in the care of Jacova, when we started from the house into the
wilderness on our trapping expedition. She had had my clothes prepared
in perfect order. I once more dressed myself decently, and spared to
my companions all my clothes that fitted them. We all had our hair
trimmed. All this had much improved our appearance. When we started
{73} on the 15th, the old gentleman gave each of us a good horse,
enabling us to travel at our ease.
On the 18th we arrived at Santa Fe, where we immediately met some of
our former companions. It hardly need be added, that the joy of this
recognition was great and mutual. We found Mr. Pratte ill in bed. He
expressed himself delighted to see me, and was still more desirous to
see my father. He informed me, that four of the company that he had
detached to trap, had been defeated by the Indians, and the majority of
them killed. He had, also, despaired of ever seeing us again. I took
a part of my goods, and started back to the mines on the 21st. None
of my companions were willing to accompany me on account of the great
apprehended danger from the Indians between this place and the mines.
In consequence, I hired a man to go with me, and having purchased what
horses I wanted, we two travelled on in company. I would have preferred
to have purchased my horses of the old governor. But I knew that his
noble nature would impel him to give them to me, and felt reluctant
to incur such an obligation. When I left his house, he insisted on my
receiving a gold chain, in token of the perpetual remembrance of his
daughter. I saw no pretext for refusing it, and as I received it, she
assured me that she should always make mention of my father and me in
her prayers.
I left this hospitable place on the 24th, taking all my clothes with
me, except the hunting shirt, which I had worn in the battle with the
Commanches. This she desired to retain, insisting, that she wished
to preserve this memorial to the day of her death. We arrived at the
mines the first day of June, having experienced no molestation from
the Indians. We continued here, making arrangements for our expedition
to bring in the furs, until the 6th. The good natured commander gave
us provisions to last us to the point where our furs were buried, and
back again. Still more, he armed ten of his laborers, and detached them
to accompany us. The company consisted of four Americans, the man hired
at Santa Fe, and the commander's ten men, fifteen in all.
{74} We left the mines on the 7th, and reached Battle-hill on Beaver
river on the 22d. I need not attempt to describe my feelings, for no
description could paint them, when I found the furs all gone, and
perceived that the Indians had discovered them and taken them away. All
that, for which we had hazarded ourselves, and suffered every thing but
death, was gone. The whole fruit of our long, toilsome and dangerous
expedition was lost, and all my golden hopes of prosperity and comfort
vanished like a dream. I tried to convince myself, that repining was of
no use, and we started for the river San Francisco on the 29th. Here
we found the small quantity buried there, our whole compensation for
a year's toil, misery and danger. We met no Indians either going or
returning.
We arrived at the mines the 8th of July, and after having rested two
days proposed to start for Santa Fe. The commander, don Juan Unis,
requested us to remain with him two or three months, to guard his
workmen from the Indians, while pursuing their employment in the woods.
He offered, as a compensation, a dollar a day. We consented to stay,
though without accepting the wages. We should have considered ourselves
ungrateful, after all the kindness, he had rendered us at the hour
of our greatest need, either to have refused the request, or to have
accepted a compensation. Consequently we made our arrangements to stay.
We passed our time most pleasantly in hunting deer and bears, of which
there were great numbers in the vicinity. We had no other duties to
perform, than to walk round in the vicinity of the workmen, or sit by
and see them work. Most of my time was spent with don Juan, who kindly
undertook to teach me to speak Spanish. Of him, having no other person
with whom to converse, I learned the language easily, and rapidly. One
month of our engagement passed off without any molestation from the
Indians. But on the first day of August, while three of us were hunting
deer, we discovered the trail of six Indians approaching the mines. We
followed the trail, and within about a mile from the mines, we came
up with them. {75} They fled, and we pursued close at their heels.
Gaining upon them, one of them dodged us, into the head of a hollow.
We surrounded him. As soon as he saw that we had discovered him, and
that escape was impossible, he sprung on his feet, threw away his bow
and arrows, and begged us most submissively not to shoot him. One of
our men made up to him, while the other man and myself stood with our
guns cocked, and raised to our faces, ready to shoot him, if he made
the least motion towards his bow. But he remained perfectly still,
crossing his hands, that we might tie them. Having done it, we drove
him on before us. We had advanced about a hundred yards from the point
where we took him, when he pointed out to us a hollow tree, intimating
that there was another Indian concealed there. We bade him instruct
his companion to make no resistance, and to surrender himself, or we
would kill him. He explained our words to his companion in the tree. He
immediately came forth from his concealment with his bow, and we tied
his hands in the same way as the other's. We marched them before us to
the mines, where we put them in prison. The Spaniards, exasperated with
their recent cruelties and murders, would have killed them. We insisted
that they should be spared, and they remained in prison until the next
morning.
We then brought them out of prison, conversed with them, and showed
them how closely we could fire. We instructed one of them to tell his
chief to come in, accompanied by all his warriors, to make peace. We
retained one of the prisoners as a hostage, assuring the other, that
if his chief did not come in to make peace, we would put the hostage to
death. In regard to the mode of making it, we engaged, that only four
of our men should meet them at a hollow, half a mile from the mine. We
enjoined it on him to bring them there within the term of four days. We
readily discovered by the tranquil countenance of our hostage, that he
had no apprehensions that they would not come in.
Afterwards, by way of precaution, my father put in requisition all
the arms he could find in the vicinity of the mines, with {76} which
he armed thirty Spaniards. He then ordered a trench dug, at a hundred
yard's distance from the point designated for the Indians to occupy.
This trench was to be occupied by our armed men, during the time of the
treaty, in case, that if the Indians should be insolent or menacing,
these men might be at hand to overawe them, or aid us, according to
circumstances.
On the 5th, we repaired to the place designated, and in a short time,
the Indians to the number of 80, came in sight. We had prepared a
pipe, tobacco, and a council fire, and had spread a blanket, on which
the chief might sit down. As soon as they came near us, they threw
down their arms. The four chiefs came up to us, and we all sat down
on the blanket. We commenced discussing the subject, for which they
were convened. We asked them, if they were ready to make a peace with
us; and if not what were the objections? They replied, that they had
no objections to a peace with the Americans, but would never make one
with the Spaniards. When we asked their reasons, they answered that
they had been long at war with the Spaniards, and that a great many
murders had been mutually inflicted on either side. They admitted, that
they had taken a great many horses from the Spaniards, but indignantly
alleged, that a large party of their people had come in to make peace
with the Spaniards, of which they pretended to be very desirous; that
with such pretexts, they had decoyed the party within their walls, and
then commenced butchering them like a flock of sheep. The very few who
had escaped, had taken an unalterable resolution never to make peace
with them. 'In pursuance,' they continued, 'of our purposes of revenge,
great numbers of our nation went in among the Spaniards, and were
baptized. There they remain faithful spies for us, informing us when
and where there were favorable opportunities to kill, and plunder our
enemies.'
We told them in reply, that if they really felt disposed to be at peace
with the Americans, these mines were now working jointly by us and
the Spaniards; that it was wrong in them to revenge the crimes of the
guilty upon the innocent, and that {77} these Spaniards had taken no
part in the cowardly and cruel butchery, of which they had spoken; and
that if they would not be peaceable, and allow us to work the mines
unmolested, the Americans would consider them at war, and would raise
a sufficient body of men to pursue them to their lurking places in the
mountains; that they had good evidence that our people could travel
in the woods and among the mountains, as well as themselves; and that
we could shoot a great deal better than either they or the Spaniards,
and that we had no cowards among us, but true men, who had no fear and
would keep their word.
The chiefs answered, that if the mines belonged to the Americans, they
would promise never to disturb the people that worked them. We left
them, therefore, to infer that the mines belonged to us, and took them
at their word. We then lit the pipe, and all the Indians gathered in
a circle round the fire. The four chiefs, each in succession made a
long speech, in which we could often distinguish the terms Americans,
and Espanola. The men listened with profound attention, occasionally
sanctioning what was said by a nod of the head. We then commenced
smoking, and the pipe passed twice round the circle. They then dug a
hole in the ground in the centre of the circle, and each one spat in
it. They then filled it up with earth, danced round it, and stuck their
arrows in the little mound. They then gathered a large pile of stones
over it, and painted themselves red. Such are their ceremonies of
making peace. All the forms of the ceremony were familiar to us, except
the pile of stones, and spitting in the hole they had dug, which are
not practised by the Indians on the American frontiers. We asked them
the meaning of the spitting. They said, that they did it in token of
spitting out all their spite and revenge, and burying their anger under
the ground.
It was two o'clock before all these ceremonies were finished. We then
showed them our reserve force in the trench. They evinced great alarm
to see their enemies the Spaniards so close to them, and all ready for
action. We explained to them, that we intended to be in good faith, if
they were; and that these {78} men were posted there, only in case they
showed a disposition to violence. Their fears vanished and tranquility
returned to their countenances. The chiefs laughed, and said to each
other, these Americans know how to fight, and make peace too. But were
they to fight us, they would have to get a company entirely of their
own people; for that if they took any Spaniards into their company,
they would be sure to desert them in the time of action.
We thence all marched to the mines, where we killed three beeves to
feed the Indians. After they had eaten, and were in excellent humor,
the head chief made a present to my father, of ten miles square of
a tract of land lying on a river about three miles from the mines.
It was very favorable for cultivation, and the Spaniards had several
times attempted to make a crop of grain upon it; but the Indians had
as often either killed the cultivators, or destroyed the grain. My
father informed them, that though the land might be his, he should be
obliged to employ Spaniards to cultivate it for him; and that, having
made the land his, they must consider these cultivators his people, and
not molest them. With a look of great firmness, the chief said 'that
he was a man of truth, and had given his word, and that we should find
that nothing belonging to the mines would be disturbed, for that he
never would allow the treaty to be violated.' He went on to add, 'that
he wanted to be at peace with us, because he had discovered, that the
Americans never showed any disposition to kill, except in battle; that
they had had a proof of this in our not killing the two prisoners we
had taken; but had sent one of them to invite his people to come in,
and make peace with us, and that he took pleasure in making known to
us, that they were good people too, and had no wish to injure men that
did not disturb or injure them.'
All this farce of bringing the Indians to terms of peace with this
establishment was of infinite service to the Spaniards, though of none
to us; for we neither had any interest in the mines, nor intended
to stay there much longer. But we were glad to oblige don Juan who
had been so great a benefactor {79} to us. He, on his part, was most
thankful to us; for he could now work the mines without any risk of
losing men or cattle. He could now raise his own grain, which he had
hitherto been obliged to pack 200 miles, not without having many of
those engaged in bringing it, either killed or robbed. The Indians now
had so much changed their deportment as to bring in horses or cows,
that they found astray from the mines. They regularly brought in deer
and turkies to sell, which don Juan, to keep alive their friendship,
purchased, whether he needed the articles or not. Every day more or
less Indians came into the settlement to go and hunt deer and bears
with us. They were astonished at the closeness of our shooting; and
nothing seemed to delight them so much, as our telling them, we would
learn them to shoot our guns. My father had the honor to be denominated
in their language, _the big Captain_.
Don Juan, apprehending that the truce with the Indians would last no
longer than while we staid, and that after our departure, the Indians
would resume their former habits of robbery and murder, was desirous
to retain us as long as possible. We agreed to stay until December,
when our plan was to commence another trapping expedition on the
Helay, following it down to its mouth. With every disposition on the
part of don Juan to render our stay agreeable, the time passed away
pleasantly. On the 16th of September, the priest, to whose diocese the
mines belonged, made a visit to the mines, to release the spirits of
those who had died since his last visit, from purgatory, and to make
Christians by baptising the little persons who had been born in the
same time.
This old priest, out of a reverend regard to his own person, had fled
from this settlement at the commencement of the Indian disturbances;
and had not returned until now, when the Indians had made peace. A body
of Indians happened to be in, when the priest came. We were exceedingly
amused with the interview between the priest and an Indian chief, who,
from having had one of his hands bitten off by a bear, was called
_Mocho Mano_. The priest asked the one handed chief, why {80} he did
not offer himself for baptism? Mocho remained silent for some time, as
if ruminating an answer. He then said, 'the Appache chief is a very big
rogue now. Should he get his crown sprinkled with holy water, it would
either do him no good at all, or if it had any effect, would make him a
greater rogue; for that the priests, who made the water holy, and then
went sprinkling it about among the people for money, were the biggest
rogues of all.' This made the priest as angry as it made us merry.
When we had done laughing, Mocho asked us, how we baptised among our
people? I answered that we had two ways of performing it; but that
one way was, to plunge the baptised person under water. He replied
promptly, 'now there is some sense in that;' adding that when a great
quantity of rain fell from the clouds, it made the grass grow; but
that it seemed to him that sprinkling a few drops of water amounted to
nothing.
The priest, meanwhile, prophesied, that the peace between the Spaniards
and Indians would be of very short duration. On the 18th, he left the
mines, and returned to the place whence he had come. On the 20th, we
started with some Indian guides to see a mountain of salt, that they
assured us existed in their country. We travelled a northerly course
through a heavily timbered country, the trees chiefly of pine and live
oak. We killed a great number of bears and deer on the first day; and
on account of their reverence for my father, they treated me as if I
had been a prince. On the second we arrived at the salt hill, which is
about one hundred miles north of the mines. The hill is about a quarter
of a mile in length, and on the front side of it is the salt bluff,
eight or ten feet in thickness. It has the appearance of a black rock,
divided from the earthy matters, with which the salt is mixed. What was
to me the most curious circumstance of the whole, was to see a fresh
water spring boiling up within twenty feet from the salt bluff, which
is a detached and solitary hill, rising out of a valley, which is of
the richest and blackest soil, and heavily timbered {81} with oak,
ash and black walnut. I remained here two days, during which I killed
fifteen deer, that came to lick salt.
An Indian woman of our company dressed all my deer skins, and we loaded
two mules with the salt, and started back to the mines, where we
arrived the first of October. Nothing could have been more seasonable
or acceptable to don Juan, than the salt we brought with us. Having
mentioned these mines so often, perhaps it may not be amiss, to give a
few details respecting them. Within the circumference of three miles,
there is a mine of copper, gold and silver, and beside, a cliff of load
stone. The silver mine is not worked, as not being so profitable, as
either the copper or gold mines.
We remained here to the last of December, when the settlement was
visited by a company of French trappers, who were bound for Red
river.[61] We immediately made preparations to return with them, which
again revived the apprehensions of don Juan, that the Indians would
break in upon the settlement as soon as we were gone, and again put an
end to the working of the mines. To detain us effectually, he proposed
to rent the mines to us for five years, at a thousand dollars a year.
He was willing to furnish provisions for the first year gratis, and
pay us for all the improvements we should make on the establishment.
We could not but be aware, that this was an excellent offer. My
father accepted it. The writings were drawn, and my father rented the
establishment on his own account, selecting such partners as he chose.
I, meanwhile, felt within me an irresistible propensity to resume the
employment of trapping. I had a desire, which I can hardly describe, to
see more of this strange and new country. My father suffered greatly in
the view of my parting with him, and attempted to dissuade me from it.
He strongly painted the dangers of the route, and represented to me,
that I should not find these Frenchmen like my own country people, for
companions. All was unavailing to change my fixed purpose, and we left
the mines, January 2d, 1826.
We travelled down the river Helay, of which I have formerly {82}
given a description, as far as the point where we had left it for
Battle-hill. Here, although we saw fresh Indian signs, we met with no
Indians. Where we encamped for the night, there were arrows sticking
in the ground. We made an early start on the 16th, and at evening
came upon the self same party of Indians, that had robbed us of our
horses, the year past. Some of them had on articles of my father's
clothes, that he had left where we buried our furs. They had made our
beaver skins into robes, which we now purchased of them. While this
bargain was transacting, I observed one of the Indians mounted on the
self same horse, on which my father had travelled from the States. My
blood instantly boiled within me, and, presenting my gun at him, I
ordered him instantly to dismount. He immediately did as I bade him,
and at once a trepidation and alarm ran through the whole party. They
were but twenty men, and they were encumbered with women and children.
We were thirteen, well mounted and armed. The chief of the party came
to me, and asked me, 'if I knew this horse?' I answered, that 'I did,
and that it was mine.' He asked me again, 'if we were the party, whose
horses and furs they had taken the year before?' I answered, that I
was one of them, and that if he did not cause my furs and horses to be
delivered up to me, we would kill them all on the spot. He immediately
brought me 150 skins and three horses, observing, that they had been
famished, and had eaten the rest, and that he hoped this would satisfy
me, for that in the battle they had suffered more than we, he having
lost ten men, and we having taken from them four horses with their
saddles and bridles. I observed to him in reply, that he must remember
that they were the aggressors, and had provoked the quarrel, in having
robbed us of our horses, and attempting to kill us. He admitted that
they were the aggressors, in beginning the quarrel, but added, by way
of apology, that they had thought us Spaniards, not knowing that we
were Americans; but that now, when he knew us, he was willing to make
peace, and be in perpetual friendship. On this we lit the pipe of
peace, and smoked friends. I gave him some red {83} cloth, with which
he was delighted. I then asked him about the different nations, through
which our route would lead us? He named four nations, with names,
as he pronounced them, sufficiently barbarous. All these nations he
described as bad, treacherous and quarrelsome.
Though it was late in the evening, we resumed our march, until we had
reached the point where the river runs between mountains, and where I
had turned back the year before. There is here little timber, beside
musqueto-wood, which stands thick. We passed through the country of
the first two tribes, which the Indian chief had described to us,
without meeting an individual of them. On the 25th, we arrived at an
Indian village situated on the south bank of the river. Almost all the
inhabitants of this village speak Spanish, for it is situated only
three days journey from a Spanish fort in the province of Sonora,[62]
through which province this river runs. The Indians seemed disposed
to be friendly to us. They are to a considerable degree cultivators,
raising wheat, corn and cotton, which they manufacture into cloths. We
left this village on the 25th, and on the 28th in the evening arrived
at the Papawar village, the inhabitants of which came running to meet
us, with their faces painted, and their bows and arrows in their hands.
We were alarmed at these hostile appearances, and halted. We told them
that we were friends, at which they threw down their arms, laughing
the while, and showing by their countenances that they were aware that
we were frightened. We entered the village, and the French began to
manifest their uncontrollable curiosity, by strolling about in every
direction. I noted several crowds of Indians, collected in gangs, and
talking earnestly. I called the leader of my French companions, and
informed him that I did not like these movements of the Indians, and
was fearful that they were laying a plan to cut us all up. He laughed
at my fears, telling me I was a coward. I replied, that I did not think
that to be cautious, and on our guard, was to show cowardice, and that
I still thought it best for us to start {84} off. At this he became
angry, and told me that I might go when I pleased, and that he would go
when he was ready.