Added: Estella Reiss - Date: 16.01.2022 14:15 - Views: 10576 - Clicks: 7249
I must have been about ten years old when my father waved me over him on a fractured sidewalk that was slowly being reclaimed by the turf in Formoso, Kansas, where he introduced me to a slender, elderly gentlleman named Sam Bowles. I shook Mr. Bowles' hand that day without learning why I might want to remember having shaken it. She had included several passages detailing the career of one S. But there was one anecdote from much earlier, nearly two decades before the town was founded, about a man named Sam Bowles who traded shots with some Indian raiders while they were making off with his team of horses.
Sam will figure in Our Pamphlet History. The core of the story is this: Sam had taken a break from plowing to chat with two neighbors walking up the road, and was just getting back to his chores when he discovered the theft in progress and fired off a few shots, which the Indians half-heartedly answered.
For instance, we are asked to believe that Bowles had the presence of mind to count the exact gunshots exchanged, in addition to the stray arrows he may have collected from his yard, for he vividly recalled firing at the thieves a total of thirteen times, while his adversaries launched six bullets and seven feathered missiles at him. One of their misses is said to have occured at point-blank range after the settler temporarily ran out of ammunition, when an old chief stepped up, pointed his revolver at Sam and pulled the trigger, raising a cloud of dust some distance behind his target.
Along the way he ran into his wife, who was toting a fresh supply of firearms and cartridges, allowing Sam to continue peppering the landscape with ineffectual volleys, until the raiders vanished over a distant hill with his horses. One of the most exciting episodes recounted in their booklet was the wild ride of Frank and William Frazier in May of The brothers had been hired to haul the Ackerlys, newlyweds from Brooklyn, back to the train depot in Washington County to escape the wave of violence sweeping across frontier settlements west of the Republican River that spring.
A few days earlier the Ackerlys had journeyed west to the Excelsior Colony, a farming commune composed of fellow emigrants from New York.
Setting out after a few days of heavy rain, Frank and William had an uneventful trip from their farm at the eastern edge of the county. The boys pulled off their boots and got down into the mud to free a stuck wheel just as a horde of Cheyenne Dog Warriors came whooping down on them from the chalk hills. Frank and William hurriedly unhitched the team, told their passengers to remain hidden in the wagon while they drew the attackers away, then climbed on their horses and rode off to warn the remaining colonists to prepare for an imminent attack. A small band of Sioux, a tribe affiliated with the Cheyennes who were about to descend on the Excelsior Colony, stealthily maneuvered between Watson and the Frazier cabin, cutting off any avenue of escape as they crept closer to the plowman and his horses.
Watson only noticed the intruders when Mrs. Frazier suddenly burst into her yard lugging a shotgun and began blasting away, sending the raiders scattering for cover. These tales involving the Frazier family, Robert Watson, and Sam Bowles, encapsulating events from the closing days of hostilities along White Rock Creek in Jewell County, arrive in the history books like a rainbow after a storm.
Following a virtual catalog of horrors that occurred between andwe get a sprinkling of anecdotes which are sometimes suspenseful, but ultimately amusing, sometimes hilarious. Obviously, the Sam Bowles I met as a boy could not be the one who had a run-in with horse thieves inalthough the hero of that well-known historical anecdote probably is the same S.
Around the time I met Mr. The reason for my certainty will have to wait for another time. Lovewell history. Getting Schooled What About Bob? Best Wishes, Mr. Getting the Short End ». Sep 28, at AM.Formoso KS wife swapping
email: [email protected] - phone:(296) 535-1274 x 8970
Clinton Reynolds, Age 90