of Captain Bonneville was composed of three bull boats, in which he
embarked all his peltries, giving them in charge of Mr. Cerre, with a
party of thirty-six men. Mr. Campbell took command of his own boats, and
the little squadrons were soon gliding down the bright current of the
Bighorn.
The secret precautions which Captain Bonneville had taken to throw his
men first into the trapping ground west of the Bighorn, were, probably,
superfluous. It did not appear that Fitzpatrick had intended to hunt in
that direction. The moment Mr. Campbell and his men embarked with the
peltries, Fitzpatrick took charge of all the horses, amounting to above
a hundred, and struck off to the east, to trap upon Littlehorn, Powder,
and Tongue rivers. He was accompanied by Captain Stewart, who was
desirous of having a range about the Crow country. Of the adventures
they met with in that region of vagabonds and horse stealers, we shall
have something to relate hereafter.
Captain Bonneville being now left to prosecute his trapping campaign
without rivalry, set out, on the 17th of August, for the rendezvous at
Medicine Lodge. He had but four men remaining with him, and forty-six
horses to take care of; with these he had to make his way over mountain
and plain, through a marauding, horse-stealing region, full of peril
for a numerous cavalcade so slightly manned. He addressed himself to his
difficult journey, however, with his usual alacrity of spirit.
In the afternoon of his first day’s journey, on drawing near to the
Bighorn Mountain, on the summit of which he intended to encamp for the
night, he observed, to his disquiet, a cloud of smoke rising from
its base. He came to a halt, and watched it anxiously. It was very
irregular; sometimes it would almost die away; and then would mount up
in heavy volumes. There was, apparently, a large party encamped there;
probably, some ruffian horde of Blackfeet. At any rate, it would not do
for so small a number of men, with so numerous a cavalcade, to venture
within sight of any wandering tribe. Captain Bonneville and his
companions, therefore, avoided this dangerous neighborhood; and,
proceeding with extreme caution, reached the summit of the mountain,
apparently without being discovered. Here they found a deserted
Blackfoot fort, in which they ensconced themselves; disposed of every
thing as securely as possible, and passed the night without molestation.
Early the next morning they descended the south side of the mountain
into the great plain extending between it and the Littlehorn range. Here
they soon came upon numerous footprints, and the carcasses of buffaloes;
by which they knew there must be Indians not far off. Captain Bonneville
now began to feel solicitude about the two small parties of trappers
which he had detached, lest the Indians should have come upon them
before they had united their forces. But he felt still more solicitude
about his own party; for it was hardly to be expected he could traverse
these naked plains undiscovered, when Indians were abroad; and should
he be discovered, his chance would be a desperate one. Everything now
depended upon the greatest circumspection. It was dangerous to discharge
a gun, or light a fire, or make the least noise, where such quick-eared
and quick-sighted enemies were at hand. In the course of the day they
saw indubitable signs that the buffalo had been roaming there in great
numbers, and had recently been frightened away. That night they encamped
with the greatest care; and threw up a strong breastwork for their
protection.
For the two succeeding days they pressed forward rapidly, but
cautiously, across the great plain; fording the tributary streams of the
Horn River; encamping one night among thickets; the next, on an island;
meeting, repeatedly, with traces of Indians; and now and then, in
passing through a defile, experiencing alarms that induced them to cock
their rifles.
On the last day of their march hunger got the better of their caution,
and they shot a fine buffalo bull at the risk of being betrayed by the
report. They did not halt to make a meal, but carried the meat on with
them to the place of rendezvous, the Medicine Lodge, where they arrived
safely, in the evening, and celebrated their arrival by a hearty supper.
The next morning they erected a strong pen for the horses, and a
fortress of logs for themselves; and continued to observe the greatest
caution. Their cooking was all done at mid-day, when the fire makes no
glare, and a moderate smoke cannot be perceived at any great distance.
In the morning and the evening, when the wind is lulled, the smoke rises
perpendicularly in a blue column, or floats in light clouds above the
tree-tops, and can be discovered from afar.
In this way the little party remained for several days, cautiously
encamped, until, on the 29th of August, the two detachments they had
been expecting, arrived together at the rendezvous. They, as usual, had
their several tales of adventures to relate to the captain, which we
will furnish to the reader in the next chapter.
24.
Adventures of the party of ten--The--Balaamite mule--A dead
point--The mysterious elks--A night attack--A retreat--
Travelling under an alarm--A joyful meeting--Adventures of
the other party--A decoy elk--Retreat to an island--A savage
dance of triumph--Arrival at Wind River
THE ADVENTURES of the detachment of ten are the first in order. These
trappers, when they separated from Captain Bonneville at the place where
the furs were embarked, proceeded to the foot of the Bighorn Mountain,
and having encamped, one of them mounted his mule and went out to set
his trap in a neighboring stream. He had not proceeded far when his
steed came to a full stop. The trapper kicked and cudgelled, but to
every blow and kick the mule snorted and kicked up, but still refused
to budge an inch. The rider now cast his eyes warily around in search of
some cause for this demur, when, to his dismay, he discovered an Indian
fort within gunshot distance, lowering through the twilight. In a
twinkling he wheeled about; his mule now seemed as eager to get on as
himself, and in a few moments brought him, clattering with his traps,
among his comrades. He was jeered at for his alacrity in retreating;
his report was treated as a false alarm; his brother trappers contented
themselves with reconnoitring the fort at a distance, and pronounced
that it was deserted.
As night set in, the usual precaution, enjoined by Captain Bonneville on
his men, was observed. The horses were brought in and tied, and a guard
stationed over them. This done, the men wrapped themselves in their
blankets, stretched themselves before the fire, and being fatigued with
a long day’s march, and gorged with a hearty supper, were soon in a
profound sleep.
The camp fires gradually died away; all was dark and silent; the
sentinel stationed to watch the horses had marched as far, and supped
as heartily as any of his companions, and while they snored, he began to
nod at his post. After a time, a low trampling noise reached his ear. He
half opened his closing eyes, and beheld two or three elks moving about
the lodges, picking, and smelling, and grazing here and there. The sight
of elk within the purlieus of the camp caused some little surprise; but
having had his supper, he cared not for elk meat, and, suffering them to
graze about unmolested, soon relapsed into a doze.
Suddenly, before daybreak, a discharge of firearms, and a struggle and
tramp of horses, made every one start to his feet. The first move was to
secure the horses. Some were gone; others were struggling, and kicking,
and trembling, for there was a horrible uproar of whoops, and yells, and
firearms. Several trappers stole quietly from the camp, and succeeded
in driving in the horses which had broken away; the rest were tethered
still more strongly. A breastwork was thrown up of saddles, baggage,
and camp furniture, and all hands waited anxiously for daylight. The
Indians, in the meantime, collected on a neighboring height, kept up
the most horrible clamor, in hopes of striking a panic into the camp, or
frightening off the horses. When the day dawned, the trappers attacked
them briskly and drove them to some distance. A desultory fire was kept
up for an hour, when the Indians, seeing nothing was to be gained, gave
up the contest and retired. They proved to be a war party of Blackfeet,
who, while in search of the Crow tribe, had fallen upon the trail of
Captain Bonneville on the Popo Agie, and dogged him to the Bighorn; but
had been completely baffled by his vigilance. They had then waylaid the
present detachment, and were actually housed in perfect silence within
their fort, when the mule of the trapper made such a dead point.
The savages went off uttering the wildest denunciations of hostility,
mingled with opprobrious terms in broken English, and gesticulations of
the most insulting kind.
In this melee, one white man was wounded, and two horses were killed.
On preparing the morning’s meal, however, a number of cups, knives, and
other articles were missing, which had, doubtless, been carried off by
the fictitious elk, during the slumber of the very sagacious sentinel.
As the Indians had gone off in the direction which the trappers had
intended to travel, the latter changed their route, and pushed forward
rapidly through the “Bad Pass,” nor halted until night; when, supposing
themselves out of the reach of the enemy, they contented themselves with
tying up their horses and posting a guard. They had scarce laid down to
sleep, when a dog strayed into the camp with a small pack of moccasons
tied upon his back; for dogs are made to carry burdens among the
Indians. The sentinel, more knowing than he of the preceding night,
awoke his companions and reported the circumstance. It was evident that
Indians were at hand. All were instantly at work; a strong pen was soon
constructed for the horses, after completing which, they resumed their
slumbers with the composure of men long inured to dangers.
In the next night, the prowling of dogs about the camp, and various
suspicious noises, showed that Indians were still hovering about them.
Hurrying on by long marches, they at length fell upon a trail, which,
with the experienced eye of veteran woodmen, they soon discovered to be
that of the party of trappers detached by Captain Bonneville when on his
march, and which they were sent to join. They likewise ascertained from
various signs, that this party had suffered some maltreatment from the
Indians. They now pursued the trail with intense anxiety; it carried
them to the banks of the stream called the Gray Bull, and down along its
course, until they came to where it empties into the Horn River. Here,
to their great joy, they discovered the comrades of whom they were in
search, all strongly fortified, and in a state of great watchfulness and
anxiety.
We now take up the adventures of this first detachment of trappers.
These men, after parting with the main body under Captain Bonneville,
had proceeded slowly for several days up the course of the river,
trapping beaver as they went. One morning, as they were about to visit
their traps, one of the camp-keepers pointed to a fine elk, grazing at a
distance, and requested them to shoot it. Three of the trappers started
off for the purpose. In passing a thicket, they were fired upon by some
savages in ambush, and at the same time, the pretended elk, throwing off
his hide and his horn, started forth an Indian warrior.
One of the three trappers had been brought down by the volley; the
others fled to the camp, and all hands, seizing up whatever they could
carry off, retreated to a small island in the river, and took refuge
among the willows. Here they were soon joined by their comrade who had
fallen, but who had merely been wounded in the neck.
In the meantime the Indians took possession of the deserted camp, with
all the traps, accoutrements, and horses. While they were busy among
the spoils, a solitary trapper, who had been absent at his work, came
sauntering to the camp with his traps on his back. He had approached
near by, when an Indian came forward and motioned him to keep away; at
the same moment, he was perceived by his comrades on the island, and
warned of his danger with loud cries. The poor fellow stood for a
moment, bewildered and aghast, then dropping his traps, wheeled and
made off at full speed, quickened by a sportive volley which the Indians
rattled after him.
In high good humor with their easy triumph, the savages now formed
a circle round the fire and performed a war dance, with the unlucky
trappers for rueful spectators. This done, emboldened by what they
considered cowardice on the part of the white men, they neglected their
usual mode of bush-fighting, and advanced openly within twenty paces of
the willows. A sharp volley from the trappers brought them to a sudden
halt, and laid three of them breathless. The chief, who had stationed
himself on an eminence to direct all the movements of his people,
seeing three of his warriors laid low, ordered the rest to retire. They
immediately did so, and the whole band soon disappeared behind a point
of woods, carrying off with them the horses, traps, and the greater part
of the baggage.
It was just after this misfortune that the party of ten men discovered
this forlorn band of trappers in a fortress, which they had thrown up
after their disaster. They were so perfectly dismayed, that they could
not be induced even to go in quest of their traps, which they had set in
a neighboring stream. The two parties now joined their forces, and made
their way, without further misfortune, to the rendezvous.
Captain Bonneville perceived from the reports of these parties, as well
as from what he had observed himself in his recent march, that he was in
a neighborhood teeming with danger. Two wandering Snake Indians, also,
who visited the camp, assured him that there were two large bands of
Crows marching rapidly upon him. He broke up his encampment, therefore,
on the 1st of September, made his way to the south, across the
Littlehorn Mountain, until he reached Wind River, and then turning
westward, moved slowly up the banks of that stream, giving time for his
men to trap as he proceeded. As it was not in the plan of the present
hunting campaigns to go near the caches on Green River, and as the
trappers were in want of traps to replace those they had lost, Captain
Bonneville undertook to visit the caches, and procure a supply. To
accompany him in this hazardous expedition, which would take him through
the defiles of the Wind River Mountains, and up the Green River valley,
he took but three men; the main party were to continue on trapping up
toward the head of Wind River, near which he was to rejoin them, just
about the place where that stream issues from the mountains. We shall
accompany the captain on his adventurous errand.
25.
Captain Bonneville sets out for Green River valley--Journey
up the Popo Agie--Buffaloes--The staring white bears--The
smok--The warm springs--Attempt to traverse the Wind River
Mountains--The Great Slope Mountain dells and chasms--
Crystal lakes--Ascent of a snowy peak--Sublime prospect--A
panorama “Les dignes de pitie,” or wild men of the mountains
HAVING FORDED WIND RIVER a little above its mouth, Captain Bonneville
and his three companions proceeded across a gravelly plain, until they
fell upon the Popo Agie, up the left bank of which they held their
course, nearly in a southerly direction. Here they came upon numerous
droves of buffalo, and halted for the purpose of procuring a supply of
beef. As the hunters were stealing cautiously to get within shot of the
game, two small white bears suddenly presented themselves in their path,
and, rising upon their hind legs, contemplated them for some time with a
whimsically solemn gaze. The hunters remained motionless; whereupon the
bears, having apparently satisfied their curiosity, lowered themselves
upon all fours, and began to withdraw. The hunters now advanced, upon
which the bears turned, rose again upon their haunches, and repeated
their serio-comic examination. This was repeated several times, until
the hunters, piqued at their unmannerly staring, rebuked it with a
discharge of their rifles. The bears made an awkward bound or two, as
if wounded, and then walked off with great gravity, seeming to commune
together, and every now and then turning to take another look at the
hunters. It was well for the latter that the bears were but half grown,
and had not yet acquired the ferocity of their kind.
The buffalo were somewhat startled at the report of the firearms; but
the hunters succeeded in killing a couple of fine cows, and, having
secured the best of the meat, continued forward until some time after
dark, when, encamping in a large thicket of willows, they made a great
fire, roasted buffalo beef enough for half a score, disposed of the
whole of it with keen relish and high glee, and then “turned in” for the
night and slept soundly, like weary and well fed hunters.
At daylight they were in the saddle again, and skirted along the river,
passing through fresh grassy meadows, and a succession of beautiful
groves of willows and cotton-wood. Toward evening, Captain Bonneville
observed a smoke at a distance rising from among hills, directly in the
route he was pursuing. Apprehensive of some hostile band, he concealed
the horses in a thicket, and, accompanied by one of his men, crawled
cautiously up a height, from which he could overlook the scene of
danger. Here, with a spy-glass, he reconnoitred the surrounding
country, but not a lodge nor fire, not a man, horse, nor dog, was to be
discovered; in short, the smoke which had caused such alarm proved to
be the vapor from several warm, or rather hot springs of considerable
magnitude, pouring forth streams in every direction over a bottom of
white clay. One of the springs was about twenty-five yards in diameter,
and so deep that the water was of a bright green color.
They were now advancing diagonally upon the chain of Wind River
Mountains, which lay between them and Green River valley. To coast round
their southern points would be a wide circuit; whereas, could they
force their way through them, they might proceed in a straight line. The
mountains were lofty, with snowy peaks and cragged sides; it was hoped,
however, that some practicable defile might be found. They attempted,
accordingly, to penetrate the mountains by following up one of the
branches of the Popo Agie, but soon found themselves in the midst of
stupendous crags and precipices that barred all progress. Retracing
their steps, and falling back upon the river, they consulted where to
make another attempt. They were too close beneath the mountains to scan
them generally, but they now recollected having noticed, from the plain,
a beautiful slope rising, at an angle of about thirty degrees, and
apparently without any break, until it reached the snowy region. Seeking
this gentle acclivity, they began to ascend it with alacrity, trusting
to find at the top one of those elevated plains which prevail among the
Rocky Mountains. The slope was covered with coarse gravel, interspersed
with plates of freestone. They attained the summit with some toil, but
found, instead of a level, or rather undulating plain, that they were
on the brink of a deep and precipitous ravine, from the bottom of which
rose a second slope, similar to the one they had just ascended. Down
into this profound ravine they made their way by a rugged path, or
rather fissure of the rocks, and then labored up the second slope. They
gained the summit only to find themselves on another ravine, and now
perceived that this vast mountain, which had presented such a sloping
and even side to the distant beholder on the plain, was shagged by
frightful precipices, and seamed with longitudinal chasms, deep and
dangerous.
In one of these wild dells they passed the night, and slept soundly
and sweetly after their fatigues. Two days more of arduous climbing and
scrambling only served to admit them into the heart of this mountainous
and awful solitude; where difficulties increased as they proceeded.
Sometimes they scrambled from rock to rock, up the bed of some mountain
stream, dashing its bright way down to the plains; sometimes they
availed themselves of the paths made by the deer and the mountain sheep,
which, however, often took them to the brinks of fearful precipices, or
led to rugged defiles, impassable for their horses. At one place, they
were obliged to slide their horses down the face of a rock, in which
attempt some of the poor animals lost their footing, rolled to the
bottom, and came near being dashed to pieces.
In the afternoon of the second day, the travellers attained one of the
elevated valleys locked up in this singular bed of mountains. Here were
two bright and beautiful little lakes, set like mirrors in the midst of
stern and rocky heights, and surrounded by grassy meadows, inexpressibly
refreshing to the eye. These probably were among the sources of those
mighty streams which take their rise among these mountains, and wander
hundreds of miles through the plains.
In the green pastures bordering upon these lakes, the travellers halted
to repose, and to give their weary horses time to crop the sweet and
tender herbage. They had now ascended to a great height above the level
of the plains, yet they beheld huge crags of granite piled one upon
another, and beetling like battlements far above them. While two of
the men remained in the camp with the horses, Captain Bonneville,
accompanied by the other men [man], set out to climb a neighboring
height, hoping to gain a commanding prospect, and discern some
practicable route through this stupendous labyrinth. After much toil, he
reached the summit of a lofty cliff, but it was only to behold gigantic
peaks rising all around, and towering far into the snowy regions of the
atmosphere. Selecting one which appeared to be the highest, he crossed a
narrow intervening valley, and began to scale it. He soon found that
he had undertaken a tremendous task; but the pride of man is never more
obstinate than when climbing mountains. The ascent was so steep and
rugged that he and his companion were frequently obliged to clamber on
hands and knees, with their guns slung upon their backs. Frequently,
exhausted with fatigue, and dripping with perspiration, they threw
themselves upon the snow, and took handfuls of it to allay their
parching thirst. At one place, they even stripped off their coats and
hung them upon the bushes, and thus lightly clad, proceeded to scramble
over these eternal snows. As they ascended still higher, there were cool
breezes that refreshed and braced them, and springing with new ardor to
their task, they at length attained the summit.