Democratic Sentinel, Volume 6, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 May 1882 — A Gratofal Indian. [ARTICLE]

A Gratofal Indian.

Among those who drifted hither in '59 during the Pile’s Peak excitement, and who have remained as hunters or prospectors, is Moccasin Bill, stall hiring in his cabin in the Sangre de Christa mountains. At the age of fifty years this man is as straight and active as at twenty, and when he mingles with other men—a rare occurrence—he towers above them like a giant among lilliputians. His long hair falls over his shoulders and descends nearly to his waist in natural curls, now slightly tinged with gray, while a beard that has known no razor for thirty years sweeps his breast. Many years ago he established a hunt-ing-camp in the Gunnison country. Having excavated a hole in the side of a hill, and having completed a warm and secure retreat, he was prepared to pass the winter and brave the perils of that season of the year. He had located a series of traps, and daily he plodded through the snow to secure any animals that might have been captured, and to replenish his larder by bringing down such game as might be obtainable. As the winter advanced the snow became deeper, and spread over the mountains and valleys to the depth of many feet. While making his daily rounds, one day, and while staggering along with a bundle of furs on his back and his rifle on his shoulder, he heard a cry, faint and weak, yet still a call for help. With true frontier courage he responded to the appeal, and ere long found, halfburied in the snow and nearly perished, an Indian. With indefinite difficulty he conveyed the savage to his cabin, and there nursed him back to strength. This Indian had secreted himself upon the trail of the hunter with the avowed intention of killing him, but had succumbed to the cold, and was rescued by the man he had sought to slay. Before leaving his benefactor, he unbosomed himself, and while relating his story pleaded for pardon. His benefaotor knew full well the object the one he had rescued had in view, but had nobly saved him from a horrible fate. The savage and would-be murderer departed from the cabin of his benefactor with a changed heart, and returned to his tribe where he related his adventure. From that day the hunter was honored by the Indians, and many days were spent in their wigwams by one whom they had sought to destroy. His traps were never molested, and when he left for the settlements he carried with him the love of his savage neighbors.