Hanged at Baker
By Cowboy George
One little, two little, three little Indians; four little, five little, six little Indians, seven little, eight little, nine little Indians and that is how many Indians and even more lined the cliff looking down at the trail that passed through the wash to the Indian's village. As the cowboys and rancher looked up from the trail below they could see gun barrels pointing at them. This was no social call, and both the Indians and cowboys knew this. To prevent further trouble, the cowboys carried a white flag. The canyon was located about 10 miles north of Baker, Nevada. In 1900, the canyon didn't have a name, but now locals call it Dead Man's Canyon.
When my wife and I visited the small hamlet of Baker, Nevada, we were looking for something or somebody we could write a story about. Several people told us to go see Joe Eldridge and his wife, Virginia~"they have lots of stories," and they're almost 90 years old.
We drove down Main Street of Baker, which was all of two blocks long. By the looks of Main Street, it had everything an old western town should have except a dirt Main Street.
We turned right at the last street headed west.
Joe and Virginia lived in a double-wide trailer which was shaded by mature trees and in the yard was an old sheep camp and several old traps and wagon wheels~and other antique relics of Joe's life.
We introduced ourselves as the publishers of the Ghost Town Gazette, the old west history newspaper. We asked if they knew about the Indian that was hanged in town around the turn of the century.
As the words flowed from Joe's memories, a dog jumped up on the porch and Joe said, "That dog has cowsh!# all over him. Get him off the porch. Look at that, he's only got three feet. I had a cat with a missing foot. I set a few traps around the yard to catch a skunk but I caught my cat instead. His foot finally dried up and fell off."
I told Joe that my dog, also, got caught in a trap, but his paw didn't fall off. I had to cut it off with hoof nippers ~ it was smelling too bad.
Joe told us, "I spent 40 years a sheep-herder and 40 years a cowboy and 10 years decidin' what to do."
I mentioned to Joe that I had a friend named Bruce Condie who lived in Garrison, Utah, which was a short distance from Baker and asked if he knew of him.
"Yep, I knew him. He's dead now, but when he was alive he always would say he would pee on my grave. But I outlived him and I peed on his grave many times."
I could tell by Joe's remarks that age didn't dull his memory one bit...and I was about to get a good story.
Joe told us that a little before he was born they were having problems with the Goshute Indians. One time the Indians were circling the house and his mother, sister and little brother, George, were inside. Little George snuck out and went up the wash to the canyon where his father and hired hands were working. They approached the Indians at a full gallop and the Indians ran off. No trouble happened that time.
The Goshutes had made war in the 1860s and the retribution handed out by the U.S. Cavalry had made them very, very careful about ever going to war again.
Whole villages of Goshutes were annihilated and all of eastern Nevada and western Utah had been turned into a vast Indian death trap by the blue-coated troopers.
In Baker, an Indian was telling a cowboy that he knew where a gold mine was in the mountains north of town. The cowboy was very interested and with delusions of grandeur, he was trying to get the Indian to tell him where the gold mine was.
The cowboy had a new outfit which consisted of saddle, gun and a good looking horse.
The Indian knew there was no gold, but he wanted the cowboy outfit, so when they approached a canyon leading to an area far enough away from earshot, he shot and killed the cowboy and took his outfit.
Little did the Indian know that the outfit he got for nothing, he would have to pay for with a 20-foot lariat.
A few days later, the Indian showed up back in Baker with the cowboy's outfit and was noticed by several local people who became quite concerned about the cowboy's whereabouts. The Indian escaped to the confines and safety of his village.
The locals organized a posse and went in search of the lost cowboy. They found the body in a canyon leading to the Indian village. Several bullet holes told a story of murder. The canyon was named Dead Man's Canyon after the cowboy. Not much of an epitaph for any man.
The Indian with the cowboy's outfit was the only suspect and the posse was on the "war path."
We guessed the Indian told the Chief a false story of how he acquired the horse, saddle and gun. When the posse approached the village from the canyon below, the Indians were waiting with an ambush about to happen.
When the posse approached the Indians, they raised a white flag and then told the Chief and the tribal elders the true story.
The Chief turned the Indian over to the posse and he was brought back to Baker and received remission for his sins by being hanged by the neck until dead. Trees were almost non-existent in early Baker, so the gate frame to the big ranch in the center of town served the purpose.
Joe's wife, Virginia, told us that the local Indians usually took on the name of the rancher or name of the farm they worked for.
She didn't remember the name of the Indian they hanged, but she does remember an Indian family by the name of Joseph. These Indians now live in Las Vegas.
There are no Indians living in the Baker area today. They say soon after the hanging, most of the remaining Indians were run out of the area.
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