[The following is an account of being captured by Native Americans. In it, Fanny Kelly’s family was part of a wagon train traveling along the Platte route from Kansas to Idaho, during 1863 and 1864.]
Soon the wagon train was again in motion. The Indians insisted on driving our herd and grew ominously familiar. My husband called a halt. He saw that we were approaching a rocky glen, in whose gloomy depths he anticipated a murderous attack. Our enemies urged us for ward, but we resolutely refused to stir. Finally they asked us to prepare supper. They said they would share it with us and then go to the hills to sleep. The men of our party concluded it would be best to give them a feast.
Each man was soon busy preparing the supper. Mr. Larimer and Frank were making the fire. Mr, Wakefield was getting provisions out of the wagon. Mr. Taylor was attending to his team, Mr. Kelly and Andy were out some distance gathering wood, and Mr. Sharp was distributing sugar among the Indians. Then, suddenly, our terrible enemies threw off their masks and dis- played their true natures.
There was a simultaneous discharge of arms. When the cloud of smoke cleared away, I could see the retreating form of Mr. Larimer and the slow motion of poor Mr. Wakefield, for he was mortally wounded.
Mr. Sharp was killed within a few feet of me. Mr. Taylor - I can never forget his face as I saw him shot through the forehead with a rifle ball. He looked at me as he fell backward to the ground. I was the last object that met his dying gaze. Our poor faithful Frank fell at my feet pierced by many arrows. I recall the scene with a sickening horror. I could not see my husband anywhere and did not know his fate. Actually, he and Andy made a miraculous escape but I did not learn this until long afterward.
I had but little time for thought, for the Indians quickly sprang into our wagons, tearing off covers, crushing, and smashing everything that stood between them and their plunder. They broke open locks, trunks, and boxes, and distributed or destroyed our goods with great rapidity, using their tomahawks to pry open boxes, which they split up in savage recklessness.
Author’s Notes:
Mr. Larimer survived but was wounded in one of his limbs by an arrow. Mr. Wakefield was hit by three arrows. He was found a quarter of a mile away, still alive. He tried removing the arrows himself but could only get the shafts out. He later died.
One arrow pierced both his [Frank’s] legs, pinning them together. He was killed by a blow to the head.
Source:
Stephens, John Richard. “Victims of History.” Weird History 101: Tales of Intrigue, Mayhem, and Outrageous Behavior. New York: Barnes & Noble, 2006. 165. Print.
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