TROUBLE WITH WHISKEY TRADERS
The travelers remained here for several days, climbing the mountains to
hunt, fishing and leading a generally lazy life. The weather was bright
and clear, with a warm sun, and these idle days were greatly enjoyed.
In some of the deep holes in the inlet were great schools of monster
trout, to the capturing of which Jack gave much time. Crossing the inlet
and going up on the flat to where the great river left the lakes, he
found several places where he could cast his flies over the
swift-running water, and from behind the great rocks over which the
stream flowed in a deep smooth current he took some goodly fish.
Joe delighted to sit on the bank and watch the casting, for he said,
“Jack, some day you’ll get one of those big fellows, and he’ll smash
that little limber pole of yours all to pieces. That’s what I’m waiting
for.”
On one or two occasions Jack almost feared that Joe was to have his
wish; the biggest fish that he caught came very near taking away his
tackle, for the fish was so powerful that when he ran down stream Jack
was obliged to race along the shore as hard as he could, jumping from
rock to rock, and plowing through shallow water before he got to a deep
pool where the fish stopped of its own accord, and he was able to
recover his line.
It seemed to Jack a full hour before he had tired the fish sufficiently
to tow it on its side into the shallow water of a little bay.
Joe, who had followed him in much excitement, went around and very
cautiously approached the fish from the water and at last threw himself
upon it and getting his fingers into its gills dragged it triumphantly
ashore.
When it was fairly landed Jack was astonished at its size, for it seemed
to him bigger than any Hudson River shad that he had seen, and when he
took it to camp, Hugh, lifting it with one hand, declared that it
weighed more than eight pounds.
They had all talked several times about starting for the Agency, but
were reluctant to leave this charming spot, and still remained. One
afternoon when Jack and Joe returned from fishing at the head of the
inlet stream, they saw just below their own tent another, about which
two or three men were moving. Moored to the shore of the inlet was a
flat-bottomed boat by which the men had come, though Jack could not
understand how they had pushed it up the swift stream to this point.
As they came to the border of the stream and were about to ride in, Jack
said to Joe, “Do you know any of those men, Joe?”
“Yes,” said Joe, “two of them I know, that white man and the half-breed
down by the water. The white man is John Williamson and the half-breed
is Louis Legros. I don’t know that other big man.”
When they unsaddled, Jack noticed that Hugh, who had come out of the
tent, looked rather grave, and after the horses had been turned loose,
he said to the boys in a low voice, “Those fellows down below here look
to me like whiskey traders. There has been a bunch of Bloods up here
to-day, and when they went away some of them were drunk, I think. These
men have been singing and making plenty of noise this afternoon, and
they may give us a little trouble. I want you boys to be careful and not
have any words with them, no matter what they do. If there’s going to be
any rowing or jawing let me do the talking.”
While supper was cooking, the neighboring tent grew more and more noisy.
The men there were singing and shouting and sometimes giving Indian
warwhoops, and once or twice the big man came out of the tent and,
calling out, invited the three travelers to come over and have a drink
with them, but they returned no answer to the invitation.
The sun was still an hour or two high, and Hugh, Jack and Joe were
eating their supper, when suddenly a shot sounded from the neighboring
tent and at the same time a chip flew from the front tent pole, showing
that the ball must have passed three or four feet over their heads.
Hugh called out, “Be careful with your shooting irons over there. You
came pretty near hitting one of us,” but the only reply was a volley of
angry curses from the adjoining tent.
A few minutes later the big man came out and stood not far from his own
tent and raising a revolver which he held in his right hand, fired two
shots in quick succession over the heads of the three who were still
eating. The boys did not know what to do, but Hugh slowly rose to his
feet, and saying to the boys, “Keep quiet now and don’t mix up in this
unless you are told to,” walked over to the big man.
As Hugh walked up close, the big man began to abuse him violently and
once or twice half raised his hand to point the revolver at him, but
evidently thought better of it.
Meanwhile, the man’s two companions had come out of the tent, the white
man laughing in a silly fashion and the half-breed more or less
frightened and earnestly imploring his companion, whom he addressed as
Tony, to come away.
The latter, however, seemed fascinated by Hugh, and no longer moved nor
spoke, while Hugh took hold of his wrist, wrenched the revolver away
from him and threw it on the ground, where Jack picked it up. Then
turning Tony about, so that he faced his friends, Hugh said: “Now you
three men break camp quick and get out of here. I won’t have you round
any longer.”
Hugh’s speech seemed to break the spell under which the man had been
laboring, for he raised his fist and struck at Hugh. Before the blow
reached him, however, Hugh had thrown his arms about the big man just
below the shoulders, pinioning both his arms to his sides.
Tony tried to free himself, but he could not. He struggled violently and
then tried to kick, but Hugh stood firm, seeming to hold the man tighter
and tighter to his chest, and in a moment Tony had forgotten all about
fighting and was screaming with the pain of the pressure.
[Illustration: “HUGH TOOK HOLD OF HIS WRIST AND WRENCHED THE REVOLVER
AWAY FROM HIM.”--_Page 292_]
It was exciting to both the boys, and they waited, not knowing what
to do, astonished to see this man, who looked like a giant, held as if
he were a little child by Hugh, who, though tall, was rather slender,
and on account of his white hair and beard appeared to them venerable.
After a few seconds Tony was weeping and praying to be released, and
promising to do anything he was told to if only he were set free. Hugh
somewhat relaxed his embrace and said, “Now, you Williamson and you
Louis, are you ready to go?”
“Yes, Hugh,” said the white man, “you bet we’ll go quick;” and Louis
assented.
“Have you got any arms, any pistols or guns?” said Hugh.
“Yes,” said Williamson, “I’ve got my rifle here and Louis has a six
shooter.”
“Well,” said Hugh, “bring ’em out and put ’em on the ground here, with
all your ammunition, and we’ll take ’em into the Agency and leave them
there for you.” Then, raising his voice a little, he called, “Boys, come
over here.”
Jack and Joe came up and Hugh said, “Now, take these men’s guns and
ammunition and carry them over to our tent and then come back.”
The men gave up their arms and cartridges, and the boys took them away
and then returned.
“Now,” said Hugh, “take down that tent and get everything you’ve got
into the boat. Now, Tony,” he said, addressing the man whom he held, “if
I let you go, will you be quiet, and go and get into that boat and go
away?”
“You bet I will,” said Tony, “I’d like to get as far from you as I
could.”
“Go on,” said Hugh. “Go down to the boat and sit there,” and the man
staggered off.
“Now,” said Hugh, “you men are drunk, both of you; and sometimes drunken
men tell lies. I want to look through your baggage and see if you have
any arms.”
He searched their blankets, but found nothing. Then he and the boys
helped the three men take down their tent and carry their property down
to the boat, and then before they pushed off, Hugh said, “Now, I know
you’ve got some friends down here, Bloods, I think, and you may as well
go down and camp with them, but don’t try to get the Indians to trouble
us. You Williamson and you Louis, know me. This man here,” and he
pointed to Tony, “does not.
“You two men know that I want trouble with no one, but you know also
that I don’t mean to be imposed on by anyone. If I find any of you men
lurking around my camp, I shall probably shoot you for horse thieves. As
for your property that I’ve taken, I’ll leave it at the trader’s store,
and you can get it when you come in. I suppose your whiskey is cached in
the brush somewhere here, but you can get along without it for a day or
two. We are going into the Agency pretty soon, and after we have gone
you can come and get it, if you want to. Go now, and don’t let me see
you again on this trip.”
Hugh loosened the painter from the old log to which it was tied, tossed
it into the boat, and when Louis and Williamson had gotten out their
oars, he put his foot against the bow and pushed the boat off into the
swiftly running water.
For fifty or sixty yards it went down stream stern foremost, and then
the two men by clumsy strokes turned it round, and in a few minutes it
vanished around a bend, and the last thing the boys saw was the bowed
form of the burly man sitting in the stern, still nursing his crushed
ribs.
Hugh walked slowly back toward their camp, the two boys following him,
half awed and whispering to each other; for both were astonished at what
seemed to be a new phase of Hugh’s character.
Hugh did not stop at the tent, but remarked that he was going out to
look at the horses, and the two boys sat down by the fire.
“I tell you, Joe,” said Jack, “wasn’t it wonderful to see Hugh walk up
to that man with the pistol and take it from him?”
“Sure,” said Joe, “it was fine, but then White Bull is not afraid of
anything. That’s what people have said about him ever since I can
remember.”
“And wasn’t it fine to see him take that big man and squeeze him until
he yelled? I should have laughed myself to death if I hadn’t been so
scared,” said Jack.
“Yes,” said Joe, “he must be powerful strong. I should have thought that
that man could have eaten White Bull up in a minute. He must be powerful
strong; I should hate to have him get angry with me.”
“That’s the wonderful thing about Hugh,” Jack went on, “that he makes
people do whatever he wants ’em to. Of course, we do what he tells us
to, because we know that he knows what’s right, but he makes other
people do what he tells them. Of course, he doesn’t order them to do
things, but he’ll say it would be a good idea to do something, and then
he’ll talk for a few minutes and then presently the people will go off
and do just what he wants.”
“That’s so,” said Joe, “I’ve seen that, too. I’ve seen him talk
sometimes in a council of old men. Maybe they all think that something
was the best thing to do, and then White Bull would get up and say that
it seemed to him that something different ought to be done, and he’d
talk a little while and presently one after another would stand up and
say that he thought that White Bull was right; and then they’d all do
just what he said.”
“Yes,” said Jack, “he’s a great man, and I believe if he’d lived back
East, he would have been a mighty big man among the white people.”
“Well,” said Joe, “if he lived in an Indian camp, he could be the chief
any time he wanted to.”
A little while before dusk Hugh came back and said, “Well, boys, I’ve
tied up all the horses and I guess maybe to-morrow, if you like, we may
as well start for the Agency. The fact is we couldn’t stay out here much
longer anyhow, because if it came on to rain now, we’d all get wet, our
tent has so many holes in it.”
Joe said nothing, but Jack shouted with laughter at Hugh’s mild jest,
and said, “Tell me, Hugh, were you at all scared when you walked up to
that man with his pistol in his hand?”
“Well, really son, I don’t know. I don’t think I thought much whether I
was scared or not. I was a little bit cross with him for acting like a
fool, and I made up my mind we couldn’t have them around here any
longer, and that I would send them off.”
“But, good Lord, Hugh,” replied Jack, “he might have killed you.”
“Yes,” said Hugh, “perhaps he might if he had been sober and could have
hit me, but I didn’t think that he’d try to shoot, and if he had I don’t
believe he would have hit me.”
“Hugh,” said Jack, “do you know what I thought of when you were holding
that man in your arms and he was yelling like a stuck pig?”
“No,” said Hugh, “I don’t.”
“I couldn’t help thinking about a story that Mr. Fannin told us when we
were out in British Columbia, about how the bears used to come in and
take a pig out of the pen and hold it in their arms and walk off on
their hind legs, the pig squealing all the time.”
Hugh’s eye twinkled as he said, “I believe I do remember that story. So
when you saw me holding Tony that way you took me for a bear and him for
a pig, did you?”
“Well,” said Jack, “not that exactly, but it made me think of that. It
seemed awfully funny for a minute, but I was too scared and too excited
to laugh, although I wanted to.”
“Do you suppose those men will come back, White Bull?” asked Joe.
“No,” said Hugh, “I don’t reckon they will. They’ll go down to the head
of the lower lake and then they’ll go ashore there somewhere, and build
a fire and lie down and sleep their liquor off. If we start in
to-morrow, we’ll likely see them across the lake when we stop to get the
wagon. I think they’ll camp on this side, and to-morrow morning they’ll
be feeling mighty mean and mighty cross with each other, and about the
time we get down to the wagon and hitch up, they’ll be waking up and
quarreling with each other about whose fault it was that they got sent
away from camp the night before.”
“You think there’s no danger, then?” said Jack, “that we’ll have trouble
with them?”
“Not a particle,” said Hugh. “In the first place John Williamson hasn’t
got the sand of a cotton-tail rabbit, Louis Legros is a good fellow, but
foolish. Who that big man Tony is, I don’t know, but I reckon he may be
Tony Beaulieu. He has a kind of a look of that Beaulieu gang. They’re
good enough fellows when they’re sober, but mighty troublesome when
they’re drunk.
“We’ll never have any further trouble with them; in fact, I wouldn’t be
a bit surprised if they were to come up to us, the next time we see any
of them, and say that they were sorry for what happened.”
It was early next morning when Hugh had the boys up and the start was
made. The sun was little more than an hour high when they stopped at the
wagon, gathered their property together and loaded it, and set out for
the lower end of the lower lake, intending to follow the wagon road up
to the Duck Lake Hill, for this would be easier on the horses than the
steep pull up the hill they had come down in approaching the lake.
As they started down the lake, Joe pointed across to the other side,
where a spot of white was seen, with two or three small moving objects
about it, and looking with the glasses, Jack saw three men engaged in
the work of putting up a tent. Before they passed over a low hill which
cut off the view across the lake the boys saw several horsemen ride up
to the distant tent. The glasses showed that these horsemen were
Indians.
The drive down the lake was slow, for they crossed many ravines and
little streams, and in some places the road was very muddy. At length,
however, they came out on the flat near where the river leaves the lake,
and looking across the stream saw a camp of thirty or forty lodges.
“Do you know who these people are, Joe?” inquired Hugh.
“No,” replied Joe, “I don’t; I don’t think they are our people. Maybe
they’re Bloods; often they come down to this side after they’ve got
their payment from the Government up North. They like to buy things on
this side of the line.”
“Well,” said Hugh, “we’ll know pretty quick, for there’s a lot of them
starting across the river, or I miss my guess.”
Sure enough, twenty-five or thirty men came out of the lodges and,
jumping on their horses, galloped down to the fording place.
The road up the Duck Lake Hill starts not far above where the ford comes
out of the river, so that Hugh and his party had to keep on down the
stream until they had almost reached the ford, and by that time the
hurrying crowd of Indians had ridden up on the bank and presently
surrounded them and stopped the team.
Most of the men were young, but among them were a few of middle age, and
none were old men or very young boys.
They were quite noisy, some of them yelping in pure fun and high
spirits, others shouting aloud in tones that seemed to show anger.
When they got about the wagon, Hugh pulled up his team and sat there
looking and listening, trying to make out what they wanted.
Jack could understand a few words of what was being said, but in the
confusion could not catch its drift, and looked inquiringly at Joe, who
he thought wore a very solemn face.
During the colloquy that followed, he was in the dark as to what the
trouble was, but it was afterwards explained to him.
After the noise made by the Indians had somewhat subsided, one of the
men pushed his horse to the front, and coming close to Hugh, said to
him, “Where is the whiskey?”
Hugh replied, “What whiskey?”
“You know,” said the Indian; “the whiskey you took from those men up the
lake. We know all about it; that you drove them from their camp and kept
the whiskey, and now you are taking it away with you, but you shall not
do that. That whiskey was brought here for us and we are going to have
it; so give it to us now, or we will take it from you.”
“Look here, my friend,” said Hugh, “you talk like a child. I took no
whiskey from those men and I have none with me, and I shall give you
none. It is true that we had trouble with these men yesterday and that I
sent them away from our camp, but I took no whiskey from them, and if I
had done so, I should not give it to you.
“You know me, for you have often seen me in the Piegan camp, and I know
you, Wolf Collar, for more than once I have seen you in the Blood camp.
“Why do you come over here to make trouble with people on this side of
the line? Do you think that you can do over here what you dare not do
over there? You know very well that if you were to act like this to any
white man on your side of the line, the Red Coats would soon take you
and put you in the jail, perhaps with irons on your feet. You have lived
years enough to know better than to act so as to get your young men into
trouble.
“Listen to me, my friends,” he said in a louder voice, addressing all
the Indians, although most of them were near enough to have heard his
conversation with Wolf Collar, “I have just told your leader that I have
no liquor with me, and that if I had I should not give it to you; but I
have with me here a boy of your own race, a Piegan, who knows what took
place last night, and he can tell you, if you do not believe me. Speak
to them, Joe,” he said, “and tell them what happened last night.”
Joe began to tell the story of the trouble of the evening before, but
before he had said many words, the party was joined by a late comer, who
rode up from the river and close to the wagon, crowding his horse
through those of the young men, and occasionally, if a horse did not
make way for him, striking it fiercely with the quirt, but all the
Indians who saw him got out of his way at once.
He was a giant in stature, with a heavy and particularly ferocious face,
and rode a beautiful black horse, which seemed too small to bear his
immense frame. He rode up to the wagon, roughly pushing Wolf Collar out
of the way, and then stretching out his hand to Hugh shook hands with
him and said, “My friend, you seem to be traveling. Why do you stop
here?”
“Why, hello, Calf Robe,” said Hugh. “I didn’t stop here willingly, but
your young men got in my way, and crowded about me, and asked me for
whiskey, which I have not got, and which, if I had, I would not give to
them. They get too much whiskey now.”
“Why do they ask you for whiskey since all who know you know that you do
not drink whiskey, any more than you try to make others drink it?”
“I don’t know,” said Hugh, “but I reckon some of them have seen this
morning some whiskey traders up the lake, and they have told the Indians
that I took their whiskey.”
“Truly,” said Calf Robe, “these Indians are fools, and will believe any
lies that the white men choose to tell them.”
His evil face worked a little, and then, turning an angry glance on Wolf
Collar, he said to him, “Go now, go all of you to the camp quickly.
After this know better than to trouble this man with your crazy talk.
Go, I say,” he repeated fiercely, and striking his horse with his quirt
it carried him with a bound close to Wolf Collar, whom he lashed
savagely over the head and shoulders.
Wolf Collar darted away and Calf Robe turned toward another man, but in
a moment the whole body of Indians were galloping down into the ford,
many of them whooping, yelling and laughing; while others, humiliated by
the way in which they had been driven off, followed silently.
“Now, my friend, go your way,” said Calf Robe. “No one will trouble
you.”
“No,” said Hugh, “I think not--when Calf Robe is about,” and chirping to
his horses, they began to climb the hill.
During the whole ascent Jack was eagerly cross-questioning Joe as to
what the matter had been, what had happened and what had been said. Joe
explained everything at great length and wound up his talk by saying,
“Calf Robe is a great man. All his people fear him.”
“Well,” said Jack, “from the way he rode at them and lashed them, he was
not afraid of any of them. How he quirted Wolf Collar!”
“He does not know fear. He had a father and a grandfather who were like
him; I don’t mean to say that they looked like him, but they were big
men, and when they told people to do anything, they did it quick,”
replied Joe.
“I have heard lots about Calf Shirt and about Bull Back Fat. They were
great men. Running Rabbit, who lives in our camp, is also one of his
relations, and he, too, is a great man. You know he used to be head war
chief of the Bloods.”
“No, I didn’t know that,” said Jack. “That little kind man used to be
head war chief of the Bloods? I never supposed that he did anything
except sit around and tell funny stories and make jokes. It’s hard to
believe that he was a great warrior.”
“Oh, yes,” answered Joe, “one of the greatest of warriors.”
They camped that night by Duck Lake, and there Hugh told Jack something
about the fierce wild life of Calf Shirt and of the way in which he was
finally killed by the white men.
From Duck Lake they kept on to the Agency, which was reached without
incident four days later.
The morning after their arrival while Jack was dressing preparatory to
starting off to the railroad, Joe burst into the room, calling to him to
hurry up and get out, for many horses had been stolen during the night.
The flat in front of the Agency was the scene of great excitement and
confusion. Old men were haranguing in loud tones and women were singing
strong-heart songs to encourage their relatives about to start off in
pursuit of the enemy. Men were galloping to and fro, trying to borrow
swift horses or arms, with which to make the chase. Every now and then a
man would come in from the east, reporting success or failure in the
search for the trail of the robbers.
At last one man came who had followed the trail so far that the
direction which the thieves would take was pretty well known, and
presently a large body of horsemen, armed with rifles, bows and arrows,
and lances, started off down the creek, riding with a certain air of
dignity until they had gone some distance from the stockade, and then
breaking into a faster run.
“Well, Joe,” asked Hugh, “are our horses all right?”
“Yes,” replied the Indian boy, “they’re all right, and it’s mighty
lucky, too. I would have turned them out last night if there had been
any feed close by, but as there wasn’t any, I got Joe Bruce to give me
some hay and locked them up in his stable. Last night somebody tried to
pry off the chain, but the staples are clinched and they couldn’t move
them.”
“Well,” said Hugh, “that’s mighty good. Now you go and hitch up, and
we’ll say good-by to the Major and Bruce here, and then we’ll roll.”
A few days later Jack and Hugh shook hands in the railroad station at
Helena and parted, the one going west to reach the ranch, while the
other started for his far-away home in New York.
TO-DAY
Up to the time when Jack Danvers, with his two friends, penetrated to
the head of the St. Mary’s River and Swift Current, nothing was known of
the upper courses of either stream. Men who had been longest in the
country had never ascended beyond the Upper St. Mary’s Lake--from its
shape called Bow Lake in early times--nor beyond the large lake on Swift
Current, which receives the water from the river’s three forks.
What lay beyond these lakes was still unknown. Ancient but long-disused
trails ran up the rivers; sometimes so dim, so overgrown with grass and
weeds, and so blocked by fallen timber, that it was hard to say whether
they were Indian hunting trails, or merely paths worn by the buffalo and
the elk, which in bygone days had made their homes among the rocky
fastnesses at the heads of these streams. What had made these trails,
who had traveled them, was unknown.
There is a wonderful fascination in penetrating a new country, in
placing one’s foot where perhaps the foot of civilized man never trod
before.
A century ago there were many such places in the United States, fifty
years ago there were still not a few, twenty-five years ago there were
hardly any, and it is no wonder that Hugh and Jack wished to explore
these valleys and the mountains that walled them in.
Within a few years after the discoveries made by Hugh and Jack at the
heads of these rivers, other parties, hearing of what they had found,
followed the same trails. Soon it became not unusual for one or two
hunting parties to camp each year among these mountains. The fame of
their beauty and grandeur spread from one person to another and many
people visited them.
Among these at length came a party of engineers sent out by the
Government to consider the question of diverting the waters of the St.
Mary’s River from their natural course to join the Saskatchewan, into a
new channel southward across Milk River Ridge, and by a great irrigation
project thus to make fertile a vast area of arid country in Northern
Montana.
Meanwhile, the Government had purchased from the Blackfoot Indians these
rough mountains in which many miners professed to believe great mineral
wealth was hidden. The country was thoroughly prospected for precious
metals, for copper, and finally, for oil, but nothing was discovered
that promised to pay for the working, and the mines and claims were
abandoned.
Finally, in the month of February, 1908, Senator Thomas H. Carter, of
Montana, introduced in the United States Senate a bill establishing the
Glacier National Park, to include territory visited and seen by Hugh and
Jack on both slopes of the Rocky Mountains and to-day lying between the
International boundary and the Great Northern Railroad on the north and
south, and the Blackfoot reservation and one of the forks of the Flat
Head River on the east and west.
If the measure shall become law, this most beautiful country, with its
wonderful glaciers, its rushing rivers, its broad forests and its
abundant game supply, may remain forever as a pleasure resort and
playground for the benefit of the whole people of the United States.
Valuable as it will be in this respect, its economic worth to the United
States will be not less great. It will be a mighty reservoir, from which
for ages an unfailing supply of water may be drawn to give drink to
those thirsty plains, which need only moisture to yield a generous
return to the farmer.
* * * * *
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
oldest man=> oldest men {pg 48}
Read Eagle=> Red Eagle {pg 48}
fire another shot=> fired another shot {pg 190}
supiciously=> suspiciously {pg 214}
beautful=> beautiful {pg 239}
adressing=> addressing {pg 293}
End of Project Gutenberg's Jack the Young Explorer, by George Bird Grinnell