companion and comforter; upon which the rains had descended, and the
snows and winds beaten, without further effect than somewhat to
tarnish its primitive lustre. This coat of many colors had excited the
admiration, and inflamed the covetousness of both warriors and squaws,
to an extravagant degree. An idea now occurred to Captain Bonneville,
to convert this rainbow garment into the savory viands so much desired.
There was a momentary struggle in his mind, between old associations and
projected indulgence; and his decision in favor of the latter was
made, he says, with a greater promptness, perhaps, than true taste and
sentiment might have required. In a few moments, his plaid cloak was
cut into numerous strips. “Of these,” continues he, “with the newly
developed talent of a man-milliner, I speedily constructed turbans a
la Turque, and fanciful head-gears of divers conformations. These,
judiciously distributed among such of the womenkind as seemed of most
consequence and interest in the eyes of the patres conscripti, brought
us, in a little while, abundance of dried salmon and deers’ hearts; on
which we made a sumptuous supper. Another, and a more satisfactory
smoke, succeeded this repast, and sweet slumbers answering the peaceful
invocation of our pipes, wrapped us in that delicious rest, which is
only won by toil and travail.” As to Captain Bonneville, he slept in
the lodge of the venerable patriarch, who had evidently conceived a most
disinterested affection for him; as was shown on the following morning.
The travellers, invigorated by a good supper, and “fresh from the bath
of repose,” were about to resume their journey, when this affectionate
old chief took the captain aside, to let him know how much he loved him.
As a proof of his regard, he had determined to give him a fine horse,
which would go further than words, and put his good will beyond all
question. So saying, he made a signal, and forthwith a beautiful young
horse, of a brown color, was led, prancing and snorting, to the place.
Captain Bonneville was suitably affected by this mark of friendship; but
his experience in what is proverbially called “Indian giving,” made him
aware that a parting pledge was necessary on his own part, to prove that
his friendship was reciprocated. He accordingly placed a handsome
rifle in the hands of the venerable chief, whose benevolent heart was
evidently touched and gratified by this outward and visible sign of
amity.
Having now, as he thought, balanced this little account of friendship,
the captain was about to shift his saddle to this noble gift-horse when
the affectionate patriarch plucked him by the sleeve, and introduced to
him a whimpering, whining, leathern-skinned old squaw, that might have
passed for an Egyptian mummy, without drying. “This,” said he, “is
my wife; she is a good wife--I love her very much.--She loves the
horse--she loves him a great deal--she will cry very much at losing
him.--I do not know how I shall comfort her--and that makes my heart
very sore.”
What could the worthy captain do, to console the tender-hearted old
squaw, and, peradventure, to save the venerable patriarch from a curtain
lecture? He bethought himself of a pair of ear-bobs: it was true, the
patriarch’s better-half was of an age and appearance that seemed to
put personal vanity out of the question, but when is personal vanity
extinct? The moment he produced the glittering earbobs, the whimpering
and whining of the sempiternal beldame was at an end. She eagerly placed
the precious baubles in her ears, and, though as ugly as the Witch of
Endor, went off with a sideling gait and coquettish air, as though she
had been a perfect Semiramis.
The captain had now saddled his newly acquired steed, and his foot was
in the stirrup, when the affectionate patriarch again stepped forward,
and presented to him a young Pierced-nose, who had a peculiarly sulky
look. “This,” said the venerable chief, “is my son: he is very good; a
great horseman--he always took care of this very fine horse--he brought
him up from a colt, and made him what he is.--He is very fond of this
fine horse--he loves him like a brother--his heart will be very heavy
when this fine horse leaves the camp.”
What could the captain do, to reward the youthful hope of this venerable
pair, and comfort him for the loss of his foster-brother, the horse?
He bethought him of a hatchet, which might be spared from his slender
stores. No sooner did he place the implement into the hands of the young
hopeful, than his countenance brightened up, and he went off rejoicing
in his hatchet, to the full as much as did his respectable mother in her
ear-bobs.
The captain was now in the saddle, and about to start, when the
affectionate old patriarch stepped forward, for the third time, and,
while he laid one hand gently on the mane of the horse, held up the
rifle in the other. “This rifle,” said he, “shall be my great medicine.
I will hug it to my heart--I will always love it, for the sake of my
good friend, the bald-headed chief.--But a rifle, by itself, is dumb--I
cannot make it speak. If I had a little powder and ball, I would take it
out with me, and would now and then shoot a deer; and when I brought the
meat home to my hungry family, I would say--This was killed by the
rifle of my friend, the bald-headed chief, to whom I gave that very fine
horse.”
There was no resisting this appeal; the captain, forthwith, furnished
the coveted supply of powder and ball; but at the same time, put spurs
to his very fine gift-horse, and the first trial of his speed was to
get out of all further manifestation of friendship, on the part of the
affectionate old patriarch and his insinuating family.
32.
Nez-Perce camp--A chief with a hard name--The Big Hearts of
the East--Hospitable treatment--The Indian guides--
Mysterious councils--The loquacious chief--Indian tomb--
Grand Indian reception--An Indian feast--Town-criers--
Honesty of the Nez-Perces--The captain’s attempt at
healing.
FOLLOWING THE COURSE of the Immahah, Captain Bonneville and his three
companions soon reached the vicinity of Snake River. Their route now lay
over a succession of steep and isolated hills, with profound valleys. On
the second day, after taking leave of the affectionate old patriarch, as
they were descending into one of those deep and abrupt intervals,
they descried a smoke, and shortly afterward came in sight of a small
encampment of Nez Perces.
The Indians, when they ascertained that it was a party of white men
approaching, greeted them with a salute of firearms, and invited them to
encamp. This band was likewise under the sway of a venerable chief
named Yo-mus-ro-y-e-cut; a name which we shall be careful not to inflict
oftener than is necessary upon the reader This ancient and hard-named
chieftain welcomed Captain Bonneville to his camp with the same
hospitality and loving kindness that he had experienced from his
predecessor. He told the captain he had often heard of the Americans
and their generous deeds, and that his buffalo brethren (the Upper Nez
Perces) had always spoken of them as the Big-hearted whites of the East,
the very good friends of the Nez Perces.
Captain Bonneville felt somewhat uneasy under the responsibility of
this magnanimous but costly appellation; and began to fear he might be
involved in a second interchange of pledges of friendship. He hastened,
therefore, to let the old chief know his poverty-stricken state, and how
little there was to be expected from him.
He informed him that he and his comrades had long resided among the
Upper Nez Perces, and loved them so much, that they had thrown their
arms around them, and now held them close to their hearts. That he had
received such good accounts from the Upper Nez Perces of their cousins,
the Lower Nez Perces, that he had become desirous of knowing them as
friends and brothers. That he and his companions had accordingly loaded
a mule with presents and set off for the country of the Lower Nez
Perces; but, unfortunately, had been entrapped for many days among the
snowy mountains; and that the mule with all the presents had fallen into
Snake River, and been swept away by the rapid current. That instead,
therefore, of arriving among their friends, the Nez Perces, with light
hearts and full hands, they came naked, hungry, and broken down; and
instead of making them presents, must depend upon them even for food.
“But,” concluded he, “we are going to the white men’s fort on the
Wallah-Wallah, and will soon return; and then we will meet our Nez Perce
friends like the true Big Hearts of the East.”
Whether the hint thrown out in the latter part of the speech had any
effect, or whether the old chief acted from the hospitable feelings
which, according to the captain, are really inherent in the Nez Perce
tribe, he certainly showed no disposition to relax his friendship on
learning the destitute circumstances of his guests. On the contrary, he
urged the captain to remain with them until the following day, when he
would accompany him on his journey, and make him acquainted with all
his people. In the meantime, he would have a colt killed, and cut up for
travelling provisions. This, he carefully explained, was intended not
as an article of traffic, but as a gift; for he saw that his guests were
hungry and in need of food.
Captain Bonneville gladly assented to this hospitable arrangement.
The carcass of the colt was forthcoming in due season, but the captain
insisted that one half of it should be set apart for the use of the
chieftain’s family.
At an early hour of the following morning, the little party resumed
their journey, accompanied by the old chief and an Indian guide.
Their route was over a rugged and broken country; where the hills were
slippery with ice and snow. Their horses, too, were so weak and jaded,
that they could scarcely climb the steep ascents, or maintain their
foothold on the frozen declivities. Throughout the whole of the journey,
the old chief and the guide were unremitting in their good offices,
and continually on the alert to select the best roads, and assist them
through all difficulties. Indeed, the captain and his comrades had to be
dependent on their Indian friends for almost every thing, for they had
lost their tobacco and pipes, those great comforts of the trapper, and
had but a few charges of powder left, which it was necessary to husband
for the purpose of lighting their fires.
In the course of the day the old chief had several private consultations
with the guide, and showed evident signs of being occupied with some
mysterious matter of mighty import. What it was, Captain Bonneville
could not fathom, nor did he make much effort to do so. From some casual
sentences that he overheard, he perceived that it was something from
which the old man promised himself much satisfaction, and to which he
attached a little vainglory but which he wished to keep a secret; so he
suffered him to spin out his petty plans unmolested.
In the evening when they encamped, the old chief and his privy
counsellor, the guide, had another mysterious colloquy, after which the
guide mounted his horse and departed on some secret mission, while the
chief resumed his seat at the fire, and sat humming to himself in a
pleasing but mystic reverie.
The next morning, the travellers descended into the valley of the
Way-lee-way, a considerable tributary of Snake River. Here they met the
guide returning from his secret errand. Another private conference
was held between him and the old managing chief, who now seemed more
inflated than ever with mystery and self-importance. Numerous fresh
trails, and various other signs, persuaded Captain Bonneville that there
must be a considerable village of Nez Perces in the neighborhood; but as
his worthy companion, the old chief, said nothing on the subject, and as
it appeared to be in some way connected with his secret operations,
he asked no questions, but patiently awaited the development of his
mystery.
As they journeyed on, they came to where two or three Indians were
bathing in a small stream. The good old chief immediately came to a
halt, and had a long conversation with them, in the course of which he
repeated to them the whole history which Captain Bonneville had related
to him. In fact, he seems to have been a very sociable, communicative
old man; by no means afflicted with that taciturnity generally charged
upon the Indians. On the contrary, he was fond of long talks and long
smokings, and evidently was proud of his new friend, the bald-headed
chief, and took a pleasure in sounding his praises, and setting forth
the power and glory of the Big Hearts of the East.
Having disburdened himself of everything he had to relate to his bathing
friends, he left them to their aquatic disports, and proceeded onward
with the captain and his companions. As they approached the Way-lee-way,
however, the communicative old chief met with another and a very
different occasion to exert his colloquial powers. On the banks of the
river stood an isolated mound covered with grass. He pointed to it with
some emotion. “The big heart and the strong arm,” said he, “lie buried
beneath that sod.”
It was, in fact, the grave of one of his friends; a chosen warrior of
the tribe; who had been slain on this spot when in pursuit of a war
party of Shoshokoes, who had stolen the horses of the village. The enemy
bore off his scalp as a trophy; but his friends found his body in
this lonely place, and committed it to the earth with ceremonials
characteristic of their pious and reverential feelings. They gathered
round the grave and mourned; the warriors were silent in their grief;
but the women and children bewailed their loss with loud lamentations.
“For three days,” said the old man, “we performed the solemn dances for
the dead, and prayed the Great Spirit that our brother might be happy
in the land of brave warriors and hunters. Then we killed at his grave
fifteen of our best and strongest horses, to serve him when he should
arrive at the happy hunting grounds; and having done all this, we
returned sorrowfully to our homes.”
While the chief was still talking, an Indian scout came galloping up,
and, presenting him with a powder-horn, wheeled round, and was speedily
out of sight. The eyes of the old chief now brightened; and all his
self-importance returned. His petty mystery was about to explode.
Turning to Captain Bonneville, he pointed to a hill hard by, and
informed him, that behind it was a village governed by a little chief,
whom he had notified of the approach of the bald-headed chief, and a
party of the Big Hearts of the East, and that he was prepared to receive
them in becoming style. As, among other ceremonials, he intended to
salute them with a discharge of firearms, he had sent the horn of
gunpowder that they might return the salute in a manner correspondent to
his dignity.
They now proceeded on until they doubled the point of the hill, when the
whole population of the village broke upon their view, drawn out in the
most imposing style, and arrayed in all their finery. The effect of the
whole was wild and fantastic, yet singularly striking. In the front rank
were the chiefs and principal warriors, glaringly painted and decorated;
behind them were arranged the rest of the people, men, women, and
children.
Captain Bonneville and his party advanced slowly, exchanging salutes of
firearms. When arrived within a respectful distance, they dismounted.
The chiefs then came forward successively, according to their respective
characters and consequence, to offer the hand of good fellowship; each
filing off when he had shaken hands, to make way for his successor.
Those in the next rank followed in the same order, and so on, until all
had given the pledge of friendship. During all this time, the chief,
according to custom, took his stand beside the guests. If any of his
people advanced whom he judged unworthy of the friendship or confidence
of the white men, he motioned them off by a wave of the hand, and they
would submissively walk away. When Captain Bonneville turned upon him an
inquiring look, he would observe, “he was a bad man,” or something quite
as concise, and there was an end of the matter.
Mats, poles, and other materials were now brought, and a comfortable
lodge was soon erected for the strangers, where they were kept
constantly supplied with wood and water, and other necessaries; and
all their effects were placed in safe keeping. Their horses, too, were
unsaddled, and turned loose to graze, and a guard set to keep watch upon
them.
All this being adjusted, they were conducted to the main building or
council house of the village, where an ample repast, or rather banquet,
was spread, which seemed to realize all the gastronomical dreams that
had tantalized them during their long starvation; for here they beheld
not merely fish and roots in abundance, but the flesh of deer and elk,
and the choicest pieces of buffalo meat. It is needless to say
how vigorously they acquitted themselves on this occasion, and how
unnecessary it was for their hosts to practice the usual cramming
principle of Indian hospitality.
When the repast was over, a long talk ensued. The chief showed the
same curiosity evinced by his tribe generally, to obtain information
concerning the United States, of which they knew little but what they
derived through their cousins, the Upper Nez Perces; as their traffic is
almost exclusively with the British traders of the Hudson’s Bay Company.
Captain Bonneville did his best to set forth the merits of his nation,
and the importance of their friendship to the red men, in which he was
ably seconded by his worthy friend, the old chief with the hard name,
who did all that he could to glorify the Big Hearts of the East.
The chief, and all present, listened with profound attention, and
evidently with great interest; nor were the important facts thus
set forth, confined to the audience in the lodge; for sentence after
sentence was loudly repeated by a crier for the benefit of the whole
village.
This custom of promulgating everything by criers, is not confined to the
Nez Perces, but prevails among many other tribes. It has its advantage
where there are no gazettes to publish the news of the day, or to report
the proceedings of important meetings. And in fact, reports of this
kind, viva voce, made in the hearing of all parties, and liable to
be contradicted or corrected on the spot, are more likely to convey
accurate information to the public mind than those circulated through
the press. The office of crier is generally filled by some old man,
who is good for little else. A village has generally several of these
walking newspapers, as they are termed by the whites, who go about
proclaiming the news of the day, giving notice of public councils,
expeditions, dances, feasts, and other ceremonials, and advertising
anything lost. While Captain Bonneville remained among the Nez Perces,
if a glove, handkerchief, or anything of similar value, was lost or
mislaid, it was carried by the finder to the lodge of the chief, and
proclamation was made by one of their criers, for the owner to come and
claim his property.
How difficult it is to get at the true character of these wandering
tribes of the wilderness! In a recent work, we have had to speak of this
tribe of Indians from the experience of other traders who had casually
been among them, and who represented them as selfish, inhospitable,
exorbitant in their dealings, and much addicted to thieving; Captain
Bonneville, on the contrary, who resided much among them, and had
repeated opportunities of ascertaining their real character, invariably
speaks of them as kind and hospitable, scrupulously honest, and
remarkable, above all other Indians that he had met with, for a strong
feeling of religion. In fact, so enthusiastic is he in their praise,
that he pronounces them, all ignorant and barbarous as they are by their
condition, one of the purest hearted people on the face of the earth.
Some cures which Captain Bonneville had effected in simple cases, among
the Upper Nez Perces, had reached the ears of their cousins here, and
gained for him the reputation of a great medicine man. He had not been
long in the village, therefore, before his lodge began to be the resort
of the sick and the infirm. The captain felt the value of the reputation
thus accidentally and cheaply acquired, and endeavored to sustain it. As
he had arrived at that age when every man is, experimentally, something
of a physician, he was enabled to turn to advantage the little knowledge
in the healing art which he had casually picked up; and was sufficiently
successful in two or three cases, to convince the simple Indians that
report had not exaggerated his medical talents. The only patient that
effectually baffled his skill, or rather discouraged any attempt at
relief, was an antiquated squaw with a churchyard cough, and one leg
in the grave; it being shrunk and rendered useless by a rheumatic
affection. This was a case beyond his mark; however, he comforted the
old woman with a promise that he would endeavor to procure something to
relieve her, at the fort on the Wallah-Wallah, and would bring it on his
return; with which assurance her husband was so well satisfied, that he
presented the captain with a colt, to be killed as provisions for the
journey: a medical fee which was thankfully accepted.
While among these Indians, Captain Bonneville unexpectedly found an
owner for the horse which he had purchased from a Root Digger at the Big
Wyer. The Indian satisfactorily proved that the horse had been stolen
from him some time previous, by some unknown thief. “However,” said the
considerate savage, “you got him in fair trade--you are more in want
of horses than I am: keep him; he is yours--he is a good horse; use him
well.”
Thus, in the continued experience of acts of kindness and generosity,
which his destitute condition did not allow him to reciprocate, Captain
Bonneville passed some short time among these good people, more and more
impressed with the general excellence of their character.
33.
Scenery of the Way-lee-way--A substitute for tobacco--
Sublime scenery of--Snake River--The garrulous old chief and
his cousin--A Nez-Perce meeting--A stolen skin--The
scapegoat dog--Mysterious conferences--The little chief--His
hospitality--The captain’s account of the United States--His
healing skill
IN RESUMING HIS JOURNEY, Captain Bonneville was conducted by the
same Nez Perce guide, whose knowledge of the country was important
in choosing the routes and resting places. He also continued to be
accompanied by the worthy old chief with the hard name, who seemed
bent upon doing the honors of the country, and introducing him to every
branch of his tribe. The Way-lee-way, down the banks of which Captain
Bonneville and his companions were now travelling, is a considerable
stream winding through a succession of bold and beautiful scenes.
Sometimes the landscape towered into bold and mountainous heights that
partook of sublimity; at other times, it stretched along the water side
in fresh smiling meadows, and graceful undulating valleys.
Frequently in their route they encountered small parties of the Nez
Perces, with whom they invariably stopped to shake hands; and who,
generally, evinced great curiosity concerning them and their adventures;
a curiosity which never failed to be thoroughly satisfied by the replies
of the worthy Yo-mus-ro-y-e-cut, who kindly took upon himself to be
spokesman of the party.
The incessant smoking of pipes incident to the long talks of this
excellent, but somewhat garrulous old chief, at length exhausted all his
stock of tobacco, so that he had no longer a whiff with which to regale
his white companions. In this emergency, he cut up the stem of his
pipe into fine shavings, which he mixed with certain herbs, and thus
manufactured a temporary succedaneum to enable him to accompany his long
colloquies and harangues with the customary fragrant cloud.
If the scenery of the Way-lee-way had charmed the travellers with its
mingled amenity and grandeur, that which broke upon them on once more
reaching Snake River, filled them with admiration and astonishment. At
times, the river was overhung by dark and stupendous rocks, rising like
gigantic walls and battlements; these would be rent by wide and yawning
chasms, that seemed to speak of past convulsions of nature. Sometimes
the river was of a glassy smoothness and placidity; at other times it
roared along in impetuous rapids and foaming cascades. Here, the rocks
were piled in the most fantastic crags and precipices; and in another
place, they were succeeded by delightful valleys carpeted with
green-award. The whole of this wild and varied scenery was dominated
by immense mountains rearing their distant peaks into the clouds. “The
grandeur and originality of the views, presented on every side,” says
Captain Bonneville, “beggar both the pencil and the pen. Nothing we had
ever gazed upon in any other region could for a moment compare in wild
majesty and impressive sternness, with the series of scenes which
here at every turn astonished our senses, and filled us with awe and
delight.”