by the good ship “Cambria” for an extended trip in America to make
acquaintance with “our Trans-Atlantic brethren, and to extend my visit
to the regions still inhabited by America’s aboriginal people--now,
indeed, driven far westward of their rightful territories and pressed
backward into that ocean of prairies extending to the foot of the great
Rocky Mountains.”
Palliser was a young man of good family, the son of Colonel Wray
Palliser, of Comragh, County Waterford. Like so many of his race, he
was energetic, quick-witted, forceful, and possessed a great fund
of humor. He seems to have been first of all a hunter, and like all
successful hunters to have been a keen and close observer. Some time
after his return to England he wrote a book giving his experiences
of adventure in the Far West. It is one of the best books of hunting
adventure ever written--terse, always to the point, modest, giving
facts and conclusions, and very little about his own views of life.
The book has long been out of print and is now not easily obtained,
but it is really a model in the picture that it paints of old-time
conditions and in the self-effacement of the author.
Palliser has long been forgotten. Almost equally forgotten are two of
his shipmates, whose names at one time were familiar enough throughout
the civilized world. These were “General Tom Thumb” and P. T. Barnum,
who was bringing Tom Thumb back to the United States after a season of
exhibition in Europe.
The “Cambria” touched for coal at Halifax and then came on to Boston
and New York, where the traveller stopped at the Astor House, which, he
says, is “far larger than any hotel I ever beheld in the old world.”
From New York he went down to Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cumberland, and
Wheeling, and from there down the Ohio River to the Mississippi and to
St. Louis and New Orleans. His whole journey, though described briefly,
is full of effective touches, and his comments and criticisms are keen
but kindly. To a description of New Orleans he gives some space, and
speaks with cordial warmth of the friendliness and hospitality of the
Creole inhabitants.
From New Orleans he went up the Mississippi and Arkansas (spelled
phonetically Arkansor) Rivers, and spent some time hunting small game,
deer, bear, and, by good fortune, killed a fine panther. A more or less
amusing tale, which Palliser quotes from an experience of his brother a
year before, is worth repeating.
“One day, when comfortably seated with Jackson and his family, in
the neighbourhood of Lake Jefferson, a little nigger come running
in, shouting, ‘Oh, massa! terrible big alligator; him run at me,’
When we got him to speak a little more coherently, it appeared that
he had been bathing in the lake, and that an alligator had suddenly
rushed at him, and when the boy, who luckily was not in deep water,
had escaped by running to land, the brute had actually pursued him
for some distance along the shore. We instantly loaded our rifles
and started off in quest of the monster, accompanied by the boy, who
came as guide. After carefully exploring the bank and reeds, though
unsuccessfully, we concealed ourselves, in hopes of seeing him rise to
the top of the water when he thought the coast was clear; but as we
waited a long time without any result, we proposed what certainly was a
most nefarious project; namely, to make the boy strip off his clothes
and start him into the water again as a bait for the alligator. It was
some time before we could get the boy to come round to our view of the
matter: his objections to our plan were very strong, and his master’s
threats failed completely, as indeed they generally did; for he was the
kindest-hearted man in the world to his negroes. At last I coaxed him
with a bright new dollar. This inducement prevailed over his fears,
and the poor boy began to undress, his eyes all the while reverting
alternately from the water to the dollar, and from the dollar to the
water. We told him we did not want him to go in so deep as to be
obliged to swim. ‘By golly, then, me go for dollare’; and in he walked,
but had hardly reached water higher than his knees, when crash went the
reeds, and the little fellow cut in towards our place of concealment
at an astonishing pace, pursued by the alligator. The savage beast,
as before, came right out on the bank, where we nailed him with two
capital shots through the head, that effectually checked his career. He
struggled violently, but uselessly, to regain his congenial element,
and, after two or three furious lashes of his ponderous tail, sullenly
expired. The triumph of the boy was complete.”
Palliser next went to Louisville, Ky., and after a pause in that State
to inspect the Mammoth Cave, returned to Louisville, where he took the
boat for St. Louis to make preparations for his Rocky Mountain trip. He
locates in St. Louis that excellent story which has been so often told
in the last sixty years about the two great talkers who were matched on
a bet to see which should outtalk the other.
“Old Mr. Cohen was universally considered a great talker, so much
so, that he even admitted it himself; but this evening a formidable
rival appeared against him in the person of a strange character from
Kentucky, who fairly met him on his own ground, and after supper
evinced such unceasing powers of conversation, that old Mr. Cohen was
unable to get in a word, and was fain to claim a hearing. ‘Let me
speak, let me speak,’ he gasped several times but with no avail; till,
at last, the fool’s argument was resorted to, and a bet made which
should talk the longest. An umpire was chosen to determine which of the
two loquacious combatants should be the winner; but, as might naturally
be supposed, none of us had the patience to sit out the contest, so we
went off to bed, leaving a plentiful supply of brandy, sugar, and iced
water. Next morning, at a quarter past five, victory was declared for
Missouri, the umpire returning at that hour and finding the Kentucky
man fast asleep in his arm chair, and old Mr. Cohen sitting up close
beside him and whispering in his ear.”
Palliser soon started for Independence, Mo., the great outfitting
point for the fur trade in those days, when the plains and mountains
were free. At Independence he met Mr. Kipp--James Kipp--one of the
best-known traders of early days and the builder of some of the first
trading posts far up the river. For twenty years before this, it had
been James Kipp’s practice to go down the river in the summer with the
fur company’s flotilla of mackinaw boats, and in the autumn to ride
north again to the mouth of Yellowstone River, a distance of something
like fifteen hundred miles. James Kipp is the bourgeois mentioned by
Catlin as his host among the Mandans when, in 1834, he was painting on
the upper river.
The party that set out from Independence on the 2d of September
numbered seventeen or eighteen, of whom the greater number were French
Creoles and Canadians to whom Palliser pays the wholly deserved
compliment that they were “docile, patient, enduring fellows with
constitutions like iron, well practiced in journeys of this kind and
character.” Their beds and supplies were carried on pack-animals, and
they travelled for some days through a country very thinly settled and
occupied in part by the Mormons. “The last spot where we saw white
faces was the Council Bluffs, the trading post and the residence of
a Government Agent, where we remained a day supplying ourselves with
coffee, sugar, and biscuit, salt pork, and beans, as we did not expect
for some time yet to reach a good hunting country.”
The camps made after they had passed out of the settled region, where
they lived at farm-houses, showed a method of life wholly new to
Palliser, and one which to many Americans is as unknown to-day as
it was to him. “A little before sunset, we unsaddled and unpacked
our horses, placing the packs and saddle of each rider in a separate
pile, at equal distances, so as to form a circular enclosure about ten
paces in diameter; and after watering and ‘hobling’ the horses, i.e.
attaching the fore and hind legs on one side together by means of an
iron chain, with a leathern strap around the fetlock, to prevent their
straying, we turned them loose to graze; not till then considering
ourselves at liberty to attend to our own comforts. Our first business
was, then, to cut and gather wood, and to light a fire in the centre
of the circle, fetching some water in the kettles, and putting the
meat on to cook, and making our beds of saddle-cloths, blankets, and
buffalo robes: this done, we roasted our coffee berries, and having
wrapped them in a piece of deer or buffalo skin, and pounded them in
the stump of a tree with the back of a hatchet, put them in our coffee
pot and boiled them; and the meat being cooked by the time this process
was over, and the coffee made, we fell to with great appetite. After
supper, we lighted our pipes, and then each turned in when he felt
inclined, and, with his feet to the fire, slept as only travellers
in the prairie can sleep. Before day we were up again, unhobled and
watered our horses, loaded the packs, and were all in the saddle by
sunrise.” The morning halt for breakfast was made about eleven o’clock,
the horses were allowed to graze, and at one the train started again,
to travel until dark.
The country through which they were passing had been thoroughly hunted
by Indians, and the camp was out of meat, and had no food except beans.
However, the fall migration of the wild fowl was on; at least the lakes
and streams were occupied by plenty of ducks. Palliser set out with two
of the hunters to try to kill some of these, but found that neither of
the men could shoot on the wing. “It was amusing to see how astounded
they were at my knocking over a fine mallard, that came wheeling over
our heads; they insisted on its being a chance shot, and would not be
persuaded to the contrary, until I brought down several successively;
and at last, with a most satisfactory right and left, silenced their
scepticism completely. They were greatly delighted; ‘_Mais comment
diable, monsieur, faites-vous cela?_’ said one hardy old veteran to
me. I offered to instruct him, but could not get him to fire rapidly
enough, as he was afraid of wasting his ammunition, which was very
expensive.”
On this journey they saw the approach of a prairie fire--a splendid
and terrible sight--but succeeded in cutting it off by back-firing.
The old French voyageurs declare that the Indians were travelling
about. This experience suggested to Palliser a description given him
by a brother sportsman of a fire which he had witnessed. “We had seen,
during the latter part of our day’s journey, a remarkable appearance
in the eastern horizon; and during supper observed a smell of burning,
and a few light cinders fell about the camp, and presently we remarked
that the luminous appearance in the east had very much augmented. There
being a little hill in front of us, we could not see distinctly what
caused it; but having consulted together, we agreed that it proceeded
from a prairie on fire, which, however, was a long way off. About
eight o’clock the smell of burning and the glare having materially
increased, we walked up to the top of the hill, when a spectacle
presented itself to us the most grand that can well be conceived. The
whole horizon, from north to south, was one wall of fire, blazing up
in some places to a great height, at others merely smouldering in
the grass. It was, however, at least, eight miles off; but the wind
seemed to set in our direction, so we instantly returned, and took
measures to preserve the camp. We were in a corner, as it were, on the
bank of the stream, with a good deal of brushwood running up on our
left, and the ground sloping up gradually from the creek to the top of
the hill. Our guides, on looking at the fire, said that it would not
harm us--‘_Ce n’est rien--le vent change_.’ In short, they would do
nothing. In about twenty minutes, however, it approached so near that
there was no time to be lost, and all hands were immediately employed
in burning a road across the face of the hill, so as to stop the fire
at that part. A more picturesque scene could hardly be imagined. The
night was very dark, but as far as the eye could reach, all across the
horizon, about four miles in front of us, was a broad, bright, lurid
glare of fire, with a thick canopy of smoke hanging over it, whose
fantastic wreaths, as they curled in the breeze, were tinged with the
red reflection of the flames. Even at that distance we could hear the
crackling and rushing of the fire, which, as it advanced, caused a
strong wind, and every now and then a brighter flame would shoot high
up into the black cloud of smoke over the top of the hill, illuminating
for an instant our tents and waggons in the dark hollow, and giving a
momentary glimpse of the horses which were picketed on the side of the
rise, on the crest of which the figures of the men engaged in lighting
the opposition fire (which, as it became too extended, they beat down
with blankets, only suffering it to burn a space about twelve feet
broad, right across the line of the advancing conflagration), stood out
in strong relief against the glowing wall of light beyond them; and as
they ran about, tossing their arms, and waving the blankets and little
torches of lighted grass, they looked in the distance like demons
rather than men. We had no time to look at the picturesque, however,
for every moment (owing to their previous obstinacy in neglecting to
take precaution in time) became more pregnant with danger, and by the
time they had burned as much as would only about half cover the camp,
the fire was raging in the bottom at the other side of the hill. I
ran up for an instant to the top, and shall never forget the scene.
Although still half a mile off, the fire seemed close to me, and the
heat and smoke were almost intolerable, while the dazzling brightness
of the flames made it painful to look at them; they were in three
lines nearly parallel, the first of which was just below me, burning
with a rushing noise, and crackling as it caught the dry grass, that
gave an idea of total destruction which it is impossible to convey,
and stretching away over hill and dale for twelve or fourteen miles
on each side of me, lighting up the sides of the hills and the little
groves of wood far away. The two lines in the rear were not so much
connected, and seemed rather licking up any little spots of grass
which had escaped at first. Every now and then a prairie hen would
flirr past, flying in a wild uncertain manner, as if fear had almost
deprived it of the use of its wings; while all the songsters of the
grove were wheeling about among the trees, uttering the most expressive
cries of alarm, and the melancholy hooting of several owls, and wailing
yells of the wolves, together with the shouts and cries of the men,
almost drowned occasionally by the roaring of the flames, added to the
savage grandeur of the scene, and one could have fancied the end of
all things was at hand. On returning to the camp, I found all hands
cutting the lassoes and halters of the mules, some of which galloped
off instantly into the river, where they remained standing till the
hurricane of flame had passed over; the others, seemingly trusting
themselves instinctively more to man than to their own energies in
such an emergency, followed us up the space which we had burned,
and remained quietly there, trembling indeed, but without an effort
to escape. By the time the animals were collected in this spot, the
fire was blazing on the top of the hill, and we all rushed away with
blankets to arrest its progress, if possible, at the part which we had
left unguarded; all our efforts would have been in vain, however, and
our tents and everything else must have been consumed, but that, just
at that weak point, the grass suddenly became thin and scanty, with
much stony ground, and we had the satisfaction of seeing the flames
stopped there and turned off to the northward along the edge of the
brushwood. It was really terrific to be, as we were, trying to break
it down in the very middle of the blaze (which, after all, was so
narrow that where the flames were not high, you could jump across it);
we were, indeed, nearly suffocated by the smoke and heat. As soon as
we perceived the fire turned off, we returned to the camp and horses,
and all danger was over; but the sight of the three lines of fire
stretching up the rising grounds behind the camp, just like the advance
of a vast army, was magnificent; and it was still more extraordinary to
watch the manner in which the fire passed itself on, as it were, over
the tops of the highest trees, to the height of at least forty or fifty
feet. The whole scene lasted altogether about two hours, and nothing
could be conceived more awfully grand. The extraordinary rushing and
crackling sound of the flames was one of the most terrific parts of it,
and when one considers that the grass is nowhere more than five or six
feet high, it is difficult to imagine how the flame blazes up to such
a vast height as it did. The contrast presented, two hours afterwards,
was most striking. Instead of the brilliant glare of the fire, and
lurid appearance of the sky, there reigned an impenetrable darkness,
earth and sky being alike shrouded in a black gloom, which could almost
be felt; not a star was to be seen, and the air retained a suffocating,
sulphureous smell, as if Satan himself had passed over the earth. We
could not distinguish objects at ten paces’ distance, and were right
glad when a fresh breeze came gently breathing over the prairie,
dissipating the murky vapors still hanging in the atmosphere; and a
fine starlit sky, with a sharpish frost, at length relieved us from
the close, choking feeling we had experienced for hours before. This
prairie fire had travelled at the rate of five miles an hour, bringing
with it a strong gale of wind; for, otherwise, the night was quite
calm, both before and after it had passed over.”
At Fort Vermilion the Kipp party found a camp of Sioux who were dancing
in triumph over the scalp of a woman. With these Indians they at once
established friendly relations. The Sioux had a woman captive, whom
Palliser and Kipp purchased and set free. Here some of their best
horses were stolen, not perhaps by the Indians of this camp, but by
others.
Game was scarce and the white men were requested by the Indians who
were about to start out on their autumn buffalo-hunt to travel with
them, and not to move on in advance lest they should frighten the game,
if any were about. The old-time moving of an Indian camp, with its men
marching at the head and on the flanks and the women with their travois
in the column, is well described. Scouts had been sent on in advance
by the Indians to look for buffalo, and orders were given that no one
should pass far beyond the camp.
Palliser went out on foot to try to kill some ducks along a little
stream, and while looking for the birds was startled by the sound of
a gun just behind and the whistle of a bullet passing near his head.
The shot was fired by an Indian not far from him. Palliser ran to him
and threatened to shoot him if he tried to reload his gun. Another
Indian who came up acted as mediator, and explained what had happened.
Palliser had not fully understood the order issued by the chiefs, and
the man who shot at him was no doubt a “soldier,” trying to make the
white man go into camp.
The next day the Indians turned off toward the buffalo and the white
men went on, and not very long after reached Fort Pierre, the site of
the present city of Pierre, S. D. Not long after leaving Fort Pierre,
early in October, they came upon buffalo, which Palliser is careful to
note should be called bison, and on the 27th of October reached Fort
Union, then the chief depot of the American Fur Company’s trade through
the upper Missouri.
II
BUFFALO-RUNNING
Buffalo were plenty and here Palliser had his first run. His views on
buffalo-hunting--that extinct sport--are quite worth quoting:
“Buffalo-hunting is a noble sport, the animal being swift enough to
give a good horse enough to do to close with him; wheeling round with
such quickness as to baffle both horse and rider for several turns
before there is any certainty of bringing him down. Added to which,
there is the danger of being charged by one old bull while in pursuit
of another; this, however, they will not often do, unless when blown
by the awkwardness of a bad hunter, in chasing them too far, when they
turn and get desperate.
“The first object in approaching a herd of buffalo should be, to get
as near as possible before charging them; then, rush in with your
horse at full speed, single out one animal, and detach him from the
herd, which you will soon do, and after a turn or two be able to get
a broadside shot, when you should endeavour to strike him behind the
fore-shoulder. While reloading, slacken your horse’s speed to a hand
gallop. The general method of loading is to empty the charge from the
horn slung round your neck into the palm of your hand, whence you can
more easily pour it down the barrel; you then take a bullet wet out of
your mouth, and throw it down upon the powder; by which means you avoid
the necessity of using the ramrod, a most inconvenient process when
riding fast on horseback. I found it from experience better to dispense
with both powderhorn, ramrod, and copper caps altogether, and use a
light self-priming flint gun, carrying the powder loose in the skirt
pockets of my shooting-coat, and thereby having no further delay than
to thrust my hand in for it and empty it down the barrel of my gun;
accuracy in quantity at such close quarters being of small importance.
Taking the bullet from the mouth is both the quickest and safest
method of loading; quicker than fumbling for it in your pocket, and
safer, because its being wet causes it to stick for a moment without
rolling forward on depressing the muzzle to take aim; and my brother
sportsmen are doubtless aware of the danger of leaving an empty space
in the barrel between the powder and the ball. I would not, however,
recommend any one to depend too much upon the detention of the wet
bullet, but to fire immediately on lowering the muzzle. I ought here
to mention, that in running buffalo, you never bring the gun to your
shoulder in firing, but present it across the pummel of the saddle,
calculating the angle with your eye and steadying yourself momentarily
by standing in the stirrups as you take aim. This is difficult to do
at first, and requires considerable practice; but the facility once
acquired, the ease and unerring steadiness with which you can shoot is
most satisfactory, and any one accustomed to this method condemns ever
afterward the lifting of a gun to the shoulder whilst riding at speed,
as the most awkward and unscientific bungling.
“We drew up our horses, and proceeded to skin and cut up the animals,
and were soon joined by the drays despatched from the fort for the
purpose of taking home the meat. What we had killed that day was very
good and tolerably fat. I have before adverted to the excellence of
bison beef, and the superiority of its fat over that of the domestic
ox; but before leaving the subject, I will state two instances in which
I myself saw this superiority fully established.
“Old Mr. Kipp, at Christmas, thinking to give all the employés and
voyageurs of the Fur Company at Fort Union a great treat, had for
some time previously been fattening up a very nice small-boned heifer
cow, which was killed in due time, in prime condition. All who had
been reckoning on the treat this would afford them, sat down in high
expectation of the ensuing feast; but after eating a little while in
silence, gradually dropped off one by one to the bison meat, which was
also on the table, and were finally unanimous in condemning the beef,
which they said was good enough, but nothing remarkable, and the fat
sickening. A plate-full of it was also given, as ordinary buffalo beef,
to an Indian woman in another room at the fort, on the same occasion:
she pronounced it good food, but, said she, ‘it is both coarse and
insipid’; and the fat, if she were to eat much of it, would make her
sick.