The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1897-09-03
AN ENGINEERS STORY

son and i, IN the same ward. was i'll
from the effects of bucking snow in the
mountains and he had been hurt in col
lision in the Trinidad yards. He was the
travelling engineer of the road, and while
he was asleep in Colonel Ricker's special
a standard gauge engine had crashed into
the car and Wilson had his right leg bro
ken above the knee. Wilson was so years
old, and the process of knitting the broken
bone together was extremely painful 1t
grew so serious at one time that we were
alarmed. The sufferer was thrown into
fever and talked tout of his head Away
in the night, when the nurse nodded over
against the wall, Wilson, delirious, told
me some wonderful tales.
Frank said l one day when he was
able to sit up in bed, ''you used to tell the
best Indian stories when the fever was
high that ever heard. -
When had retold some of them to him,
he took off his glasses and declared that
what he had said in his delirium was
wholly true. He had been the engineer on
the construction train which laid the track
of the Kansas Pacific. 81 have often run
so miles without being out of sight of
buffalo, said he. 81 have seen a single
band that made procession so long that
you could see neither the head nor the tail
of the herd. They were interesting, but
not nearly so much SO as the Indians were.
I remember one morning our conductor
took rifle and went out to shoot buff
fa1o for breakfast Our camp was in a lit
tie valley along one side of which ran a
high chalk bluff. We had seen no Indians
for nearly a week. and SO were getting
careless. The conductor was stalking a
herd, hugging the bluffs. when he was
surprised by band of Indians who began
to shower arrows at him from the top of
the wall. He must have seen that they
could not descend SO steep cliff, but in
stead of retreating across the open vale
refuge under the bluff. Here for a time
he was secure. A line of redskins stood
upon the wall ready to fill his back with
arrows the moment he started to fly, while
others with clubs, tomahawks and rocks
began the work of crun bling the shelflike
wall away in order to reach their victim.
"For nearly an hour the wild yells of
the bloodthirsty hair lifters filed his ears
and froze his blood. At first the falling
debris dropped some feet in front of him,
but as the Indians, by constant stamping
and beating, wore the projecting shelf
away the broken rock began to pile high
in front of him, and, rolling about his
feet, threatened to bury him alive. Now
the red villains, hanging over the wall,
began to send arrows at him. The cloud
of dust made by the falling rock and dirt
made it impossible for the conductor to
use his rifle when the Indians poked their
painted faces over the WALL The most he
could do was to discharge his rife at ran
dom occasionally to show them that he
was still alive and fighting. Almost be-
fore he was aware of it, he found himself
prisoner. The bits of rock had piled up,
about his feet until he found it impossible
to move. There was nothing now to hope
for, as he knew well that his tormentors
would never give over the fight until he
was either killed by an arrow or buried
alive.
'What the poor fellow thought or how
he felt in the face of this crisis we may
not know.
"When an hour had gone by and he did
not return, party went to look for him.
In little while we came within sight of
the band of murderers the cliffs and
readily guessed that the conductor was be-
ing besieged-
Squirting our horses to dead run, we
charged the band, and when within rifle
range began to pour the lead into them.
For time they withstood the storm brave
ly, but never an arrow was aimed at US.
An Indian would hang over the wall,
two three of his companions holding on
to his feet, and send poisoned arrow aft
er the conductor. Some of them were
wounded or killed by our bullets, but that
seemed to make them more determined to
kill the prisoner. We were by no means
anxious to approach within reach of their
arrows, but the problem of rescuing the
conductor was now becoming serious
one Even now he might be dead, for we
could neither see nor hear him, SO great
was the din and the dust.
Finding it impossible to drive the red
devils away from their murderous work,
our commander ordered us to charge, and
galloping up within a hundred yards of
the bluff we halted, and taking deliberate
aim let fly shower of lead that sent a
half dozen Indians to the earth. At that
moment an Indian who had just discharged
an arrow at the imprisoned conductor
leaped to his feet and gave an exultant
yell. Instantly the whole band, taking
up the cry, disappeared behind the edge of
the cliff. Leaving majority of our force
on guard, the captain and I approached
the spot toward which the Indians had
been aiming their arrows So dense was
the cloud of dust that hung about the hill
in the still morning air that we were un-
able for time to locate the unfortunate
man. To all our calls he made no reply,
and we knew that he was beyond human
aid.
"When we finally found him, he was
still standing upright with the chalk from
the bluff piled above his waist. "A num-
Der of arrows were sticking in his arms
and shoulders. Only the small end of one
stood above his coat. 1t had entered just
behind his collar bone, near the left side of
his neck, and passing downward the point
of it had pierced his heart. His head hung
upon his breast, w lille his helpless hands
rested upon the rocks that had been heaped
around him. 1t would be as impossible
for me to describe the expression on the
dead man face as it has been for me TO
forget it. 1t was sight to take out of a
white mans heart any whit of Christian
sympathy he may have harbored there for
his red brother. 1t was hard to look upon
there, but when we had carried the poor
fellows body back to his home and borne
| it up to the door of little white cottage,
J to the very spot upon which he had kissed
| his wife and baby goodby only few days
! before, it wa: harder still. When his gray
haired mother bent her stiff knees beside