Barton County KS Archives History - Books .....Early Reminiscences 1912 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/ks/ksfiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Joy Fisher sdgenweb@gmail.com July 23, 2005, 1:07 am Book Title: Biographical History Of Barton County EARLY REMINISCENCES By Luther Frost of Liberty I CAME to Kansas early during the spring of 1872. Great Bend was then in its infancy, with only a part of what is now the Southern Hotel and two other small houses built. During the month of August, 1872, some of my neighbors and myself concluded to try our hand at killing buffalo, as the grasshoppers had destroyed our little crops of sod corn, gardens, etc. August 13th, we fitted up and started for the present site of Dodge City. While eating dinner near the lone tree on the Arkansas river 25 miles below Fort Dodge, a flock of blackbirds lit down near us and I made a proposition to kill a dozen and have a stew for our suppers as we were out of fresh meat. Some of the boys laughed at the idea of killing a dozen at one shot. I fired one shot and we picked up sixty-two birds and many more were scattered over the prairie that we did not get. We had not finished picking up the birds when the cry of "Indians!" was heard. Everything was packed into the wagons and we started pel-mel for a rocky hill on which we intended to sell our lives as dearly as possible. After getting in position, we discovered that the supposed Indians were a company of U. S. cavalry that had come down to the river to get water. We were very much relieved, palpitating hearts resumed their natural motion, and trembling nerves were steady as iron. Our greatest loss was that of the birds which we had left in our haste to get to a place of safety. 16th. Arrived on the hunting ground south of the river and saw a sight new to most of us. As far as we could see, to the east, west and south, was a vast herd of buffalo. We estimated that we could see ever 500,000 at one sight. We pitched our camp and made preparations for work; cleaned our rifles; sharpened our knives; and prepared to stretch hides by the wholesale. 17th. Imagine my feelings as I approached the first herd of old bulls. I could not possibly get nearer than three hundred yards. A natural instinct of danger seemed to keep me at a safe distance. I had read of hair-breadth escapes and terrible encounters with these giants of the prairie and was not overly anxious to make a close acquaintance with them. The fact is they looked dangerous; and they would naturally impress a person that they meant business by shaking their heads at him and pawing up great clouds of dust. My first impression was that I had better try my hand at long-range shooting, so if they were inclined to be vicious I could take leg bail and have a good start. Shooting at long range did not pan out very well, as my nerves were a little unsettled, and every time I would fire some old fellow would look toward me, lick out his tongue, and shake his head, as if to say "Don't come any nearer; you might get into trouble." I tried several times to muster up courage and crawl nearer; but at last made up my mind to shoot at long range if it took all summer to get our wagons loaded with hides. The result was I fired about forty shots, killed seven buffalos, and crawled clear out of sight of the herd, leaving over one hundred buffalo standing looking at me as I crawled away. I suppose they imagined that I was a cowardly coyote. We soon loaded our wagons with hides, recrossed the river, and camped on the site of Dodge City. "Now boys, we can take a good sound sleep tonight, no danger of Indians," was the general word. I had an aching tooth that would not let me sleep. About midnight I heard a horse approaching. It was a dark night and I could just see the outlines of a man on the horse. I did not think strange of this as there were several railroaders camped near us and several loose horses had come to our camp. I took my gun and crawled out to the horses, without awakening the boys. The fellow rode up within 20 paces, took hold of a picket rope, and commenced drawing the horse toward him. I could not tell whether it was one of our boys or one of the strays. So to be on the safe side and not shoot an innocent man, I said "Look here, my friend!" He put spurs to his horse and was off like a shot. I sent a couple of caliber 50 after him but he made good his escape. All was confusion in camp, "Shoot him!" came from all sides. Several of our neighbor camps lost horses that night. The thieves made a general raid along the line of the road, and but for aching tooth we would have lost our horses. We finally got home to Great Bend safe and sound. All but one of our party are still in Barton County. A little incident happened to one of our Barton County boys which was laughable as well as serious. We were out killing buffalo about seventy miles south of Great Bend. I had purchased a new gun and expected to do wonders in the line of killing buffalo. It was a cold windy morning In November and I could not or did not do good execution. I do not blame the boys for finding fault with me. One of them said that he could do better himself. I gave him the gun and told him to try his hand. He crawled up to a herd of old bulls and knocked three of them down at three successive shots. "That's well done!" the boys said. "He's a rattler! He's after their pelts?" The herd suddenly stampeded. They did not like to see the heels of their companions flying up so rapidly. Our hero followed in rapid pursuit, passing the supposed dead bulls. He had passed them about one hundred paces when one of them rose to his feet and started straight toward our hero. Louy did not hear the approach of his pursuers until the bull was upon him. He turned his head just in time to find himself going one way and the gun the other. The bull paid no attention to him; but kept on his course, to the great relief of Louy and the rest of us. No damage done, except a badly torn shirt and coat. At another time we were camped on the headwaters of the Ninnescah. One morning I took my gun and started to a herd of buffalo that were grazing about a mile from camp. When about a quarter of a mile from camp the boys commenced hollowing at me and motioning for me to come back. Before I could get to camp they had the teams hitched up, and were going at a run dawn the creek to another camp. I finally came up to them, after a run of about half a mile, and wanted to know what was causing such a stir. The answer was we had better be making tracks if we did not want our hair lifted. The red devils were coming, and there was a host of them, with red blankets and banners flying. I just told my companions that I would go back and meet the whole host and see if they were on the warpath. So I marched boldly back to meet the enemy, which proved to be an innocent buffalo herd marching quietly down toward our camp. The joke was, I had seen the buffalo coming and had an idea that the boys had seen them and taken them to be Indians, so I could afford to be brave while my companions ran away to reinforce another camp. We finally got things righted and had a good laugh over the affair. One of my companions declares to this day that he saw Indians and could plainly see their bows and arrows. 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