Marching with Captain Ahern.
By J. U. Sanders |
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| In 1892, while out camping and hunting in the Clearwater country,
in a beautiful spot on Swan lake, we found Captain George Ahern of the Twenty-fifth United States infantry,
on temporary leave from his command, studying the forestry of the state. Mrs. Ahern and her sister were in
camp, and with violin and the rich strong voices of our party the evenings were very pleasantly spent while
we tarried in the vicinity, and we finally left the region with regrets. Five years later I received an invitation
from the captain at Fort Custer to join him and the command in the initial practice march during the month
of August. I accepted and at the appointed date repaired to the fort by rail. There I met Col. A. S. Daggett,
in command of the regiment, on whose staff Captain Ahern was acting as chief aid, and we spent a day in
making final preparations. Next morning the colonel and his staff, to which I was attached, rode out of the
historic old post in the midst of a heavy windstorm. We were followed by the various companies of the
regiment in double file, each led by its captain, and these were followed by four wagons of provisions and
an ambulance drawn by mules. We crossed the Big Horn river and proceeded south a few miles to a point
on the river bank where we established camp No. 1. To me was assigned a tent which regularly was pitched
adjoining that of Captain Ahern and which was set next to that of Colonel Daggett. |
| On the March |
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| We marched from 10 to 15 Miles a day and among Captain Ahern's
duties was that of selecting camping grounds, in which expeditions I usually joined him. Occasionally, to
relieve the monotony, I would lead my horse and join a captain of fall into line and take a tramp with the
boys of the regiment. Our trip covered about two weeks. Our course was up the west side of the Big Horn
river to the mouth of Beauvar's creek, where some of us visited St. Xavier mission, where the Indian children
of the reservation have the advantage of good schools and training, under the supervision of the Sisters of
some order in the Catholic church devoted to their welfare. Here we turned to the west, following that stream
toward Pryor mountains to the head waters of what was known as Hay creek, which flows to the west into
Pryor's fork. Here occurred the incident which I am induced to narrate. I had been riding and marching for
more than a week and I sought to vary the monotony by an expedition on my own account. To the south
was a large, high table mountain, from the summit of which it would seem one could see all of Montana
and Wyoming, and I was imbued with a desire to make the survey. It had been agreed that the command
would spend the next day at Pryor agency six or seven miles to the west of our camp. On this morning I
decided to go off alone for a half day's hunt, expecting to go into camp at the agency about noon,
Accordingly, I arose at the usual hour and tied my coat, containing a well-filled match pocket, on behind
my saddle, and turned my horse over to a captain, glad to be relieved from the day's tramp. |
| He Kills a Bird |
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| I started out up the creek, which came apparently from my objective
point, the summit of the high mountain. I had not gone far, in fact, the soldiers had not broken camp, when
I killed a bird. At first I thought to turn it into the commissary, but then decided not to go back, and should I
have good luck it would be all right. The fact was, I never again that day saw another feather, but triumphantly
carried the bird until he lost one leg and his head. But I am getting ahead of my story.
I proceeded up the creek till I found myself in something of a canyon with perpendicular sides. To avoid
retracing my steps some distance I found a high tree, against the western wall, which I climbed, and from
its upper branches was able to surmount the rocky precipice and climb to the slope of my favored mountain.
While proceeding up the hill I passed some Indians picking berries, but proceeded on my way without holding
a council with them. When the sun reached the zenith I took up my belt one hole for a lunch.
My trail at last became very steep and, unused as I was to long tramps, I appreciated frequent rests, and
finally, when I reached the summit, I was pretty well tuckered. Using my boots for a pillow, I lay down and
took a snooze. I do not know how long I slept, but on rising the scope of country within my vision did not
satisfy me, and I pushed on to the east for some distance. |
| Thoughts of Camp |
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| Finally I decided that it was time for me to head toward camp. I
thought to make the descent of the mountain at some more favorable point than where I had made the
ascent, and also to take my general course to the northwest, thinking it would take me direct to the agency.
I had not gone down my selected course far when I found myself floundering over fallen timber-it seemed 30
feet deep-but it was too late to turn back, and on I went. I had seen no one since morning and had no
matches and was very hungry and thirsty. The noise of running water under the fallen timber attracted
my attention and I climbed down to it and took a deep draught from the crystal bed. I then proceeded
slowly on my way and it was apparently about 7 o'clock in the evening when I reached the edge of the
valley, pretty well tired out, at sundown with no matches. I took up my belt one hole for supper. I soon
came across a band of horses and thought it would be fortunate if I could catch one and ride to Pryor,
but they wee soon off on the gallop and out of reach. |
| First Night Out |
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| On I trudged, even the howling of the coyotes had no terrors for me,
and I decided that, perhaps, it would be a good scheme to make a bed of pine boughs and sleep till morning.
I stripped a tree of its branches and lay down, but the cool air soon drove me out and compelled me to walk
to keep warm, and on I went. Pointing out my intended course in the morning I had been told on returning
from the mountain top not to take the first road I came to, as it led south to Byron's gap, but to take the
second one, which led to the agency. Accordingly, on entering the valley, noticing a dim trail I mistook it
for the road against which I had been warned, and when a better beaten one appeared I took it and
followed it for hours, I should think. I think it must have been toward midnight after having in the darkness
taken my course to the west of the North star, but coming onto the road which I confidently felt led me to
camp I followed it without reference to directions. At last, having gone down a small hill which shut off my
view to the north, it suddenly dawned on me that I might be on the road to Pryor's gap, and on returning to
the top of the hill and taking a survey of the country I decided was the case. |
| A Light Appears |
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| To the north, many miles away was a large fire, and it occurred to me
that it might be a cap kept up by the boys for my benefit, and I headed for it. I plowed along directly toward it
till it went out and then, I will admit, I was nonplussed. Again taking my course from the stars I went on,
coming at last to a fence which encouraged me to think I would soon come to some farm or Indian camp,
I cared not which.
About 1 o'clock in the morning, in the dim distance, I saw a large wall tent and as I approached it I concluded
it was not an Indian's tent, but probably one of some white man, possibly a sheepherder. I had trudged along
in silence for probably 20 hours, and my throat was very much parched, and when I sought to rouse the
inhabitant of the tent by yelling I found I could not speak above a whisper. I then put a cartridge into by [sic]
shot gun and fired it into the air. I thought it would almost wake the dead. |
| A Novel Situation. |
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| My fondest hopes of a response were answered not only by barking
dogs, but out from the fly of that tent came an Indian stark naked and, I thought, carefully taking his
measurement, about seven feet high. He came towards me and my first sign was that I was thirsty,
which he understood. By sign he told me that he would go into the tent and get a cup and then we
would go to a near-by creek and get a drink. While he was gone I said to myself that if it was agreeable
to him I would go into the tent and bunk with him until morning. I went up to the opening and projected
my head into the darkness, but only for a second, for I was met by the barking of many dogs and the very
apparent dissent of about a dozen squaws, I thought, at my intrusion, and I withdrew and pressed the
question no further. My friend, the seven-footer, came out and we went to the creek and I drank my fill. |
| The Silent Indian. |
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| By signs I then asked him if he had seen the soldiers, indicating
them by saying they had stripes down the sides of their trousers. But he shook his head; several questions
were answered the same way. He understood all my signs, but the only word he understood was "Pryor,"
and when I asked him the way there he took me out behind the tent to a path and indicated that it was
about three miles to the agency and bade me farewell. Early in the morning I took up another hole in my
belt for breakfast. |
| Out of the Wilderness. |
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| I followed his trail till it began to get light and I thought I had gone
three miles when I saw to my right across a creek several teepees which I took for the camp of the soldiers.
I did not go much further till I heard in the dim twilight the hoofs of a horse galloping down from my left, and
in a moment an Indian police had ridden up in front of me and stood in my path. I asked him if he had seen
the soldiers and he told me that he had, that they were at the agency about three-quarters of a mile ahead.
I asked him if he did not want to ride down that way and he said he would. He could speak English all right.
He asked me to wait, and he then rode down towards the tents I had seen, and from across the creek had
made some report at headquarters in his native tongue and he then returned.
We walked along a half hour or so and came in sight of the agency and camp when he turned and bade
me good-bye.
I walked into camp about 6:15, 29 hours out without sleep or a bit to eat. Finding the cook preparing
breakfast, I tossed my bird, which I had carried all that time, till I had almost disjointed his neck and legs,
down with the other meat, and I asked him where my lunch of the day before was. He pointed to the mess
chest, where were two grouse, well cooked but cold, and after reporting to Captain Ahern in his tent and
taking a smile [?] with him, which reduced the parched feeling in my throat, I fell to devouring the birds. |
| Still on the March. |
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| I then went to my tent and to bed, thinking that no change of
programme had been made, but on inquiry of the captain was advised that they had decided to move
a few miles. Accordingly, in about half an hour I got up, reported to Colonel Daggett and all had a good
laugh at my expense. I told him I would like to be assigned to the ambulance that day, in which I made a
bed in the bottom and slept pretty well over a very rocky road, and when camp was pitched I went to bed
and slept again and then some. We then moved down Pryor creek about 20 miles to a point opposite
Billings, where I bade Colonel Daggett and command farewell, and Captain Ahern and I rode into Billings,
where I took the train for home. |
| Two Distinguished Officers. |
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| The next year Captain Ahern on the braking out of the Spanish war
was assigned to the recruiting service, and while he chafed a little to be assigned to more active service, in
Helena he mustered into the service the First Montana volunteer infantry, the first regiment in all the United
States to respond to the call of their country, and which covered itself and its state with glory during a year
of service in the Philippines. Captain Ahern also saw active service and went to the Philippines, and when
the war was closed he was left there, in charge of the valuable forests of those islands, and he is still there.
A few years later I heard of my old friend, Colonel Daggett.
During the Boxer movement in China, and when all the ministers were prisoners in their legations in Peking,
it was the American army which led the allied forces of all the foreign armies to their relief, and among the
first to scale the walls of that capital was my friend and that good Christian soldier, Col. A. S. Daggett. |
| — Anaconda Standard 16 August 1908 |
|
