On the day of the departure of Hauser and myself for Salt Lake City, as described in the preceding chapter, an episode occurred affecting Colonel Sanders, which illustrates in some degree the condition of society at that time.

During the day a number of young men of Bannack City, all known in the town, and some living there, saddled their horses and rode from saloon to saloon, indulging in drink, and otherwise busying themselves until about three o’clock P.M. Among these was Plummer.

Vague rumors had been extant for some time, that there were in this portion of Idaho (now Montana), quartz lodes of silver; but none up to this time had been discovered, or, if discovered, the fact had not been made known publicly. A number of quartz lodes of gold of very considerable value had been recorded, but they were considered in the popular mind as of secondary value. The “Comstock Lode” was at this time pouring forth its treasures; silver had not fallen under the ban which subsequently environed it, and there was a great eagerness on the part of miners and other citizens to acquire interests in silver mines.

It was apparent that the horsemen on the streets were making ready for some journey into the country, and it took but a moment to arouse suspicion that they knew where these reported silver mines were, and were going out to organize a mining district, and record the claims.

Col. Samuel McLean, the first delegate in Congress from Montana, who had an eager eye for mines, and an equally eager desire to obtain them, told Colonel Sanders that unquestionably the hope of these men was to record the silver mines already discovered, and was quite anxious that he should accompany the party.

In response to this request, Colonel Sanders volunteered to ascertain whether this was the errand of this party or not, and at once proceeded to find Plummer, and interrogate him as to his destination.

Plummer professed to be on some errand for the public good—rescuing a herd of horses belonging to citizens, from Indian thieves, who, he said, would certainly make way with them, unless they were at once taken charge of by himself.

Colonel Sanders was incredulous as to this story, and so expressed himself to Mr. Plummer, saying that he was satisfied that the party were going to the new silver mines, with the purpose of staking them off and recording them. Plummer denied any such destination, or, at least, said if that was the intention of his colleagues, he had no knowledge of it, and that if such should turn out to be the case, contrary to his expectations, he would cheerfully secure for Colonel Sanders a claim. To this it was replied that his party might object to his securing a claim for an absentee, and the colonel expressed a purpose to accompany the party. Plummer cordially invited him to do so, probably knowing that there was not a horse in any of the stables in town that was obtainable for such a journey; but suddenly reflecting upon the matter, he replied that there was no such errand in view, and if his comrades objected to his obtaining a claim for Colonel Sanders because he was an absentee, he would very cheerfully convey his own to him, saying that he could obtain quartz lode claims whenever he so desired.

With this understanding, which Colonel Sanders sought to impress upon his mind so that he would not forget it, the party, in knots of two and four, left the town in an easterly direction towards the point where Plummer had stated they were going that evening, which was about fifteen miles distant, and where he said they would remain over-night at the ranche of Parish, Bunton and Co., on Rattlesnake Creek, and the next morning would proceed to obtain the horses that were in such danger of being stolen.

This ranche was perhaps the best known of any in the Beaverhead country at this time. Plummer himself had denounced its proprietors as cattle thieves, and had threatened to have them arrested for that high crime, but had never done so. At this particular time the senior member of the firm was sick with fever, and it was thought that he could not long survive.

The morning coach which had brought Plummer and the other passengers from Virginia City, had also brought one Dr. Palmer, a medical practitioner at Virginia City, who had been sent for to attend Mr. Parish.

The wife of Parish was a Bannack squaw; and Plummer had stated that he had examined Parish when at his ranche in the morning, and had concluded that he could not survive more than a day or two, and that, the instant he died, his wife would take all the horses belonging to parties for whom Parish, Bunton and Co. were keeping them, and would join her tribe on the west of the mountains near Fort Lemhi; and in order to save these horses for the owners, it was necessary that the sheriff should proceed to take them on general principles, and without any writ for that purpose.

Never doubting but that Plummer was relating the truth, the people of Bannack saw his party quietly climb the eastern hill, and disappear over one of its declivities. A single member, delayed from some cause or other, lingered behind in the town.

After the party had left town, several gentlemen suggested to Colonel Sanders that he should endeavor to overtake them, and volunteered to furnish a horse and saddle if he would do so, with a view to obtaining for himself and themselves, if possible, some interest in the silver quartz mines which they believed would the next morning be staked off and recorded.

Colonel Sanders proceeded to his house, took the inevitable accompaniments of a traveller, his blankets, robes, revolvers, etc., and returned to the town, where a somewhat diminutive mule, saddled and bridled and ready for the fray, was presented to him for his journey. Mounting the animal, he started on the trail of the party, who had one hour or more the start of him, on his way to Rattlesnake ranche, the property of Parish, Bunton and Co.

The mule at times was recalcitrant in the early part of the journey, but finally settled down and jogged along at a mild speed towards his destination.

Tracks of the horsemen were plainly discernible in the road until he reached a point near the summit of the range of mountains between the Grasshopper and Rattlesnake, when they disappeared.

Upon arriving at the top of the hill, as is not unusual on the top of these mountain ranges, a snow storm burst upon the lone traveller, accompanied by a high wind, and in half an hour the disintegrated granite in the road, which was dry, mixed with the snow so as to cause the mule to accumulate on his hoofs large quantities of the dust and snow, to such an extent as to make speed impossible, and travelling very difficult.

The colonel dismounted and drove his mule in front of him, eight miles, to the ranche, where he confidently expected to find a good-natured, hilarious crowd spending the evening. Judge of his surprise, when he entered the room, to find the only person in it was Erastus Yager, whose actual name not one in a thousand knew, but who was universally known as “Red.” He was the Boniface and major-domo of the place.

To the inquiry, “Where is Plummer?” he replied that he was not there, and had not been there; and so, after reflecting a moment, the colonel had his mule put in the corral. He then sat down by the side of a very cheerful fire, made of the dry cottonwood obtainable not far distant, which blazed in a very ample fireplace such as in modern times is practically unknown, beguiling his disappointment as best he could.

Dr. Palmer was already asleep in the room, so the colonel unrolled his blankets, preparatory to making his bed on the floor, whereupon Yager invited him to sleep on the bed, a straw tick filled with swale grass, quite ample in its size, lying upon the floor in front of the fire; and, accepting this hospitable offer, he spread his blankets on the tick, and in a few moments had retired.

William Bunton, one of the proprietors of the establishment, appeared from the back room where his partner lay ill, and retired also upon the straw tick, and shortly after Yager followed suit, when the three, in one bed, were all soon in a sound sleep.

About two hours after they had retired, a boisterous noise was made upon the door by some individual who was outside, who also hallooed as loud as he could for admittance.

Yager got out of bed and proceeded around to the back of the bar where the liquid refreshments, so called, were dispensed, and lighted a candle, and taking in his hands a large shotgun which stood in the corner, started to the door and demanded to know who was there. After some hesitancy, he was told it was “Jack,” whereupon he proceeded to take down the bar that was across the door and so fastened at each end as to effectually serve the purpose of a lock. He then opened the door, and in stalked a member of Plummer’s party, the one who had remained in town behind the rest, and known all over that mining country as “Jack” Gallagher.

He was in very ill-humor. He had been looking for his party, and had been disappointed in not finding them, finally seeking shelter from the storm at the Rattlesnake ranche.

He said the snow had so covered the road that it could not be distinguished. He had been lost on the prairie and finally found the Rattlesnake. He had ridden up and down the valley a number of miles and failed to find the ranche. He complained that they had no light burning.

He said he was very hungry and that he wanted a drink. A bottle was set out for him, and he imbibed pretty freely once or twice. He then wanted something to eat without delay. He was informed that there was nothing to eat in the house, that the lady of the house had all she could do to take care of her husband, who was very ill and who would not probably recover, and that they were not prepared to entertain guests.

He expressed an entire indifference to the misfortunes of the household, and said he must have something to eat if it was no more than some bread, and became so importunate that Yager went to the back part of the house, and soon returned with a large tin pan partially filled with boiled beef. The pan was placed upon the bar, and Gallagher did ample justice to its contents, refreshing himself from time to time by frequent libations from the bottle of whiskey.

He told Yager that he could not stop all night, but must find his party. He thought it would be necessary for him to have a fresh horse, and he wanted to trade a very excellent animal which he had ridden to the ranche for a fresh one.

Yager thereupon told him that he had no horse to trade, but Jack affirmed that he had, and furthermore insisted that he should accommodate him by trading.

Their wrangling had awakened Colonel Sanders, and also Mr. Bunton, who finally called Yager to the bedside and told him to trade off that horse of Oliver’s that was in the corral, if Jack would have a horse trade.

The importunities of Gallagher for a fresh horse were continuous; and finally Yager coyly confessed that they did have a horse in the corral, which was not such a horse as Gallagher wanted, and one that they did not desire to get rid of, being a favorite animal for riding,—not specially desirable for its speed, but for wonderful bottom, able to travel a hundred miles in a day, and after being turned out at night, it would be ready for a like journey the next day. In fact, it was so good a horse that Yager wanted it for his own use, and it was not for sale,—much less did he desire to trade it for as poor a horse as the one Gallagher had ridden there (which in truth was a very noble animal).

After a great deal of negotiating and a good many drinks, Gallagher agreed to pay sixty dollars to boot, and they consummated the trade.

Colonel Sanders had been very much disappointed at not finding the party he was in search of, and having an opportunity at the close of the horse trade, he inquired of Gallagher if he knew where Plummer was. It seemed to him a harmless question, and he did not expect any one would become excited by so simple an inquiry, as he lay on his back on the straw tick.

The instant the question was asked, Gallagher jumped from the bar where he was standing to the side of the bed, and placed his cocked revolver at the colonel’s head, all the while hurling imprecations upon him, and threatening to “shoot the whole top of his head off.”

The result, for the instant, upon the colonel is described by himself as being very peculiar. He said he could count each particular hair in his head, and that it felt like the quill of a porcupine. Not enjoying the situation, he made a quick movement, getting his head out of range of Gallagher’s revolver, and springing to his feet, in an instant was behind the bar, where “Red” was standing. Sanders seized the shotgun which was used by Yager in admitting his guests in the night, and levelled it across the bar directly at Gallagher. The opportunity which had been afforded Gallagher to shoot Sanders had not been improved by him till it was too late; and as soon as the gun was aimed at him, with an air of bravado he placed his revolver on a pine table that stood near him, the normal use of which was card-playing, and pulling aside his blue soldier’s overcoat which he wore, he said, “Shoot.”

Colonel Sanders replied that he had no desire to shoot, but if there were any shooting to be done, he did desire to have the first shot.

At this somewhat exciting stage of the game, Bunton, who had hitherto kept silence, reprimanded the actors in this little drama somewhat severely, saying that his partner was at the point of death in the back room, and he would not have any noise in the house.

Yager also joined in the conversation, and deprecated any such difficulty, saying to Gallagher that he was blamable for having been the cause of the disturbance, Gallagher meanwhile standing with his coat open, as if waiting to be shot down.

Yager continued his suave and conciliatory remarks to Gallagher, and said finally that he thought Jack owed Sanders an apology, and that all had better take a drink.

A double-barrelled shotgun is a powerful factor in an argument; its logic is irresistible and convincing; and under its influence Jack finally relented, and said that he guessed he had made a fool of himself, and invited the colonel, who up to this time had maintained a position of hostility, to have a drink; but, becoming satisfied of the sincerity of Gallagher’s assurances, he placed the shotgun behind the bar, and the entire party joined in a pledge of amity over a bottle of “Valley Tan,” a liquor well known throughout the mountains, and a production of the Mormons of Salt Lake Valley.

Some controversy then arose as to who should pay for the liquor. Yager claimed the privilege, but Gallagher said it was his row, and it should be his treat, and that the man who wouldn’t drink with him was no friend of his. The affair was finally compromised by allowing Gallagher to order another bottle of “Valley Tan,” and the actors in this scene dared fate by taking another drink. This was, doubtless, the easiest method of settling the difficulty and appeasing the wrath of Gallagher; and my readers will doubtless agree with me in thinking that the circumstances of duress which surrounded Sanders ought not to impair his standing as a Son of Temperance.

After this renewed pledge of friendship between all the parties, Yager and Gallagher withdrew to exchange horses, and in a few moments the latter was on the road in pursuit of his comrades. Yager returned to bed, and all at the ranche were soon sound asleep. About two hours thereafter, there was heard another tumultuous rapping at the door, and the voice of somebody, seemingly very angry, demanding admittance. Yager exercised the same precaution as before, with his light and gun, and finally opened the door, when in came Jack Gallagher, with his saddle, bridle, blankets, and shotgun, and threw them all down upon the floor, saying that he had been lost since he left the ranche, that his horse was not good for anything, and he wanted the fire built up.

He was accommodated; and as there was not room for more than three on the bed, he spread his blankets on the floor at its foot, in front of the fire, and soon all were asleep once more. However, they were not destined to enjoy this peace very long, for shortly after they had all dropped asleep, there came still another commotion at the door. Yager arose, armed himself once more, and going to the door demanded to know what was wanted. It proved to be Leonard A. Gridley and George M. Brown, from Bannack. They inquired for Colonel Sanders, and being informed that he was there, and invited in, they declined, and asked that he come out.

The colonel went out and joined the two men, when he was told that they had been sent by his wife to ascertain his whereabouts and bring him home; and they related to him the events now to follow.

On the morning of the preceding day, a young man named Henry Tilden, who had accompanied Chief Justice Edgerton and Colonel Sanders from their homes in Ohio to Bannack City, had been sent to Horse Prairie, ten miles south of Bannack, to gather together a herd of cattle owned by them and to drive the same into town.

It was rather late when he left Bannack, and as the cattle were somewhat scattered, night came upon him before he had got them all together. He therefore put those he had found in a corral, and having decided to go to the town and spend the night, and return the next day to find the rest, he started in the darkness for Bannack.

He was a young man used to quiet and peace, and wholly untrained in the experiences he was about to undergo. Midway between Horse Prairie Creek and Bannack, as he was riding along at a gallop, he saw in front of him several horsemen. He was somewhat startled, as he was not prepared to meet men under such conditions and in such a country. He gathered courage as he rode, and proceeded along the highway until he came up with the horsemen, who produced their revolvers and told him to throw up his hands and dismount, a request with which he quickly complied, notwithstanding the impolite manner in which it was conveyed. They “went through” his pockets, he meanwhile maintaining a very awkward position with his hands in the air above his head. Finding nothing, they told him to mount his horse and proceed on his way, telling him further that if he ever dared to open his mouth about the circumstance, he would be murdered, or, in their expressive language, they would “blow the top of his head off.”

The young man started towards Bannack, and as soon as he was out of sight of the robbers, rode his horse at its utmost speed.

He finally reached Colonel Sanders’s house on what was known as “Yankee Flat,” not, however, until he had been thrown from his horse, while crossing a mining ditch, and had lain on the ground for a period of time which he could not himself determine, being unconscious.

He told his story of having met the robbers, and further stated that he knew the parties who had “held him up,” particularly one of them, who had held a revolver at his head and who seemed to be a leader among them, and this man was Henry Plummer.

Mrs. Sanders then went with him to the house of Chief Justice Edgerton, where he related again the story of his meeting the highwaymen, and was cautioned to say nothing about it.

As the party whom Colonel Sanders had started to find and travel with had been found going in an opposite direction, and engaged as highway robbers, it naturally excited and alarmed his family, and the result was that they, finding a team which had come into town late that night, procured the horses, and mounted Gridley and Brown and sent them to the Rattlesnake ranche to find the colonel. The next morning Plummer and all the men who had gone with him were in town, appearing as unconcerned as if nothing unusual had occurred.

Colonel Sanders did not at first share Tilden’s belief concerning the personnel of the troop of robbers and his identification of Plummer, but nevertheless, as a precautionary measure, he admonished Tilden not to communicate his beliefs to any one, assuring him that if his conjectures were correct, and an expression of them should ever reach Plummer’s ears, it would go hard with him. Two or three days thereafter, Plummer approached Tilden, and gazing fixedly upon him, abruptly asked if he had any clew by which the robbers could be identified. Tilden, though greatly frightened by this inquiry, gave him an answer which allayed whatever suspicion the wary robber might have entertained. But Tilden himself, in relating the incident to his friends, never wavered in his convictions. There were many among the better class of citizens of Bannack who had for a long time suspected Plummer, and believed him to have been engaged in numerous murders and highway robberies, which were of such frequent occurrence as to scarcely cause comment; and when it was determined on the afternoon of January 10, 1864, that Plummer should be hanged, Tilden was sent for and related his story in detail, which convinced all who heard it of Plummer’s guilt.

Within sixty days after Colonel Sanders’s adventure at the Rattlesnake ranche, he was the sole survivor of the party there assembled, the others having been executed by the Vigilance Committee, and Plummer and his associates in the attempted robbery of Hauser and myself had met the same fate.

But little is known of Gallagher’s early history. He was born near Ogdensburg, New York. He was at Iowa Point, Doniphan County, Kansas, in October, 1859, and in Denver from 1862 till early in 1863. At this latter place he killed a man in an affray, and fled, next making his appearance in the Beaverhead mines. During the Summer of 1863, he shot at and badly wounded a blacksmith by the name of Temple, for interfering to prevent a dog-fight. After this he became uneasy, and finally determined upon leaving the country, and started for Utah. On the Dry Creek divide he met George Ives, who persuaded him to return to Virginia City, and join Plummer’s band.