Volume 6, Number 7 - Spring 1978
Waldo Powell Writes Dewey Bald Legend
A little over a hundred years ago when Greene County extended as far south as the northern border of Arkansas, embracing the present counties of Stone and Taney, the territory of these latter counties was very sparsely settled. These people, who migrated here from the states farther east, came in quest of rich soil and a mild climate and where the streams and forest abound with fish and game.
The latter was necessary to sustain their existence while they cleared away the rank timber from the river bottoms preparatory to planting and raising a crop to tide them and their livestock through the winter months.
Farther east along the seaboard state the population had increased and the land had been taken up to such an extent that the original game and fish were becoming scarce and the friendly Indian tribes were being robbed of their hunting grounds. The Federal Government thought to take care of them by setting a suitable tract of land aside where they located the different tribes of allotments where the Indians could make permanent homes. The land selected was called the Indian Territory and embraced what is known today as the state of Oklahoma; the eastern boundary was the western boundary of Greene County.
One of the tribes so take care of was the Delawares who accepted an allotment and a route was mapped out for them and they began their slow migration. More than likely the trip which was more than a thousand miles may have taken in those days several years. However, as time meant little or nothing to the Indian and less to Uncle Sam the incident had been all but forgotten by all but the white settlers who were very much concerned to see the Indians move in and prepare to locate permanently. Different branches of the tribe were settled in the villages all along the James and White rivers from the present sight of Springfield to Forsyth. When they were asked as they often were, how long they were going to stay, they indicated as best they could, always. They said that according to treaty with the Great White Fathers at Washington that this was their land forever. When they were asked if they could be mistaken they said, No! it answered every description of the land deeded to them - to wit, plenty of fish and game, clear streams, wood to make wigwams, boats, bows and arrows and fire to keep away the winter cold; rich soil where the squaws could tend the corn. No! the land is ours and we will fight before we will give it up.
About this time the Government decided to take a hand and dispatch a trouble shooter in the person of Captain Dewey, a military man, to visit the Indians and persuade them, if he could, to move on into the territory, the land originally set aside for them.
At the time our family came to this country there were several of the older settlers still living here that had seen Dewey; as many as two of them had been well acquainted with him, and it was the general belief that he was a kind of hermit that lived over on big bald mountain just east of the Stone and Taney County line, so they named the mountains, Dewey’s Bald. Most of them believed he lived in a cave on the side of the mountain, but one man told me that he had a two roomed log house and that it was on top of the mountain; I am inclined to believe that was correct, because there is a place there that looks very much like a small building might have been burned there a long time ago.
During the time that Dewey was negotiating with the Indians, he was thinking of the safety of the settlers and looking about for a suitable place to build a block house and a kind of fort, that the settlers could be moved into on short notice in case of an attack from the Indians; so he selected Table Rock Bluff near the mouth of Fall Creek on the White River, where a narrow point of land projected off from the main ridge towards the river; the sides of this strip of land was almost straight up and down; the top overlooking the river was a huge flat rock with an elevation of something like four hundred feet above the valley, and by barricading the narrow approach from the main ridge, they could enclose several acres of land that contained a spring that would supply water for the people and their stock.
One night in the early autumn, a light rain had been falling during the day; the first after a long dry spell; however a temporary break in the clouds had allowed the harvest moon to flood the mountain tops with golden light. Dewey had retired and had carefully covered the few smoldering embers in
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the fireplace to be sure of coals for the cooking of the next mornings breakfast. Already there was slowly simmering in a tall stock kettle, that hung from the hook attached to the arch rock over the fire, a joint of venison, surrounded by hominy made of native corn.
He was aroused by a voice, or so he imagined, so he stepped over and opened the door and there standing in front of him was a boy well drenched and thinly clad, timidly peering through shoulder length matted hair. Such a night and at such a time, Dewey was caught off his guard and he forgot about his pose of a deaf mute and welcomed the boy to the comforts that a roof and fire presented at such a time. Sam Dewey said, "come right in stranger, how come you to be out in such a night, are you lost?" and he pushed a block of wood for a seat close by the hearth and proceeded to make a light by placing split sections of a pine knot on the fire. "Now that we have a little light I judge you are hungry, I’ll get you something to eat." Taking a half of a gourd from the mantle together with a smaller gourd of the handled variety to serve as a ladle, he dipped a generous helping of hominy together with a ration of venison and passed it to his visitor, who lost no time in devouring it. During this interlude the visitor had said nothing, but his eyes had taken in his surroundings; the fireplace, the iron kettle, a dutch oven and a flint and steel. In the end of the house was the fireplace, and at the other end, the only place where the roof was high enough to accommodate, there was an immense pair of antlers that served for a rack to hold Deweys gunpowder horn, shot pouch and the leather bag containing the miners pick.
Curious about the lad, Dewey introduced himself and asked his name and where he lived; the warm food partially restored his confidence and to a degree his voice that had a rather squeaky note: "Me, Jimmy, Jimmy Hardin. live everywhere." A pile of hay and a tanned bear skin served Jimmy for a bed; he was soon asleep.
Dewey woke next morning, a fire was crackling on the hearth, he noticed the empty bed and was wondering if the boy had left, but soon the door opened and Jimmy came in with an arm load of wood that he put down by the fireplace.
A few days later Jimmy outfitted with a new pair of moccasins on his feet a bag containing jerked venison and parched corn to feed him for a couple of days journey was entrusted with a very important mission of arrangement, for a meeting of some of the men that represented the white settlers with Dewey where they planned for the defense in case of an attack from the Indians.
Most of the men were to go and build the block houses on Table Rock Bluff, two were to go on horseback to the nearest U.S. Post and bring a keg of powder and the women folks with two or three boys were to meet at Slick Rock Ford on Fall Creek to smelt lead and mould a supply of bullets. Dewey met them at the ford and erected hollow gum trees for smokestacks over stone furnaces and carried down pine knots to burn in the crude smelters; then Dewey took two of the boys with him and two horses and leather bags to carry back the lead. And they went up on the side of Dewey’s Bald and there he removed some earth covering a flat rock that capped the entrance to a cave; with pine knots burning for light they proceeded a short way back into the cave where, while the boys filled the sacks, Dewey broke down almost pure lead and that was taken to the smelters and melted and cast up into bullets. The boys said that before they left the cave, Dewey was careful in replacing a rock over the entrance of the cave and covering the rock with earth as he had found it.
Dewey had found that Jimmy had delivered his message in a trusty manner and was told by the settlers that he was known as Slimpsy Jimmy Hardin, that nothing was known definitely about his parentage; he was one of those children that came into the world like colts found out in the woods; he was known to be queer in the haid; but was harmless and was befriended by the settlers who were glad to welcome him as he brought the latest news and news in those days all traveled entirely by grapevine telegraph.
In conclusion I will say, yes, as a boy I put in quite a bit of time looking for Dewey’s cave, just to get a look and see for myself if Dewey by any chance left any lead, and no, I haven’t found it. But when I do I’ll write another story about that.
P.S. When I started on this article I thought I could put it all down on a couple of sheets of fools cap but in spite of the fact that I have kept chopping out part of the story here and a part there, there still doesn’t seem to be any place to stop, and I might take the time to write in the other parts later on.
Yours truly,
Waldo Powell
Copied from the White River Leader printed by the White River Leader Press - 1923.
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