Seven and Nine years Among the Camanches and Apaches - An Autobiography

Edwin Eastman

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• Publié par: zoev
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 15
• Langue: English
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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Seven and Nine years Among the Camanches
and Apaches, by Edwin Eastman
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Title: Seven and Nine years Among the Camanches and Apaches
An Autobiography
Author: Edwin Eastman
Release Date: November 5, 2008 [EBook #27164]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMONG THE CAMANCHES AND APACHES ***
Produced by Bryan Ness, Barbara Kosker and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from scans of public domain works at the
University of Michigan's Making of America collection.)Mr. Eastman in Costume.
Seven and Nine Years
AMONG THE
CAMANCHES AND APACHES.
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
JERSEY CITY, N. J.
PUBLISHED BY CLARK JOHNSON, M.D.
1874.Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by
CLARK JOHNSON, M.D., JERSEY CITY, N. J.,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
[Pg 3]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. INTRODUCTORY 5
II. THE CAPTURE 18
A STRANGE ADVENTUREIII. 22
AGAIN A PRISONERIV. 30
THE INDIAN TOWNV. 39
THE TORTUREVI. 47
WA-KO-MET-KLAVII. 57
A NEW VOCATIONVIII. 68
IX. THE "MYSTERY BAG" 78
X. INDIAN LIFE 86
XI. MRS. EASTMAN'S STORY 95
MRS. EASTMAN'S STORY CONTINUEDXII. 103
MRS. EASTMAN'S STORY CONTINUEDXIII. 111
HOPES AND FEARS—AN ADVENTUREXIV. 119
TREED BY A GRIZZLYXV. 125
SOME CURIOUS CUSTOMSXVI. 134
THE BUFFALO DANCEXVII. 142
A STRANGE HISTORYXVIII. 150
A STRANGE HISTORY CONTINUEDXIX. 159
XX. THE BUFFALO HUNT 171
[Pg 4]XXI. MRS. EASTMAN'S STORY CONTINUED 184
FEASTS, FASTS, AND FACTSXXII. 192
THE WAR PARTYXXIII. 208
MY FIRST SCALPXXIV. 222
THE FEAST OF THE GREEN CORNXXV. 238
DANGER AHEADXXVI. 242
THE ESCAPEXXVII. 249
A NEW DEPARTUREXXVIII. 263
XXIX. THE "VIGILANTS" 277
XXX. CONCLUSION 290[Pg 5]
SEVEN AND NINE YEARS
AMONG THE CAMANCHES AND APACHES.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
In making my bow to the public as an author, I feel it incumbent upon me to
make a brief explanation of the motives that induced me to attempt this
autobiographical sketch of nine years of my life. At intervals during the past
decade, the country has been electrified by the recital of some horror
perpetrated by Indians on white travelers, and those, who, having journeyed to
[Pg 6]the Far West, had settled, intending to make the wilderness blossom like the
rose. Through the medium of the press, the details of these heart-rending
cruelties were widely disseminated, and aroused the just indignation of all
peaceful and order-loving citizens. To such an extent did popular feeling rise at
times, that farmers and drovers on the border, organized themselves into
bands, and on the report of some fresh outrage hastened to the scene, pursued
the perpetrators of the deed, and not unfrequently visited upon the Indians a
vengeance ofttimes of a very sanguinary character.
In these forays of the savages, they frequently carried off to their mountain
fastnesses women and children, who were never heard of more. Thus, when
our feelings were harrowed up by the report of butcheries, the tales of life-longsuffering of the forlorn captives were scarcely ever known. Snatched ruthlessly
from the bosom of their families, they were mourned for a time and then they, by
slow degrees, faded from the memory of their friends and relatives, and when
thought of at all, it was as of those dead. In these chapters I will detail the trials
and sufferings of such as these, believing that the experiences of my wife and
myself, during our captivity among the Camanches and Apaches, will serve as
a prototype of many similar cases.
It was some time, and with not a little persuasion before I could be induced to
overcome the diffidence I felt about making my private history public, and
[Pg 7]appearing in print. By those who have become authors, my feelings will be
understood and appreciated; but to others who constitute the reading public it
would be impossible to describe the trepidation with which the tyro puts forth
his first literary venture, and had it not been for the earnest entreaties of my
esteemed friend, Dr. Clark Johnson, who used naively to say that what was a
source of such pleasure to him must be entertaining to the public, I doubt very
much if I should have ever put pen to paper in the capacity of an author.
With this introduction, I will, as briefly as may be, relate my experiences,
nothing extenuating, and setting down naught in malice.
My family were originally from Massachusetts, my father being a descendant
of the Puritans, he inherited many of the qualities of his ancestors, and, joined
to a high integrity, he possessed a dogged will that at times amounted to
stubbornness. From childhood he had led the life of a farmer, and my earliest
recollections are associated with country life. My father's disposition might be
characterized as restless; and after sojourning for a time in one place, he would
evince symptoms of uneasiness which would result in the family moving to
some new spot, and breaking ground in virgin soil on the confines of
civilization. By these successive removals we soon found ourselves far to the
[Pg 8]west of the home of our ancestors, and at the time my father resolved to go to
California, we owned a very nice farm in Missouri, and as far as I could see
were very comfortably situated. On returning from the county seat one Saturday,
my father electrified us with the intelligence that he thought seriously of going
West. Had a bombshell exploded in our midst it could scarcely have created
greater consternation; on inquiring what had induced such a sudden
determination on his part, he was fain to confess that he had met a gentleman
in town who had but just arrived from the new El Dorado, and who spoke so
enthusiastically of this marvelous country, that he led my father's too diligent
ear captive, and his mind was saturated with the desire to see, without further
delay, this wonderful land. The rest of the family stoutly objected to such a
hasty resolve, and we finally effected a compromise, and it was agreed that the
stranger should be invited to spend a portion of his time at our house, and
during his visit we could consult, argue, and finally conclude what action
should be taken in the matter.
I had serious misgivings that our fair home was doomed; knowing too well
my father's character, and that any objections we might make to the proposed
departure would only strengthen his determination to have his own way. Such
was his intense love for the unknown, that any plausible fellow could induce
him to see the advantages of owning a thousand acres of wild land to his own
well-tilled homestead.
[Pg 9]The following week Mr. Terhune made his advent among us. He was a fair
type of the adventurer, and seemed a man who could be equal to any
emergency circumstances might demand; of robust form, a complexion bronzed
by exposure, and with an address so pleasing when he wished to exert himself,
that he soon became a favorite, especially with the female portion of the family.
He adapted himself to our mode of life with wonderful ease, and apparentlywas making preparations for a visit that should outlast our expectations. The
beauties and advantages of a home in his adopted State was his constant
theme; and so pleasantly did he talk, illustrating his arguments with anecdotes
so amusing and apposite, that I felt myself being perceptibly influenced by his
views, and used to dream of climbing trees of prodigious height, and gathering
nuggets from their branches as if they were apples. When lending an assisting
hand at our farm labors, he would descant on the fertility of the soil on the
Pacific Slope, saying that crops grew almost spontaneously, and related what
fortunes could be made raising sheep.
By such means were we seduced into the conviction that a change of base
was not only advantageous, but necessary, and it was finally decided to go. Mr.
Terhune said he could negotiate an exchange, by which we could dispose of
our farm for California real estate, whereby we would be the gainers; and one
[Pg 10]Monday morning in April, he left us for St. Louis, to complete the trade and
purchase. Our intentions becoming known in the vicinity, our neighbors
seemed to take an especial interest in our movements, and many were the
staid old farmers who called to offer us their advice and wishes for our future
prosperity. Being notified that all was in readiness, and that we could start as
soon as it suited our convenience, we lost no time in packing what few articles
we required, and bidding our friends adieu, we commenced our journey.
Arriving in St. Louis, we were greeted by Mr. Terhune who escorted us to the
Planters' Hotel, where we were temporarily to reside until the steamboat on
which we were to embark was ready to leave. The few days spent in the
metropolis of the West, was thoroughly enjoyed by our little party, as under the
guidance of our friend we visited all the places of interest in the n