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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"

We got back to headquarters
about noon the next day and learned that Lieut. Jackson had gone
in a different direction after another band of Apaches, which he
overhauled and got twelve scalps from their number.
Now we started for a trip on the east side of Black canyon, six
scouts and one company of cavalry, with twenty-two pack animals,
calculating to be gone about ten days. On the fifth day of our
trip George Jones, myself and two other scouts were riding
leisurely along about one mile in advance of the command when just
as we raised to the top of a little rocky ridge we came face to
face with a band of Indians, making a surprise to both parties. I
could not tell which party fired first, but we gave them one round
and seeing that there were too many of them for us, we wheeled and
started back down the hill. As we did so George sang out: "My
horse is shot," and just at that time the horse fell. George threw
himself clear of the horse and when he struck the ground he lit
running, and at his best licks, too. The rest of us dropped behind
George to protect him until we were off the rocky ground. The
Indians held their distance all the way down the hill, not
stopping to reload their When we were at the foot of the hill the
three of us that were mounted, in order to give George Jones a
chance to ascend the hill, turned and gave them another volley.


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