mention a mode of defence on the open prairie, which we have heard from
a veteran in the Indian trade. When a party of trappers is on a journey
with a convoy of goods or peltries, every man has three pack-horses
under his care; each horse laden with three packs. Every man is provided
with a picket with an iron head, a mallet, and hobbles, or leathern
fetters for the horses. The trappers proceed across the prairie in a
long line; or sometimes three parallel lines, sufficiently distant from
each other to prevent the packs from interfering. At an alarm, when
there is no covert at hand, the line wheels so as to bring the front to
the rear and form a circle. All then dismount, drive their pickets into
the ground in the centre, fasten the horses to them, and hobble their
forelegs, so that, in case of alarm, they cannot break away. Then they
unload them, and dispose of their packs as breastworks on the periphery
of the circle; each man having nine packs behind which to shelter
himself. In this promptly-formed fortress, they await the assault of the
enemy, and are enabled to set large bands of Indians at defiance.
The first night of his march, Captain Bonneville encamped upon Henry’s
Fork; an upper branch of Snake River, called after the first American
trader that erected a fort beyond the mountains. About an hour after all
hands had come to a halt the clatter of hoofs was heard, and a solitary
female, of the Nez Perce tribe, came galloping up. She was mounted on
a mustang or half wild horse, which she managed by a long rope hitched
round the under jaw by way of bridle. Dismounting, she walked silently
into the midst of the camp, and there seated herself on the ground,
still holding her horse by the long halter.
The sudden and lonely apparition of this woman, and her calm yet
resolute demeanor, awakened universal curiosity. The hunters and
trappers gathered round, and gazed on her as something mysterious. She
remained silent, but maintained her air of calmness and self-possession.
Captain Bonneville approached and interrogated her as to the object
of her mysterious visit. Her answer was brief but earnest--“I love the
whites--I will go with them.” She was forthwith invited to a lodge,
of which she readily took possession, and from that time forward was
considered one of the camp.
In consequence, very probably, of the military precautions of Captain
Bonneville, he conducted his party in safety through this hazardous
region. No accident of a disastrous kind occurred, excepting the loss of
a horse, which, in passing along the giddy edge of a precipice, called
the Cornice, a dangerous pass between Jackson’s and Pierre’s Hole, fell
over the brink, and was dashed to pieces.
On the 13th of July (1833), Captain Bonneville arrived at Green River.
As he entered the valley, he beheld it strewed in every direction with
the carcasses of buffaloes. It was evident that Indians had recently
been there, and in great numbers. Alarmed at this sight, he came to
a halt, and as soon as it was dark, sent out spies to his place of
rendezvous on Horse Creek, where he had expected to meet with his
detached parties of trappers on the following day. Early in the morning
the spies made their appearance in the camp, and with them came three
trappers of one of his bands, from the rendezvous, who told him his
people were all there expecting him. As to the slaughter among the
buffaloes, it had been made by a friendly band of Shoshonies, who had
fallen in with one of his trapping parties, and accompanied them to the
rendezvous. Having imparted this intelligence, the three worthies from
the rendezvous broached a small keg of “alcohol,” which they had brought
with them to enliven this merry meeting. The liquor went briskly round;
all absent friends were toasted, and the party moved forward to the
rendezvous in high spirits.
The meeting of associated bands, who have been separated from each other
on these hazardous enterprises, is always interesting; each having its
tales of perils and adventures to relate. Such was the case with the
various detachments of Captain Bonneville’s company, thus brought
together on Horse Creek. Here was the detachment of fifty men which
he had sent from Salmon River, in the preceding month of November, to
winter on Snake River. They had met with many crosses and losses in the
course of their spring hunt, not so much from Indians as from white men.
They had come in competition with rival trapping parties, particularly
one belonging to the Rocky Mountain Fur Company; and they had long
stories to relate of their manoeuvres to forestall or distress each
other. In fact, in these virulent and sordid competitions, the trappers
of each party were more intent upon injuring their rivals, than
benefitting themselves; breaking each other’s traps, trampling and
tearing to pieces the beaver lodges, and doing every thing in their
power to mar the success of the hunt. We forbear to detail these pitiful
contentions.
The most lamentable tale of disasters, however, that Captain Bonneville
had to hear, was from a partisan, whom he had detached in the preceding
year, with twenty men, to hunt through the outskirts of the Crow
country, and on the tributary streams of the Yellowstone; whence he was
to proceed and join him in his winter quarters on Salmon River. This
partisan appeared at the rendezvous without his party, and a sorrowful
tale of disasters had he to relate. In hunting the Crow country, he fell
in with a village of that tribe; notorious rogues, jockeys, and horse
stealers, and errant scamperers of the mountains. These decoyed most of
his men to desert, and carry off horses, traps, and accoutrements. When
he attempted to retake the deserters, the Crow warriors ruffled up to
him and declared the deserters were their good friends, had determined
to remain among them, and should not be molested. The poor partisan,
therefore, was fain to leave his vagabonds among these birds of their
own feather, and being too weak in numbers to attempt the dangerous
pass across the mountains to meet Captain Bonneville on Salmon River, he
made, with the few that remained faithful to him, for the neighborhood
of Tullock’s Fort, on the Yellowstone, under the protection of which he
went into winter quarters.
He soon found out that the neighborhood of the fort was nearly as bad
as the neighborhood of the Crows. His men were continually stealing
away thither, with whatever beaver skins they could secrete or lay their
hands on. These they would exchange with the hangers-on of the fort for
whiskey, and then revel in drunkeness and debauchery.
The unlucky partisan made another move. Associating with his party a
few free trappers, whom he met with in this neighborhood, he started off
early in the spring to trap on the head waters of Powder River. In the
course of the journey, his horses were so much jaded in traversing a
steep mountain, that he was induced to turn them loose to graze during
the night. The place was lonely; the path was rugged; there was not the
sign of an Indian in the neighborhood; not a blade of grass that had
been turned by a footstep. But who can calculate on security in the
midst of the Indian country, where the foe lurks in silence and secrecy,
and seems to come and go on the wings of the wind? The horses had scarce
been turned loose, when a couple of Arickara (or Rickaree) warriors
entered the camp. They affected a frank and friendly demeanor; but their
appearance and movements awakened the suspicions of some of the veteran
trappers, well versed in Indian wiles. Convinced that they were spies
sent on some sinister errand, they took them in custody, and set to work
to drive in the horses. It was too late--the horses were already gone.
In fact, a war party of Arickaras had been hovering on their trail for
several days, watching with the patience and perseverance of Indians,
for some moment of negligence and fancied security, to make a successful
swoop. The two spies had evidently been sent into the camp to create a
diversion, while their confederates carried off the spoil.
The unlucky partisan, thus robbed of his horses, turned furiously on his
prisoners, ordered them to be bound hand and foot, and swore to put them
to death unless his property were restored. The robbers, who soon
found that their spies were in captivity, now made their appearance on
horseback, and held a parley. The sight of them, mounted on the very
horses they had stolen, set the blood of the mountaineers in a ferment;
but it was useless to attack them, as they would have but to turn their
steeds and scamper out of the reach of pedestrians. A negotiation was
now attempted. The Arickaras offered what they considered fair terms; to
barter one horse, or even two horses, for a prisoner. The mountaineers
spurned at their offer, and declared that, unless all the horses were
relinquished, the prisoners should be burnt to death. To give force to
their threat, a pyre of logs and fagots was heaped up and kindled into a
blaze.
The parley continued; the Arickaras released one horse and then another,
in earnest of their proposition; finding, however, that nothing short of
the relinquishment of all their spoils would purchase the lives of
the captives, they abandoned them to their fate, moving off with many
parting words and lamentable howlings. The prisoners seeing them depart,
and knowing the horrible fate that awaited them, made a desperate effort
to escape. They partially succeeded, but were severely wounded and
retaken; then dragged to the blazing pyre, and burnt to death in the
sight of their retreating comrades.
Such are the savage cruelties that white men learn to practise, who
mingle in savage life; and such are the acts that lead to terrible
recrimination on the part of the Indians. Should we hear of any
atrocities committed by the Arickaras upon captive white men, let this
signal and recent provocation be borne in mind. Individual cases of the
kind dwell in the recollections of whole tribes; and it is a point of
honor and conscience to revenge them.
The loss of his horses completed the ruin of the unlucky partisan. It
was out of his power to prosecute his hunting, or to maintain his party;
the only thought now was how to get back to civilized life. At the first
water-course, his men built canoes, and committed themselves to the
stream. Some engaged themselves at various trading establishments
at which they touched, others got back to the settlements. As to the
partisan, he found an opportunity to make his way to the rendezvous
at Green River Valley; which he reached in time to render to Captain
Bonneville this forlorn account of his misadventures.
20.
Gathering in Green River valley--Visitings and feastings of
leaders--Rough wassailing among the trappers--Wild blades of
the mountains--Indian belles--Potency of bright beads and
red blankets--Arrival of supplies--Revelry and extravagance
--Mad wolves--The lost Indian
THE GREEN RIVER VALLEY was at this time the scene of one of those
general gatherings of traders, trappers, and Indians, that we have
already mentioned. The three rival companies, which, for a year past
had been endeavoring to out-trade, out-trap and out-wit each other, were
here encamped in close proximity, awaiting their annual supplies. About
four miles from the rendezvous of Captain Bonneville was that of the
American Fur Company, hard by which, was that also of the Rocky Mountain
Fur Company.
After the eager rivalry and almost hostility displayed by these
companies in their late campaigns, it might be expected that, when thus
brought in juxtaposition, they would hold themselves warily and sternly
aloof from each other, and, should they happen to come in contact, brawl
and bloodshed would ensue.
No such thing! Never did rival lawyers, after a wrangle at the bar,
meet with more social good humor at a circuit dinner. The hunting
season over, all past tricks and maneuvres are forgotten, all feuds and
bickerings buried in oblivion. From the middle of June to the middle of
September, all trapping is suspended; for the beavers are then shedding
their furs and their skins are of little value. This, then, is the
trapper’s holiday, when he is all for fun and frolic, and ready for a
saturnalia among the mountains.
At the present season, too, all parties were in good humor. The year had
been productive. Competition, by threatening to lessen their profits,
had quickened their wits, roused their energies, and made them turn
every favorable chance to the best advantage; so that, on assembling
at their respective places of rendezvous, each company found itself in
possession of a rich stock of peltries.
The leaders of the different companies, therefore, mingled on terms of
perfect good fellowship; interchanging visits, and regaling each other
in the best style their respective camps afforded. But the rich
treat for the worthy captain was to see the “chivalry” of the various
encampments, engaged in contests of skill at running, jumping,
wrestling, shooting with the rifle, and running horses. And then their
rough hunters’ feastings and carousels. They drank together, they sang,
they laughed, they whooped; they tried to out-brag and out-lie each
other in stories of their adventures and achievements. Here the free
trappers were in all their glory; they considered themselves the “cocks
of the walk,” and always carried the highest crests. Now and then
familiarity was pushed too far, and would effervesce into a brawl, and a
“rough and tumble” fight; but it all ended in cordial reconciliation and
maudlin endearment.
The presence of the Shoshonie tribe contributed occasionally to cause
temporary jealousies and feuds. The Shoshonie beauties became objects
of rivalry among some of the amorous mountaineers. Happy was the trapper
who could muster up a red blanket, a string of gay beads, or a paper
of precious vermilion, with which to win the smiles of a Shoshonie fair
one.
The caravans of supplies arrived at the valley just at this period
of gallantry and good fellowship. Now commenced a scene of eager
competition and wild prodigality at the different encampments. Bales
were hastily ripped open, and their motley contents poured forth.
A mania for purchasing spread itself throughout the several
bands--munitions for war, for hunting, for gallantry, were seized upon
with equal avidity--rifles, hunting knives, traps, scarlet cloth, red
blankets, garish beads, and glittering trinkets, were bought at any
price, and scores run up without any thought how they were ever to be
rubbed off. The free trappers, especially, were extravagant in their
purchases. For a free mountaineer to pause at a paltry consideration of
dollars and cents, in the attainment of any object that might strike his
fancy, would stamp him with the mark of the beast in the estimation of
his comrades. For a trader to refuse one of these free and flourishing
blades a credit, whatever unpaid scores might stare him in the face,
would be a flagrant affront scarcely to be forgiven.
Now succeeded another outbreak of revelry and extravagance. The trappers
were newly fitted out and arrayed, and dashed about with their horses
caparisoned in Indian style. The Shoshonie beauties also flaunted
about in all the colors of the rainbow. Every freak of prodigality
was indulged to its fullest extent, and in a little while most of
the trappers, having squandered away all their wages, and perhaps
run knee-deep in debt, were ready for another hard campaign in the
wilderness.
During this season of folly and frolic, there was an alarm of mad wolves
in the two lower camps. One or more of these animals entered the camps
for three nights successively, and bit several of the people.
Captain Bonneville relates the case of an Indian, who was a universal
favorite in the lower camp. He had been bitten by one of these animals.
Being out with a party shortly afterwards, he grew silent and gloomy,
and lagged behind the rest as if he wished to leave them. They halted
and urged him to move faster, but he entreated them not to approach him,
and, leaping from his horse, began to roll frantically on the earth,
gnashing his teeth and foaming at the mouth. Still he retained his
senses, and warned his companions not to come near him, as he should not
be able to restrain himself from biting them. They hurried off to obtain
relief; but on their return he was nowhere to be found. His horse and
his accoutrements remained upon the spot. Three or four days afterwards
a solitary Indian, believed to be the same, was observed crossing a
valley, and pursued; but he darted away into the fastnesses of the
mountains, and was seen no more.
Another instance we have from a different person who was present in the
encampment. One of the men of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company had been
bitten. He set out shortly afterwards in company with two white men on
his return to the settlements. In the course of a few days he showed
symptoms of hydrophobia, and became raving toward night. At length,
breaking away from his companions, he rushed into a thicket of willows,
where they left him to his fate!
21.
Schemes of Captain Bonneville--The Great Salt Lake
Expedition to explore it--Preparations for a journey to the
Bighorn
CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE now found himself at the head of a hardy,
well-seasoned and well-appointed company of trappers, all benefited
by at least one year’s experience among the mountains, and capable of
protecting themselves from Indian wiles and stratagems, and of providing
for their subsistence wherever game was to be found. He had, also, an
excellent troop of horses, in prime condition, and fit for hard service.
He determined, therefore, to strike out into some of the bolder parts of
his scheme. One of these was to carry his expeditions into some of the
unknown tracts of the Far West, beyond what is generally termed the
buffalo range. This would have something of the merit and charm of
discovery, so dear to every brave and adventurous spirit. Another
favorite project was to establish a trading post on the lower part
of the Columbia River, near the Multnomah valley, and to endeavor to
retrieve for his country some of the lost trade of Astoria.
The first of the above mentioned views was, at present, uppermost in his
mind--the exploring of unknown regions. Among the grand features of the
wilderness about which he was roaming, one had made a vivid impression
on his mind, and been clothed by his imagination with vague and ideal
charms. This is a great lake of salt water, laving the feet of the
mountains, but extending far to the west-southwest, into one of those
vast and elevated plateaus of land, which range high above the level of
the Pacific.
Captain Bonneville gives a striking account of the lake when seen from
the land. As you ascend the mountains about its shores, says he, you
behold this immense body of water spreading itself before you, and
stretching further and further, in one wide and far-reaching expanse,
until the eye, wearied with continued and strained attention, rests
in the blue dimness of distance, upon lofty ranges of mountains,
confidently asserted to rise from the bosom of the waters. Nearer to
you, the smooth and unruffled surface is studded with little islands,
where the mountain sheep roam in considerable numbers. What extent of
lowland may be encompassed by the high peaks beyond, must remain for the
present matter of mere conjecture though from the form of the summits,
and the breaks which may be discovered among them, there can be little
doubt that they are the sources of streams calculated to water large
tracts, which are probably concealed from view by the rotundity of the
lake’s surface. At some future day, in all probability, the rich harvest
of beaver fur, which may be reasonably anticipated in such a spot, will
tempt adventurers to reduce all this doubtful region to the palpable
certainty of a beaten track. At present, however, destitute of the means
of making boats, the trapper stands upon the shore, and gazes upon a
promised land which his feet are never to tread.
Such is the somewhat fanciful view which Captain Bonneville gives to
this great body of water. He has evidently taken part of his ideas
concerning it from the representations of others, who have somewhat
exaggerated its features. It is reported to be about one hundred and
fifty miles long, and fifty miles broad. The ranges of mountain peaks
which Captain Bonneville speaks of, as rising from its bosom, are
probably the summits of mountains beyond it, which may be visible at
a vast distance, when viewed from an eminence, in the transparent
atmosphere of these lofty regions. Several large islands certainly exist
in the lake; one of which is said to be mountainous, but not by any
means to the extent required to furnish the series of peaks above
mentioned.
Captain Sublette, in one of his early expeditions across the mountains,
is said to have sent four men in a skin canoe, to explore the lake,
who professed to have navigated all round it; but to have suffered
excessively from thirst, the water of the lake being extremely salt, and
there being no fresh streams running into it.
Captain Bonneville doubts this report, or that the men accomplished
the circumnavigation, because, he says, the lake receives several large
streams from the mountains which bound it to the east. In the spring,
when the streams are swollen by rain and by the melting of the snows,
the lake rises several feet above its ordinary level during the summer,
it gradually subsides again, leaving a sparkling zone of the finest salt
upon its shores.
The elevation of the vast plateau on which this lake is situated, is
estimated by Captain Bonneville at one and three-fourths of a mile above
the level of the ocean. The admirable purity and transparency of the
atmosphere in this region, allowing objects to be seen, and the report
of firearms to be heard, at an astonishing distance; and its extreme
dryness, causing the wheels of wagons to fall in pieces, as instanced
in former passages of this work, are proofs of the great altitude of the
Rocky Mountain plains. That a body of salt water should exist at such a
height is cited as a singular phenomenon by Captain Bonneville, though
the salt lake of Mexico is not much inferior in elevation.
To have this lake properly explored, and all its secrets revealed, was
the grand scheme of the captain for the present year; and while it was
one in which his imagination evidently took a leading part, he believed
it would be attended with great profit, from the numerous beaver streams
with which the lake must be fringed.
This momentous undertaking he confided to his lieutenant, Mr. Walker, in
whose experience and ability he had great confidence. He instructed him
to keep along the shores of the lake, and trap in all the streams on his
route; also to keep a journal, and minutely to record the events of his
journey, and everything curious or interesting, making maps or charts of
his route, and of the surrounding country.
No pains nor expense were spared in fitting out the party, of forty men,
which he was to command. They had complete supplies for a year, and were
to meet Captain Bonneville in the ensuing summer, in the valley of Bear
River, the largest tributary of the Salt Lake, which was to be his point
of general rendezvous.
The next care of Captain Bonneville was to arrange for the safe
transportation of the peltries which he had collected to the Atlantic
States. Mr. Robert Campbell, the partner of Sublette, was at this time
in the rendezvous of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, having brought up
their supplies. He was about to set off on his return, with the peltries
collected during the year, and intended to proceed through the Crow
country, to the head of navigation on the Bighorn River, and to descend
in boats down that river, the Missouri, and the Yellowstone, to St.
Louis.
Captain Bonneville determined to forward his peltries by the same
route, under the especial care of Mr. Cerre. By way of escort, he would
accompany Cerre to the point of embarkation, and then make an autumnal
hunt in the Crow country.
22.
The Crow country--A Crow paradise Habits of the Crows--
Anecdotes of Rose, the renegade white man--His fights with
the Blackfeet--His elevation--His death--Arapooish, the Crow
chief--His eagle Adventure of Robert Campbell--Honor among
Crows