time in Missouri; I proposed to him to join me, and we would leave the
village and encamp by ourselves. He consented, and we went out of the
village to the distance of about 400 yards, under the pretext of going
there to feed our horses. When the sun was about half an hour high, I
observed the French captain coming out towards us, accompanied by a
great number of Indians, all armed with bows and arrows. This confirmed
me in my conviction that they intended us no good. Expressing my
apprehensions to my French companion, he observed in his peculiar style
of English, that the captain was too proud and headstrong, to allow him
to receive instruction from any one, for that he thought nobody knew
any thing but himself.
Agreeing that we had best take care of ourselves, we made us a fire,
and commenced our arrangements for spending the night. We took care not
to unsaddle our horses, but to be in readiness to be off at a moment's
warning. Our French captain came and encamped within a hundred yards
of us, accompanied by not less than a hundred Indians. They were all
exceedingly officious in helping the party unpack their mules; and in
persuading the captain, that there was no danger in turning them all
loose, they promised that they would guard them with their own horses.
This proposal delighted the lazy Frenchmen, who hated to go through
the details of preparing for encampment, and had a particular dislike
to standing guard in the night. The Indian chief then proposed to
the captain to stack their arms against a tree, that stood close by.
To this also, under a kind of spell of infatuation he consented. The
Indian chief took a rope, and tied the arms fast to a tree.
As I saw this, I told the captain that it seemed to me no mark of their
being friendly, for them to retain their own arms, and persuade us to
putting ours out of our power, and that one, who had known Indians,
ought to be better acquainted with their character, than to encamp with
them, without his men having {85} their own arms in their hand. On this
he flew into a most violent passion, calling me, with a curse added
to the epithet, a coward, wishing to God that he had never taken me
with him, to dishearten his men, and render them insubordinate. Being
remarkable neither for forbearance, or failing to pay a debt of hard
words, I gave him as good as he sent, telling him, among other things
no ways flattering, that he was a liar and a fool, for that none other
than a fool would disarm his men, and go to sleep in the midst of armed
savages in the woods. To this he replied, that he would not allow me
to travel any longer in his company. I answered that I was not only
willing, but desirous to leave him, for that I considered myself safer
in my own single keeping, than under the escort of such a captain,
and that I estimated him only to have sense enough to lead people to
destruction.
He still continued to mutter harsh language in reply, as I returned
to my own camp. It being now dusk, we prepared, and ate our supper.
We had just finished it, when the head chief of the village came to
invite us to take our supper with them, adding, by way of inducement,
that they had brought some fine pumpkins to camp, and had cooked them
for the white people. We told him, we had taken supper; and the more
he insisted, the more resolutely we refused. Like the French captain,
he began to abuse us, telling us we had bad hearts. We told him,
that when with such people, we chose rather to trust to our heads
than our hearts. He then asked us to let some of his warriors come
and sleep with us, and share our blankets, alleging, as a reason for
the request, that the nights were cold, and his warriors too poor to
buy blankets. We told him, that he could easily see that we were poor
also, and were no ways abundantly supplied with blankets, and that we
should not allow them to sleep with us. He then marched off to the
French camp, evidently sulky and in bad temper. While roundly rating us
to the French captain, he gave as a reason why we ought not to sleep
by ourselves, that we were in danger of being killed in the night by
another tribe of Indians, with whom he was at war.
{86} The captain, apparently more calm, came to us, and told us, that
our conduct was both imprudent and improper, in not conciliating the
Indians by consenting to eat with them, or allowing them to sleep
with us. My temper not having been at all sweetened by any thing that
had occurred since we fell out, I told him, that if he had a fancy to
eat, or sleep with these Indians, I had neither power nor the will
to control him; but that, being determined, that neither he nor they
should sleep with me, he had better go about his business, and not
disturb me with useless importunity. At this he began again to abuse
and revile me, to which I made no return. At length, having exhausted
his stock of epithets, he returned to his camp.
As soon as we were by ourselves, we began to cut grass for our horses,
not intending either to unsaddle, or let them loose for the night. My
companion and myself were alike convinced, that some catastrophe was in
reserve from the Indians, and seeing no chance of defending ourselves
against an odds of more than twenty to one, we concluded, as soon as
all should be silent in the camp, to fly. We packed our mules so as to
leave none of our effects behind, and kept awake. We remained thus,
until near midnight, when we heard a fierce whistle, which we instantly
understood to be the signal for an attack on the French camp. But a
moment ensued, before we heard the clashing of war clubs, followed by
the shrieks and heavy groans of the dying French, mingled with the
louder and more horrible yells of these treacherous and blood thirsty
savages. A moment afterwards, we heard a party of them making towards
us. To convince them that they could not butcher us in our defenceless
sleep, we fired upon them. This caused them to retreat. Convinced that
we had no time to lose, we mounted our horses, and fled at the extent
of our speed. We heard a single gun discharged in the Indian camp,
which we supposed the act of an Indian, who had killed the owner. We
took our direction towards a high mountain on the south side of the
river, and pushed for it as fast as we thought our horses could endure
to be driven. We reached the mountain at day break, {87} and made our
way about three miles up a creek, that issued from the mountain. Here
we stopped to refresh our horses, and let them feed, and take food
ourselves. The passage of the creek was along a kind of crevice of the
mountain, and we were strongly convinced that the Indians would not
follow upon our trail further than the entrance to the mountain. One
of us ascended a high ridge, to survey whatever might be within view.
My companion, having passed nearly an hour in the survey, returned to
me, and said he saw something on the plain approaching us. I ascended
with him to the same place, and plainly perceived something black
approaching us. Having watched it for some time, I thought it a bear.
At length it reached a tree on the plain, and ascended it. We were
then convinced, that it was no Indian, but a bear searching food. We
could see the smokes arising from the Indian town, and had no doubt,
that the savages were dancing at the moment around the scalps of the
unfortunate Frenchmen, who had fallen the victims of their indolence
and rash confidence in these faithless people. All anger for their
abuse of me for my timely advice was swallowed up in pity for their
fate. But yesterday these people were the merriest of the merry. What
were they now? Waiting a few moments, we saw the supposed bear descend
the tree, and advance directly to the branch on which we were encamped.
We had observed that the water of this branch, almost immediately
upon touching the plain, was lost in the arid sand, and gave no other
evidence of its existence, than a few green trees. In a moment we saw
buttons glitter on this object from the reflected glare of the sun's
rays. We were undeceived in regard to our bear, and now supposed it
an Indian, decorated with a coat of the unfortunate Frenchmen. We
concluded to allow him to approach close enough to satisfy our doubts,
before we fired upon him. We lay still, until he came within fair rifle
distance, when to our astonishment, we discovered it to be the French
captain! We instantly made ourselves known from our perch. He uttered
an exclamation of joy, and fell prostrate on the earth. Fatigue and
{88} thirst had brought him to death's door. We raised him, and carried
him to our camp. He was wounded in the head and face with many and deep
wounds, the swelling of which had given him fever. I happened to have
with me some salve, which my father gave me when I left the mines.
I dressed his wounds. Having taken food, and sated his thirst, hope
returned to him. So great was his change in a few hours, that he was
able to move off with us that evening. In his present miserable and
forlorn condition, I exercised too much humanity and forbearance to
think of adverting to our quarrel of the preceding evening. Probably
estimating my forbearance aright, he himself led to the subject. He
observed in a tone apparently of deep compunction, that if he had had
the good sense and good temper to have listened to my apprehensions and
cautions, both he and his people might have been now gaily riding over
the prairies. Oppressed with mixed feelings, I hardly knew what reply
to make, and only remarked, that it was too late now to lament over
what was unchangeable, and that the will of God had been done. After a
silence of some time, he resumed the conversation, and related all the
particulars of the terrible disaster, that had come to his knowledge.
His own escape he owed to retaining a pocket pistol, when the rest of
their arms were stacked. This he fired at an Indian approaching him,
who fell, and thus enabled him to fly; not, however, until he had
received a number of severe wounds from their clubs. I had not the
heart to hear him relate what became of the rest of his comrades. I
could easily divine that the treacherous savages had murdered every
one. Feelings of deep and burning revenge arose in my bosom, and I
longed for nothing so much as to meet with these monsters on any thing
like terms of equality. About sunset we could distinctly discern the
river bottom about five miles distant from us. When it became dark, we
descried three fires close together, which we judged to be those of
savages in pursuit of us. Like some white people, the Indians never
forgive any persons that they have outraged and injured. We halted, and
took counsel, what {89} was to be done. We concluded that my companion
and myself should leave our wounded companion to take care of the
horses, and go and reconnoitre the camp, in which were these fires, and
discover the number of the Indians, and if it was great, to see how
we could be most likely to pass them unobserved. When we had arrived
close to the fires, we discovered a considerable number of horses tied,
and only two men guarding them. We crawled still closer, to be able to
discern their exact number and situation.
In this way we arrived within fifty yards of their camp, and could see
no one, but the two, any where in the distance. We concluded, that all
the rest of the company were asleep in some place out of our view. We
presumed it would not be long before some of them would awake, it
being now ten at night. Our intention was to take aim at them, as they
should pass between us and their fire, and drop them both together.
We could distinctly hear them speaking about their horses. At length
one of them called to the other, in English, to go and wake their
relief guards. Words would poorly express my feelings, at hearing these
beloved sounds. I sprang from my crouching posture, and ran towards
them. They were just ready to shoot me, when I cried _a friend_, _a
friend_! One of them exclaimed, 'where in God's name did you spring
from.' 'You seem to have come out of the earth.' The surprise and joy
upon mutual recognition was great on both sides. I gave him a brief
sketch of the recent catastrophe of our company, as we followed them
to camp. The company was all roused and gathered round us, eagerly
listening to the recital of our recent disaster. At hearing my sad
story, they expressed the hearty sorrow of good and true men, and
joined us in purposes of vengeance against the Indians.
We were now thirty-two in all. We fired twelve guns, a signal which the
wounded captain heard and understood, for he immediately joined us.
We waited impatiently for the morning. As soon as it was bright dawn,
we all formed under a genuine American leader, who could be entirely
relied upon. {90} His orders were, that twenty should march in front of
the pack horses, and twelve behind. In the evening we encamped within
five miles of the Indian village, and made no fires. In the morning
of the 31st, we examined all our arms, and twenty-six of us started
to attack the village. When we had arrived close to it, we discovered
most fortunately, what we considered the dry bed of a creek, though we
afterwards discovered it to be the old bed of the river, that had very
high banks, and ran within a hundred yards of the village. In this bed
we all formed ourselves securely and at our leisure, and marched quite
near to the verge of the village without being discovered. Every man
posted himself in readiness to fire. Two of our men were then ordered
to show themselves on the top of the bank. They were immediately
discovered by the Indians, who considered them, I imagine, a couple of
the Frenchmen that they had failed to kill. They raised the yell, and
ran towards the two persons, who instantly dropped down under the bank.
There must have been at least 200 in pursuit. They were in a moment
close on the bank. In order to prevent the escape of the two men, they
spread into a kind of circle to surround them. This brought the whole
body abreast of us. We allowed them to approach within twenty yards,
when we gave them our fire. They commenced a precipitate retreat, we
loading and firing as fast as was in our power. They made no pause in
their village, but ran off, men, women and children, towards a mountain
distant 700 yards from their village. In less than ten minutes, the
village was so completely evacuated, that not a human being was to be
found, save one poor old blind and deaf Indian, who sat eating his mush
as unconcernedly as if all had been tranquil in the village. We did not
molest him.
We appropriated to our own use whatever we found in the village that
we judged would be of any service to us. We then set fire to their
wigwams, and returned to our camp. They were paid a bloody price for
their treachery, for 110 of them were slain. At twelve we returned to
the village in a body, and retook all the horses of the Frenchmen, that
they had killed. {91} We then undertook the sad duty of burying the
remains of the unfortunate Frenchmen. A sight more horrible to behold,
I have never seen. They were literally cut in pieces, and fragments of
their bodies scattered in every direction, round which the monsters
had danced, and yelled. We then descended the river about a mile below
the village, to the point where it enters the Helay from the north. It
affords as much water at this point as the Helay.
In the morning of the 1st of February, we began to ascend Black
river.[63] We found it to abound with beavers. It is a most beautiful
stream, bounded on each side with high and rich bottoms. We travelled
up this stream to the point where it forks in the mountains; that is
to say, about 80 miles from its mouth. Here our company divided, a
part ascending one fork, and a part the other. The left fork heads
due north, and the right fork north east. It was my lot to ascend the
latter. It heads in mountains covered with snow, near the head of the
left hand fork of the San Francisco. On the 16th, we all met again at
the junction of the forks. The other division found that their fork
headed in snow covered mountains, as they supposed near the waters of
Red river. They had also met a tribe of Indians, who called themselves
_Mokee_.[64] They found them no ways disposed to hostility. From their
deportment it would seem as if they had never seen white people before.
At the report of a gun they fell prostrate on the ground. They knew
no other weapon of war than a sling, and with this they had so much
dexterity and power, that they were able to bring down a deer at the
distance of 100 yards.
We thence returned down the Helay, which is here about 200 yards wide,
with heavily timbered bottoms. We trapped its whole course, from where
we met it, to its junction with Red river. The point of junction is
inhabited by a tribe of Indians called Umene.[65] Here we encamped for
the night. On the morning of the 26th, a great many of these Indians
crossed the river to our camp, and brought us dried beans, for which we
paid them with red cloth, with which they were delighted beyond {92}
measure, tearing it into ribbands, and tieing it round their arms and
legs; for if the truth must be told, they were as naked as Adam and Eve
in their birth day suit. They were the stoutest men, with the finest
forms I ever saw, well proportioned, and as straight as an arrow.
They contrive, however, to inflict upon their children an artificial
deformity. They flatten their heads, by pressing a board upon their
tender scalps, which they bind fast by a ligature. This board is so
large and light, that I have seen women, when swimming the river with
their children, towing them after them by a string, which they held in
their mouth. The little things neither suffered nor complained, but
floated behind their mothers like ducks.
At twelve we started up Red river, which is between two and three
hundred yards wide, a deep, bold stream, and the water at this
point entirely clear. The bottoms are a mile in general width, with
exceedingly high, barren cliffs. The timber of the bottoms is very
heavy, and the grass rank and high. Near the river are many small
lakes, which abound in beavers.
March 1st we came among a tribe of Indians, called Cocomarecopper. At
sight of us they deserted their wigwams, one and all, and fled to the
mountains, leaving all their effects at our discretion. Of course we
did not meddle with any thing. Their corn was knee high. We took care
not to let our horses injure it, but marched as fast as we could from
their village, to deprive them of their homes [in] as little time as
possible. About four miles above the town we encamped, and set our
traps. About twelve next day it began to rain, and we pitched our tents.
We had scarce kindled our fires, when 100 Indians came to our camp,
all painted red in token of amity. They asked fire, and when we had
given it, they went about 20 yards from us, and as the rain had been
heavy and the air cool, they made a great fire, round which they all
huddled. We gave them the bodies of six large fat beavers, which
they cooked by digging holes in the ground, at the bottom of which
they kindled fires, and on the fires threw the beavers which they
covered with dirt. This dainty, thus prepared they greedily devoured,
entrails {93} and all. Next morning, fearful that our guns might have
experienced inconvenience from the rain, we fired them off to load them
afresh. They were amazed and alarmed, to see us make, what they called
thunder and lightning. They were still more startled, to see the bullet
holes in the tree, at which we had aimed. We made signs to them, that
one ball would pass through the body of two men. Some of our men had
brought with them some scalps of the Papawars, the name of the tribe
where our French captain lost his company. They informed us that they
were at war with that tribe, and begged some of the scalps to dance
round. They were given them, and they began to cut their horrid anticks
about it.
Our traps had taken thirty beavers the last night. We gave them the
meat of twenty, with which present they were delighted, their gratitude
inducing them to manifest affection to us. They ate and danced all
day and most of the night. On the morning of the 3d, they left us,
returning to their camps. We resumed our march, and on the 6th arrived
at another village of Indians called Mohawa. When we approached their
village, they were exceedingly alarmed. We marched directly through
their village, the women and children screaming, and hiding themselves
in their huts. We encamped about three miles above the village. We had
scarcely made our arrangements for the night, when 100 of these Indians
followed us. The chief was a dark and sulky looking savage, and he
made signs that he wanted us to give him a horse. We made as prompt
signs of refusal. He replied to this, by pointing first to the river,
and then at the furs we had taken, intimating, that the river, with
all it contained, belonged to him; and that we ought to pay him for
what we had taken, by giving him a horse. When he was again refused,
he raised himself erect, with a stern and fierce air, and discharged
his arrow into the tree, at the same time raising his hand to his
mouth, and making their peculiar yell. Our captain made no other reply,
than by raising his gun and shooting the arrow, as it still stuck
in the tree, in two. The chief seemed bewildered with this mark of
close {94} markmanship, and started off with his men. We had no small
apprehensions of a night attack from these Indians. We erected a hasty
fortification with logs and skins, but sufficiently high and thick,
to arrest their arrows in case of attack. The night, contrary to our
fears, passed without interruption from them. On the morning of the
7th, the chief returned on horse back, and in the same sulky tone again
demanded a horse. The captain bade him be off, in a language and with
a tone alike understood by all people. He started off on full gallop,
and as he passed one of our horses, that was tied a few yards from the
camp, he fired a spear through the animal. He had not the pleasure to
exult in his revenge for more than fifty yards, before he fell pierced
by four bullets. We could not doubt, that the Indians would attempt
to revenge the death of their chief. After due consideration, we saw
no better place in which to await their attack, than the one we now
occupied. On the rear we were defended by the river, and in front by an
open prairie. We made a complete breastwork, and posted spies in the
limbs of the tall trees, to descry the Indians, if any approached us,
while still at a distance. No Indians approached us through the day,
and at night a heavy rain commenced falling. We posted sentinels, and
secured our horses under the river bank. We kindled no fires, and we
passed the night without annoyance. But at day break, they let fly at
us a shower of arrows. Of these we took no notice. Perhaps, thinking
us intimidated, they then raised the war whoop, and made a charge
upon us. At the distance of 150 yards we gave them a volley of rifle
balls. This brought them to a halt, and a moment after to a retreat,
more rapid than their advance had been. We sallied out after them, and
gave them the second round, which induced all, that were not forever
stopped, to fly at the top of their speed. We had killed sixteen of
their number. We returned to our camp, packed, and started, having made
a determination not to allow any more Indians to enter our camp. This
affair happened on the 9th.
We pushed on as rapidly as possible, fearful that these red {95}
children of the desert, who appear to inherit an equal hatred of
all whites, would follow us, and attack us in the night. With
timely warning we had no fear of them by day, but the affair of the
destruction of the French company, proved that they might become
formidable foes by night. To prevent, as far as might be, such
accidents, we raised a fortification round our camp every night,
until we considered ourselves out of their reach, which was on the
evening of the 12th. This evening we erected no breast-work, placed no
other guard than one person to watch our horses, and threw ourselves
in careless security round our fires. We had taken very little rest
for four nights, and being exceedingly drowsy, we had scarcely laid
ourselves down, before we were sound asleep. The Indians had still
followed us, too far off to be seen by day, but had probably surveyed
our camp each night. At about 11 o'clock this night, they poured upon
us a shower of arrows, by which they killed two men, and wounded two
more; and what was most provoking, fled so rapidly that we could not
even give them a round. One of the slain was in bed with me. My own
hunting shirt had two arrows in it, and my blanket was pinned fast to
the ground by arrows. There were sixteen arrows discharged into my bed.
We extinguished our fires, and it may easily be imagined, slept no more
that night.