The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1883-06-16
Il PHANTOM CARAVANS.
What Traveller fion silver Reef
Utah, behstti lat Mountain
.bisie sioyFs. n

relate may seem strange to the credulou
reader and 1 may be classed as an un
mitigated liar, but care more for m,
peace Of mind than do for that largt
class of skeptical readers who are eve
ready to throw mud on what is beyont
their comprehension. On the morning
of the 2lst OF May / left Silver Reef
Utah, on horseback, and proceeded tt
St. George, where / transacted some
business, after which / repaired to the
little village Of Cunlock, arriving there
about o'clock in the afternoon. Being
tired, and somewhat hungry, | rested for
a couple Of hours, during which fed my
horse, and had supper myself, washed
down with some very fair Dixie wine.
Feeling refreshed, and the evening being
beautiful one, took my departure
about six in the evening for the town Of
Mountain Meadows, distant some thirty.
five miles. Being well mounted, | trav-
eled along at pretty brisk gait, nothing
transporting to break the monotony of the
journey -unless it was the wretched road
over which was taryeling-until came
to an open fat, thickly covered with
sagebrush, which ! afterwards learned
was the scene Of the Mountain Meadow
Massacre, and distant some FIVE miles
from the town Of Mountain Meadows.
Before reaching the flat passed camp
of freighters, the four wagons being
plainly visible in the moonlight, so that
after proceeding mile or SO | was not
much surprised on seeing large train
of wagons. What surprised me most
on beholdiug them was the direction
in which they were travelling, for being
slightly acquainted with the topography
of the country, although not with the
exact locality where the emigrants were
butchered, ! was pretty certain that the
teams were not on the road. While
meditating on this and the strangeness OF
large train travelling at such an unusual
hour, | reached little knoll on the road,
which brought me to within one hundred
yards of the caravan. Directly on as
cending the knoll, the first intimation !
had OF anything wrong was the actions OF
my horse. who stopped suddenly and be-
gan to trelnble as if he were going to
pieces. Although | had on former occa-
sions passed through many a critical sit
uatlon, where death stared me in the face,
while carrying the u. S. mail through
the lonely mountains and isolated can
yons Of Arizona IN the early days of that
blood stained land, ] never experienced
the fear that felt on reaching the top Of
the knoll: and | verify believe my hair
stood on end, as the -perspiration poured
from my every pore, like water from a
garden sprinkler Even if i had the
nerve--which did MOTTO proceed to a
closer inspection Of the ghostly throng, |
could not induce my horse to move a step,
the poor animal being almost scared TO
death. As it was, we remained like q
bronze statue, while the caravan moved
slowly along, unmindful of our pre- ,ence,
the large blooded stock showing to per-
lection in the mellow moonlight OF the
beautiful night. Fascinated, gazed
after the retreating train, until saw it
form a corral in tie center of the valley,
after which it was quickly surrounded BY
yelling Indians. who made charge after
charge, only to be Iepulsed by the brave
wagoners. After the last charge the
Indians retreated out OF sight, when a
party Of white men, bearing a white flag,
made their appearance from little grove
of chapparal on the eastern side of the
train, approaching to within about one
hundred yards of the wagons, when they
halted, one of the number going forward
until he met one of the train party, when
a consultation of some minutes seemed to
take place between them, after which all
OF the male emigrants left the train, es-
corted by the mounted strangers, in the
direction Of the chapparal grove. What
afterward took place cannot tell, ex-
cept | imagined | heared the mournful
cries OF the women and children, and the
inlurIated yells Of their red and white
butchers, for my horse, recovering his
equauimity, sprang forward, which came
very near throwing me from the saddle,
and never let up running until within
the friendly shelter OF the town corral,
when be stopped completely exhausted.
RovDR.
.