CHAPTER X

WHY SATANK KILLED PEACOCK

After supper, as we lay on our beds in the tent talking over old times, Jack recalled to my mind the Cheyenne campaign of 1857 and how we used to gather wild plums in the sand-hills near where we were now camped. He spoke also of a man bitten by a rattlesnake near here. This called out a story from Tom, who said:

"Speakin' of rattlesnakes reminds me of a little incident that happened out in New Mexico when I was in the old First Dragoons. I was a sergeant, an' we had a new recruit in the company by the name of Nesbit--a mighty quiet sort of a feller that the men called a 'stoughton-bottle,' or a 'bump on a log'--a good man for duty, only he didn't make free with the other men or have much to say to anybody. He had a fashion in hot weather, when he was loungin' about camp off duty, of goin' barefooted, with the bottoms of his pants an' drawers rolled up several inches.

"One day, when we was camped on the Rio Grande, water call had jest gone, an' we'd all started out from our tents to water our horses an' picket 'em out on fresh grass. I was walkin' a few steps behind Nesbit when I heard the whiz-whir of a rattlesnake in the direction of the man, an' as I looked to'rds him I was horrified to see a big rattler that seemed to have hold of one of his ankles an' was a-jerkin' an' squirmin' an' wrappin' itself all 'round his leg; but, as I found out afterward, the snake had struck at his ankle an' caught a mouthful of the roll of Nesbit's trousers an' got his fangs tangled so's he couldn't git loose but hadn't touched the leg at all.

"Well, sir, I was nearly paralyzed with fear an' was tryin' to think of some way I could help the man but didn't see how. He never said a word, but just reached down as cool as ef he was goin' to pluck a flower, grabbed the snake right back of its head so close it couldn't turn to bite his hand when it got its fangs loose, then pulled its fangs loose from the roll of his trousers an' pulled the snake away from where it was wrapped around his leg. It coiled itself around his arm an' kep' its rattle a-hummin', and I couldn't imagine how he was goin' to get rid of it without gettin' bit.

"Well, it all happened quicker'n scat, an' while I was a-tryin' to study out some way I could help him out he knew just what to do an' was a-doing it without asking anybody's help.

"He just reached for his belt with the other hand, pulled his butcher-knife, sliced the snake's head off clean--taking a slice out of his finger in doing it, shook the snake loose from his arm an' dropped it, stooped down an' dug a little hole with his knife, raked the snake's head into it an' covered it up so's nobody would tramp on it with bare feet an' get pizened, wiped his knife on his britches' leg an' returned it to the sheath, tore a piece off his ol' hankercher an' wrapped his cut finger up, an' went on an' 'tended to his horse--all without sayin' a word or makin' any fuss; an' when I got my breath enough to say, 'Nesbit, that was a close call,' he merely remarked indifferent like: 'Yes, but you know a miss is as good as a mile.'

"It had all been done so quietly an' quickly that the other men passin' by hadn't noticed what was goin' on.

"Well, sir, I count that one of the coolest, grittiest things I ever saw done, an' when I got back to camp I went an' told the orderly sergeant about it, an' he had to go an' tell the captain; an' then the captain sent for me, an' I had to tell him all the particulars; an' when I got through all the ol' man had to say was, 'He'll do,' but I could see that the captain was mightily pleased with the raw recruit.

"Well, the upshot of it was the next evenin' at 'retreat' the orderly sergeant published an order to the company to the effect that 'Private Nesbit is hereby appointed corporal an' will be obeyed an' respected accordingly.'

"You see, the captain saw from that little affair of the snake that Nesbit was something more than a 'bump on a log,' an' so he give the man a lift to start him, an' in a little while he was made sergeant; an' then, when the ol' orderly sergeant's time was out an' he was discharged, Nesbit was made first sergeant right over the heads of us old hands who'd been in the service a heap longer. But he deserved it, an' I never begrudged him the promotion, for he made one of the best orderly sergeants I ever knew--always the same quiet, cool, nervy Nesbit."

"I always told you," remarked Jack, "that it won't do to set a man down for a fool 'cause his clo's don't fit him.

"Changin' the subject," said Jack, "it's about five miles from here up to Charley Rath's ranch, at the mouth of Walnut Creek; ain't it, Tom?"

"Yes; five miles to Walnut Creek, sixteen from there to Pawnee Rock, eight miles from the Rock to the crossin' of Ash Creek, six from Ash Creek to Pawnee Fork, an' three miles, after crossing Pawnee Fork, on up the creek will bring us to Fort Larned, which is two miles and a half off the Santa Fé road, but in plain sight of it."

"I was thinkin'," continued Jack, "about the Walnut Creek ranch an' some o' the lively times it's seen since I first know'd it. In '57, when we come out here on the Cheyenne expedition, Allison owned it. Many's the time the Injuns made life a burden to Allison, but still he saved his scalp an' died on the square. In '58 he left his hired man, Peacock, in charge of the ranch while he took his teams an' went in to Westport, Missouri, after goods. On that trip Allison died suddenly at Westport, an', as he had no kinsfolk at the ranch an' none ever come out to claim it, Peacock jumped the claim an' held it as his own. He, too, had some lively times with the Injuns an' was finally killed by ol' Satank, in the summer of 1860. An' then Charley Rath jumped the claim an' still holds it, but more'n likely he, too, will lose his napper to some o' the Indians yet. It was near the ranch, when Peacock had it, that Pawnee, the Kiowa chief, was killed by Lieutenant Bayard; wasn't it?"

"Yes," I replied, "I was in at the death and had an opportunity to have done the killing myself that day, but Lieutenant Bayard came up and took the job off my hands. You see, I was one of the first to mount and start in chase of the Indian after he'd escaped from the ranch, mounted his horse, and was racing across the level prairie north of the ranch. I was riding that speedy little bay horse that we called 'Greased Lightning,' that the officers used in making races. I'd got the start of Bayard and the rest, overtook the Indian in about a mile and was right alongside of him, with Lieutenant Bayard coming up just behind me, and when I called back to the lieutenant to ask whether I should shoot the Kiowa he replied, 'No, let me speak to him,' and I gave way and let Bayard come in between me and Pawnee. Bayard called on him a couple of times to halt, on the second demand firing a shot in front of the Indian as a warning, and when he found that the Indian only jeered and made faces at him the lieutenant reined in a little and let the Kiowa go ahead, and, as he did so, dropped his pistol to Pawnee's back, saying, 'Take it, then,' and let him have it--shooting him through the heart. Pawnee threw up his hands and fell off his horse dead."

"Well, by rights," said Jack, "you'd overtook the Injun first an' had the best right to have done that job, but Bayard took advantage of his bein' an officer over you to hog the honors."

"I didn't consider that there was any particular honor in killing that Indian, under the circumstances," I replied, "but I should have done so if the lieutenant had said the word. But Bayard seemed to think that the Indian would halt and surrender on his demand, and when the Kiowa not only refused to yield but defied him, why, there was nothing else to do but to kill him. We thought it strange at first that Pawnee should act so defiantly when we had the drop on him, but Peacock told us when we got back to the ranch that this Indian carried a medicine or charm hung around his neck that was supposed to protect him from a white man's bullet, and when the lieutenant fired a shot and missed him he was sure he was bullet-proof; but Bayard's bullet killed him so quick that he hardly had time to feel disappointed."

"I don't know but what it was best, after all," remarked old Tom, "seein' that the Injun had to be killed, for an officer to do it, for after that shot the Kiowas started on the war-path an' caused the loss of a good many lives of innocent people an' give the troops a whole lot of trouble an' hard service for a year or more afterward. Ef it had 'a' been an enlisted man fired that shot he'd 'a' been court-martialled an' punished, more'n likely, instead of being honored. So I guess Peck lost nothin' by it, for Bayard was sharply reprimanded an' had to do a whole lot of explaining to get out of trouble for that little job. As to the killing of Pawnee bein' the real cause of the Kiowa outbreak, that was the idea that some fool people back East got of it; but none of us ever believed that, for we knew from the actions of ol' Satank an' his band for some time before that, they was bound to go on the war-path with or without provocation, an' they seized on the killin' of one o' their chiefs as an excuse for turnin' loose on the Pike's Peak emigrants an' others along the road."

"You'll remember," said Jack, "that I wasn't with you the next summer on the Kiowa expedition, for I'd been left back at Fort Riley, in the hospital, but I know Peck an' you"--speaking directly to Tom--"was both with Major Sedgwick's command in this part of the country when Peacock was killed; an', as I've heard two or three different stories about that affair, I'd like to know the straight of it. Tell me jist how it happened."

"Well, sir," began old Tom as he raised up and began whittling another pipeful of tobacco, "I can give you the straight facts about that scrape, for I got 'em from Charley Rath an' the sick man--you know at the time Satank killed Peacock there was a man sick in bed in the ranch that the Injuns never touched, an' he was the only one of Peacock's men left alive, 'cept Wild Bill an' John Adkins, an' they was away from the ranch somewhere. After peace was made with the Kiowas an' they got to comin' around to the Walnut Creek ranch to trade ag'in, Charley Rath was runnin' it, an' he got all the particulars about it from the Indians who was with Satank when he killed Peacock. So I think I got it pretty straight.

"You'll remember that we--that is, Major Sedgwick's command of four companies of First Cavalry from Fort Riley--had been chasin' the Kiowas' round over the plains all summer, but hadn't been able to get a fight out of 'em 'cept that little scrimmage our detachment of forty men under Jeb Stuart had with Satank an' a little bunch up north of Bent's Fort, where we killed eight of 'em an' captured all their women an' children an' packs.

"Captain Sturgis, with four companies from Fort Arbuckle, had also come up into this country on the same errand as us--huntin' the Kiowas--an' he'd had better luck, for he caught 'em up on the Republican Fork an' had a nice little fight an' killed a whole lot of 'em.

"I'm givin' you all this preamble to give you a clear idee of the situation that led up to the killing of Peacock. There was a slight split among the Kiowas durin' this war, for ol' To hausen--Little Mountain--their head chief, with a few of the cool-headed older warriors of the tribe, had refused to join Satank an' the hostiles in makin' war on the whites, an' To hausen, with his little band, had kept out o' the way for fear of bein' mistaken by us for the hostiles. But the biggest part of the tribe, under the leadership of Satank an' Satanta an' Big Tree, was a-doin' their level best to wipe out every white man, woman, an' child on the plains.

"Satank was the recognized leader of the hostiles an' was always very bitter in his hatred of the whites.

"As our two commands, Sturgis's an' Sedgwick's, had kep' him on the jump purty lively durin' the summer, an' he'd got the worst of it all 'round, 'long in the last of August or fore part of September, I think it was, Satank seemed to conclude--as the time was soon coming when the Injun agent at Bent's Fort would be a-giving out the annuities that Uncle Sam sends out every fall to the peaceable Injuns--that he'd better make a treaty with Major Sedgwick for the winter, anyway, so's him an' his band could come in for their share of the presents. So he applied to Peacock for a letter of recommendation to Major Sedgwick, thinkin' that a letter from such a prominent trader would help him to make easy terms with Sedgwick.

"'Well, sir, right there's where Peacock made the blunder of his life, an' it cost him his life, too. Peacock was a pretty smart man an' was acquainted with nearly every Kiowa in the tribe, an' it's hard to understand how he could be so foolish as to do the way he did. But Satank an' his band had made him a heap o' trouble durin' this last outbreak, an' now Peacock thought he saw a chance to even up with his old enemy. So, instead of writin' a letter to Sedgwick askin' mild treatment an' makin' excuses for Satank an' his scalpers, he wrote one reading something like this:

MAJOR SEDGWICK,

_Commanding Kiowa Expedition_:

The bearer of this is Satank, the leader of the hostile Kiowas and the instigator of all, and the actual perpetrator of many of the atrocious murders and outrages that have been committed on innocent men, women, and children on the plains during this last outbreak. He is, by long odds, the worst Indian on the plains, and you can't do the country a greater service than to kill him on sight.

(Signed) PEACOCK.

"Here was the unaccountable part of Peacock's folly. He certainly knew that that low-down renegade Englishman that they called 'English Jim' was living among the Kiowas at this time; but Jim was a brute an' appeared to be so ignorant Peacock must have supposed either that the fellow would be unable to read writing or else that Satank would never doubt the genuineness of his recommendation and would, therefore, take no steps to test it. But there's where the trader fooled himself.

"The Kiowas were camped across the Arkansas, a few miles south from the ranch. Charley Rath an' his pardner, George Long, had just begun to build them a ranch-house here at the Bend, close to where we are now camped, an' could see the Kiowas passing back an' forth across the river.

"When Satank received the paper from Peacock he and a few men who was with him went straight back to their camp, give the document to 'English Jim,' an' axed him to read it an' interpret it into Kiowa, which he did.

"As soon as Satank heard the purport of the paper an' understood the trick Peacock was trying to play him, he an' the same gang mounted their horses an' rode right back to Peacock's to settle the account. On reaching the ranch, as an excuse for their sudden return an' to keep Peacock from suspecting what he was up to, Satank an' his men never dismounted, but sat on their horses outside the gate an' called to Peacock in Mexican--the Kiowas an' Comanches can nearly all talk a little Mexican--says he to Peacock, says he, 'Bring your spy-glass out an' look down the road an' see ef this is a lot of soldiers a-coming',--when there was no soldiers in sight nor anything that looked like 'em.

"Never suspecting the trap that Satank had laid for him, Peacock come out with his long telescope an', resting it on the end of a log sticking out at the corner of the house, begun looking through it in the direction Satank pointed.

"While busy trying to focus the glass on a little cloud of dust that Satank kept tryin' to point out to him, the ol' rascal put the muzzle of his rifle to the back of Peacock's head an' put a ball through his brains. While Satank dismounted to scalp Peacock his warriors rushed into the enclosure through the gate that Peacock had left open as he come out, an' it was such a complete surprise to the ranchmen that they were all soon killed 'cept the sick man I spoke of. They found him in bed but never offered to disturb him. I've known of Injuns, several times, a-sparing sick people thataway, but don't know why, unless they have a superstition ag'in harming sick folks.

"When Rath an' Long, down here at the Bend, saw the Kiowas going back across the river, a-drivin' Peacock's herd, they begun to think something was wrong, so they got out their spy-glass, took a close look, an', although the Injuns was two or three miles away, could see that they had a lot of the ponies packed with what seemed to be some of Peacock's goods. This made 'em suspect that the Injuns had captured an' plundered the ranch, ef they hadn't killed Peacock an his men; so they dropped their work, mounted their horses, an' went a-flying up to Peacock's to see what was up, an' found all hands killed 'cept the sick man, an' he told 'em what little he'd seen an' heerd of the fracas, from where he lay in bed, not bein' able to get out, an' how after killing the other men the Injuns had come to the open door of the room where he lay helpless an' fully expecting to be murdered, an' how surprised an' glad he was when they turned away without disturbin' him.

"Peacock had left no heirs on the place, an' there was no one in this part of the country that had any claim on it, so Rath an' Long decided to abandon the ranch they had just begun to build here at the Bend an' move up an' take possession of Peacock's place, jumping the claim, same as Peacock had done after Allison died. An' Rath is holding it yet, but George Long quit the business an' went back to the settlements--got scared out, I guess. Charley Rath--barring the everlasting danger from Injuns--has got a bully good layout in that Walnut Creek ranch, both for trade of the road an' for Injun trade, for there he gits part of the trade of Kiowas, Comanches, Cheyennes, an' 'Rapahoes; but it's more directly in the Kiowa range than the others."

"Well, Tom," I asked as the old man seemed to be at the end of his yarn, "as the Kiowas are now living under a treaty, do you think their friendship is to be depended on?"

"I wouldn't feel a bit uneasy in the neighborhood of ol' To hausen's band, for him an' his followers has kept faith with the whites right along, through all the late troubles. He's one of the few good Injuns. But his band is a small part of the tribe now though he used to be their head chief. Most of the Kiowas follow the lead of Satank now, an' you know Satank hates a white man as the devil hates holy water, an', although he may keep the peace for a while, it ain't to be depended on. I would never feel perfectly safe in the neighborhood of Satank's band. An' then Satanta an' Big Tree run with him, an' they're as bad as Satank."

"What I was thinking of," I added, "is that the winter camp we're intending to establish, north of Fort Larned, will be right in the range of the Kiowas, and if they should happen to find our layout in the course of the winter they might make trouble for us."

"Well, we won't borry any trouble on that score. We knew there was a risk to run afore we undertook the expedition. When a man goes into the country of hostile or doubtful Injuns he takes his risk. But at this time of the year the chances are that we won't see any Injuns, 'cause they generally hole up in as snug shelter as they can find in winter an' don't ramble about much. An' then, ag'in, we'll not be more'n twenty miles from Fort Larned, and they'd hardly dare to disturb us ef they should find our camp."