ArizonaRealCountry.com 41 September 2018 The Range War continued from page 38 miscreants blacklisted by the WSGA board. To their everlasting shame, the state leadership including their elected governor and senior senator not only knew of this mission of death, they also approved it! Their planning was secretive and on the surface fool-proof but as with the planning of many other tyrants and bullies, the reality was much different than the scheme and the plot. For many of these hired gunmen were not only precursors of the "gang who couldn't shoot straight, it would soon be quite obvious that Frank Wolcott, former Union Army officer was totally unfit to command. He had openly quarreled with Canton, and the hired Texas gunmen stood with Canton over this pompous Yankee upstart. Furthermore, for as it would turn out, it took one small ranch, the very first one in their path to stop them, and that was the KC ranch of their number one enemy, Nate Champion. The invading party spent the evening of April 8, 1892, surrounding Champion's cabin, waiting till daybreak to make their move. At dawn, the tired gunmen noticed one old man coming out to get water from the nearby stream. It was an elderly trapper named Ben Jones, an acquaintance of Champion's who was quickly taken prisoner. Luckily for Jones, he was able to prove that he wasn't a rustler. A friend of Jones, a fellow trapper named Bill Walker was also seized and held prisoner. When Champion's partner, a big cowpoke named Nick Ray became suspicious and went outside of the cabin to investigate what happened to the trappers, one of the Texas gunmen shot him down. At this point Champion rushed out, grabbed Ray, and under a rain of rifle fire brought the mortally wounded man back inside the cabin. The fight was on, with just one man, Nathan D. Champion all by himself holding off Wolcott, Teschemacher, Canton, Irvine, their 50 gunmen plus their sympathetic press pals for almost twelve hours. For the first two hours, the gunmen leisurely exchanged shots with Champion and then broke off the firing for a spell while conferring with Wolcott about what to do next. Wolcott argued - successfully - that they needed to "take care" of Champion and the dying Ray first before proceeding on to Buffalo. While they argued, Champion was able to jot down his thoughts in a little diary that he had kept nearby. It was the final testament of a brave man knowing he was going to die, who remained calm and did not despair. In those first three hours, around 9 a.m. Nick Ray succumbed to his wounds. The desultory firing began again around noon and then increased around 3 p.m. with a greater sense of urgency on the part of the invaders - for they had been discovered by chance by another man on their "wanted" list. Jack Flagg was a local Cowboy who had also stood up to the WSGA and was very well-known to them. He and his stepson were driving their wagon north in the direction of Buffalo when they came upon the attackers milling about the road outside of Champion's cabin. Mistaking them for friends, Flagg hollered, "Hey, It's me. Jack Flagg! Jack Flagg!" and was promptly met by a fusillade of gunfire. His stepson cut the ropes keeping the horses tied to the wagon. Then he grabbed the reins and both he and Flagg were able to ride away unscathed on the horses, practically "flying" like a bat out of hell to sound the alarm to Sheriff Red Angus and the people of Buffalo. But they had left the wagon behind. In the meantime Champion who had noticed the gunmen firing on Flagg's wagon, mentioned this in his diary while still trying to keep the invaders away. He kept them at bay for several more hours until daylight began to fade. At this point the tired, increasingly dis-spirited invaders, having noticed that angry, armed crowd of almost 100 Cowboys and homesteaders who were now fully aware of the WSGA extermination list to march out and meet them - which they did on the 11th at the TA Ranch just south of Buffalo - and promptly surrounded the invading force. For nearly 48 hours the invaders were besieged on the grounds of the TA Ranch, their ammunition and supplies dwindling. And while they suffered few wounded, they knew that if Angus and his force were to break through, they would all end up as Champion and Ray did. But one of the reporters accompanying the now besieged invaders was able to get free, ride into Buffalo and send a desperate telegram that had been written up by the Harvard graduate Teschemacher to the state governor, who in turn almost immediately cabled President Benjamin Harrison begging for the use of the U.S. Cavalry to end the siege of those very same gunmen the state government, in connivance with the WSGA, had allowed to go on their killing spree. At 6:45 a.m. on the morning of April 13, 1892, three troops of the U.S. 6th Cavalry under the command of Colonel J.J. Van Horn, with Lieutenant Charles Gatewood (who was chiefly responsible for the capture of Geronimo over five years earlier) riding alongside, arrived on the scene, whereupon Major Wolcott strode up to Colonel Van Horn, and spoke to him in an arrogant tone right in front of Sheriff Angus saying, "I will surrender to you. But to this man (Sheriff Angus), never!" Thus ended the Johnson County War. . .but did it? Again, prominent, wealthy Cattlemen went on trial and again these Cattlemen were (temporarily) able to prove, as in the case of those who murdered Averell and Ella Watson that crime did pay. None of the WSGA leadership, whether they be Wolcott, Teschemacher, Irvine or Canton were ever prosecuted or served jail time, much less forced to face the gallows for their misdeeds. In fact, for a time it was business as usual for the WSGA. Offended by local newspaperman Asa Mercer's scorching expose of their invasion - "The Banditti of the Plains" - they got their henchmen to go after the courageous editor and publisher, going so far as to smash up his printing press and wreck his newsroom. In fact, they went so far as to go into the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. and mutilate the copy of Mercer's book shelved there. They were even able to run Mercer out of town, and while not harming him, caused him to end any hopes of resuming a career editing and publishing newspapers. Times though had changed and these victories, the perpetrators going free and the censorship of Mercer's book, were Pyrrhic victories at best, for within a year the political machine that had backed the WSGA had been defeated at the polls and by then even more enlightened leaders of the invasion such as Teschemacher, conceded that the small ranchers, the Cowboys, had rights too. The WSGA was opened up to all cattlemen, even those whom they considered to be rustlers before. Of course, Teschemacher was not on hand to witness the proletarian takeover of his beloved WSGA as he had chosen to leave Wyoming for good. As did Frank Canton, who as aforementioned went to work for the law in Oklahoma Territory ( even as a more dangerous gunfighter showed up in Wyoming - a man by the name of Tom Horn). Still, the bitterness would remain in Buffalo, in Cheyenne, and throughout Wyoming for the next century - and while one might say Nate Champion, Jim Averell, and Ella Watson won out in the end and were exonerated, it remains too early to state whether or not their souls are resting in peace. Flagg's wagon had been left behind, piled it high with hay and wooden posts, then set it alight and pushed it down towards the door of Champion's cabin. Here is the final entry of Nate Champion: "Well, they have just got through shelling the house again like hail. I heard them splitting wood. I guess they are going to fire the house tonight. I think I will make a break for it when night comes, if alive. Shooting again. I think they will fire the house this time. It's not night yet. The house is all fired. Goodbye, boys, if I never see you again." — Nathan D. Champion At this point Champion's narrative ends as he grabbed his Winchester, pushed opened the doors to his cabin and vainly tried to make his escape, firing his Winchester until it was shot out of his hands, then he fell dead, riddled with bullets to the chest and to his heart. One of the first men to come up upon the body of Champion was none other than Frank Canton, who noticed the small diary nearby. For whatever reason Canton chose NOT to throw the diary into the flames that were then consuming Champion's cabin, but turned it over to one of the reporters who had accompanied the invaders. Perhaps that same moral compass that would later guide Canton as a respectable lawman and Deputy U.S. Marshal hunting down the Doolin-Dalton gang with Bill Tilghman and Heck Thomas took hold, or maybe it was just a final sign of respect for someone he had known in his younger days. No matter, for Champion's last testament became of the most honored and most poignant narratives in the history of the Old West. At this point, it might have been wiser for the success of the invasion if the invaders had pushed on to Buffalo. But once again, displaying his desire for comfort and a character trait of ineptitude that proved to be fatal to the success of the killing mission, Major Wolcott resumed command of the invading force and made them stop and rest while Flagg, who had managed to get to Buffalo, had sounded the alarm. As they rested, Sheriff Angus was massing an aroused, Frank M. Canton, not a virtuous, law-abiding lawman but a feared gunfighter who played both sides of the law.