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Drannan, William F., 1832-1913

"Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains"

I searched that patch of brush thoroughly, but could find no
Indian or anything else, and the boys all enjoyed a hearty laugh
at my expense.
The sergeant proposed that we all have a smoke, so we turned our
horses loose to graze. The sergeant lit his pipe, threw off his
overcoat and laid down to rest. As he cast his eyes heavenward in
the direction of the top of the only pine tree that stood in that
patch of brush, he exclaimed: "Captain, I have found your Indian."
Of course we all commenced looking for the Indian, and I asked
where he was, whereupon he told me to look up in the pine tree,
and on looking I beheld an Indian with whom I was well acquainted,
as he had been to my ranch several times in company with Captain
Jack.
I asked him to come down, telling him that I would protect him if
he would, but he would not utter a word, nor would he come down. I
tried for at least a half hour to induce him to come down until I
had exhausted all the persuasive powers I possessed, but to no
avail.
I told the sergeant that I had treed his Indian, and now he could
do as he pleased with him, and the sergeant ordered him shot down,
after which we returned to headquarters, this being the only
Indian seen on the trip.
The next morning Gen. Wheaton sent for me to come to his quarters,
which I did, and in a conversation with him he asked me if I was
still of the same opinion concerning the council meeting as when I
talked with him before.


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