Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-12-19
IN THE DEVILS KITCHEN.
Thrilling Christmas Eve Experispcs Re-
lated by an Old Scout

iateu Dy an Via scout
GIT HAPPENED IN THE 60s-THIs
Il Christmas experience am going to tell
you" said an ex-government scout to STAB
reporter several days ago. ITO begin with I
left Washington in 1867 with Gen. Theodore
Barrett's party for the purpose Of making
survey Of Indian territory. To bring You up
to the real story / need only say that every
thing progressed finely until the winter of SO.
That was a ripsnorter and remember every
day of it. When the 22d Of December came
around the snow was q couple Of feet deep on
the pralries and the small thermometer we had
went 30 low it never stirred again. My old
partner Jack and High Eagle, Cheyenne
brave, and I fixed it up among ourselves to
have grand hunt unbeknown to the rest of
our party. 1t was our intention to take
an early start on the 23d and get back
in time for Christmas dinner. So the next
morning long before any one stirred we were
all ready with a two days supply of grub and
bottle OF tonsil varnish apiece to keep the cold
out. The Indian led the way, and carried us due
north along an old buffalo path. have often
wondered how he knew the road with two feet
of snow on top Of 1t. yet he did, and when we
struck the big woods and looked back there
was our camp almost on q direct line. The
snow in the woods was not deep as on the
prairie. and as we were after big game we decided
to separate and meet at Crooked run. The In
dian took the left, JACK struck out in the
middle and l sauntered off to the right. Now
Crooked run was about fifteen miles away
from our camp, and our idea was to meet there
and camp over night in the Devils
kitchen and start for home on the 2ith.
About half an hour after broke away came
across flock OF wild turkeys and knocked over
a big gobler. strapped him on my back and
struck out afresh. Well, to make long story
short. when l arrived at Crooked run Jack and
the Indian were waiting for me. We cooked
the turkey had shot and skinned the coyote
that the Indian had killed and entered the
Devils kitchen. This Devils kitchen, as it was
called. was at one time bear den, and friend
OF mine lost his life there in fight with griz-
ely. After that it called DEVILS kitchen.
1t was comfortable cave-large and roomy and
above all warm. Not warm enough, however,
to do away with fire. SO We kept big fire going
all night. The next morning we took hunt
together and left for home about 10 o'clock,
separating as we did on the start. About half
an hour after the start big storm came up.
The snow was binding and the wind cutting.
thought over the whole matter and concluded
that the best thing for we to do was to retreat
to the Devil skitchen, for had about lost my way
1t did not take long to make up my mind. for
the snow wac fast covering up my tracks. l
set out at lively pace and reached the cave
about noon. My body was chilled throughout
and thought of making a fire. The old fire
was out and l commenced to search for my
matches hunted through every pocket, but
no matches could be found Here was a pre-
dicament. Fifteen miles from camp with no
matches, and the chances decidedly in favor of
remaining there all day and maybe all night.
What was to do. little curl of smoke came
from the dying embers which thought were
long since dead. 1t was the straw that dying
man grasps at and was on my knees in an
instant blowing for dear life. But it was no
use. could discern tiny spark, but try as l
might could not fan 1t into flame. Then 1
thought of my whisky bottle, and although
hated to do it, pulled the cork and gave the
tiny spark drink. The effect was mar
Vicious and in jify l had a
flame and later a roaring big fire.
l fixed things up bit, gathered supply OF
wood and settled myself for a good night rest,
for the condition OF things outside made a
journey home that day out of the question.
Ny supper was scant. but l relished it and
tumbled into my blanket and rolled over near
the fire and wen. to sleep. 1t was dark when 1
awoke, although 1t was nearly o'clock. The
storm outside had subsidized and 1 was Just
thinking seriously OF breakfast when q low
growl IN distant portion of the cave set my
hair on end and made me feel for my rifle
What was it! Where was it? dared not move
for fear of making noise, and l wanted to be
prepared when the fight came. The
thought Of the death of my friend in
this very cave some years before sent cold
chills down my back. Was 20 share his fate?
Then my reverie was broken up by a move
ment followed by shuffling in the extreme
right end Of the cave and waited no longer
but fired. The shutting ceased for moment
and blood-curdling growl broke the stiffness.
knew then it was a bear and drew my revolver
and shot az fast as could pull the trigger.
Then l drew my knife. and none too soon, for
the wounded bear was upon me, and We Tough.
it out. Well hero l am, able to tell the story.
which plainly tells the outcome OF that fight.
Nothing remains to tell, save that l breakfasted
off of old bruin and reached homo in time for
supper. 1t was q memorable Christmas how
ever, for me, and / don't want another SUCH