GRANDPA TALES

It was somewhere around the 3rd of October in 1879, when we left Hewins for Belvedere.  The round up out there would start about the 10th and we had to be there.  It took about 10 days by wagon, but Grandpa said by riding good horses we could make it in about 5 days or maybe 6 easy, and sooner if we pushed somewhat.  We crossed a lot of country and forded a lot of creeks and rivers the next few days.  And we got into Medicine Lodge the evening of the 4th day.  That night I slept in my first hotel.  We got a room with 2 beds for 75 cents and breakfast cost 30 cents extra.

We left Medicine Lodge at 4:30 that morning and rode in the dark for the first hour and a half.  There had been trees along the creeks and stuff ever since we left Hewins, but now as the sun peeked up and the dawn come in, I could tell that this was a different country.  The only trees we saw that day were near springs or creeks.  The deer and antelope were everywhere and even a Buffalo now and then.  But Grandpa said there were not many Buffalo left here.  They were mostly up north,  the ones that were left.

We made the ranch about 8 that night and I got my first look at how rough the plains could be.  As we rode in some of the ranch hands came out to take our horses, and they told Grandpa they had found the foreman, Zeke, out by Turkey Creek.  And some Indians had really worked him over.  We went in the ranch house to see what had happened and Grandma had Zeke laying on the table under the lamp that she had hanging from the rafter.  His shirt was off and he had a big bandage around his ribs.  One pant leg was cut off and his leg was bandaged.  Also his head was wrapped up and bloody.  Grandma said, “Well, William it’s about time you got back before everyone on this ranch got butchered.”  Come to find out Indians had jumped Zeke at the Sand Creek Crossing and shot him in the leg and chest.  When he took the hit in the chest, he fell from his horse.  He saw them coming for him.  He thought he was dead anyway so he just acted that way.  Those red devils kicked him a couple of times.  Then when he didn’t move they lifted his scalp.  When they left, he got up grabbed some mud and packed mud on his head and started walking home.

Some of the fellas from the ranch met him on the way and brought him to Grandma for fixing.  She had been working on him for about 4 hours, and she thought he would live.  She said the shot that got him in the chest had got a rib and stopped.  She just dug that bullet out.  The one in the leg had lodged and she had to really work to get it out. 

Zeke had lost the front part of his scalp and some blood, but he had several good Indian fights left in him.  Zeke swore, if he ever found that Indian with his scalp, he would know it.  And by God he‘d kill him and bury his scalp.  He said a man should be buried all in one piece or at least all of his pieces.