Early Settlement Of The Boise Valley:
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EARLY SETTLEMENT OF THE BOISE VALLEY:
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ANDERSON COX ALICE SMITH, compiler
Published by the
IDAHO GENEALOGICAL SOCIETY POB 1854 BOISE ID 83701-1854
Revised 1999 Dec 14 EARLY SETTLEMENT OF THE BOISE VALLEY: Part 1:AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ANDERSON COX ALICE SMITH, compiler
[Editor’s note: Quoted material is exactly as it appears in the originals. Most of this typescript has been double checked for accurcy but some of the latter part has not been rechecked yet.]
“My father, Reuben Cox and my mother, Anna (Napier) Cox, emigrated with their parents and other members of their families from the south to northwest Missouri. Father’s people were from Tennessee and Napiers were from Kentucky. These people came west to Missouri to acquire land and fortune on the frontier. Missouri was termed “way out west” at that time. After the two families had taken up land and gotten settled in their new homes, my father and mother were married on December 31st., 1840. They established a home of their own and in this old pioneer home
1 were born my father’s entire family with the exception of Ellen, the youngest who was born in Dixie, Idaho, January 23, 1865.
In the spring of 1864, father decided on still another move further west. Conditions in the state of Missouri were very discouraging to him. The country was so badly torn up through the efforts of the war, it seemed it would be many years before it could be restored to the enjoyable homes and peaceful surroundings they had known. The war was still rageing in the South and no one could tell when the terrible conflict would end. Missouri being a border state between the North and the Southern states probably felt the disturbance more than any other that far north” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1).
The family consisted of four boys, Riley, Henry, Anderson and James and four girls, Martha, Mary, Savannah and Catherine. “The eldest son was fighting for the Confederacy at the time and did not join his family until the end of the war between the states” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper).
MISSOURI HOME “We had a comfortable old home. The house consisted of two large rooms. The walls were built of brick with hard oak floors - shingled roof - a large fire place were in each room. The furniture was all homemade including bedsteads tables and chairs. The sleeping quarters were simple and plain enough. The bedsteads were made high enough for a trunndle bed to slip under. There were two big beds in each room - so there were four beds in each. Our beds were ticks filled with straw and a big feather bed on the straw bed. Matresses and springs were yet unknown to us. We had a small cook stove for baking biscuits, but for cooking meat and vegetables black pots and kettles were hung on hooks in the fire place on a long iron rod that extended from one side of the fireplace to the other” (Cox manuscript nd:1).
“I well remember the big black iron three legged kettle that held about fifteen gallons of water and set on a small furnace outside of the kitchen where water was heated for all purposes, especially for warm water to bathe. We brought the big kettle to Idaho. I guess it came in pretty good use along the road. We had Dutch ovens of different sizes also skillets with long handles smaller than the ovens with covers” (Cox manuscript nd:2-3).
“We had very few dishes for such a large family. I remember a set of white crockery with a border of wheat heads and leaves in blue color. There were some tin cups and plates a pewter sugar boll and cream pitcher - crockery ware was used to put food in on the table and for jars and churns: tubs and buckets were made of wood” (Cox manuscript nd:3).
“In Missouri people lived on what grew on the ground mostly - besides beef and pork and fowels - such as chickens ducks and geese. The sweetinings were Maple sugar and sirup - and wild honey found in hollow trees - or where the bees could put it” (Cox manuscript nd:3). “The maple grove was a mile form the home - down in the river bottom... . In the spring before sugar time came the folks would establish a sugar camp where the workers could stay. At least six girls composed the crew. There was a man foreman to manage the affair - one who understood making sugar. When everything was in readiness the trees were tapped by boring augur holes in the trees and insert spouts of hollowed wood with caulks to prevent losing sap in changing buckets. When the buckets were full they were emptied in to a big vat that was over a furnace. When the vat was filled the fire was started. When the sap began to get hot then the girls job commenced. The sap had to be stirred constantly to keep from getting scorched as that would spoil the whole batch. So two girls worked on a shift with long wooden paddles did the work which required two or three days and nights. While this is going on, sap would be running getting ready for another batch. By trying the sap when it was nearly done the boss would announce the job was finished. Then it was run off into moulds making square or round cakes when it was cool” (Cox manuscript nd:3-5).
“The cane sugar making came later when the cane was old enough, when it had the most juice. A few acres would make enough sirup and cane sugar to last a year. The process of making was very much the same as the cane [maple?] sugar; only the juice had to be pressed out. This was done in a mill called a cane mill - run by a horse. There were two rollers about eighteen inches in diameter and four feet long cut off of a smooth log and stood upright tight together in a strong frame and set in a water tight box to catch the juice as it was pressed out of the cane. The top of one of the rollers was attached to a long pole or sweep ten or twelve feet long, then a gentle horse was hitched to the sweep and go in a circle around turning the rollers and the two being close together both rollers turned like a clothes ringer. By feeding the long stalks in between the rollers as they turned the juice would run out in a stream. The juice was boiled down and treated as the maple juice. With the old cane mill a constant screeching and grinding noise was made and could be heard all around the place. I can almost hear that noise made by the old mill as I fancy I can hear it, though that was such a long time ago” (Cox manuscript nd:5-6).
“I remember how us kids loved to go to the sugar camp - drink the juice and eat the hard sugar. We small kids were always cautioned about going too near the big sugar vat when the stuff was boiling lest we fall into the hot juice” (Cox manuscript nd:6).
2 “Most farmers raised a few sheep that produced the wool that the cloth was made for clothing” (Cox manuscript nd:6). “We had home made looms on which on which cloth was woven. I have heard my mother say [she?] sheared the sheep then carded the wool into rolls - then the old spinning wheel spun the rolls into balls of yarn to be woven into cloth, stockings and socks for the family various artilces in the home by nimble fingers. All the clothing was made by hand for the family. Sewing machines were not known with the country folks. Some few articles could be bought in stores. Cotton cloth could be bought to make under clothes for the children but at a very high price so I have heard older folks say. Father made the shoes for the children of home tanned leather. I was ten years old when I got my first store shoes. Morher would be busy during the long evenings sewing on or making garments for the children by the dim light of a tallo candle while the girls were busy with their knitting needles, knitting stockings” (Cox manuscript nd:8).
1864 PREPARING TO LEAVE MISSOURI “When our folks decided to leave Missouri and go West it required months to get ready to move and decide what to take along. Things mostly needed was a hard question to figure on. Neighborhood train of about sixty wagons was made up and all acquainted with each other. Our family had two wagons drawn by oxen and cows, three yoke to each wagon, and one wagon drawn by two horses and a saddle horse that father rode. In making ready to start on the road the wagons were carefully packed with the heavy stuff first - flour Bacon hams and other kinds of food - stacks of hard Maple sugar cakes, Sirup dried apples by the sacks full - dried corn a large sack of green coffee that had to be parched and ground in a mill - this is the principle list of the food articles we started with including a lot of pumpkin that had been dried on long sticks hung under the kitchen ceiling during the winter before we started on the trip. It would get so hard and dry it would have to be soaked over night before cooking. After being cooked soft it sure tasted good spread on our bread, even without any milk” (Cox manuscript nd:9).
“ A few days before we started on the road the folks went to the town of Albany t__ miles distant to have some pictures taken - tin types. I was one of the bunch and when it came my time to sit for a picture I was plenty scared. I had never been in such a place as a picture galery and they had quite a time getting me in any kind of position and be quiet long enough. The photographer kept talking to me. He told me - now sit very still. He put a dark cloth over his head and stepped behing the camera - now you watch close and you will see and a little red bird will fly out and you must catch it. Well, he got my picture but I did not git the bird, nor I did not see it. I was very disappointed” (Cox manuscript nd:10).
1864 LEAVING FOR THE WEST “By May 1st. quite a large train was made up in the neighborhood and ready to start on it’s long journey across the plains. On the 10th of May, 1864, the train pulled out of Gentry county for the land of the “setting sun”, be it California, Oregon or Idaho, seemingly just anywhere to get away. I was just a small boy, but I distinctly remember the starting (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1).
“It was a sad and sorrowful parting for those starting on the trek as well as for the ones being left behind - not knowing they would ever see each other again for the long road ahead was infested with hostile and muderous Indians and treacherous outlaws. To think of giving up our dear old home, relatives and friends to find a new home away out West in a strange land” (Cox manuscript nd:1).
“On leaving the old home there were many things I regretted leaving - the main one was leaving our old family mother dog, old Banner, and forgetting my Barlow pocket Knife laying in the window and others. Old Banner was laying on the lawn by the door watching us leave” (Cox manuscript nd:11).
1864 ON THE OREGON TRAIL “Father was elected the captain of the outfit. The train was composed of eighty wagons drawn by ox teams. They traveled west to the crossing of the Missouri river at Plattsmouth on a nice steam ferry boat. This was the general crossing place for the emigrants (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1).
“My father being Captain of the train it was his duty to look to the welfare of the people: he acted as scout all the way through the Indian country. He had an other man to go with him - they rode good horses. They kept on the lookout for Indian warriors for several miles on either side of the road and far in the lead, to see if any bad Inidans were in force near” (Cox manuscript nd:11).
“Through the bad Indian Country us children were cautioned not to go far from the wagons, lest a big Indian would grab us. Some times a few Indians - squaws and Pappooses would come to our camp to beg biscuits or any thing the folks would give them. One day some young Indian boys came begging biscuits. Father - to have some fun - he stuck a stick in the ground and put a biscquit on it - he told them if they coud hit it with their bow and arrows they could have it; they hit every one he put up at ten steps. he did not put up many as it was too expensive. Through the bad Indian Country when the train camped the wagons were corraled forming a large circle where every body stayed cooked ate and slept. Night watchmen were put out to guard the stock, two men each night, every night two men took their turn” (Cox manuscript nd:11-12).
3 “Many places fuel was very scarce to cook with. In such places it was the childrens job to take buckets and gather buffalo chips - they were the dried dung left by the buffalo as they roamed over the dry plains. In the early summer as they left the hot plains for the high summer cool ranges in the mountains. So by the time we got in the buffalo country it was hot weather and all game animals had gone to cooler haunts and no game of any kind was to be had along the road” (Cox manuscript nd:12).
The trip “was truly a hard one for us children. For four months on the road with such hard living and scarce variety too. We had no milk or canned food as canned food was not known. No butter - we had cows but after a few weeks they failed to give milk. The feed dried up and working hard helping to pull the heavy loaded wagons we soon had no milk - no cereals of any kind. We had to get along with sirip and honey on our bread and biscuits - and drink water - and that was not decent to drink - and often filthy and dirty. We drank lots of coffee that was thouroughly boiled” (Cox manuscript nd:16).
“We had no table or stools to set on so we had to put the food on the ground and sit on the ground to eat it, or sit on an ox yoke or wagon tongue. The dust was so deep sometimes the wind blew and sprinkle[d] the food with dust and sand - but we all got used to that and had to eat it - as they cound not afford to throw any kind of food away that could be ate. Our clothes would get so dirty and the bedding too. the train would have to lay over once in a while for a day to clean up some and bathe in the big tub if there was plenty of water. The stock had to have a rest if a good camping place was found. After several days travel on roads of deep dust everyone surely enjoyed a day of rest and a good wash and clean clothes. There was no place on the hot desert plains a place where there was a shade tree of any kind to get under. The noon meal had to be eaten right in the hot sun and dust” (Cox manuscript nd:17).
“The girls slept in one of the wagons the men occupied the other. There was a small tent where father and mother slept - it was also used by the girls as a place to dress in and bathing when in camp on the road” (Cox manuscript nd:10).
“I had an Uncle William Cox my fathers brother and family. He had a son Oliver, a year older then myself. We had lots of good times playing together. Uncle Bill as we called him brought along from home a gentle old family horse. Oliver and I spent many happy times riding the old horse, he always rode in front as he was the oldest. One day we rode ahead of the train for quite a distance - we came to a fork of the road - as it happened we took off on the wrong road - we got quite a distance from the train behing [behind] a kind of a hill - when we came in view the train was on the other road and we were about 1/4 mile away we got terribly scared and we both began to squall thought we were going to get scalped, my older brother who was driving our horse team was some distance ahead of the ox teams heard us squalling started out after us to see what all the uproar was about - when we were safely back to the train - we surely thought we would never go so far from the train again” (Cox manuscript nd:13).
The road led up the Platt river to Julesburgh to the crossing of the Platt to the north side and on north to Fort Laramie, then turned west up Sweet Water river on through South Pass over the Rocky Mountains (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1).
On the Big Sandy “a big grass fire broke out and soon looked like the country was all afire. a breeze was blowing and carrying the fire from one direction right to the camp. That caused a great excitement. There was another train on the same camp ground and every body big enough to fight fire got out and used every thing to fight with they could use - finally they got it beat out till it missed the camp - but they had a terrible fight. The grass was dry as powder and burned like a flash. Several years later after we came to Boise City I was going to school to one of the girls that belonged to that other train. I remember hearing her ask my mother if she remembered the terrible grass fire on Big Sandy she said certainly that she would always remember that awful scare as the[y?] both were in it” (Cox manuscript nd:14).
“Our family and the Fournoys became acquainted while on the plains. They belonged to another very large train. The two trains got together and occupied the same camp ground at night for a long distance on the last part of the trip” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, probably a Boise paper).
“Several times the young people of the train or maybe two or three trains would scrape off the hard ground and have a big dance. There were several men who could play the fiddles and banjos and made the music for dancing. it was lots of fun for us children to see them dance and hear the music. Every one seeded to enjoy the occasion. the dancing had to be done while it was yet daylight as there was no way of making light after dark” (Cox manuscript nd:15).
“After leaving the camp on Big Sandy a few days later we came to Green river - how was we kids disappointed - We expected to see a river of real green water. While in camp at Green river the men got some nice fish - I remember getting a pin and making me a fish hook. I thought I could catch a fish with a bent pin and a twine string - but it did not work” (Cox manuscript nd:15).
4 They struck the “Snake river at Fort Hall. There the road forked, one road continued on down the south side of the river, the other crossed the river on a ferry boat” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1). “When the train got to Fort Hall the greater portion took the southern route that followed down on the south side of the Snake river” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper).
“The latter is the one our train took. It was the northern route which led to Lost river and on west around the lava flow, which is now known as the “Valley of the Moon,” continued on west to the crossing of the Big Wood river, thence through Camas Prairie crossing Dixie creek, Long Tom and Canyon creek, (which is also called Syrup creek,) then down over the plateau of hills and vales for a period of a two day trek to the top of the high level, or jumping off place from which point we got our first view of the beautiful Boise valley and the narrow thread of green timber as far as the eye could reach, with the beautiful mountains and grassy hills for the northern back ground and the never ending sage brush to the south. A half days travel over several steep, rocky hills to different lervels, brought the train into camp on the river five miles above the city of Boise. The following morning, the train crossed the river to the north side” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1) “- at the I.N. Costin ranch (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper) “and passed through the city. This was September 2nd, 1864, after a trek of four months I was five years old on the day we reached Boise. I remember passing through. It presented a most inspiring view. There were a few vegetable gardens as most of the inhabitants had settled there the year before (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1).
“After crossing the city we moved on down the river for about twenty five miles near the site of Old Middleton, as the town has been moved to it’s present location. There we recrossed to the south side, then went over Canyon hill. In gaining the top of the hill, a wonderful view met out gaze” (Cox manuscript nd:18).
“We could look over a large expanse of level valley from the hill for many miles. To the south and west beyond the green valley, the never ending sage brush plains extended as far as could be seen. The valley that presented such a pleasing view was to be known to us as “Dixie Valley” for the reason that so many people from Missouri had located there. Little did I know or realaize that not more than two miles further on would be my future home for eight years” (Cox manuscript nd:18).
“By the time our train had reached Dixie, it had dwindled to a fragment. Some had taken the route down the south side of the Snake river at Fort Hall, others switched off to the big mining camps in the Boise Basin, Rocky Bar, Silver City and some continued on to Oregon” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:3). Our little train was composed of my father’s family of 10 members, and the family of his brother, William Cox, the Jim Morris family and the Charley Black family and some others” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper).
“The people of our train were very fortunate while on the trip, though it was a hard one. There were no deaths no bad sickness and no serious accidents. I was not old enough to realize the hardships as did the older ones” (Cox manuscript nd:18).
ARRIVAL IN DIXIE “Father was stricken with typhoid feaver two days before we got to Dixie. He was too sick to travel further so we had to stop and go into camp” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1).
“On account of father’s sickness, Uncle Will’s folks remained in camp with us for a month. Their stock got a good rest, then they pulled out for Oregon” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1).
“Uncle’s family, included among others, two grown daughters, Martha and Sarah. Sarah, the youngest, was married during the month [September 28, 1864 (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, probably a Boise paper)] to a young bachelor, John O. Levander by name, the first couple to be married in the [Lower] Boise valley. Elder B.F.Morrow performed the ceremony. Levander had a comfortable log house on his claim where they lived for several years, and other places in the Boise valley before moving to Salmon river where they established a road house, a ferry and post office at Goff near (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, probably a Boise paper)] Riggins. They resided there for many years. They both passed away and were buried there. The Levanders are fondly remembered by the many old pioneer friends” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:1-2).
“Uncle William ... pulled on to Oregon, settling at Pilot Rock where he remained the rest of his life (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, probably a Boise paper).
“Later in the fall, the whole family, with the exception of mother, came down with the dreadful disease, one at a time. The long siege lasted through the fall and most of the winter. There was no chance to get even a one room cabin for the sick, so they had to remain in the covered wagons and one small tent that we brought with us. By the time the nights began to get cold, two young neighbor men built a one room cabin of green Balm logs with a fire place in one end and a door in the other. A black dirt floor and dirt roof and it was finished. These good men let us have the use of it for a short time. It afforded a place and shelter for mother to do the cooking and for some of the sick. Late in the fall,
5 two other neighbor bachelors built a one room adobe house half a mile away and they also let our folks occupy it until spring time, but some of the sick had to stay in the wagons, but they were all on the mend” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:2). “-we had pleanty of cool fresh air which must have been beneficial. We were well supplied with Missouri home-spun and woven blankets, coverlets and good feather beds, so we were comfortabel in that respect” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper).
“After a long and severe siege of the fever we all came through without the loss of a one. I have heard Mother say many times “Had the family been in a warm comfortable house, I believe half of us would have died... Mother was the one to bear the hardships, through weeks and even months of constant care, hard work, weary and sleepless nights. It was enough to exhaust the strength and heart of the hardiest pioneer” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper).
“The next event to happen in our family was the birth of our baby sister, Ellen, which came on January 23, 1865” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper).
“Old Doctor Flournoy was our doctor... He did the best he could in treating the sick under the circumstances as the supply of medicines was very limited - only what he and our folks brought from home in Missouri.
However when it came time for making settlement with the doctor, father did not have the cash, so the doctor said he was willing to take the span of good horses, harness and covered wagon that mother and the small children rode in across the plains. Good horses were very scarce at that time and the outfit was worth from $350 to $400. As much as the family hated to part with the team and wagon, the doctor came one day and took them away and that settled the bill, but I guess he earned them” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper).
“The winter of 1864 and 1865 is remembered as one of the most severe known to the early pioneers of Boise valley. There was about two feet of snow that came in the early part of winter and remained till March. There was no hay or other feed put up in the valley. The range stock got through the winter fairly well for there was plenty of dry grass above the snow. The emigrant cattle nearly all died. They were not used to rustling their feed in the snow and cold” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, probably a Boise paper).
“Our flour, bacon and a few other articles lasted through the summer and well into the winter after arriving at Dixie. Two large outfits brought large herds of range cattle into the valley...from southeastern Oregon. There was pleanty of good beef among the herds and the owners sold beef to the emigrants at reasonable prices. That gave the people a wonderful help for a living. These herds came in during the late fall after out arrival” (Cox 1972:8).
“There were a few settlers in Dixie who had emigrated there during the spring and summer preceeding us and had built comfortable log houses or cabins on squatter claims. As few of these old landmarks are to be seen at this late date as relics of pioneer days. By late fall of 1864, there was quite a population in Dixie and a goodly number were young men bachelors or unmarried men” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:2).
“Among the families I remember that lived in our vicinity besides our own were the Dr. J.B.Wrights who wintered in a dugout in the side if Canyon hill in the winter of 1864-1865. Elder B.F.Morrow, A.R.T.Newland, Peter Johnson, James Simms, John Bowman, John Anderson, Dr. Froman, John Levander and the Charles Black family. The Black family [last line missing]. The oldest daughter Mary and I were the same age and were playmates all the way across the plains and until the family left Dixie. Mary later married the late William Ridenbaugh of Boise. .... Of the single men settlers, there were Tom and Dave Johnson, John and Marion Powell, John and Jake Henry and others” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:2-3).
“When spring came those of our train concluded to stay in Idaho and found homes in diffferent localities. My father squatted on a quarter section on Dixie slough. Elder Morrow took land adjoining him on the west. Art Newland next, then Tom Johnson and brother Dave. Peter Johnson took a tract east of us at the head of the slough. The Charley Black family wintered in the log house” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper) that in 1865 “became the property of B.F.Young and is now known as the Golden Gate Addition to the City of Caldwell” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:2-3). “When spring came they... established the popular Black station” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, probably a Boise paper) on the Overland stage road sixteen miles east of Boise City” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:2-3). “The Jim Morris family stayed in the valley until the stage line was established from Boise to The Dalles, Ore. Then they moved to Willow Creek, about six milles north of Middleton, and kept the stage station for several years” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, probably a Boise paper).
LIFE AT DIXIE SLOUGH “After we arrived in [Lower] Boise Valley - that was called Dixie - we went into camp for quite a long time. A family lived near our camp who had three little girls we were all playmates. Their names were Amanda Rachel and Lucinda [Fruit], the youngest two years old. Me and my younger brother were at their house one day at play. Cinda was on a
6 stool by the table whe she knocked a big sharp butcher knife off and in falling it came in contact with her stomach - cutting a gash about two inches long There was no Dr. so my father and another man had to do the best they could in dressing the wound. I remember so plainly how they worked with the girl. Her mother held Cinda on her lap while the men worked with her trying to stop the bleeding and take a few stitches to close the gash. We kids were standing around withn our mouthes open. Watched them take out several spoons full of fat before they could sew it up. Cinda kicked and squalled so loud that we other kids were so excited it just seemed the men were just killing her, After they got her sewed up and bandages on she got easy and was all right soon able to play” (Cox manuscript nd:18-9). “There had been many people slain by Indians in this part of Idaho at different times but no murders committed by white men. In the summer and fall of 1863 there were two cattle companies which drove several hundred head of cattle into the lower Boise valley from Oregon. As there was an abundance of good feed in the valley and the adjacent foothills, it was an ideal place for winter range. Mining business was on the boom and the several mining towns of the Boise basin furnished an excellent market for beef. One of these companies was the Dean & Bailey, the other was the Richie & Chrisman. Richie was a single man and lived with the Chrismans. They occupied a one-room log house that stood about one-eighth of a mile east of the house - later known as the Bill Kinkaid ranch house. Some time during the winter of “64 and ‘65 as the record does not showthe exact date, a great excitement prevailed among the neighbors over a report that Richie had killed Chrisman. The report proved to be true. Mrs. Chrisman was the only eyewitness and her story of the murder follows: The two men were engaged in a settlement of some business affairs between them when trouble arose, and in a heated passion Richie suddenly drew a knife and stabbed Chrisman, mortally wounding him. He died within a few minutes. The neighbors gathered in, took charge of the body and buried it a short distance from their house until spring, when the body was removed to Oregon.
Mrs. Chrisman was one of the Richardsons that lived in the valley... There was nothing done with Richie for murdering Chrisman, as there were no peace officers or courts of justice in that part of the country, and no one had the authority to arrest him. Sentiment was so great against Richie that he closed out his business and left the country very early in the spring following” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, probably a Boise paper).
“During the next summer - father and my older brother built us a nice new log house all our own. We had some cows so we had nice milk and nice butter. I was old and big enough to help do the milking and chase after the calves and ride them. There were two that me and younger brother Jim could [ride?] they were big five or six months old We had a log stable for horses and calves and a big corral built of poles around the stable. On one side of the corral there was an old ditch four or five feet wide - it was nearly full of black mud with several inches of water on the mud. In our play, I wanted to take a ride on my calf We got the calf in the stable - I got a rope around the calf, got on and all fixed I told Jim to let my horse out and when he got out he started running along the fence and headed for this old ditch - when he got to the ditch he stopped short, but I went on over my horses head right into this awful mess about one and a half feet deep. an awful sight it was of water on top of a mass of soft black Dixie mud” (Cox manuscript nd:19-20).
“We kids were playing about this spring catching frogs and tadpoles I think when Jim slipped into it - only a bit of his head was above the mud. Minnie Johnson who was a little older than the rest of us grabbed him by the hair and pulled him out or he would have drowned” (Cox manuscript page 20).
“Until I was a big boy - snakes was my very worst enemy - and are not but a little better yet. When I was a young boy a snake could almost scare the life out of me. At one time we lived for a while in a one room log house. I came out the door one day there was a snake of somekind right in the door. I jumped over it and scared it, that it ran around the house. I happened to go the other and we met at the back so I thought sure the thing was after me - I began to squall so that mother rushed around there to see what in the world was the matter. I told her a snake got after me. Mother used to send me with a small bucket of water up in the hay field to the men in hay time If I should happen to see a snake by the path or in the road and if I had water in my bucket away would go the bucket and I would go back to the house on a high lope - and some one else would have to take the water - mother or one of the girls” (Cox manuscript nd:21).
“When my younger brother and I were yet small boys - we had two older brothers who were grown men - but we all lived at the old home. Our two brothers were always having fun with us playing all kinds of tricks on us - and some we did not forget in many years. About a quarter of a mile from the house there was a swampy place of several acres where wild ducks and water fowels gathered at night. Our brothers told us of how much sport it was to go sniping. Snipes were small swamp birds with long bills. In the spring time after the nights got warm we could hear the night birds frogs night hawks merry glee. they said it was mostly snipes noise - there were so many and were easy caught - They had caught lots of them in sacks. They would go with us - all we need to take was a big burlap sack each but had to wait till dark. So we started and when we got to the place they got us located in a dry place about thirty yards apart. We are going out now to drive in the snipes they said, now you boys keep very still - crouch down and hold the sacks open wide: so they started off in opposite directions. It might take thirty minutes or longer. I think we sat there an hour and no snipes came - maybe longer. We began to think something was wrong. It was getting so dark - we got scared and started for the house on a dead run. When we got home - there they lay in bed - now/how was we mad. They were laughing and asked us what we had done with the birds. We told them it was just one of their lies - for there was no snipes there. Then we got sticks of wood thay [that] lay in the corner to make the morning fire and we
7 went at them to give them a good beating . They got under the cover but we gave them a good warm one as hard as we could They promised to give us some candy the next time they went to town - if we would stop and go to bed. they kept laughing and talking to us - Oh that was a joke. We just got steamboated - well we could not see why there was so much fun in a steam boat” (Cox manuscript nd:21-3).
“It was early in the winter of 1866 that father, Sid Glass and another man thought to take a deer hunt down the valley about ten miles. Between the Boise and Snake rivers there was a scope of country they called the sand hills. The small hills or dunes were formed by the wind drifting the sand among the big sage brush. There was plenty of dry grass among the brush that made excellent winter range for the hundreds of deer that came from the higher reaches for winter.
The men rigged out for the hunt. There was a light fall of snow on the ground, a good tracking snow as they called it, and it was a favorable time to go out. They took a wagon, three good horses and saddles and camp equipment and drove down to Doctor Froman’s ranch home on Boise river and camped. Saddling the horses, leaving the wagon, they rode out about two miles to the deer country. Here they discovered fresh deer tracks.
They dismounted, tied the horses to sage brush and commenced to follow the tracks. It was a dark snowy day so they could not see very far ahead. They followed the tracks till they got quite a distance from their horses and were walking near together when all of a sudden - “spang” went an old gun of some sort and Glass’s right arm fell to his side, broken by a bullet. Just then an Indian’s head peeped over a sand ridge within a few yards of them. The other two men fired a volley at the red skin but they never knew whether they hit him or not. At least they found no dead Indian. When the men opened fire, five Indians jumped out of the brush and ran. The Indians were between the men and the horses so after they had started on the run to make their get away they spied the horses and made straight for them. The horses were gentle and the Indians had no trouble to get hold of them. They mounted them and made for Snake river. Part of them got on the horses and the other followed afoot. When once across Snake river they were safe.
The men were surley in a bad predicament. Two miles out in the desert. One with a broken arm - horses, saddles, overcoats, lunch - everything gone. They worked their way back to the doctor’s. He splinted the arm and bandaged it up and took them back home. The arm got along fine and fully recovered from the break. He afterward liven in Jordan Valley and visited at our place occasionally. He and father would discuss the whole circumstance of their deer hunt” (The Idaho Statesman Sunday Morning October 15, 1933).
“In 1866 the valley began to seem more civilized. A school district was organized. A small log cabin was secured for a schoolhouse. Miss Kate Flournoy of Boise City, a young emigrant girl, was employed for teacher. This was the first school to be taught in Boise valley west of Boise City. This writer was a pupil of her school” (Cox in undated, unidentified newspaper clipping, apparently a Boise paper).
“School was held in a one room log cabin with a dirt floor and dirt roof. The seats or benches were of split logs. The split side was made smooth as possible with a broad axe. The legs were long pins of the proper length inserted in augur holes bored in the round side of the log. The seats were not very comfortable, as I was one of the pupils and can testify to that fact. The teacher was paid by subscription as this was long before school districts were formed (Cox 1972:8).
1867 FRUIT AND MORGAN FERRY “In the spring of 1867 father leased the hotel and feed corral of Fruit and Morgan, owners of the property at their ferry on Snake river, which a few years later was Known as Walter’s ferry. Father leased the place and moved the family there early in the spring. The same old adobe house we lived in is still inhabitable and is quite well preserved [1933]. If that old house was any kind of a story teller, it could certainly tell some wonderful ones.. Stories of fortunes won and lost, of Indian battles fought, hair breath escapes and the like told while the heros squirted the tobacco juice on the burning sage brush piled high in that old fire place. It is said this old house was built in 1863” (The Idaho Statesman Sunday Morning October 15, 1933).
“our folks were to run the boarding and rooming house. The ferry boat was a large flat boat with a railing around it. Heavy teams - wagons - the four horse stage and all kind of travelers were ferried over. The stage stopped there every day for the passengers to have dinner as it came from Silver City” (Cox manuscript nd:24-7).
“ - we had been there [at the ferry] about two months when an awful thing happened that caused all - men women and children a terrible scare - the Stage was late in arriving one day and in the course of an hour or two - one of the ferrymen climbed to the top of the tall derrick that the cable was fastened to that the boat run on in crossing the river - he could see with his field glasses men on horse back coming in a dead run for the ferry boat that was always lying in wait for the stage to cross to our side. They were two miles or more from the ferry when they were seen coming. there were three men and two horses. One horse was carrying two riders. When they got to the ferry they were so badly scared they could scarcely talk or tell what had happened. By the time they had gotten across to our side they were revived enough to relate what had happened. They said: The stage was coming down the canyon - when all of a
8 sudden a shot was fired at close range from a rifle hitting the driver [Billy Younger was the driver (Cox - paper for Pocahontas Chapter DAR, Caldwell Idaho June 1926)] and wounding him mortally - He slumped down in the boot of the stage. A man passenger was sitting beside him grabbed the lines and tried to out run the Indians. Through his excitement and fright he got the horses all tangled up and came to a halt - they had got quite a ways ahead of the Indians when the stage stopped the men all jumped out. One brave man kept a cool head. he got a horse lose from the stage - he mounted him and rode close by the stage, he pulled the wounded driver out and got him on behind . He rode till he was some distance ahead - when the driver died he wheeled the horse off to one side and dumped the dead man behind some rocks so the Indians never found him. Then he ran back and picked up another man that was running for life and brought him safely to the ferry. so there were three men saved - and three killed. The driver one passenger and a man that was coming through on horseback close behind the stage. I have seen the rock many times the Indian was hid behind that shot the driver. It is there to this day. No one knew how many Indians there were - they were hid in the rocks on both sides of the road - and were shooting all the while. after the first was fired. Of the three that escaped was one that got a horse loosed got on him and escaped. In the afternoon of the day the men were killed several men from our side of the river rigged up a wagon and team - went up to the place. They armed themselves well with rifles - and were ready for another battle if they found any Indians = but there were none to be found but they found all the dead men and brought them in. The folks all went out to see them we children were awfully scared when we looked at them I will never forget how terrible they looked. They had been chased by the Indians and so scared when they were killed. they were taken on to Boise City. The stage coach was brought in It looked frightfull It was shot full of bullet holes and the canvas top and sides were shot into ribbons. This awful affair happened about two months after we moved to the ferry - so my folks says” (Cox manuscript nd:24-7). [William Younger, stage driver, James Uhlman and Mr. Bouchet, a Frenchman, were killed by Indians 1867 March 25 (Staham 1998:30)]
“My sister Mary, had gotten married. She and her husband were living with us on the ranch. After we moved to the ferry they remained on the place to care for it while we were away.
We had not been at the ferry but two or three weeks till we received word that sister was seriously sick. We all came to the ranch to see her. A baby boy was born to her and in just a few days she passed away - April 7, 1867. The next thing was to locate a suitable place for the grave. Father, Tom Johnson and Art Newland went to find a location. Canyon hill appealed to them as the most desirable, as it was the highest ground in the surrounding country. They searched the hills over and then decided on a spot that seemed to be the highest. There they dug the grave among the big sagebrush that covered the entire hill. There she was laid away surrounded by a small group of sorrowing friends and neighbors in that lonely and desolate waste and from our home for several years we could hear the dismal howl of coyotes sounding her requiem each night and morning. It was beyond the imagination of any of the men that they were digging the grave which would mark the beginning of the present, beautiful cemetary of which the city of Caldwell is today justly proud” (The Idaho Statesman Sunday Morning October 15, 1933).
“The Indians were very bad that summer - every little while we would hear of people being killed by them on the roads in the hills - and out [of the] way places. About a month after the stage passengers were killed and the big scare at the ferry - we had a worse one for us children:There was a large Island in the river five miles up the river from the ferry. There was lots of grass grew there. Two men took a mowing machine there and cut hay; they took a hay press also - to bale the hay - they took all their stuff over on a boat across the north channel of the river. The kind of hay press they had stood 8 feet high and four ft long - two feet wide with wide doors on each side. So early one morning some one at the ferry saw a big smoke at the Island and gave the alram - they knew something was wrong: men saddled their horses - took their rifles and rode as fast as they could. When they got near the Island they saw two Indians swimming the South channel of the river. It was a long time after that a friendly Indian told how it all happened = told to a white man. He said the two Indians hid in the hay press and when the men came to work the Indians shot them at close range = after they shot and scalped them they set fire to the hay and the press. They mounted the mens horses and made for the South channel of the river they plunged into it. The horses carried them and their guns across safely - they made good their escape. It was the horses they wanted more than anything else. They usually had to kill the men before they could get their horses” (Cox manuscript nd:28-9).
[The best fit is James Fraser and William Slack killed 1867 April. No location given. Buried Pioneer Cemetary, Silver City, Owyhee County Idaho (Stachen 1864:35). The date fits data given by Cox but April is a poor month for haying.]
There were lots of willows - wild rose and currant brush and bushes growing along the river banks - there were lots of wild currants and when they were ripe the folks were crazy to go and get some. It was Sunday after noon there was a company made up to go. There were my mother - sister Catherine bro Jim and Mrs. Morgan her boy Willie of just my age and myself. There were three men of the ferry crew took their rifles and acted as our guards and run the boat that we were to ride in also to protect us from Indians that might be hiding in the brush. The boat was a flat top and about the length of Elizabeths front room but not so wide - just a flat boat without any railing around it to hold on to. The top or floor was a foot above the water in the river. The men placed seats on the boat for us to sit on. A horse hitched to the boat by a long rope to pull the boat along. The horse walked along the path on the bank of the river - while two men with long poles walked along and kept pushing the boat out in the river a few feet from the banks. Things went
9 along fine till a strong wind began to blow and made big waves that lashed up against the sides of the boat when a big wave rolled up it would splach water over the floor and under our feet - Now when these big waves commenced to roll against the boat all of us young ones began to squall looked like we were surely going to be drowned. Mother and Mrs. Morgan sure had their hands full keeping us huddled down as close to them so to keep us quiet. By the time the men got to the place to stop and anker the boat the wind had ceased. when all got off the boat and all went to picking berries that was big enough - After a while the men showed us the place where the Indians killed the two men and burned the hay and press. While they were telling us all about it - we kids got frightened again as we thought there might be the terrible old Indians hiding in the brush and scalp us all before we knew it. When the berry picking was over and all got aboard we kids were sure happy as we went floating down the river toward home. So no more boatriding on that kind of a boat for us. and I think some others thought so too” (Cox manuscript nd:29-31).
“The summer we were at the ferry was not altogether a happy one for us youngsters - aside from the bad scares we had. There were many things came along that were amusing. there was so much travel on the road of all kinds of outfits and people. many travelers stayed over night We would hear men tell big stories of how the Indians killed people that were traveling through the Indian country. So we had a feeling of fear that we might be grabbed and murdered if we ventured very far from home - unless there were some others along. I became quite a fisher - some of the folks learned me to fish - and gave me some hooks and line and most every after noon I would spend a lot of time fishing along the river but not too far from the house. some times I would come in with a good string of suckers white fish and others They were not very good - they all had so many little fine bones. We had a Chinese Cook sometimes we would try to get him to fry some for us If he was busy he would not clean them he would say me got no time to clean damn fishes. give to hogs they eat um. And thats what went with them generally” (Cox manuscript nd:32-3).
THE STEAM BOAT SHOSHONE “The first steam boat built on the Snake river was built during the summer and fall of 1866. Two enterprising young men conceived the idea of establishing a navigation line to carry passengers and freight from Farewell Bend, near the mouth of Burnt river in Oregon, to Salmon Falls, Idaho. They built a fine little steamer at the mouth of the Boise river or near there. All the machinery, boilers, engins, lumber, and equipment for its construction was brought overland from The Dalles, Oregon whither it had been shipped from Portland.
When it was finished and all ready they started on their first voyage up the river to their objective point. To their great disappointment they cound not make it over Swan Falls and had to give it up as a mistake.
They brought it down stream to a point on the opposite side of the river from the Fruit ferry buildings where a channel of the river makes a bend around a small island about 50 yards east of the present bridge. There they tied her up. It remained there till the river was high in the spring of 1868 when they took her down through the great Snake river canyon on to the Columbia river thence to Portland where she was put into active service on the Willamette river. When she was finished she was christened the “Shoshone.” She was a dandy boat with her white painted sides and decks. I have been on the Shoshone many times while she lasy at anchor. Her Caretaker, George Molthrop, came across the river to our place quite often, and though he was supposed to board and lodge on the steamer, he frequently took meals at our place for a change. On returning he would generally take us boys back for a visit with him at his home on the boat” (The Idaho Statesman Sunday Morning October 15, 1933) “and treat us to nice things that was in the boats locker - Rasins - nuts - candy store crackers and other truck. Once he took our womenfolks, children and all: over to see the boat. he showed us all through it - and treated every one. The steamer was well stocked with food to serve the passengers they expected to carry. ... she surely looked pretty - with her newly painted decks and sides and tall smoke stacks painted black and slick. Us children surely loved to go over to the boat and chase around the decks. I liked to stand by the railing and fish with a long line off the side of the boat” (Cox manuscript nd:33-4).
1873 “In the spring of 1873 father sold the Dixie ranch to Riley and Henry, my older brothers, and bought a farm eight miles west of Boise City on the main road down the valley, and one mile east of the present town of Eagle. This was an improved farm with a lovely home. Our family occupied it for many years, then it was sold and we moved to Caldwell Idaho. While at the farm home I spent a great deal of time in school. There was a good district school near my home which I attended and also the public school in Boise City. During the yearts I was on the farm I taught school in several country districts” (Cox Owyhee Outposts No. 3 1972 April).
1878 INDIAN DISTURBANCE “Back in 1878 trouble arose be tween the Indians and the white people and company F of the Idaho Third volunteers of Green Meadows precinct was formed to protect the lives and property of the people of Boise valley.
The white people in some ways were greatly to blame for the outbreak of the Bannock Indians in the war of 1878, for they took possession of what the Indians claimed as their own lands and hunting grounds, which included the beautiful Camas prairie country, the Indians’ summer home. The white people took the Camas crops for spring and summer feed and pasture for hogs and other livestock. This interfered with the Indians’ hunting and fishing, the rights
10 which they had held for ages.
The Indians feared if they didn’t make some move to protect themselves and their rights, that in a comparatively short time they would actually be forced to give up their beloved country and drift to some untried region.
While their own little tribe was too small to undertake an extermination of the whites they decided to make a quiet move to the west and make a union with their friends, the Umatillas in Eastern Oregon and a general war could be made on the whites.
So they began gathering their warriors, murdered several white men who were on the prairie and went south across the desert country to Snake River where they crossed at the Three Island Ford just below Salmon Falls. A story of their moves has been recorded by John R. Gilbert, a freighter on the road from Kelton, Utah to Boise.
“There seemed to be quite a bunch of warriors traveling in advance of the main force,” he said. “When two or three miles from the road, they sighted our freight outfit, consisting of two eight horse teams traveling toward the river at Pains Ferry. They at once increased their speed, we jumped off our wagons, got our horses loosened from the wagons and put them into a dead run for the ferry. When we got across the river we were safe. The Indians plundered [bottom line not printed?] they wanted and destroyed and burned everything else. There were several cases of heavy rifles and cartridges which they appropriated with great glee. The wagons were loaded with freight for Frank R. Coffin and brother at Boise.”
These Indians went on down the river, doing considerable damage in the Bruneau country. As a rule they were not very well armed. Most of their guns were of the cap and ball variety with a sprinkling of various types of breach- loading rifles.
On arriving in Eastern Oregon, they got in serious trouble with the whites who engaged them in several scraps. Buffalo Horn, the Indian leader, was killed.
The Umatillas failed to join them in war, so they gave up their campaign and began a return trip to their former haunts. They moved slowly up the Snake River and small bands of warriors infested the valleys and mountain sections, killing several people. One of the victims was Billie Hemingway, a driver on the Boise-Silver City stage. Others were Chinamen on a ranch on lower ReynoldsCreek and several miners in the mountain country farther south.
When the outrage connenced, Governor Brayman of Idaho Territory, issued orders of immediate organization of volunteer companies on the Boise and Payette Valleys. The first company was organized at Boise under the command of Rube Robbins.
The next company down the valley was the Green Meadow Company F. Hon. H.J.Maxon, a prominent resident of the community, was selected as captain of our company. He was a vetran Indian fighter in the wars of southern Oregon in the early 50s and was anxious to again get a chance at the “red devils” as he called them. Our company numbered 40 men and officers.
Companies were also formed at Middleton and at Dixie where Fort Tom Johnson was built.
The excitement was growing rapidly. Many rumors and harrowing reports were circulated mostly without any foundation whatever, but people were ready to believe anything they heard if it sounded dangerous.
Rude forts were hastily built at Dixie, Middleton and other places where the people rushed for protection at night. Down the valley for 15 or 20 miles, families went to Boise where they took refuge inside the high board fence enclosing the fair grounds at the west end of the city.
When the call was dispatched by the governor for volunteers, these companies met at Thurman Mills, a well-known point five miles down the river from Boise on the south side. We were equipped with arms, amunition, camp supplies and rations, and furnished our own mounts.
A mess wagon was loaded with the regulation hardtack, bacon and coffee. Governor Brayman was on hand overseeing arrangements and looking to the comforts of the boys. Reports kept coming in by scouts that the Indians were doing great damage, killing people and destroying property.
The company was to proceed at once and engage the main body of warriors that were traveling eastward through the country south along the Snake River. When all was ready Capt. Maxon gave orders to the officers to move in haste to the Dorsey Ferry as he thought they could intersect the main body of warriors at that point. However, only a small part of our command got near the river as the following shows. James Cox, who was a lieutenant in the company, reported:
11 “After an all night ride the company went into camp at a water hole on Indian Creek. For some reason best known to himself, the captain dispatched myself with six picked men to proceed to the ferry and make investigations as to the movements of the enemy. We traveled as fast as possible across the sage desert and approached the rim rock overlooking the great Snake River.
Leaving our horses in care of one of our party we crept to the edge of the lava cliff. In looking down we took in the whole situation at once. The bottom, on both sides of the river, was literally alive with Indians and horses. They were busily engaged in crossing the whole outfit to the north side, or the side we were on. They appeared to be eight or 10 hundred strong.
My party were riding good horses and though we would be in for a fast ride if we were discovered, we were very anxious for something real to happen and cause some excitement. As we lay there on our stomachs and talked we loaded our rifles. When all was ready five old government 50s needle guns poured a volley of hot lead right into their thickest ranks.
Now talk about excitement - About a dozen of the best warriors mounted their ponies and started up the wagon road grade to the table land where we were. As soon as we saw them start we mounted our horses and struck across the desert. Witnin a few minutes they were up on the level with us, but we were quite a distance ahead. On they came in hot pursuit. They kept it up for several miles. When our party came near the Dorsey Butte it separated, part going on one side, the others going on the opposite. When our pursuers saw this move they halted and gave up the chase. We made good our escape and joined the command at camp, yet on Indian Creek.
We reported to the captain what we had seen and done. He got very excited and said he wished he had a hundred men as good as those who were with him, he ‘sure would make the feather headed rascals hunt the sage hills.’
However the command broke camp and traveled up Indian Creek to Obe Corders Station. There we struck the Overland Stage Road and followed it to Jackson Station on Rattle Snake Creek. Indians were sighted at different times along the road and shots were exchanged.
On arriving at Jackson Station we found a few people, men, women and children forted up in a circular fort built of lava rocks having two floors, an upper and a lower, or ground, floor, which the women and children occupied. The upper floor was used by the men as a barricade in case of attack. It was built with port holes all around so the inmates could fire at the besiegers from every angle. The Indians had been approaching nearer and exchanging shots with the pickets and guards.
Mr. Jackson, owner of the station, had his horse shot from under him the day before we arrived, by a small band of warriors. After his horse was killed he got behind the rocks and threw up a kind of breastwork. He had a good rifle and plenty of cartridges that he made it very warm for the enemy so they passed him up. Otherwise he would have been slain. They did not quit him, however, until they drove off a bunch of his fine horses.
From the station we took up their trail till we caught up with them and made good “Injuns” of what we could catch in the chase. The following day our command joined forces with the Rocky Bar Volunteer Troopers, who had started in pursuit of the Indians, under the command of Mel Campbell. Our company, now being reinforced, took up the chase in real earnest.
The warrior forces were also greatly increased. We followed them in hot pursuit to the head of Long Tom Creek where they went into a rough canyon, thinking the troops would follow them but our old captain thoroughly knew Indians and did not choose to be ambushed or trapped in such a place and did not follow.
Col. Egbert with a detachment of government troops was somewhere in the background. No one seemed to know where. Capt. Maxon dispatched Lt. Cox, my brother, and a scout by the name of Bliss to find him if possible, as our forces were greatly outnumbered according to reports by our scouts.
After two days of hard riding they found him with two companies of cavalry and one of infantry. They had a message from our captain to Col. Egbert to proceed at once if it was possible as the Indians were in large force in a canyon. But Egbert would not move a foot without orders from Gen. Howard, who with his government troops was at Wuinnemucca, Nev.
By this great delay the Indians made good their escape out of the canyon and were beyond our reach. They were headed for their reservation in eastern Idaho” (probably The Idaho Statesman Sunday Morning 1941 Feb 7).
“Most of Captain Maxon’s troops started for their homes back in Boise Valley. On the way back they encountered several small parties of Indians but they were getting out of the way as fast as possible.
12 The troops came by the Kelly Hot Springs five miles above Boise City and there got word that a hostile band of Redskins had been doing depredations in eastern Oregon, had crossed the Snake River at the mouth of the Boise and had commenced the destruction of everything. So they hurried on to Boise and were met there by a prominent citizen, John Lemp, who gave the same information. They went in haste through the city and were just leaving when they were informed that all the people in the upper part of the valley were forted up at the fairgrounds. They did not see a person as they were traveling in the night, having left Boise late in the evening.
When I returned home from the company I found that my father had taken mother and sister, Ellen, to Boise where they established a camp inside the high board fence enclosing the fairgrounds.
There was a great war scare throughout the valley. Everyone was expecting to be murdered. We took everything out of the house including provisions, clothing, bedding, most everything of much value. We cached the goods in the bush and tallweeds along the banks of a slough about 40 rods from the house. We retained some bedding that we used for temporary beds when we stayed at night just across the road from the house. There was a board fence and tall weeds at the edge of a field of wheat that made a fine blind where we were hidden from view from the road. There father, myself and a young man that worked for us spent the nights for about two weeks with our needle guns and cartridges ready to do our stuff in case any Redskins appeared.
The weather was very hot and the pesky mosquitos were so hungry that sleep was about impossible before the early morning hours.
One night about 10 o’clock a big grass fire was raging along the foothills north of the valley for four or five miles. Nearly all the families had left their homes and gone to places of saftey before. When the fire got a good start the few families that were left in the valley got terribly scared - thought sure the Indians were setting fire to the whole country.
It was not long before we could hear rumbling noises of wagons over the pebbly road and soon they began to pass our place, which was two miles above where the town of Eagle is now located. It was [bottom line did’nt print] stop some of them to find out what was happening farther down the valley but they could not be halted.
There was all kinds of rigs passing, mostly teams and wagons with hay or grain racks - the driver standing up in front and the women and children with a few things were trying to hold the rough boards of the rack down and in most cases the horses were in a dead run.
By the next morning the fire had died out and things were quiet. It was evident it had been set by Indians as moccasin tracks were discovered near where it started. There was a breeze blowing that carried the fire eastward toward Dry Creek and Spring Valley but did not reach any of the ranches.
In those days there was a thick growth of bunch grass and other vegetation and the time of the fire was as dry as tinder, it made a great showing especially at night. We did not hear of fires being set anywhere else though we continued to stay with our bunks behind the fence. About 4 o’clock one day after the big fire myself and our hired man saddled our horses and started on a scouting trip down the valley to find out if anything was really happening.
As we went down the road to old Middleton we did not see a living person except at one ranch - the home of two old people by the name of Lathan, with whom I was acquainted. As we came near the house I saw there was someone at home. As I came to the door the old lady met me and invited us in. I told her I was very surprised to find she had not gone with her neighbors to a place of saftey. No, she had not gone and besides she was not going either. The kind old lady gave us a nice supper and feed of grain for the horses. After talking for a while we explained why we were taking this late ride and then bid her goodby.
All the way down the road people and [had?] hastily left their homes. Fences were down, gates wide open, cows and calves were together, and the pigs were roaming at their will in the yards and the gardens.
We crossed the river at the old town of Middleton over to the George Wootan ranch. We saw several men there but no one seemed to know of any Indian trouble in the lower valley. We rode on about six miles to my brothers, Riley and Henry’s ranches. It was well into the night and no one at home. I told my comrade that we would go up in the pasture where the tall rye grass was thickest and roll up in our coats and saddle blankets and stay until morning. And this we did.
In the morning just after sunrise we saw the folks coming with their team and wagon with a hayrick that they rode in. They had spent the night at Fort Tom Johnson.
We stayed at the ranch for a day and rested then returned home where the grain harvest [bottom line did’nt print] (probably The Idaho Statesman Sunday Morning 1941 Feb 14).
13 c1880 “After the farm home was sold, father and mother were settled in their new home, I took up the trade of carpenter and builder. During my time I had gained quite a knowledge of wood working. I fell in with a young fellow just out from the state of Maine. We became fast friends by being together on hunting and fishing trips. He was a good carpenter and was a good instructor for me. We worked together and finally formed a partnership in carpentry and building. We went to Nampa with Jim McGee and other of his friends and founded the town of Nampa. My partner and I took up land, located homesteads and other sites. We spent several years holding down and making final proofs on our claims. I established the first lumber yard in the new town and furnished building material for most of the house building for several years in the town and adjacent country. I resided there for five or six years.
Times got exceedingly bad and I got rather discouraged and took up prospecting and mining for quite a while. I did not find that very profitable so I went to Caldwell in 1899. I lived with my mother who was alone, my father had passed away five years before, and she needed my help as she was getting feeble. I took care of her and worked at my carpenter trade. Two years later I decided to get married as I had found the girl of my choice, Miss Mary E. Jenkins, formerly of Malad City, Idaho, but a resident of my town, so we married December 15, 1904” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:3).
Mother passed away in 1906. We continued to live at the old home and are here at the present date” (Cox [auto]biography typescript nd:3).
LITERATURE CITED
Cox, Anderson M. 1972. The biography of Anderson Cox. Owyhee Outposts April 1972 (3):5-11. 4pp. This appears to be an autobiography, dated 1947 Sept 2, his 87th birthday. Most is identical with the typescript used here.
______nd. Typescript entitled Biography of Anderson Cox in possession of Alice Smith. It appears to have come from Jennie Cornall of Middleton and possibly predates the version above. Also on file with The Idaho Genealogical Society, Boise Idaho.
______nd. Manuscript Short stories from the child life of Anderson M. Cox. In possession of Alice Smith and on file with The Idaho Genealogical Society.
______1926 June. Speaking of Pioneer Days of Idaho. Paper writted at the request of Pocahontas Chapter, DAR, Caldwell Idaho.
______1933. The Idaho Statesman Sunday Morning October 15 1933. Two or three installments preceeding this.
______1941. Troubles of Bannock Indian Wars instigated First Idaho Volunteers. Unidentified newspaper 1941 Feb 7.
Anon. After last Indian uprising in valley excitement, fear of murder receded. Unidentified newspaper probably 1941 Feb 14.
Stachen, Wilma Lewis 1963. Owyhee County Gleanings. Idaho Genealogical Society Quarterly VI(1-4).
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