PART IV.

THRILLING EXPERIENCES OF PRE-FRONTIER LIFE, INDIAN CUSTOMS AND LEGENDS.

SEC. I. INDIAN PRACTICE.

46. A LITTLE SURPRISE

To a Small Band of Indians, and This Is How It Came About.

            The express rider at Shell Creek was too sick to undertake the ride, and I volunteered to take his place. The ride at that time was from Shell to Butte, there being no station at Egan Canyon at that time. Therefore the one pony had to go about thirty-two miles, fourteen of them being to Egan. I started just at dark and made pretty good time, but being careful to not overdo the pony, but give him frequent breathing spells, at which times I would let him go on the walk, and was doing so when I was about in the middle of Egan Canyon and, just before turning a sharp point ahead of me, I could see the next turn of that, and on the side of the hill towards me the light of a fire was shining. These two turns were about seventy-five or a hundred yards apart, but the curve the creek took between the points made it some further. As it did not run close to the side left quite a large flat, which was smooth and level.

            In going very carefully along and keeping a sharp lookout for a sentinel, I reached the point where I could see the camp. They were on both sides of the road and about in the center of the bend. Well. I had to make up my mind very quickly as to what I should do. Should I turn back and go north to another canyon about six or eight miles, where there might be another party of Indians, if they had planned to catch the express rider? I could not wait long, as their dogs might scent me and give the alarm.

            Well, I soon decided to go straight, so, taking my pistol in my hand, I rode on as close as I dared, then striking in the spurs and giving an awful yell, a few jumps of the pony brought me to about the middle of the camp, when my gun began to

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talk, though pointed up in the air, and my yells accompanied each shot. I got a glimpse of several Indians who were doing their best to make themselves scarce, not knowing but there might be a large party of whites after them.

            When I made the next turn, I was out in the little valley at the head of Egan Canyon and had two trails that I could take to finish. I chose the shortest but the roughest and got home all right. Three days later I came back through the can- yon with a companion. We saw where they had had their camp-fires, and where they had fastened a lariat across the road, but I did not see one that night and don't know how I passed it.

            Later I got it from some friendly Indians that there had been a trap set to catch an express rider for the purpose of seeing what he carried to make him travel so fast. They had placed a party in each of the canyons used, when suspicious of the other. They had planned it pretty good, but it did not work and they never tried it again there, but if I had turned back and tried the other canyon, probably there would have been one " Express" lost.

47. LASSO PRACTICE: WHERE I GOT LEFT.

            It was while I was building the new Butte station that I took a jaunt to the north along the range of mountains, in hopes of locating a log big enough and long enough to make a ridge pole for the rock house. It needed to be thirty feet long. After going ten or twelve miles and not finding one, I was just swinging around to go back on another route when I came to a family camp of Indians. Most of them I knew, and the father was a good friend of mine.

            After joining the circle that was sitting around a small fire, we had our peace smoke and I told them what I was hunting. The old man said he thought I could find what I wanted across the valley east in the next range and pointed out the canyon, where afterwards I found what I wanted. I had been dragging my rawhide lasso. We do this to keep them more pliable. When I was ready to start back, I thought I would coil the rope up and tie it to the saddle in the usual way, but, boy fashion, I must have some fun. So getting on my pony I made a large loop, and before they knew what was coming, I threw it over four or five of them, which caused much laughter. And the old man said, "That would be a good way to catch a Squaw."

            I said, "Yes, I will try it on your girl." So I tried. She was very good at dodging, but at the third throw I caught her tight, which seemed to plague her considerably, for she said I could not catch her again so easily.

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            When about to start home, I swung the rope in the usual way, and looking at the girl, said "Run!" She was off in an instant, but instead of running around the camp she dodged among the trees. After some chasing I was about to throw the loop when she ran around a large tree. My pony being a good lasso animal gave a quick jump aside to head her off and ran under a low limb of a tree which caught under the rim of my saddle, breaking the cinch, and I was on the ground.

            The old man was the first to reach me and, finding that I had not been hurt, said, "Shall we try to catch your horse?" I said there was no use unless they had something that could run faster than he could, but I would give any of them five cups of flour that would carry my saddle to the station and I would walk back. "Alright," said the old man, and, pointing to the saddle, said, "You take it" (to the girl). She got the things together and started off. Going about fifty yards she stopped until I got through talking to the old man and got started, when she turned and went ahead.

            That was as close to her as I could get ; the faster I would go the faster she would. When I reached the station she was standing beside the door, saddle still on her back. I asked her if she was tired and wanted to stay all night. " No, flour. " I said, "Soon dark; aren't you afraid to go now?" "No afraid to go; afraid to stay here." So I gave her the flour and a chunk of cold bread. She asked for a drink of water and after getting it she started down the hill on the run for their camp.

            About a year after, she came to the station with a band of Indians and camped near. She was married. When I went to their camp I saw that she had a fire, by which she and her man sat. I said, "I see that a man did catch you." "Yes, but he did not have a horse and saddle," and seemed to think the joke was on me. I guess it was, but I don't like to own it.

48. EATING ANTS.

            When I lived at Deep Creek I had occasion to send some men and teams south to what we called "Fifteen Mile Canyon" to get some saw logs down to the loading place. They were to stay there till Saturday, then come home with a couple of loads. When they had been gone a couple of days I thought I would go up and see how they were getting along. I got there just before dinner time, while the rest were piling the logs that had been brought out of the canyon.

            There were five or six Squaws sitting around, and when I unsaddled my pony I noticed that there was a great many very large ant-hills all around the place. I had heard that the Indiana often eat them, so I thought I would see for myself.

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            So, pointing to a large hill, I asked one of the Squaws if Indians eat them. She said, "Yes." "Are they good?" "Yes." "Well, I am very hungry. Hurry up and get some and cook them just the same as Indians like them. Hurry up."

            She gave her Papoose to another Squaw and, taking a large flat basket arrangement, pushed the top of the hill to one side and then scooped up about a peck of ants, gravel, dirt and all. Taking it to one side she spread on the ground a piece of flour sack, then taking the pan or basket in her hands, gave it an up and down motion at the side opposite from her. You ought to see those ants roll over the side and fall on the cloth ! But not a bit of gravel or speck of dirt went with them. I have often seen the Squaws cleaning grass seed or wheat the same way, only the wheat or seed was left on the pan, and the chaff and dirt went over the edge.

            After she had gone to the hill two or three times, she had collected about a quart of ants and eggs, and as I acted like I was very hungry, she asked for a kettle to cook them in. I asked the boys for the loan of their wash bucket. She took the bucket and went to the creek, got what water she wanted, piled the ants in and put it on the fire.

            Then she asked me for some salt. I said, "Indians don't use salt." She said, "No, but they like it but don't have it." I gave her a handful of salt, as I did not care how she seasoned the mess. She would put in a little, stir it up well with a stick, then taste, put in a little more, then taste, and so on till she was satisfied that the right amount was used, then she brought the balance of the salt to me. I told her to keep it, pleasing her very much.

            Then she asked me for a little flour. I asked her if Indians used flour when they cooked ants. She smiled and said they would if they had it, but she was cooking for a "Boss White Man" and wanted it to taste good. She got about one- half pint of flour. After that was all stirred in, she asked me for some of that black stuff the white men shake on their food. That was pepper, of course. I gave her a small amount, and when that was added she gave it a final stir, set it off the fire and said, "Now you can eat."

            I got a tin plate and tablespoon and told her to put some on that. She did so. "Now, let me see you eat it," I said. She laughed, so did the rest of them. Just then the cook said dinner. I told the woman that they might eat it all, as my dinner was ready. Well, they soon cleaned up the whole mess, besides some bread and potatoes we had to spare.

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49. INDIAN CRICKET DRIVE.

            I was on a three days' horseback trip in the wilderness, and had for a companion the Indian called "Egan Jack," a trusty, intelligent buck of about thirty years of age. We were on a prospecting or exploring trip to the northwest of Deep Creek, or Ibapah as the Indians called it. At one place, as we came out of a canyon onto the bench land, we saw quite a number of Indians that were quite busy, some digging trenches and some gathering arms full of the tall wheat grass that grew on the flat in the bottom of the canyon. I asked Jack what they were doing. He said, "Catching crickets for bread." "Well, we will go and see how they do it." We went, and saw that they had dug quite a number of trenches about a foot wide and a foot deep and about thirty or forty feet long, and around like a new moon with the horns uphill.

            They had been a number of days at the work, but were now ready for their cricket drive, having five or six of the trenches strung across the bench, the end of each trench joined, or was very close to the end of another. They covered these with a thin layer of stiff wheat grass straw, for what purpose I did not know then, but I thought they were making a mistake, for the crickets could crawl over the ditch on it, but I must wait and see.

            As it was getting the hottest time of the day, and therefore the best time for the drive, they were soon ready, and probably hurried their best to show their visitors how they done it, and at the same time get a little help. Well, there was a few crickets scattered all around, but were more of them above the trenches and near the foothills. But I thought they were going to a great deal of trouble for a few crickets, why not catch them by hand, we will see.

            These trenches ran in a north and south direction, the land sloping to the west. The Indians, men, women and children, divided into two parties, one going to the north end and the other to the south end, all carrying a bunch of grass in each hand. They went single file towards the foothills, and making the distance between the parties wider than the length of the trenches. When they had gone what they thought far enough, as judged by the scarcity of grass left by the black insects, the party closed in and. walking back and forth swinging their grass bunches they gradually worked down toward the trenches.

            We followed them on horseback and I noticed that there were but very few crickets left behind. As they went down,

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the line of crickets grew thicker and thicker till the ground ahead of the drivers was as black as coal with the excited, tumbling mass of crickets.

            A cricket when disturbed can jump about one foot down hill at a jump and but half that distance up hill, but will never jump up hill if it has any show to avoid it. Well, as we neared the trenches I noticed the Indians were going down slower. Jack said this was to give the crickets time to crawl through the grass into the trenches.

            When all had been driven in the Indians set fire to the grass they had in their hands and scattered it along on top of that they had over the trenches, causing a big blaze and smoke, which soon left the crickets powerless to crawl out, if any were left alive when the grass had all burned up, which did not take many minutes. I rode along the line and in some places the trenches were over half full of the dead and legless crickets. I went down below the trenches and I venture to say there were not one out of a thousand crickets that passed those trenches.

            They are a scary and excitable, but a clumsy insect, that hardly ever when excited land on their feet, but roll over, then turn their head down hill and jump again. If not molested they seldom ever jump, but travel by crawling. Now the bucks and children had done their part and were sitting around in groups. The squaws were busy gathering up the game.

            They had large conical shaped baskets; some of them would hold over two bushels. These the women carry on their backs, held in place by a flat band either over their foreheads or about the shoulders. Now here is what I saw a squaw doing that had a small baby strapped to a board or a willow frame, which she carried on her back with a strap over her forehead.

            When at work she would stand or lay the frame and kid where she could see it at any time. She soon had a large basket as full as she could crowd with crickets. Laying it down near the kid, she took a smaller basket and filled it. I should judge she had over four bushels of the catch. But wait, the Indians were leaving for their camp about three or four miles away. This squaw sat down beside the larger basket, put the band over her shoulders, got on her feet with it, then took the strapped kid and placed him on top, face up, picked up the other basket and followed her lord and master, who tramped ahead with nothing to carry except his own lazy carcass. There were bushels of crickets left in the trenches, which I suppose they would gather later in the day.

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            Having- seen enough there we rode on across a narrow valley, and in the foothills came to a large camp of Indians, the chief of whom I was well acquainted with, and we decided to stay all night with them, as we did not know and they could not inform us as to the exact location of the band we wanted to visit. We were also getting hungry. We had no provisions of our own left, except a couple of rabbits I had killed on the way.

            They treated us fine and we had a good time telling arid hearing the news. Jack took one of the rabbits and put it to roast on the fire, the other he gave to the chief. When the rabbit was done to his liking, Jack asked the chief if he had any bread; he nodded and called in a low voice the name of his squaw, who came into the tent at once. When told to bring some bread she went but, but returned immediately -with a cake of black bread about two inches thick and ten inches in diameter, which she handed to me. I thought it looked too black for pine nut bread, for the latter has a yellow cast and this was decidedly black. Holding the bread in one hand and pointing to it with the other. I asked her if there was pine nuts in it. "Yea," she said unconcernedly, "is there crikets in it?" "Yes, yes," smilingly, "sure." Well, I handed the cake to Jack to divide and told the squaw that I would like some pine nuts. She soon brought in some that were all mashed up. These I refused and asked for the "whole" pine nuts. These were soon brought in and I commenced my supper.

            The chief noticed that I was slow at shelling the nuts, so he called a young squaw that came in with a basin of water, setting it down near the door, washed her hands in the basin and brought in a flat stone about one foot in diameter and one-half inch thick and another about eight inches long and a couple of inches in diameter. Seating herself between Jack and me, she proceeded to put the mill in motion. She placed a couple of hands full of nuts on the flat stone arid taking the other in both hands, gave it a rolling motion over the nuts which cracked the shells so they fell off the kernels, which she rolled off on a piece of sack as clean and plump as I could shell them one at a time. She simply shelled them much faster than both of us could eat them. Well, we had a good supper and breakfast, but Jack ate my share of the bread.

            When the crickets are dried the squaws grind them, feathers and all, on the same mil] they grind the pine nuts or grass seed, making a fine flour that will keep a long time, if kept dry. Jack says the crickets make the bread good, the same as sugar

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used by the white woman in her cakes. Well, I am willing to take his word for it, as otherwise I might squirm a little.

50. TRAPPING A COYOTE.

            We were on our way for Carson City with a train of four wagons with three yoke of oxen each and teams of six mules and wagons loaded with produce to sell on the way and bring back a threshing machine and other farm machinery, also dry goods, etc., to supply our little store at Deep Creek. Our first camp was at Antelope Springs, where we arrived just before dark. After watering and taking care of the animals, the next job was to get supper. We had quite a variety of foodstuff along and we soon had the meal ready, consisting of fried bacon, boiled potatoes, pancakes, mollasses, coffee, plenty of sugar, a few pounds of fresh butter, but no milk or cream for the coffee.

            One of the boys said that butter was a good substitute for cream to put in the coffee, and proceeded to stir some in his cup of coffee. One of the other boys cut a good size lump and stirred it in the large coffee pot, so we all had to take our coffee that way or go without it. Well, no one went without his coffee, but after that, when the butter was all gone we missed it much. Well, after supper was over the plates, cups, knives and forks and spoons were all pushed back of each boy, thus making a circle around the fire, as we had sat that way to eat our supper. The frying pans, coffee pots and skillets were left close to the fire, where they had been used. Not a thing was washed or taken care of and you can safely bet that every single piece of the cooking and eating utensils were as greasy as grease could make them.

            After supper we sat around the fire talking chaff till late, and as each became sleepy went to bed; but first, during the evening, we appointed one of the boys to tend to the cooking for one week. This one was the first to crawl out and very soon found out that the whole lot of cooking and eating utensils had taken wings or had been stolen by the Indians. He called the boys and at the same time was looking for tracks of the thief. He soon found a tin plate, then a spoon, or cup, then we were all on the hunt in a circle from the fire, when one of the boys that had gone about one hundred yards from camp yelled out that he had found one of the thieves. We all ran to where he was and this is what we saw: A coyote with his head in our largest coffee pot and the bail over his head back of his ears, fast enough, but still trying to get away. He

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was bumping against the brush at every step. He could make no progress.

            Well, to make a long story short, as they say, we had lots of fun with that coyote and the next day his hide was tacked on one of the wagon beds. When we had finished our search, back from the fire about one hundred and fifty yards, we took count of the recovered articles and found that we were out a couple of forks and a spoon. That was a cheap tariff for leaving dirty dishes where the coyotes could get to them and a lesson I venture none of us will ever forget.

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SEC. II. HUNTING AND HARVESTING.

51. A RABBIT DRIVE.

            One afternoon, while visiting the Indians, I heard them talking of rabbits and, asking them what it was all about, the chief said a rabbit hunt. I said I would like to go along to see how they done it. He seemed pleased at me taking so much interest and said, "Good! Come tomorrow before noon, as we want to start the drive about noon and it is quite a distance to the place. You had better come on horseback."

            About the middle of the forenoon next day I was at their camp. Most of the hunters had already started. Going about three or four miles, we came to the place selected for the drive a piece of sage and rabbit brush laud about a mile in diameter. The party I was with stopped, when we saw a fire about a half mile to our right and soon another about the same distance to the left, and then we could see the smoke rising a mile ahead of us. My party soon had their torches at work and the drive was on.

            Working all around the circle and towards the center was a continuous ring of fire and smoke, which was gradually closing in arid the rabbits were being crowded together thicker and thicker. Each Indian, squaw and pappose had a stick about four feet long, the only weapon they carried. A small boy or gill was just as good as a man, arid oh, the fun of it all laughing and holler-ins: and making as much noise as possible. The rabbits got so dazed by the fire, smoke and tumult that they simply could not run. They would jump a row jumps: and sit up trying to see a way out. I saw dozens of them stop within reach of the sticks and many of them were picked up that had not been hit. When a rabbit was seen to pass out of the human ring, someone would follow him in the smoke and put his body in one of the piles of rabbits they had made as they proceeded towards the center, for they could not carry much of the game and do their work at the same time.

            When the drive was over the field was a black, fire-swept, but still smoking patch of ground. Talk about rabbits, I am sure there were more caught on that drive than could be packed in a large wagon bed. It seems that the black-tailed rabbits gather in herds or colonies and these places are noted by the Indians. I learned afterwards that they had intended

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to attack a smaller colony, but the chief wanted his white friends to see a good, big drive, and he did, and I was well pleaded to be present, but thought it too much the advantage of poor Mr. Rabbit, who had no chance to save his life.

            The Indians do not like to use fire for a drive, as it takes years for the brush to grow up again. I have seen a drive where no fire was used, but grass nets about two and one-half feet high and two inches or even smaller mesh. A sharp pointed stick a few inches longer than the width of the net was fastened across six or eight feet apart, to act as fence posts, when the sharp end was pressed into the earth. One buck could easily carry a role of one hundred fifty to two hundred yards of the small twisted grass twine note. Each large family usually have such a role and at times, when living apart from other families, can use them either as traps or to drive; but then, these are only small catches.

            The drive I witnessed was when there was six or eight of these nets together. When they had decided just where to run the nets, two of the Indians put the end sticks of their nets together and commenced to unroll their nets, going in opposite directions, sticking each cross stick firmly in the ground as they unrolled, making a rabbit-proof fence. When the first two had placed their nets, two more Indians commenced where they ended and continued the line in the desired direction.

            I noticed that when they were through stringing their nets in a kind of semicircle form, there was part of a roll of nets not unrolled at each end. These ends, when they were ready to drive, were strung out, but not in a circle, but flaring straight out from the opening, making a long V-shaped mouth to the field. When the Indians swung across this mouth they began coming in slowly. But every rabbit that was started went into the pen and kept running back and forth to find a place to get- through. Vain search, for they were trapped. When the men had reached the opening of the circle the two ends of the net was brought in and strung across the opening, this making a complete enclosure. Then the fun began. All the Indians were inside with sticks, or bows and arrows, picking up the game. Sometimes I could see at one glance five or six rabbits that were entangled in the netting. If the Indians were engaged at one place getting the ones caught, the others were getting into trouble at another place.

            It seemed a little strange to me that when- a rabbit running along the fence would see a man ahead of him he would

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turn and run across the circle till he came to the fence, then run along it till he saw someone ahead, then either make a dive at the fence and get tangled, or take another run across lots, but never stopping or trying to hide in the brush in the center, but seemed to know they were trapped.

            It took the Indians over a half day to get as many as they wanted. There were many left when they took up the nets and were none the worse off by their little scare.

            I have seen the black-tailed rabbits in bands so thick they could not all set in the shade of the sagebrush and I have seen coyotes where there seemed to be dozens and dozens of them in the middle of the day, standing and sitting or laying down, and when approached too close, moving off just fast enough to keep at a safe distance, all of them with full bellies and acted very sleepy. I asked Jack what they were about, he said. "Those coyotes had a rabbit drive last night and now they are resting up and sleeping." I said, '"'Jack, do you want to see them run?'' (Taking my pistol.) "They won't run far,'* said he. At the crack of the gun one tumbled down, the others that were near jumped to their feet, some trotted off a little distance, others merely glanced around and walked off a little way and squat down again.

52. MOUNTAIN RAT, FOOD FOB INDIANS.

            On one of my days out I came across an old Indian going home with his day's catch of rats. He had a large sheet iron camp kettle nearly filled with them. They had all been caught the night before by dead falls, as we call them, which consists of two sticks about three and a half or four inches long fastener] together at their centers by a string that will allow them to spread apart about four or five inches in the shape of the letter "H." One of these, with any convenient flat rock heavy enough to smash and kill a rat, is one dead fall. This Indian had over a hundred of the triggers that he hadn't used. but said he had set the most of them.

            His plan was to go up one side of the canyon, setting the traps wherever he saw the sign of rats, and the same down the other side. The next day, taking the same route, gathering the catch and resetting the traps. The rats the Indian had were six to eight inches long, two and a half inches wide and half an inch thick. They were packed as close as he could pack them in the kettle and wore quite heavy for the old man to pack to camp, so I carried them for him. At his camp was where I first saw the squaws making rabbit skin robes. This is how it was done:

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            They had a lot of twine, that had been made of some fiberous bark or grass, and a pile of rabbit skins that had been dried and then rubbed pliable. But it must have been done with care, for a rabbit skin is very tender. These squaws were not making a new robe, but patching up and making an old one larger. The robes are of length to reach from the neck to about the middle of the thighs, say about three or four feet long, and wide enough to reach around the body at the shoulders.

            One of the squaws was twisting the strips of skin around a twine that was stretched to two stakes, placed a little past the length of the robe, and as she proceeded the other was following her up and tying that fir rope thus made and laid alongside the previous one close together at about every four inches. They worked back and forth in this fashion till the skins were all used up. There was a strip about two feet wide of new robe attached to the old one. I examined it and found that the tie strings were placed in a straight line across the robe, with the ends of the ties left to attach more robe or to be used to tie the robe together as wanted.

            When hung around the neck the person so clothed can stand in a hard rain or snow storm and not one drop of wet will pass through the robe. They are wind and rain proof and almost cold proof. There is no right or wrong side, as both sides are just the same one solid piece of fir that will stand the wear of years, used as a mattress or bed covering or wind brake. In fact, they never completely wear out.

            When the fur at any place gets worn off it is replaced with a few strands of new. This makes an old robe look striped and of different colors. The squaws while at work seemed as happy as a party of white women at a quilting and were talking and laughing just as fast. After spending some time chatting and smoking with the old man, he gave me the location of another family. I gave him a little tobacco and left them much pleased with my visit.

53. THE ANTELOPE HUNT OR DRIVE.

            I had sent word to the old chief (White Horse) that I would make him a visit in a few days, and to make it interesting to me he planned an antelope catch. For a few days before I came the squaws and bucks were busy repairing and ex- tending the flanking arms of the old corral, or trap pen, which was located near the north end of antelope valley and about twenty miles northwest of Deep Creek. It was pretty cold

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weather, but no snow on the ground. The Indians thought it a good time and expected a good catch.

            After they had all come in from their work a great deal of talking and planning was on and each knew just what part and place he or she was to take. By daylight all were ready for the start and. in fact, a number of the young men had left early in the evening before to go to the extreme south end of the ground to be covered and about twenty miles from the pen. They were to spread apart across the valley, travel in open order back to the north, being careful that not one of the antelope jumped would run, except in a northerly direction.

            This valley has a good many hills or knolls along the base of the mountains and a few of them scattered more to the center of the level ground in the middle of the valley. An antelope, when started up, will always run directly for one of these, that lay opposite from where he gets his scare from, and they run from hill to hill. They see no one ahead of them but the party behind being constantly increased, and if they undertake to pass around the drivers a buck or squaw is sure to raise to his feet, and that sends them off to the center again.

            Thus it goes till they come to the line between the outer ends of the arms, which, there, are about four miles apart, but gradually closing in as they get nearer the pen. The arms or leads are started at the extreme ends by simply prying or pulling up a large sagebrush and standing it roots up on the top of another brush, thus making a tall, black object visible for miles. The standing of these brush were at first some ten to twenty feet apart, but were placed more and more near together the nearer towards the pen, and when the two lines came to about one hundred yard? apart they were built so the buts of the brush were as close as the tops would allow them to be joined and by this time both wings had swung to the east side of the valley, where there were many ravines to cross and plenty of cedar and pine to use for fencing.

            There were many turns to the lane thus formed, but was getting narrower and stronger till finally, around a sharp turn through a large, thick bunch of cedars, the game were in the corral, which was about two hundred feet in diameter and built strong and high enough to withstand the charges of a herd of buffalo. The pine and cedar trees had not been removed from the inside of the pen, and not many from the runway, for a mile back.

            Well, White Horse and myself rode the only two horses in the drive and we went to about half the distance to the ends

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of the arms and wore soon back as fast as possible on the outside to take advantage of the bends and turns and to try and keep abreast of the drivers, who were all on a fast run, yelling like a pack of coyotes. The drive came to an end with a rush and everyone working desperately closing up the entrance, a few small children appearing on the wall at different point around the pen. By the time we had tied our horses and climbed to the top of the wall the entrance had been closed. Then began the killing of as many as were wanted that day, the killing was done with arrow and seldom missed piercing the heart. The catch was about twenty-five, mostly all bucks or does, there being only five or six yearlings in the bunch. There were five or six bucks killed that day and one of which had tried to jump the fence, but got entangled in the fence and was killed by having his throat cut with a knife. The reason they were not all killed in one day was to give the squaws time to cut up in thin strips the flesh and dry it on a rack built over a small fire, thus curing it so it would keep for a long time if kept dry.

            The next morning I went to the pen with some of the Indians and found that there had been left three or four young men to guard the place and see that none of the animals broke through. The antelope had run themselves down and were huddled in the center of the enclosure, most all laying down. The Indians soon picked out five or six of the largest, which were killed and soon on the way to camp to be made into jerked meat, as it was called. The brains are seldom eaten, but carefully preserved to tan the hide with, by spreading them all over the flesh side of the skin, after the hair has been removed, rolling them up and leaving them this way for a few days, when the skins may be washed clean and rung as dry as possible, then stretched and pulled and rubbed till dry, when they are soft, white and pliable. Then they are ready for trade or use.

            The Indians told me that the last drive, before this one at this place, was nearly twelve years ago and the old men never expected to see another at this place, for it would take many years for the animals to increase in sufficient numbers to make it pay to drive. These drives are mostly in the desert valleys, where the poor horseless natives live.

            I have been with a number of hunting parties where most of the hunters had horses. The last one was a few miles south of where the drive I have just told about. There were men on horses and five or six foot men. When they arrived at the edge of the hunting ground they divided into parties, one

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going to the right and the other to the left and occasionally leaving a man, and so spacing them apart that when the two ends of the line -swung around they formed a very large circle.

            We could see where the antelope were running and the plan was to keep them in the circle and on the run all the time and not allow them to rest. When any of them attempted to pass out they were headed off and turned back or around the circle. We could not see an antelope halfway across the circle, but could see the dust they raised and the direction they were traveling.

            When, after they had been kept running back and forth till they were very tired, a man would chase one on a fast run and as he neared another man would stop to rest his horse and watch for another run. The second man could run his horse alongside the antelope easily, which I did, and wished I had brought my lariat, as I could have caught him easily, but I shot him when at a distance of about eight or ten feet. There were only three killed and Jack was in high glee, for he said to the other Indians. ''You see, it takes a chief to get the antelope." One was killed by him, one by "Antelope Jake," as he was called, a young chief, and one by myself.

54. PINE-NUT HARVEST.

            Jack and I were taking a scouting trip high up in the Shell Creek range of mountains, when we came across an Indian who, with his squaw and children, were busily engaged gathering pine-nuts. The man had a long pole with a strong hook fastened to one end. He would reach up in the tree to the pine cones, hook the crook around the branch on which they hung and pull branch and all down, the squaw and children carrying them to a place and piling them up in a heap. When they had collected as many as they wanted that day, the buck had finished his part of the work and could pass the rest of the time sleeping or hunting squirrels just as he pleased.

            The squaws and children gathered a little dry brush, which was thrown loosely over the pile of cones and set fire to. The cones are thickly covered all over with pitch, for this reason they make a hot fire, the squaw watching and stirring it up as needed to keep the nuts from burning, as all she wants is to burn the pitch off. When this is done she rakes them back from the fire as a man would do when drawing charcoal.

            When the pitch was all burned off the burs, or cones, the squaw spreads a blanket down close to the pile, then taking up one cone at a time, would press them end ways between

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her hands, which opens the leaves, under which there were two nuts to every leaf. Then shaking the cone over the blanket the nuts would all fall out as clean as you please.

            We stayed with them to see the finish, which was not so very long.  When the nuts had all been cleaned from the cones they were put in a large basket that would hold over two bushels and was nearly full, the squaw carrying that on her back to a place where they were to be cached and left till wanted. These caches were placed all through the pine-nut grove to save carrying them too far and save time, for the harvest does- not last long, for a heavy frost will cause the cones to open and the nuts drop to the ground, where the squirrels and coyotes feast on them.

            A pine-nut cone looks like a green pineapple, but some smaller and covered with pitch, that protects them from insects and squirrels. The Indians put them in caches holding about ten bushels or less.  

            Once on a time when Jack and I were passing along a range where there were a good many pine-nut trees, and as we were getting hungry I asked him if he thought there was any nuts cached there. He said he didn't think they were all cleaned out and would look around. He was not long in locating one, and pushing the large stick of wood aside that was placed on top of the small raise in which the nuts were to be found, he moved off about six inches of dirt and found a tight layer of cedar bark about two inches thick. He dug a hole through this big enough to pass his arm through, which he did, and pulled out a handful of very fine nuts, as fresh as when first put in.

            Well, we took about two gallons, covered and left the cache as we found it, minus the few nuts taken.

55. HUNTING FOR WATER.

            In traveling through Go-Shute Valley (later called Flower Lake Valley), we were getting very thirsty, having been traveling five or six hours from the last water hole and it being a dry hot and sultry day I and the horses needed water. The nearest I knew of was about twelve miles distance and that not in the direction of our travel, and our one canteen being empty, I thought we would have to change our course to get water. I asked Jack, "How far to water this way." pointing the way I wanted to go. He said, "I do not know, maybe no water. Well, are you thirsty?" "Yes.-' "Well then, think fast and locate water or Indian no better than White man."

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            We were about the middle of the valley, facing southeasterly, and were among the sand-dunes, which spread a few miles in width and many miles in length through the valley. We had not gone far after this talk when Jack said, "Wait," and pointing to some rat or gopher holes in the side of the sand-dunes, said, ''They must have water, I see." Dismounting, he picked a place between the dunes and with his hands scraped off the loose sand to a depth of about six or eight inches to water. He then made the hole nearly a foot deeper and a foot wide, which quickly filled to the water level. Waiting for it to settle, we then tasted it and found it to be a little brackish, but still nice and cool and quite drinkable. Having drank what we wanted, filling the canteen, we let the horses have their turn. They got some, but soon caved the sand in and made the water so riley they would drink no more.

            Jack filled the hole up and leveled the sand over it as it was before and said if he did not do it there could not be any more water ever found anywhere near there (Superstition,), and I think he actually believed what he said.  

            Towards evening we were traveling along the foothills, going in the direction of where we knew there was a water hole five or six miles distance. Where we were the limestone formation lay very flat and in some places was washed clean of ail soil for large areas and but few cracks or breaks all along the lower edge of these limestone beds.

            I noticed that the grass and brush was thicker and stronger than farther down. I asked Jack if he thought we could get water near the edge by digging. "No," he said, "too deep; but wait, see the coyote tracks. They get water somewhere close to here." So hunting around a while I got off my horse and sat on a little raise watching Jack. He zig-zagged around till he had worked off about one hundred yards from me. I went to where he was standing and said, "Did you find water?" he said, smiling; "Come and see," leading the way to the bottom of a large saucer shaped swag, and what I saw was an oblong hole about four feet across the narrowest way and about twelve feet deep. There was eight or nine feet of water in it and so clear that we could see the bottom and sides very plainly and all the walls were solid limestone.

            The water was cold and not a bit brackish, so I proposed to camp there that night. Jack said. "Yes," for he was very tired: but said. "We must go a little wav off so the wild animals can come and drink." How were we to water the horses here? They could not reach it and if one fell in, it would be good-by. as we could never get him out, except in pieces. Well,

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we watered the horses and gave them all they wanted by using my hat for a bucket.

            I noticed that all around the hole the surface was slanting towards it, except at one point where, when the hole was full and more rain or snow water came to it, it could flow on down to the sand valley below.

            The next day we, having crossed the summit of the desert range of mountains, about noon, as we were riding along the base of the mountain or about half a mile above the white alkali desert (the most desolate and dreary country I ever saw) seeing a poor, pretty near hairless coyote. I asked Jack what he was doing so far from water. "Maybe not far," he said. "We will try and find his drinking hole." So in riding along he pointed up the mountain a little way and farther along our way to where the limestone ledges dipped at a very steep angle into the mountains, he said, "We will go along that way."

            We came to a place where a thick ledge about thirty feet high hung over a thinner one that was about eight or ten feet high and from two to six feet from the higher one, that hung completely over it. Jack went to one end of the ledge, or to where he could get on top of the smaller ledge, gave a whoop and said, "Plenty of water." I was soon at his side and saw a pool of clear water (no scum or dirt) that extended from ledge to ledge and some thirty feet long. At the ends the bottom sloped toward the center, at which place there was no way to judge the depth, as the bottom could be seen only a few feet from the ends, but there was thousands of gallons of water held there, as good, too, as any you ever tasted. But let me tell you, a person might ride or walk within six feet of it and still think it was miles, and hot ones, to the nearest water. A tenderfoot would die of thirst leaning his back against the four-foot wall that separated him from enough water to supply an army. One could not see the least sign of water, every spot all around being sunburned and browned.

            We, of course, camped a little way beyond after watering the horses the same as before (in my hat). I would depend on finding water at this place any time of the year, as there was now plenty, and it was in the fall that we were there and there could not be much lost by evaporation, and it was replenished by every rainstorm, the water draining in at the ends. The hole or crevasse would contain a good many thousands of gallons more before running over, so I think it safe to say that there was always plenty of water there.

            When we were traveling in the direction of the sink of Deep Creek that was about fifteen miles away I knew of no

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water nearer in that direction, but knew of a small spring off to the right some five or six miles out of our way. Jack asked me for a drink out of the canteen. "There is only about half a pint in it," I said, shaking it. "we had better wait as long as we can before drinking it all." He said he had waited a long time and thought the water was better now than it would be when it got warmer, so it soon vanished.

            After going a few miles farther and still thirsty I asked Jack if he was afoot and very thirsty which way he would go for water, trying to have him judge which way lay the closest. He stopped, and looking around, said his mother, when he was a little boy, had camped somewhere near where we were and when she went for water it was to one of the mounds that we could see scattered in the edge of the desert. So selecting a rather large one, about half a mile to one side, we rode to it. Jack got off his horse and made a complete circuit of it and said, "No water, but plenty coyote signs." I said, "You did not go over the top of the hill?" "No," he said, "wait, I go." He had not reached the top when he gave a yell and I knew he had found a water hole.

            On going up I found it to be about two by six and about eight or nine feet deep, with about three feet of clear water in it, but hard to get at without a rope and bucket, but we managed to sink the canteen in it by tying a small stone to one side. We had a good drink and with a refilled canteen went on our journey.

56. "SQUAWS CATCHING GROUND MOLES."

            The ground squirrel, or large white bellied mole or gopher, are very numerous in some places on the bench lands along the mountains. One day, while taking a little exercise with Mr. Muncey, the telegraph operator, we rode along the foothills. When we came to the edge of fifteen-mile Creek Hollow and were going down to the creek we came to a ditch about eighteen inches wide and six or seven inches of water running, with a good ripple, to our right, the mountains being to the left. Muncey said. "Who in h--l done this. This water is running up hill." And so it appeared to be. "Well, let us follow it and see where it goes to."

            We followed .along the ditch until it came out onto the flat, where there was a division, making two streams. A little lower they were again divided. Then we could see about eight or ten squaws very busy, each with a stout stick, digging a trench and leading the water to a gopher hole. The gopher

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would soon make his appearance in a half-drowned state, get a rap on the head, then put in the sack at the back of the squaw, who would then turn the water into the next nearest hole, with the same result.

            All of the squaws were hard at work the same way, making a very clean job of it, and very few would be left for a future drowning out. Muncey said he was going to time that young squaw. We saw her divide her part of the water in two streams, thus running it in two holes at the same time. Sometimes she would have three or four streams and then again but one, and according to Muncey 's time she had caught between twenty-five and thirty in the half hour.

            When we left them some of the squaws had over a half bushel in their sacks and quite a large field to go over yet. It would take a number of days to finish the job.

            These rodents are skinned, gutted, then dried the same as beef, only they are dried whole, no bones being removed. Of course, they are also eaten fresh and stewed with Indian potatos and segos. I most fancy I could stomach to eat one. It's all in the way we were brought up. But I don't think I would starve to death if I could find a place where there was water and plenty of gophers, or any other animal I could drowned out, even a pole cat would save a man's life for a week or more. But I don't want to be caught wanting to try either.

            Making Fire With a Stick. On one of my trips with a comrade we camped for the night just before sundown and soon found out that we had no matches that were dry enough to light a fire with. That did not put us out much and we did not worry a bit, for we could soon make fire with our pistols, but just before we were ready to do it an Indian came up and squat down close to the little pile of wood we had collected.

            Then the thought struck me that I would see if an Indian was always prepared to make a fire, so I said to him, "Make a good fire and I will give you something to eat." He jumped up and said, "Give me white fire stick." (Matches.) I told him, "No, they are all wet and no account, and Indian no good either if he could not make fire." He gave a grunt and proceeded to get busy.

            He took a stick about eighteen inches long and the thickness of an arrow out of the quiver he carried his arrows in and another flat stick about six inches long, one-half inch thick and three-quarters to one inch wide, there being four or five counter-sunk holes in the flat piece about one-fourth inch deep. After rubbing some dry cedar bark with his hands till

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it was very fine, he placed the flat stick on the ground and one end of the long- stick, which was at one end a little smaller, and putting- the largest end in one of the counter-sunk holes, placed his hands together around the top of the stick, which he made to turn around back and forth very fast. As he worked his hands this way, at the same time pressing down all he could, it caused his hands to work down on the stick and he had to place them at the top very often. In about twelve or fifteen minutes he had a few tiny sparks of fire he had made with the sticks, burning the fine ground bark.

            After that it was easy, but when the fire was lighted Mr. Indian was in a very sweaty condition. We did not begrudge him his supper, as we thought he had earned it and he seemed pleased to get it that way. I have seen an Indian make fire by simply rubbing two sticks together. This plan takes longer and harder work.

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SEC. Ill HARD EXPERIENCES.

57. SAVED BY A RABBIT.

            This was told me by one of the Pony Express riders whose ride was from Salt Lake City to Rush Valley. He passed the point of the mountain eighteen or twenty miles south of Salt Lake City, but as there was a heavy snowstorm raging he could not tell which way he was traveling. He knew that he had gone far enough to bring him to the river, if he had kept the right road. He went on till himself and pony were both about give out, then seeing no signs of a break in the storm, got off the pony to give both of them a little rest. The snow was quite deep and drifting.

            Curling up beside a sagebrush he soon was sound asleep. He did not know just how long he had slept, but he did know that some animal had jumped across his face, that instantly brought him to his senses, and scrambling to his feet saw the rabbit that had awakened him.

            He found that he was very numb and cold and had a time in getting blood circulation through arms and legs. His pony was standing with his head down and back to the storm, shivering like a man with the ague. He finally started again and after some time found a light. Going up to it he found that it shown out of the window of a farmhouse, the owner of which had just got up and started the morning fire.

            Calling the man to the door, he inquired the way he should go to get on the right trail again. The man said, "Straight ahead." "Well, if I should go straight ahead I would ride through your door and as I have been riding all night I am very cold and would like to get warm by your fire and have a cup of coffee."

            Well, after getting both and feed for the pony he went on and got through all right. The place where he found himself to be was close in the northeast corner of Utah Valley and if it had not been for the rabbit he was satisfied he would have gone to his last sleep.

58. LOST AND FOUND, OR RIDING IN A CIRCLE.

            Another pony express rider on the Salt Lake ride to Rush Valley made Cedar Fort (Fort Crittenden), in Cedar Valley.

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It was snowing to beat the band. He got his next pony and started up the long slope toward Rush Valley, his home station. It was still snowing and blowing and it was impossible to see the road or any object to get his location, but finally it seemed that he was going down hill. He thought he had passed the summit and was now in Rush Valley, so hurried up the pony a little faster, but after a couple of hours of this he could not discover any familiar ground, so then he came to the conclusion that he was lost, not even knowing in which valley he was.

            It was too cold to stop; he must keep moving. Which way?  Why go straight ahead for sure? It would take him somewhere, so he kept going supposedly in a straight line. Just about daylight he discovered a light. Going towards it he soon saw plenty of lights and then some buildings that he recognized as belonging to Cedar Fort, the place he had left the evening before. He had made a complete circle around the valley. After eating a lunch and taking a fresh pony he made it through all right, for the storm had passed.

59. AROUND A BUSH ALL NIGHT.

            I left Ruby Valley station after breakfast. I was traveling west and with no companion except my pony. All went well and I arrived at Diamond Springs about 4 p. m., where I rested. Just after sundown I thought I would go to the next station, about twenty-five miles distance, from which I could next day finish my west trip and get back to Diamond Springs.

            I had not traveled more than a couple of miles before it began to snow, and so fast that I could not see twenty-five yards in any direction, and soon the snow was so deep and it was so dark that every direction from where I was seemed to be up hill. After going far enough to take me across the valley I came to the conclusion that I was off the right trail and no need to go further till I could see some landmark to go by.

            It had turned very cold and I was quite wet, there was nothing to make a fire of. I was somewhere in Moon Shine Valley, as it is called, on account of its white soil and very short shad-scale greece wood brush, which makes it appear as if the moon or sun was shining upon it when there is no moon or sun visible.

            I needed rest, so did the pony, but how could I get rest and not freeze. I got off the pony, made a loop in the end of my riding rope, put this around the stoutest bush I could find, took hold of the pony's tail, driving him round and round.

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            When I would get a little warmer by this exercise I would squat down a few minutes, but the cold would soon set the pony to shivering (me, too), and then round and round again. Oh! What a night and would it ever end? I had hard work to keep from laying down and going to sleep. Well, if I had but I didn't.

            Just about daylight I saw a little blue sky right up in the center of my circle and after a little while a number of clear places. I was now on the pony riding around the bush, but watching at all points for a view of the mountains. Finally, just before sunrise I located east by the light and of course I then knew which way to look for the mountains.

            Very soon after this the clouds broke away and I had a full view of the range on the west side and found that I was some five miles to the south of the trail and two or three from the west side of the valley. The first thing to do was to get to the trail, which I did by a straight line to the foot of the mountains. I could not see the road here, but that did not worry me, I knew the mountains.

            A few years after that I was crossing this same valley with a few others, when one of them said, "See that lone young mountain way out there in the middle of the valley, I would like to go on top of it to see what it is made of." And he said, "Did you ever visit it?" I said, "I may have rode around it, but I certainly did not go to the top." ''Well, if you rode around it you certainly know if it is a limestone or granite knob." "No." I told him of my night around a bush. That explained why I did not know.