commissioners that I must have a certain Piegan Indian as companion,
and asked them to send a runner to Little Dog, the chief, with a paper,
asking him to send Eagle Eye to Benton as soon as possible. In two days
Eagle Eye was there. I had christened him Jack. I had once saved his
life. He was a cool and brave man, and would die for me if called on to
do so. He had been with me on two former trips.
I was at the agency when Jack arrived, and when I told him what was
wanted of him, he gave a warwhoop that startled the commissioners.
I owned two of the fastest horses in the country, and got two good
horses for Jack. I selected one pack-horse, a fast one which would
follow like a dog. I took some tobacco and some food with which to
feast the Indians, calculating to put about seventy-five pounds on the
pack-horse.
Brief digression may be interesting, and perhaps useful. I had a pair
of Spanish panniers made of canvas or leather fastened together and
hung over the pack-saddle. At the bottom of the off-side pannier was a
four-inch strap ending in a buckle. On the nigh-side pannier a strap
was fastened at the bottom, and these straps were buckled together
under the horse’s belly. This held both panniers down close to the
horse’s body. The panniers can be made of any size, according to the
amount one wishes to pack. Mine would carry one hundred pounds of
assorted goods. In case of emergency, the animal being saddled, you can
place the panniers on the saddle, cinch, mount, and be off in twenty
seconds.
On my best horse I kept day and night an Indian pad-saddle as a
substitute for a riding-saddle. Its weight was ten pounds; the horse
wore a hackamore for a bridle, and the reins were tied to the horse’s
mane. This was a useful precaution in case of being surprised or jumped
by Indians and not having time to saddle. Such an occurrence may take
place notwithstanding all your alertness. My other horse I rode with a
California saddle. Jack was similarly fitted out, except that he had
two Indian pads. I had bought from Judge E. R. Munson the first Henry
rifle that ever came into the Territory, paying him one hundred and six
dollars in gold-dust. I had two .45 calibre Colt’s revolvers. Jack had
a Sharp’s rifle, using paper caps that I had given to him some time
before. I got him two .45 calibre Remington revolvers. He had also his
bow and arrows.
On the second day after Jack’s arrival we packed up at the agency, a
number of persons being present. The commissioners could not understand
why we were so heavily armed, since we were going on a peaceful message
for the government. Their questions and manifest ignorance of Indians
brought a smile to the faces of many of those present, as if a war
party would care what business we were engaged in, or, if they did
care, would stop to ask. After a while we shook hands with our friends
and started. Many of them said, “Look out, Bill, this is likely to be
your last trip,” but I felt that, being armed as we were, no small
party would get the “age” on us.
Jack had told me that a Piegan war party which had returned a few days
before had informed him that the Crows had been camped at Medicine
Springs between the Moccasin Mountains, that being about ninety miles
from Benton as the crow flies, but had moved their village some days
before. He also told me there were three Blackfeet war parties out
after Crows and Gros Ventres. We should have to look out for them. With
this information as to where to pick up the trail, it would be easy for
us to locate the Crow village, unless we met hostile war parties. For
about half the distance to the Medicine Springs the country is very
broken.
We forded the Missouri River and struck across a rolling country to
Arrow Creek, thirty miles from Benton, and reached the creek about
sixteen miles east of Rattling Buttes. These buttes, at the east end of
the Highwood Mountains, were in a dangerous country. It was a famous
resort for war parties, and game of all kinds was abundant. Here we
stood guard turn about. Because you see no Indians nor signs of any,
it does not follow that none are in the neighborhood. In a hostile or
semi-hostile country never trust to appearances, but be as much on the
alert as if you knew the enemy was in close proximity. Have everything
ready for action either to defend your position or to retreat.
The next morning before daylight we built a fire out of dry willows
and made coffee. Our bill of fare was pemican and crackers. We had
discovered a few buffalo feeding over a ridge near camp, and I asked
Jack to try to get one with an arrow. It was too dangerous to use a gun
to kill this game. If any Indians were within hearing, the report would
have brought them to us in force, and might have caused us annoyance.
Many a party has come to grief from the lack of such knowledge. Jack
went off, and in a short time returned with the tongue, the hump, and
one _dépouille_, which we used as a substitute for bread. By this time
I had the stock ready to start.
After viewing the surrounding country from a high knoll and observing
no signs of danger, we started. We had to pass over a broken country
between Arrow Creek and Wolf Creek, a distance of some eighteen miles.
As we passed over a high ridge far over to our right, perhaps seven
miles, we discovered about one hundred buffalo on a stampede. We left
the ridge and approached a hill that had some trees upon it, and from
this point looked over the country in order to learn, if possible, what
had caused the buffalo to “raise,” for buffalo seldom stampede unless
they are frightened by somebody in the vicinity. We discovered nothing,
and at length went on to Wolf Creek, where, on the south side of the
stream, we came across foot-tracks where seven men had been walking.
Jack declared that they were Blackfeet. They had passed along that
morning. Evidently they had tried to find the Crow village, but had
missed it. I told Jack that this war party would go to Deep Creek, and
would run off some miners’ horses, and would also take in a miner if
the opportunity offered. Afterward we learned that some war party about
this time did kill a miner and run off a number of horses.
We passed on, travelling in draws and hollows as much as possible,
until we reached Willow Creek. The antelope and a few buffalo were
feeding quietly; a sure sign that no Indians were about, and that there
had been none before our arrival. The grass was good, and we camped
and cooked our tongue, enjoying a feast fit for the gods of old, as
mountain men have it.
We did not travel fast or far, but kept our horses in prime condition,
so that, if in case of any emergency we were forced to make fast time,
we could get away and keep from being made bald-headed.
We were not disturbed during the night, and the next morning were off
at daylight. The game still fed about us undisturbed. We crossed Plum
Creek (Judith River) and discovered several pony tracks some days old.
We concluded that the riders were Crows.
At length we got to the Medicine Springs between the Moccasin
Mountains. The Crow village had been there, but had gone. We followed
their trail until dark, and camped at the east end of the Judith
Mountains. The next morning Jack went to the top of a high butte,
called Black Butte, and swept the surrounding prairie with a powerful
field-glass, but discovered no sign of village smokes. Now began the
dangerous part of our trip. A comparatively open country lay before us.
To follow the lodge-pole trail was dangerous, yet that was our only
means of finding the Crow village. All Indian war parties are likely to
follow the village trail of those they are after. Jack said that there
were two more Blackfeet war parties out besides the one that had gone
up Wolf Creek, but these parties we did not fear, because they were on
foot. The result might be different if we came in contact with either
Sioux, Cheyennes, or Arapahoes, who always go to war mounted, and in
force. We could easily stand off eight or twelve Indians, but fifty or
one hundred is a different matter. Nevertheless, we had to take the
risk.
Before starting we put everything in prime order. If some persons had
been present I think they would have believed that we were preparing
for a desperate fight or a desperate retreat.
From our camp in the Judith Mountains the big bend of the Musselshell
River and the Bull Mountains were fifty miles to the southeast. There
we expected to find the Crow village, unless prevented by hostile war
parties.
We travelled on at a five-mile gait, carefully watching the trail for
fresh tracks, either of men or horses. If either should be discovered,
we would have to act according to circumstances. In front of us and on
either flank a few scattered buffalo and antelope were feeding quietly.
About 2 P. M. we reached Flat Willow Creek, just above where Box Elder
Creek flows into it. Jack mounted his best horse and made a circle
three-quarters of a mile in diameter, to see if he could discover any
Indian signs. I went to the crest of a high ridge, and with my glasses
thoroughly swept the surrounding country without seeing any sign of a
village smoke, then returned to where I had left the horses. When Jack
returned I could see by his look that he had discovered something that
troubled him. When I asked him what he had found he pointed up the
creek and said: “South of that butte are the pony tracks of a mounted
party of twenty-five going toward the south end of the Bull Mountains.”
If this party was hostile, it was the scouting party from some larger
one, or it might be a scouting party of Crows. We had no means of
knowing which. In any case, we had to do one thing first of all, and
that was to let our animals refresh themselves. One of us kept a good
lookout, while the other unsaddled one horse at a time, gave him a bath
from the stream, dried, and resaddled him; repeating this until all
the horses had had their bath. Such treatment refreshes a horse more
than anything that you can do for him. All mountain men and many Indian
tribes understand the secret.
We were now in the most dangerous part of the country from the Pan
Handle of Texas to the British line. As an expert scout would say, “you
must see all around you; must have eyes in every part of your head.”
Dick, my best horse, was possessed of almost human intelligence. I had
trained him to come to me on a run at a whistle, as almost any horse
can be trained with a little patience. I mounted Dick, leaving Jack
with the outfit. I went up the stream and picked up the trail that he
had described and followed it. As Jack had said, it led toward the
south end of Bull Mountains. When I reached a ridge on which were some
trees, a plateau lay before me about one mile in extent and ending in
a broken country with scattering trees. I could see that the trail
led directly through a cluster of pines. I got into a draw, or low
place, which ran down toward the Musselshell River and followed it
down, hoping or expecting to come across the trail of the village. I
followed the draw until within half a mile of the river, and then rode
back across the country to Jack, without discovering anything.
Flat Willow Creek rises in the southeast end of the Big Snowy
Mountains. A large war-party could rendezvous there and send out small
scouting parties, learn if any enemies were in the vicinity, return,
and report. To a war party all human beings are considered enemies,
except the members of their own party.
I asked Jack what he thought of this party, whose trail he had found.
The trail was not over a day old. He replied it was either a scouting
war party, or a scouting party sent out by the Crow chief to find out
if any enemies were in the country. I had come to this same conclusion,
for in years past I had been out with many such parties on different
occasions. At all events, if this party were enemies of the Crows, they
had not as yet struck either the village or the lodge-pole trail, where
the village had passed along. One thing was noticeable in this section.
It was in the centre of the buffalo grazing ground at this season of
the year, and yet as far as a powerful glass could view the surrounding
country no buffalo were to be seen; though there was abundant sign
where they had been not many days before. On the other hand, we could
discover no signs where a run had been made. If anybody had been
chasing the buffalo many carcasses would be in evidence on every side.
A few antelope were to be seen, but they were shy and constantly on
the watch, a sure sign that Indians had passed over the country.
It would be very instructive to writers of Indian lore if they could
travel with an expert scout or with an Indian war party and observe
their actions--their caution and the care taken to avoid being seen
by their enemies and to circumvent them. They learn by the actions
of animals and by the flight of birds if enemies are near, or of the
people who have passed through, or who may yet be hidden in, some
section of the country. Jack was an expert in observations of this
kind. Not the flight of a bird escaped his eagle eye.
We remained here about two and a half hours. The horses had eaten, and
were refreshed and in prime condition. When we started, we followed the
trail and crossed the creek, the trail leading down the creek on the
south side to the forks of the Musselshell River. Here the Crow village
had remained only one night. They had made a long drive the day they
got to this camp. Jack said that the Crows were frightened and were
getting out of the country. It had been several days since they were
in this camp. As it was sundown when we reached there, we camped, and
the night passed without our being disturbed. Breakfast was over before
daylight next morning. We expected that the trail would follow up the
river, but instead of that it went southeast, toward the divide of the
Yellowstone River, and when we reached the divide the trail turned
east. Jack was well acquainted with this section of the country,
having been here with Piegan war parties many times. The east end of
the Bull Mountains was now some five miles south of us. Like the Big
Snowies, this is a great rendezvous for war parties. We followed the
trail, and about one o’clock in the day Jack turned north half a mile
to a spring of water of which he knew at the head of the draw.
That night we remained there, keeping a careful lookout. Nothing
happened in the night, and by daylight we were off again. Jack
announced that he thought that the Crows would be camped either on
upper or lower Porcupine Creek. As we went along we saw a few buffalo
and antelope feeding quietly, good evidence that they had not been
disturbed recently. As Jack was the most expert trailer, I placed him
in the lead, directing him to keep his eye on the trail, while I would
keep a general lookout over the country for any sign of danger.
We had travelled some five miles when, like a flash, Jack dismounted.
He followed on the trail on foot for a short distance, and returning
held up five fingers and made the sign for the Blackfeet Indian.
They had come up from the Musselshell River. We looked at the tracks
carefully and found them fresh. The ground was sandy in places, and
where an Indian’s foot had been, we discovered grains of sand still
active, unsettled, dropping down from the sides of the track, a sure
sign that they had been made recently. The same sign holds good with
horse tracks, and this sign can be read by any person with a quick
eye. Let him put his foot on some sand and then carefully and patiently
watch how long it takes for the sand to become inactive. All such signs
are carefully studied by mountaineers and Indians. It was plain enough
to us. We went on, keeping a sharp lookout. Some three-quarters of a
mile before us, we could see some timbered buttes, and the trail led
directly toward these trees. There was a possibility that those five
Indians might be there, and we put our tools in condition for instant
use. We got within three hundred yards of the buttes, wheeled to the
right, and putting our horses on a run, passed between two small hills
and got beyond the first butte. Nothing was discovered. When we reached
the trail, Jack dismounted, looked at it carefully, followed it a short
distance and returned, saying: “The Indians are running here.” In front
of us were other buttes with trees on them, and we were now satisfied
that the Blackfeet had discovered us and were at this moment planning a
coup by which they could take us without loss to themselves. To avoid
being ambushed, we bore to the left, keeping a long rifle shot from the
timber and a keen lookout. We had passed perhaps one hundred and fifty
yards beyond the first butte, when two rifle shots were fired, the
bullets going wide of the mark. We wheeled to the left, rode behind a
small knoll and dismounted. Before we got there, three more shots were
fired, the bullets coming unpleasantly close, but doing no harm.
We had no sooner dismounted than five Indians charged us with a yell,
for they made sure they had us. Our outfit was a tempting bait for
them. There were five good horses, to say nothing of arms and other
property. If they had succeeded in taking us in, they could have
returned to their people as great warriors, and would have been allowed
to paint their spouses’ faces to their hearts’ content, and these would
have been envied by all the other women in the village, who would not
have been permitted to take part in the scalp dance that would follow.
We let the Indians come within sixty yards, and then we showed
ourselves and ducked. The Indians, fool-like, all fired; and, before
they could reload or draw bows and arrows, the Sharp and the Henry got
to work, and in less time than it takes to write this, five Blackfeet
were on their way to their happy hunting-ground. We got five Hudson’s
Bay flintlock guns, bows and arrows, and other plunder. Jack scalped
two of the Indians. I took a fancy war bonnet.
When we got back, Jack told the circumstances to his friends in the
Piegan camp. They blamed us for killing these people, saying that as
we were mounted we should have run away. If we had run, the Blackfeet
would have been on our trail like a wolf on the trail of a wounded
deer. They are hard to shake free from or to throw off the trail.
Jack justified our acts, saying that they fired upon and charged us.
If they had succeeded in getting us they would have scalped us both,
they knowing him to be a Piegan. He added that any Indian, whether
Blackfoot, Blood, or Piegan that shot at him and missed, must expect to
be scalped. He was asked if he were not afraid that some of the friends
of those we had put to sleep would revenge themselves by putting him
to sleep. I could not but admire Jack when he answered them, his eyes
sparkling like fire: “No! if any one or more want to try that, they all
know when and where to find me.” As it was, we would not be annoyed any
more by this war party.
Jack told me that West Porcupine Creek took its rise a short distance
from here. Passing by this timbered country, we came to one that was
open, where a few buffalo were in sight. Here the trail bore to the
right, going south, and followed a ridge. Jack said that this ridge lay
between East and West Porcupine Creeks. We travelled some twelve miles
and, when we passed over a ridge, discovered the smoke of a village
on the lower or easternmost stream. It seemed to be about eight miles
distant. We moved toward it at a lively gait, but when we were about
a mile from the village, we could discern a great commotion beyond or
south of it. Horsemen were galloping back and forth in every direction
as if in a sham battle. Jack said that he heard shots and that he
believed a fight was on. We pushed ahead and got to the village, and
found, sure enough, that the Sioux had attacked it, trying to run off
the Crow ponies. They had been discovered by the young Crow herders and
the alarm was given; and, since Indians always keep their best horses
close to the village, the warriors soon mounted and rushed out to
protect their herds. Nothing is more disastrous to a camp than to lose
its horses, and they will fight as desperately for them as for their
families.
Bull Goes Hunting, the chief, met us, and, as he did so, put his hand
over his mouth, signifying his astonishment at seeing us. He was an
old acquaintance, a friend, and we went to his lodge. I left Jack and
our outfit in the care of the chief, while I mounted Dick to go out
and see the fight. Jack wished to go, but I would not allow it, for
he might do some desperate act, such as to charge through the Sioux
and might go under. At this time, he was too valuable a man to lose. A
few young warriors went with me, and we soon got to the battlefield.
The first man we met was Spotted Horse, a war chief. There were not
over two hundred Sioux, and fully three hundred Crows. We joined in
the half fight half runaway that was going on; though they had been
fighting some time, not over six on either side had been placed _hors
de combat_. A few were wounded, and a few ponies put out of action.
Neither of the opposing forces showed any generalship.
Without underrating the Indian, or overrating the paleface, I may say
that I have been with white men on the plains where forty of them
would have made short work of either of these contending forces. By
some poetical writers, the Indian is credited with possessing Spartan
bravery; but, with a few exceptions, the reverse is true. There are
but few mountain men who cannot outgeneral an Indian.
After a while the Crow chiefs got together for a council, and the
result was more like the work of school-boys than of warriors and
chiefs. I sat in the council. They spoke in their own tongue, half of
which I understood. They also made signs for every word spoken, and
each sign was as a, b, c, to me, as of course they knew. They wished
me to understand every word that they spoke. They asked my opinion of
the fight and what they should do. I advised them to call off their
warriors, to form three equal bodies of men, and to charge the Sioux
on both flanks and at the front at the same time. Then the fight would
end, and the Sioux would retreat. The Indians gave a grunt and said
nothing.
We all joined again in what one might call playful fighting. I
could see that the Sioux were growing discouraged, but a desultory
fighting continued for a short time, when some fifty of the bravest
Crow warriors charged the right flank of the Sioux and emptied a few
saddles, but were checked by a stand made by a few Sioux. This stand
was made in order to give some of their wounded an opportunity to
leave the field. As the Sioux were better mounted than the Crows, they
outstripped us on the retreat. We followed them about a mile, forcing
them to abandon some thirty tired ponies, which the Crows captured.
They scalped and mutilated a few Sioux and collected all the plunder
on the field. All the wounded Sioux had retired before the fight was
over. Indians will remove the slain to keep the enemies from scalping
them. Whites do the same.