Southwest High School - Sachem Yearbook (Kansas City, MO)

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CARAVAN S AND INDIANS By GLADYS MANEWAL Grandpa, you'll tell us a story won't you? begged two eager boys who were stalling for time. Now, don't you do anything of the sort, Father, rebuked their mother, They're going to bed this very minute and arguing will do no good! Oh, said grandfather, who took the side of the boys in his desire to repeat this story of his cross-country trip which practically everyone knew by heart, just this once, and then they'll go right to bed. Nothing can be done when three are against one. So mother just sat down eager to hear the old story herself, but reluctant to admit it. Well, it was many years ago that I ventured into the West, inhabited then only by fierce tribes of Indians and herds of buffalo. There seemed to be no end of work before setting out-supplies sufficient for four hundred miles were secured, firearms were thoroughly repaired, bullets were moulded, powder horns and cap boxes were filled, and all else was done to prepare us for this journey. So on an early brisk spring morning, we set out from Fort Leaven- worth with shouts of joy and tears of farewell. During the first miles from the fort to Council Grove, the journey was monotonous and without excitement. Here, at Council Grove, the caravans divided and organized. We selected a leader or 'Captain of the Caravan' to direct the order of travel during the day and to designate the camping ground at night. Gur captain was a grand fellow, sturdier and braver than any other pioneer I've ever known. Each division chose a lieutenant to inspect every ravine and creek on the Santa Fe trail, to select the best crossings, and to superin- tend the forming of encampments. From here on we dared not relax our vigilance for a single moment, for we were constantly in danger. 'AAlthough we began each day's journey before sun-up and traveled 'til night, we covered only ten to fifteen miles a day. Our nights were of deathlike terror, fearing that the Indians would sight us and attack. We arranged the wagons to form a hollow circle which constituted both an enclosure for the animals and a fortification against the Indians. i'When did the war-whoopers come? interrupted the eager boys. 'Alt was late one night when we had just retired that Indians' cries pierced the dead-stillness of the night. 'Comanchesl Arabs of the plains! Everyone to his postl' cried our captain. The war-yells came nearer and before we knew it they were upon us-circling and shooting as if we were animals. Shortly afterward everything was still. Death and sorrow reigned in our camp. The next morning we dug graves and made crude crosses for nearly half ofgour former number. It was near noon before we were able to continue our journey. Not long after this Indian attack, we encountered the Pawnees. Unlike the Comanches, these savages at this time cared not for blood, but rather for trinkets and nick-nacks. I well recall how one Indian wrenched from the captain's daughter a precious locket containing the only picture of her mother. At the end of their heartless raid, we scarcely had sufficient supplies to live. A'The weeks that followed were filled with one trial after another. Regions of quagmire delayed us for days because it was diflicult to extricate animals and wagons that sank deep into the mud. Our food supply became so low that we were forced to kill oxen for food. For two days we traveled with scarcely a bite to eat. Finally we thought we saw a herd of buffalo, but we were afraid to admit it for fear the desert was merely playing another trick on us. But our prayers were not in vain. The next day we distinctly saw the buffalo a little distance ahead. After a great feast and much rejoicing, we then continued. Twenty-six

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ii the structure. Pike informed them that he planned to go down the river to Natchitoches, which was neither on the Red River nor the Rio Grande. Ten days later, two French trappers rode up to Pike's fort and reported the advance of a Spanish force. Pike willingly opened his gate and surrendered to Don Fernandiz. lt was then that Pike really found out he was on the Rio Grande River. The Spanish brought Pike and his company into Santa Fe in triumph and sent a rescue party for his men in the mountains. Pike was questioned by Governor Alencaster as to Robinson's relationship to the company. Robinson had been captured and had pleaded that he was with Pike's troop. This, Pike readily denied. The governor had Pike's trunk. examined, but he found nothing of any consequence since Pike had already distributed his important papers among his men. Immediately after the inspection, however, Pike collected these docu- ments and replaced them in his own trunk for safe keeping. Alencaster became more friendly and assured Pike that he was not a prisoner of war, although he would have to go before General Salcedo, commandant at Chilhuahua. The next few days, the troop amused the natives by answering their numerous questions, They wanted to know what kind of houses the members lived in, and whether the people in the United States wore hats or not, since Pike and his men had entered the city hatless. The party was accompanied part of the way to Chilhuahua by their captor, Don Fernandiz, who became a good friend of Pike. They proceeded to Santo Domingo, down the Rio Grande Valley to San Felipe, and here were enter- tained with an elaborate concert. At Albuquerque, entertainment and feasting awaited them. Near Atrisco, Pike encountered Melgares, who, instead of treating him as an enemy, was jovial and friendly. He even provided enter- tainment for them at San Fernandez. - Finally, arriving at Chilhuahua, Pike's troop received a cordial welcome from General Salcedo, who, after relieving Pike of his valued documents, which he had so cleverly concealed from Alencaster, sent the little expedition once more on its way back to the United States by the Texas route. The American Fort at Natchitoches was reached on July l, 1807-a year after the colorful journey was begun, Consequently, through Pike's adventur- ous spirit, new lands were opened to the pioneers, and a footpath was provided for those who later traversed the great Santa Fe Trail! THE STARS By VALERIE HORAN Tonight I looked into the sky To see what I could see, Ana' there I saw a million stars, All looking down at me. So then I looked into a pool To see what I could see, And do you know, I saw more stars, All looking up at me. Twenty-Hue

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F . The small streams which we had to cross were even more dangerous than larger ones. I remember a small creek that had an exceedingly steep bank and a very miry bed caused us not only great difficulties but also took the life of a fellow pioneer. During the building of a temporary bridge, one of the men stepped into a bed of quick-sand and was gradually pulled beneath the surface of the water. This was the most gruesome death that l have ever wit- nessed. To see a man gradually go to his death and to be unable to help him is horrible. After staggering through a sand storm and encountering several other hardships similar to those l have already mentioned, we finally reached our destination. Considering the losses and suffering, sometimes l wonder if it was worth the effort. I guess it was. We helped found the Santa Fe Trail to the Golden West. Will you boys never grow tired of hearing the story of your forefathers? their mother inquired. The question remained unanswered for the two boys had fallen fast asleep, dreaming of the war-whoopers. THE FOUNDING OF THE TRAIL By B03 YYVJLF On the vast loom on which America's hi tory is being woven many great deeds are being worked into the fabric. As we gaze upon this intricate pattern our eyes encounter many valiant deeds. Some vivid, some rather dull, but without a doubt each bit of color and each strand of thread has its place in the pattern which is being spun as time weaves countless events into the design. Picturesque in the weaving of the colorful history of the western frontier are the exploits of Captain William Becknell, known as The Father of the Santa Fe Trail. True, the trail claims many parents: the Indians, nomads of the Great Plains, the Conquistadores, the Spanish, French, and Yankee trappers and traders. Apparently Captain Becknell did not actually discover the route though it is possible that he was the first trader to cross the treacherous desert of the Cimarron. It is certain that his wagons were the first to cross the conti- nent to Santa Fe. His fame can be traced to many sources but most eminent is the fact that once he opened the trail it remained open, The ruts left by the wheels of his crude wagons were followed and deepened by the western surge of travel which struggled in his wake: followed today by motor vehicles which travel over smooth highways, penetrating straight as an arrow, into the heart of the Southwest. Becknell was a dreamer who realized his dreams, But never in those vivid moments did he visualize the results of his trip into the wilderness which began on the first day of September, l82l, when he and his small party set out from Arrow Rock, near Franklin, Missouri. Little did he imagine that these plains- men, bent on an expedition for trading with the Indian tribes near the Rockies, would find their way to the town of Santa Fe. His route from Arrow Rock followed the main line of the trail, through Osage City and along the Arkansas River. Undaunted by the hardships which they encountered frequently, the party followed the main branch of the Arkansas Twen ty-se uen