The Second William Penn | Page 4

whinnying to me, stamp on the ground and wake me up. I usually
scared them away by shooting over their heads.
When we had several passengers, and wished to make time, we took
two coaches with two drivers and one conductor who had charge over
the two coaches. There was the baggage of several passengers to carry,
bedding for ourselves, provision for the whole crew and feed for the
mules. We usually made from fifty to sixty miles a day, owing to the
condition of the road and weather.
Sometimes coyotes and mountain wolves would molest us. The
mountain wolf is about as large as a young calf, and at times they are

very dangerous and blood-thirsty. At one time when my brother, C.W.
Ryus, was with me and we were going into Fort Larned with a sick
mule, five of those large and vicious mountain wolves suddenly
appeared as we were driving along the road. They stood until we got
within a hundred feet of them. I cracked my whip and we shot over
their heads. They parted, three going on one side of the road and two on
the other. They went a short distance and turned around and faced us.
We thought we were in for a battle, and again we fired over their heads,
and, greatly to our satisfaction and peace of mind, they fled. We were
glad to be left alone and were willing to leave them unharmed. Had we
used our guns to draw blood it is possible that they would have given
chase and devoured us. We would not have been in the least alarmed
had we advanced upon five Indians, for we would have invited them to
join us and go to the station with us and get something to eat. Not so
with the wolves, they might have exacted our bodies before they were
satisfied with the repast.
I was never afraid of Indians, so hardly ever took an escort. My greatest
fear was that some white man would get frightened at the sight of the
reds and kill one of their band, and I knew if that should happen we
were in grave danger. I always tried to impress my passengers that to
protect ourselves we must guard against the desire to shoot an Indian.
Not knowing how to handle an Indian would work chaos among us.
The Indians did not like the idea of the white race being afraid of
them--the trains amassing themselves together seemed to mean to the
Indian that they were preparing for battle against them, and that made
them feel like "preparing for war in time of peace."
At one time on my route I remember as we were passing Fort Dodge,
Kansas, a fort on the Arkansas River, there was a caravan of wagons
having trouble with the Indians. I had an escort of some ten or fifteen
soldiers, but we passed through the fray with no trouble or hair-splitting
excitement.
CHAPTER II.
The Nine Mile Ridge Massacre.

During the coldest time in winter, in the month of January, 1863, nine
freight wagons left Santa Fe, New Mexico, on their way East. A few
miles before they reached the Nine Mile Ridge they encountered a band
of almost famished Indians, who hailed with delight the freight wagons,
thinking they could get some coffee and other provision. In this lonely
part of the world, seventy-five miles from Fort Larned, Kansas, and a
hundred and sixty-five miles from Fort Lyon, without even a settler
between, it was uncomfortable to even an Indian to find himself
without rations.
The Nine Mile Ridge was a high elevation above the Arkansas River
road running close to the river, on top of the ridge. The Indians
followed the wagons several miles, imploring the wagon boss to give
them something to eat and drink, which request he steadily refused in
no uncertain voice. When it was known by the red men that the wagon
boss was refusing their prayers for subsistence they knew of no other
method to enforce division other than to take it from the wagons.
The leader of the band went around to the head of the oxen and
demanded them to corral, stop and give them some provision. During
the corraling of the train one wagon was tipped partly over and the
teamster shot an Indian in his fright. Then the Indians picked up their
wounded warrior, placed him on a horse and left the camp, determined
to return and take an Indian's revenge upon the caravan. The wagon
boss went into camp well satisfied--but not long was his satisfaction to
last.
After the Indians departed several teamsters who thought they knew
what was desired by the Indians reproached their wagon-boss for not
having complied with their request to