TRAPPING AMONG THE INDIANS.
One of the savages cast some wood upon the fire, and as it blazed up,
I saw that five of them stood around me. Resistance would be useless,
as my rifle, knife, and revolver were in their hands. Their faces were
devoid of paint, and they were probably a party of hunters who had
fallen upon my trail. I remembered my spectral visitant a few hours
before, and doubted not that he was the means of the tedious captivity
which had now only commenced.
After I had arisen to my feet, the captors continued conversing in an
unknown tongue. It perplexed me to understand how one of them was able
to address me in tolerably good English; but I supposed he must have
had intercourse with the fur traders and hunters and the forts and
stations of the northwest.
The debate of the Indians I judged to be a decision upon the course
they were to follow. Singularly enough, I had hardly any fears at all
in regard to my life, feeling pretty well convinced that they intended
an endless captivity for me. I doubted not I should be adopted into
their tribe, and doomed to the office of the meanest slave. This was
not a very encouraging prospect it is true, but it was infinitely
superior to that of death.
After a few minutes’ conversation, the Indians apparently came to a
satisfactory conclusion; for they seated themselves around the fire,
ordering me to do the same, and here they sat as grim and silent as
statues, not a muscle moving, excepting an occasional wink of the eyes
at long intervals. I watched them, it seemed for an hour, shivering
with cold all the time, although my captors had not deprived me of my
blanket.
At last, as I looked up, I saw that day was breaking. There was a
faint light in the east, heralding the approach of the sun. Shortly
after, it burst above the forest line, lighting up the interminable
prairie and wilderness with its golden glory. The savages sprang to
their feet, seized their weapons and started away.
“Keep close, and don’t run!” said the savage who had addressed me at
first.
“No danger of my attempting it,” I answered, following almost
cheerfully behind them.
And in truth it would have been the height of folly to make an attempt
to escape. Each of the savages was a fleet runner, each possessed a
loaded rifle (and one of them had another, together with my revolver,
which, by the way, was a source of great wonderment and perplexity to
him), and the utmost limit that I possibly could have gained, as will
be evident to the reader, was perhaps ten feet. So I meditated no
attempt, but followed close in the footsteps of my captors.
No halt was made for breakfast, and during the whole forenoon we
tramped through the wilderness in a northerly direction. As I knew I
was in the extreme upper part of the great Nebraska Territory when
taken captive, I felt pretty certain that I was now in the Hudson Bay
Territory, within the British line. But here my companions made a turn
to the eastward, and then, strangely enough, proceeded south again, so
that I was uncertain whether I was now in the United States or not.
The reason of this detour on the part of the savages I never knew and
could only conjecture. I afterward imagined it was for the purpose of
misleading and bewildering me in case I should ever attempt to leave
them.
When the sun was overhead, the Indians halted upon the bank of a small
flashing stream, and prepared their meal. A half-hour before halting,
one of the Indians had dodged off into the forest. Some time after I
heard the report of a rifle, and in a few minutes he returned with a
large ptarmigan in his hand. The feathers were plucked from this, and
the body dressed much after the fashion of civilized communities. It
was then partially cooked over the blaze, and despite the change of
circumstances, I made as good and substantial a meal upon it as did
any of my companions.
The meal finished, the savages squatted before the fire, drew forth
their pipes and commenced silently smoking, their eyes glittering
through the vapor with suppressed fierceness, as ever and anon a
sidelong glance was bestowed upon me. One of the Indians--he who spoke
English--was examining my revolver. He closed one eye and peered
wonderingly into the six little barrels; then he fingered about the
hammer, took off the cap, tasted it, and replaced it. (It may be
remarked here that at the time of my experience, percussion caps were
almost unknown in this region. As they were of comparatively recent
invention, few of the trappers consented to use them until a long time
after.) I was expecting each moment to see the weapon discharge
itself, as it was fully charged, and was handled awkwardly. The
Indian looked at it in every direction, at last gave it up. He took a
smell of it, and snuffing the gunpowder, handed it to me.
“What is he?”
“A young gun,” I answered with a smile.
As I took the weapon I looked about me. There were five unsuspicious
savages, and there were six messengers of death at my command. For an
instant a wild resolve thrilled me; but it was for an instant only. My
soul revolted at the wholesale slaughter I should be compelled to
inflict, and I looked at my interlocutor with a pleasant smile.
“Does he shoot?” he queried, his dark eyes lighting up with curiosity.
“Of course. Would you like to see me fire it?”
“Yaw! shoot at him,” he answered, pointing at the trunk of a large
tree.
“What part of it?”
“Hit him where you mind to.”
“Oh, let’s have a mark,” I laughed, stepping forward and tearing off a
small piece of the bark, so as to offer a red spot several inches in
diameter. The other savages were now surveying my motions with
interest, and with some degree of suspicion the formidable looking
little weapon in my hand. I saw there was an opportunity for making a
good impression and I resolved to do it. I stepped back a few paces,
took a careful, though apparently a careless aim, and fired the six
barrels in succession with tolerable good effect.
“Just look at the mark,” I remarked, rather stiffly.
The Indian stepped forward and examined the holes, all within an inch
or two of the center. Then with his knife he pried out each bullet,
and showed them to his companions. They grunted their satisfaction, or
rather wonder, and turned the diminutive six-shooter over and over in
their hands, totally unable to comprehend how such a number of fatal
shots could come almost simultaneously from it. I loaded and fired it
a number of times, and my friend--he who spoke English--asked me to
make him a present of it. I assented with the greatest pleasure, as I
had no power to refuse, and volunteered to instruct him in its use,
and all things considered we were getting on quite intimate terms.
This proceeding of mine was a stroke of policy, to which I believe I
owe my life. My apparent cheerfulness, my readiness to acquiesce in
all their wishes, convinced them that I cherished no sullen
vindictiveness toward them, and I am well satisfied that had I asked
my captors at this time to allow me to proceed unmolested upon my way,
they would have done so. Yet I was perfectly willing to tarry with
them a while, for reasons which, I trust, are obvious to the reader,
and I made no request of them.
We remained in this spot for over an hour practicing with the
revolver. At the end of that time its new owner had made such progress
as to be able to strike a good-sized tree a yard distant, at nearly
every shot.
“Him nice thing!” he remarked, shoving it carefully down in his belt.
“Very good in a close hug with a bear or foe,” I replied.
“He is, by dam,” he added, pulling it forth and again examining each
part.
There was but one drawback to the savage’s prospect of pleasure. I had
but a small quantity of caps, and of course there was no means of
obtaining any among his own kindred. He however satisfied himself with
the thought that he could obtain more at some of the trading posts in
that section.
The line of march was again taken up, and continued until nightfall.
They traveled in Indian file, my dusky friend bringing up the rear,
and myself directly in front of him. This plan was adopted, not
through any fear of pursuit, as they were in their own country, but
because caution and watchfulness are habitual to the North American
Indian. Every now and then the click of the revolver was audible
behind, but I felt no apprehension as I knew the savage was only
examining it for his own pleasure.
Just before dusk we reached a large and rapidly flowing stream. Here
the rifles were slung about their persons, and we grasped hands and
plunged unhesitatingly in. Had not this expedient been adopted, I
should never have reached the opposite side. We sank to our shoulders
several times, and the boisterous current lifted me clean from the
bottom, but the strong arms of my captors were all-efficient, and held
me firmly in my place until the opposite shore was reached, with no
greater misfortune than the uncomfortableness of our soaked and
clinging garments.
The sun had sunk behind the western mountains, and the deep gloom of
night was settling over the wilderness, when as we reached the top of
a swell, I saw for the first time the Indian village. It lay in a sort
of valley, and numbered sixty or seventy lodges. As seen in the dim
twilight these looked singularly picturesque and fanciful. I could see
dark forms flitting like shadows about the lodges, and the low hum of
their conversation was audible. We were descried, as our forms stood
out in relief against the sky, but no signals were given by either
party.
As we descended into the valley my heart began to fail me, at what I
feared my reception would be. Stories of the tortures undergone by
captives came over me, and I ventured my fears to my friend.
“What your name?” he asked, halting and turning toward me.
“Will,” I replied.
“Will stay here, and me come and fix things. My name Jim,” said he,
taking the name probably given him by the whites with whom he was
acquainted.
The other savages seeing us halting stopped also, and looked
suspiciously. Jim (as I shall hereafter name him) said something in an
unintelligible tongue and they passed on.
“Stay here, Will, and me fix things.”
With this he disappeared, and I seated myself upon the ground to await
his return. It struck me as rather curious for him to give a captive
such a good opportunity to escape, but it pleased me withal, and it
need not be told I made no attempt to make off.
In a few moments he returned, bearing in his arms several Indian
garments.
“Will put him on, and me fix things,” said he, throwing them down
beside me. I hastily donned them, understanding fully their use and
intentions.
“Keep close, and don’t say nothing to nobody,” he added, as they
enveloped my person.
He now turned his face towards the village, and we were soon wending
our way through it. We passed several savages who spoke to me, Jim
however taking the responsibility of replying. At last we reached his
lodge without my identity being discovered. This was at the extreme
eastern end of the village, and as we entered I saw it was devoid of
any persons except ourselves.
“You sleep there, Will,” said he, pointing to one corner, where a
buffalo robe was visible by the dim light of a few smoldering embers.
I repaired to the spot, thanking him for his kindly offer, and lay
down, while he replenished the fire, seating himself by it, and
commenced the never-ceasing pleasure of examining his revolver.
Lying half asleep on the buffalo robe, listlessly gazing at the
savage, his features all at once struck me. I had seen them before,
but where I could not recollect. Let me see--ah! it was plain now. He
was one of the occupants of the mysterious canoe!
It soon became known throughout the Indian village that a white man
was a captive among them, and the next morning the entrance to Jim’s
lodge was thronged with hundreds anxious to get a peep at me. Knowing
that this curiosity must be gratified sooner or later, I stepped
boldly forth, and mingled among them, in order to have the matter
finished at once. No violence was offered me, although several pinched
my arms rather severely, seemingly determined to be satisfied upon all
my points.
My Indian friend Jim was married, and, in the course of the day, his
squaw made her appearance. She was a middle-aged woman, and tolerably
good-looking for a savage. Jim informed her that I was to be her
slave, and thus it may be said I was established in winter-quarters.
The heavy storm referred to in the previous chapter, was the close of
the warm season, and the fierce northern winter commenced setting in.
Winter in the northwest is far different from that season in the
Middle States. It is full six months in continuance, and such is the
intense coldness for the greater part of the season, that the
thermometer sinks to thirty and often forty degrees below zero. Two
weeks after my capture, it seemed impossible to prevent freezing to
death in the lodge with a roaring fire a few feet off. Yet the savages
minded it hardly at all. A few extra garments were added to their
costume, and they flitted as incessantly through the village as ever.
In the tribe it was acknowledged that I was the property of Jim, and
thus my lot was much more endurable than otherwise. He was really a
good-hearted Indian, I believe; and the course that I ever maintained
toward him won some of his regard. However, he was a lazy dog, like
all of his male kindred, and, although I had an exalted opinion of
him, it was impossible to discover in him any of those poetical
attributes which are so generally conceded to the North American
Indian. In conversation with me, he discarded entirely those
extravagant, highly-wrought figures of speech common to his kindred,
and added in their place an awkward oath or two, and a phrase learned
from the Hudson-Bay traders. The greater part of the day he sat before
his fire, smoking and gazing moodily into it, while his better-half
busied herself about the apartment as willingly and contentedly as
though she never dreamed of a different lot. Of course, I assisted her
as much as lay within my power, and came at last to do all of the
out-door work.
I have always regarded my capture by this tribe of Indians as a
fortunate circumstance. I cannot imagine how else I could have
maintained life through the unusually severe winter which followed. No
mortal hand could have saved me from perishing from cold, while it
would have been utterly impossible to have procured food, when the
snow lay six feet upon the ground, and the rivers were sealed by great
depths of ice. Although frequent occasions presented themselves, I
determined to make no effort to leave my captors until the spring had
arrived.
As mentioned, I had pretty well-defined suspicions that Jim was one of
the savages who occupied the mysterious canoe, referred to in the
preceding chapters. I was not positive of this, although, when I
stood by his side and viewed his profile, the resemblance seemed
perfect.
One great disappointment had already come. I was sure that I should
learn something either of Nat, or of the fair, mysterious captive.
When I questioned Jim, he answered with such apparent sincerity and
truth, that I was pretty well convinced he knew nothing of either. In
regard to the latter he laughed; the former he merely shook his head;
he knew nothing of either. Sometimes when I fell into a deep reverie,
and suddenly awoke, I could see Jim lift his eyes quickly from me, as
though he had been endeavoring to satisfy himself of my identity. He
questioned me artfully, and I told him all. At last, I resolved to put
the question direct.
“Jim, didn’t you and another warrior, some weeks ago, pass down the
river, some distance south, with a white woman?”
There was a perceptible start at this question, but he answered
promptly:
“Don’t know nothing ’bout ’em.”
“Why, I was pretty sure that I saw you.”
He shook his head.
There was nothing to be gained by further questioning, and I gave it
up. But I was satisfied he knew more of Nat and the sweet captive
than he was willing to tell--and I was not mistaken.
Shortly after this conversation, Jim told me that he and several of
his tribe were in the employ of the Hudson Bay Fur Company, and traded
numerous furs with them every spring. I asked him whether he was not
in the territory of the Northwest Fur Company. He replied that that
made no difference; each trespassed upon the other’s grounds, and he
had been engaged for both.[2]
[2] The Hudson Bay Company, established two hundred years ago,
by Prince Rupert, divided its territory into four
compartments--the Northern, including all the country of the Far
North; the Southern, extending south to Lake Superior; the
Montreal, including the country along the northern shore of the
Gulf of St. Lawrence; and the Columbia Department, comprehending
all the country west of the Rocky Mountains, including Oregon,
in which, I believe, they still trade.
A few weeks subsequent to this, there came a storm which laid the snow
six feet deep, and Jim informed me that, in company with several
others, he should proceed to set his traps for the winter’s work, and
he willingly consented that I should accompany him. Preparations were
accordingly made. Extra garments were donned, a couple of traps taken
by each, and, placing our snow-shoes upon our feet, we sallied forth.
This was the first time I ever attempted to travel with snow-shoes,
and, as may be supposed, I made awkward work of it. These were fully
six feet in length, resembling a canoe somewhat in shape, and of
extreme lightness. The interior is filled with a gauzy network, which
allows the light, sand-like snow to fall through without impeding
one’s progress. They are fastened loosely but securely to the feet,
and when the snow is not dampened by thaws, twenty miles can be easily
made in a day. Without these convenient things, it would be next to
impossible to travel during six months of the year in the fur-bearing
regions.
We proceeded westward some eight or ten miles before all of the traps
were set, when, turning, we retraced our steps, intending to visit
them the following night. The trap used by the Indians of this section
is much the same as the common steel-trap of the States, being,
however, much larger, and without the saw-like teeth of the latter. A
long chain, with a heavy stone attached, is fastened to the trap, and
concealed beneath the snow, to prevent the animal making off with the
whole concern. The trap is placed just beneath the surface of the
snow, and bits of frozen fish are scattered around, which attract the
half-starved foxes, lynx, beavers, and wolves in the region. Having
completed all arrangements, we retraced our steps, and reached the
village just as night was setting in.
Nothing of note took place the next day, and, as the night came on,
Jim informed me that they were going to visit their traps to ascertain
what luck they had. As he made no objection, I again donned my
snow-shoes and joined them. There was but one savage beside himself.
The snow was crisp and fine, and the traveling comparatively easy. Jim
dragged a small sled behind him for the purpose of bringing back
anything found in the traps.
It was a bright moonlight night, and as we journeyed through the
forest, there were patches of snow almost as light as day. We shunned
the trees, as the snow-crust was brittle around them, and once or
twice crossed broad belts of snow, devoid of timber, which Jim
informed me were the beds of rivers. As we traveled on, nothing broke
the silence, except the muffled sliding of our shoes over the icy
crust, or a single word from one of the savages; and it occurred to me
that if my friends at home could have seen me at this particular
moment, they would have imagined I was searching for gold in a strange
country.
The first trap we reached had the _fore-leg_ of a fox in it only. I
looked at Jim inquiringly, unable to understand what it meant.
“He gnawed him off, and run away; look out next time.”
The fox had been caught by his fore-leg, and, finding himself unable
to get loose, had eaten off the imprisoned limb and escaped on the
others. In a month’s time he would probably suffer no inconvenience
from it. In the next trap was found a red fox, whose fur bears but a
trifling value. He was killed, placed upon the sled, the trap reset,
and we proceeded to the rest. None of them had been visited, except
the last. In this was imprisoned a beautiful black fox, the capture of
which nearly set the two savages into ecstasies. The fur, of this
animal is more valuable than that of any other caught by the trappers,
one alone sometimes bringing as high as two hundred dollars. It is so
rarely captured, and such a prize, when taken, that a hunter would be
satisfied with one single animal during the whole season.
Our two animals being secured upon our sled, and the traps carefully
reset, we commenced our return journey. The night was far advanced
when we reached the Indian village. As we entered our lodge, Jim’s
squaw arose noiselessly and replenished the fire. While removing my
snow-shoes, I remarked to Jim that my feet had felt for the last hour
or two as though they were asleep.
“Let me see him,” he asked quickly, jerking off the thick moccasins
which I had donned a few weeks back. He looked at my feet a moment,
and then exclaimed, “By dam, him froze up!”
I was considerably startled at this, and anxiously asked him if they
were badly frozen.
“Yaw, but me fix em,” he answered, and commenced immediately rubbing
until I begged him to desist. He paid no heed to my entreaties, but
continued this treatment until he had restored completely the
congealed circulation, and saved the useful members.
The savages had but poor fortune in trapping this winter, and there
was considerable suffering. The Indians of the northwest rely solely
upon what they are able thus to take, for their food during the cold
season; and, as there is generally plenty of game, they fare well. But
now and then some unaccountable cause drives all the animals away, and
cases of actual starvation have occurred. Jim told me that three
winters before a case of cannibalism had occurred in their tribe, and
years before that, when a mere child, there came an appalling time.
Half the families were obliged to devour some of their members to
support life until spring, and, for over a week, an old, miserable
bison supported the whole tribe. Jim said he had more than once cooked
his moccasins and eaten them.
The tribe was driven to no such extremity as this while I was with
them, and I saw no want myself. Jim was one of their best hunters and
he supplied his own lodge before that of others. Yet, there were
others who were not so fortunate, and who were often compelled to
endure the pangs of hunger for days at a time. When food was secured,
they gorged themselves nearly to bursting, and were the happiest of
mortals, until the wants of nature again made themselves felt.
I could write far more of my experience with this tribe of Indians;
but I feel it would be hardly in place here, as there are other
characters in this narrative who must claim notice. My aim has been
only to dwell long enough upon particulars, for an understanding of
the events that follow. During my captivity, several things occurred
to make me suspect that the mysterious captive referred to was in this
village the whole time, and I was satisfied that the Indian Jim knew
more of Nat than he would impart to me. These imaginings filled me
with moody misgivings, and I made a resolve that as soon as spring
came I would make my escape; and if I could learn nothing of the two
beings whose fate was unknown to me, depart for the States. The life
I was leading was a wearisome, monotonous one, and in time would
become unbearable. Spring was but a month or two distant, and in its
approach I placed my fondest hopes; but it was doomed to open an
experience in my life of which I little dreamed.