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

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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

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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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until October 21, when they turned up the left fork of the river. A little later the small band was struggling through Raton pass where for several days it labored at removing great boulders which blocked the Pass to the wagons and horses. Finally it got across and descended to the plateaus on the other side, reaching the turbulent Canadian River, and on November 12, Rock River. The following day Becknel1's party sighted a small band of horsemen who turned out to be a body of Mexican troops. Immediately they prepared for battle but were pleasantly surprised when they discovered the Mexicans were a friendly band who encouraged them to continue on to Santa Fe. Towns became more and more frequent in the path of Becknel1's men until finally on November 16, 1821, they entered the town of Santa Fe. Here they sold their limited stock of goods at very profitable prices. Early in December, with well filled money bags, they began their homeward trek. Seventeen days later they were back on the Arkansas and in thirty-one days after this they were home again. Never before had the people heard such tales of the unsettled wilderness. One of the men severed the thongs on his money bag. Large silver coins rolled out of the bag and into the street. The people saw these coins, not only as coins, however, but also as wheels rolling, rolling toward the West where riches, land, and new trade were to be found and possessed. On May 22, 1822, a year after the first expedition Becknell and a party of twenty-one left Arrow Rock on a second journey. This time they followed the former route to a point about Hve miles west of Dodge City. Here they left the Arkansas River route, striking off to the southwest across the Cimarron Desert, Although this route was somewhat shorter, the journey proved to be much more hazardous than the previous one. After days of suffering and hardship, Becknell and his followers reached Rock River where they joined the earlier trail and soon reached Santa Fe safely. Becknell had opened the trail which numerous others followed, some to riches, many to oblivion, and hundreds to their deaths! But all contributed to make a wilderness road which will live in the minds of our people as long as our country exists. The Santa Fe Trail is but a thread in this vast thundering loom on which history is being woven. Yet, there it shines, if we look closely, like a streak of light in a past of unsettled darkness. nur' L i Ji 1 Jack Hai:-Icy N , Twenty-eight