to the camp, and tied them up, until an hour after sunrise; when, the
sentinel having reported that all was well, they sprang once more into
their saddles, and pursued the most covert and secret paths up the
mountain, avoiding the direct route.
At noon, they halted and made a hasty repast; and then bent their course
so as to regain the route from which they had diverged. They were now
made sensible of the danger from which they had just escaped. There were
tracks of Indians, who had evidently been in pursuit of them; but had
recently returned, baffled in their search.
Trusting that they had now got a fair start, and could not be overtaken
before night, even in case the Indians should renew the chase, they
pushed briskly forward, and did not encamp until late; when they
cautiously concealed themselves in a secure nook of the mountains.
Without any further alarm, they made their way to the head waters of
Wind River, and reached the neighborhood in which they had appointed
the rendezvous with their companions. It was within the precincts of the
Crow country; the Wind River valley being one of the favorite haunts of
that restless tribe. After much searching, Captain Bonneville came upon
a trail which had evidently been made by his main party. It was so old,
however, that he feared his people might have left the neighborhood;
driven off, perhaps by some of those war parties which were on the
prowl. He continued his search with great anxiety, and no little
fatigue; for his horses were jaded, and almost crippled, by their forced
marches and scramblings through rocky defiles.
On the following day, about noon, Captain Bonneville came upon a
deserted camp of his people, from which they had, evidently, turned
back; but he could find no signs to indicate why they had done so;
whether they had met with misfortune, or molestation, or in what
direction they had gone. He was now, more than ever, perplexed.
On the following day, he resumed his march with increasing anxiety. The
feet of his horses had by this time become so worn and wounded by the
rocks, that he had to make moccasons for them of buffalo hide. About
noon, he came to another deserted camp of his men; but soon after lost
their trail. After great search, he once more found it, turning in a
southerly direction along the eastern bases of the Wind River Mountains,
which towered to the right. He now pushed forward with all possible
speed, in hopes of overtaking the party. At night, he slept at another
of their camps, from which they had but recently departed. When the day
dawned sufficiently to distinguish objects, he perceived the danger that
must be dogging the heels of his main party. All about the camp were
traces of Indians who must have been prowling about it at the time his
people had passed the night there; and who must still be hovering about
them. Convinced, now, that the main party could not be at any great
distance, he mounted a scout on the best horse, and sent him forward to
overtake them, to warn them of their danger, and to order them to halt,
until he should rejoin them.
In the afternoon, to his great joy, he met the scout returning, with
six comrades from the main party, leading fresh horses for his
accommodation; and on the following day (September 25th), all hands
were once more reunited, after a separation of nearly three weeks. Their
meeting was hearty and joyous; for they had both experienced dangers and
perplexities.
The main party, in pursuing their course up the Wind River valley, had
been dogged the whole way by a war party of Crows. In one place, they
had been fired upon, but without injury; in another place, one of their
horses had been cut loose, and carried off. At length, they were so
closely beset, that they were obliged to make a retrogade move, lest
they should be surprised and overcome. This was the movement which had
caused such perplexity to Captain Bonneville.
The whole party now remained encamped for two or three days, to give
repose to both men and horses. Some of the trappers, however, pursued
their vocations about the neighboring streams. While one of them was
setting his traps, he heard the tramp of horses, and looking up,
beheld a party of Crow braves moving along at no great distance, with a
considerable cavalcade. The trapper hastened to conceal himself, but was
discerned by the quick eye of the savages. With whoops and yells,
they dragged him from his hiding-place, flourished over his head their
tomahawks and scalping-knives, and for a time, the poor trapper gave
himself up for lost. Fortunately, the Crows were in a jocose, rather
than a sanguinary mood. They amused themselves heartily, for a while,
at the expense of his terrors; and after having played off divers Crow
pranks and pleasantries, suffered him to depart unharmed. It is true,
they stripped him completely, one taking his horse, another his gun,
a third his traps, a fourth his blanket, and so on, through all his
accoutrements, and even his clothing, until he was stark naked; but then
they generously made him a present of an old tattered buffalo robe, and
dismissed him, with many complimentary speeches, and much laughter. When
the trapper returned to the camp, in such sorry plight, he was greeted
with peals of laughter from his comrades and seemed more mortified by
the style in which he had been dismissed, than rejoiced at escaping with
his life. A circumstance which he related to Captain Bonneville, gave
some insight into the cause of this extreme jocularity on the part
of the Crows. They had evidently had a run of luck, and, like winning
gamblers, were in high good humor. Among twenty-six fine horses, and
some mules, which composed their cavalcade, the trapper recognized a
number which had belonged to Fitzpatrick’s brigade, when they parted
company on the Bighorn. It was supposed, therefore, that these vagabonds
had been on his trail, and robbed him of part of his cavalry.
On the day following this affair, three Crows came into Captain
Bonneville’s camp, with the most easy, innocent, if not impudent air
imaginable; walking about with the imperturbable coolness and unconcern,
in which the Indian rivals the fine gentleman. As they had not been of
the set which stripped the trapper, though evidently of the same band,
they were not molested. Indeed, Captain Bonneville treated them with his
usual kindness and hospitality; permitting them to remain all day in the
camp, and even to pass the night there. At the same time, however, he
caused a strict watch to be maintained on all their movements; and at
night, stationed an armed sentinel near them. The Crows remonstrated
against the latter being armed. This only made the captain suspect
them to be spies, who meditated treachery; he redoubled, therefore, his
precautions. At the same time, he assured his guests, that while they
were perfectly welcome to the shelter and comfort of his camp, yet,
should any of their tribe venture to approach during the night, they
would certainly be shot; which would be a very unfortunate circumstance,
and much to be deplored. To the latter remark, they fully assented; and
shortly afterward commenced a wild song, or chant, which they kept up
for a long time, and in which they very probably gave their friends, who
might be prowling round the camp, notice that the white men were on the
alert. The night passed away without disturbance. In the morning, the
three Crow guests were very pressing that Captain Bonneville and his
party should accompany them to their camp, which they said was close
by. Instead of accepting their invitation, Captain Bonneville took his
departure with all possible dispatch, eager to be out of the vicinity
of such a piratical horde; nor did he relax the diligence of his march,
until, on the second day, he reached the banks of the Sweet Water,
beyond the limits of the Crow country, and a heavy fall of snow had
obliterated all traces of his course.
He now continued on for some few days, at a slower pace, round the point
of the mountain toward Green River, and arrived once more at the caches,
on the 14th of October.
Here they found traces of the band of Indians who had hunted them in the
defile toward the head waters of Wind River. Having lost all trace of
them on their way over the mountains, they had turned and followed back
their trail down the Green River valley to the caches. One of these they
had discovered and broken open, but it fortunately contained nothing but
fragments of old iron, which they had scattered about in all directions,
and then departed. In examining their deserted camp, Captain Bonneville
discovered that it numbered thirty-nine fires, and had more reason than
ever to congratulate himself on having escaped the clutches of such a
formidable band of freebooters.
He now turned his course southward, under cover of the mountains, and on
the 25th of October reached Liberge’s Ford, a tributary of the Colorado,
where he came suddenly upon the trail of this same war party, which
had crossed the stream so recently that the banks were yet wet with the
water that had been splashed upon them. To judge from their tracks, they
could not be less than three hundred warriors, and apparently of the
Crow nation.
Captain Bonneville was extremely uneasy lest this overpowering force
should come upon him in some place where he would not have the means of
fortifying himself promptly. He now moved toward Hane’s Fork, another
tributary of the Colorado, where he encamped, and remained during the
26th of October. Seeing a large cloud of smoke to the south, he supposed
it to arise from some encampment of Shoshonies, and sent scouts to
procure information, and to purchase a lodge. It was, in fact, a band
of Shoshonies, but with them were encamped Fitzpatrick and his party
of trappers. That active leader had an eventful story to relate of
his fortunes in the country of the Crows. After parting with Captain
Bonneville on the banks of the Bighorn, he made for the west, to trap
upon Powder and Tongue Rivers. He had between twenty and thirty men with
him, and about one hundred horses. So large a cavalcade could not
pass through the Crow country without attracting the attention of its
freebooting hordes. A large band of Crows was soon on their traces,
and came up with them on the 5th of September, just as they had reached
Tongue River. The Crow chief came forward with great appearance
of friendship, and proposed to Fitzpatrick that they should encamp
together. The latter, however, not having any faith in Crows, declined
the invitation, and pitched his camp three miles off. He then rode over
with two or three men, to visit the Crow chief, by whom he was received
with great apparent cordiality. In the meantime, however, a party of
young braves, who considered them absolved by his distrust from all
scruples of honor, made a circuit privately, and dashed into his
encampment. Captain Stewart, who had remained there in the absence of
Fitzpatrick, behaved with great spirit; but the Crows were too numerous
and active. They had got possession of the camp, and soon made booty
of every thing--carrying off all the horses. On their way back they met
Fitzpatrick returning to his camp; and finished their exploit by rifling
and nearly stripping him.
A negotiation now took place between the plundered white men and the
triumphant Crows; what eloquence and management Fitzpatrick made use of,
we do not know, but he succeeded in prevailing upon the Crow chieftain
to return him his horses and many of his traps; together with his rifles
and a few rounds of ammunition for each man. He then set out with all
speed to abandon the Crow country, before he should meet with any fresh
disasters.
After his departure, the consciences of some of the most orthodox Crows
pricked them sorely for having suffered such a cavalcade to escape out
of their hands. Anxious to wipe off so foul a stigma on the reputation
of the Crow nation, they followed on his trial, nor quit hovering about
him on his march until they had stolen a number of his best horses and
mules. It was, doubtless, this same band which came upon the lonely
trapper on the Popo Agie, and generously gave him an old buffalo robe in
exchange for his rifle, his traps, and all his accoutrements. With these
anecdotes, we shall, for present, take our leave of the Crow country and
its vagabond chivalry.
28.
A region of natural curiosities--The plain of white clay--
Hot springs--The Beer Spring--Departure to seek the free
trappers--Plain of Portneuf--Lava--Chasms and gullies--
Bannack Indians--Their hunt of the buffalo--Hunter’s feast--
Trencher heroes--Bullying of an absent foe--The damp
comrade--The Indian spy--Meeting with Hodgkiss--His
adventures--Poordevil Indians--Triumph of the Bannacks--
Blackfeet policy in war
CROSSING AN ELEVATED RIDGE, Captain Bonneville now came upon Bear
River, which, from its source to its entrance into the Great Salt Lake,
describes the figure of a horse-shoe. One of the principal head waters
of this river, although supposed to abound with beaver, has never
been visited by the trapper; rising among rugged mountains, and being
barricadoed [sic] by fallen pine trees and tremendous precipices.
Proceeding down this river, the party encamped, on the 6th of November,
at the outlet of a lake about thirty miles long, and from two to three
miles in width, completely imbedded in low ranges of mountains, and
connected with Bear River by an impassable swamp. It is called the
Little Lake, to distinguish it from the great one of salt water.
On the 10th of November, Captain Bonneville visited a place in the
neighborhood which is quite a region of natural curiosities. An area
of about half a mile square presents a level surface of white clay or
fuller’s earth, perfectly spotless, resembling a great slab of Parian
marble, or a sheet of dazzling snow. The effect is strikingly beautiful
at all times: in summer, when it is surrounded with verdure, or in
autumn, when it contrasts its bright immaculate surface with the
withered herbage. Seen from a distant eminence, it then shines like
a mirror, set in the brown landscape. Around this plain are clustered
numerous springs of various sizes and temperatures. One of them, of
scalding heat, boils furiously and incessantly, rising to the height of
two or three feet. In another place, there is an aperture in the earth,
from which rushes a column of steam that forms a perpetual cloud. The
ground for some distance around sounds hollow, and startles the solitary
trapper, as he hears the tramp of his horse giving the sound of a
muffled drum. He pictures to himself a mysterious gulf below, a place of
hidden fires, and gazes round him with awe and uneasiness.
The most noted curiosity, however, of this singular region, is the Beer
Spring, of which trappers give wonderful accounts. They are said to turn
aside from their route through the country to drink of its waters, with
as much eagerness as the Arab seeks some famous well of the desert.
Captain Bonneville describes it as having the taste of beer. His men
drank it with avidity, and in copious draughts. It did not appear to him
to possess any medicinal properties, or to produce any peculiar effects.
The Indians, however, refuse to taste it, and endeavor to persuade the
white men from doing so.
We have heard this also called the Soda Spring, and described as
containing iron and sulphur. It probably possesses some of the
properties of the Ballston water.
The time had now arrived for Captain Bonneville to go in quest of the
party of free trappers, detached in the beginning of July, under the
command of Mr. Hodgkiss, to trap upon the head waters of Salmon River.
His intention was to unite them with the party with which he was at
present travelling, that all might go into quarters together for the
winter. Accordingly, on the 11th of November, he took a temporary leave
of his band, appointing a rendezvous on Snake River, and, accompanied by
three men, set out upon his journey. His route lay across the plain
of the Portneuf, a tributary stream of Snake River, called after an
unfortunate Canadian trapper murdered by the Indians. The whole country
through which he passed bore evidence of volcanic convulsions and
conflagrations in the olden time. Great masses of lava lay scattered
about in every direction; the crags and cliffs had apparently been under
the action of fire; the rocks in some places seemed to have been in
a state of fusion; the plain was rent and split with deep chasms and
gullies, some of which were partly filled with lava.
They had not proceeded far, however, before they saw a party of
horsemen, galloping full tilt toward them. They instantly turned, and
made full speed for the covert of a woody stream, to fortify themselves
among the trees. The Indians came to a halt, and one of them came
forward alone. He reached Captain Bonneville and his men just as they
were dismounting and about to post themselves. A few words dispelled all
uneasiness. It was a party of twenty-five Bannack Indians, friendly to
the whites, and they proposed, through their envoy, that both parties
should encamp together, and hunt the buffalo, of which they had
discovered several large herds hard by. Captain Bonneville cheerfully
assented to their proposition, being curious to see their manner of
hunting.
Both parties accordingly encamped together on a convenient spot, and
prepared for the hunt. The Indians first posted a boy on a small hill
near the camp, to keep a look-out for enemies. The “runners,” then,
as they are called, mounted on fleet horses, and armed with bows and
arrows, moved slowly and cautiously toward the buffalo, keeping as much
as possible out of sight, in hollows and ravines. When within a proper
distance, a signal was given, and they all opened at once like a pack
of hounds, with a full chorus of yells, dashing into the midst of the
herds, and launching their arrows to the right and left. The plain
seemed absolutely to shake under the tramp of the buffalo, as they
scoured off. The cows in headlong panic, the bulls furious with rage,
uttering deep roars, and occasionally turning with a desperate rush upon
their pursuers. Nothing could surpass the spirit, grace, and dexterity,
with which the Indians managed their horses; wheeling and coursing among
the affrighted herd, and launching their arrows with unerring aim. In
the midst of the apparent confusion, they selected their victims with
perfect judgment, generally aiming at the fattest of the cows, the flesh
of the bull being nearly worthless, at this season of the year. In a few
minutes, each of the hunters had crippled three or four cows. A single
shot was sufficient for the purpose, and the animal, once maimed, was
left to be completely dispatched at the end of the chase. Frequently, a
cow was killed on the spot by a single arrow. In one instance, Captain
Bonneville saw an Indian shoot his arrow completely through the body of
a cow, so that it struck in the ground beyond. The bulls, however, are
not so easily killed as the cows, and always cost the hunter several
arrows; sometimes making battle upon the horses, and chasing them
furiously, though severely wounded, with the darts still sticking in
their flesh.
The grand scamper of the hunt being over, the Indians proceeded to
dispatch the animals that had been disabled; then cutting up the
carcasses, they returned with loads of meat to the camp, where the
choicest pieces were soon roasting before large fires, and a hunters’
feast succeeded; at which Captain Bonneville and his men were qualified,
by previous fasting, to perform their parts with great vigor.
Some men are said to wax valorous upon a full stomach, and such seemed
to be the case with the Bannack braves, who, in proportion as they
crammed themselves with buffalo meat, grew stout of heart, until, the
supper at an end, they began to chant war songs, setting forth their
mighty deeds, and the victories they had gained over the Blackfeet.
Warming with the theme, and inflating themselves with their own
eulogies, these magnanimous heroes of the trencher would start up,
advance a short distance beyond the light of the fire, and apostrophize
most vehemently their Blackfeet enemies, as though they had been within
hearing. Ruffling, and swelling, and snorting, and slapping their
breasts, and brandishing their arms, they would vociferate all their
exploits; reminding the Blackfeet how they had drenched their towns in
tears and blood; enumerate the blows they had inflicted, the warriors
they had slain, the scalps they had brought off in triumph. Then, having
said everything that could stir a man’s spleen or pique his valor, they
would dare their imaginary hearers, now that the Bannacks were few
in number, to come and take their revenge--receiving no reply to
this valorous bravado, they would conclude by all kinds of sneers and
insults, deriding the Blackfeet for dastards and poltroons, that
dared not accept their challenge. Such is the kind of swaggering and
rhodomontade in which the “red men” are prone to indulge in their
vainglorious moments; for, with all their vaunted taciturnity, they are
vehemently prone at times to become eloquent about their exploits, and
to sound their own trumpet.
Having vented their valor in this fierce effervescence, the Bannack
braves gradually calmed down, lowered their crests, smoothed their
ruffled feathers, and betook themselves to sleep, without placing a
single guard over their camp; so that, had the Blackfeet taken them at
their word, but few of these braggart heroes might have survived for any
further boasting.
On the following morning, Captain Bonneville purchased a supply of
buffalo meat from his braggadocio friends; who, with all their vaporing,
were in fact a very forlorn horde, destitute of firearms, and of
almost everything that constitutes riches in savage life. The bargain
concluded, the Bannacks set off for their village, which was situated,
they said, at the mouth of the Portneuf, and Captain Bonneville and his
companions shaped their course toward Snake River.
Arrived on the banks of that river, he found it rapid and boisterous,
but not too deep to be forded. In traversing it, however, one of the
horses was swept suddenly from his footing, and his rider was flung from
the saddle into the midst of the stream. Both horse and horseman were
extricated without any damage, excepting that the latter was completely
drenched, so that it was necessary to kindle a fire to dry him. While
they were thus occupied, one of the party looking up, perceived
an Indian scout cautiously reconnoitring them from the summit of a
neighboring hill. The moment he found himself discovered, he disappeared
behind the hill. From his furtive movements, Captain Bonneville
suspected him to be a scout from the Blackfeet camp, and that he had
gone to report what he had seen to his companions. It would not do
to loiter in such a neighborhood, so the kindling of the fire was
abandoned, the drenched horseman mounted in dripping condition, and the
little band pushed forward directly into the plain, going at a smart
pace, until they had gained a considerable distance from the place of
supposed danger. Here encamping for the night, in the midst of abundance
of sage, or wormwood, which afforded fodder for their horses, they
kindled a huge fire for the benefit of their damp comrade, and then
proceeded to prepare a sumptuous supper of buffalo humps and ribs, and
other choice bits, which they had brought with them. After a hearty
repast, relished with an appetite unknown to city epicures, they
stretched themselves upon their couches of skins, and under the starry
canopy of heaven, enjoyed the sound and sweet sleep of hardy and
well-fed mountaineers.