make known their whereabouts to companions. Could these silent bluffs
of sand but unfold the butchery and unspeakable outrages inflicted on
innocent men, women and children, could the trail through the valley
of the Platte, and even more dangerous trail of the Smoky Hill give up
its secrets, it would reveal a dark page in the history of our
Government, which was directly responsible for a great deal of it;
responsible in so far as sending unscrupulous peace commissioners to
the different agencies to make treaties of peace with tribes of
Indians, and who kept them just long enough to become liberally
supplied with provisions, clothing, guns, ammunition and whiskey, then
ravish and murder in the most diabolical manner pilgrims and
freighters alike. On both trails many a silent monument of stone was
all that remained of their cruel depredations. Such was not the
uncommon work of the fiends, known to readers of fiction as the noble
red men of the plains. More dastardly cowards never existed. Their
struggles against destiny have long since been broken, and the
offspring of those cruel warriors are being educated by a gracious
government.

The monotony of that lonesome and tedious tramp was enlivened only by
fights among the men, and an occasional lay-over for a day to set the
tires of the many wagons, having had no rain to keep them tight
during the entire trip after leaving Atchison, Kansas.

With many encounters and bearing scars received from warring tribes of
Indians, we tramped along in moccasin covered feet, now and again
throwing our long lashed whips with such force as to awaken the
dead-head ox to life and quicker action.

Day after day the same scenery faced us; yet, it was an experience
never to be forgotten. We passed Fort Julesburg and Cottonwood with
the loss of but three men, arriving late at night after a forced drive
at the junction or division of the two trails leading to Denver. The
distance to Denver by the "Cut-off" was seventy-five miles; by the
river route one hundred miles; but as water was to be found only at
long distances on the former, all cattle trains took the river route.

It was early in November, the nights and mornings were cold and
frosty, the air exhilarating. We were up the next morning at the usual
time, and as the sun rose in all its splendor and warmth, one hundred
miles in the far away distance could be seen with the naked eye, the
gigantic range of the Rockies whose lofty snow-ca