The Colorado miners, like those of the other boom camps, had been loud in their demand for transportation. To satisfy this, overland traffic had been organized on a large scale, while during 1862 the stage and freight service of the plains fell under the control of Ben Holladay. Early in August, 1864, Holladay was nearly driven out of business. About the 10th of the month, simultaneous attacks were made along his mail line from the Little Blue River to within eighty miles of Denver. In the forays, stations were sacked and burned, isolated farms were wiped out, small parties on the trails were destroyed. At Ewbank Station, a family of ten "was massacred and scalped, and one of the females, besides having suffered the latter inhuman barbarity, was pinned to the earth by a stake thrust through her person, in a most revolting manner; ... at Plum Creek ... nine persons were murdered, their train, consisting of ten wagons, burnt, and two women and two children captured.... The old Indian traders ... and the settlers ... abandoned their habitations." For a distance of 370 miles, Holladay's general superintendent declared, every ranch but one was "deserted and the property abandoned to the Indians."

Fifteen years after the destruction of his stations, Holladay was still claiming damages from the United States and presenting affidavits from his men which revealed the character of the attacks. George H. Carlyle told how his stage was chased by Indians for twenty miles, how he had helped to bury the mutilated bodies of the Plum Creek victims, and how within a week the route had to be abandoned, and every ranch from Fort Kearney to Julesburg was deserted. The division agent told how property had been lost in the hurried flight. To save some of the stock, fodder and supplies had to be sacrificed,--hundreds of sacks of corn, scores of tons of hay, besides the buildings and their equipment. Nowhere were the Indians overbold in their attacks. In small bands they waited their time to take the stations by surprise. Well-armed coaches might expect to get through with little more than a few random shots, but along the hilltops they could often see the savages waiting in safety for them to pass. Indian warfare was not one of organized bodies and formal manoeuvres. Only when cornered did the Indian stand to fight. But in wild, unexpected descents the tribes fell upon the lines of communication, reducing the frontier to an abject terror overnight.

The Last American Frontier — Part 128