officiated as cook, whose various blunders and expedients in his novel
situation, and in the wild scenes and wild kind of life into which he
had suddenly been thrown, had made him a kind of butt or droll of
the camp. Tom, however, began to discover an ambition superior to his
station; and the conversation of the hunters, and their stories of their
exploits, inspired him with a desire to elevate himself to the dignity
of their order. The buffalo in such immense droves presented a tempting
opportunity for making his first essay. He rode, in the line of march,
all prepared for action: his powder-flask and shot-pouch knowingly slung
at the pommel of his saddle, to be at hand; his rifle balanced on his
shoulder. While in this plight, a troop of Buffalo came trotting by in
great alarm. In an instant, Tom sprang from his horse and gave chase on
foot. Finding they were leaving him behind, he levelled his rifle and
pulled [the] trigger. His shot produced no other effect than to increase
the speed of the buffalo, and to frighten his own horse, who took to his
heels, and scampered off with all the ammunition. Tom scampered after
him, hallooing with might and main, and the wild horse and wild Irishman
soon disappeared among the ravines of the prairie. Captain Bonneville,
who was at the head of the line, and had seen the transaction at a
distance, detached a party in pursuit of Tom. After a long interval they
returned, leading the frightened horse; but though they had scoured the
country, and looked out and shouted from every height, they had seen
nothing of his rider.
As Captain Bonneville knew Tom’s utter awkwardness and inexperience,
and the dangers of a bewildered Irishman in the midst of a prairie, he
halted and encamped at an early hour, that there might be a regular hunt
for him in the morning.
At early dawn on the following day scouts were sent off in every
direction, while the main body, after breakfast, proceeded slowly on its
course. It was not until the middle of the afternoon that the hunters
returned, with honest Tom mounted behind one of them. They had found him
in a complete state of perplexity and amazement. His appearance caused
shouts of merriment in the camp,--but Tom for once could not join in
the mirth raised at his expense: he was completely chapfallen, and
apparently cured of the hunting mania for the rest of his life.
5.
Magnificent scenery--Wind River--Mountains--Treasury of
waters--A stray horse--An Indian trail--Trout streams--The
Great Green River Valley--An alarm--A band of trappers--
Fontenelle, his information--Sufferings of thirst--
Encampment on the Seedskedee--Strategy of rival traders--
Fortification of the camp--The--Blackfeet--Banditti of the
mountains--Their character and habits
IT WAS ON THE 20TH of July that Captain Bonneville first came in sight
of the grand region of his hopes and anticipations, the Rocky Mountains.
He had been making a bend to the south, to avoid some obstacles along
the river, and had attained a high, rocky ridge, when a magnificent
prospect burst upon his sight. To the west rose the Wind River
Mountains, with their bleached and snowy summits towering into the
clouds. These stretched far to the north-northwest, until they melted
away into what appeared to be faint clouds, but which the experienced
eyes of the veteran hunters of the party recognized for the rugged
mountains of the Yellowstone; at the feet of which extended the wild
Crow country: a perilous, though profitable region for the trapper.
To the southwest, the eye ranged over an immense extent of wilderness,
with what appeared to be a snowy vapor resting upon its horizon. This,
however, was pointed out as another branch of the Great Chippewyan, or
Rocky chain; being the Eutaw Mountains, at whose basis the wandering
tribe of hunters of the same name pitch their tents. We can imagine the
enthusiasm of the worthy captain when he beheld the vast and mountainous
scene of his adventurous enterprise thus suddenly unveiled before him.
We can imagine with what feelings of awe and admiration he must have
contemplated the Wind River Sierra, or bed of mountains; that great
fountainhead from whose springs, and lakes, and melted snows some of
those mighty rivers take their rise, which wander over hundreds of miles
of varied country and clime, and find their way to the opposite waves of
the Atlantic and the Pacific.
The Wind River Mountains are, in fact, among the most remarkable of the
whole Rocky chain; and would appear to be among the loftiest. They form,
as it were, a great bed of mountains, about eighty miles in length,
and from twenty to thirty in breadth; with rugged peaks, covered with
eternal snows, and deep, narrow valleys full of springs, and brooks, and
rock-bound lakes. From this great treasury of waters issue forth limpid
streams, which, augmenting as they descend, become main tributaries of
the Missouri on the one side, and the Columbia on the other; and give
rise to the Seeds-ke-dee Agie, or Green River, the great Colorado of the
West, that empties its current into the Gulf of California.
The Wind River Mountains are notorious in hunters’ and trappers’
stories: their rugged defiles, and the rough tracts about their
neighborhood, having been lurking places for the predatory hordes of the
mountains, and scenes of rough encounter with Crows and Blackfeet. It
was to the west of these mountains, in the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee
Agie, or Green River, that Captain Bonneville intended to make a halt
for the purpose of giving repose to his people and his horses after
their weary journeying; and of collecting information as to his future
course. This Green River valley, and its immediate neighborhood, as
we have already observed, formed the main point of rendezvous, for
the present year, of the rival fur companies, and the motley populace,
civilized and savage, connected with them. Several days of rugged
travel, however, yet remained for the captain and his men before they
should encamp in this desired resting-place.
On the 21st of July, as they were pursuing their course through one of
the meadows of the Sweet Water, they beheld a horse grazing at a little
distance. He showed no alarm at their approach, but suffered himself
quietly to be taken, evincing a perfect state of tameness. The scouts of
the party were instantly on the look-out for the owners of this animal;
lest some dangerous band of savages might be lurking in the vicinity.
After a narrow search, they discovered the trail of an Indian party,
which had evidently passed through that neighborhood but recently. The
horse was accordingly taken possession of, as an estray; but a more
vigilant watch than usual was kept round the camp at nights, lest his
former owners should be upon the prowl.
The travellers had now attained so high an elevation that on the 23d of
July, at daybreak, there was considerable ice in the waterbuckets,
and the thermometer stood at twenty-two degrees. The rarefy of the
atmosphere continued to affect the wood-work of the wagons, and the
wheels were incessantly falling to pieces. A remedy was at length
devised. The tire of each wheel was taken off; a band of wood was nailed
round the exterior of the felloes, the tire was then made red hot,
replaced round the wheel, and suddenly cooled with water. By this means,
the whole was bound together with great compactness.
The extreme elevation of these great steppes, which range along the
feet of the Rocky Mountains, takes away from the seeming height of their
peaks, which yield to few in the known world in point of altitude above
the level of the sea.
On the 24th, the travellers took final leave of the Sweet Water, and
keeping westwardly, over a low and very rocky ridge, one of the most
southern spurs of the Wind River Mountains, they encamped, after a march
of seven hours and a half, on the banks of a small clear stream, running
to the south, in which they caught a number of fine trout.
The sight of these fish was hailed with pleasure, as a sign that they
had reached the waters which flow into the Pacific; for it is only on
the western streams of the Rocky Mountains that trout are to be taken.
The stream on which they had thus encamped proved, in effect, to be
tributary to the Seeds-ke-dee Agie, or Green River, into which it flowed
at some distance to the south.
Captain Bonneville now considered himself as having fairly passed the
crest of the Rocky Mountains; and felt some degree of exultation in
being the first individual that had crossed, north of the settled
provinces of Mexico, from the waters of the Atlantic to those of the
Pacific, with wagons. Mr. William Sublette, the enterprising leader
of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, had, two or three years previously,
reached the valley of the Wind River, which lies on the northeast of the
mountains; but had proceeded with them no further.
A vast valley now spread itself before the travellers, bounded on one
side by the Wind River Mountains, and to the west, by a long range of
high hills. This, Captain Bonneville was assured by a veteran hunter
in his company, was the great valley of the Seedske-dee; and the same
informant would have fain persuaded him that a small stream, three feet
deep, which he came to on the 25th, was that river. The captain was
convinced, however, that the stream was too insignificant to drain so
wide a valley and the adjacent mountains: he encamped, therefore, at an
early hour, on its borders, that he might take the whole of the next day
to reach the main river; which he presumed to flow between him and the
distant range of western hills.
On the 26th of July, he commenced his march at an early hour, making
directly across the valley, toward the hills in the west; proceeding at
as brisk a rate as the jaded condition of his horses would permit. About
eleven o’clock in the morning, a great cloud of dust was descried in the
rear, advancing directly on the trail of the party. The alarm was given;
they all came to a halt, and held a council of war. Some conjectured
that the band of Indians, whose trail they had discovered in the
neighborhood of the stray horse, had been lying in wait for them in some
secret fastness of the mountains; and were about to attack them on
the open plain, where they would have no shelter. Preparations
were immediately made for defence; and a scouting party sent off to
reconnoitre. They soon came galloping back, making signals that all was
well. The cloud of dust was made by a band of fifty or sixty mounted
trappers, belonging to the American Fur Company, who soon came up,
leading their pack-horses. They were headed by Mr. Fontenelle, an
experienced leader, or “partisan,” as a chief of a party is called in
the technical language of the trappers.
Mr. Fontenelle informed Captain Bonneville that he was on his way from
the company’s trading post on the Yellowstone to the yearly rendezvous,
with reinforcements and supplies for their hunting and trading parties
beyond the mountains; and that he expected to meet, by appointment, with
a band of free trappers in that very neighborhood. He had fallen
upon the trail of Captain Bonneville’s party, just after leaving the
Nebraska; and, finding that they had frightened off all the game, had
been obliged to push on, by forced marches, to avoid famine: both men
and horses were, therefore, much travel-worn; but this was no place to
halt; the plain before them he said was destitute of grass and water,
neither of which would be met with short of the Green River, which was
yet at a considerable distance. He hoped, he added, as his party
were all on horseback, to reach the river, with hard travelling, by
nightfall: but he doubted the possibility of Captain Bonneville’s
arrival there with his wagons before the day following. Having imparted
this information, he pushed forward with all speed.
Captain Bonneville followed on as fast as circumstances would permit.
The ground was firm and gravelly; but the horses were too much fatigued
to move rapidly. After a long and harassing day’s march, without pausing
for a noontide meal, they were compelled, at nine o’clock at night,
to encamp in an open plain, destitute of water or pasturage. On the
following morning, the horses were turned loose at the peep of day; to
slake their thirst, if possible, from the dew collected on the sparse
grass, here and there springing up among dry sand-banks. The soil of a
great part of this Green River valley is a whitish clay, into which the
rain cannot penetrate, but which dries and cracks with the sun. In
some places it produces a salt weed, and grass along the margins of the
streams; but the wider expanses of it are desolate and barren. It
was not until noon that Captain Bonneville reached the banks of the
Seeds-ke-dee, or Colorado of the West; in the meantime, the sufferings
of both men and horses had been excessive, and it was with almost
frantic eagerness that they hurried to allay their burning thirst in the
limpid current of the river.
Fontenelle and his party had not fared much better; the chief part had
managed to reach the river by nightfall, but were nearly knocked up
by the exertion; the horses of others sank under them, and they were
obliged to pass the night upon the road.
On the following morning, July 27th, Fontenelle moved his camp across
the river; while Captain Bonneville proceeded some little distance
below, where there was a small but fresh meadow yielding abundant
pasturage. Here the poor jaded horses were turned out to graze, and take
their rest: the weary journey up the mountains had worn them down in
flesh and spirit; but this last march across the thirsty plain had
nearly finished them.
The captain had here the first taste of the boasted strategy of the
fur trade. During his brief, but social encampment, in company with
Fontenelle, that experienced trapper had managed to win over a number of
Delaware Indians whom the captain had brought with him, by offering them
four hundred dollars each for the ensuing autumnal hunt. The captain was
somewhat astonished when he saw these hunters, on whose services he had
calculated securely, suddenly pack up their traps, and go over to the
rival camp. That he might in some measure, however, be even with his
competitor, he dispatched two scouts to look out for the band of free
trappers who were to meet Fontenelle in this neighborhood, and to
endeavor to bring them to his camp.
As it would be necessary to remain some time in this neighborhood, that
both men and horses might repose, and recruit their strength; and as it
was a region full of danger, Captain Bonneville proceeded to fortify his
camp with breastworks of logs and pickets.
These precautions were, at that time, peculiarly necessary, from the
bands of Blackfeet Indians which were roving about the neighborhood.
These savages are the most dangerous banditti of the mountains, and the
inveterate foe of the trappers. They are Ishmaelites of the first order,
always with weapon in hand, ready for action. The young braves of the
tribe, who are destitute of property, go to war for booty; to gain
horses, and acquire the means of setting up a lodge, supporting a
family, and entitling themselves to a seat in the public councils.
The veteran warriors fight merely for the love of the thing, and the
consequence which success gives them among their people.
They are capital horsemen, and are generally well mounted on short,
stout horses, similar to the prairie ponies to be met with at St. Louis.
When on a war party, however, they go on foot, to enable them to skulk
through the country with greater secrecy; to keep in thickets and
ravines, and use more adroit subterfuges and stratagems. Their mode
of warfare is entirely by ambush, surprise, and sudden assaults in the
night time. If they succeed in causing a panic, they dash forward with
headlong fury: if the enemy is on the alert, and shows no signs of fear,
they become wary and deliberate in their movements.
Some of them are armed in the primitive style, with bows and arrows; the
greater part have American fusees, made after the fashion of those of
the Hudson’s Bay Company. These they procure at the trading post of the
American Fur Company, on Marias River, where they traffic their peltries
for arms, ammunition, clothing, and trinkets. They are extremely fond
of spirituous liquors and tobacco; for which nuisances they are ready
to exchange not merely their guns and horses, but even their wives and
daughters. As they are a treacherous race, and have cherished a lurking
hostility to the whites ever since one of their tribe was killed by
Mr. Lewis, the associate of General Clarke, in his exploring expedition
across the Rocky Mountains, the American Fur Company is obliged
constantly to keep at that post a garrison of sixty or seventy men.
Under the general name of Blackfeet are comprehended several tribes:
such as the Surcies, the Peagans, the Blood Indians, and the Gros
Ventres of the Prairies: who roam about the southern branches of the
Yellowstone and Missouri Rivers, together with some other tribes further
north.
The bands infesting the Wind River Mountains and the country adjacent
at the time of which we are treating, were Gros Ventres of the Prairies,
which are not to be confounded with Gros Ventres of the Missouri, who
keep about the lower part of that river, and are friendly to the white
men.
This hostile band keeps about the headwaters of the Missouri, and
numbers about nine hundred fighting men. Once in the course of two or
three years they abandon their usual abodes, and make a visit to the
Arapahoes of the Arkansas. Their route lies either through the Crow
country, and the Black Hills, or through the lands of the Nez Perces,
Flatheads, Bannacks, and Shoshonies. As they enjoy their favorite state
of hostility with all these tribes, their expeditions are prone to be
conducted in the most lawless and predatory style; nor do they hesitate
to extend their maraudings to any party of white men they meet with;
following their trails; hovering about their camps; waylaying and
dogging the caravans of the free traders, and murdering the solitary
trapper. The consequences are frequent and desperate fights between them
and the “mountaineers,” in the wild defiles and fastnesses of the Rocky
Mountains.
The band in question was, at this time, on their way homeward from one
of their customary visits to the Arapahoes; and in the ensuing chapter
we shall treat of some bloody encounters between them and the trappers,
which had taken place just before the arrival of Captain Bonneville
among the mountains.
6.
Sublette and his band--Robert--Campbell--Mr. Wyeth and a
band of “down-easters”--Yankee enterprise--Fitzpatrick--His
adventure with the Blackfeet--A rendezvous of mountaineers--
The battle of--Pierre’s Hole--An Indian ambuscade--
Sublette’s return
LEAVING CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE and his band ensconced within their fortified
camp in the Green River valley, we shall step back and accompany a party
of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company in its progress, with supplies
from St. Louis, to the annual rendezvous at Pierre’s Hole. This
party consisted of sixty men, well mounted, and conducting a line of
packhorses. They were commanded by Captain William Sublette, a partner
in the company, and one of the most active, intrepid, and renowned
leaders in this half military kind of service. He was accompanied by
his associate in business, and tried companion in danger, Mr. Robert
Campbell, one of the pioneers of the trade beyond the mountains, who had
commanded trapping parties there in times of the greatest peril.
As these worthy compeers were on their route to the frontier, they fell
in with another expedition, likewise on its way to the mountains. This
was a party of regular “down-easters,” that is to say, people of New
England, who, with the all-penetrating and all-pervading spirit of their
race, were now pushing their way into a new field of enterprise with
which they were totally unacquainted. The party had been fitted out and
was maintained and commanded by Mr. Nathaniel J. Wyeth, of Boston. This
gentleman had conceived an idea that a profitable fishery for salmon
might be established on the Columbia River, and connected with the fur
trade. He had, accordingly, invested capital in goods, calculated, as he
supposed, for the Indian trade, and had enlisted a number of eastern men
in his employ, who had never been in the Far West, nor knew anything of
the wilderness. With these, he was bravely steering his way across the
continent, undismayed by danger, difficulty, or distance, in the same
way that a New England coaster and his neighbors will coolly launch
forth on a voyage to the Black Sea, or a whaling cruise to the Pacific.
With all their national aptitude at expedient and resource, Wyeth and
his men felt themselves completely at a loss when they reached the
frontier, and found that the wilderness required experience and
habitudes of which they were totally deficient. Not one of the party,
excepting the leader, had ever seen an Indian or handled a rifle; they
were without guide or interpreter, and totally unacquainted with “wood
craft” and the modes of making their way among savage hordes, and
subsisting themselves during long marches over wild mountains and barren
plains.
In this predicament, Captain Sublette found them, in a manner becalmed,
or rather run aground, at the little frontier town of Independence,
in Missouri, and kindly took them in tow. The two parties travelled
amicably together; the frontier men of Sublette’s party gave their
Yankee comrades some lessons in hunting, and some insight into the art
and mystery of dealing with the Indians, and they all arrived without
accident at the upper branches of the Nebraska or Platte River.
In the course of their march, Mr. Fitzpatrick, the partner of the
company who was resident at that time beyond the mountains, came
down from the rendezvous at Pierre’s Hole to meet them and hurry them
forward. He travelled in company with them until they reached the Sweet
Water; then taking a couple of horses, one for the saddle, and the
other as a pack-horse, he started off express for Pierre’s Hole, to make
arrangements against their arrival, that he might commence his hunting
campaign before the rival company.
Fitzpatrick was a hardy and experienced mountaineer, and knew all the
passes and defiles. As he was pursuing his lonely course up the Green
River valley, he described several horsemen at a distance, and came to
a halt to reconnoitre. He supposed them to be some detachment from the
rendezvous, or a party of friendly Indians. They perceived him, and
setting up the war-whoop, dashed forward at full speed: he saw at once
his mistake and his peril--they were Blackfeet. Springing upon his
fleetest horse, and abandoning the other to the enemy, he made for
the mountains, and succeeded in escaping up one of the most dangerous
defiles. Here he concealed himself until he thought the Indians had gone
off, when he returned into the valley. He was again pursued, lost his
remaining horse, and only escaped by scrambling up among the cliffs. For
several days he remained lurking among rocks and precipices, and almost
famished, having but one remaining charge in his rifle, which he kept
for self-defence.
In the meantime, Sublette and Campbell, with their fellow traveller,
Wyeth, had pursued their march unmolested, and arrived in the Green
River valley, totally unconscious that there was any lurking enemy at
hand. They had encamped one night on the banks of a small stream, which
came down from the Wind River Mountains, when about midnight, a band
of Indians burst upon their camp, with horrible yells and whoops, and
a discharge of guns and arrows. Happily no other harm was done than
wounding one mule, and causing several horses to break loose from their
pickets. The camp was instantly in arms; but the Indians retreated with
yells of exultation, carrying off several of the horses under cover of
the night.
This was somewhat of a disagreeable foretaste of mountain life to some
of Wyeth’s band, accustomed only to the regular and peaceful life of New
England; nor was it altogether to the taste of Captain Sublette’s men,
who were chiefly creoles and townsmen from St. Louis. They continued
their march the next morning, keeping scouts ahead and upon their
flanks, and arrived without further molestation at Pierre’s Hole.