In the beginning of the trade with New Mexico, the route across the
great plains was directly west from the Missouri River to the mountains,
thence south to Santa Fe by the circuitous trail from Taos. When the
traffic assumed an importance demanding a more easy line of way, the
road was changed, running along the left bank of the Arkansas until
that stream turned northwest, at which point it crossed the river, and
continued southwest to the Raton Pass.
The Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad track substantially follows
the Trail through the mountains, which here afford the wildest and most
picturesquely beautiful scenery on the continent.
The Arkansas River at the fording of the Old Trail is not more than
knee-deep at an ordinary stage of water, and its bottom is well paved
with rounded pebbles of the primitive rock.
The overland trade between the United States and the northern provinces
of Mexico seems to have had no very definite origin; having been rather
the result of an accident than of any organized plan of commercial
establishment.
According to the best authorities, a French creole, named La Lande,
an agent of a merchant of Kaskaskia, Illinois, was the first American
adventurer to enter into the uncertain channels of trade with the people
of the ultramontane region of the centre of the continent. He began his
adventurous journey across the vast wilderness, with no companions but
the savages of the debatable land, in 1804; and following him the next
year, James Pursley undertook the same pilgrimage. Neither of these
pioneers in the "commerce of the prairies" returned to relate what
incidents marked the passage of their marvellous expeditions. Pursley
was so infatuated with the strange country he had travelled so far to
reach, that he took up his abode in the quaint old town of Santa Fe
where his subsequent life is lost sight of. La Lande, of a different
mould, forgot to render an account of his mission to the merchant who
had sent him there, and became a prosperous and wealthy man by means of
money to which he had no right.
To Captain Zebulon Pike, who afterwards was made a general, is due the
impetus which the trade with Santa Fe received shortly after his return
to the United States. The student of American history will remember that
the expedition commanded by this soldier was inaugurated in 1806;
his report of the route he had taken was the incentive for commercial
speculation in the direction of trade with New Mexico, but it was so
handicapped by restrictions imposed by the Mexican government, that
the adventurers into the precarious traffic were not only subject to
a complete confiscation of their wares, but frequently imprisoned for
months as spies. Under such a condition of affairs, many of the earlier
expeditions, prior to 1822, resulted in disaster, and only a limited
number met with an indifferent success.
It will not be inconsistent with my text if I herewith interpolate
an incident connected with Pursley, the second American to cross the
desert, for the purpose of trade with New Mexico, which I find in the
_Magazine of American History_:
When Zebulon M. Pike was in Mexico, in 1807, he met,
at Santa Fe, a carpenter, Pursley by name, from Bardstown,
Kentucky, who was working at his trade. He had in a
previous year, while out hunting on the Plains, met with
a series of misfortunes, and found himself near the
mountains. The hostile Sioux drove the party into the
high ground in the rear of Pike's Peak. Near the headwaters
of the Platte River, Pursley found some gold, which he
carried in his shot-pouch for months. He was finally sent
by his companions to Santa Fe, to see if they could trade
with the Mexicans, but he chose to remain in Santa Fe
in preference to returning to his comrades. He told the
Mexicans about the gold he had found, and they tried hard
to persuade him to show them the place. They even offered
to take along a strong force of cavalry. But Pursley
refused, and his patriotic reason was that he thought the
land belonged to the United States. He told Captain Pike
that he feared they would not allow him to leave Santa Fe,
as they still hoped to learn from him where the gold was
to be found. These facts were published by Captain Pike
soon after his return east; but no one took the hint,
or the risk was too great, and thus more than a half
a century passed before those same rich fields of gold
were found and opened to the world. If Pursley had been
somewhat less patriotic, and had guided the Mexicans to
the treasures, the whole history and condition of the
western part of our continent might have been entirely
different from what it now is. That region would still
have been a part of Mexico, or Spain might have been
in possession of it, owning California; and, with the gold
that would have been poured into her coffers, would have
been the leading nation of European affairs to-day.
We can easily see how American and European history in
the nineteenth century might have been changed, if that
adventurer from Kentucky had not been a true lover of his
native country.
The adventures of Captain Ezekiel Williams along the Old Trail, in the
early days of the century, tell a story of wonderful courage, endurance,
and persistency. Williams was a man of great perseverance, patience, and
determination of character. He set out from St. Louis in the late
spring of 1807, to trap on the Upper Missouri and the waters of the
Yellowstone, with a party of twenty men who had chosen him as their
leader. After various exciting incidents and thrilling adventures, all
of the original party, except Williams and two others, were killed by
the Indians somewhere in the vicinity of the Upper Arkansas. The three
survivors, not knowing where they were, separated, and Captain Williams
determined to take to the stream by canoe, and trap on his way toward
the settlements, while his last two companions started for the Spanish
country--that is, for the region of Santa Fe. The journal of Williams,
from which I shall quote freely, is to be found in _The Lost Trappers_,
a work long out of print.[11] As the country was an unexplored region,
he might be on a river that flowed into the Pacific, or he might be
drifting down a stream that was an affluent to the Gulf of Mexico. He
was inclined to believe that he was on the sources of the Red River. He
therefore resolved to launch his canoe, and go wherever the stream might
convey him, trapping on his descent, when beaver might be plenty.
The first canoe he used he made of buffalo-skins. As this kind of water
conveyance soon begins to leak and rot, he made another of cottonwood,
as soon as he came to timber sufficiently large, in which he embarked
for a port, he knew not where.
Most of his journeyings Captain Williams performed during the hours of
night, excepting when he felt it perfectly safe to travel in daylight.
His usual plan was to glide along down the stream, until he came to a
place where beaver signs were abundant. There he would push his little
bark among the willows, where he remained concealed, excepting when he
was setting his traps or visiting them in the morning. When he had
taken all the beaver in one neighbourhood, he would untie his little
conveyance, and glide onward and downward to try his luck in another
place.
Thus for hundreds of miles did this solitary trapper float down this
unknown river, through an unknown country, here and there lashing his
canoe to the willows and planting his traps in the little tributaries
around. The upper part of the Arkansas, for this proved to be the river
he was on,[12] is very destitute of timber, and the prairie frequently
begins at the bank of the river and expands on either side as far as the
eye can reach. He saw vast herds of buffalo, and as it was the rutting
season, the bulls were making a wonderful ado; the prairie resounded
with their low, deep grunting or bellowing, as they tore up the earth
with their feet and horns, whisking their tails, and defying their
rivals to battle. Large gangs of wild horses could be seen grazing on
the plains and hillsides, and the neighing and squealing of stallions
might be heard at all times of the night.
Captain Williams never used his rifle to procure meat, except when
it was absolutely necessary, or could be done with perfect safety. On
occasions when he had no beaver, upon which he generally subsisted, he
ventured to kill a deer, and after refreshing his empty stomach with a
portion of the flesh, he placed the carcass in one end of the canoe. It
was his invariable custom to sleep in his canoe at night, moored to the
shore, and once when he had laid in a supply of venison he was startled
in his sleep by the tramping of something in the bushes on the bank.
Tramp! tramp! tramp! went the footsteps, as they approached the canoe.
He thought at first it might be an Indian that had found out his
locality, but he knew that it could not be; a savage would not approach
him in that careless manner. Although there was beautiful starlight, yet
the trees and the dense undergrowth made it very dark on the bank of the
river, close to which he lay. He always adopted the precaution of tying
his canoe with a piece of rawhide about twenty feet long, which allowed
it to swing from the bank at that distance; he did this so that in case
of an emergency he might cut the string, and glide off without making
any noise. As the sound of the footsteps grew more distinct, he
presently observed a huge grizzly bear coming down to the water and
swimming for the canoe. The great animal held his head up as if scenting
the venison. The captain snatched his axe as the most available means
to defend himself in such a scrape, and stood with it uplifted, ready to
drive it into the brains of the monster. The bear reached the canoe, and
immediately put his fore paws upon the hind end of it, nearly turning
it over. The captain struck one of the brute's feet with the edge of
the axe, which made him let go with that foot, but he held on with
the other, and he received this time a terrific blow on the head, that
caused him to drop away from the canoe entirely. Nothing more was seen
of the bear, and the captain thought he must have sunk in the stream and
drowned. He was evidently after the fresh meat, which he scented from
a great distance. In the canoe the next morning there were two of the
bear's claws, which had been cut off by the well-directed blow of the
axe. These were carefully preserved by Williams for many years as a
trophy which he was fond of exhibiting, and the history of which he
always delighted to tell.
As he was descending the river with his peltries, which consisted of
one hundred and twenty-five beaver-skins, besides some of the otter and
other smaller animals, he overtook three Kansas Indians, who were also
in a canoe going down the river, as he learned from them, to some post
to trade with the whites. They manifested a very friendly disposition
towards the old trapper, and expressed a wish to accompany him. He
also learned from them, to his great delight, that he was on the
Big Arkansas, and not more than five hundred miles from the white
settlements. He was well enough versed in the treachery of the Indian
character to know just how much he could repose in their confidence. He
was aware that they would not allow a solitary trapper to pass through
their country with a valuable collection of furs, without, at least,
making an effort to rob him. He knew that their plan would be to get him
into a friendly intercourse, and then, at the first opportunity, strip
him of everything he possessed; consequently he was determined to get
rid of them as soon as possible, and to effect this, he plied his oars
with all diligence. The Indians, like most North American savages, were
lazy, and had no disposition to labour in that way, but took it quite
leisurely, satisfied with being carried down by the current. Williams
soon left them in the rear, and, as he supposed, far behind him. When
night came on, however, as he had worked all day, and slept none the
night before, he resolved to turn aside into a bunch of willows to take
a few hours' rest. But he had not stopped more than forty minutes when
he heard some Indians pull to the shore just above him on the same side
of the river. He immediately loosened his canoe from its moorings, and
glided silently away. He rowed hard for two or three hours, when he
again pulled to the bank and tied up.
Only a short time after he had landed, he heard Indians again going
on shore on the same side of the stream as himself. A second time he
repeated his tactics, slipped out of his place of concealment, and stole
softly away. He pulled on vigorously until some time after midnight,
when he supposed he could with safety stop and snatch a little sleep.
He felt apprehensive that he was in a dangerous region, and his anxiety
kept him wide awake. It was very lucky that he did not close his eyes;
for as he was lying in the bottom of his canoe he heard for the third
time a canoe land as before. He was now perfectly satisfied that he was
dogged by the Kansans whom he had passed the preceding day, and in no
very good humour, therefore, he picked up his rifle, and walked up to
the bank where he had heard the Indians land. As he suspected, there
were the three savages. When they saw the captain, they immediately
renewed their expressions of friendship, and invited him to partake of
their hospitality. He stood aloof from them, and shook his head in
a rage, charging them with their villanous purposes. In the short,
sententious manner of the Indians, he said to them: "You now follow me
three times; if you follow me again, I kill you!" and wheeling around
abruptly, returned to his canoe. A third time the solitary trapper
pushed his little craft from the shore and set off down stream, to get
away from a region where to sleep would be hazardous. He plied his oars
the remainder of the night, and solaced himself with the thought that no
evil had befallen him, except the loss of a few hours' sleep.
While he was escaping from his villanous pursuers, he was running into
new dangers and difficulties. The following day he overtook a large
band of the same tribe, under the leadership of a chief, who were
also descending the river. Into the hands of these savages he fell a
prisoner, and was conducted to one of their villages. The principal
chief there took all of his furs, traps, and other belongings. A very
short time after his capture, the Kansans went to war with the Pawnees,
and carried Captain Williams with them. In a terrible battle in which
the Kansans gained a most decided victory, the old trapper bore a
conspicuous part, killing a great number of the enemy, and by his
excellent strategy brought about the success of his captors. When
they returned to the village, Williams, who had ever been treated with
kindness by the inhabitants, was now thought to be a wonderful warrior,
and could have been advanced to all the savage honours; he might even
have been made one of their principal chiefs. The tribe gave him his
liberty for the great service he had rendered it in its difficulty with
an inveterate foe, but declining all proffered promotions, he decided
to return to the white settlements on the Missouri, at the mouth of
the Kaw, the covetous old chief retaining all his furs, and indeed
everything he possessed excepting his rifle, with as many rounds of
ammunition as would be necessary to secure him provisions in the shape
of game on his route. The veteran trapper had learned from the Indians
while with them that they expected to go to Fort Osage on the Missouri
River to receive some annuities from the government, and he felt certain
that his furs would be there at the same time.
After leaving the Kansans he travelled on toward the Missouri, and soon
struck the beginning of the sparse settlements. Just as evening was
coming on, he arrived at a cluster of three little log-cabins, and was
received with genuine backwoods hospitality by the proprietor, who had
married an Osage squaw. Williams was not only very hungry, but very
tired; and, after enjoying an abundant supper, he became stupid
and sleepy, and expressed a wish to lie down. The generous trapper
accordingly conducted him to one of the cabins, in which there were two
beds, standing in opposite corners of the room. He immediately threw
himself upon one, and was soon in a very deep sleep. About midnight his
slumbers were disturbed by a singular and very frightful kind of noise,
accompanied by struggling on the other bed. What it was, Williams was
entirely at a loss to understand. There were no windows in the cabin,
the door was shut, and it was as dark as Egypt. A fierce contest seemed
to be going on. There were deep groanings and hard breathings; and the
snapping of teeth appeared almost constant. For a moment the noise would
subside, then again the struggles would be renewed accompanied as before
with groaning, deep sighing, and grinding of teeth.
The captain's bed-clothes consisted of a couple of blankets and a
buffalo-robe, and as the terrible struggles continued he raised himself
up in the bed, and threw the robe around him for protection, his rifle
having been left in the cabin where his host slept, while his knife was
attached to his coat, which he had hung on the corner post of the other
bedstead from which the horrid struggles emanated. In an instant the
robe was pulled off, and he was left uncovered and unprotected; in
another moment a violent snatch carried away the blanket upon which he
was sitting, and he was nearly tumbled off the bed with it. As the next
thing might be a blow in the dark, he felt that it was high time to
shift his quarters; so he made a desperate leap from the bed, and
alighted on the opposite side of the room, calling for his host, who
immediately came to his relief by opening the door. Williams then told
him that the devil--or something as bad, he believed--was in the room,
and he wanted a light. The accommodating trapper hurried away, and in
a moment was back with a candle, the light of which soon revealed the
awful mystery. It was an Indian, who at the time was struggling in
convulsions, which he was subject to. He was a superannuated chief, a
relative of the wife of the hospitable trapper, and generally made his
home there. Absent when Captain Williams arrived, he came into the room
at a very late hour, and went to the bed he usually occupied. No one
on the claim knew of his being there until he was discovered, in a
dreadfully mangled condition. He was removed to other quarters, and
Williams, who was not to be frightened out of a night's rest, soon sunk
into sound repose.
Williams reached the agency by the time the Kansas Indians arrived
there, and, as he suspected, found that the wily old chief had brought
all his belongings, which he claimed, and the agent made the savages
give up the stolen property before he would pay them a cent of their
annuities. He took his furs down to St. Louis, sold them there at a good
price, and then started back to the Rocky Mountains on another trapping
tour.