For three years after the Battle of Sand Creek, the settlers of El Paso County, Colorado, had lived with little fear of Indian attack. The Cheyenne and Arapaho had raided settlements in Kansas and Nebraska, but Colorado had remained comparatively quiet. That changed in August 1868, when the government, persuaded by Indian agents, supplied the Cheyenne and Arapaho with arms and ammunition. The tribes had agreed to cease hostilities against white settlers in exchange for provisions, but within weeks of receiving the weapons, they broke the agreement and began killing settlers on their Colorado ranches, mutilating their bodies.

These events became known as the Indian War of 1868. In the spring of 1867, agents of the Indian Bureau had attempted to negotiate a new treaty with the Cheyenne and Arapaho at their camp on Pawnee Fork near Fort Larned, Kansas. Spring was not the season for treaty-making, and after the Indians failed to keep several council appointments, they vanished and were next heard of raiding frontier settlements in Kansas and Nebraska and attacking the lines of travel between Colorado and the Missouri River. After five or six months of killing and robbing, the tribes returned professing penitence.

Following the usual custom, a new treaty was made. Both tribes agreed to give up their lands in Colorado and settle on a reservation elsewhere. They promised not to molest any coach or wagon, not to carry off any white woman or child, and not to kill or scalp any white man. In return, they were to receive twenty thousand dollars annually, a suit of clothes for each Indian, and teachers, physicians, farmers, and implements to help them adopt the habits of civilization.

Though not expressly stated in the treaty, it was understood that the Indians would also be supplied with arms and ammunition. The agents of the Indian Bureau entered into the agreement with every appearance of good faith, though anyone familiar with the facts must have known that the Indians’ promises to remain peaceable were worthless. The Indians remained quiet through the winter, but in the spring they demanded the promised arms and ammunition. The agents urged the bureau to grant the request, pleading that the Indians would starve without them, as they needed the weapons to hunt buffalo and other game.

The government hesitated but finally authorized the issue. Major Edward W. Wynkoop, who had become an enemy of the people of Colorado after the Battle of Sand Creek, had by this time been appointed an Indian agent. He was among those urging that arms be given to the Indians, and it was he who delivered them.

On August 10, 1868, he wrote to the department: “I yesterday made the whole issue of annuity goods, arms, and ammunition to the Cheyenne chiefs and people of their nation. They were delighted in receiving the goods, particularly the arms and ammunition, and never before have I known them to be better satisfied. ” He added that the Indians had left for their hunting grounds and that he was perfectly satisfied there would be no trouble that season. On the very day Wynkoop sent that letter, a body of two hundred and fifty Cheyenne, Arapaho, and Sioux were raiding the settlements on the Saline River in Kansas, killing settlers, burning buildings, and committing unspeakable outrages on women.

Before the end of the month, according to General Sheridan’s report, forty white men had been killed on the frontiers of Kansas and Colorado, many more wounded, and a large amount of property destroyed. About ten days after Wynkoop’s letter, a party of seventy-five Cheyenne and Arapaho, all well mounted, rode up through Colorado City. Most carried modern guns and were well supplied with ammunition, presumably issued by the government. They bore letters from Indian agents and peace commissioners stating that they were peaceably disposed and should not be feared or molested.

The settlers, unsatisfied, telegraphed the governor at Denver, who replied that the Indians were not hostile and must not be interfered with. The Indians were sullen and suspicious during their visit, but left without committing any overt acts, apparently heading up Ute Pass into the mountains to fight the Utes, which they claimed was their intention. A day or two later, they surprised a small band of Utes camped a few miles south of the Hartzell Ranch in South Park, killing several and carrying off a small boy. Samuel Hartzell, owner of the ranch, was on the mountains looking for wild raspberries when he saw the horsemen below and concluded they were Utes, with whom he had long been friendly.

He rode down to meet them, but as he drew near, he realized by their dress and appearance that they were Cheyenne and Arapaho warriors. It was too late to retreat. The Indians surrounded him. They were not yet ready to begin hostilities and showed him their certificates from Indian agents as proof of their peaceful character, but they took his revolver, ammunition, and pocketknife.

They told him of their victory over the Utes and showed him the scalps they had taken and the boy they had captured. After keeping Hartzell in suspense for more than three hours, they let him go unharmed and departed eastward toward Colorado City. The settlers remained alarmed. Knowing the treacherous nature of the Indians, they kept a sharp lookout.

About eleven in the morning, three or four days after the Indians disappeared up Ute Pass, three Indians appeared at the Teachout Ranch on Monument Creek, eight miles northeast of Colorado City. They claimed to be friendly Utes, but Teachout, familiar with the tribes of the region, knew they were not. After staying a few minutes, during which they seemed intent on studying the surroundings, especially the corral where Teachout’s large herd of horses was kept at night, they left. Teachout and his brother owned about one hundred and fifty horses, all kept at this ranch.

Alarmed, Teachout rounded up the horses and kept them in the corral during the day, letting them out to graze only at night. A day or two later, the Indians were heard of raiding the frontier settlements east of Bijou Basin and on the headwaters of Kiowa, Bijou, and Running Creeks, killing several people and running off stock. On August 27, 1868, the Cheyenne and Arapaho killed Mrs. Henrietta Deiderman and her five-year-old son on Comanche Creek, about twenty-five miles northeast of Colorado City, in a peculiarly atrocious manner.

The household consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Deiderman, a twelve-year-old daughter, a five-year-old son, Mr. Deiderman’s sister, and a hired man.

The sister was soon to marry the hired man, and he and Mr. Deiderman had gone to Denver to buy furniture, leaving a German farmhand temporarily in charge. That morning, something alarmed Mrs. Deiderman.

She hurriedly started with her sister-in-law and the two children toward a neighbor’s house. After going a few hundred yards, she remembered she had left a considerable sum of money in the house, and with her small son, went back to get it. They reached the house, retrieved the money, and started away again, but had gone only a short distance when the Indians overtook them and shot both dead. The Indians shot the boy repeatedly and finally broke his neck.

The mother was shot through the body, stabbed, and scalped. Both bodies were dreadfully mutilated. Those who saw the victims said it was one of the most horrible sights they had ever looked upon. Meanwhile, the sister-in-law and daughter ran to where the German was working in the field.

He stood the Indians off by pointing the handle of his hoe at them, making them believe it was a gun, and covered the retreat of himself and the others to a neighbor’s house. The tragedy created a great sensation not only in that country but in Denver and throughout the entire state. News of the killings reached Colorado City late in the evening, a day or two afterward. Messengers were sent throughout the county warning of the great danger.

One family, awakened from sleep about eleven at night, hitched up their team, loaded a few necessary articles into a wagon, and started for town three miles away. The night was dark, making the trip both weird and anxious. With the sisters and younger brothers in the wagon, the father and the narrator marched behind, rifles in hand, knowing the Indians might already have stolen into the region. They reached town in safety.

The incident gave one the fullest appreciation of the disagreeable and dangerous features of frontier life. Early in the morning of September 1, Teachout, accompanied by his hired man, went out to bring in his herd, as had been his custom since the visit of the three Indians. They went down Monument Creek a mile or two, then up Cottonwood Creek, where they found the herd scattered in the valley. As they rode through the herd, they saw a half-dozen mounted Indians come over the hill to the north and dash at full speed toward the horses.

Soon there were at least twenty-five in the band. In a short time, the Indians had rounded up most of the horses and were driving them up the creek at furious speed. They passed Teachout, who was on the other side of the creek, expecting every minute to be attacked. Neither he nor his hired man had guns, but because they did not run, the Indians evidently thought they were armed and kept their distance.

As they went by, one Indian who could speak English yelled, “Damn you, we are going to take your horses. ”

Teachout saw that the Indians had missed a bunch of fifteen to twenty colts grazing off to one side, and he and his hired man started after them, hoping to save part of the herd. The Indians discovered what they were after and started in pursuit, firing as they went. There was nothing left for Teachout and his man but to ride for their lives and get back to the ranch as quickly as possible, which they did.

The Indians rounded up the colts and disappeared eastward with the entire herd. Upon reaching home, Teachout sent a messenger to his brother on the Divide, asking him to gather as large an armed force as possible to follow the Indians and recover the horses. The brother acted promptly. That evening, a party of twenty-eight, made up of Dave and Bale Simpson, Jim Sims, Wild Bill, and others, started in pursuit.

They camped that night at a ranch about three miles southeast of Sier Husted’s sawmill, where they were joined by Mr. Davis and Job Talbert, a brother-in-law of Mr. Houston. These two men had expected to get horses and arms at the ranch, but failing in that, they started back to the mill the following morning.

They had gone only a short distance when the Indians overtook them, killed and scalped both, leaving their mutilated bodies in the road. The Simpson party soon found the trail of the captured herd and followed it rapidly along the south side of the Pinery, then eastward across Squirrel Creek and down the Big Sandy to the mouth of a creek coming in from the north. The size of the herd made the trail plain and easy to follow. So far, no Indians had been seen, and the indications were that the Indians with the stolen horses were so far ahead that further pursuit was useless.

Instead of returning directly home, they decided to follow up the creek and scout the country east of Bijou Basin. A few miles up the creek, they came to a deserted ranch. The house was open and had been thoroughly ransacked. After considerable search, the owner’s dead body was found some distance away.

He had been killed and scalped, and his body horribly mutilated. After burying the body, the party continued north until they reached the old Smoky Hill Road, where they met a party of eighteen men from the country north of Bijou Basin. It was decided to combine the two forces for further scouting. A short distance from their camp that night, they found and buried the bodies of two men killed by the Indians a day or two before.

The combined parties camped together, and the following morning started toward Bijou Basin. No Indians had been seen, and it seemed probable they had returned to their villages on the plains. Under this impression, the men marched rather carelessly, strung out over the prairie. Early in the afternoon, the party of eighteen decided there was nothing further to accomplish and left the Simpson party, starting off northwesterly toward their homes.

Hardly were they out of sight when two of Simpson’s men, some distance ahead of the main party, saw a few Indians on a hill not far off. The party closed up in double-quick time. Other Indians appeared until they greatly outnumbered the Simpson party. It became imperative to find a place for defense without delay.

The most favorable position in sight was the extreme point of a short, isolated ridge, where the ground dropped off abruptly on three sides. The men rushed to this point, formed a circle, and began throwing up temporary entrenchments with butcher knives and whatever implements they had at hand. By this time, the Indians, under cover of a ridge to the south, had opened a sharp fire. Bullets whizzed around, and in a few minutes several horses were wounded.

Many of the Indians’ shots struck the ground some distance away. The whites returned fire at every opportunity and had reason to believe their shots had been effective in several instances. Before darkness came, a number of Simpson’s men had been wounded and several horses killed. It became increasingly a question whether the party could withstand a vigorous charge.

Night coming on, the firing slackened, and the men gave some consideration to their situation. Neither their location nor their resources were favorable for a long siege. Help must be obtained as soon as possible. Among the party was a daredevil known as Wild Bill.

He volunteered to take the fastest horse and, in the darkness, break through the Indian line, which now completely surrounded the hill. If successful, he was to hurry to the settlements at Bijou Basin, fifteen miles away, and bring back reinforcements. The suggestion met with everyone’s approval. About nine o’clock, Wild Bill, mounted on Dave Simpson’s racehorse, stole out from the entrenchments and quietly rode away.

The night being moderately dark, he succeeded in getting some distance before he was discovered. He then put spurs to his horse and dashed away at the animal’s best speed, the Indians shooting at him as they ran. Fortunately, neither he nor the horse was hit, and in a short time he had left the Indians far behind. He reached Bijou Basin, where arrangements were made to dispatch couriers to Colorado City and elsewhere for reinforcements.

Meanwhile, those surrounded on the hill heard the shots and knew Wild Bill had been discovered and pursued, but had no way of knowing whether he had escaped. Soon after, the firing gradually slackened and finally stopped altogether. When daylight came, there were no Indians in sight. The besieged men realized this might be only a ruse, but being entirely without water for themselves and their horses, they determined to make a dash and take a chance of reaching the settlements.

They started at once and, without further molestation, reached Holden’s Ranch in Bijou Basin before noon. None of the party had been killed and no one seriously wounded, probably because of the poor ammunition issued to the Indians by the government. Wild Bill’s ride through the Indian lines had driven the Indians away. By morning, they were gone.

Wynkoop had been wrong in his certainty that the Cheyenne and Arapaho would use their weapons only for hunting. Shortly after the treaty was made, the Indians committed several murders in Colorado, likely with the same ammunition Wynkoop had given them. The promise of peace had lasted barely a season, and the settlers of the frontier had paid the price.