Identifier: scoutrangerbeing00pike (find matches)
Title: The scout and ranger: being the personal adventures of Corporal Pike, of the Fourth Ohio cavalry. As a Texan ranger, in the Indian wars, delineating western adventure; afterwards a scout and spy, in Tennessee, Alabama, Georgia, and the Carolinas, under General Mitchell, Rosecrans, Stanley, Sheridan, Lytle, Thomas, Crook, and Sherman. Fully illustrating the secret service. Twenty-five full-page engravings
Year: 1865 (1860s)
Authors: Pike, James, 1834-1867
Subjects: Texas Rangers Indians of North America -- Wars 1815-1875 United States -- History Civil War, 1861-1865 Scouts and scouting United States -- History Civil War, 1861-1865 Personal narratives
Publisher: Cincinnati, New York, J.R. Hawley & co.
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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h so high. Imagine my situation and feelingson making the discovery! A hundred and ten miles from myplace of destination, without a bite to eat, and Indians so thickaround me that I dare not fire a shot, lest I should attract to meone or more of the straggling bands infesting the country! Butthere was nothing to be gained by vain regrets, though muchtime might be lost in that way. The contemptible villains thathad robbed me, were, doubtless, at that moment stretched outin some secluded spot taking a comfortable snooze, or felicitat-ing themselves upon the successful termination of their enter-prise, and the adroit manner in which it had been executed.The more I studied over it, the madder I got; so I rode off, pon-derinrf on numerous schemes of revenue. I resolved to hold thewhole community responsible for the acts of the individual, andhave ever since took a great amount of solid pleasure in killinga wolf. I was a day and a night getting to Camp Colorado, where I N CD O <-t esTO a
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SANTA annas PEAK. 73 called upon Lieut. Lee, and related my misfortune. He consoledme with a hearty meal and I rode on. He also tendered mymustang a feed of corn, but the pony, not being used to suchcoarse diet, refused it in disgust. I had yet tAventy-eight milesto ride before I reached Home creek, Avhere it was supposed Iwould find Burleson. The route was easily found to the cross-ing of the creek, but when once there which way to turn I didnot know. About eleven miles from Camp Colorado, I came to a con-siderable mountain, called Santa Annas peak. Staking my ponyso that he could graze, I climbed to the summit to take a view ofthe surrounding country, and see if I could discover smoke indi-cating a camp. From this point I had a full view of Homecreek, from its source to a point nearly as far down as its mouthon the Pecan bayou. While leisurely surveying the landscapebefore me, I was startled by a slight sound, like the breaking ofa twig. Knowing that I stood upon dangerous ground, I

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