The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1936-10-30

stagecoach there. One day Bill sug-
gested: Lets go hunting, john"
And so the two men started for Hell
Roaring creek. John smiles as he tells
have been the matter with Bills eyes
that day. He kept seeing things where
nothing was. Once he took q shot at
five elk only to discover that they were
nothing but trees. And when he did
see elk and aimed he missed"
Mistaken for Elk
During the course of that fall day the
CHANGED, though, that they. followed
the same trail, each without the others
knowledge, and John was some dis
lance ahead Of Mr.. Roach. Presently
Bill saw something moving in the
thick timber ahead. He took careful
aim and fired. This time his shot did
not miss. But, to his horror, when he
ran to his Pre-. he discovered that he
For one awful minute Bill thought he
was dead. The bullet, John says, hit
his back, inflicting a flesh wound,
graZed his side and came out through
his vest pocket. He was weak from
shock and loss of blood but when
Bill knelt beside him and began to
sob John managed a laugh.
not hurt"
Somehow, slowly, Bill Roach made
his way to a cabin they knew about on
He'll Roaring creek with his wounded
companion. There they found four
other hunters. For the sake of his
friend, who was suffering an agony
of remorse and anxiety, John made
light of his trouble and explained that
he had been frost bitten. Bill helped
him to bed. All that day, after the
trail, Bill bathed and dressed the
wound and applied heated rocks to
the side. He was a good nurse, John
says, and faithful. For six weeks the
latter was bed ridden and during that
time Bill Roach never left him and the
others never suspected the truth. Later
the hunters, when they went to Gar
He'll Roaring creek they had left two
of the LATEST men in Montana. wouldn't
hunt, wouldn't chop wood, wouldn't
do anything but just lie around and
make a big fuss about a little frost
bite. It was some weeks before John
had recovered sufficiently to be moved.
Then Bill Roach took him to Gardiner.
of the hides he made the famous, 16-
strand, six-horse, buckhide whip and
gave it to his friend as a token of his
remorse. Visitors to the park museum,
viewing the whip, are told that it be-
longed to the Oldest stagecoach driver
in Montana, but they may not sus-
pect that it is an emblem of penitent,
N the plains.
Thwarted a Card Game Shooting
In 1876, just a few years after the
Custer massacre, John, then about 20
years of age, began his career as a
~stagecoach driver under Warfield, who
ran a stagecoach line from Helena to
Carroll, hauling passengers express
and mail. At first the boy took care of
the horses es;,. and ,s Occasionally ly served cry; Ia as
ing as mule tender and extra driver
the regular driver failed to report and
Warfield sent the boy with an outfit
comprising wagon and four-horse team
to Martinsdale with the mail. Among
his passengers were Sherman, Reed
and Judge Sterret. At that time the
Crows, who were moving camp, had been
active horse trading with the whites.
When the coach arrived at. Martins
dale the three men, all friends, started
a poker game, with blankets, moccasins,
guns and horses-all the loot. they had
recently won from the Crows-for
stakes" Years later Sherman and Reed
became partners in n of Butte's
q un~oerIaKer ana livery 1lrHlS,
incorporating their company under
the name Sherman and Reed.
But on this day, 60 years ago, as
they played they drank and drink
made them quarrelsome. Sterret &C
cused Reed, doubtless unjustly, Of
cheating, and Reed leaned across the
table and slapped Sterret on the mouth.
John Reynolds was but a boy then
but he had witnessed plenty Of poker
games where the blood of the players
ran hot and where their hands were
quick to their guns. He knew that such