Chapter 6

Colorado Territory, December, 1870

"How the shit did I ever get myself into weather like this? One day it's warm enough for shirtsleeves and the next it's cold enough for an overcoat. I don't mind one or the other, but this changing back and forth really gets to me! I think I'll duck into that gun shop to warm up. If I get any misery about being in the store, I'll make like I want to buy something.

"Would you look at that. A pistol that uses the same ammunition as my Henry. And I can afford it! That pistol can be reloaded so fast that I don't need more than one. I've got to have it right now!

"Hey, mister, I want one of those Smith & Wesson #3 pistols in Henry rifle caliber. How much will you give me in trade for two 'Army Brass' pistols? That's all? OK, I'll take it anyway. How much for the holster?"

Cletus could hardly wait to try out his new pistol. As soon as the weather broke, He went out of town and shot off a hundred rounds or so. Man, that was a sweet pistol! Not only was it faster to reload and fire than the Army Brass, it was a Hell of a lot more accurate! Cletus expected to hit anything he shot at up to 15 to 20 yards away.

At this time, Cletus had a pretty good job as a night watchman for the railroad. The pay was $46 a month and he could sleep in the warehouse during the day. He could eat for less than $1 per day, so he was able to save a little money. That was how he could afford his new pistol. Cletus' only problem was that he was lonely. He had no friends and he sure didn't have a woman. He really wanted a wife, but couldn't find any Negro, Chinese, or Indian women in town. The White whores wanted nothing to do with him, so he had to keep himself happy. He planned to go looking for agreeable Indians as soon as the weather improved.

Colorado Territory, April, 1871

It was a relief to get on the prairie and away from town; Cletus was glad to escape those White people who could look at him only with contempt. He had met a few Whites who could treat him as a man instead of as a nigger, but they were few and far between. That attitude was really depressing; that was why Cletus generally preferred Indian society. Cletus had never met an Indian bigot! He was looking for Arapaho or Cheyenne camps; maybe one of them would welcome him.

Cletus saw some buffalo off in the distance, so he headed that way. Where there were buffalo, there were likely to be Indians. As he got closer, he saw some smoke; Cletus couldn't tell if it was from cooking fires or what? There would have to be one monstrous sized camp to warrant that much cooking smoke, so he was a bit concerned. He sped up, because he was sure that somebody needed help. As he got closer, he heard an occasional gun shot, but was already going as fast as he dared; it wouldn't do to have his horse step in a gopher hole.

At last, he could finally see the camp. The smoke was coming from burned tipis; it reminded him of the Yankton massacre. Cletus could now see the bodies of Cheyenne women and children, with a very few men. Well, now he knew who had been killed, but not who had done the killing.

Cletus had to get away from there, and fast. If any warriors rode in, and he expected them soon, he could be mistaken for an attacker. The safest thing for him to do was ride out exactly the same route he had followed coming in; that way he was least likely to see any warriors. He left without further delay.

Originally, Cletus had been riding east, so he had the afternoon sun at his back. That made him harder to see, and he hoped that would help as he rode away from the murdered camp. Once he was out of sight of the camp, he swung south to loop around the camp and resume his trek eastward.

Cletus had ridden for a few miles when he saw some Indians off to his left. He figured that if he could see them, they could see him. If they were from the murdered camp, he had only one recourse: Cletus frantically waved as if he were trying to attract their attention. He was sure that they would not expect an enemy to act that way. He started riding toward them and they rode toward him. When they got close enough, he saw that they were Cheyenne; he had probably guessed correctly.

Cletus did not speak their language and they did not know the dialect of Sioux that he knew, so he resorted to sign language. He couldn't convey any delicate or subtle nuances through sign language, but he was able to verify that they were from the murdered camp and were looking for the enemy. Cletus told them that he had not seen anything to help them, but would join them if they wished. They were glad to have him, one more warrior could come in very handy. They signed that they were one of four scouting parties looking for the attackers, but they didn't know who, specifically, they were looking for.

They rode until dark without finding any sign of the attackers, so the decision was made to camp where they were and return to the murdered camp in the morning. They were off at daybreak and returned to the site of the murdered camp by noon.

Cletus looked around the camp to see if he could spot any clue as to who the attackers had been. He couldn't find any sign of brass cartridge cases, but there was some evidence of rifle balls and he had heard shooting. Cletus talked (signed) with several of the warriors who were also examining the site; they reported that the men were scalped and hands were taken. All of this suggested that the raid had be made by Indians, not Whites. If the attack had been by Indians, they probably were Utes.

This was a little far east for Utes, but it could have been a band of young warriors out on a lark who just got lucky when they found an unguarded camp. It had happened, before. The consensus was Utes, so a search was mounted in a sweep from southwest to northwest to try to find some sign. A trail was found in short order. The attackers had made no effort to hide their trail, either from overconfidence or from a hope that they would be followed, or both! Both possibilities suggest youth and inexperience; it takes a while to learn the adage: "never underestimate your enemy!"

They started after them as fast as they safely could; fortunately they had some experienced warriors in the group who were able to restrain the younger ones. The camp that night was somewhat chaotic; the younger warriors could not calm down and get to sleep. Cletus did spend some time with the older men trying to learn as much of their language as he could. He seemed to have a knack for learning languages, so he was able to make considerable progress. It beat signing for communication during combat!

At the urging of the young ones, they were away before daylight the next morning and traveled straight through the daylight hours; they only rested when the horses required it. They thought that their camp that night would be the last before sighting the enemy. Even though there was much excitement in camp, Cletus was still able to find someone to help him with his language lessons. By this time, he had learned what he needed for war talk, but he still had a long way to go to have a peaceful conversation. That would have to wait!

At mid morning the next day, one of the scouts rode up to the war chief and said that he had seen about 30 Utes riding slowly, a couple of miles ahead. The war chief, Standing-Bear, called them all together and they discussed strategy. Since they were about evenly matched in numbers, it was decided to wait until the Utes made camp before they attacked. Standing-Bear thought that the Utes would continue to be careless and they could get very close before the Utes saw them. Cletus pointed out to Standing-Bear that his pistol gave him a distinct advantage in close combat, but he was willing to do any job Standing-Bear thought best.

Standing-Bear was a little surprised that Cletus did not want to lead the attack, but was willing to place himself under his command. Cletus said that he had been an "officer" in the US Army, so he knew how to take orders. Cletus also told him that he had been a war chief for the Yankton Sioux. At this, Standing-Bear decided to split his command and give Cletus the southern half of the attack, while he took the northern half. That way, he, too, could actually join in the fight and not have to be so concerned about directing it. Cletus agreed and Standing-Bear relayed this change to his men. Some were dubious, but enough were agreeable that they settled on that plan of attack.

Cletus called his men together so that he could get to know them a little bit. Most had breech-loading rifles and carbines, so they would be able to shoot more than once during the heat of the battle, but one of the men had only a lance. Cletus offered to lend the man his Henry, but made sure the warrior understood that it was a loan and not a gift. Cletus showed him how the lever worked and told him he had 15 shots. His eyes glowed at that news, so Cletus warned him not to waste bullets, since he could not reload during the fight. He calmed at that, and assured Cletus that he understood.