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16. The Little Bighorn Battlefield

Edited and Annotated by Charles M. Robinson III University of North Texas Press PDF

Chapter 16

The Little Bighorn Battlefield

July 14th. Broke camp, taking trail alongside of Mountain overlooking Shell Creek. Had considerable difficulty in forcing a trail through trees and bushes and over rocks and especially across ground made miry by the great number of springs bubbling to the surface.

After one and [a] half miles march, found Shell creek at a point where it had split into several channels: the largest some thirty feet wide, three deep and with a current whose velocity could not have been less than twelve miles an hour. When we had accomplished this feat, we heard the booming and roaring of a great affluent a short distance ahead and knew that our day’s labor had but just commenced. This “affluent”, as we at first termed it, turned out to be the main stream. It was nearly twenty five yards broad, two and three feet deep and of an exceeding velocity, its waters being churned to foam as they fretted along among the rocks which projected like teeth from the bottom. On this account these crossings have had enough of the element of danger to make them interesting, but up to this time no disaster has occurred. (General Sandy Forsyth was nearly drowned in No Wood creek, but I forgot to refer to the incident in its proper place.)

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6. Sojourn in the Mountains and a Visit to Denver

Edited and Annotated by Charles M. Robinson III University of North Texas Press PDF

Chapter 6

Sojourn in the Mountains and a Visit to Denver


hursday, August 29th. Bade farewell to our good friends, the

Stantons and started at 6 in the morning for Salt Lake, to take the train for the East. On the cars, fell into conversation with a gentleman from Arizona; his description of the overt progress made in that Territory amazed me greatly. He showed me a mining map [marking] the locations of the various ledges, mills &c. in what are known as the “Globe”, [“]Mineral” and “Pinal” districts.

I scouted all over that region in 1870-1-2-3, when it was the chosen haunt of the Apaches, who defied every effort of our Government to subdue them until General Crook was sent to take the field against them. How well his work was done, it is not necessary here to say, but for his important services, Crook was made Brigadier General in response to the demands of the whole Pacific Coast. It was with great interest that I listened to the account of the progress of a Territory which in my day was such a wild and hostile region.

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10. Batson Prairie Oil

Paul N. Spellman. University of North Texas Press ePub



There is no way of holding a prisoner here except to chain him to a tree with chain and lock

The assignment given Captain Brooks on March 18, 1903, must surely have opened a festering old wound in his soul. Even as he was making preparations to complete the move of Company A out to Laredo, Brooks was ordered to Yoakum to assist Atascosa County Sheriff Matthew Avant and two Rangers from Captain Hughes’s company in escorting Gregorio Cortez Lira to his trial in Pleasanton. Gregorio, the man who had killed Brooks’s friend Brack Morris two years earlier, had been in a San Antonio jail most of that time awaiting this next turn in the judiciary system. His stay in a Yoakum jail resulted from one of many changes of venue. Brooks reports only that he met the Rangers and Avant at the depot in Floresville where they headed to Yoakum, and that Cortez was safely brought to Pleasanton.1

The story of Gregorio Cortez’s many trials and acquittals stretched on into the next decade. In a personal letter, Capt. John Rogers, the Ranger who captured Gregorio, recalled seeing the just released defendant walking along a San Antonio street some years later, noting the revulsion he felt. One of Cortez’s several trials was presided over by Judge Stanley Welch, a key figure in South Texas politics who had also presided at the Baker trial in early 1903.2

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15. A New Assignment

Edited and Annotated by Charles M. Robinson III University of North Texas Press PDF

Chapter 15

A New Assignment


anuary 27th. After breakfast at the Riggs’, visited Major Powell—at the National Gallery, the new building of the Smithsonian Institute.

This is a magnificent structure, of the finest I have ever seen. Being a little bit too early, I whiled away the moments, preceding Major

Powell’s arrival, in making a hurried examination of a number of the apartments and cases. I succeeded in walking through those devoted to the “seal family”, the “rattlesnakes” and “skunks” and was delighted beyond description, by the order and system of arrangement.

Major Powell coming in received me very warmly and presented me to his assistants, Captain Garrick Mallery of the Army1 and another

1. Garrick Mallery (d. 1895) was a captain of the First Infantry, who first entered the army as a captain of Volunteers during the Civil War. He finished the war with brevets to colonel of Volunteers and lieutenant colonel of the Regular Army. Like Bourke, Mallery became interested in American Indian culture during service in the West. He pioneered research into Indian winter counts with The Dakota and Corbusier Winter Counts. He was placed on detached duty to work on the monumental Handbook of American Indians North of Mexico, but soon abandoned it for his own field work in American Indian pictography and sign language; the Handbook was completed by Frederick Webb Hodge. Mallery’s twovolume Picture Writing of the American Indians, published in the Tenth Annual Report of the American Bureau of Ethnology in 1893, remains in print, as does his Sign Language

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Medium 9781574411799

Chapter VI A Dark and Diabolic Plot

Revised by William Rathmell. Edited with an Introduction and Annotations by Robert K. DeArment University of North Texas Press PDF


rV e t p a


a dark and diabolical plot

While still out on the hunt mentioned in the preceding chapter, and three or four days after the terrible experience with the wolves, the memorable blizzard that swept that section of the country with its wintry blasts in ’87 came upon them and caught them far from home and entirely shelterless. Many settlers and hundreds of head of stock froze to death in that terrible storm, and every living creature suffered from the chilling blasts of its icy breath.1 Our little hunting party tied all the blankets they had in camp over the shivering forms of their horses and then turned them loose, while for themselves they dug a deep pit and stretched a wagon cover over it. During the night they worked incessantly to keep a roaring fire in one end of their hole in the ground, and this they were enabled to do because of having over two hundred pounds of buffalo tallow to feed its flames. It was a dark and terrible night, and one which will remain in the history [memory?] of its survivors as long as they live. When those mighty blizzards of snow are blown over the great tracts of level and unprotected prairie lands in howling hurricanes that

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