savages, has been at times a convenient policy with some of the more
knowing traders; who have derived great credit and influence among them
by being considered “medicine men;” that is, men gifted with mysterious
knowledge. This feeling is also at times played upon by religious
charlatans, who are to be found in savage as well as civilized life. One
of these was noted by Wyeth, during his sojourn among the Flat-heads.
A new great man, says he, is rising in the camp, who aims at power
and sway. He covers his designs under the ample cloak of religion;
inculcating some new doctrines and ceremonials among those who are more
simple than himself. He has already made proselytes of one-fifth of
the camp; beginning by working on the women, the children, and the
weak-minded. His followers are all dancing on the plain, to their own
vocal music. The more knowing ones of the tribe look on and laugh;
thinking it all too foolish to do harm; but they will soon find that
women, children, and fools, form a large majority of every community,
and they will have, eventually, to follow the new light, or be
considered among the profane. As soon as a preacher or pseudo prophet of
the kind gets followers enough, he either takes command of the tribe, or
branches off and sets up an independent chief and “medicine man.”
46.
Scarcity in the camp--Refusal of supplies by the Hudson’s
Bay Company--Conduct of the Indians--A hungry retreat--John
Day’s River--The Blue Mountains--Salmon fishing on Snake
River Messengers from the Crow country--Bear River Valley--
immense migration of buffalo--Danger of buffalo hunting--A
wounded Indian--Eutaw Indians--A “surround” of antelopes.
PROVISIONS were now growing scanty in the camp, and Captain Bonneville
found it necessary to seek a new neighborhood. Taking leave, therefore,
of his friends, the Skynses, he set off to the westward, and, crossing
a low range of mountains, encamped on the head-waters of the Ottolais.
Being now within thirty miles of Fort Wallah-Wallah, the trading post of
the Hudson’s Bay Company, he sent a small detachment of men thither
to purchase corn for the subsistence of his party. The men were well
received at the fort; but all supplies for their camp were peremptorily
refused. Tempting offers were made them, however, if they would leave
their present employ, and enter into the service of the company; but
they were not to be seduced.
When Captain Bonneville saw his messengers return empty-handed, he
ordered an instant move, for there was imminent danger of famine. He
pushed forward down the course of the Ottolais, which runs diagonal
to the Columbia, and falls into it about fifty miles below the
Wallah-Wallah. His route lay through a beautiful undulating country,
covered with horses belonging to the Skynses, who sent them there for
pasturage.
On reaching the Columbia, Captain Bonneville hoped to open a trade with
the natives, for fish and other provisions, but to his surprise they
kept aloof, and even hid themselves on his approach. He soon discovered
that they were under the influence of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who had
forbidden them to trade, or hold any communion with him. He proceeded
along the Columbia, but it was everywhere the same; not an article of
provisions was to be obtained from the natives, and he was at length
obliged to kill a couple of his horses to sustain his famishing people.
He now came to a halt, and consulted what was to be done. The broad and
beautiful Columbia lay before them, smooth and unruffled as a mirror; a
little more journeying would take them to its lower region; to the noble
valley of the Wallamut, their projected winter quarters. To advance
under present circumstances would be to court starvation. The resources
of the country were locked against them, by the influence of a jealous
and powerful monopoly. If they reached the Wallamut, they could scarcely
hope to obtain sufficient supplies for the winter; if they lingered any
longer in the country the snows would gather upon the mountains and
cut off their retreat. By hastening their return, they would be able to
reach the Blue Mountains just in time to find the elk, the deer, and the
bighorn; and after they had supplied themselves with provisions, they
might push through the mountains before they were entirely blocked by
snow. Influenced by these considerations, Captain Bonneville reluctantly
turned his back a second time on the Columbia, and set off for the Blue
Mountains. He took his course up John Day’s River, so called from one
of the hunters in the original Astorian enterprise. As famine was at
his heels, he travelled fast, and reached the mountains by the 1st of
October. He entered by the opening made by John Day’s River; it was a
rugged and difficult defile, but he and his men had become accustomed
to hard scrambles of the kind. Fortunately, the September rains had
extinguished the fires which recently spread over these regions; and the
mountains, no longer wrapped in smoke, now revealed all their grandeur
and sublimity to the eye.
They were disappointed in their expectation of finding abundant game in
the mountains; large bands of the natives had passed through, returning
from their fishing expeditions, and had driven all the game before them.
It was only now and then that the hunters could bring in sufficient to
keep the party from starvation.
To add to their distress, they mistook their route, and wandered for
ten days among high and bald hills of clay. At length, after much
perplexity, they made their way to the banks of Snake River, following
the course of which, they were sure to reach their place of destination.
It was the 20th of October when they found themselves once more upon
this noted stream. The Shoshokoes, whom they had met with in such scanty
numbers on their journey down the river, now absolutely thronged its
banks to profit by the abundance of salmon, and lay up a stock for
winter provisions. Scaffolds were everywhere erected, and immense
quantities of fish drying upon them. At this season of the year,
however, the salmon are extremely poor, and the travellers needed their
keen sauce of hunger to give them a relish.
In some places the shores were completely covered with a stratum of dead
salmon, exhausted in ascending the river, or destroyed at the falls; the
fetid odor of which tainted the air.
It was not until the travellers reached the head-waters of the Portneuf
that they really found themselves in a region of abundance. Here the
buffaloes were in immense herds; and here they remained for three days,
slaying and cooking, and feasting, and indemnifying themselves by an
enormous carnival, for a long and hungry Lent. Their horses, too, found
good pasturage, and enjoyed a little rest after a severe spell of hard
travelling.
During this period, two horsemen arrived at the camp, who proved to be
messengers sent express for supplies from Montero’s party; which had
been sent to beat up the Crow country and the Black Hills, and to winter
on the Arkansas. They reported that all was well with the party, but
that they had not been able to accomplish the whole of their mission,
and were still in the Crow country, where they should remain until
joined by Captain Bonneville in the spring. The captain retained the
messengers with him until the 17th of November, when, having reached the
caches on Bear River, and procured thence the required supplies, he sent
them back to their party; appointing a rendezvous toward the last of
June following, on the forks of Wind River Valley, in the Crow country.
He now remained several days encamped near the caches, and having
discovered a small band of Shoshonies in his neighborhood, purchased
from them lodges, furs, and other articles of winter comfort, and
arranged with them to encamp together during the winter.
The place designed by the captain for the wintering ground was on the
upper part of Bear River, some distance off. He delayed approaching it
as long as possible, in order to avoid driving off the buffaloes, which
would be needed for winter provisions. He accordingly moved forward but
slowly, merely as the want of game and grass obliged him to shift his
position. The weather had already become extremely cold, and the snow
lay to a considerable depth. To enable the horses to carry as much dried
meat as possible, he caused a cache to be made, in which all the baggage
that could be spared was deposited. This done, the party continued to
move slowly toward their winter quarters.
They were not doomed, however, to suffer from scarcity during the
present winter. The people upon Snake River having chased off the
buffaloes before the snow had become deep, immense herds now came
trooping over the mountains; forming dark masses on their sides, from
which their deep-mouthed bellowing sounded like the low peals and
mutterings from a gathering thunder-cloud. In effect, the cloud broke,
and down came the torrent thundering into the valley. It is utterly
impossible, according to Captain Bonneville, to convey an idea of the
effect produced by the sight of such countless throngs of animals of
such bulk and spirit, all rushing forward as if swept on by a whirlwind.
The long privation which the travellers had suffered gave uncommon ardor
to their present hunting. One of the Indians attached to the party,
finding himself on horseback in the midst of the buffaloes, without
either rifle, or bow and arrows, dashed after a fine cow that was
passing close by him, and plunged his knife into her side with such
lucky aim as to bring her to the ground. It was a daring deed; but
hunger had made him almost desperate.
The buffaloes are sometimes tenacious of life, and must be wounded
in particular parts. A ball striking the shagged frontlet of a
bull produces no other effect than a toss of the head and greater
exasperation; on the contrary, a ball striking the forehead of a cow
is fatal. Several instances occurred during this great hunting bout,
of bulls fighting furiously after having received mortal wounds.
Wyeth, also, was witness to an instance of the kind while encamped
with Indians. During a grand hunt of the buffaloes, one of the Indians
pressed a bull so closely that the animal turned suddenly on him. His
horse stopped short, or started back, and threw him. Before he could
rise the bull rushed furiously upon him, and gored him in the chest so
that his breath came out at the aperture. He was conveyed back to the
camp, and his wound was dressed. Giving himself up for slain, he called
round him his friends, and made his will by word of mouth. It was
something like a death chant, and at the end of every sentence those
around responded in concord. He appeared no ways intimidated by the
approach of death. “I think,” adds Wyeth, “the Indians die better than
the white men; perhaps from having less fear about the future.”
The buffaloes may be approached very near, if the hunter keeps to the
leeward; but they are quick of scent, and will take the alarm and
move off from a party of hunters to the windward, even when two miles
distant.
The vast herds which had poured down into the Bear River Valley were now
snow-bound, and remained in the neighborhood of the camp throughout the
winter. This furnished the trappers and their Indian friends a perpetual
carnival; so that, to slay and eat seemed to be the main occupations of
the day. It is astonishing what loads of meat it requires to cope with
the appetite of a hunting camp.
The ravens and wolves soon came in for their share of the good cheer.
These constant attendants of the hunter gathered in vast numbers as
the winter advanced. They might be completely out of sight, but at the
report of a gun, flights of ravens would immediately be seen hovering
in the air, no one knew whence they came; while the sharp visages of
the wolves would peep down from the brow of every hill, waiting for the
hunter’s departure to pounce upon the carcass.
Besides the buffaloes, there were other neighbors snow-bound in the
valley, whose presence did not promise to be so advantageous. This was a
band of Eutaw Indians who were encamped higher up on the river. They
are a poor tribe that, in a scale of the various tribes inhabiting these
regions, would rank between the Shoshonies and the Shoshokoes or Root
Diggers; though more bold and warlike than the latter. They have but few
rifles among them, and are generally armed with bows and arrows.
As this band and the Shoshonies were at deadly feud, on account of
old grievances, and as neither party stood in awe of the other, it was
feared some bloody scenes might ensue. Captain Bonneville, therefore,
undertook the office of pacificator, and sent to the Eutaw chiefs,
inviting them to a friendly smoke, in order to bring about a
reconciliation. His invitation was proudly declined; whereupon he
went to them in person, and succeeded in effecting a suspension of
hostilities until the chiefs of the two tribes could meet in
council. The braves of the two rival camps sullenly acquiesced in the
arrangement. They would take their seats upon the hill tops, and watch
their quondam enemies hunting the buffalo in the plain below, and
evidently repine that their hands were tied up from a skirmish. The
worthy captain, however, succeeded in carrying through his benevolent
mediation. The chiefs met; the amicable pipe was smoked, the hatchet
buried, and peace formally proclaimed. After this, both camps united
and mingled in social intercourse. Private quarrels, however, would
occasionally occur in hunting, about the division of the game, and blows
would sometimes be exchanged over the carcass of a buffalo; but the
chiefs wisely took no notice of these individual brawls.
One day the scouts, who had been ranging the hills, brought news of
several large herds of antelopes in a small valley at no great distance.
This produced a sensation among the Indians, for both tribes were in
ragged condition, and sadly in want of those shirts made of the skin
of the antelope. It was determined to have “a surround,” as the mode of
hunting that animal is called. Everything now assumed an air of mystic
solemnity and importance. The chiefs prepared their medicines or charms
each according to his own method, or fancied inspiration, generally
with the compound of certain simples; others consulted the entrails of
animals which they had sacrificed, and thence drew favorable auguries.
After much grave smoking and deliberating it was at length proclaimed
that all who were able to lift a club, man, woman, or child, should
muster for “the surround.” When all had congregated, they moved in rude
procession to the nearest point of the valley in question, and there
halted. Another course of smoking and deliberating, of which the Indians
are so fond, took place among the chiefs. Directions were then issued
for the horsemen to make a circuit of about seven miles, so as to
encompass the herd. When this was done, the whole mounted force dashed
off simultaneously, at full speed, shouting and yelling at the top of
their voices. In a short space of time the antelopes, started from
their hiding-places, came bounding from all points into the valley. The
riders, now gradually contracting their circle, brought them nearer and
nearer to the spot where the senior chief, surrounded by the elders,
male and female, were seated in supervision of the chase. The antelopes,
nearly exhausted with fatigue and fright, and bewildered by perpetual
whooping, made no effort to break through the ring of the hunters, but
ran round in small circles, until man, woman, and child beat them down
with bludgeons. Such is the nature of that species of antelope hunting,
technically called “a surround.”
47.
A festive winter--Conversion of the Shoshonies--Visit of two
free trappers--Gayety in the camp--A touch of the tender
passion--The reclaimed squaw--An Indian fine lady--An
elopement--A pursuit--Market value of a bad wife.
GAME continued to abound throughout the winter, and the camp was
overstocked with provisions. Beef and venison, humps and haunches,
buffalo tongues and marrow-bones, were constantly cooking at every fire;
and the whole atmosphere was redolent with the savory fumes of roast
meat. It was, indeed, a continual “feast of fat things,” and though
there might be a lack of “wine upon the lees,” yet we have shown that a
substitute was occasionally to be found in honey and alcohol.
Both the Shoshonies and the Eutaws conducted themselves with great
propriety. It is true, they now and then filched a few trifles from
their good friends, the Big Hearts, when their backs were turned; but
then, they always treated them to their faces with the utmost deference
and respect, and good-humoredly vied with the trappers in all kinds of
feats of activity and mirthful sports. The two tribes maintained toward
each other, also a friendliness of aspect which gave Captain Bonneville
reason to hope that all past animosity was effectually buried.
The two rival bands, however, had not long been mingled in this social
manner before their ancient jealousy began to break out in a new form.
The senior chief of the Shoshonies was a thinking man, and a man of
observation. He had been among the Nez Perces, listened to their new
code of morality and religion received from the white men, and attended
their devotional exercises. He had observed the effect of all this, in
elevating the tribe in the estimation of the white men; and determined,
by the same means, to gain for his own tribe a superiority over their
ignorant rivals, the Eutaws. He accordingly assembled his people, and
promulgated among them the mongrel doctrines and form of worship of the
Nez Perces; recommending the same to their adoption. The Shoshonies were
struck with the novelty, at least, of the measure, and entered into it
with spirit. They began to observe Sundays and holidays, and to have
their devotional dances, and chants, and other ceremonials, about
which the ignorant Eutaws knew nothing; while they exerted their usual
competition in shooting and horseracing, and the renowned game of hand.
Matters were going on thus pleasantly and prosperously, in this motley
community of white and red men, when, one morning, two stark free
trappers, arrayed in the height of savage finery, and mounted on steeds
as fine and as fiery as themselves, and all jingling with hawks’ bells,
came galloping, with whoop and halloo, into the camp.
They were fresh from the winter encampment of the American Fur Company,
in the Green River Valley; and had come to pay their old comrades of
Captain Bonneville’s company a visit. An idea may be formed from the
scenes we have already given of conviviality in the wilderness, of the
manner in which these game birds were received by those of their
feather in the camp; what feasting, what revelling, what boasting,
what bragging, what ranting and roaring, and racing and gambling, and
squabbling and fighting, ensued among these boon companions. Captain
Bonneville, it is true, maintained always a certain degree of law and
order in his camp, and checked each fierce excess; but the trappers, in
their seasons of idleness and relaxation require a degree of license and
indulgence, to repay them for the long privations and almost incredible
hardships of their periods of active service.
In the midst of all this feasting and frolicking, a freak of the tender
passion intervened, and wrought a complete change in the scene. Among
the Indian beauties in the camp of the Eutaws and Shoshonies, the free
trappers discovered two, who had whilom figured as their squaws. These
connections frequently take place for a season, and sometimes continue
for years, if not perpetually; but are apt to be broken when the free
trapper starts off, suddenly, on some distant and rough expedition.
In the present instance, these wild blades were anxious to regain
their belles; nor were the latter loath once more to come under their
protection. The free trapper combines, in the eye of an Indian girl, all
that is dashing and heroic in a warrior of her own race--whose gait, and
garb, and bravery he emulates--with all that is gallant and glorious
in the white man. And then the indulgence with which he treats her, the
finery in which he decks her out, the state in which she moves, the sway
she enjoys over both his purse and person; instead of being the drudge
and slave of an Indian husband, obliged to carry his pack, and build his
lodge, and make his fire, and bear his cross humors and dry blows.
No; there is no comparison in the eyes of an aspiring belle of the
wilderness, between a free trapper and an Indian brave.
With respect to one of the parties the matter was easily arranged. ‘The
beauty in question was a pert little Eutaw wench, that had been taken
prisoner, in some war excursion, by a Shoshonie. She was readily
ransomed for a few articles of trifling value; and forthwith figured
about the camp in fine array, “with rings on her fingers, and bells
on her toes,” and a tossed-up coquettish air that made her the envy,
admiration, and abhorrence of all the leathern-dressed, hard-working
squaws of her acquaintance.
As to the other beauty, it was quite a different matter. She had become
the wife of a Shoshonie brave. It is true, he had another wife, of
older date than the one in question; who, therefore, took command in his
household, and treated his new spouse as a slave; but the latter was
the wife of his last fancy, his latest caprice; and was precious in his
eyes. All attempt to bargain with him, therefore, was useless; the
very proposition was repulsed with anger and disdain. The spirit of
the trapper was roused, his pride was piqued as well as his passion. He
endeavored to prevail upon his quondam mistress to elope with him. His
horses were fleet, the winter nights were long and dark, before daylight
they would be beyond the reach of pursuit; and once at the encampment
in Green River Valley, they might set the whole band of Shoshonies at
defiance.
The Indian girl listened and longed. Her heart yearned after the ease
and splendor of condition of a trapper’s bride, and throbbed to be free
from the capricious control of the premier squaw; but she dreaded the
failure of the plan, and the fury of a Shoshonie husband. They parted;
the Indian girl in tears, and the madcap trapper more than ever, with
his thwarted passion.
Their interviews had, probably, been detected, and the jealousy of
the Shoshonie brave aroused: a clamor of angry voices was heard in his
lodge, with the sound of blows, and of female weeping and lamenting. At
night, as the trapper lay tossing on his pallet, a soft voice whispered
at the door of his lodge. His mistress stood trembling before him. She
was ready to follow whithersoever he should lead.
In an instant he was up and out. He had two prime horses, sure and swift
of foot, and of great wind. With stealthy quiet, they were brought up
and saddled; and in a few moments he and his prize were careering over
the snow, with which the whole country was covered. In the eagerness of
escape, they had made no provision for their journey; days must elapse
before they could reach their haven of safety, and mountains and
prairies be traversed, wrapped in all the desolation of winter. For the
present, however they thought of nothing but flight; urging their horses
forward over the dreary wastes, and fancying, in the howling of every
blast, they heard the yell of the pursuer.