forked tongue of flame, shot from the black cloud that was now rapidly overspreading the heavens. This flash of fire was followed by a frightful peal of thunder, and repeated flashes and peals followed them in quick succession, and dense blackness lowered threateningly over us, almost shutting out the heights beyond, and seeming to encircle us like prisoners in the valley that lay at their base.
The vivid flashes that lit this darkness for an instant
only caused the gloom to seem more fearful, while the heavy rolling of the thunder seemed to rend the heavens above us. Suddenly the cloud burst upon our unprotected heads in rain. But such rain! not the gentle droppings of an afternoon shower, nor the pattering of a commonplace storm, but a sweeping avalanche of water that drenched everything at the first dash, and, continuing to pour, seemed to threaten the earth, and tempt the mighty river to rise and claim it for its own.
The wagons had been uncovered, that they might be transported with convenience; consequently there were no shelters from the storm, and its fury was exhausted upon us; and while it continued to pour, we were compelled to endure its violence, but awaited in resignation the wrath of the elements, and endeav- ored to cherish a hope of a bright to-morrow—in which we were not disappointed, for as the sun rose above the hills, smiling upon the world as if nothing unusual had occurred, and kindly kissed the lingering drops from the blades of grass, we were winding our way among the hills.
CHAPTER II.
JULESBURG—THE EPHEMERAL EXISTENCE OF A CITY—A
STORY OF AN INDIAN CHIEF.
ABOUT twenty miles above the Old California Crossing of the South Platte, the town of Jules- burg stood, upon the south bank of the river. This town took its name from a French pioneer, Jules Benard, who built a cabin of sods close by the river, and lived a hermit's life, subsisting upon the fish he could procure from the river, and game that he was able to shoot upon the hills.
It was said his early years had been darkened by misfortune, when he left his home in the East and sought a solace in isolation.
He was described as a kind, honorable old man. When increasing travel on the road to the mountains and Pacific coast enabled him to dispose of his sup- plies of game and furs, he dealt honorably by emi-
grants, winning their confidence and esteem, and finally
held a position of trust with the overland stage com- pany.
The dreadful mode of his death being the conse- quence of his refusing to league himself with crime and cruelty, renders it proper that his fate be held in remembrance by posterity.
A desperado, named Slade, who afterward distin- guished himself as a bandit in the Rocky Mountains,
23
24 THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE;
and was executed by a vigilance committee in Vir- ginia City, Montana, in 1863, made a haunt for crime in the vicinity of Jules' home. His house soon became a scene of robbery and theft, and against such out- rages Jules protested, positively refusing to become a party or accomplice in it. For this courageous resist- ance the old man lost his life.
With a fiendish barbarity that no Indian can outdo, Slade, with a party of his comrades, went to the her- mit's house in the night, and, finding him unsuspect- ing and unarmed, bound him with strong cords, and commenced to mutilate his body—first cutting off his nose, then his fingers, toes, and ears—and continued to disjoint him until death mercifully rescued him from their demon hands.
The town that bore his name has been destined, like
its founder, to suffer great changes. In February, 1865, it was burned by Indians, commanded by a noted warrior called Little Dog. An effort was made by our soldiers, who were stationed in a camp near Julesburg, to repulse the enemy and protect the place, but they were unsuccessful, and twenty-five soldiers were killed. Fort Sedgwick was soon afterward erected near its ruins, and the subsequent year a town was built four miles to the east, near the Nebraska line, and named Julesburg. The growth of this town, however, was not flourishing, for the Great Pacific Railroad caused another town to be suggested, which was also called Julesburg. This town was destined to become quite a prodigy in growth and wickedness.
Within the short space of six weeks it sprang into
OR, LIFE AMONG THE SIOUX. 25
existence, and covered an area of three hundred acres. Of twelve hundred houses, nine hundred were saloons. Over the streets, that had scarcely ceased to be paths in the wilderness, Government trains passed, bound for distant frontier forts. Railway employes, with long lines of wagons containing implements and neces- saries for the great work going on farther west; ox- trains, en route for the gold regions, transporting mer- chandise; drivers flourishing long whips, and shouting with all the force of their powerful lungs—kept up a varying procession; and the vile exhilarant called whisky was freely used, and aided much in causing the wild excitement.
Denver, when in its greatest excitement, did not equal the progress of this place. A person unac- customed to western phenomena cannot realize the confusion that prevailed.
The majority of the nine hundred saloons were devoted to gambling, and most of the known games on the earth were played there. Every device by which money could be lost or squandered was rife, and recklessness and prodigality reigned.
There was no law, not even a respectable vigilance committee; and being out of the pale of recognized
authority, except the military, which seemed to ear and
tremble, terrible encounters with bowie-knives and other formidable weapons were frequent, and all the men carried firearms to defend themselves in case of an attack. Fancied insults were often atoned for with blood, and tragedies were daily events. Fortunes
26 THE CAPTURE AND ESCAPE;
were lost at a single sitting at the gambling table; temptation led men away, in the flush of sudden suc- cess, to renewed recklessness, while despair seized others and hurried them to crime.
In the midst of these frightful excesses a corrupt power was born, and added despotism to confusion. A band of desperate-minded men proclaimed them- selves law-abiding citizens, and proceeded to form a code of laws for the benefit of the city government, and organized a bogus court to dispense justice, or, properly, injustice.
A grievous tax was levied, and, in many instances, collected by coercion, and a license was required on all business and labor, no exceptions being made in favor of even the few poor laboring women, some of whom, alas! were, by this unreasonable taxation, driven to desperation.
Drugged liquors were given to teamsters and others
whose wages were sufficiently tempting to excite the cupidity of some of these desperadoes; they were then
arrested for drunkenness or some other crime, and hur-
ried to prison, and there robbed of their hard-earned money, and, in some cases, beaten and threatened with
violence if they revealed the facts, or even entered the town after being released from prison.
But, notwithstanding, men generally followed the inclinations of their own hearts, and the boldest took, as it were, their lives in their hands, and bravely dared
consequences.
A theatre was established, where a motley audience,
OR, LIFE AMONG THE SIOUX. 27
dressed in every conceivable fashion, and of every grade
of character but the pure, came together nightly to wit-
ness melodramas no less startling than their own lives.
If ever the preaching of the gospel might claim a field rife in iniquity, since the days when the great Baptist cried from the wilderness of Judea, "Repent