacre and no one was left. We didn't have a stick 
of wood three days after the massacre. The slabs from the 
mills were used in roofing the barracks and these were all 
covered with dirt except the officers' quarters and all of 
the buildings in the stock stockade. The cull slabs were 
used by the mills to keep up steam. The wood and hay all 
went to Canada with the Master of Transportation. About 
the first of March two sergeants — two men that should 
have monuments, but forgotten — volunteered to go to Fort 
C. F. Smith and see what had become of the men there. The 
snow was very deep and they went on snow shoes. They 
finally returned, bringing some Crow Indians with them 
and a lot of mail packed on dogs. The men at all three forts 
were out of tobacco and some of them seemed to miss that 
as much as their rations. 

In the spring of 1867 General John E. Smith arrived 
with recruits. They had been snowed in all winter on the 
Platte River where Fort Fetterman was built later. After 


his arrival, there was a great change at the fort. Men up 
to this time had worked at all kinds of work. There were 
all kinds of mechanics in the army, and they had built the 
fort, driven teams, etc., but had had no drill or target prac- 
tice. General Smith put all extra men working at extra 
pay at 35c per day. We had target practice for the first 
time. This was expensive, as the government charged 
twenty-five cents per cartridge to the men if they were 
short. We received a couple of orders from Omaha, Ne- 
braska, Department of the Platte, never to shoot at an In- 
dian until he shot at you It was undersigned by General 
Crooke. He wanted us to save the ammunition, I suppose. 

The spring of 1867 also was the time the effects of the 
spoiled flour and bacon showed up. All of the men that 
were at the fort at the time it was established got the 
scurvy. Some lost their teeth and some the use of their 
legs. In the spring when the grass came up there were 
lots of wild onions, and the scurvy gang was ordered out 
to eat them. The writer had to get out on his hands and 
knees for some time and then the general order came not to 
let the men dig onions, as some of them at Julesburg had 
been poisoned, but we went out just the same. We thought 
we might just as well die at once as to die by inches. The 
Government carried these men on the roll until their time 
was up. There were several of my company discharged at 
Omaha on the first of March, 1869. In this way they 
avoided the necessity of giving a pension, as would have 
been compulsory if let out as they they should have been. 
I remember one man they gave a "Bob-Tail" discharge to 
hecause he got drunk a few days before his time to be dis- 
charged. I do not know what became of him, as both of his 
legs were as stiff as posts from the hips down. A lot of 
men who should have been discharged for disability were 
thus carried or gotten rid of by some other means and did 
not get the pension they were justly entitled to. 

At Omaha Barracks I saw another cruelty similar to 
the one I saw at Phil Kearney in 1866. A member of Com- 
pany "C" had broken some of the rules, just what I do not 
know now if I ever did. His head was shaved and he was 
branded with a hot iron and drummed out of the army. At 
that time it was suicide to go a mile from the fort, for the 
Indians watched the road constantly, but this did not seem 
to matter. The day for carrying out the penalty had ar- 
rived, so he was drummed out About that time there was 
a bull train coming in and I suppose they picked him up. 
I had thought that this custom was just a way the officers 
of Fort Phil Kearney had of punishment, but by February 


or March, 1869, there had been four or five men drummed 
out of the Omaha Barracks. In each instance the men were 
branded with a hot iron, their heads were shaved, they were 
marched around the fort with a fife and drum playing "Poor 
Old Soldier," and then drummed out. (The cruelty was not 
all practiced by the Indians.) 

General Smith was a strict officer, but he was just. 
Our rations were better and things went along smoother. 
After the massacre, the Indians did not show up again until 
some time in May, owing to the condition of their ponies, 
I suppose. They then commenced to attack the trains again 
but we had more men to guard them by that time. In the 
summer of 1866 a detail of about seven men was the limit. 
In the summer of 1867 it was about twenty men. 

The Wagon Box Fight \/ 

About July 1st, twenty men were detailed from Com- 
pany "A" to guard the Gilmore and Porter bull train. They 
had the wood contract and had established their camp about 
six miles from the fort. They used only the running gear 
to haul the logs on, so used the wagon boxes to form a 
corral about two or three hundred yards from the timber. 
The logs were hauled out to the corral and the teams circled 
around the corral, and some loaded and some hauled logs 
and top-loaded at the corral. They could haul a full load 
from the corral to the fort, but only a small load out of the 
timber. These logs were some sixteen to eighteen feet long. 
August second, the day of the fight, the Indians charged 
up to these wood piles which were fifteen or twenty feet 
from the corral. The wagon boxes were of the "Prairie 
Schooner" type, about five feet high, with an extra board 
about fourteen inches high to go on top of the boxes. These 
wagon boxes had no lining whatever. 

On July 31st, the Indians had tried to drive off the 
cattle that were grazing between the Pineys about a mile 
from the foot of the mountain. They tried to stampede the 
cattle, but the men at the corral ran out on each side and 
stopped the cattle. The Indians tried hard to get a civilian 
by the name of Brown. Some of the soldiers at the corral 
managed to give the Indians a hot time and several were 
hurt before they abandoned the idea and picked up their 
men. A boy about fifteen years of age was with the civilian 
and hid in the brush and was not injured. Both this man 
Brown, and the boy, were in the Wagon Box Fight, the only 
civilians in the fight. 

I was with a detail of six men and a Corporal guarding 
a train a mile or so from the Gilmore and Porter train. We 
saw the skirmish, but took no part in it. The corral was 


burned the day of the Wagon Box Fight, and the Indians 
followed the men to the timber and tried to burn up some 
of the oxen. They fastened them to trees, but only killed 
five or six head. During the years we were there, the Sioux 
Indians never followed the men into the timber, but seven 
men were killed by the Blackfeet Indians in the timber. 

It was on August 1st that Company "C" relieved twenty 
men of Company "A." Company "G" was a strong company 
and General Smith knew the Indians would be after revenge. 
About eight o'clock, August 2nd, the men on the picket hill 
saw a large body of men (Indians) on the east side of the 
Big Piney and signaled the fort. The picket hill was south 
of the fort, and one could see all over the valley and watch 
the wagon corral and the men from the time they entered 
the timber or came out and all the way down to the fort. 
The men at the corral saw the Indians about the time the 
picket did. They cut port-holes through the unlined wagon 
boxes, scattered the ammunition along the boxes, removed 
the end-gates so they could move freely around the circle 
and piled ox-yokes and logs at the two ends of the corral 
which was circular in form. Smith immediately called out 
most of the available men to go to their relief and though 
he had been sick for some days he went with his men as 
far as the foot of Sullivan's Hill. The relief got there in 
time and the men at the corral were surely glad to see them. 
They were a hard lot to look at. The day was hot and the 
sun was beating down upon them in the wagon beds. The 
smoke from their guns had colored their faces and they 
looked as though they had used burnt cork on their faces. 
Red Cloud was fooled this time. Pwed Cloud with 3,000 
warriors could not defeat thirty-eight men. 

Up until about the first of June we had been armed 
with the old Springfield muzzle loading rifles. The men at 
the Wagon Bed were armed with needle guns, single shot, 
using a copper cartridge. They were good for eight to ten 
shots and after that it was necessary to eject the shell 
with a ramrod, as the ejector cut a groove in the rim of 
the cartridge. There were thirty-eight men in the corral 
and the Gilmore and Porter men that the soldiers were 
guarding were in the timber, — some fifty or sixty men, 
soldiers and civilians. The Indians did not molest them. 

In the summer of 1867 the Government built a log 
cabin some three hundred yards from the fort and on the 
banks of the Big Piney, also a foot-bridge for the Indians 
to cross. There were about two thousand Crow Indians on 
the east side of the Big Piney. About the same time that 
the Indians came, there were six 6-mule Government teams 


that arrived with goods for the Indians. There was an 
Indian agent at the fort whom we called Doctor. I will not 
give his name, for he is now gone where all good preachers 
go. The soldiers guarded the cabin, the agent and his 
goods. We also had a guard on the end of the foot-bridge 
to keep the soldiers from visiting the Indians. The Indians 
had also put a guard on their end of the bridge to keep the 
Indians from crossing the Piney. 

We thought the goods were to be given to the Indians, 
but judging from what I saw, the Indians paid several times 
the value of what they got. For a folding pocket glass 
about three inches across, a beaver skin or two buckskins 
was the price. The goods consisted of beads, calico, blan- 
kets and all kinds of trinkets that an Indian would like. 
Our interpreter, John Sted, was busy for about ten days. 
The six 6-mule teams went back loaded with furs. When 
the Doctor got back to Omaha he published a long article 
in an Omaha paper, stating that a foreigner could travel 
anywhere on the plains and not be molested by the Indians. 
I noticed, however, that he had a guard of twenty men all 
the way to Fort D. A. Russell. (4) 

The Crow Indians were not very well pleased with the 
treatment they had received and the young ones got quite 
ugly. When they went away they passed by Gilmore and 
Porter's wood train and helped themselves to what they 
wanted. They got a pile of ox-bows and two of the Indians 
would pull to see if they could pull it straight without break- 
ing it. The bows were of good hickory, but owing to the 
dry climate some of them broke, which made Mr Porter 
angry, and he knocked one of the Indians down with one of 
the broken bows. The Indians then went away. It seemed 
that they wanted the bows to make a bow. 

There were Indian camps scattered about along the 
Piney all the time after the first winter. The old squaws 
were inveterate beggars and a hard looking lot. They were 
dirty, their hair was matted and most of them had nearly 
all of their fingers cut off. I thought at first that they 
were frozen off, but later learned that this was the way 
they mourned for their dead. I still believe that they were 
frozen off, as they were beasts of burden, packing wood 
through the snow, sometimes for long distances, and with 
poor tools with which to cut the wood. The men folks and 
younger squaws burned the wood as fast as they could get 
it in the winter time. 

(4) Fort Russell — Name changed to Fort Francis E. Warren by Act of Congress 
effective January 1, 1930. 


Iron Bull was the war-chief of the Crows at that time 
and ruled with an iron hand. General Smith asked him to 
keep the Indians at their camp. He put a guard at the east 
end of the bridge, but some of them would ford the Piney 
and get into the fort. The Indian police, armed with rods 
six or seven feet long, would get after them and if they 
caught any of the squaws or bucks would give them a good 
flaying. I saw one Indian at our quarters, whom the In- 
dians had whipped with their switches. He got angry, and 
as he had smuggled a bow and arrow, he stood them off. 
One of the police hunted up a chief. When the chief got 
there he hit the troublesome Indian on the head with his 
tomahawk and he was a good Indian, maybe ever after. 
The Indians dragged him off to their camp. 

One day when the Indians were trading at the cabin 
they tied an Indian to a tree and the squaws and children 
with switches, sticks and stones, punished him severely. 
I only saw the last part of the show. The Indian broke 
loose and the squaws and children scattered. After knock- 
ing over some squaws, he lit out over the bluff with very 
little, if any, clothing. At first we thought he was a Sioux 
or a Cheyenne prisoner until we saw his head. He had the 
hair trim of a Crow Indian. We inquired of several Indians 
as to what he had been doing and finally one said, "He heap 
bad Indian. He never come back." The Indian men were 
looking on but took no part in the performance unless per- 
haps they had tied him to the tree. 

When the Crows were at the fort they would hold war 
dances lasting most of the night. When a war party got 
to camp we could tell by the action of the squaws what suc- 
cess they had had. Sometimes the squaws would go up 
over the bluffs crying. 

Some may not understand how they scalped the dead. 
The ran a knife around the edge of the hair and took off all 
the scalp. Some tribes cut the scalp up in small pieces and 
braided in it with their own hair, making a "scalp lock." 
They then are, in their own estimation, heap brave and 
look pretty and they smell, oh, so sweet! 

The summer of 1867, the Second Battalion 18th U. S. 
Infantry became the 27th U. S. Infantry, and that year a 
treaty was made wtih the Indians for the abandonment of 
Forts Reno, Phil Kearney, C. F. Smith and the Bozeman 
Road. The Indians were not to molest us and were to be 
peaceable, but that made no difference to Red Cloud or 
Spotted Tail. They were never known to keep a treaty. 

The great game country along the Bozeman Trail was 
a myth. All the time we were in that country I do not 


believe I saw more than a hundred buffalo. It was a fine 
grass country, however, I only speak of the country along 
the Bozeman Trail. There may have been buffalo east of 
that where Campbell and Crook counties are now. 

About the first of June General John E. Smith was 
called east and Captain Hart had command. He was a 
good man. 

We asked Jim Bridger how the Indians lived in the 
winter, and he replied that only for their ponies and dogs 
many of them would starve. Some of them also went to the 
Government Posts. It has been said that Red Cloud was a 
great warrior. Here is a typical example of his actions: 
The picket hill at Fort Phil Kearney overlooked the fort and 
one could see a man with the naked eye and could count all 
the men in the post. The Indians, however, had field 
glasses and spy glasses so they could easily count the men. 
After the pickets retired for the night the Indians would 
get on the picket hill and copy all of our signals for the en- 
joyment of those in the fort. After the massacre, we had 
not more than a hundred men, sick and wounded included, 
while Red Cloud had six or eight thousand men. The Crow 
Indians told us the next summer that at the time of the 
massacre, Red Cloud got his warriors together to take the 
three forts, changed his mind and decided to take Phil 
Kearney first, then divide his warriors and massacre the 
troops at Fort C. F. Smith and Fort Reno, but the eighty- 
one men put up such a stiff fight he gave it up as a bad job. 
Think of it, — eighty-one men were too tough to be palatable 
for Red Cloud and six thousand warriors! We abandoned 
the three forts about the middle of July, 1868, and marched 
to Fort D. A. Russell. After living so long away from 
where there were any vegetables and having a lot of crip- 
ples with the scurvy, we thought the Government would 
furnish vegetables, but not one vegetable did we get. The 
men chipped in mostly and traded bacon, coffee and flour 
for vegetables. During the three years I was in the army 
the Government never furnished us with any vegetables. 
Ours was indeed a "Forgotten Battalion.'V 

After a rest of about four days, my company (Com- 
pany "A") was detailed to guard the U. P. Railroad from 
Sidney, Nebraska, to Cheyenne. Six men and a "non-com" 
were at each station with headquarters at Pine Bluffs, a 
distance of about fifty miles. I had charge of six men at 
^^l&vdt OLiUfwd Station, about thirty-five miles from Cheyenne, 
" 1 Wyoming, and west of there. The rest of the regiment was 

sent down in Nebraska to hunt Indians on the Republican 
and Blue who had been killing settlers and freighters. The 


soldiers captured a few prisoners and brought them back 
to North Platte, Nebraska. They were turned loose a short 
time later, given some rations and told to be good. I sup- 
pose they were until the next spring. Two Indians, chiefs, 
I think, were sent to Omaha Barracks, held for some time 
and then shipped home. In the spring of 1869 I went to 
work for J. W. Ilif, a cattleman. His stock ranged along 
north of the South Platte where the towns of Eaton and 
Greely are now located, thence east to Fremont's Or- 
chards, Fremont, Nebraska, and north to the U. P. Rail- 
road. He was the only cattleman in the country at that 
time. I rode all over the country from Fort Collins to Sid- 
ney and north to Pumpkin Creek and Laurence Forks, Horse 
Creek. One man, a Mr. Sims, had a few cattle on the head 
of Horse Creek and Dick and Dan Latham on the Fort Lara- 
mie Crossing. In nearly two years riding I never saw a 
buffalo. The report was that the Government had beat 
the Indian out of such a wonderful hunting ground. They 
said the whole country was full of game and made believe 
the Indians were robbed. As I remember the Indians were 
paid for every foot of land they took from the Indians. 
When I was working for Ilif the Indians would pass back 
and forth going south into Kansas and Nebraska and north 
up into the Dakotas and Wyoming. They burned one of 
our ranches in the winter of 1869. It was close to where 
Grover, Colorado, now stands, but we were all well armed 
and they kept clear of us. They left the trail occasionally 
and killed cows so they could get the unborn calves to eat. 
They left their mark sometimes along the U. P. They 
killed several people at different times. Once I remember 
was at Pine Bluffs, where they killed a nephew of "Pine 
Bluffs' Tracy. They took toll at the Bluffs several times, 
also at Sidney, Nebraska, and at Point of Rocks, west of 
Sidney. Some time about the middle of May, 1870, they ran 
off a band of Ilif horses from Simpson Canyon, Chalk Bluffs. 
The horses were at North Platte in possession of the Sioux 
Indians the next year. Once later in the spring of 1870 
two of us were driving a herd of beef cattle to Cheyenne 
from Simpson Canyon. At Chalk Bluffs we ran into a band 
of Indians — seventeen in number. The Indians didn't start 
anything, and we did not, either. That was about seven 
miles east of Cheyenne. Many of the Indians we fought 
were peaceable at later fights. We had to fight them all at 
one time or another. At the time of the Custer Massacre, 
June 25th, for example, the Arapahoe Indians were on the 
Wind River Agency in Cheyenne, in the Indian Territory, 
being fed by the Government. The site of the Fetterman 


Massacre, December 21, 1866, was about sixty miles south 
of the Custer field and ten years earlier in time. 

For a year or two before the Custer Massacre, my 
partner, Peter Hamma, and I had a contract to haul Indian 
goods to the warerooms at Camp Carlin and some to the 
I. W. French warerooms on the corner of 15th Avenue and 
Eddy Street, Cheyenne, Wyo. The goods consisted of flour, 
bacon, coffee, sugar, hardtack and some boxes of merchan- 
dise. There was a large quantity of it. From Cheyenne 
the goods were freighted by bull trains and mules to a Red 
Cloud and Spotted Bull agency, Dakota. Some years after- 
ward they moved the depot to Sidney, Nebraska, and 
freighted the goods from there, as it was a shorter haul. 
At the time of the Custer Masacre, Sitting Bull's children, 
squaws and old men were well taken care of at the agency 
while he was out killing settlers and stealing stock. Some 
writers said the old men and the squaws were the ones that 
mutilated the Custer dead, but this was not so, for they 
were not there. 

In the latter part of the year 1927, Governor Johnson 
of Oklahoma made a statement printed in the Kansas City 
Star stating that the Indians always kept their agreements 
and all treaties, especially the treaty of 1867, laying all the 
blame on the Government for all of the Indian wars. I can 
only be charitable and credit him with ignorance and good 
intentions — certainly his statement lacked truth. This was 
directly opposite from most experiences of those having to 
deal with the Indians. I do not claim that all the wrong 
was one sided, but I do claim that the Indians could never 
be trusted and never paid any attention to the treaty in 
question. Red Cloud in particular, to the best of my knowl- 
edge, never kept a treaty he made. 

I was at a reunion at Sheridan, Wyoming, in 1908 and 
was told that the Crow Indians were nearly self-supporting 
at that time, after thirty-five years. The Government had 
built quarters on the land, given them stock and teachers 
to show them haw to farm and raise good stock and yet 
after THIRTY-FIVE YEARS, with all this assistance, they 

Little publicity or public recognition has ever been 
given the Indian War Veteran and his accomplishments. 
They are indeed a FORGOTTEN PEOPLE and the only ones 
in American history so treated. They seem to have been 
put in the same class with the police in a city. They were 
so placed for the purpose of being shot at and abused. 
Their deeds were in a country little known and against an 
enemy that was not a national menace as in other wars- 


The natural result was that they were shelved when other 
veterans were getting pensions and monuments. They 
traveled through snow and cold without shelter, and were 
expected to do the impossible, such as traveling fifty to a 
hundred miles in a day on foot to get to the scene of some 
depredation by Indians The popular idea was that they 
were no good anyway. If the settlers that now enjoy their 
ranches in Nebraska, Wyoming, the Dakotas, New Mexico, 
Colorado, Arizona, Minnesota and all of the western states, 
would stop and think, they would find that at least one 
Indian War Veteran lost his life for every township in the 
entire territory described. 

All of the old timers in Cheyenne will remember my 
bunkie, John Donovan. He had three arrow wounds, one 
from a poisoned arrow that left a running sore. He was 
also a Civil War Veteran. He tried to get a pension for 
many years. I suppose when they saw he was a regular 
soldier they pigeonholed his application, for he was rejected 
several times. He finally got $16.00 per month. He died 
many years ago, but lived in the nine hundred block, East 
22nd Street, in Cheyenne, Wyoming. 

In 1908, when I went to the reunion in Sheridan, Wyo- 
oming, Colonel Carrington with his wife, five soldiers and 
two citizens were all we could rally. All but three are now 
dead. Mrs. Wheatly, the wife of the Wheatly that was 
killed at the massacre, married a man by the name of Breck- 
enridge and lived on a ranch about five miles up the river 
from Fort Laramie. As I remember, she had two boys 
when she lived at Fort Phil Kearney. Lieutenant Colonel 
Grummond's widow married Colonel Carrington. 

^James Bridger was with us all the summer of 1866 
up until late in the fall. If Col. Carrington and the officers 
had followed the advice of Bridger I do not think there 
would have been nearly as many of our men killed. He told 
the officers not to follow the Indians and to send more men 
on escort duty, but they thought he was old and did not 
know anything about Indian warfare. As I knew him, he 
was nothing like the Jim Bridger as pictured in the film, 
"The Covered Wagon," which I saw in 1926. I never saw 
him under the influence of liquor, and I know he did not 
have any squaws along with him. He must have been be- 
tween sixty and seventy years of age at that time, but he 
was quite spry, was a good story teller and could speak the 
Indian language. 

(Continued in January Number.) 



Carroll, Major C. G. — Fortune, magazine published monthly. 

Clark, A. M. — Wyoming- Masonic Bulletin and Utah Odd Fellow, mag- 
azines, published monthly. 

Omwake, John — Book entitled "Conestoga-Six-Horse Bell Teams," 

Hilton, Huber C. — Map of the Medicine Bow National Forest, Wyo- 

Beckwith, Frank — Picture of the Beckwith & Co. business card used 
at the time Mr. A. C. Beckwith was in partnership in the gro- 
cery business with Ben Gallagher and S. A. Megeath in Bryan 
City, Wyoming. 

Secretary of State's Office — Pictures of the following men who held 
the office of Secretary of State: Edward M. Lee, 1869-1870; 
John W. Meldrum, 1889-1890; Herman Glafcke, 1870-1873; A. 
Worth Spates, 1879-1880; George W. French, 1875-1879; Jason B. 
Brown, 1873-1875; Elliott S. N. Morgan, 1880-1887; Samuel D. 
Shannon, 1887-1889; Amos W. Barber, 1891-1894; Charles W. 
Burdick, 1895-1898; Fenimore Chatterton, 1899-1906; William 
R. Schnitger, 1907-1910; Frank Houx, 1911-1918; W. E. Chaplin, 
1919-1923; Frank E. Lucas, 1923-1926. 

Holmberg, Mrs. Addie E. — Three poems written by Mrs. Holmberg: 
"Old Independence Rock," "Pioneers of the West," "An Apostro- 
phe to Wyoming." 

Trail, Edgar B. — Original manuscript, "Life and Adventures of John 

Altman, Henry — Two pictures of Hereford ranch, Cheyenne, Wyo- 
ming. Mr. Altaian's plans for the Cheyenne City Park in 1888. 
Map of Salt Creek Field. Lake Superior Iron Ores; Mine Pro- 
duction in Western States and Alaska; Copper; Mineral Paints; 
Iron and Manganese; Lead and Zinc; Miscellaneous Non-metallic 
products; Metals and Non-metals except fuels; Grazing on the 
Public Lands, with maps; Agricultural Development in Argen- 
tina; Indian Corn in Argentina; Alfalfa and beef production in 
Argentina; Progress of Beet Sugar Industry in United States; 
Coal and Lignite; Coal Fields in Montana; the Bull Mountain 
Coal Field in Montana, with maps; Coal Fields in Wyoming; 
Coal samples from various fields in United States; Oil Shale of 
the Rocky Mountain Region, with maps; Geology and Oil Re- 
sources in parts of California, with maps; Petroleum in 1915, 
1916, and 1918; Mineral Fuels, 1912, 1915, 1918, and 1925, all 
with maps; Artesian Basins; Forests and Water in the light of 
Scientific Investigation; Preparing Land for Irrigation; Deep 
Borings of the United States; Underground Waters of Gila Val- 
ley, Arizona; Underground Waters of Southern Louisiana; Water 
Problems of Santa Barbara, California; Official publication of 
the States of Wyoming 1899. All of the above are government 
documents. Seven business documents. "Story of the Here- 
fords," by Alvin H. Sanders. This is the story of Hereford Cat- 
tle and contains much history of Wyoming cattle and cattle own- 
ers. "Turner's Guide to the Rocky Mountains," published in 
1868. This book contains much Wyoming history and gives a 
description of the old town of Benton. Benton was at that time 
the end of the Union Pacific Road. "The Treasury of Ge- 


ography," by Maunders, published in 1867, with maps. ''Chronol- 
ogy of History, Art and Literature from the earliest period to 
1856." Volumes 1, 2, and 3 of the General Gazetteer. This con- 
tains descriptions of various countries, states, cities, etc., and 
was published in 1823. Book of Lectures delivered by Dionyseus 
Lordner, LL. D., on the sun, comets, electrcity, etc., and pub- 
lished in 1842. 

Pennsylvania Railroad — Nos. 1 and 2 of a series of twelve Pennsyl- 
vania Railroad Patriotic posters the originals of which were 
painted by the well known American artist, Mr. N. C. Wyeth.. 

Deming, William C. — Files, correspondence, reports and other rec- 
ords of the Wyoming commission to the World's exposition at 
St. Louis in 1904, and Portland, Oregon, in 1905. Clarence B. 
Richardson was president of the commission and Mr. Deming was 
secretary. The St. Louis board was named by Gov. DeForest 
Richards and the Portland commission by Gov. B. B. Brooks. 

Meyers, E. D. — "Reports of the Governors of Wyoming. 1880-1890;" 
"Compiled Laws of Wyoming, 1876." From Hon. Henry Altman, 
given by E. D. Meyers. 

Myers, E. D. — Original poem, "The New Baby," written with pen and 
ink and signed "Malinda Nimetz, Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory, 
March 11, 1878." Blank sheet of blue-gray, lined letter paper at 
top of which is beautifully printed "Council Chamber of the Leg- 
islative Assembly, Territory of Wyoming, Cheyenne, 187 — ." The 
quality of the paper is very good and the lettering clear cut and 
very ornate. 

Marzel, John G. — "The Dinosaurs of Wyoming," by Roy L. Moodie, 
Ph. D. 

Shepherd, Rev. H. E. — Fourteenth Annual Session of the Wyoming 
State Conference, Methodist Episcopal Church, 1928. Saddle 
bags used by Rev. J. H. Gillespie, a preacher in Wyoming, 1889. 

Brown, Brig. Gen'l W. C. — Map of Raynold's Explorations. Picture 
of Robert Lindneux's painting, "The Slaying of Yellow Hair by 
Buffalo Bill, July 17, 1876." Small blue print containing two 
prints — one of the routes traversed by the Powder River Indian 
expedition and the other map of the region traversed by the 
three columns of the Powder River Expedition. Large blue print 
showing forty-one Indian battles with their dates, locations, 
names under which they are now known, etc. 

Jackson, W. H. — Four original pictures of early pioneer days in Wyo- 
ming: (1) Emigrant train in the vicinity of Chimney Rock. (2) 
Independence Rock with a covered wagon train camping for the 
night in the foreground. (3) Emigrant train crossing South Pass 
in Wyoming. (4) The different modes of travel in the early 
pioneer days. 

Madden, James L. — Copper token known as a "Jackson political to- 
ken." This token is not quite as large as a fifty-cent piece, and 
is not a coin. Found ten years ago on the Cheyenne-Deadwood 
stage road in the vicinity of Hot Springs, South Dakota. Upon 
one side of the token is a picture of a turtle, bearing on his back 
a box with the words "Sub-Treasury" upon it, and on the other 
side is a picture of a running jackass with the words, "I follow 
in the steps of my illustrious predecessor." The date upon the 


token is 1837. A copy of the last order, General Orders No. 10, 
issued at Headquarters 36th Inf., U. S. Vols., San Francisco, 
Calif., Mar. 15, 1901. Letter from Associated News while Mr. 
Madden was writing for the "Big Horn River Pilot" relative to 
mineral resources of the Philippines, dated March 31, 1899, New 
York. Note from Captain H. A. Clarke, Bat. "A," Lt. Art., Wyo. 
U. S. Vols., to Major Stranb, Manila, P. I., who was Regimental 
Surgeon of 36th Inf. U. S. Vols. 

Madden, James L. — Roster of Battery "A," Light Artillery, Wyo- 
ming U. S. Vols., as printed on or about June 12, 1898. Metal 
(Concho) (Funk & Wagnalls Standard Dictionary) being the 
external ear (Spanish) of the blind of a horse's bridle, found 
within several miles of the State, Telegraph & Pony Express 
Station on Horseshoe Creek on or about 1912, 1913, or 1914. 

Lambertson, Eva G. — Booklet containing fourteen original poems. 

Fox, Mrs. George W. — Copy of diary kept by George W. Fox in 1866, 
telling of his journey overland through Wyoming. 

Staack, Henry B. — Original manuscript entitled "The First Christ- 
mas Tree in Wyoming," which tells the story of the Missionaries 
from the Iowa Synod who decorated the first Christmas tree for 
the Indians. 

Kline,, M. — Original manuscripts entitled "The Hated Fort on the 
Little Piney," "The Bozeman Trail," "John Phillips, a Hero of 
Fort Phil Kearney," "The Pony Express," "Lewis & Clark Ex- 
pedition," "Frontier Days," "Ashley-Smith Expedition," "The 
Ashley Fur Men," "The Astorians," "The Discovery of Gold in 
the West," "The Oregon Trail," "Religion in the Early West," 
"Thanksgiving Day." 

Gray, Mrs. F. A. — Copy of the Daily Advertiser — Supplement, April 
17, 1865, published in Boston, Mass., carrying the account of the 
assassination of President Lincoln. 

Hooker, W. F. — "Glimpses of an Earlier Milwaukee." Four pictures 
of site of his cabin on the LaBonte creek, of the dedication of 
marker, and of the men who dedicated it. On one of the pic- 
tures Mr. Hooker has sketched in his cabin with ink. Speech 
made before the Boy Scouts at Independence Rock on July 4, 
1930. Reminiscences prepared for use at the Rock but not pre- 
sented. Reminiscences presented at the dedication ceremony of 
the marker on the site of Bill Hooker's cabin. 

Henderson, Kenneth A. — Pamphlets containing articles on the Wind 
River and Teton Ranges written by Mr. Henderson. 

Ellison, R. S.— "Independence Rock The Great Record of the Desert/" 
by Mr. Ellison. 

Goldstein, Abe — 5691 Rosh Hashanah Edition — 1930, "The Wyoming 
Jewish Press, Volume 1, Number 1, eighteen pages, Cheyenne, 
Wyoming, Monday, September 22, 1930. The copy of this new 
paper which Mr. Goldstein has given to the State is the first 
paper taken from the press. "The Wyoming Jewish Press" rep- 
resents the first effort on the part of the Jewish people in Wyo- 
ming to publish their own paper. The format of the issue is 
attractive to the eye; the contents entertaining and informative.. 
The paper is well edited. 

JVimals of Patterning 

Vol. 7 JANUARY, 1931 No. 3 


Hooker's Cabin and Markers on LaBonte Creek 

Albert W. Johnson // 

First Christmas Tree in Wyoming Henry F. Staack 

Story of the First Shot Capt. I. R. McLendon 

Dr. Edward Day Woodruff ,— By His Daughter 

The Forgotten Battalion (Concluded from October Annals) 


Published Quarterly 

by the 


Mrs. Cyrus Beard, Historian 


£«»aia °f Pgonttng 

Vol. 7 JANUARY, 1931 No. 3 


Hooker's Cabin and Markers on LaBonte Creek 

Albert W. Johnson 

First Christmas Tree in Wyoming Henry F. Staack 

Story of the First Shot Capt. I. R. McLendon 

Dr. Edward Day Woodruff --By His Daughter 

The Forgotten Battalion (Concluded from October Annals) 


Published Quarterly 

by the 


Mrs. Cyrus Beard, Historian 



Governor Frank C. Emerson 

Secretary of State A. M. Clark 

State Librarian Mrs. Clare E. Ausherman 

Secretary of Board Mrs. Cyrus Beard 


Judge E. H. Fourt Lander 

Dr. Grace R. Hebard Laramie 

Mrs. C. L. Vandevender Basin 

Mr. C. F. Maurer Douglas 

Mr. Phillip E. Winter Casper 

Mrs. R. A. Ferguson Wheatland 

Mrs. M. M. Parmelee Buffalo 

Miss Spaeth Gillette 

Mrs. P. J. Quealy Kemmerer 

Neither the State Historical Board, the State Historical Advisory Board nor the 
State Historian is responsible for any statements made or opinions expressed by 
contributors to the Annals of Wyoming. 


Session Laws 1921 


Section 6. It shall be the duty of the State His- 
torian : 

(a) To collect books, maps, charts, documents, man- 
uscripts, other papers and any obtainable material illus- 
trative of the history of the State. 

(b) To procure from pioneers narratives of any ex- 
ploits, perils and adventures. 

(c) To collect and compile data of the events which 
mark the progress of Wyoming from its earliest day to 
the present time, including the records of all of the 
Wyoming men and women, who served in the World War 
and the history of all war activities in the State. 

(d) To procure facts and statements relative to the 
history, progress and decay of the Indian tribes and other 
early inhabitants within the State. 

(e) To collect by solicitation or purchase fossils, 
specimens, of ores and minerals, objects of curiosity con- 
nected with the history of the State and all such books, 
maps, writings, charts and other material as will tend to 
facilitate historical, scientific and antiquarian research. 

(f) To file and carefully preserve in his office in 
the Capitol at Cheyenne, all of the historical data col- 
lected or obtained by him, so arranged and classified as 
to be not only* available for the purpose of compiling and 
publishing a History of Wyoming, but also that it may be 
readily accessible for the purpose of disseminating such 
historical or biographical information as may be reason- 
ably requested by the public. He shall also bind, cata- 
logue and carefully preserve all unbound books, manu- 
scripts, pamphlets, and especially newspaper files contain- 
ing legal notices which may be donated to the State His- 
torical Board. 

(g) To prepare for publication a biennial report of 
the collections and other matters relating to the transac- 
tion of the Board as may be useful to the public. 

(h) To travel from place to place, as the require- 
ments of the work may dictate, and to take such steps, 
not inconsistent with the provisions of this Act, as may be 
required to obtain the data necessary to the carrying out 
of the purpose and objects herein set forth. 



JVmtals of ^fflg0mmg 

Vol. 7 JANUARY, 1931 No. 3 



If you will shut your eyes to the present, and try to 
take the scene back to October, 1874, you can visualize Bill 
Hooker busily engaged in building a dugout-cabin on the 
west bank of La Bonte Creek, twelve miles due south of 
the present city of Douglas. The year before, Mr. Hooker, 
smitten with the western fever, had come west as a railroad 
man, and as such was employed by the Union Pacific Rail- 
road, at the "Railroad," which in those days meant Chey- 
enne, (east and west). He was not long a railroad man, 
because the gang he was in was soon fired to the last man, 
owing to the improper handling of a sidetracked car of 
liquid freight, to the detriment of the railroad company. 
The spirit of adventure heaving within, caught him in its 
folds, and we find him seeking employment as a "Bull- 
whacker" with a bull train loading at Camp Carlin, for their 
long trek to the army posts north and northwest of Chey- 
enne. Nath Williams was the wagon boss for John Hunton, 
who had the contract of hauling government freight, and 
who put Bill on the job. The hard life to which he was be- 
ing initiated developed a robust constitution, and with all 
the hardships and exposure encountered on the trail, it is 
to his credit that nothing daunted or discouraged him. At 
first he drove the mess wagon, which followed the rear of 
the train, until advanced to whacking the lead team in the 
second section of the outfit — in a few weeks we find him a 
night herder for Charley Clay, another freighter, and then 
later again back with John Hunton's bulls, driving seven 
yoke on the Medicine Bow-Fort Fetterman trail. Like all 
westerners Bill, no longer a tenderfoot, passed from one 
employer to the other — John Hunton, Charley Clay, and 
vice versa, whacking bulls over the old trails until in the 


fall of 1874, his heart answering the call of the wild, he 
decided to stake on La Bonte Creek and live Nature's life, 
like a true plainsman. 

It was in August, 1929, that the writer, accompanied 
by the late James M. Abney, made an exploration trip to 
La Bonte valley to begin the work of locating Bill Hooker's 
dugout-cabin site on La Bonte Creek, and which was com- 
pleted on July 1, 1930, by the exact and certain location of 
the camp occupied by Bill Hooker and his old soldier partner, 
Nick Huber, during the winter of 1874-5. To leave some 
mark to identify the spot in the future, a limestone slab, 
from the historic La Bonte Stage Station, less than a mile 
above, was selected from a pile corded on Mr. Fred Dilts' 
place about one-fourth of a mile from the Bill Hooker cabin 
location ; before returning to Douglas that evening (July 1, 
1930) a crudely chiseled inscription was engraved thereon 
by the writer, and a promise obtained from Mr. Dilts to 
place it in position on the old site of Bill Hooker's dugout- 
cabin, the location being on land owned at present by him. 
The marker has the following imprint: 




The interest aroused in the find communicated to Mr. 
Hooker, who was in Casper participating in the festivities 
arranged for the Fourth of July celebration at Independence 
Rock in connection with the Covered Wagon Centennial, and 
my personal contact with him there, together with his 
friends, Mr. R. S. Ellison, Chairman of the Landmarks Com- 
mission, and Malcolm Campbell, his old wagon boss in the 
'70's ; an arrangement was perfected by Mr. Ellison to pro- 
vide an opportunity for Mr. Hooker and Mr. Campbell to 
re-visit the old wilderness home of Mr. Hooker, and with 
Mr. Ellison in his automobile the trip was quickly made, 
meeting an appointment with Mr. L. P. Bishop, Secretary 
of the Pioneer Association in Douglas, who accompanied 
the party to Bill Hooker's cabin site on La Bonte Creek. 

Moved by the same spirit to perpetuate the spot by the 
placement of a second marker, a granite boulder lying about 
half way between the cabin site and the stream, was chosen, 
and Mr. Bishop chiseled thereon (July 6, 1930) the follow- 
ing inscription : 



Underneath he engraved a picture of the cabin in 

At the completion of the marking the boulder with the 
above Rune — Bill Hooker (74) and Malcolm Campbell (91), 
standing back, each with one foot resting on the stone, had 
their picture taken, which has been preserved in this con- 
nection in the present issue of the Annals. 

That future generations may know, a request was made 
on Mr. Hooker for a description of his cabin on La Bonte 
Creek (1874), incidents and life as he experienced it within 
the boundary of his immediate surroundings. Under date 
of November 19, 1930, he writes from his winter home in 

"Your request for a rough draft of my cabin as it ap- 
peared in 1874 is a big order, but I am going to give you 
something that can be used as a. guide for one who can draw. 

My memory is not clear about the size of the cabin, but 
it was large enough for two of us to move about without 
running into one another. I should say it was fully four- 
teen feet in length and twelve feet in width, and high 
enough for us to walk about without striking our heads on 
the aspen rafters, which we split and covered with sod, a 
layer of sand, etc. The floor was a sort of clay, as I re- 
member it, and quite solid after short use. Our bunks were 
made of crotched bits of trees with stringers laid length- 
wise. On these we used staves of several barrels which 
had contained provisions brought from Fort Fetterman. 
On top of this was marsh hay, some old blankets and buf- 
falo robes, and we slept very comfortably with only a 
gunnysack dropped down over the doorway. The fireplace, 
which I built myself, was of stones, some of which I identi- 
fied last July, because they are still blackened after fifty- 
six years, and scattered about the neighborhood. The roof 
came even with the ground, we having dug into the solid 
earth, making an excavation that covered everything up to 
within a few feet of the front part of the cabin. The side 
walls were of small cottonwood logs, and the chinking was 
done with clay, and I think some grass mixed with it, so it 
was really adobe. I mentioned in a former letter to you 
that I made a bridge of a huge cottonwood log which I fell 
across the north branch of La Bonte Creek. I did not have 
an adz, but a two-bitted axe for this purpose. My chimney 
from the fireplace extended on a couple of feet, as I remem- 
ber, above the surrounding mesa, which was covered with 
sage, prickly pear and cactus, reaching gradually the high 
knoll to the northwest, which you noted while there. This 



9 *»* " °¥ - 



knoll was my lookout to which I repaired usually every 
morning at daylight to take a survey of the surrounding 
country, to see if there was any smoke. Frequently I made 
a circle of the cabin in the snow to discover any possible 
tracks, either of Indians or game, and on one occasion found 
that a moccasin track led directly to the chimney. This I 
followed, as I remember now, to a point across the Oregon 
Trail toward the North Platte River. Evidently this Indian 
was a scout from some camping party across the North 
Platte who had seen our smoke ; but in the winter time, as 
you probably know, Indians were not as usual scalp hunting, 
but looking for deer, antelope or something of that kind. 
It was after the grass began to grow that they thought of 
lifting scalps. Mr. Hooker continues: Oh, yes, there was 
a splendid spring at the foot of the stairway made of flat 
stones that I built from the cabin door. This ran down to 
the big log which was beside the spring. It was also one of 
my first morning jobs to get a pailful of spring water for 
the cabin. 

Our kitchen utensils consisted of several iron pots, a 
government camp kettle bought at the Commissary Depart- 
ment in Fort Fetterman, regulation government tin cups 
holding about a pint each, and tin plates, old fashioned wood 
handled case knives and forks, and a few things like that. 
We had no table, using our knees. 

We had one full grain sack of navy beans, and they 
lasted us from October until June, and I think some were 
left when the Indians appeared south of the Platte, and we 
lit out for a safer place. There was always a pot of beans 
suspended over the fire on a rigging that I made from an 
old wagon tire and other pieces of iron that I found among 
discarded things near Bedtick Creek on the Oregon Trail. 
I doubt if there was ever a day for more than seven months 
that we did riot have bean soup. We had plenty of bacon, 
and always the carcas of a deer or antelope hung head down 
on the front of the cabin.". — Hooker. 

Bill Hooker, then only a youth of eighteen, living a 
primitive life on the plains on the far western frontier in 
Wyoming. Brave and capable as a man. For seven long 
months his sole companion was a half crazed old soldier 
(Nick Huber) against whom he had to be on guard con- 
stantly, for fear of bodily harm. Something unusual oc- 
curred — it was getting around to the season of Christmas, 
at least it appeared that way to Nick. A Christmas tree 
was discussed, and that likely one could be secured in the 
foothills of Laramie Peak to the south, which held the 
charm over La Bonte region, and on which we feasted our 


eyes on clear days. Nick was the instigator of the idea, 
and it was agreed that he secure the Christmas tree, even 
if he had to go twenty miles for it, and that Bill would on 
the following day strike out for Fort Fetterman to obtain 
Christmas joy and a few dainties for the proper celebration 
of Christmas. Late that evening Bill Hooker arrived at 
the Suttler's store at the Fort, and was informed, to his 
surprise, that the day was Christmas. Having made his 
purchases and early on the morrow he started back over 
the frozen snow that covered the plain to Wagon Hound 
Creek and over the mesa to La Bonte Creek, reaching his 
abode there late at night, finding Nick decorating the 
Christmas tree — the first Christmas tree on La Bonte, a 
day late in the reckoning, but it was Christmas and Nick 
Huber celebrated his birthday that year a day late, and 
never knew the difference, for Bill kept his secret to him- 

I quote from Mr. Hooker: "We had no watch. No 
clock. No almanac. No thermometer, or anything to read. 
No book or paper." 

The pioneer home in that Indian infested and wholly 
uninhabited country, a spot no one but a reckless youth and 
a homeless old soldier would try to live. Although it was 
winter, they chopped wood, with their rifles standing 
against the trees close at hand. No Indian, however, dis- 
turbed them while the snow was on the ground. They 
chopped, cross-cut logs for firewood, hunted a great deal, 
blasted all-dead frost filled cottonwoods, and put up during 
the winter one hundred cords of wood for government use 
at Fort Fetterman. The winter of 1874-5 was snowy and 
cold. It was nothing unusual to get game, for they could 
go out any time and get anything they wanted — elk, bear, 
deer, antelope and sage grouse. 

Surely the Hooker cabin site should be recognized as 
an historic spot, surrounded as it is with so many interest- 
ing memories of the old days, marked for future genera- 
tions, and a good record made of it in the archives of the 
Historical Society of Wyoming. Looking backward fifty- 
six years to the old days, Mr, Hooker says: He had no 
notion at all that it was a foolish and hazardous undertak- 
ing, although both felt that they might be attacked by the 
Indians; but that for some reason never felt at all un- 
equal to a battle between a thousand of them single handed 
or with old Nick at his side. Isn't it funny? But youth 
and foolish old men are liable to do most anything. 










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William F. (Bill) Hooker holds membership card No. 1, 
(Honorary) in the Pioneer Association of Wyoming, and 
feels proud of the honor conferred upon him by the asso- 
ciation, often recalling the fact with appreciation. 

Wyoming's pioneering days are over, and those few 
pioneers who still remain this side of the Divide, carry the 
story of the old days of privation and a life full of hazard. 
Among that little company we still count Bill Hooker, active 
and with an ambition to spread the gospel of good cheer 
•and historic things, throughout the length and breadth of 


our land, — ever exalting and pointing to Wyoming as the 
fountain head of his fondest memories. 

The victory of spirit and the fortitude of man was in- 
strumental in the winning of the west from savagery of a 
thousand years. The graves and stone heaps that dot the 
trails, testify to the sacrifice and suffering endured in the 
quest of Eldorado. 

William Francis Hooker, now actively engaged in edi- 
torial and other literary pursuits in New York, has con- 
tributed to the State Historical Department a series of very 
valuable reminiscences of the early days in Wyoming, when 
her history was in the making. 

No other man is more qualified to give an accurate 
account of the events that transpired in those days than 
he. Mr. Hooker came to Wyoming as a sixteen-year-old 
boy, in 1873, and worked for several years as a "bull- 
whacker" for John Hunton, Charles Clay, Pratt & Ferris 
and others. His work took him over all the broken trails 
and he assisted in making new ones when the old ones 
failed to serve. 

His picturesque portrayal of old Fort Fetterman in its 
rough and ready and withal, dangerous days, follows: 

"Fort Fetterman, located at the juction of LaPrelle 
Creek and the North Platte River, was built largely of adobe 
and hewn logs, though some of the company quarters and 
the houses of the officers were made of sawed lumber that 
came from the range of hills to the south. 

"Fort Fetterman, in the early years, was the 'jump- 
ing-off place' in the northwestern direction. All trails from 
the east and south ended there, though previously when 
Fort Caspar was occupied and Fort Reno and Fort Kearney 
were on the map, there was some traffic beyond this point 
for bull outfits. 

"In 1874 there wasn't a ranch between Forts Laramie 
and Fetterman on the trail which ran east and west, south 
of the Platte, or from Hunton's on the Chug, to Fetterman. 
All that vast territory was in a virgin state. Neither was 
there a ranch between Fort Fetterman and Medicine Bow 
on the Medicine Bow Trail. As the Hon. John Hunton,* in 
a letter to the writer some months ago said, There wasn't 
a fence or fence-post for hundreds of miles in any direction 
when you were here.' 

"It was all a wild, unranged, untilled expanse of sage 
or grassy plains and plateaus, crossed and fed by fast-flow- 

*The Hon. John Hunton, beloved pioneer of Wyoming, died at his home in Tor- 
rington, Wyoming, September 4, 1928. 


ing streams from well wooded mountains and hills, and still 
inhabited by deer, antelope, beaver, bear, wildcats, wolves, 
coyotes and other game, though the buffalo had already 
abandoned this part of the country, with the exception of 
a few straggling small herds. However, it never was such 
a buffalo range as those in western Nebraska and Kansas, 
along the Republican and South Platte rivers. 

"It was through this wild section of Wyoming, now 
teeming with inhabitants, dotted with fine towns and pro- 
ducing millions of gallons of oil yearly, that Jack Hunton, 
still hale and hearty, and his hardy band of bullwhackers 
hauled the provisions for the soldiers, either from Cheyenne 
or Medicine Bow. 

"These are some of the men who were on Mr. Hunton's 
payroll: Malcolm Campbell, wagon boss; Nate Williams, 
wagon boss; Ed Smith, blacksmith; Clem Ward, Enoch 
Berry, Frank Lacey, Dave Lord, William McDonald, Monroe 
Keeler, Sim Wain and the writer. 

"During one winter, 1874-5, Mr. Hunton built a couple 
of hewn log houses on LaPrelle Creek about six miles south 
of Fort Fetterman and ranged his bulls in the vicinity. He 
also built a blacksmith shop and made a charcoal pit. This 
'settlement' was the first and the only one at that time near- 
er than Medicine Bow, across the ranges and the rivers and 
plains of the same name. For a time he supplied the fire- 
wood for Fort Fetterman. Some of it — pine — was cut in 
the range of hills south of the fort, probably twenty-five 
miles, and hauled to the post by the men mentioned above. 
A considerable quantity of standing dead cottonwood and 
box elder was also cut along La Bonte and other creeks by 
men who received four dollars a cord. These woodchoppers 
were also bullwhackers and two or three discharged soldiers 
who were waiting for spring to come so they could travel 
across the ranges to the railroad. 

"One woodchopper who stayed alone in the hills one 
spring after the contract had been completed, was killed 
by the Indians and his body literally filled with arrows. It 
was terribly disfigured and he was scalped, of course. His 
name was Jesse Hammond, an elderly man. The body was 
found in the early part of the summer following and given 
a decent burial, I believe, in the military cemetery or near 
by at Fort Fetterman. 

"Roving bands of Sioux frequently came across the 
North Platte to the forbidden territory, to steal horses be- 
longing to Mr. Hunton and commit other depredations, but 
it was generally understood that they had no particular 


desire to fool with the bullwhackers at a range short of ten 
or twenty thousand yards, for the bullwhacker had no com- 
punction about passing* out the lead. Therefore, they did 
not commit a great many depredations along LaPrelle 

"An Indian calling himself Jules Seminoe, who had, it 
was said, some French-Canadian blood in his veins, came to 
Hunton's log house one day, aboard the usual scrubby pony. 
He was alone and looking for whiskey. One of Hunton's 
men had a bottle and Seminoe was allowed — in fact, urged 
— to drink all he wanted, and he was soon lying on his back 
on the earthen floor, moaning in fairly good English : 

" 'I'm a dying calf! I'm a dying calf!' repeating it over 
and over while his eyeballs rolled and he retched with 

"It is doubtful if Mr. Hunton was ever made aware of 
this occurrence and the impression is strong with me that 
he was not in the neighborhood at the time. It was not a 
common thing for Hunton's men to possess whiskey or to 
drink it, except at the southern ends of the trails and there 
were no duties to perform. Then it was different, and Mc- 
Daniels or Jack Allen played the part that the bullwhackers 
played on the poor half-breed and it was the bullwhackers 
who were the 'lost sheep.' 

"However, instead of groaning that they were 'dying 
calves,' they whooped it up on the streets to the delight of 
everyone, including the newly-arrived tenderfoot, who was 
waiting for the show. The authorities were always very 
lenient, and unless there was destruction of property or 
assault the boys were allowed to work off their pent up bile. 
Sooner or later they were back in camp with empty pocket- 
books and sore heads. 

"There were two bars in Tillotson's sutler store — one 
for officers, the other for white citizens and buck soldiers. 
The officers didn't care to rub elbows with the bullwhackers 
and at this distant period it doesn't seem so serious a slight 
as it did then, for there was a great contrast in appearance 
between the men who faced the blizzards, forded the streams 
and ducked the obsidian and flint arrows of the Sioux, to 
haul flour, bacon, coffee, etc., across the uninhabited plains 
and mountains to the 'jumping-off place,' and the well 
dressed, clean-shaven officers — between Major Kane, for 
instance, and Sim Wain or some other bullwhacker, who 
wore a pair of elkskin breeches, a greasy sombrero, a buck- 
skin shirt and a belt with two revolvers, forty rounds of 
ammunition and a butcher knife with a ten-inch blade ! 


"While the bullwhacker was surely a picturesque look- 
ing character, he was of necessity untidy, whether it suited 
his fancy or not. On the other hand, the army officer at 
old Fort Fetterman was as slick and neat as he was the day 
he left West Point. 

"The officers were not very friendly with the bull- 
whackers and while most all of the former drank hard liquor 
— some of them excessively — they watched the bullwhack- 
ers who came out of the post sutler's with jealous eyes, so 
a crooked step— hardly a stagger — meant a trip to the 
guard house. 

"There was no semblance of civil law north of Medicine 
Bow and not much of it there or anywhere else except at 
Cheyenne and Laramie City. The military was all-powerful. 
There were none other than the belligerent-looking bull- 
whacker for an army officer to experiment upon, conse- 
quently at least one of the men who whacked bulls for John 
Hunton, and who innocently crossed a forbidden spot on the 
parade ground, takes this opportunity to forgive Major 
Kane for the indignity heaped upon him by ordering him 
thrown into the guardhouse and kept there until several 
days later on a diet of sour bread and plain water from 
LaPrelle creek and which came from a mysterious hand that 
pushed it in a tin receptacle through a small apperture at 
the bottom of a heavily barred door. 

"It may be worth recording here that this indignity 
was suffered by Wain and others, so many others in fact, 
that finally they got together up creek and determined upon 
reprisals of various sorts. Think of it! The plans were 
made as Indians made theirs. The first uniformed man 
caught alone away from the fort was to be tied to a tree and 
flogged ; one of the plotters was to creep up the hill to the 
stacks of hay on the south side of the fort and strike a 
match; Indians, if they came across the ford, were to be 
encouraged to stampede the mule herd ! 

"But beyond glaring at one another for a year or two, 
there were no clashes between the bullwhackers and the of- 
ficers or private soldiers. It was too one-sided. The mili- 
tary had the upper hand. Nevertheless, a lot of hatred was 
engendered by the rough treatment accorded the few citi- 
zens who ventured on to the reservation. 

"There should have been the harmony and co-operation 
always encouraged by that great soldier, General Custer, 
who above all other military men of his day, was on friendly 
terms with the bullwhackers. They were the only citizens 
in the country at the time he visited Fort Fetterman to look 


over the ground for the Sioux campaign that resulted in his 
death in June, 1876. 

'Tort Fetterman was built on a hill. Beyond, to the 
west and north, and southward to Medicine Bow, the coun- 
try was in its virgin state. The hands that held the quirt, 
the plow, the drill, in the order given, were yet to advance 
to this land of promise. There wasn't even a dream of a 

"If men now living in Wyoming who came to it at a 
later day, after the fence came and the church and the 
school supplanted the tepee and the railroad and the auto- 
mobile replaced the ox and his yoke, and the bullwhacker 
became as rare a bird as the imaginary dodo, could have 
known it as some of us did, they would better understand 
and appreciate it. 

"They would insist upon a record of its rough and ready 
beginning that would be complete and authentic and pride 
themselves upon its achievement. They would insist upon 
the possession by the state, of a historical record second to 
none in the matter of completeness and authenticity, for 
no state in the Union is more worthy of it, none has a his- 
tory of greater interest to posterity. 

"All that is left of the cabin is the east wall of clay 
that supported the logs where they were under the earth. 
The front part of the cabin — about half of it — protruded, 
and the fireplace was in the rear, the chimney coming up 
to the level of the sod of the upland through which an irri- 
gation ditch has been built. A telephone line and a fairly 
well used trail are a few feet in the rear of the site. The 
stones used in the fireplace and chimney, and as steps going 
up from near LaBonte Creek, are scattered all about. 

This site still is in a wild place, and if it were not pos- 
sible to see Mr. Diltz' ranch house and other buildings 
across the creek a half mile away, one would imagine him- 
self in the wilderness when standing in front of the site, 
for beaver are building a dam within a few ro'ds of the 
marker, having freshly gnawed two good sized trees pre- 
paratory to felling them across the creek. These trees grew 
many years after I left the neighborhood. When I lived 
there beaver did not build dams, but lived in the creek em- 
bankments. But now that the water is used for irrigation 
purposes, I suppose the beaver need more room and so are 
building dams. I once told the late Enos Mills about this 
and he was very much interested in it; that is, I told him 
that when I lived there there were lots of beaver but no 


dams, and he said that he knew of only one other place of 
the kind." 

Very truly, 

(Signed) BILL HOOKER. 


Route No. 1 
Lake Beulah, Wis. 

July 26, 1930. 
Mrs. Cyrus Beard, 
State Historian, 
Cheyenne, Wyoming. 
Dear Mrs. Beard : 

Perhaps you would like a word or two from me in shape 
of a letter to accompany the report you make of the placing 
of the two markers on the site of my cabin built in the early 
fall of 1874 on La Bonte Creek. 

I was one of the party that went to the cabin site with 
Mr. R. S. Ellison, chairman of the memorial monument com- 
mission, Mr. L. P. Bishop, secretary of the Wyoming Pioneer 
Association, Malcolm Campbell, old time bullwhacker with 
whom I was associated in freighting in Wyoming, W. H. 
Jackson, distinguished artist and explorer, Mr. Barber, New 
York director of the Oregon Trail Association, and others, 
to put up a marker containing my name and date and the 
carving of a little cabin. This 200-pound granite block was 
rolled into place and Mr. Bishop, who is a surveyor and pos- 
sessed of considerable artistic talent, soon completed the 
job of cutting name, letters and a picture into the face of 
the rock that will stay there, he says, for 500 years or more. 

The site of this old cabin is included in a 28,000-acre 
ranch owned by Fred W. Dirts, but was originally known 
as the Pollard ranch. It is about three miles from the old 
Oregon Trail. 

It was easy for me to pilot the party to the site, for 
there were many topographical features of the surround- 
ing country that have not materially changed in 58 years, 
especially mentioning a sagebrush hill near at hand that I 
regularly mounted every morning to scan the horizon in all 
directions to discover the smoke of Indian camps, should 
there be any, and to look for tracks (moccasin or otherwise) 
within a circle of several hundred yards. 

To date there is much of the old flavor of the wilder- 
ness near the site, for beaver have gnawed nearly through 
two large trees that grew since I lived there, preparatory 


to felling them across the stream. And while we were there 
one of the party killed a big, fat rattler, and I was sorry be- 
cause he, too, was an old timer and, I believe, entitled to 
participate in the ceremonies in a far more happy manner. 

But what I desire most to say, and have included in 
your precious records, is this: 

For a long time I have been in rather feeble health; 
but the moment I reached Wyoming I found what doctors 
have been unable to supply, viz: the purest, sweetest ozone 
in the world, in a state where the skies are clear, the water 
first class — out where the handclasp is firm, out where the 
smile is genuine, out where the hearts beat true, out where 
real men and real women live, not only for themselves but 
for others. 

All of this invigorated me, giving me the spirit and 
vigor of my youth, and the result was I dissipated for three 
weeks by sitting up until midnight, talking over those glori- 
ous pioneer days with other trail blazers, ate like a farm 
hand, slept well, perspired freely — something I hadn't done 
in five years, tramped through fields of sagebrush, climbed 
hills, rode several hundred miles in an automobile over trails 
that we once toiled over with our slow moving bulls. 

I want all the old timers to know that I consider my 
return visit to Wyoming, where I lived in territorial days, 
meeting some of my old pals, and visiting the scenes of 
many of our early adventures, made up the great event of 
my life. 

Sincerely yours, 

(Signed) BILL HOOKER. 


On July 5, 1859, the Ev. Lutheran Synod of Iowa and 
Other States sent out Missionaries Schmidt, Braeuninger 
and Doederlein with Messrs. Seyler, Beck and Bunge as 
helpers, as missionaries to the Crow Indians. The party 
left St. Sebald, Clayton County, Iowa, and late in the fall 
arrived at Deer Creek. On arriving at Deer Creek they 
were greatly disappointed to learn that no Crow Indians 
had been seen in that region since the previous summer. 
Two of the men, Missionaries Schmidt and Doederlein re- 
turned to Iowa in December to gather additional funds and 
supplies. Of the other four men, Captain Raynolds wrote 
as follows: "When we arrived at Deer Creek we found at 
the Indian Agency, the Rev. Mr. Bryinger (sic) and three 
companions, on their way to establish a mission among the 


^"^' J 


Crows. They were German Lutherans, and had been sent 
out by the German Evangelical Synod of Iowa. God fear- 
ing and devoted men, but ignorant of the world as well as 
of our language, and in consequence poorly fitted for the 
labors they had undertaken. They had started so late in 
the season that winter had overtaken them at this point. 
Their means were exhausted and they were awaiting funds 
from their friends in Iowa to enable them to prosecute their 

"I have the satisfaction of believing that I was instru- 
mental in enabling them to pass a more comfortable winter 
than would otherwise have been their lot, and also of en- 
abling them to continue the prosecution of their undertak- 
ing in the spring, though they never were permitted to reach 
their destination. 

"Mr. Bryninger(sic) and his companions left Deer 
Creek a few days before we left our winter quarters, pro- 
posing to establish their headquarters near the lower canon 
of the Big Horn River . . . After my return to civil- 
ization, the authorities of the Synod under which they were 
acting refunded to me in full the small advance I had made 
to the party." (1) 

It was while wintering here at Deer Creek that a 
Christmas celebration took place that is without doubt the 
first celebration of such a character in what is now the 
State of Wyoming. All the necessary decorations had been 
brought along from Iowa. On the Wednesday before Christ- V 
mas, a tree was brought in from one of the bluffs, four 
or five miles distant, and the decorations were put in place. 
But the story is best told by one of the missionaries who, 
in February of 1860, wrote to his Iowa friends as follows : 
" ... At seven o'clock in the evening everything was 
ready. But we thought we were to be disappointed, as our 
invited guests, Major Twiss* and family and Dejer(sic) 
and his people had already gone to bed. However, Rever- 
end Braeuninger went again to one of the members of the 
expedition and as a result brought with him several Indians 
and children as well as members of the expedition. They 
were all exceedingly glad when they saw the tree with 
its decorations. One man, a lieutenant, stated again and 
again as his confession of faith, 'Glory to God in the high- 
est, and on earth, peace, good will toward men/ Really it 
was a great joy to me to see the man thus. Then we sang 
'Von Himmel Hoch da Komm ich Her.' Missionary Braeun- 
inger read the Christmas gospel in German and Captain 
Raynolds read it in English. These two men also played 

(1) BVt. Brig. Gen. W. F. Raynolds, Exploration of the Yellowstone River. 


several selections. Reverend Braeuninger played the violin 
and Captain Raynolds the flute. Next we distributed to 
the assembled Indians gifts from the first Christmas tree 
in the territory of Nebraska. The lieutenant, already re- 
ferred to, who spoke the language of the Indians very well, 
told the Indians that these gifts were from the Great Spirit 
and that these missionaries had been sent by Him. One 
of the Indian squaws, in a most naive manner, asked why 
the Great Spirit, while he was at it, did not send full sacks 
of sugar and flour. Why such small amounts? Finally 
we gave the Indians some bread and coffee and then dis- 
missed the assembly ... On the evening of Christmas 
day, various members of the expedition came in. They 
sang in the English language while we sang in German 

. . . Everyone had a good time and enjoyed himself 

. • r (2) 

In the spring of 1860, one of the men, Mr. Bunge, 
returned to civilization while the other three, under the 
leadership of Reverend Braeuninger, established their mis- 
sion station on the Powder River. But on July 21, 1860, 
Reverend Braeuninger was murdered by Indians and as a 
result the other two men returned to Deer Creek. The 
Iowa Synod, however, continued in its efforts to carry on 
missionary work among the Crows as well as among other 
tribes until the summer of 1864, (3) when the Indian wars 
of that year forced the abandonment of the enterprise. 
While this missionary attempt ended in a failure, it is, 
nevertheless, this group of men who held the first Christian 
Christmas celebration in what is now the State of Wyoming. 

Henry F. Staack, 

Augustana College, 

Rock Island. 111. 

(2) Translated from the German in the Kirchenblatt, Vol. 3, No. 2, p. 1. 

(3) Deindoerfer, J. Geschichte der Evangel Luth Synode von Iowa Und 
Andercn Staaten, p. 64. 



Thomas S. Twiss was born in South Carolina and admitted 
to the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York, 
as a Cadet from South Carolina and was graduated from that insti- 
tution; was commissioned a second lieutenant in the United States 
Army, served, and was advanced to the rank of Major. He resigned 
from the United States Army and was appointed United States 
Indian Agent at the Upper Platte Agency (Deer Creek, Wyoming). 
His commission as Agent expired with Buchanan's administration. 
At the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861, Major Twiss offered his 


services to President Lincoln but they were declined because of his 

It is said that Major Twiss had several Indian wives and that 
he passed his life in the hills north of Fort Laramie — no one knew 
just where. Captain Eugene E. Ware who was Post Adjutant at 
Fort Laramie in 1864 describes Major Twiss as "an old gentleman 
whose hair, long, white and curly, hung down over his shoulders, 
and down his back. He had a very venerable white beard and 
moustache. His beard had been trimmed with scissors so that it 
was rather long, but pointed, Van Dyke fashion, below the chin. He 
was dressed thoroughly as an Indian. He wore nothing on his head 
and had on a pair of beaded moccasins. He sat on one of the benches 
in front of the Sutler store, having in his hand a cane, staff fashion, 
about six feet long. On this occasion he was accompanied by "several 
squaws very finely dressed in macinaw blankets." 

(From records in Wyoming State Historical Department. See 
also Annals of Wyoming, Volume 7, Number 1, Page 349.) 

Green River, Wyo., 
Sept. 14, 1929. 
My Dear Mrs. Beard : 

I am enclosing- a copy of the "Story of the First Shot" 
fired under the American flag in the World War, written 
by Capt. I. R. McLendon who gave the command to fire 
this first shot. 

Capt. McLendon was very severely wounded in October, 
1918 and was a patient in my ward, as he had a broken 
jaw and his face and mouth were so badly injured he was 
unable to talk, he wrote the enclosed story for me. 
With best personal regards, I am 

Sincerely yours, 

(Signed) Mary S. Logan. 


By Capt. I. R. McLendon, Field Artillery, U. S. Army 

The Sixth Field Artillery left its border station, Doug- 
las, Ariz., on July 22, 1917, bound for Hoboken, N. J., reach- 
ing the latter place just one week later, we went aboard 
the ship "Henry R. Mallery," an American coastwise steam- 
er. We left New York harbor at 2:30 A. M., on the morn- 
ing of July 29th, 1917. 

The voyage across was very slow and uneventful. 
There were three troop-ships in our convoy, carrying the 
5th, 6th and 7th regiments of Field Artillery, and we were 
accompanied by the Cruiser "North Carolina" and several 
destroyers. These three regiments later formed the "First 
Field Artillery Brigade" and was the artillery of the First 
Division, A. E. F. We landed at St. Nazaire, on the 13th 
of August. 


Four or five clays were spent in camp just outside 
St. Nazaire, permitting the men to get over the ill effects 
of the ocean trip. We then entrained and started for our 
training camp, which was at Valdahon, very near the Swiss 
border. Our trip took us through the very heart of France, 
passing through the cities of Nontes, Saumar, Tours, Nevers, 
Dijon and Besancon, and we saw on the route some of the 
finest scenery of France. 

About two months were spent by the First Artillery 
Brigade in training at Valdahon. This was necessary due 
to our adopting French guns and ammunition, and all of- 
ficers and men had to be made thoroughly familiar with 
the operation and care of the French guns. The week days 
were taken up with actual firing on the Artillery Target 
Range, and with classes for instruction in every depart- 
ment of artillery work. These classes were all conducted 
by trained and experienced French Officers who had spent 
a considerable time with troops at the Front, and they 
were attended by all the officers and enlisted men of the 
Brigade. Certain officers and enlisted men were selected 
for special training in some lines of work, but attendance 
at some class was compulsory upon everyone. 

Beyond a doubt, the days spent at Valdahon will be 
looked back upon by the men of the First Brigade as the 
most pleasant spent during their whole stay in France. The 
men were housed in new up-to-date stone barracks. Every- 
one had a spring bunk with a mattress and pillow and 
plenty of blankets, clothing and good food. We were in 
a section where there were plenty of vegetables, fruits and 
fresh meats, also wines and beer. We were the first Amer- 
icans ever seen in that country and the French received us 
literally with open arms. 

Fruits and drinkables were to be had by the men 
everywhere, almost for the asking. The weather was still 
fine and agreeable. Besides being a picturesque locality 
itself, our camp was about midway between the valleys 
of the Loire and Doub rivers, both famous for their scenery. 
These two rivers joined at the City of Besancon, about 20 
miles from Valdahon. Besancon was one of the old gar- 
rison towns of Julius Caesar during his conquest of Gaul, 
and is today one of the prettiest and most interesting towns 
I have seen in France. Our men had their Saturday after- 
noons and Sundays to themselves and the great majority 
of them took full advantage of their opportunities for seeing 
places of interest and beauty. 

It was natural that the time at Valdahon should seem 
short to us, and although we were eager to get to the 
Front, there was many a sigh of regret when we got orders 


to leave, about the 18th of October. Just a couple of days 
previous to this I had been given command of Battery "C" 
of the 6th Regiment, its former Commander Capt. B. R. 
Peyton having been detailed as an instructor at one of the 
artillery schools which the American Army was establish- 
ing at various camps. I had orders to leave Valdahon at 
6:00 P. M., Friday, the 18th and march to Besancon where 
I was to begin entraining at midnight. Our march and the 
work of loading on the train was without special incident 
except that shortly after the train pulled out we discovered 
that our mascot "Mutts" had been lost. Mutts was a bull- 
dog who had been in Battery "C" of the 6th Field Artillery 
longer than any soldier in the Battery. This was not the 
first or the last time she had been lost, but as usual she 
showed up several days after we reached the Front, hav- 
ing gotten aboard a train with a battery of the 7th Field 
Artillery, who followed us. 

We detrained at Jarr, a little village 2 or 3 miles east 
of Nancy and marched several miles to the town of St. 
Nicholas. This latter place was to be our echelon, or sup- 
ply depot, while we were at the Front. Here all of our 
horses, wagons, and supplies of all kinds were kept, while 
the four guns and about 50 men for battery were in the 
firing line about 10 miles away. Supplies and new men were 
sent up to the Front from the rear as called for. 

The position occupied by Battery "C" in the firing line 
was just outside the village of Bathelement. Of course, 
the whole front was held by the French, the American 
batteries being put in the line and placed under command 
of the French, solely for instruction and a taste of real 
experience with the Hun. One of our batteries was attached 
to each French Battalion, and we were completely under 
the orders of the French Major in command, our own 
majors and colonels being attached to the higher French 
staffs for observation and study. Nothing could have 
pleased the American officers more than this. In the first 
place we had the utmost confidence in the French, and 
firmly believed that what they didn't know about the war 
game wasn't much. Secondly the French manner of com- 
manding and exercising authority was radically different 
from the American. I have always noticed that the French 
officer secured implicit obedience and full co-operation from 
those beneath him without at the same time antagonizing 
and disgusting them. My commanding officer at Bathele- 
ment was Major Roger Villers, commanding the 2nd Bat- 
tallion of the 33rd Regiment of French Light Artillery. He 
was a Parisian, a small, dark man, running over with "pep 
and vim," as we say, and personally as courteous, genial 


and hospitable a man as I have ever known. The two weeks 
I spent at Bathelement under Major Villers will always 
live in my memory as the happiest of my whole stay in 

I went up to Bathelement on Monday morning the sec- 
ond day after our arrival at St. Nicholas, taking about 40 
men all armed to the teeth with digging tools. Major 
Villers went out with me and showed me the place he had 
selected for my battery emplacement. It was an old French 
position which the Huns had shelled so heavily that it had 
to be abandoned about six months before. Since that time 
it had been deserted, full of small craters, with dugouts 
caved in and littered with broken logs. It was the Major's 
scheme to put only one gun in this position and the other 
there in new emplacements to be dug about 200 yards 
further to the rear among some trees. The three guns in 
the rear were to be kept concealed as well as possible and 
would fire only in case of enemy attack. The one gun in 
the old position would do the daily firing for harrassing 
and annoying the Hun — and of course would receive a good 
pounding in return as soon as the Hun learned that the 
place was occupied again. I set my men to work on the 
pit for the first gun, filling the craters, reconstructing 
the dugouts and buildings a platform and shelter for the 
gun. There was no need to hustle the men, every man 
knew that the crews of other batteries were rushing the 
work on their positions, and every one of my men was in- 
tensely eager to get our gun in position and be the first 
to fire a shot at the Hun. 

During the day one of our guns had been brought up 
from the rear and left in the village. By night, work had 
progressed so far on the gun emplacement that I believed 
we might be ready to fire sometime next day. Although 
all horses had been sent back after the gun had arrived, 
the men were all enthusiastic and eager to pull the gun into 
place that night, It was a back-breaking job, but we did 
it. Through mud and slush knee deep, across a field thickly 
peppered with big shell holes, then up a steep clay hill, we 
tugged and strained at the ropes and wheels, every officer 
and man eager to help wherever he could get ahold. It 
was two hours of the kind of work of which we were to 
get more than our fill in the months of hiking and fighting 
which we were to get later. 

I reported to Major Villers that the gun was in position 
and that with a little more work on the gun platform I'd 
be ready to fire. Ammunition had been ordered up from 
the rear, and I expected to begin war on the Hun next day. 
I had underestimated, however, the difficulties of building 


tattery emplacements. It took my mechanics all of the 
next day, working their hardest, to complete the protecting 
walls and shelter over the gun. To add to my misery, the 
ammunition had not showed up. 

So on the night of this day (22nd) I took my troubles 
to Major Villers. I told him of the race that was being run 
between the different batteries for the honor of opening 
the big fight for Uncle Sam. And like the gallant little 
Frenchman that he was, he came to my rescue by having 
24 shells taken from one of the French batteries over to 
mine. Moreover, he told me to open fire on the Hun next 
morning when ready. I told him I was ready then, and 
that all I wanted was just a few minutes of daylight. I 
had it announced to my men that we would fire at daylight 
next morning. 

There was no bugle-call, no waiting on breakfast, no 
late sleepers next day. They were all at the battery wait- 
ing for the first peep of day, every officer, every man, and 
Lieutenant Domine of Major Viller's staff, were present. 
The gun was loaded and directed upon its target — a German 
battery — and as the last shades of night disappeared before 
the coming day, I gave the command "Fire" and Sergeant 
Alex Arch, of South Bend, Ind., nulled the lungard of the 
piece and sent the first shot flying into Germany. I 
looked at mv wrist watch, it was 6:05 A. M., the 23rd day 
of October, 1917. 

The remainder of the 24 shells loaned to us by the 
French were all fired, the various members of the gun 
crew acting as gunners, and taking a crack at the wicked 
Hun. Several of the shots were fired into a party of German 
soldiers at work in some trenches. One of my lieutenants 
who had been on the lookout at an observation post (con- 
nected with the battery by telephone) had spotted them 
and they were quickly scattered and flying. 

I immediately made report to Divisional Artillery Head- 
auarters at Einville that Battery "C" of the 6th had opened 
fire at 6:05 A. M. Some one told me afterwards that the 
news was received by the French and American officers 
stationed there, with loud cheers, followed almost immedi- 
ately by the loud popping of corks ! ! I can't vouch for this, 
though I wouldn't be sursprised if it were so. 

The infantry of our own Division had not yet gone into 
the trenches. The much vaunted Marines who had come 
over early in the year had not yet seen the Front. Up to 
this time not even a pistol or rifle shot had been fired at 
the Hun by Americans fighting under their own flag. So 
the honor of firing the first actual shot at the Hun falls 
to the Field Artillery. Battery "C's" nearest rival in the 


race for this honor apparently belongs to a battery of 
the six-inch guns, which opened fire about nine o'clock the 
same morning. Several other batteries of the First Brigade 
fired in this day. Late that afternoon a messenger came 
with an order from Major Gen. Sibert, our Division Com- 
mander, directing that the shell cases of the first eight 
shots fired be sent to his headquarters, where they were 
to be forwarded to America for presentation. I heard later 
that the first one was presented to the President. 

Our stay at the Front lasted two weeks which were 
quiet and without special incident, except for the last night 
of our stay. At 2:30 A. M., on the night of November 2nd- 
3rd, the Huns raided the trenches of our infantry. Several 
of our men were captured, several wounded and three lost 
their lives (Gresham, Enright and Hay — ?) the first Amer- 
icans to die in France fighting under their own flag. The 
gun which fired the first shot also took part in the bombard- 
ment which the French and American batteries turned upon 
the Hun raiding party this night. At dusk on the after- 
noon of November 3rd," we pulled our guns from their em- 
placements, told our French comrades goodby, and began 
the hike for Ribeaucourt, a little village in the Gondrecourt 
billeting area where we were to undergo a long spell of in- 
tensive training. 

I won't attempt to give even a faint idea of our ex- 
perience during this spell of training. I should say, how- 
ever, that the first gun stayed with us until after our next 
tour of duty at the front was completed in the Seicheprey 
sector, north of Toul. Then about the middle of April, as 
we were encamped near Toul, and overhauling all our equip- 
ment preparatory to entraining for Picardy where the 
Germans had been making a drive, orders were received 
to take the first gun to an arsenal near Toul and exchange 
it for another. There it was dismounted, boxed, and shipped 
to the States. I am told that it assisted in raising one of 
the Liberty Loans after which it was placed on exhibition 
in the Ordnance Museum of the West Point Military Acad- 
emy, where it stands at the present writing. 

Written for my nurse, Miss Mary L. Swan, Salt Lake 
City, Utah. 
Base Hospital 67 
Mesves, France, 
Thanksgiving Day, 1918. 

An Index for Volumes 3, 4, 5, and 6 of Annals of 
Wyoming is now in the office of the State Historian and 
will be published as early as there are funds to do so. 



By His Daughter (1928) 

In the days when our sturdy and staunch forefathers 
left the shores of England to sail in tiny ships across the 
Atlantic and make for themselves new homes in the wilder- 
ness of America, they commenced a journey which would 
be continued westward by their descendants for over two 
hundred years. Their first new world settlements founded 
on the coast of New England and hemmed in by unknown 
miles, were the beginnings of a great nation. Following 
generations, facing the setting sun, made their way be- 
yond the mountain barriers, pausing only long enough to 
start the building of communities soon to become united 
as sovereign states, then advancing into the Great Lake 
region and crowding the shores of the Father of Waters. 
Soon after this, their feet were marking out the weary 
miles which lead to the Rockies and to the Pacific — the 
Pacific which spelled the end of their journey and a con- 
tinent won. 

The direct ancestral line of Dr. Edward Day Woodruff, 
the subject of this sketch, begins with Matthew (1) Wood- 
ruff who came from England before 1640 to settle in Farm- 
ington, Connecticut, as an Original Proprietor. This Mat- 
thew (1) Woodruff and his wife, Hannah had a son Mat- 
thew (2) Jr. who married Mary, daughter of John Plum, 
listed in Colonial records as one of the first men to locate 
at Weathersfield — then Watertown — Connecticut in 1635. 
In turn, Matthew (2) and Mary Plum Woodruff were the 
parents of John (3). He resided in Milford, Connecticut, 
and his wife was Mary Piatt, a granddaughter of Richard, 
who came to America from the Old Country in 1639 and 
located in Milford in 1639. To John (3) and Mary Piatt 
Woodruff was born John (4) Woodruff Jr., who likewise 
made his home in Milford and whose wife, Sarah Baldwin 
was a descendant of Sylvester Baldwin — the Sylvester who 
died at sea in 1638 while en route to this country from 
England. The youngest son of John (4) and Sarah Bald- 
win Woodruff was Jonah (5). Jonah (5) chose Mabel, 
daughter of Abraham Adams, for his helpmate and Water- 
bury, Connecticut, for his place of residence. His oldest 
son was named Philo (6). It was soon after 1825 — probably 
in 1826 or 27 — that Philo (6) and his wife, Lucy Tuttle 
Woodruff found the beckoning lure of newly opened path- 
ways too strong to be resisted. They moved from their home 
near Waterbury, Connecticut, to Windsor, Broome County, 


New York, where they purchased a large farm bordering 
on the lovely Susquehanna River. Now of the eleven child- 
ren of Philo (6) and Lucy Tuttle Woodruff, one had passed 
away, nine made the journey to New York state with their 
parents, but a son named John (7) who had been appren- 
ticed to a tailor for seven years, was left behind in Water- 
bury to finish his education along that line. This was a 
situation which naturally did not appeal to John (7). The 
loneliness of the separation from his immediate family 
could not be assuaged by the presence of other relatives 
or friends. The necessity of acquiring a trade — especially 
under a master workman who took advantage of the ab- 
sence of John's parents to be most unkind to his young ap- 
prentice — seemed as nothing compared to the need for 
sharing the family fortunes in a newer country. Accord- 
ingly, one night John (7) tied his most prized possessions 
into a bundle, dropped them from his window, followed 
after them with all caution, and started on his journey 
westward to rejoin his loved ones. He traveled the entire 
distance from Waterbury, Connecticut, to Windsor, New 
York, on foot. At this time John (7) was thirteen, or 
possibly fourteen years of age. As a consequence of this 
early pioneering John (7) grew up in Windsor and event- 
ually was married there to Lucinda Mariah Dimick, a des- 
cendant of sturdy New England ancestors bearing such 
well known names as Russell and Hotchkiss. In the spring 
of 1849, John (7) and Lucinda Mariah Dimick Woodruff 
decided to join the throng of emigation that was pressing 
ever onward. They left their home in Windsor, New York, 
and with their five children, the eldest being twelve years 
of age and the youngest but a year and a half old, went 
northward to the Erie Canal where they boarded a tow 
boat whose destination was Buffalo. At Buffalo they em- 
barked on a steamer — a side wheeler — to make the trip ac- 
cross the Great Lakes with Kanosha — then South Port — 
Wisconsin, as their goal. From Kanosha the remainder 
of the journey was overland in wagons to Bonus, on Bonus 
Prairie, in Boone County, Illinois, the location that had been 
chosen for the building of their new mid-continent, or as 
it was to them, western home. The first member of the 
family to claim Illinois as their birthplace was the son born 
to John (7) and Lucinda Mariah Dimick Woodruff at Bonus 
(in Boone County) on September 24th, 1850. This son 
was named Edward Day Woodruff (8). 

The struggles of a pioneering community encompassed 
the boyhood days of Edward Day Woodruff (8). His 
father John (7) acquired a farm, and later purchased a 


store which was moved to a corner of this property facing 
the main street. The store building also sheltered the 
post office. (Mr. Woodruff was postmaster there for over 
twenty-five years and the mail was at first distributed from 
his home.) There was very little money in circulation and 
small opportunity to earn any. Crops could not always 
be depended upon. Everything necessary for home con- 
sumption from candles to soap and sox had to be made by 
each individual household and even the work of very young 
hands aided in making easier the task of living. Among 
the vivid memories of Edward Day Woodruff (8) is the 
picture of his father and mother sewing by candle light, 
after their day's work was done, on the clothing necessary 
to cover their large family. No wonder the advent of 
the first oil lamp ("fluid lamp" as it was called) and the 
first crude sewing machine was a cause of rejoicing in the 
household. But if there was more than enough work to 
go around, there was also compensating pleasure. Luscious 
wild strawberries hid in the grass, fish lured one to the 
streams, while nuts grew in abundance in the woods. The 
little red school house where lessons were learned, was 
also where spelling bees and singing schools held forth. 
However, the best of all the compensations came in after 
years with the realization that these early efforts had been 
part and parcel in the building of a great epoch. 

The fine Americanism which had always been inher- 
ent in the family thought and instinct, was fanned into 
active patriotism during Civil War times. There was the 
excitement when neighbors gathered to discuss what father, 
John (7), had to report concerning the Lincoln-Douglas 
debates which he had gone to Freeport to hear. There 
was the interest in the editorials which Mr. Brockway (a 
brother-in-law of Edward Day Woodruff) published in his 
Belvidere paper, the "Boone County Independent." Meet- 
ings — campaign songs — a southern sympathizer in the 
vicinity who proclaimed his sentiments until indignation 
was intense — and in May of 1861 an older brother who 
marched away to war, the first man from Boone County 
to enlist at Lincoln's earliest call for troops. Of course, 
brother Dwight also tried to enlist but was too young to 
be successful. In 1863 the government, preparatory to a 
draft, appointed father John (7) Woodruff, enrolling of- 
ficer for his home county and part of an adjoining county, 
his duties being to see personally, question and enroll every 
man over eighteen in his district. Edward Day Woodruff 
(8) doing his young best to help keep the home fires burn- 
ing during all this period, had his Republicanism so firmly 


stamped into his heart and mind that it ever afterwards 
was part of his faith and creed. 

Immediately following the lifting of the war clouds, 
Edward Day (8) lost his chum and playmate. His brother 
John Dwight, some two years and nine months older than 
himself, in an effort to check threatening tuberculosis, left 
for Colorado in the train of a neighbor who was driving 
west. This was a trial, for while to John Dwight, the sad- 
ness of leaving home was mingled with the joy of antici- 
pated adventure, to Edward Day was both the loneliness of 
interrupted companionship and the g : loom of remaining 

In 1869 Edward Day Woodruff (8) finished his district 
schooling, was examined for his fitness to teach and the 
following winter, had charge of a school in a Norwegian 
settlement north of Bonus. The spring of 1870 he obtained 
a job as an axeman, at $35 a month and board, in a survey- 
ing party going out for the St. Louis Iron Mountain and 
Southern Railroad, to make the preliminary surveys for 
its contemplated line through Missouri and Arkansas. By 
his study and diligence, young Woodruff soon advanced 
from his first position and eventually became one of the 
engineers for the road. He covered the entire length of 
this road from its beginning in Missouri through to Tex- 
arkana, Texas, on the original survey, in establishing the 
permanent grades, and again covered the same ground 
while in charge of actual construction work on several divi- 
sions. This was during the Reconstruction Days which im- 
mediately followed the Civil War period in the south and 
the many experiences encountered in those years, though 
too long and varied to repeat here, were intensely inter- 
esting. The panic of 1873 put an end to all railroad build- 
ing. About the same time, Edward Day Woodruff (8) was 
crippled by a severe attack of inflammatory rheumatism, 
due doubtless to malaria contracted in the southern swamps, 
and was ordered home by his doctor. 

The next decision to influence his life is best told in 
his own words: "At last my rheumatism was better. I 
was able to hobble out in the yard and sit in a swing we 
had there, but my knees were badly crippled and I had to 
use a cane for a long time. Dr. Stowe used to come in and 
see me every two or three days, so one time I said to him, 
just joshingly, not giving a thought to my words, 

" Well, here I still sit in this swing. I'm not good for 
a civil engineer any more. I can't walk, so I guess I'll 
have to study medicine.' 


" Well sir,' he said, 'I've known you ever since you were 
a little youngster and those are the best words I ever heard 
you say.' 

"And that was the last I though of it, but the very 
next time Dr. Stowe came to the house to see me, he threw 
Gray's Anatomy and Dalton's Physiology on the table 
in front of me, and said, 

" There you are. Now get busy.' 

" ' And I did.' " 

He prepared himself for medical school and entered 
the Chicago Homeopathic Medical College in 1876. In 
1879 he was graduated with high honors and opened his 
office for the practice of medicine, on the corner of Van 
Buren and State Streets in Chicago. He, himself financed 
his entire college course from his earnings laid aside while 
in the employ of the railroad. 

I, who write this sketch am the daughter of Dr. Ed- 
ward Day Woodruff (8). So many times I have asked my 
father to relate the stories of his early Wyoming exper- 
iences and at these times I have so faithfully written down 
his own words, that it seems but right he, himself, should 
again tell the story, from this point on. 

"The first vacation I had, after leaving medical col- 
lege and establishing my practise in Chicago, was early in 
1880. Never having been east, I went up to Boston, from 
there to New York and on to Washington. But my brother 
Dwight came home very unexpectedly on a visit — his first 
visit since we had parted as boys. He telegraphed me 
that if I didn't wish to break into my vacation, he would 
follow me east, so we could see each other before he re- 
turned to his home in Wyoming again. I replied that I 
would join him in Bonus at once — which I did. 

"As soon as he saw me, Dwight began to coax me to 
come west with him. He said my ears were as thin as a 
sheet of paper — that he could see right through them and 
I needed a rest. This was true enough, though I objected 
to the idea of a prolonged absence, saying, " I've just estab- 
lished a nice little practise and I'm congratulated by all 
my class on my start here. I can't go away and leave it 
and it isn't good business to allow someone else to run the 
shop for me indefinitely," Dwight's reply was that there 
was a train headed east every twenty-four hours and all 
I had to do was to climb on board one of them whenever 
the spirit moved me to do so, but he did want me to come 
out and have a long visit with him that summer and he 
knew it would benefit me greatly. He finally persuaded me, 
and so we started west together in March of that year — 


1880. Our destination was Lander, in Wyoming Territory, 
where Dwight was living at that time. 

"Arriving in Wyoming, we laid over in Cheyenne long 
enough to each buy ourselves a fine saddle and some heavy 
woolen blankets. Then we went on to Green River where 
we left the train and took the stage. Well sir, our second 
day out, we ran into a blizzard and finally had to abandon 
our buckboard for a sleigh. It was all the horses could 
do to wade and slide and wallow along. At last Dwight 
put me down in the straw in the bottom of the sleigh and 
piled all the blankets on top of me to keep me from freez- 
ing to death. It certainly was cold. That evening we 
reached South Pass and went to Sherman's place. Dwight 
said, " 'You know, Sherman, my brother is a tenderfoot 
out in this country and if you've got any place near a stove 
where we can fix him up tonight, I'd be much obliged to 

" 'Why, sure thing. I have a boxwood stove right in 
the next room there. We'll fix you up.' 

"Sherman's place was a low rambling, disjointed sort 
of building. The top story was partly open and the snow 
could drift into it or blow through it. They built us a 
roaring fire in the great long stove — a stove almost big 
enough to hold a piece of cord wood — and we went to bed. 
As soon as things got warmed up, the snow began to melt 
and drip — drip — drip — drip through the boards overhead. 
We couldn't find any space between the down pour and we 
spent a mighty wet night of it. 

"As stated before, Lander, on the site of old Ft. Brown, 
was our destination. The six months I made my head- 
ouarters there, I boarded with Mr. and Mrs. B. F. Lowe. 
Mrs. Lowe was very kind and considerate to my comings 
and goings while Frank Lowe became my firm and re- 
spected friend. He was a splendid fellow — a good deal of 
a character, too, with a way all his own. For instance, 
Dwight came in one day after quite an absence and told 
me he and Lowe had been caught out in the hills in an 
unexpected fall of heavy, wet, blinding snow. They 
couldn' make it back to camp. They had just two matches 
between them and the wood was wet, but the only thing 
possible was to try for a fire. The first match went out. 
Lowe straightened up from where he was crouching over 
their fire-to-be and said, 

"'God, do you want me? If you do — you just blow 
out this last match and you've got me.' 


"At that time Mr. and Mrs. Lowe had an adopted 
daughter living with them — an Indian girl named Maggie 

"Fortunately I had carried a small roll of instruments 
and homeopathic remedies with me, for I had three surgical 
cases the day we got into Lander. Then E. F. Cheney 
came down with pneumonia and I took care of him. Mr. 
and Mrs. Cheney, with their family, were then living in 
the rooms back of the J. K. Moore store — Mr. Moore hav- 
ing gone over to Ft. Washakie a few years before to open 
a trading post there. Later in that summer of 1880, how- 
ever, Mr. and Mrs. Cheney moved into their new house 
which had just been completed and which stood near the 
Popo Agie River. I had no idea, nor had anyone else, that 
a younger sister of Mrs. Cheney, then living in the east, 
was to become my dearly beloved wife. 

"Jack Parker owned the saloon next to the J. K. Moore 
store. It had a porch with a low railing all along the front- 
Parker was a nice fellow and splendid about keeping his 
word. He came to me to have me look at his lip. He had 
a cancer started where he always held his pipe in his 
mouth. The constant irritation will often do this to an 
inveterate smoker. The only thing I could do to help him 
was to operate but I didn't have any anesthetic with me. 
Jack said we would send over to the Fort and get some. 
They sent us all they had but I told Parker I didn't think 
there was enough to put him under, or to keep him under 
if he did get to sleep. He said to go ahead and try any- 
way — so we got busy. I could see there wasn't going to 
be enough — he was a strong, husky fellow — and pretty soon 
realized it too. He raised up and looked at the chloroform 
there was left, then he picked up the bottle, threw it clear 
across the room and said, 

" 'To hell with that stuff. Go ahead and cut it out, 

So I operated on his . lip and he didn't twitch an eye 
or turn a hair while I was doing it. He was comfortable 
for about seven years after that. Then in spite of my 
warning, he began smoking his pipe again — and event- 
ually had to have the whole side of his face cut away. 

Then there was Mr. Cleveland. He used to go fishing 
with me. He was mighty good company on a fishing trip 
but he never seemed to have anything else to do. There 
were so many fine men — all pioneers and builders in their 
various ways — Major Baldwin, Eugene Amoretti, Edward 
St. John, P. P. Dickinson, Ed Young, J. K. Moore, Ben 
Anderson, Curry whose favorite cuss word was 'By Cripes, 


it's terr-rrific,' Barney Quinn, and many more — all, of 
course, being but names to you though to me they mean 
friendships with the finest men who ever lived. 

"One. of the first things I did on reaching Wyoming was 
to buy myself a good pony. Then sometime, along the lat- 
ter part of June, Dwight and I took a trip out into the 
hills. First in company with Ben Anderson, we visited 
Dwight's ranch on Owl Creek up in the Basin Country. 
Dwight was the first settler in this part of the state, tak- 
ing up land and erecting the first cabin there,* even before 
the Indian depredations had ceased. The cabin itself was 
a low one-room affair, the dirt floor having buffalo bull hides 
about two inches thick stretched over it, making a dandy car- 
pet, tough and warm. From there we ranged the country far 
and wide, hunting, fishing, glorying in the vivid blue skies 
and the brilliant days. We climbed high among the peaks 
and bagged a couple of splendid specimens of Mountain 
Sheep. And finally I shot my first buffalo. We passed 
over a vast expanse of country where the buffaloes had 
teen, but the Indians had also been through there on a 
hunting trip. There was nothing left of Mr. Buffalo but 
the skulls — each skull having been crushed in order to 
obtain the brains — and a few bones. The Indians had taken 
every other part of the animals away, to use or to eat. I saw 
my first live buffalo, as we were jogging along up a little 
gulch, one day — just caught a glimpse of him over in the 
next draw. We dismounted, left our horses, crawled to 
the top of the divide that separated us, and when we got 
to a place where we could see him — I want to tell you that 
buffalo was a magnificent looking animal. I urged my 
brother to take a shot at him but Dwight said, 

" 'Why shaw — I don't want to shoot him. I'd just 
as soon go out and shoot a cow. It doesn't mean anything 
to me, but this is the first one you've seen and it's a curi- 
osity to you — so you go ahead and shoot him.' 

"So I aimed for the heart and let her go, but Mr. 
Buffalo didn't seem bothered a bit. He just loped off very 
quietly and gently — up over a knoll and out of sight. I 

" There, you see. I missed him.' 

"Dwight laughed and replied, 'No you didn't. You shot 
him through the heart. I saw the hair part where the ball 
went through' — his vision was that wonderfully keen and 

" 'Oh, all right then — come on. We'll go see.' 

♦See Annals of Wyoming, Vol. No. Page. 


" 'No we don't. We'll just go back and get our ponies 

"But when we followed the buffalo over the knoll, on 
our ponies, sure enough, there he was stretched out dead, 
with my bullet through his heart. We only took about five 
pounds of the best meat out of .the hump. That was all 
we wanted. And there we had to leave that wonderfully 
fine animal for the coyotes — or the Injuns if they came 
along. I've always been sorry about that and ashamed of 
myself, to think that I killed him just because he was a buf- 
falo and I was a man and could kill him. It is beyond my 
comprehension how men could run amuck with the desire 
to kill, for the sheer, wanton pleasure of doing so, yet I have 
often seen men ride through a herd of deer (there used 
to be great herds of them in Wyoming at one time) at a 
gallop, seeing how fast they could pick them off. There 
was nothing to do with all the meat but leave it for the 
coyotes. It was a terror and no wonder the deer were nearly 
exterminated finally. 

'The fall of that same yeax — 1880 — they called me 
to Green River as witness before the grand jury in a 
murder case. The Republican county convention was held 
in Rock Springs about the same time, so the folks in Lander 
decided to send me as their delegate. My plans were to 
stay over at Rock Springs three or four days, on the way 
to Green River. The case before the grand jury didn't 
amount to much. There was a fellow named Leclaire who 
lived in Lander. He had married a squaw and they had 
several children.. Leclaire always wore a big, white-handled 
revolver. His bosom pal was a fellow by name of Butler. 
One day, when they'd both been drinking a good deal and 
were pretty full, they got into some sort of a wrestling row. 
Butler wasn't armed but in some manner, he managed to 
get hold of Leclaire's revolver and he shot Leclaire in the 
abdomen. Leclaire died — Butler got away and no one ever 
heard anything of him after that. Folks thought he struck 
off south, through the mountains. The grand jury was in- 
vestigating this killing. 

"It's a curious thing, but during all the time I was 
in Wyoming, I didn't miss one term of court, either as wit- 
ness, or giving expert testimony before the grand jury 
in murder cases. And just to show you how things were 
in those days, in all that time, I only remember one man 
being hung. That was a fellow in Rock Springs who hid 
under the bed of a barber who had befriended him, until 
the barber was asleep, and then killed him with a hammer 
to secure his hoardings. Just before they executed this 


fellow, they asked him if he had anything to say. He re- 
plied that he would have been given his freedom if he had 
had a fair trial. Just think of it. The priest who was with 
him cried like a baby because the fellow's last words were 
a lie. — And the worst punishment they ever gave anyone 
for murder, was given to a. German butcher who owned a 
little meat market in Rock Springs. The butcher and an 
Austrian helper he hired, had an altercation. When it had 
cooled down, the Austrian went into a beer cellar that was 
right next door to the meat market. The butcher took a 
big high-powered rifle, stepped to the door of the beer cel- 
lar, threw it open and deliberately shot down the Austrian. 
The bullet went clear through the fellow and through a 
water tank standing in the back of the room. I picked up 
the flattened bullet from the floor under the tank. They 
gave the German five years in the pen. 

"Court was very often held in a big tent, with nearly 
everyone chewing tobacco. It wasn't at all unusual for 
court to be adjourned for a few minutes for everyone to 
step outside while some man with a shovel went in and 
turned the earth over or dug it up sufficiently so the floor 
was again in a sanitary condition. It was during my years 
of court work that I became well acquainted with W. W. 
Corlett, Parley L. Williams and many other legal lights. 

"But to get back to my story — there were five of us 
started from Lander for Rock Springs and Green River. 
We had a good mountain wagon with our provisions in it, 
and a team of one old horse and one young horse, that be- 
longed to Frank Lowe. One morning at a camp some forty 
miles from Rock Springs, Lowe led the horses to water, 
just as everything was ready for breakfast. He figured 
if we needed more water, the mud stirred up by the horses 
would be settled by time breakfast was over. When he 
brought the horses back, he just gave their ropes a couple 
of turns around a sage brush — and left them. While we 
were eating, something frightened the horses — 'z-z-z-z-t' 
went the rope around the bush, and they were off, the 
old horse following the young one. They headed northeast 
toward what was called the 'sand dunes' and disappeared 
over the first of these ridges. By time we had reached it and 
climbed to the top of it — we could see the horses a mile off 
and still going. The fellows said, 

" 'Well, the only thing to do is to walk to Old Billy's 
ranch and get some horses.' 

"Old Billy's — the nearest place — was twenty-five miles 
away. The boys thought I had better stay with the wagon 
and as soon as they reached the ranch, they would send a 


team for me. I wasn't very strong in those days. In fact 
it was my health that brought me west in the first place, 
but I said, 

" 'No sir, I'm not going to stay here. I'm going to walk 
to Old Billy's place. I don't expect to be able to keep up 
with you, but I'll get there just the same.' 

"We left everything right there — each took a bottle 
of water and started out. We pegged along all day and 
when we got to Old Billy's — we found the place deserted. 
We didn't have anything to eat and I tell you we were a 
pretty tired bunch. Someone had left a little flour in an old 
tin pan but the mice had been in it— and we found an old 
rat-eaten piece of bacon — that was all. We cleaned out 
the flour as best we could, stirred it into a batter with 
some water and baked it. The bacon was boiled in an old 
can, and that was our dinner. 

(Continued in April Annals) 


(Continued from October Annals) 

(Being- a short chronicle of some of the hardships and conditions 
endured by Indian war veterans in the Phil Kearney massacre of 
December 21st, 1866, and the Wagon Box Fight of August 2, 1867, 
as chronicled by William Murphy.) 

To correct a wrong impression about Colonel Fet- 
terman, I wish to make one statement for those that 
may be interested. He was charged with disobeying 
orders. I am sure he did not disobey orders the morning of 
the massacre. Major Powell told some of the truth about 
the massacre, but in the phraseology of the day he was 
"squelched." When I was in Sheridan in 1908 there was a 
distinct feeling in the air that I should not say anything 
about it. The party went out to where the Wagon Box 
Fight was held, but did not take John Stwan or me along. 
I was on the massacre ground in July of 1908, and noted 
that the ledge of stone where the men were massacred was 
gone completely. It had been removed for some reason, 
but it would have been better to have left it. It was about 
where the monument now stands. 

Just a little side light and a few comments on how the 
regular soldier was treated by Uncle Sam in those days. 
In the first place he was not taught anything about "first 
aid," and was not furnished anything for first aid use unless 
at a fort. Men were sent out on escort of wagon trains 
and if wounded, had nothing to bandage the wound or stop 


the bleeding. Usually the wounded man was put on top of 
the freight wagon on the goods in it, and in the summer this 
was next to the wagon sheet where he would burn up from 
the rays of the sun, while in winter it was freezing cold. 
Often it would be several days before the wounded man 
could see a doctor. You will have noticed from this article 
that there was no doctor at the Fetterman Massacre, none 
at the Wagon Box Fight, and there was never one sent out 
with the escorts in those days. I trust that I have por- 
trayed some of the events and conditions of the times in 
such a manner, however rambling, that a little more light 
will have been shed on some of the history of the times 
and more interest aroused for the survivors of those wars. 
They are the unsung heroes of a Forgotten Battalion — too 
long forgotten. 

CORRECTION: Mr. William Murphy, author of "The 
Forgotten Battalion," sends in the following correction: 
Annals of Wyoming, Volume 7, Number 2, Page 398, fourth 
line from the bottom, first word Buford should read 


October, 1930, to January, 1931 


Hill, Mrs. Charles — Picture of President Roosevelt's ride from Lara- 
mie to Cheyenne, May 30, 1903. Distance 54 miles. Large 
photograph of an Editorial Convention which met in Lara- 
mie in the early days. Picture with the individual photographs 
of the members of the Cheyenne Bicycle Club, 1893. 

Boruff, Mrs. Mabel C. — Indian battle ax found on the Custer Battle- 
field right after the Custer Battle. Ax was then broken 
and had blood and hair en it — the blood stain could never 
be removed. 

Hebard, Dr. Grace R. — One bullet holder which is a semi-circular 
small leather case. Two small oblong leather cases which 
contained cartridges and bullets with places for powder. 
"Pair of stirrups which open when a heavy weight is placed 
on one side, if a man were shot by lead and fell from 
his horse the weight of his body would open the stirrups 
and that would allow the body to fall to the ground." This 
collection was brought by Dr. Hebard's uncle, John Charles 
Marven, when he came home wounded in the Civil War. 
John Charles Marven served through the entire period of 
the Civil War, being mustered out with his regiment, the 
first Iowa volunteers, March, 1865, as Brevet Lieutenant 
Colonel. One soldier's strap with a leaf design which Colonel 
Marven wore when he was wounded and was brought home 
to his sister, Dr. Hebard's mother, in Iowa City, in 1865. 


Burnett.. Edward — Two pictures of monument bearing the following- 
inscription: "Here Nov. 25, 1876, Gen. R. S. Mackenzie with 
U. S. forces composed of detachments of the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 
5th Cavalry; 4th, 9th Artillery; 9th, 23rd Infantry, defeated 
the CHEYENNES under DULL KNIFE. Lieut. McKinney 
and six soldiers were killed in battle." 

Newton, L. L. — Hand made nails found at old Fort Sanders, Wyoming. 

Watson, John M. — Twenty-three postcard pictures dealing- with 

Clark, A. M. — Framed Photograph of Frank W. Mondell. 

Thulemeyer, Theo. — The first of a series of pictures showing the 
evolution of vehicles. 

Meyers, E. D. — Two early day pictures of the Convent of the Holy 
Child Jesus, Cheyenne; 1 early day picture of Ivinson Hall, 
Laramie; photograph of Mr. and Mrs. Clark, early day 
settlers at Horse Creek, Wyoming, and parents of Mrs. W. 
S. Carpenter of Cheyenne; picture of the Wind River Canyon 
before the railroad was constructed through the canyon. 
Collection of various medals and programs, letter from the 
advertising agent for the Burlington Route, July 15, 1929; 
letter from Orville Wright, April 16, 1930, and newspaper 
clippings regarding letter. 92 large photographs of Chey- 
enne people taken on special occasions and of Cheyenne 
business buildings. Large picture of "Gold Dust" a Here- 
ford bull. View of the Capitol Building taken from the air. 

Original Manuscripts 

Bond, Mrs. Wallace — Poem entitled "Fremont Lake." 

Goodnough, Mrs. J. H. — Poem entitled "Hawaii." 

Lambertson, Mrs. Eva G. — Manuscript entitled "A Long Trail — Penn- 
sylvania to Wyoming." 

Griffith, J. B. — Copy of the manuscript entitled "The History of 
Albany County, Wyo.," written by Judge M. C. Brown of 
Laramie, Wyoming. 

Fryxell, Dr. F. M. — Manuscript entitled "An Episode from the Hayden 
Survey of 1877 in Wyoming." 

Johnston, Clarence T. — Manuscript on "Mr. John H. Gordon." 

Johnson, Albert W. — Manuscript dealing with William Francis 
Hooker's cabin and markers on LaBonte Creek, home of 
Mr. Hooker during the winter of 1874-75. 

Ellis, Mrs. C. E. — "History of Carbon, Wyoming's First Mining 

Leek, S. N. — Expression of views regarding the extension of Yellow- 
stone Park. 


Ledyard, Edgar M. — Historical guide map of the State of Utah com- 
piled by Mr. Ledyard, President of the Utah Historical 
Landmarks Association. 


Sheldon, A. B. — Bible published in 1755 which contains the genealogy 
of the Angell family — Mr. Sheldon's mother's family. John 
Burr Angell who was President of the University of Michigan 
until his death and his son who is at this time President 
of Yale University are descendents from this family. The 
Sheldons came to Wyoming in February, 1888, and located 
in Laramie. Later they moved to Wheatland where the 
mother still resides. Mr. Sheldon was in the employ of 
the Swan Land and Cattle Company from 1895 to 1917, and 
was presented with a gold watch by the company in apprecia- 
tion for his long and faithful service to them. 

State Board of Land Commissioners — Original letter written by Colo- 
nel W. F. Cody to Mr. Elwood Mead, dated May 13, 1899, 
Newark, Ohio. Original letter written by Fred Bond to 
Hon. E. Mead, State Engineer, dated Dec. 21, 1895, Buffalo, 

Watson, John M. — Five documents verifying the service to our Govern- 
ment of Mr. Watson in Mexico during the year 1915. 

Meyers, E. D. — Compiled Laws of Wyoming, 1876; General Land 
Office map of Wyoming, 1865. 


Mumey, Dr. Nolie — "Rubaiyat of Omar Kjayyam;" "A Study of Rare 
Books" by Dr. Mumey. 

Lucas, Frank E. — "Life and Adventures of Frank Grouard" by Joe 

Carroll, Major C. G. — Volumes 1 and 2, "Roll of Honor, Deceased 
Ex-Service Men and Women in Illinois." 

Meyers, E. D^"The Old Timer's Tale" by El Comancho. 


Cheyenne Chamber of Commerce — "Fort Francis E. Warren, Wyo- 
ming, 1930." 

Woman's Club of Basin — Constitution and By-Laws. 

Avery, M. H. — "Trail and Timberline" — October 1930, published by 
The Colorado Mountain Club. Contains Wyoming scenic 

Garraghan, Reverend Gilbert J. (S. J.) — "The Emergence of the 
Missouri Valley into History;" "Earliest Settlements of the 
Illinois Country;" "Trans-Mississippi West — Nicolas Point, 
Jesuit Missionary in Montana of the Forties." 

Williams, Eward W. — Newspapers containing history about the Civil 
War dating from June, 1864 to June, 1865. One paper con- 
tains an article on Deer Creek Station in Wyoming. 

Auerbach, Herbert S. — Sheet of printed matter dealing with pieces 
from Joseph Smith's home: "The Herbert S. Auerbach 
Furniture Collection from the 'Mansion House' in Nauvoo, 
111., shows feeling of the intimate domestic life so welded with 
the prosaic views of the day." 

Annate of looming 

Vol.7 APRIL, 1931 No, 4 


West Side Mining Company By Clarence T. Johnson 

Reminiscences of A. A. Spaugh By Himself 

Dr. Edward Day Woodruff By His Daughter 

Diary Kept by W. A. Richards in Summer of 1873 

Published Quarterly 

by the 


Mrs. Cyrus Beard, Historian 

Cheyenne, "Wyo. 

gfanate of lEpommg 

Vol. 7 APRIL, 1931 Xo. 4 


West Side Mining Company By Clarence T. Johnson 

Reminiscences of A. A. Spaugh By Himself 

Dr. Edward Day Woodruff By His Daughter 

Diary Kept by W. A. Richards in Summer of 1873 

Published Quarterly 

by the 


Mrs. Cyrus Beard, Historian 

Cheyenne, Wyo, 


Acting Governor A. M. Clark 

Secretary of State A. M. Clark 

State Librarian Mrs. Clare E. Ausherman 

Secretary of Board Mrs. Cvrus Beard 


Judge E. H. Pourt Lander 

Dr. Grace R. Hebard... Laramie 

Mrs. C. L. Vandevender - - - Basin 

Mr. L. C. Bishop Douglas 

Mr. Phillip E. Winter Casper 

Mrs. R. A. Ferguson Wheatland 

Mrs. M. M. Parmelee Buffalo 

Miss Spaeth Gillette 

Mrs. r. J. Quealy ..-Keminerer 

Neither the State Historical Board, the State Historical Advisory Board nor the 
State Historian is responsible for any statements made or opinions expressed by 
contributors to the Annals of Wyoming. 

(Copyright applied for by State of Wyoming) 



Session Laws 1921 


Section 6. It shall be the duty of the State Historian : 

(a) To collect books, maps, charts, documents, manu- 
scripts, other papers and any obtainable material illustrative 
of the history of the State. 

(b) To procure from pioneers narratives of any exploits, 
perils and adventures. 

(c) To collect and compile data of the events which mark 
the progress of Wyoming from its earliest day to the present 
time, including the records of all of the Wyoming men and 
women, who served in the World War and the history of all 
war activities in the State. 

(d) To procure facts and statements relative to the his- 
tory, progress and decay of the Indian tribes and other early 
inhabitants within the State. 

(e) To collect by solicitation or purchase fossils, speci- 
mens, of ores and minerals, objects of curiosity connected with 
the history of the State and all such books, maps, writings, 
(marts and other material as will tend to facilitate historical, 
scientific and antiquarian research. 

(f) To file and carefully preserve in his office in the 
Capitol at Cheyenne, all of the historical data collected or 
obtained by him, so arranged and classified as to be not only 
available for the purpose of compiling and publishing a History 
of Wyoming, but also that it may be readily accessible for the 
purpose of disseminating such historical or biographical in- 
formation as may be reasonably requested by the public. He 
shall also bind, catalogue and carefully preserve all unbound 
books, manuscripts, pamphlets, and especially newspaper files 
containing legal notices which may be donated to the State 
Historical Board. 

(g) To prepare for publication a biennial report of the 
collections and otlrer matters relating to the transaction of the 
Board as may be useful to the public. 

(h) To travel from place to place, as the requirements of 
the work may dictate, and to take such steps, not inconsistent 
with the provisions of this Act, as may be required to obtain 
the data necessary to the carrying out of the purpose and 
objects herein set forth. 

i >}■ ' -,, « 


January 3, 1927 — February 18, 1931 

Annate of OTpommg 

Vol. 7 APEIL, 1931 No. 4 


By Clarance T. Johnston 

There is a district of limited area along the Colorado- 
Wyoming boundary, where the highwayman, the rustler, the 
horse-thief, and their relatives in other fields of criminal in- 
dustry, found sanctuary from the pursuit of officers represent- 
ing law and order, long after their activities were frowned upon 
by an unquestioned majority of western people. The country 
to which I refer lies along the Little Snake River, a tributary 
of Green River. The river has its source in the Sierra Madre 
Mountains, some of its tributaries coming from Wyoming and 
the others from Colorado. After the river receives enough 
water from these tributaries to dignify the title, it wanders 
along in an uncertain way as though undecided whether it 
would cast its lot with one state or the other. It finally leaves 
Wyoming for the last time near the mouth of Dry Gulch — a 
channel of more importance than the name might signify — 
some thirty-five miles west of the mountains. 

The boundary between Colorado and Wyoming is an 
astronomical line — the forty-first parallel of north latitude. 
Charles Lamb always expressed great respect for the equator. 
I sympathized with his feeling as I became acquainted with 
this boundary line. It was surveyed in 1872 by W. A. Richards, 
who later became commissioner of the General Land Office 
under President Roosevelt. An astronomer from Harvard ac- 
companied the expedition. Monuments were set at each mile 
on which numbers were inscribed indicating the distance from 
the southeast corner of Wyoming. West of the Sierra Madre 
Mountains most of the original monuments were cottonwood 
posts which disappeared within a few years, although some 
remains of decayed wood could be found as late as 1900. The 
geology of the valley is varied. Coal measures abound and 
many ranchmen mined their own fuel supply at the time of my 
first visit. With an astronomical line, poorly located, a topog- 
raphy that had not been mapped and a mixed geology, the 
valley offered a paradise for scientists who delight in the com- 


plications that accompany overlapping fields. It was something 
of an outrage, therefore, when society superimposed upon this 
tangle of natural complexities a population that was equally 
confused and heterogeneous. 

While the valley had been explored prior to the completion 
of the Union Pacific Railroad, 1868 to 1869, it did not become 
a resort for the fugitive from justice until the railroad pro- 
vided better transportation conveniences as well as an im- 
proved prospect for a more lucrative reward for violations of 
the seventh commandment. You may recall something of N. S. 
Meeker, formerly editor of the Greeley Tribune and then Indian 
agent at Fort Meeker, some eighty miles southwest of the Little 
Snake River Valley. Meeker believed that the Indian would be 
improved by hard work. The Indians, grasping too readily the 
gist of Mr. Meeker's logic, killed him early in October, 1879. 
To protect white people remaining at Fort Meeker, troops were 
immediately sent from Fort Steele, a station located at the 
point where the Union Pacific Railroad crosses the North Platte 
River, twenty-eight miles east of Rawlins. Most of the detach- 
ment — only a few hundred troops, under Major Thornburgh, 
were ambushed and killed by the Indians in Thornburgh Gulch, 
a tributary of Snake River from the south some ten miles east 
of Dry Gulch. A scout, Joe Rankin, made his celebrated horse- 
back ride to Rawlins, a distance of eighty miles, to spread the 
news of the massacre and call for help. Troops were dispatched 
from Cheyenne, Fort Steele, Rawlins and Salt Lake City. 
These left the railroad at Rawlins, traveled sixty-five miles to 
Baggs, just north of the Colorado-Wyoming boundary and on 
Snake River — where a stockade was built. The Indians were 
soon subdued. Meeker was concerned in their civilization and 
he died a martyr to his theory. 

The valley has been the home of some unusual characters. 
Old Jim Baker, early pioneer, squaw-man, trapper and guide, 
established his home in the mountains near the source of Snake 
River while this part of the country was Mexican territory. 
One of the early towns, as one proceeds downstream, is Dixon, 
Wyoming, seven miles east of Baggs. Several interesting peo- 
ple lived at or near Dixon. At a general store, conducted by 
Charlie Perkins, one could purchase violin strings, dynamite 
and whiskey at the same counter. Perkins' private office was 
an arsenal. His theory of survival was completely expressed in 
his own laconic phraseology by "Those who are alive learned 
early to shoot first." He was notified by a Wyoming sheriff 
one evening that attachment papers would be served on him 
the following morning. During the night he drafted all the 


help he could muster and moved his entire stock across the 
boundary line into Colorado. 

A physician by the name of Ricketts lived on a ranch just 
west of Dixon. He was an able man and highly prized by the 
people of the valley when he was not under the influence of 
morphine. Ricketts had chosen between success, as the word is 
commonly spelled, the morphine habit. Having decided in favor 
of the drug, he established his home among people who would 
not cast the first stone. His course naturally led to a suicide's 

The element that most interested the casual observer 
seemed to have no special headquarters. Jeff Dunbar, an out- 
law from several schools of crime, spent his week-ends "shoot- 
ing up" saloons. I was never in a saloon while this interesting 
pastime was in progress, but I inspected the devastated areas 
soon after the meetings had adjourned. Dunbar was a genius 
and an expert in his own field and no one could view the results 
of his handiwork without admiration. Butch Cassidy, another 
celebrity, was less prominent in local society. He took business 
trips several times each year. During his absence, or soon after 
his return, newspapers frequently published accounts of rail- 
way robberies and similar exploits, thus enabling those in 
position to put two and two together, to arrive at conclusions. 
These conclusions were seldom divulged to Mr. Cassidy. He 
had a reputation of being quick and effective in argument and 
his opponents generally lost interest in discussion as soon as 
sincerity and frankness exceeded caution. Johnny Red Shirt, 
another social light I met, was an ordinary horsethief. His 
abilities were probably hereditary, although the environment 
was not altogether discouraging to his chosen field of activity. 
After having been shot through the shoulder by a careless 
sheriff, he was brought to Baggs, while I happened to be in 
town. On the following day, he rode horseback between two 
officers from Baggs to Rawlins, a distance of sixty-five miles. 
No ordinary man, severely wounded in the shoulder, could have 
stood such a trip. I lost track of Johnny after he was sent to 
penitentiary for five years. 

Although thirty years have passed since I made my first 
journey along the Little Snake River, I have said but little 
publicly of my impressions of the valley and its people. While 
I have not feared contradiction, I can speak with a little less 
reserve since receiving positive assurance of the death of Butch 
Cassidy. I have felt that the men with whom I was then asso- 
ciated had had enough grief and that publicity would only add 
insult to injury. In addition, many things of serious import to 


them were more or less amusing to me. Most of the principles 
of the comedy that I witnessed in 1895 and 1896 have now 
passed to another sphere, where, I hope, they have laid up 
treasures too frequently ignored by promoters of mining dis- 

Sooner or later in nearly every community, a prophet ap r 
pears to introduce a new era. The Snake River Valley escaped 
this sort of a calamity until along about the year 1894, when 
John Hardinburgh, suffering a lucid interval, due to a tem- 
porary separation from alcohol, concluded that the hills along 
Dry Gulch and in that vicinity contained placer gold. Hardin- 
burgh had all of the essential attributes of a prophet ; he be- 
lieved in his theories and he believed in himself. He was in a 
position, therefore, to make converts to his cause. He did not 
make a general appeal to the public and he never dreamed of 
proving anything to his neighbors. In some mysterious way he 
sold his claims to a group of men living in Providence, Rhode 
Island. It is possible that any prophet, engaged in a venture of 
this kind, would think of Providence first. The names of all of 
the Providential victims are unimportant. Many of them did 
not figure in the Dry Gulch activities in any direct or personal 
way. They appointed trusted agents to represent them. George 
H. Haskins, club man, and an expert on clam bakes, was 
elected general manager. George W. Perkins, formerly milk 
inspector of Providence, was appointed as assayer. Unlike 
Charlie Perkins of Dixon, George represented science rather 
than business and diplomacy. George T. Martin, whose real 
name was Abraham Mack, a broken down sardine salesman and 
friend of Haskins, was selected as bookkeeper and accountant. 
These men with others became linked together under the name 
of the West Side Mining Company, a corporation organized 
under the laws of Rhode Island, for the purpose of placer 

Although discretion had been cast aside while John Hard- 
inburgh had the floor, the new company, under the influence of 
Haskins, became very conservative if not over-cautions. He doubt- 
less felt that since the horse had been stolen it might be well 
to lock the barn. His first responsibility was to find someone 
who understood placer mining. Inquiries were made of western 
railway officials and the Burlington Road finally recommended 
a man by the name of Miller. This recommendation was doubt- 
less made with entire safety since Miller's placer mining activi- 
ties had been confined largely to South Africa. When Haskins 
learned that a water supply would have to be provided he 
sought the advice of Elwood Mead, then state engineer of Wyo- 

sta ft^iiffir 


ming. The stafWngineer recommended Fred Bond, an engineer 
of experience, to prepare plans for the canal and superintend 
its construction. It was found that an existing ditch, diverting 
water almost opposite the town of Dixon, could be enlarged 
and extended to Dry Gulch at a cost of about $85,000. About 
five miles of wood stave pipe were installed in the neighborhood 
of Thornburgh Gulch where a bad-land formation presented 
obstacles to open canal construction. All of the money for this 
canal work was advanced by one of the enthusiasts in Provi- 
dence, who was willing to leave the funds invested until placer 
mining operations produced gold enough to recompense him. 
The canal was finished by the middle of September, 1895. 

Although the Little Snake River Valley might have been a 
place where angels feared to tread, fools did not rush in prior 
to the year 1895. It is necessary for me to explain how I be- 
came entangled with the affairs of the West Side Mining Com- 
pany. The construction engineer, Fred Bond, left immediately 
after the canal was finished, without even saying goodbye to 
Mr. Haskins. While Bond had spent much time on the western 
fringe of- civilization, he had never seen anything just like the 
Little Snake River country. At about this time it occurred to 
the local management of the company that the mining claims 
should be laid out on the ground so that some of them might 
be found. Mr. Hardinburgh had overlooked this detail. His 
deeds seemed to describe something, but there was no evidence 
on the ground that would support any description. Inquiries 
made by Mr. Haskins finally reached me, and, much against 
the kindly advice of Mr. Bond, I agreed to go to the Little 
Snake River Valley and see what could be done. 

I took the Union Pacific Railway from Cheyenne to Raw- 
lins and a stage from Rawlins to Baggs. We left Rawlins at 
about six o'clock one morning early in November. The wind 
was blowing a gale and there was snow in the air. The stage 
was a light affair while the horses should have been in a hos- 
pital rather than on the road. We had lunch at the Willows, 
about half way between Rawlins and Baggs. This was simply 
a place. There was water and a few willows ; also a tent where 
a half-breed Indian woman served substitutes for food. I had 
lost my appetite, along with my breakfast, during the morning 
due to the motion of the stage, and entered the tent to get warm 
rather than because I had any desire for refreshment. I found 
the lady manager under the influence of whiskey and conse- 
quently a little arbitrary. She suggested that I eat my lunch 
and I acquiesced rather than enter into an argument. The 
lunch was no great acquisition as I discovered later in the day. 


We reached Baggs at two o'clock that night. My circula- 
tion had practically stopped sometime before we arrived at our 
destination, so we roused the clerk at the hotel and had him 
heat milk and do other things to stimulate signs of life. I was 
met, the following morning, by Charlie, the teamster of the 
West Side Mining Company. As far as I could tell, he was 
perfectly sober. I never saw him in that condition again. We 
arrived at Dry Gulch before noon. The houses of the little 
settlement were not built to provide the best kind of shelter 
from the normal winter weather of the valley. My arrival 
seemed to stimulate renewed interest in the great adventure 
which had called these typical New Englanders from their fire- 
sides, their clam bakes, milk inspection and sardines, to live in 
the sagebrush along Dry Gulch. The accountant, Martin, was 
assigned to me as a computer. He was a wonder with figures. 
I stated problems in multiplication and division and he imme- 
diately gave me the results. A party was sent out to cut red 
cedar for corner posts, four feet long, four inches in diameter 
and squared at one end, to be set two feet in the ground. I 
found something like descriptions of claim boundaries in the 
deeds obtained from John Hardinburgh. Enough of the corner 
posts were made in a day to warrant the beginning of field 
work. We decided to start at the eastern limit of the property, 
some four or five miles east of Dry Gulch, and work westerly. 
The first task was to find the state boundary. The remains of 
several posts were found after some search. Although the lands 
in Colorado, in the vicinity of Dry Gulch, were supposed to 
have been surveyed under the direction of the General Land 
Office, no one had ever found a monument, and the general im- 
pression seemed to be that the surveyors had fudged their 
notes, and after a pleasant summer, probably spent in fishing 
and hunting, they had made their affidavits, drawn their pay 
from a trustful government and gone their way rejoicing, leav- 
ing it to the entryman to fit maps and notes to the ground in 
any manner the law and local customs and manners might 
approve or permit. 

My field party was of nondescript character. Haskins and 
Perkins accompanied me the first day as observers. They never 
appeared in the field thereafter. Charlie, the driver, attended 
to the team and spring wagon and was besides, the custodian 
and chief consumer of the whiskey supply. It seemed improb- 
able that he had taken any part in the naming of Dry Gulch. 
A half-caste Uinta Indian from Utah acted as rear chainman; 
a half-breed Cherokee Indian from Tennessee was head chain- 
man and a Norwegian held the rod. The incidents of the first 


day were typical of many that followed. There was bad blood 
between my, chammen, but the 100-foot tape kept them sep- 
arated while at work. We were obliged to cross the Little 
Snake River as we followed the boundary line. The Uinta 
Indian would not wade it, so, while the rest of us took off our 
shoes and stockings, walked on the ice for ten or fifteen feet, 
then stepped into sixteen or eighteen inches of water and across 
a second strip of ice at the opposite bank, he returned to the 
wagon for a riding horse which fell midstream, giving him an 
unexpected bath. His clothes froze immediately and we sent 
him to camp. We then built a fire to stimulate circulation, re- 
placed our footgear and went on with the survey. 

After a few days about eight inches of snow fell and we 
found it inconvenient to return to Dry Gulch each evening. 
The company ordered some tents for us but these did not arrive 
until after we had completed the survey. But little snow fell 
during the ensuing six weeks, and, although the sun shone 
brightly nearly every day, the thermometer registered below 
zero most of the time. I only have general impressions of these 
days and I am thankful that time and memory conspire to re- 
move irregularities from the graph of a somewhat trying 

The claims ran from forty to 160 acres each and the total 
area embraced in the deeds of John Hardinburgh was slightly 
in excess of 9,000 acres. Time and patience were required to 
locate all of the corners. Astronomical direction and careful 
measurement furnished data for mathematical cheeks to the 
work. The setting of corner posts in frozen ground was most 
trying. Recording notes in cold weather is not an activity one 
would ordinarily choose for recreation. There seemed to be no 
limit to the area of land eight or nine men might appropriate 
for placer mining, by employing a little ingenuity in the ap- 
plication of the theory of permutations and combinations. 
While I saw no reason for classifying placer miners of my 
acquaintance with the meek, it was evident that they might 
inherit the earth under the laws then in effect. The survey 
finally came to an end and I returned to Cheyenne to make 
maps and final computations. 

Sometime in March, 1896, I was asked to return to Dry 
Gulch to carry out the plans of the expert mining engineer, 
Miller, and to take charge of maintenance work on the canal. 
I accepted the offer and reached Dry Gulch almost simultane- 
ously with the first signs of spring. I lost confidence in the 
ability of the mining engineer within a few weeks. Placer gold 
mining was in progress in the neighborhood. The local miners 


had tried to extract gold by the use of mercury and had given 
it up because of arsenic and antimony in the sand and gravel. 
These coat the mercury and the gold does not amalgamate, but 
slides over and is lost in the tailings. The local miners had sub- 
stituted burlap and Brussels carpet for mercury and riffles. 
They were making good wages with very scanty water sup- 
plies. Miller insisted on the use of mercury. He designed a 
plant that promised something in the nature of a monument to 
his memory. He had already made surveys which furnished 
him with an approximate knowledge of the topography. Re- 
gardless of his information — he located the first plant at such 
a point and on such a grade that it would have projected into 
the air and never have reached any of the gold-bearing ma- 
terial. I assumed some responsibility when, during his absence, 
I changed both location and grade. Miller approved these 
changes when he next visited the gulch. By that time I had as 
much hope of extracting gold from the air as from the sand and 
gravel. As my faith in the financial success of the placer min- 
ing venture disappeared, I tried to preserve reputations as far 
as possible and to afford consolation to those whose hopes were 
soon to be wrecked. 

In the meantime, Perkins, the former milk inspector of 
Providence, was busy in other fields. He was placing some 
anchors to windward as he made frequent prospecting trips 
into the mountains to the east. His assays showed gold in all 
samples of ore he brought back with him. When he found gold 
in a fire brick we pulverized for his benefit, he made an analysis 
of the chemicals used in his assays and found gold in the 
litharge, lead monoxide. This discovery discredited much of 
his work up to that time. He had also failed to number his ore 
specimens or to describe the places where they were found. 
When his assays showed minerals in paying quantities he was 
unable to say where more of the same rock might be obtained. 
His reputation as a prospector and assayer rapidly declined 
and he soon found diversions that excited less general interest. 

One pleasant summer night the driving team and all of the 
riding horses owned by the company were stolen. The horses 
of a contractor engaged in repairs on the canal were over- 
looked. Riding horses were borrowed from neighbors, local 
deputy sheriffs were notified and a large party assembled 
quickly and started off in pursuit of the robbers. The trail led 
directly east toward the mountains where all of the horses were 
found although much scattered. The party returned to Dry 
Gulch feeling rather proud of its exploit only to find that the 
horse thieves had returned to the camp while all the men were 


absent and taken the contractor's horses. These were never 

When life at Dry Gulch seemed dull and monotonous, Mar- 
tin, our bookkeeper, would restore us to a normal state of 
animation by attempting suicide. Finally, one morning late in 
June, he did not report for breakfast. Searching parties were 
at once organized and it fell to my lot to find his dead body 
in a deserted cabin near Snake River, a mile and a half from 
the camp. The camp was located in Colorado, five or six hun- 
dred feet south of the boundary line, so that the bookkeeper 
had crossed into Wyoming to end his life. While we did not 
believe that he did this purposely to inconvenience us, it neces- 
sitated our sending for the nearest coroner in Wyoming. That 
officer arrived at about five o'clock in the afternoon, when the 
inquest was held. The coroner's jury quickly found the case 
one of suicide by the strj^chnine route. We then planned and 
carried out a funeral ceremony that probably has no parallel 
in the history of the two states. It took place after dark. Two 
searchlights, used for night placer mining, were requisitioned 
to light the way. A mormon laborer volunteered to read the 
Scripture and to say the last solemn words as the body was 
laid to rest. In fact, practically everything was provided that 
usually goes with a funeral with the possible exception of 
mourners. The grave had been dug a few hundred feet north 
of the camp and at the appointed time the procession formed 
and marched to dedicate there a new cemetery. The men about 
the grave were a mixed lot. Our half-breed Indians, several ex- 
highwaymen and horsethieves and two or three others who held 
diplomas from noted penitentiaries, stood in silence while a 
companion and disciple of a new faith bade farewell to the 
earthly remains of a son of the ancient Hebrews. 

While laying out a channel to carry the tailings from the 
placer plant more directly to the river, a few days after the 
death of the bookkeeper, the state boundary line was accurate- 
ly extended so that we might know where this proposed work 
would pass into Wyoming and hence enter lands not owned by 
the company. I was surprised to find that the boundary passed 
directly over the grave of our late accountant. 

Feeling that my education was becoming too much diversi- 
fied and further, that I was no longer needed, I left Dry Gulch 
before the end of July. In November I received a telegram 
from the headquarters of the company in Providence, asking 
me to return to Dry Gulch to check up the results for the 
season. I spent one night at the hotel at Baggs on my way. 
My room overlooked a yard back of the hotel where wagons 


and similar equipment were kept for guests and other travelers. 
On the following morning, 1 noticed a familiar-looking box on 
one of the wagons in this yard. The hotel proprietor informed 
me that the relatives of our late bookkeeper had requested the 
body to be disinterred and sent to New York for final burial. 
The freighter, employed to transport the body from Dry Gulch 
to Rawlins, had reached Baggs some six weeks prior to my 
arrival. He had consumed enough whiskey each day since that 
time to relieve him from any annoying feeling of responsibility. 

I soon reached Dr} T Gulch where I measured the volume of 
material that had been worked and then inquired for the gold 
recovered. No response being made, I did not press the matter. 
My report to the stockholders in Providence was brief, and to 
the point. The camp soon closed and the moving spirits of the 
enterprise at Dry Gulch, charging all costs to the experience, 
collected their personal effects and left for parts unknown. 

The Little River Valley society exhibited one or two out- 
standing characteristics as I remember it. For mental alertness 
the natives of the valley could not be excelled. Charlie Perkins 
of Dixon probably had the right theory. Only those who could 
think quickly and accurately were doing business and report- 
ing regularly for meals. John Hardinburgh was an ignorant, 
unprepossessing man, yet he convinced men of much different 
type that he owned something worth buying. These New Eng- 
enders, Yankees, if you please, were unable to compete with 
men representing a society stimulated by necessity and purged 
of the weak and unfit. In every transaction, commercial, social 
or charitable, the man who lived in the sagebrush, walked away 
with all benefits, prizes and profits. It is possible that none of 
the people of the valley could have successfully staged a clam 
bake and none of them, to my knowledge, ever manifested any 
interest in milk inspection or the selling of sardines. They dis- 
played wisdom when they adhered to their own vocations, 
whether these were horse-stealing, stockraising, mine promot- 
ing, or something else. 

One quality all shared in common. The great gambling in- 
stinct — the joy of taking a chance — appealed to the sons of 
New England and the denizens of the sagebrush alike. John 
Hardinburgh was a conservative. He only risked the price of 
transportation from Baggs to Providence and return. He might 
have refused to partake of a lunch at the Willows, while mak- 
ing the journey, or he might have contradicted Mr. Cassidy 
upon his return. He avoided these opportunities for diversion 
and lived to enjoy the profits of the business he represented 


with such credit. The mining company took a long chance to 
begin with, and in exhibition of rare sporting blood, the man- 
agement grasped every opportunity, as the game progressed, 
to make success more difficult. 


"Do you know, Bill, I don't know whether I am going to 
get home for Thanksgiving or not, the way this 77 Ranch deal 
is dragging. But if I don't, it won't be the first time I failed to 
get home for Thanksgiving dinner. 

"I remember one time I left here on Thanksgiving morn- 
ing expecting to eat dinner on my ranch at Manville that eve- 
ning, but I did not arrive there for two days. ' ' 

"What was the trouble?" inquired Bill. 

"It's not such a long story and I don't mind telling you, 
although I never like to tell of these things, as lots of people 
do not believe them and may say that one is a wind jammer, 
but believe me or not, Bill, there have been lots of stranger and 
more interesting things happen right here in old Cheyenne and 
in this country than were ever written in books." 

The story starts away back in the seventies, nearly fifty 
years ago. I was on the Iron Mountain roundup and we were 
just pulling into the Cheyenne Pass to camp for dinner. Zack 
Thomas, manager of the Two Bar outfit for Alex Swan, was in 
charge of the roundup. He had arranged to go to Cheyenne 
after dinner and left me in charge of the outfit. 

There were about one hundred men in the roundup and 
they had an average of about ten saddle horses to the man, 
making about one thousand horses. 

We expected to roundup the country between Cheyenne 
Pass and Cheyenne that afternoon, making two roundups, and 
get to Cheyenne that night, All the men were in their saddles 
and rearing to go, expecting to have a wild time in the city 
that night. Just as I was giving the last order as to how the 
drive should be made, a little girl rode up. It was unusual in 
those days to see a little girl nine years old ride up to a round- 
up. She came down the canyon like the wind, her hair stream- 
ing down her back and her eyes filled with tears. She asked 
for Zack Thomas and some of the men told her that Mr. Thomas 
had gone to Cheyenne but that Ad Spaugh was left in charge 
and she had better see him. 

I rode up about this time and had considerable trouble in 
learning from the child what was wrong. She was wild with 


grief and I could see that something serious was the matter. 
Finally I gathered from the girl that her little brother about 
eight years old had left the ranch early that morning to hunt 
a pony that had gotten away with a rope on and that they 
feared the boy was lost or that something had happened to 
him. The forenoon had been cloudy but now the clouds had 
settled down from the tops of the mountains into the valley and 
stretched across the plains where they were touching the 
ground. It was already spitting snow, the wind was rising and 
the clouds began to roll down off the mountains, having the 
appearance of one of those severe, destructive spring snow- 
storms that so often visit the Rocky Mountain region. 

I told the men that we would abandon the afternoon round- 
up and make a drive to find the boy. A little cloud of disap- 
pointment showed in the faces of the boys, for they knew that 
the visit to Cheyenne would have to be postponed and perhaps 
lost altogether, but every man was ready to go. 

We went up to the ranch and found that the boy must have 
followed the pony through Cheyenne Pass and into the moun- 
tains above. The old California Trail passes through this 
canyon, out by Pole Mountain and on to the Laramie plains. 
By the time we got to the head of the canyon where the men 
were to spread out to hunt for the boy, it was snowing hard 
from the east. 

I spread the men out about fifty on each side of the road 
with instructions to ride out every hill and dale for a distance 
of three or four miles and that we were to all meet on the 
California Trail about six miles west of the Cheyenne Pass in a 
little park and report the results. 

We met at the park designated about the middle of the 
afternoon, but the boy had not been found. I scattered the men 
out again as before and we were to meet at the north of Pole 
Mountain next time. We reached that point about dark with 
no better results. Kind Providence favored us at this time, for 
the clouds cleared away, leaving a full moon and we spread 
out for another drive by moonlight. I felt sure the boy was 
farther on as the boys all declared they had searched every 
bush and rock. 

I had given orders that if the boy was found, the rest of 
the men were to be notified by three rapid pistol shots. I think 
we were on the third drive that was made after nightfall, when 
one of the men who was riding with me in the road, noticed 
something in the snow that looked like a boj^'s track. In a 
short time it became so plain there could be no doubt about it. 
We signalled the other men to come in. We then struck up a 


swift gallop and the other men came back to the road and 
followed up. We rode for nearly an hour before we overtook 
the boy. He was badly frightened — in fact he was almost wild. 
One of the men got off his horse and tried to catch the boy 
but the child could outrun the cowboy, so one of the other men 
threw a rope over the boy who fought and scratched and bit 
the men at first, but we soon quieted him, wrapped him up in a 
coat and one of the men's slickers and put him on behind one 
of the men and started back. 

The boy had nearly reached the Laramie plains, a distance 
of almost thirty miles from home, when we found him, the wind 
and storm was at his back or he never could have traveled 
so far. 

We had no more than started back toward home than the 
wind came up from the northwest and it commenced to storm. 
It snowed and blew a perfect gale and turned very cold. On 
our return, after we had found the boy and when we were 
about half way to the ranch, a pack of black timber wolves 
crossed the trail just ahead of us and, in fact, we rode into the 
bunch of wolves before they all got across the trail. The wolves 
were so hungry and cold that they would hardly get out of our 
way ; they even bristled up, snarled and snapped at our horses 
as we rode through them. Some of the boys unbuttoned their 
overcoats and drew their revolvers but by the time they were 
in position to shoot, the wolves had started to run; the boys 
fired at them several times but did not get any of them. It made 
the cold chills run over my nerves to think what would have 
happened to the boy had the wolves crossed the trail when the 
boy came along alone. It was daylight when we got back to 
the ranch and restored the boy to his mother, who wanted to 
hug and kiss the whole roundup. Cowboys being rather shy, I 
came to their rescue and represented them in this act, although 
I wasn't any too well posted, as I had never known but one 
girl up to that time. 

We had several days bad weather so the boys all went to 
Cheyenne and had a gay time. 

It was more than twenty years later that the sequel to this 
story was played. It was on Thanksgiving morning and I was 
leaving Cheyenne, expecting to get to my ranch at Manville 
for a six o'clock dinner. The train should have left Cheyenne 
at seven o'clock a. m. Seven-fifteen came and no train was in 
sight ; seven-thirty, and no train. There were a lot of people at 
the station who had been in Cheyenne shopping for Thanksgiv- 
ing and wanted to get home for dinner. Everyone was pacing 
up and down the platform, nervously awaiting the Cheyenne 


and Northern train — which was made up here — to be backed in, 
or some information of it. 

They ran a mixed train those days — box' cars, cattle cars, 
mail car, baggage, smoker and day coaches. The train was 
backed in soon and the loading of mail, express and baggage 
commenced. It was long after eight o'clock when Shorty Dona- 
hue hooked the engine onto the train. We were soon off, and 
the way Shorty whirled that old train up the Crow Creek 
valley, past Silver Crown, over the Horse Creek divide and 
even up the Iron Mountain hill, was a ride long to be remem- 
bered. People who attempted to walk up and down the aisles 
were piled up first on one side of the car and then the other. 
But when we reached the Iron Mountain divide and started 
down that canyon with its steep grade and sharp curves the 
women shrieked with fear. The head car would get so far from 
the track that I thought it never would get back, but it did 
alright. I thought Shorty must either be drunk or had lost 
control of the train. 

The train suddenly stopped its terrific rate of speed with 
a chug. Shorty had set the emergency brake tight. I could hear 
the brakes grinding the wheels and then the train sliding on 
the steel rails, and could smell the burning of steel. 

Everyone was piled over into the seats ahead of them and 
in the front end of the cars. The train came to a stop with a 
thud. I was one of the first to hit the ground and there stood 
the engine with its front out over a burning bridge ! 

It was one of those high, long wooden trestles so often con- 
structed by new railroads across deep canyons in those early 
days. I had no more than reached the side of the engine than 
the bridge fell, a mass of flames. 

I noticed a cowboy standing by his horse on the high bank 
just outside the right-of-way of the railroad, with his coat in 
his hand. I suspected it was he who had flagged the train. 
I went over to him and he told me that he did. He said he was 
at Iron Mountain to get the mail and had seen the smoke of the 
burning bridge and took it to be the train with a broken down 
engine. He thought he would come up there and get the mail 
sack so that he could take it in to the post office, and then he 
was going over to Horse Creek to eat Thanksgiving dinner with 
his mother. About this time another cowboy rode up. 

Preparations were being made by the conductor to back 
the train up to Horse Creek and report the trouble. The man 
who had flagged the train turned his horse over to the other 
cowboy to be taken to the ranch and he took our train back to 


Horse Creek. The man seemed to know me but I could not 
place him. He rode in the seat beside me to Horse Creek. 

When we reached there it was reported the train would be 
held there until a southbound train came down, which would 
be late in the afternoon, then we would be transferred at the 
burned bridge and sent on our way. 

The cowboy asked me to go down to his house and eat 
Thanksgiving dinner with him. It is needless to say I readily 
accepted the invitation, as the ranch where he was to take me 
was only a short distance from Horse Creek station. 

When we entered the house the man inside wanted to know 
what was the matter with the train and why he had come that 
way instead of horseback. The mother had hardly seen me as 
yet and the man went on to tell her about the burning bridge. 

"You saved the lives of everybody on the train," she said. 
"I suppose so," he replied. "And this man was on the train, 
too." said the boy's mother. "This is Mr. Spaugh," said the 
boy, whereat the lady threw her arms around me and kissed 
me on one cheek and then, the other and almost frightened me 
to death. Holding both my hands in hers and with eyes full of 
tears she said, "Don't you know," pointing to her son, "that 
this is the boy whose life you saved from a frozen death? And 
to think that today he has saved you from a fiery grave ! I have 
never seen you from that day to this, Mr. Spaugh," said the 
lady, "although I see by the papers that you have been 

We had a good dinner and a pleasant time talking over 
the early days in Wyoming and the changes that had taken 
place, until about four o'clock, the time for the train to move 
on. I might as well tell you how I finished that Thanksgiving. 

"There was much delay in transferring the passengers, 
baggage and express as is usual in such cases. It was midnight 
when we reached Orin Junction. A Thanksgiving dance was 
going on there at the hotel. I took a few whirls at the dance 
but soon went to bed, but I could not sleep as they were danc- 
ing in the dining room just under my room. 

Finally the dance broke up as the sun was peeping through 
the curtains and as I passed into dreamland I heard the last 
strains of the dancers singing "God Be With You Till We 
Meet Again. ' ' 

I must have thought a little more or dreamed of the little 
poem written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox about the departure at 
the close of an old-time ball given at an old southern plan- 
tation : 


"Half to the setting moon have gone, 
Half to the rising day ; 
Loud on the stone and low on the sand 
The last wheel echoes away." 

It was high noon when I awoke and it was about time for 
the Chicago and Northwestern train for Manville. 

"Ad, I wish you would tell me the story about the pranks 
of the fifteen saddle horses which some of your old-time cow- 
boys told me knew more than some men." 

"It is getting late and we must retire. I will tell you about 
them sometime." 

"How about that famous roundup of 1884, when you had 
four hundred men and four thousand saddle horses?" 

" I '11 tell you about that sometime, Bill, and the story, too, 
about the long cattle drive with 3,700 big longhorn Texas steers 
from Brownsville, Texas, at the mouth 4>f the Rio Grande to 
Canada. I'll do it sometime, Bill." 


(Continued from January Number) 

Next morning we started for Rock Springs without any 
breakfast, with between fifteen to eighteen miles to go to reach 
town. I was pretty well played out and stopped to rest at the 
first ranch house we came to — some two miles from our destina- 
tion. The others went on into town and said they'd send some 
one out with a team for me. But after I had rested awhile, I 
started out again — and was only about a quarter of a mile 
from town when I met the team which the boys had sent to 
pick me up. And that was my first trip to Rock Springs. 

The afternoon of the day we reached Rock Springs, they 
brought in a miner from one of the coal mines, who had hurt 
his back in an accident and was in a serious condition. The 
nearest physician lived in Rawlins and they were going to send 
for him when one of the boys in my party said : 

"Why don't you use our surgeon?" 

"Bring him over here, quick," was the reply. "We didn't 
know you had a surgeon in your party. ' ' 

Well, I fixed the man up — and let me tell you he was in 
bad shape when I reached him, but I made a neat job of it and 
that made me feel mighty good. As a consequence, that next 
night the miners got together and held a meeting. They sent a 


committee to tell me they liked my work and would fix' me up 
right if I would stay there. I replied that I didn't intend to 
remain in the west — but they wouldn't give it up, and the next 
night they called another meeting. They wanted me to sign a 
two-year contract. Finally I told them that I only intended to 
stay in the west long enough to recover from overwork and 
the very most I would do would be to sign a six months' con- 
tract, with the understanding that I probably wouldn't stay 
there after it expired. Well sir, the upshot was that they ac- 
cepted my conditions. I went on to Green River, from there 
back to Lander, and again to Rock Springs where I started to 
work the first of November (1880). My intention had been to 
stay there six months. I remained ten years as surgeon for the 
Union Pacific Coal Company and resident surgeon for the Union 
Pacific Railroad Company. 

In addition to my work as surgeon for the Union Pacific 
Company, I soon became medical examiner for the Bankers 
Life Association, an insurance company of Des Moines, Iowa. 
And still later was appointed medical examiner for the North- 
western Masonic Aid Association. In 1882 or 1883 I was elected 
superintendent of schools for Sweetwater County. At that time 
Sweetwater County extended nearly across the state — or rather 
territory — of Wyoming, and took in what is now Sweetwater 
and Fremont Counties. The Wyoming Commissioners of Phar- 
macy was organized on May 10th of 1886 with myself elected 
as first chairman of the organization and Fred P. Shannon, 
secretary. In August, 1886, I took the examination and became 
a registered pharmacist. Mustn't forget to mention that there 
are still some of the prescription blanks of the Central Drug 
Store of Rock Springs — J. W. Gates, proprietor — in my old 
medical case. 

As I mentioned before, the nearest physician lived in 
Rawlins. He made occasional visits to Rock Sprnigs to care 
for the sick and he used to be called to attend the more serious 
cases, there being no doctors there before I came. When this 
gentleman heard the miners in conjunction with the companies, 
had hired me, he came right to town, hunted me up and started 
to raise hell. He said I was poaching on his territory, and I'd 
have to get out or he'd have me run out. That made me pretty 
mad. I told him I didn't consider it according to professional 
ethics for one doctor to treat another as he was doing; that 
tMs was virgin territory open to all comers, that it was not my 
intention to make this my home permanently but that no man 
could run me out of town, and as long as I was there I in- 
tended to "make good." So the doctor went out, hunted up 


some of his friends among the Molly Maguires and asked them 
to help him run "that tenderfoot doctor out of town," As a 
consequence, for some little time I was the object of threats and 
attempted intimidations by the group whose aid the doctor had 
enlisted. For instance, one morning I was forced to use my 
gun to chase two big, brawny Scotchmen, brothers, out of my 
office. Another time a row of "Mollys" were sitting on an 
embankment just across the street from the front door of my 
office. A new rule or law had recently gone into effect making 
it impossible to get any whiskey during certain hours without 
a prescription. These men began betting they could get one 
from me, and finally one of their number was told to "Go get 
a prescription from that tenderfoot doctor." 

I was ready for the fellow with my gun, as soon as he 
walked into the office and opened hfc head. I made him back 
up to the wall and sit down on the floor against the baseboard 
— and I kept him there for a couple of hours, with the men on 
the embankment outside patiently awaiting the outcome, as 
though it were a sporting event. When I finally let the fellow 
go, told him to clear out, his companions jeered and ridiculed 
him plenty. They kept it up, too, so hot and heavy that before 
they got through he had to leave town. And still another time, 
a man came in demanding his money because he had not needed 
my services. I refused to give it to him. He said : 

"That's all right, Doc. I see you going out of here at all 
hours of the night and I'm going to lay for you behind some 
of these piles and some dark night I'll get you." 

The railroad ran right through the main street of town and 
they always had a great many ties and one thing or another 
stacked around. 

"Well, sir," I replied, "now I'll just tell you what I'll do. 
When I go out I'll have my medicine case in my left hand and 
in the right pocket of my overcoat I '11 have a mighty fine little 
gun, and my right hand will be on it all the time. If you're 
going to lay for me you'll have to lay mighty cjuiet or else be 
god damned quick about it or I'll wing you." 

Finally the group of Molly Maguires who were trying to 
make things uncomfortable for me left me alone. They said : 

"Aw, you can't bluff that tenderfoot out of town. Of 
course, you can kill him, but you can't bluff him out, and be- 
sides it's kind of handy to have a doc around." 



He Acted as Assistant to his Brother, A. V. Richards, the "Lon" 

of the Diary 

Survey of South Boundary of Wyoming 

May 26, Sunday— 1873 

Left Omaha and home at 11 :30 a. m. to rejoin the boys at 
North Platte. Took dinner at Fremont ; supper with Mr. Fox 
at Grand Island. At Elm Creek received orders to lay the train 
up till morning, on account of washouts on the road. Spent the 
night in the mail car with Johnson and 'Sullivan. A good bed 
and sound sleep. Breakfast at section house. Reached Brady 
Island about 1 o 'clock. County through we had passed all over- 
flowed, and a bridge out between B. I. and X. Platte. Waited 
two hours ; no dinner. Got into my trunk in baggage car and 
set up the bread-doughnuts and cake, for the trainmen and 
mail agents. Reached camp 0. K. at 4:00 p. m. Glad to get 
back. All well. 
Tuesday, May 27 

Called on Col. Park to have boys sign notes. Found him 
insensible from paralysis. Signed notes to P. R. Bdry & sub- 
division before Goodale N. P. Had dinner. Made arrangements 
with Foley & Seuter to ship corn and flour at .60 and 4.45 per 
cwt. the last in seamless sacks and corn sacks to be returned. 
Lon waited in North Platte to take train for Cheyenne. The 
boys and I made west and camped for night at 'Fallon sta- 
tion. A dozen emigrant teams camped here too. Voted after 
supper for the "handsomest man" to receive Mrs. Wakeley's 
present — Pattison was elected. Votes that Swain make a pic- 
ture for Mrs. W. of the recipient of her gift (a cake of soap). 
Moved by Schneider that "Dot bicture was tooken pefore he 
could use dot soap." Heap of fun. Weather fair. Roads good. 
Wednesday, 26 

Just at breakfast passenger came up ; Lon aboard. Took 
his overcoat — Left camp 6:30 — made Alkali — 14 miles— for 
dinner — took twenty minutes for same — reached Roscoe siding 
at 3:00 p. m. and camped as I telegraphed Judge Wakeley we 
would camp here tonight. Big Springs tomorrow and Julesburg 
Friday night. Took a bath in Platte. Had axes and tools 
ground. Cooking done and all preparations for a big drive 
tomorrow, as it is 29 miles to Big Springs. Came 24 today. 
Weather fine. Roads hard and dry; sometimes sandy. Surface 
Sand Hills last ten miles — 


Thursday, 29 

Left Roscoe at 6:30 a. m. Camped for dinner near Brule 
17 miles. Now camped for night at Big Springs — No Judge last 
night. Wind is now high and a good prospect of rain. 

Friday, 30 

Reached Julesburg at 1 :30. Found Campbell waiting with 
gun etc. from Omaha. Laid up for night as some corn we had 
ordered did not come in and I had telegraphed Judge W. that 
we would camp here. Prospect good for rain. At 3 :00 p. m. 
received dispatch from the Judge at Columbus saying that he 
got left by the train at that place. Telegraphed him at Grand 
Island that we would leave Julesburg tomorrow morning. 
Saturday, May 31 

Raining at daylight. Did not start until 8 :00 a. m. Camped 
for dinner at Chappel, a flag station. Found an American as 
Sec. master. L^sed their stove. Learned that there were buffalo 
just south of Lodge Pole Creek (along which we have traveled 
today) in the bluffs. After dinner Campbell and I with the 
pony left the road and teams and went into the bluffs hunting 
— taking the pony. Sighted buffalo within mile from the road 
— Campbell gave chase and had a heap of sport but killed 
nothing ; while he was gone I killed a fine doe antelope — the 
first game for my new gun. Struck another herd of buffalo on 
our way to camp, but very wild. Reached camp at Lodge Pole 
Station at dark. 
Sunday, June 1st 

Just as we were ready to start this morning learned that 
the Judge was almost here on a freight train. Waited for him. 
Gave him a warm (cold) breakfast and moved on. Teams all 
stuck crossing a slough just out of the station. Delayed an 
hour. Camped for dinner on Lodge Pole. Had a good meal with 
cakes and bread furnished by Mrs. W. and antelope steak. 
Reached Sidney at 5 :00 p. m. A three Co. post is here, an eat- 
ing house and quite a little town. Water runs through the 
street brought from Lodge Pole two miles west. The Judge left 
for home. At depot saw Meachem, Captain Jack's intended 
victim, on his way East. A tall fine looking man. Saw Laugh- 
ton Sith Cole and Johnny Warner on train. Sixty-three miles 
to Pine Bluff, must make it in two days — 
Monday, 2nd 

Left camp at 6 :00 a. m. Camped for dinner at Potter. 19 
miles. Found Waters our pilgrim "put off here again." Moved 
on west. Overtook Waters "Put-Off" again. Will go with us 
to Pine Bluffs. Camped at 5 :00 p. m. on Lodge Pole. Just north 
of Bennett station. A fine camp ground — Four emigrant wagons 


in camp here too. Regulated sights on my gun with target 
practice. Campbell and I on guard — 
Tuesday, 3rd 

Dinner a mile east of Bushnell — Reached Pine Bluffs at 
5 :30 — Found Lon and MacConnell in waiting. Got in ten min- 
utes ahead of us. Camped a mile north on Lodge Pole — Put up 
the new tent. Lon and Mac — Bob and I occupy it. 
Wednesday, 4th 

Spent the a. m. in reloading and regulating wagons and 
camp ; writing letters and taking leave of civilization. Supt. 
Sickles of the U. P. R. R. and Dr. Latham, Sur. Genl. Wyo. are 
anxious to have us establish the S. W. corner of Wyo. first, and 
Mr. Sickles offers through Latham to furnish us transporta- 
tion and passes while out here to do it at once. We are open 
for such propositions. Left the Sta. at 1 :00 p. m. Lon, Mac and 
four men going down the line; I and the teams going around 
the bluffs S. W. We met at the cor. of Wyo. Colo, and Neb. — 
at dark. No water in the country, and timber two miles. Boys 
tired and hungry — Tried to get a station rigged for astronomi- 
cal observations, but failed. Went to bed of course. Lon and 
Mac working until 12 :00 M — 
Thursday — 5 — 73 

Took three men and a team and cut a load of posts on the 
bluff, took them 6 miles west and left them. Dug a well on 
Muddy Creek three miles west of camp. Good cold water. 
Weather hot — Reached camp at 7:00 p. m. tired and hungry. 
Killed an antelope coming in Campbell did do — Reorganized 
guard duty, putting three men on each night. Bob, Arthur and 
I on first night. Lon and Mac worked until 1 :30 a. m. taking 
observations to test this initial point. So Lon took my "chance" 
and part of Bob 's. Weather fine and warm — Lon rode the pony 
to Pine Bluffs for mail but got none — 
Friday, 6th 

Went to the station on a mule — Sent the old Winchester 
in to be repaired, ordered axes and grindstone from Edgar, to 
Cheyenne. Got dinner at a section house — Bought a pick — 
Reached camp at 6 :00 p. m. Lon ran four miles of line. Dick 
killed an antelope, and Patterson do— Cloudy— No observa- 
tions tonight. Wrote to Miss H. Judge W. and Aut — 
Saturday, June 7 

Can't move today — Took four men and went post hunting 
—Picked up the load of posts and took them to a point 8 miles 
west of camp at a spring. Killed a very large antelope coming 
in. Prospects good for rain. 


Sunday, June 8th, '73 

Raining nearly all night. Slept 'till 7 this morning. No 
stars last night, consequently must lie in camp all day. Fin- 
ished Martin Chuzzlawit and was well pleased with the sequel. 
Tom's vindication; the happiness of Martin-Jim-Mary -John and 
Tom's sister Ruth brought about by their well being and well 
doing forms a strong and striking contrast to the downfall and 
utter ruin of Pecksniff and Jonas. The moral is good and im- 
pressed at every step of the narrative. Be generous, good and 
wise ; truthful, honest and kind and prosper and be happy ; fail 
in these essential qualifications and misery, ruin and death 
must follow — before dinner (at 3:00 p. m.) Campbell and I 
took a stroll of three hours for our health. After dinner read 
Harper's and mended up some. The Prof, discovered that the 
Level on the Astronomical Transit was broken — how no one 
knows. This is an aggravating and expensive accident as it 
will necessitate the ordering of a new one to be forwarded to 
Cheyenne and cause further vexatious delays. It is now im- 
possible to test this point, so we will start west with the line 
tomorrow. Long going to the station. Had a camp fire roast of 
antelope and retired — 7 antelope brought into this camp. 
Monday, June 9, 1873 

Breakfast at 5 :00 a. m. Lon started on the pony for Pine 
Bluffs to open communication with Chicago and Washington 
about a level. The team started west for a new camp 8 miles 
west, and I took the line. At the edge of the bluff 1 mile 65 
chs. from corner, in setting the 2nd M. C. found the west end 
of the line incorrect. Ran on to 4th M. C. found the line as 
previously run too far south. Returned to edge of bluff and re- 
ran it ; but made it a random line to camp. In going over it 
west the first time, Mott accidently shot Mack through the out- 
side edge of his right foot with his revolver, while both were 
firing at a large rattlesnake. Campbell ran 5% miles to camp 
and brought back a team in a little over an hour. The team 
took a load of wood from the bluff and taking Mack, went to 
camp. We proceeded with the work. Reached camp at 5 :00 p. 
m., 12 hrs. btwn. meals. After supper, dressed Mack's foot; 
not a bad wound — only through the flesh. 10 :00 p. m. Have 
been working with Mac-C — taking observations. Sky full of 
light clouds, making it slow work, Lon not yet arrived. Think 
he must have stayed all night at the station as he knew where 
we would camp — and had been nearly here. Hope he is not 
out on the prairie. Am not much anxious as he knows how to 
come home. List of attractions tonight — Mosquitoes — first and 
nearest — Lon out of camp — whereabouts unknown — level 


broken — line crooked this soon — Mack wounded and weather 

cloudy — and all hands tired — rather bad but jolly still, see 


Tuesday, June 10, '73, 7:00 a. m. 

Worked last night until day was breaking. Got some ob- 
servations — Lat. and a few for time. Got the transit on the 
North Star at its Eastern Elongation, and found the true 
Meridian, turned a right angle after deducting the distance 
from Polaris when taken to the true Meridian and found my 
line of yesterday correct. Am waiting now at 8 :00 a. m. for 
Prof, to make some calculations for Lat. from last night 's work, 
when we will go to work again. Lon not in yet. Kept a red 
light out all night. Team has gone west with Al and Patterson 
to take a load of posts on west. The weather is beautiful this 
morning. Air clear and pure. Good weather for running. We 
are camped on a small spring near the line about eight miles 
from the initial point. Soil strongly impregnated with Alkali 
but good water to be had by digging a few feet — 6 :00 p. m. 
Went to work at 11 :00 a. m. At the same time started Neal for 
the station on a mule bareback — to see why Lon didn't come. 
Got into camp at 4:15 p. m. At same time Lon and Neal hove 
in sight. Lon was waiting for an answer to his telegrams. 
Failed to hear from Safford, but got word through from Wash- 
ington. Can get a new one in a week. 
Wednesday, June 11, 1873 

Started from camp at 5:20 a. m. with the line. Reached 
the Crow Creek and had dinner at 12 :00 M. 8 miles. This is a 
stream 25 Iks. Swift running and good water. A few scatter- 
ing cottonwood and willow trees in the bottom. Country roll- 
ing. Soil gravelly, 2nd rate. Large herds of cattle grazing 
near. Antelope plenty. Lon killed one coming over this morn- 
ing. After dinner ran two miles west without building the 
mounds as we will take Latitude and Azimuth tonight and 
start anew tomorrow. The line seems to be a little to the north 
of the Parallel now. Got caught in a heavy rain coming to 
camp. A herder passed through camp with a wagon going east 
to his ranche during the storm. Followed him on pony to in- 
quire as to water west on line. Found that there was water at 
4 — 7 and 15 miles. Will make one of those places tomorrow. 
Also found Shorty's umbrella in his wagon. He asked if we 
had lost one. I told him I thought we were liable to lose one. 
Thursday, June 12, 1873, 7:00 a. m. 

Mac C — and Lon got a few observations last night and are 
now working them up. Morning opens clear and pleasant. 
Mosquitoes plenty on Crow Creek, but — Crows — Evening — 


Moved west at 11 oclock. Built up 17 and 18 miles and ran 7 
miles farther through very rough country. High rocky bluffs 
putting into the bottom south of us. Camped 25th mile post on 
edge of bottom near E. end of Big Simson Canon, Iliff of Chey- 
enne has a ranche in this canon and 1,200 head of cattle in all 
on the plains. Lon and Mac taking observation nearly all night. 
Friday, 13th 

Started with the team to distribute stakes along the line 
while the obsers. were being figured up. Found the country 
too rough. Sent team back and Campbell and I scouted about 
6 miles ahead. Back by 12 :00 M. Mac had found our Lat. un- 
changed. So we moved on. Ran four miles west. Very rough. 
Lon brought posts in on a pony. Camped in Simson Canon — 
29 mile— Thirteen miles to the* 0. P. R. R. so reported. Will 
try to make it tomorrow. 
Saturday, 14th 

Left camp at 5:20 a. m. Reached the R. R. at 1:30 p. m. 
41st mile post on R. R. track. Camp E. of R. R. line and near 
it. I killed an antelope with a needle gun at 300 yards. Same 
very good steak for dinner. Broil for supper. Snow capped 
Mts. very plain from here. "We could see a snow storm there 
this p. m. though they are 75 miles away. Indications of rain — 
Sunday, 15th 

Ran line three miles west. Camped at a beautiful spring 
just east of Lone Tree Creek. Summit Siding is just south of 
us and Terry Bros, cattle ranche near us on the west. Hay and 
Thomas Surveyors under Reed. Now cattle and sheepherders 
are two miles N. of us. The herds of this Co. start a Round-up 
tomorrow. Each ranch sends a man, they scout the country, get 
up all the cattle. Then each man picks out his stock and drives 
them in — 35 men start this time and they expect to pick up 
50.000 head of cattle. Did some washing. Read Kenelm Chill- 
ingly and Harper's for June. Slept some and wrote to Alice 
and the home folks. Now at sundown, will close — Tomorrow, 
Lon and I go to Cheyenne to get supplies and send out and get 
mail — No rain last night — Weather beautiful. Thermometer 
90 degrees at noon. Bar. indicates 6,275 feet — 
Monday, 16th, 1873 

Went on guard this morning at 2 o'clock. Breakfast at 
five. Campbell and four men with a team started west to the 
Black Hills for wood. Lon, Billie and I with a team and the 
pony started for Cheyenne nine miles distant at 6 :00 a. m. 
Stopped at the Ranche of Hay and Thomas, ex-surveyors, who 
were thrown out of a job by the retirement of Dr. Reed and 
the succession of Dr. Latham as Surveyor or General. They 


have a fine sheep ranche ; also a large number of horses and 
mules. Are busy now shearing sheep. — Reached Cheyenne at 
9 :00 a. m. Met Jos. Carey and Gillen. Kimball and Woods of 
Omaha. Pound letter from Miss H. Also from Aut — Found 
gun, axes, grindstone and baking powder all right. Tested 
chain ; mailed letters ; bought lots of things. Got a dinner at 
R. R. House — $1.00 and beat the hotel keeper about 75 cents 
then — Saw "Warner at dinner — Started home at 4 — reached 
camp at 6 :10 p. m. Boys got in from timber 12 miles distant. 
A rough country west of us. Plenty of water and more wood. 
Signs of Indians. One seen near camp — Got a splendid letter 
from Alice. She is at San Jose for her health. A bad cold and 
cough. Perhaps it is worse than she tells me but I hope not — 
I haven't written just as I should; but I will make ample 
amends next time which will be tomorrow. Camp was so dull 
and I tired that I wrote a dull uninteresting letter, but will do 
better — she deserves the best that I can do in writing or any- 
thing else. 
Tuesday, 17th 

Lay in camp all day. Jap Corey and his cousin visited us 
— Campbell and I took a hunt after 4:00 p. m. Returned 
gameless — 
Wednesday, 18th 

With Arthur and Texas and a span of mules started for 
town. Changed teams at Thomas' Ranche to try one he had to 
sell. Too small and too high, $275. Arthur went to the post 
with his cousin Capt. Wessels who sent him to camp in wag, 
with an escort of cavalry. 
Thursday, 19th 

Rode a grey pony to town belonging to Hay and Thomas. 
Price $80. Too high. Reached camp at sunset. 
Friday, 20th, 1873 

Went to town with a team and Scott, Campbell and Patti- 
son. Rode a black pony of H. & O. Like him pretty well. Price 
$60. Got caught in a hail storm. Reached camp at sundown. 
Brought in large stone for Astronomical station — a foot square, 
seven ft. long, price $12.50. On 19 Campbell and Pat killed 
Saturday, 21st 

With Lew, Al and Geo. Scott went to town. The eastern 
train brought the long expected level, C. O. D. $84.20, an out- 
rageous price. Had new spring made for large transit. Got 
stone hammer. Letters from Aut. Heard from Supt. Sickles 
through Sur. Genl. Latham. Nothing definite. Rode home with 
Thomas Campbell. Killed two antelope. Found that Matt and 


Dick had almost finished dressing the stone shaft — 25 saved 
thereby. Weather very hot in Omaha and the East — but pleas- 
ant here— Men— on the 20th H. F. Clark, Prest. U. P. R. R. 
died very suddenly. 
Thursday, 26th 

Have spent this week in getting ready to move, and at 
9 :00 a. m. pulled out. Made ten miles on the line, camping at a 
spring — Lon went to Cheyenne. Saw Sickles. He will do noth- 
ing for us. 
Friday, 27th 

Started for Dale Creek thinking it was 12 miles. Found the 
country very rough. Crossing Box Elder canon, on the bank 
of which the 62nd mile came — Had team on line till 1 :00 p. m. 
Ate lunch. Ran till sundown making 9 miles and no sign of 
camp. Found team awaiting us near old saw mill. Reached 
camp at 10 :00 p. m., 15 hrs. since breakfast. 
Saturday, 28th 

Did not move camp. "Went with team to work. Was until 
4:00 p. m. running 5 miles coming out — South of camp — very 
rough — Wrote to Aut & P. M's. We are now south of Sher- 
man, the nearest station. Will send up tomorrow and when 
we reach the Laramie River Campbell and I will go to Laramie, 
40 miles. 
Sunday, 29th 

Left camp at 7 :00 a. m., crossed Dale Creek on 1st miles 
(69th). Very rough. Took lunch at 3rd mile — brought out by 
Lon — Made 5 miles camping on Fish Creek at 43rd miles. 
Which mile crosses a mountain too high for chaining so we 
triangulated. Received letter from Alice. Only one that came 
— Weather all fine — nights cool — Line timbered with pine, 
hemlock, birch and Aspern. 
Monday, 30th 

Ran 4 miles camping at McGreavy's tie camp near Dia- 
mond Mt. Reached camp at 7 :00 p. m. Boys killed a yearling 
elk. Stood guard — rained in p. m. 
Tuesday, July 1st, 1873 

Ran line 4% miles. Very rough. Heavy timber. Ther- 
mometer 48 degrees above. Camp in deep canon at foot of 
Boulder Ridge Summit of Black Hills. 
Wednesday, 2nd 

Ran one and *4 miles working ten (10) hours. Heavy tim- 
ber. Camp near line. 
Thursday, 3rd 

Took an azimuth last night. Byers got his back up because 
we changed him from the teams to the line and left. Moved 


camp 4% miles west to the plain. Ran the line same distance 
leaving timber on the 85th mile. Dick killed an antelope — 
Billie went to Laramie. 
Friday, July 4th 

97th anniversary. Pleasant and cool — Didn't work. Billie 
returned at 11 :00 a. m. bringing letters and papers. Received 
letters from Wiltze, Aut. Miss H. and Judge W. Wrote to D. 
Miss H. and Alice — Are now camped on south edge of Laramie 
Plains. Snow capped Mts. to N. W. and S. W. and "W. & S. 
Black Hills behind us, Mts. ahead. 
Saturday, 5th 

Left camp at 10:00 a. m. Ran 7^2 miles. Country rough, 
but well watered. Camped on small stream at 4 :30 p. m. After 
supper, Bert and I mounted on mules started to explore to- 
morrow's line a little. When just out of sight of camp, over a 
hill, dismounted and fired at some antelope. I killed two, the 
second at two hundred yards running. Our mules ran back to 
camp. The boys thought we had been attacked and turned out 
to help us. Got our mules and proceeded on. Returned to camp 
at 11 :00 p. m. On guard. 
Sunday, 6th 

Left camp at 6 :00 a. m. Reached Poplar mountain at noon. 
Quite heavy poplar timber on top of Mt. Patterson saw a bear 
— Billie failed to find us with lunch and water and we ran to 
the Big Laramie, which we reached at 6 :30 p. m. without either. 
Weather pleasant. Reached river on the 103rd mile. 
Monday, 7th 

Lon, Billie and Mack went to Laramie 35 miles away. We 
are stopping here to establish an astronomical station. Laramie 
River is about two chains wide swift running, clear water and 
pebble bottom — MacConnell got good observations early in the 
evening. Pat got an antelope. 
Tuesday, 8th 

Wrote letters home and sent them up by a stranger. Lon 
returned at 6 :00 p. m. Bringing some additional supplies. He 
applied for an escort to Gen. Ord to come down here from Rus- 
sell and follow us. Found a stone on west side of River for our 
monument. Boys got it in shape for planting. 
Wednesday, 9th 

No observations last night — Too cloudy. Campbell and I 
went out west to explore the line. Got caught in a rain. Killed 
a young antelope for dinner (by Bert) and ate most of it. I 
killed a buck before leaving camp, near the tents ; also killed a 
buck while out exploring because he had a queer looking head 
— Found it was owing to a crooked horn. Found plenty of 


game — all antelope. Found the road quite rough and heavily 
timbered. Reached camp at 6:00 p. m. If the Prof, gets "good 
stars" tonight we may get away tomorrow. 
Thursday, July 10th 

Cannot move today, as Mac wants another night to work 
in. Took mail .down to a ranch near here and left it. Campbell 
and Ben went back on the line to make some corrections. 
Heavy rain and hail in p. m. Set 2nd Latitude monument at 
103rd mile. 27 chs. west of Laramie River. Sand stone with 
large mound of stone. 
Friday, 11th 

Lon with the party who run the line left camp at 7 :00 a. 
m. to proceed with the line. Lon will run to next station and I 
run camp. Crossed the Laramie 1% miles north of camp, got 
the team upon the level by doubling and camped at 12 :00 M. 
for dinner on small stream running east. The boys ran three 
(3) miles before dinner and 1% in p. m. returning to the camp 
at night. Storm of wind and rain at sunset. Killed an antelope. 
Saturday, 12th 

Boys were on line at 6:30 a. m. Arthur and I took a hunt 
from 6 :30 to 9 :00 a. m., killed nothing. Took dinner to boys 
and had camp moved along the road. Met them and follow 
road running up Douglas Creek just north of line. Camped 
opposite the 110 links and 10 chains point, on N. side Douglas 
Creek. Took an Azimuth in the woods on the line early in the 
evening. Dick quite unwell day before yesterday. Nearly well 
now but has a sprained or swollen wrist and stays in camp. 
George Scott taken quite sick this morning — an attack of 
bilious fever I think. 
Sunday, 13th 

Very cold last night. Mercury only 28 degrees above half 
an hour after sunrise. Boys left camp at 6 :15. Took bay pony 
and started west to scout the road. Went nine miles from which 
could see the North Platte bottom — Summit of Medicine Bow 
Mts. — four miles west of here. Reached camp again at 10:00 
a. m. Had a good ride. At 11 took dinner to men on line. 
Cannot move camp nearer to the line than we now are, so will 
remain here. Men made 1% miles on line. Very heavy timber. 
Ben killed a deer. 
Monday, July 14th 

Cold again last night. Thermometer this morning at 5 :30, 
only 24 degrees above. Took dinner to boys on foot. Moved 
camp west over summit of Mts. and camped in a little open 
valley 20 chs. E. of 114th mile on line. After making camp 
went out looking for a way over the Mts. Killed two antelope. 


Tuesday, 15th 

With Billie left camp at 6 :20 — mounted on mules — took 
old road south through a little valley; eight miles from line 
entered North Park, which is simply a large basin or open 
park, without timber. Surrounded on southeast and west with 
snow capped mountains and bare Mts. on the north. The North 
Platte rises in the Park which is about 15 miles in diameter I 
should think. We found a pass out of the Park over a Mt. to 
the Platte and a crossing over the river. After which we re- 
turned to camp over the mountains. Each killed a black tail 
deer coming in. Reached camp at 3 :00 p. in. Too late to move 
camp. So sent Fred out to find the men and pilot them in. He 
got lost in woods, and but for meeting Bob the whole party 
would have slept out. It was impossible to get camp much 
nearer the quitting place for the men — they made about three 
miles of line. 
Wednesday, 16th 

Packed two mules and the bay pony Avith provisions and 
blankets and sent them on the line, as the men will sleep out 
tonight. With the camp started at 10:00 a. m. to go south into 
the Park. Reached and crossed the Platte before 5:00 p. m. 
Drove north two miles and camped on small stream, using sage- 
brush for fuel. 
Thursday, 17th 

Found the line two miles north of our camping place at 
9 o'clock a. m. The boys reached the river early this morning 
and crossed with no greater losses than that of a pick, spade 
and ax, which Pattison lost in crossing. Made camp four miles 
west of the river on small stream at foot of mountain range. 
Camped at 3:00 p. m. After which took a mule and scouted 
west for a road over the Mts. Found a tie cabin three miles 
north of line in timber. Camp near 124th mile and four chains 
north of line. 

Friday, 18th 

Broke camp at 8 :00 a. m. Drove north and crossed the Mt. 
A rough road and hard work. Camped at 3:00 p. m. 3 chs. 
north of line and 10 chs. west of 130th mile post on small swift 
stream running north. 
Saturday, 19th 

Left camp at 8 :00 a. m. to move west over another moun- 
tain range. Had a hard ascent to make, requiring eight mules 
to take up the lightest load. At 1 :15 p. m. was about 10 chs. 
W. of camp, 40 chs. south and 15 chs. higher. Camped at 3:30 
p. m. on swift running stream, going north with a similar one 
20 chs. east of us and Mts. all around us. Raining all p. m. The 


camp is on the 133 degree mile. Took an azimuth. Lon killed 

an antelope. 

Sunday, July 20th, 1873 

Did not work. Lon and I rode over the Mts. to look for 
a way over with the teams. Found an old blazed road. Much 
speculation as to who made it. Ate our lunch on a snow bank 
10,000 ft. above the level of the sea. Mosquitoes very bad there. 
Boys picking wild strawberries in, camp at foot of Mt. Camp- 
bell killed an antelope. Rained in p. m. 
Monday, 21st 

Lon and party went on with line. Billie going out with 
pack mules to supply them bed and board. Went with Neal to 
clear fallen timber from the road. Hunted in p. m. George 
Scott still sick but improving. Pattison came in feeling unwell. 
The change of climate is too great for some of the boys. Line 
running through heavy woods, 2% miles. 
Tuesday, 22nd 

Rose at daylight to hunt, as the boys must have game on 
the lines. Came into breakfast at 5 :00 a. m. Left camp again 
at 5 :30 and in 20 minutes had an antelope. The largest yet. 
Weighing over a hundred pounds dressed and very fat. Rode 
put on line. Pound the boys eating dinner on a snow bank 
with a smudge to keep off the mosquitoes. The line crosses the 
road on the 138th mile. Continental Divide. We will move 
Wednesday, 23rd 

Broke camp at 7 :00 a. m. Took dinner on side of moun- 
tain. Crossed over summit and camped on small stream y 2 mile 
S. of 139th mile post. Billie came in with his pack train and 
took out a new supply of provisions. 
Thursday, 24th 

Left camp at 6 :00 a. m. and prospected for the road which 
we have been following. Traced it to a ravine where it crosses 
our line. Broke camp at 10 :00 a. m. Reached the line and 
camped a little north and a few chains east of 142nd M. P. on 
which mile the road crosses the line to the N. Quite a stream 
just north of camp running west which we take to be Little 
Snake River. Mts. all around us. The men on line came into 
camp and it seemed quite a reunion. Had a slight touch of a 
mountain thunder storm near dark. The thunder roared and 
crashed through the valleys in a terrible manner. 
Friday, July 25th, 1873 

Left camp at 6 :15 a. m. road hunting. Found a camping 
place on a small stream running north on the last Vo of 144th 
mile btwn. two N. & S. Mts. Killed a black tailed deer just in 


the place for camp. Broke camp at 10 :30 and moved over Mt. 
and camped at 3 :30 in a hailstorm. Yesterday, our line ran 
along a stream which it crossed five times. Today over a high 
mountain. The line is running through heavy timber and the 
men make but two (2) miles per day. Slow progress, and cold 
nights approaching. 
Saturday, 26th 

Moved west and camped on stream 50 Iks. wide running 
north — y 2 S. of 145th post. Rained in p. m. Billie went out to 
line with his pack train. Had difficulty in tracing our old road. 
Sunday, July 27th 

Broke camp at 7 :00 a. m. — Dinner on stream running north 
about a mile north of the line. Quite a heavy rain about noon. 
At 2 :00 p. m. the teams moved west and I took bread and 
venison and started S. to the line which I readily found. Ben 
being unwell came back to camp with me. Camp about north 
of 149th post — 1V 2 miles. 
Monday, 28th 

Left camp on pony to find road at 6 :00 a. m. Traced it 
south over a high mountain and fortunately found the line on 
S. side. Took Billy and his pack mules and returned to camp 
at 12 :00 m. Was camped on line at 5 :00 p. m. McConnel went 
out to the line to assist in taking an Azimuth. Billie and outfit 
also went out. Mat and Dick came in to camp. Rained in p. m. 
Tuesday, 29th 

Left camp at 6:15 a. m. Found that our road runs on 
south from here to a range of Mts. and is of no further service 
so we must chop our way through. The field party are now 
two miles ahead of us. In p. m. went out to line and a mile 
beyond the party, from which point I could see an open coun- 
try ahead extending to a range of Mts. perhaps fifty miles dis- 
tant. Reported the discovery to the boys and there was joy in 
camp. After working three weeks in heavy timber an open 
prairie looks beautiful. Marked a road back through the woods 
for the boys to chop out tomorrow for the teams and we will 
move on. Thermometer below freezing in camp this morning 
while in the other camp on the Mts. at an elevation of 10,000 
ft. it was 47 degrees above zero. Dick sick this morning but 
went on the line this p. m. Texas in camp sick. McConnel still 
on line and Matt in camp. 
"Wednesday, 30th, '73 

Left camp at 6:00 a. m. Reached the line at 8. Found 
Lon taking a long sight over all the timber ahead of us — prob- 
ably two miles. Traveled a while with Billie and his train hunt- 
ing a passage down the Mt. Found none. While I was gone, 


the boys were chopping out the road — Got back to them at 2 :00 
p. m. Found them about half way along with the teams. Road 
steep and through timber — Lots of chopping. Billie came in 
for "grub" at 4 :00 p. m. Had seen nothing of them since morn- 
ing. There is some danger of their laying out tonight. Went 
into camp near 152nd post at 6:00 p. m. Have discovered no 
way down the Mts. 3 T et. Must find one tomorrow. 
Thursday, 31st. 1873~ 

Left camp at 6 :00 a. m. Blazed a road to foot of Mt. Re- 
turned to camp at 9:00 a. m. and with three of the men went 
to work chopping out a road. Ben and Lew came in from line 
to help. Lon and party are out of the woods. I wish we were. 
The way looks pretty bad over the Mts. 
Friday, Aug. 1st 

Left camp at 6 :00 a. m. while the men were clearing the 
road to the foot of the Mt. Blazed a road around the south side 
of the same. At 10:00 a. m. Bert, Dick and Pat came to us to 
help us over. The remainder of the line party being in camp 
awaiting us. Passed over the highest part of the Mts. and 
camped on low divide on line near 155 m. p. Stood guard 40 
minutes a piece. 
Saturday, Aug. 2nd 

Broke camp at 7 :30 and started down the Mt. Met Lon 
about 11:00 a. m. Reached Snake River at noon, crossed it 
twice and at 2:30 reached the other camp. Quite a reunion, 
having been separated a week. Our pass over the Mts. was a 
rough one and long to be remembered and now we can sing 
"out of the wilderness." An old miner named Duickl stayed 
with Lon's party last night. The first man we have seen for 
over a month. Two other miners with us tonight. They are at 
work 22 miles south of here on Henz peak or what used to be 
the Bear River diggins. Not much gold, about wages. We ap- 
parently have an open though broken country ahead of us and 
hope to make better time hereafter. We will run another day 
and then put in a station. Are now camped on Snake River. 
Lon and I scouted ahead a few miles this p. m. and Lon killed 
an antelope. Campbell did also. "Ain't I glad I'm out of the 
wilderness." Karner, a miner working at Henz Peak, went 
east to the divide on south end of North Park prospecting with 
Perkins. Both young men. About July 25th accidently shot 
himself through the leg. His companion returned to camp for 
help and upon returning found him dead. These facts given us 
by James Carroll, a miner and friend of Karner 's. 


Sunday, Aug. 3rd 

Moved camp west about 5 miles, crossing the Snake River 
twice and driving up a steep mountain side camped on line at 
the 163rd mile post on plain near Sheep Mt. and a few miles 
S. E. of Battle Mt. where the Utes and Arapahoes or the latter 
and trappers — (had a fight) which lasted ten days. Note by 
Copyist — Something seems left out here) * * * Nothing 
definite about it. Erected post for observations as we will put 
in a station here. Lon and Texas caught a fine string of trout 
and Pat killed a goose. 
Monday, Aug. 4th 

Trout and cornbread for breakfast. Spent the greater por- 
tion of the day hunting a stone suitable for the monument at 
this place. Found one and got it to camp all right. Max went 
out in the morning on Sheep Mt. just west of here and killed a 
mountain sheep and an antelope. Lon went out in p. m. after 
supper and killed a sheep and a black tailed buck. Professor 
got some pretty fair observations last night. Cloudy and rainy 
at dark. Boys caught lots of trout. 
Tuesday, 5th 

Went trout fishing. "Caught 'en you bet." (Washed out 
clothes and mended my breeches (confidential). Campbell 
killed two antelope. No stars last night so the work of the 
night before is worthless too. 
Wednesday, 6th 

Lounged about camp. Wrote to Nellie B. Good observa- 
tions last night. Campbell and I strolled over to Sheep Mt. 
After supper. I killed a young buck on the steep side of the 
Mt. Shot him through the head and heart. Campbell wounded 
one. Was on guard last night. 
Thursday, 7th 

A duplicate of yesterday. Weather pleasant. Wrote to 
Alice. Went out with Lon in p. m. He killed a black tailed 
buck. Have high living nowadays and no work. Deer, antelope, 
sheep, geese, trout and grouse, breakfast 8 and dinner 3. 
Friday, 8th 

McConnel completed his observations last night. Today 
we will set the stone and move on — Weather fine — Wrote home 
— Later. As we couldn't get started today, it being late when 
Mr. McC completed the reduction of his observs. We concluded 
to do nothing until tomorrow. Cloudy at sunset. 
Saturday, 9th 

Found our line 252 ft. south of our tent. Set stone shaft 
with huge old mound and elk horns on top. Lon went on with 
line. Left camp at 11 :00 a. m. Camped on the river on W. side 


of Sheep Mt. (which we crossed on 165th mile) near the 158th 
M. C. Explored Battle Mt. on a mule. Reached camp at dark. 
Raining. Lon killed a she black bear. 
Sunday, 10th 

Breakfast at 5 :00 a. m. Men left camp at 5 :30. Camp in 
motion at 6 :30. Camped at 2 :00 p. m. on the river 20 chs. N. of 
175. 40 chs. Killed an antelope. Supper at 5 :00 p. m. No 
Monday, 11th 

Broke camp at 6 :00 a. m. and moved down Snake River. 
Three miles from camp found Reader's Ranch. An old Galenian. 
Bought of him flour, baking powder, thread and buckskin. 
Two (2) miles further found Slater & Brown's Ranche. Jim 
Baker, the old partner of Bridger, also lives there. The latter 
with three teams just starting for Rawlins for winter supplies. 
Sent in mail. Learned that Bridger 's Pass is about twenty (20) 
miles north of where we crossed the Mts. and the settlers very 
much surprised that we could cross elsewhere. Four miles 
below Slater's is Perkin's store. Bought of him baking powder, 
tobacco and pick. Went south to line on pony. Found it IV2 
miles south of river. Came back, took on wood and water, 
crossed river and struck S. W. to the line. Made dry camp in 
sagebrush at (186) M. C. Men made 11 miles on line. Raining 
at dark. 
Tuesday, Aug. 12th 

Broke camp at 6 :30. Took dinner on the Snake — where the 
line crossed at 192nd M. C. In p. m. went S. around a bend and 
camped at 6 :00 p. m. on S. side and on line at 197 m. 20 chs. 
Took an Azimuth in evening. 
Wednesday, 13th 

Broke camp at 6 :30. Brought teams on line to the river 
which we crossed on the 1st Y\ of the 204th mile. Had dinner 
near 204th M. C. Then turned north to get around the bluffs. 
Got about four miles N. of line. Got back to the line at sun- 
down. Camped on dry creek at 308 m. 20 chs. Have now aver- 
aged nine (9) miles on line from last station. The country here 
perfectly worthless. Nothing but sagebrush and greasewood. 
Soil sandy clay. 

To be concluded in July number. 



In January Annals on page 410, tenth line from bottom of page Mr. 
Bishop's initials should be L. 0. 

On page 416, seventh line from top of page, is the end of manuscript 
written by Mr. Albert W. Johnson. The two paragraphs which follow 
are an introduction to the manuscript written by and signed by William 
Francis Hooker. This manuscript begins the twenty-third line from top 
of page 416. Mr. Hooker also wrote the manuscript which begins on 
page 421. These manuscripts complete the history of the Bill Hooker 
cabin on the La Bonte. 

On page 438 the footnote should read Vol. 3, No. 4, p. 222. 

The illness of the State Historian at the time the January Annals 
was in press accounts for these errors. 

On account of legislative work the publishers did not deliver Jan- 
uary Annals until March 9th. 

The very small appropriation made by the Twenty-first Legislature 
for the Historical Department makes it imperative that the Department 
of History issue Annals for the present biennium without illustrations. 


(January 1931 to April 1931) 


Richardson, Thomas G. — Cartridge (Holland & Holland 500 calibre) 
belonging to a buffalo gun which is in possession of the State Historical 
Department. "This cartridge came from Green River from an old 
hunter by the name of Boon, years ago. ' ' 

Carroll, Major C. G. — Bhotostat copies of (1) letter written by Bill 
Carlisle, train bandit, to the Denver Post, Denver, Colorado, April 10, 
1916; (2) envelope in which the above letter was enclosed; (3) watch and 
chain taken by the bandit from passengers on Train No. 18 on February 
4, 1916, between Green River and Rock Springs, Wyoming. Two pic- 
tures of Governor William B. Ross taken at the time the troops were in 
review — 1925. 

Hopkins, Mrs. Ruth Joy — Two etchings of the Platte Bridge Station, 
Idaho Territory, 1865, by Mrs. Hopkins. 

Wills, Miss Olive — Two Christmas cards drawn by the Wyoming 
artist, Harold Curey. 

Newton, L. L. — Token used for money at old Camp Brown. 

Pease, Mrs. Vera Jane — Collection of World War relics consisting of 
a musette bag, gas mask and case, helmet, cooking pan and rubber cap. 

Wayo, Mrs. Alexander — Two reprints showing the hanging in Lara- 
mie on the night of October 18, 1868, of Big Ned, Con Wager and Asa 
Moore and the interior and exterior of the Bon Ton Saloon -which was 
owned at that time by Con Wager and Asa Moore. 

Dunlap, Mrs. R. G. — Stuffed owl, swift and weasel killed by Dr. 
Wyman about 30 to 40 years ago in the vicinity of Cheyenne. 


Jackson, Richard J. — Picture of Captain Seth Bullock and cowboys 
taken in Washington, D. C, March 4, 1905. This group consists of 40 
men, largely from Weston County. Another picture of these men taken 
while seeing New York in an automobile. 

Original Manuscripts 
Canterbury, Hazel — "Wyoming Art and Artists." 

Watson, John M. — Life and adventures of Mr. Watson while in 
Mexico about 1915, written by himself. 

State Geologist 's Office — ' ' Spanish Diggins ' ' written by G. H. Smith 
of Minneapolis, Minnesota. 

Goodnough, Mrs. J. H. — "Sacajawea." 

Thomas, David G. and Goodnough, Mrs. J. H. — "Memories of the 
Chinese Eiot ' ' told by Mr. Thomas to his daughter, Mrs. Goodnough, and 
written by her. 

Douglass, Mrs. Ruth — "An Overland Trip to Wyoming," May 29, 
1895, by Mrs. Hannah Lee, grandmother of Mrs. Douglass. 


Fryxell, F. M. — "Report on the Exploration of the Yellowstone 
River'' by Bvt. Brig. Gen. W. F. Raynolds, 1868. "Geological Report of 
the Exploration of the Yellowstone and Missouri Rivers" by Dr. F. V. 
Hayden, 1869. 

Hastie, Eunice — Minute book of the Industrial Club of Luther (the 
name formerly given to Burns), Wyoming, 1908, John C. Hastie, 


Fryxell, F. M. — "Glacial Feature of Jackson Hole, Wyoming" by 
Professor Fryxell. 

Hinrichs, O. W.— Two copies of "The Goldenrod ' ' January, 1931, 
published by Mr. Hinrichs, containing the article entitled "Reveries — 
Fort Laramie. " 

Pease, Mrs. Vera Jane— "His Cartoons of the A. E. F. " by Pvt. 
Abian A. Wallgren, U. S. M. C. "The Rhine and Its Legends," a 
souvenir of the days of the American Army of Occupation in Germany. 


Spaugh, A. A.— Four copies of the article "1884 Round-ups of the 
Wyoming Stock Growers Association" — William C. Irvine, President. 

Carnegie Library, Cheyenne — Newspaper clipping dated December 
24, 1877, containing history about Cheyenne. 

Pease, Mrs. Vera Jane — Stars and Stripes Newspaper, Fridav, June 
13, 1919. 

Wyoming Labor Journal Publishing Company — Bound volume "Wyo- 
ming Labor Journal" 1930.