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[Illustration:
Map to illustrate
the Story of
Antoine of Oregon]
ANTOINE OF OREGON
A STORY OF THE OREGON TRAIL
BY
JAMES OTIS
NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY
JAMES OTIS KALER.
COPYRIGHT, 1912, IN GREAT BRITAIN.
ANTOINE OF OREGON.
W. P. I
FOREWORD
The author of this series of stories for children has endeavored
simply to show why and how the descendants of the early colonists
fought their way through the wilderness in search of new homes. The
several narratives deal with the struggles of those adventurous people
who forced their way westward, ever westward, whether in hope of gain
or in answer to "the call of the wild," and who, in so doing, wrote
their names with their blood across this country of ours from the Ohio
to the Columbia.
To excite in the hearts of the young people of this land a desire to
know more regarding the building up of this great nation, and at the
same time to entertain in such a manner as may stimulate to noble
deeds, is the real aim of these stories. In them there is nothing of
romance, but only a careful, truthful record of the part played by
children in the great battles with those forces, human as well as
natural, which, for so long a time, held a vast portion of this broad
land against the advance of home seekers.
With the knowledge of what has been done by our own people in our own
land, surely there is no reason why one should resort to fiction in
order to depict scenes of heroism, daring, and sublime disregard of
suffering in nearly every form.
JAMES OTIS.
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE FUR TRADERS 9
WHY I AM NOT A FUR TRADER 11
STRIVING TO PLAN FOR THE FUTURE 13
AN INQUISITIVE STRANGER 15
AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSITION 16
I SET OUT AS A GUIDE 18
JOHN MITCHELL'S OUTFIT 20
MAKING THE BARGAIN 23
WE LEAVE ST. LOUIS 25
THE HARDSHIPS TO BE ENCOUNTERED 26
THE CAMP AT INDEPENDENCE 28
A FRONTIER TOWN 30
THE START FROM INDEPENDENCE 33
CARELESS TRAVELERS 35
OVERRUN BY WILD HORSES 38
SEARCHING FOR THE LIVE STOCK 40
ABANDONING THE MISSING ANIMALS 42
MEETING WITH OTHER EMIGRANTS 43
A TEMPEST 46
FACING THE INDIANS 49
TEACHING THE PAWNEES A LESSON 51
THE PAWNEE VILLAGE 53
A BOLD DEMAND 54
I GAIN CREDIT AS A GUIDE 56
A DIFFICULT CROSSING 58
WASH DAY 60
INDIAN PICTURES 62
A PLAGUE OF WOOD TICKS 64
ANOTHER TEMPEST 66
THE CATTLE STAMPEDED AGAIN 68
DIFFICULT TRAVELING 69
COLONEL KEARNY'S DRAGOONS 71
DISAGREEABLE VISITORS 73
DRIVING AWAY THE INDIANS 75
TURKEY HUNTING 76
EAGER HUNTERS 77
ANTELOPE COUNTRY 79
SHOOTING ANTELOPES 81
A PAWNEE VISITOR 83
THE PAWNEES TRY TO FRIGHTEN US 85
DEFENDING OURSELVES 87
SCARCITY OF FUEL, AND DISCOMFORT 89
LAME OXEN 91
AN ARMY OF EMIGRANTS 92
THE BUFFALO COUNTRY 95
HUNTING BUFFALOES 97
MY MOTHER'S ADVICE 99
ASH HOLLOW POST OFFICE 100
NEW COMRADES 102
FORT LARAMIE 103
A SIOUX ENCAMPMENT 106
INDIANS ON THE MARCH 107
THE FOURTH OF JULY 109
MULTITUDES OF BUFFALOES 111
WE MEET COLONEL KEARNY AGAIN 113
ACROSS THE DIVIDE 115
FORT BRIDGER 117
TRADING AT FORT HALL 122
THIEVISH SNAKES 123
THE HOT SPRINGS 124
THE FALLS OF THE SNAKE RIVER 126
SIGNS OF THE INDIANS 128
BESET WITH DANGER 129
HUNGER AND THIRST 131
NEARLY EXHAUSTED 133
ARRIVAL AT FORT BOISE 135
ON THE TRAIL ONCE MORE 137
CAYUSE INDIANS 139
THE COLUMBIA RIVER 140
AN INDIAN FERRY 141
THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA 143
OUR LIVE STOCK 144
MY WORK AS GUIDE ENDED 145
I BECOME A FARMER 146
ANTOINE OF OREGON
THE FUR TRADERS
There is ever much pride in my heart when I hear it said that all the
trails leading from the Missouri River into the Great West were
pointed out to the white people by fur buyers, for my father was well
known, and in a friendly way, as one of the most successful of the
free traders who had their headquarters at St. Louis.
[Illustration]
It is not for me to say, nor for you to believe, that the fur traders
were really the first to travel over these trails, for, as a matter of
fact, they were marked out in the early days by the countless numbers
of buffaloes, deer, and other animals that always took the most direct
road from their feeding places to where water could be found.
Then came the Indians, seeking a trail from one part of the country to
another, and they followed in the footsteps of the animals, knowing
full well that thereby they would not lack for water, the one thing
needful to those who go to and fro in the wilderness.
Thus it was that the animals and the Indians combined to mark out the
most direct roads that could be made, with due regard to the bodily
needs of those who traveled from one part of the Great West to
another.
As the traders in furs journeyed from tribe to tribe of the Indians,
or sought the most favored places for trapping, they learned how white
men could go westward from the Missouri River to the Pacific Ocean
without fear of dying from hunger or thirst.
My father, Pierre Laclede, was, as I have said, a free trader, which
means that he went out into the wilderness with his crew of boatmen
and trappers, free from any bargains or duties to the great fur
trading companies, such as the Hudson's Bay, the Northwest, and the X.
Y.
There were regular battles fought between the hunters and trappers of
these great companies in the olden days, when St. Louis was under
Spanish rule and had become a famous gathering place for the fur
traders.
There were many like my father, who, hiring men to help them, carried
into the wilderness goods to be exchanged with the Indians for furs,
and, failing in this, set about trapping fur-bearing animals
throughout the winter season.
Wonderful sport these same traders had, as I know full well, having
been more than once with my father over that trail leading from the
Missouri River to the Oregon country.
Then there was the home-coming to St. Louis, when every man forgot the
days on which he had been cold or hungry, and no longer heeded the
half-healed wounds received in Indian attacks, when he had been forced
to defend with his life the furs he had gathered.
Once in St. Louis, what rare times of feasting and making merry, while
the furs were being shipped to New Orleans, or bartered to the big
companies that were ever on the watch for the return of the free
traders!
WHY I AM NOT A FUR TRADER
I, Antoine Laclede, would have followed in the footsteps of my father,
becoming myself a free trader after the treacherous Blackfeet Indians
killed him, had it not been that my mother, with her arms around my
neck, pleaded that I remain at home with her.
Therefore, instead of carrying on my father's business as a lad of
fifteen should have done, I strove to content myself at St. Louis, to
the pleasure of my dear mother.
[Illustration]
However much affection there might be between us, it remained that we
must be supplied with food, and that my mother should have the things
necessary for her comfort.
But if I did not take up my father's business after he had lost, with
his life, the store of furs which he had been eight months in
gathering, as well as what remained of the goods he had carried into
the wilderness for trading, then how could I rightly fill the position
as head of the family, when all I had in this world were my two hands
and the desire to make my mother happy?
We lived on a street near the old cathedral, and it may be that our
small home was not the most pleasing to look upon of all the houses in
St. Louis; but in it I was born. My father had built it, paying for
every timber with furs he had gathered at risk of his life, and I
would not have yielded it in exchange for the finest house in the
land.
The evil days fell upon us, meaning my mother and me, very shortly
after the news of my father's murder was brought to St. Louis, for we
soon came to know that we had neither goods nor furs enough to keep us
one full year.
STRIVING TO PLAN FOR THE FUTURE
Then it was that I went out one day alone to the river bank, where I
might have solitude and think how I could care for my mother as the
only son of a widow should care for that person whom he most loves.
I had lived fifteen years. There was no trapper in the Northwest
Company who could take more furs than I could. To ride and shoot were
my pleasures, and my unhappiness was in being forced to set down words
with a pen, or to puzzle my poor brain over long rows of figures which
must have been invented only for the sorrow of Antoine Laclede.
My rifle and Napoleon, a small spotted pony that could outkick any
beast this side the Rocky Mountains, made up all I owned of value, and
yet with them I must earn enough to support my mother and make her
comfortable.
The truth is, I might have joined with some free trader who had known
my father, working for a small wage, which would not be more than
enough to supply my mother with food and clothes such as had been
provided by my father; but I must earn more than that, lest the day
should come when, from wounds or sickness, I could not hold up my end
with my companions on the trail or with the traps.
All this made my heart heavy as I sat there on the river bank asking
myself what there was a lad like me could do.
[Illustration]
Just at that time, when I was most downhearted, a man, tall of stature
and spare in flesh, came up close beside me, and, as it seemed, looked
down with much mirth in his heart, perhaps because I carried such a
woebegone expression on my face.
AN INQUISITIVE STRANGER
Then, much to my surprise, he said, speaking in what seemed an odd
tone, much as though he had a cold in his head:--
"Are you the son of Laclede, the free trader who was killed by the
Blackfeet Indians not so long ago?"
I was ever proud to own that I was my father's son, and speedily gave
the stranger an answer, although at the same time asking myself
whether there was any good reason for such a question, or if he was
intending to make sport of me.
"I am told that you have been over the trail 'twixt here and the
Oregon country with your father, lad?"
"I have been twice into the land of the Walla Wallas, but no farther
than that, although it would have pleased me well could I have seen
the great ocean."
"Now I am not so certain where the country of what you call the Walla
Wallas may be," the man said with a puzzled expression upon his face,
whereupon I answered quickly, proud because of being able to tell:--
"It is this side the Cascade Range, the other side of the Blue
Mountains, near where the Columbia River takes a sharp turn to the
westward."
"The Columbia River, eh?" the man repeated, as if satisfied with my
reply. "Then you surely must have traveled near to the Pacific Ocean?"
"I have been so near that one might go down the river to it in a
canoe, if he were so disposed; but there is a station of the Hudson's
Bay Company near the coast and we free traders who deal with the
Northwest Company have no desire for traffic with those who would shut
us out from St. Louis, fearing lest we may cut into their trade."
AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSITION
[Illustration]
The man seated himself by my side as if satisfied that I was the one
whom he sought, and began his business by saying:--
"My name is John Mitchell. I am at the head of a party of thirty men,
women, and children who are bound for the Oregon country. We are
taking with us forty head of oxen, twenty horses, ten mules, and
thirty cows, to say nothing of the remainder of the outfit. I counted
on meeting here at St. Louis a man who would guide us across, but
find that he has left us in the lurch, likely because of getting a
better offer from some other company of settlers. Now I have been told
that you could serve us as guide; that you are what may be called a
fairly good hunter; and, although you look a bit too young for the
business, there are those here in St. Louis who say you may be
depended upon. What about guiding my party across? We are willing to
pay considerably more than fair wages--"
"It may not be for me to do any such thing," I replied quickly,
although at the same time wishing I could go once more into the Oregon
country and do a man's work as guide. "I have here my mother, who has
no other to depend upon, and I must stand by her, as a son should."
"Well said, lad, well said. It does you credit to think first of your
mother; but we are willing to pay considerable money to one who can
guide us, because this kind of traveling is new to all my party.
Already in coming up from Indiana we have had trouble with the cattle
and with the teams. Now say three hundred dollars for the trip, and if
you are minded to take your mother with you we stand ready to let her
share in whatsoever we have."
There is no reason why I should set down all we said, for we sat there
on the river bank until an hour had passed, talking all the while.
Each moment I grew more and more eager for the adventure, until it
seemed to me I had never had but one desire in life, and that to go
into the Oregon country and make there a home for my mother.
I promised to meet the man again that evening and went straight away
home to lay the matter before my mother. It surprised me not a little
that she seemed to be in favor of going to the Oregon country, and I
have since been led to believe that her willingness to abandon the
home in St. Louis came from the wish to make a change and to leave
that place where everything must needs remind her of my father.
I SET OUT AS A GUIDE
Before seeking out John Mitchell, whose company was encamped on the
opposite side of the river, I visited a neighbor who had once offered
to buy our home. With him I agreed that for a certain sum of money he
should take possession of the house, using it as his own until my
mother and I came back, or, in case we remained in the Oregon country,
then he was to pay us as many dollars as we agreed upon.
That afternoon, an hour before sunset, I paddled across the river to
where John Mitchell's company was encamped, and for the first time I
questioned whether it might be possible for me, a lad only fifteen
years of age, to guide all these people, who seemingly had no more
idea of what was to be encountered in a journey to the Oregon country,
than if they had never heard of such a place.
I dare venture to say there could not have been found in St. Louis a
lad over ten years old who would have shown so much ignorance in
forming a camp, as did John Mitchell, who held himself commander of
the company.
[Illustration]
True, there was no reason why they need guard themselves as if in the
country of an enemy. Yet if they were careless at the start, heeding
not the common precautions against the stampeding of their cattle, or
the possibility that prowling Indians might steal whatever lay
carelessly around, then surely when in a place where danger lurked,
they could not be depended upon to care for themselves in a sensible
manner.
Somewhat of this I said to John Mitchell while looking around the
encampment, and that he himself was ignorant of what might be met with
on a journey to the Oregon country, was shown when he asked:--
"And are you reckoning, lad, that we may come upon much danger?"
"Ay, sir, and plenty of it," I replied. "Just now the Indians are
quiet, so I have heard it said by the traders; but even when there is
no disturbance of any account, you are likely to come upon roving
bands that will make trouble. Even though they may do no worse, you
can set it down as a fact that from the time of leaving the settlement
of Independence, where the journey really begins, until you have come
into the Walla Walla country, there will be hardly a day, or, I should
say, a night, when you are not in danger of losing your stock through
these red thieves."
JOHN MITCHELL'S OUTFIT
There was one thing in favor of John Mitchell, as I looked at the
matter, which was that his outfit was most complete. He had five
well-made carts with straight bodies, and sideboards from fourteen to
sixteen inches wide running outward four or five inches; in other
words, what are called "Mormon wagons," and to three of these he
counted on putting four yoke of cattle apiece. I was not so well
satisfied with this, for the beasts had been raised in Indiana, and
therefore were not accustomed to eating prairie grass, which would be
the greater portion of their food during the journey.
[Illustration]
I had always heard it said that Illinois or Missouri cattle could
stand the journey to the Oregon country better than any others,
although then I did not know it from my own experience.
The ten mules were to be used for the hauling of the two remaining
wagons. To one of these would be harnessed six of the animals, and the
other, in which many of the women and children were to ride, was to be
drawn by four. The horses were to be used under the saddle.
I was forced to admit that Mitchell had not been niggardly in
outfitting his company.
He had no less than five sheet-iron stoves with boilers, one being
carried on a small platform at the rear end of each wagon. There were
tents in abundance for all the company, while for cooking utensils,
there were plates and cups and basins of tinware, half a dozen or more
churns, an ample supply of water kegs, and farming tools almost
without number.
[Illustration]
I had little or no interest in this part of the outfit, but took good
care to make certain there were ropes and hobble straps in plenty for
tying up the horses and fettering those that were likely to stray,
because I knew from experience how much of such supplies might be lost
or stolen during the long journey.
The weapons carried by the men were of heavier caliber than I would
have suggested, unless they counted on using them wholly for buffalo
shooting. John Mitchell took no little pride in showing me his rifled
gun which carried thirty-two bullets to the pound, when to my mind
fifty-six would have served him better for general work; but that was
really no concern of mine.
MAKING THE BARGAIN
We talked over the matter fairly and at great length, all the men of
the company and some of the women taking part in the parley. The
bargain, as I understood it, was that I was hired for no other service
than to guide this company, and also to make suggestions as to the
best places for camping, as well as how we could keep the people
supplied with fresh meat.
It was agreed that my mother should ride in the four-mule wagon with
John Mitchell's family, which consisted of his wife, a girl about my
own age by name of Susan, and three awkward-looking boys. The oldest
of these lads was not more than ten, I should think, and all of them
were so clumsy that it seemed almost impossible for them to avoid
treading on their own feet. About mounting a horse or rounding up
cattle, they knew no more than my Napoleon knew about good manners.
Susan, however, was a sprightly girl, who, as it seemed to me, had
more good sense in her little finger than might be found in all the
rest of the family. Before my visit was at an end, she came to ask
concerning this or that which we might meet with on the way, and I
believed I had found one who would be a most desirable comrade.
[Illustration]
Unless I mistook her entirely, she was a girl to be depended upon in
the time of trouble, and when one would travel from the Missouri River
to the Oregon country, it is of the greatest importance to have with
him only those who can be relied on to a certainty when danger lurks
at hand, as it surely does, so I have heard my father say, from the
time the voyager leaves the Kansas River until he has come to the
Columbia.
It was agreed that my mother and I should have a day in which to make
ready for this journey, which, if we met with no serious mishaps,
would require not less than five months to make; therefore it can well
be understood that we had little time to spend in sleep, if we would
present ourselves to John Mitchell at the hour agreed upon.
It is my desire never to make a promise which I do not, or cannot
keep; consequently there were many things left undone in St. Louis
when mother and I crossed the river; but it was better thus than that
I should disappoint ever so slightly those with whom I had made a
positive agreement.
WE LEAVE ST. LOUIS
In order that one may the better understand how much of a journey it
is from the Missouri River to the Oregon country, I set down here the
fact that at eleven o'clock in the forenoon, on the twenty-fifth day
of April, in the year 1845, we, meaning John Mitchell's company, my
mother, and I, set off on that long march. The real journey would not
begin until we had passed that settlement on the Missouri known as
Independence, which is the point of departure for those who count on
traversing the Oregon or the Santa Fe trail.
Therefore concerning this portion of our march I shall content myself
simply with saying that we arrived at Independence on the morning of
May 6th, and made camp two miles beyond, on the bank of a small creek,
where there was plenty of grass for the cattle.
It must be understood that up to this time we had been traveling
through one settlement and another in a portion of the country where
were to be found as many people as lived, mayhap, in the neighborhood
from which John Mitchell had come. Yet so awkward were the men and
boys, that while we were traversing beaten roads they found it
exceedingly difficult to keep the cows from straying or the oxen from
stampeding even while they were yoked and hitched to the heavy wagons.
I do not claim to have had any experience at driving oxen or herding
cattle, and therefore I held myself aloof, saying it were better these
people from Indiana should learn their lesson when there were but few
difficulties in the way and no dangers, so that after we should come
where the real labor began, they might at least have some slight idea
of what was expected of them.
THE HARDSHIPS TO BE ENCOUNTERED
But for the fact that Susan Mitchell, riding upon a small black,
wiry-looking horse, held herself well by my side, I would have been
disheartened even before we had really begun the journey, because I
was looking forward to what we must encounter, and saying to myself
that unless these people could pull themselves together in better
fashion, we were certain to come to grief.
When a company fails to herd thirty cows, over what might well be
called a beaten highway, what would you expect when in a country where
the Indians are doing all they can to stampede and run off cattle as
well as horses?
I soon saw that Susan was a girl of good understanding, for without a
word having been spoken, she seemed to realize those fears which had
come into my mind, and said again and again as if to strengthen my
courage:--
"They will know more about this kind of traveling when we reach
Independence."
[Illustration]
I could not refrain from saying in reply that unless they learned more
speedily it would be well we waited a full year at Independence,
rather than attempt a journey where so much danger and hardship
awaited us.
I venture to say that there was not one among John Mitchell's company
who could have put a pack upon a horse in such a manner that it would
hold in place half an hour over rough traveling; and as for handling
a mule team, the driver of that wagon in which my mother rode had no
more idea of how the beasts should be treated than if he had so many
sheep in harness.
To show how ignorant these people were regarding the country, I have
only to say that from the moment we left St. Louis one or another was
continually asking me whether we were likely to come upon buffaloes
before the night had set. The idea of buffaloes between St. Louis and
Independence, save perchance we came upon some old bull that had been
driven away from the herd by the hunters!
It was by my advice that John Mitchell decided to overhaul his outfit
at Independence in order to learn whether there might be anything
needed, for after having left the settlement we would find no
opportunity of replenishing our stores save at some one of the forts,
and then it was a question, serious indeed, whether we could get what
might be needed.
THE CAMP AT INDEPENDENCE
The tents were hardly more than set up, and the women had but just got
about their cooking, for the breakfast had been a hasty meal owing to
our being so near the settlement, when we were visited by a dozen or
more Kansas Indians, who are about as disreputable a looking lot as
can be found in the country--dirty, ill-favored red men with ragged
blankets cast about them, and seeming more like beggars than anything
else.
To tell the truth, I would rather have seen around the camp a
Blackfoot, a Cheyenne, or a Sioux, knowing that any of them would
murder me if he had a fair opportunity, than those beggarly Kansas
savages.
[Illustration]
It was the first time any of the women of our company, save my mother,
had seen an Indian near his own village, and straightway all of them,
with the exception of Susan, were in a panic of fear, believing harm
would be done.
Even John Mitchell was undecided as to how he should treat them, until
I told him that any attempt to drive the creatures away would be
useless, and that if his people were so disposed they might give them
some food; but it was in the highest degree necessary that sharp watch
be kept, else we would find much of our outfit missing after the
visitors had taken their departure.
The men and the boys of our company were so disquieted because of
having come thus suddenly upon the Indians, that they kept good watch
over the camp during this first day, and it would have been well for
all of us if they had continued to stand as honest guard over their
belongings.
It was found that we were needing extra bows for the wagons, meaning
those bent hoops over which the canvas covering is stretched, that the
supply of shoes for the horses and mules was not sufficient, and, in
fact, there were half a hundred little things required which the women
believed necessary to their comfort.
Therefore John Mitchell and I went into the settlement to get what was
wanted, and, like the good comrade she gave promise of being, Susan
insisted on going with us.
A FRONTIER TOWN
Independence was much like a trading post, save that there were no
blockhouses; but the log tavern had the appearance of a building put
up to resist an attack, and the brick houses surrounding it were made
with heavy walls in which were more than one loophole for defense.
The idea that the settlement was a frontier post was heightened by the
number of Indians to be seen, while their scrawny ponies were tied
here and there in every available place.
[Illustration]
There were the wretched Kansas, only half covered with their greasy,
torn blankets, Shawnees, decked out in calicoes and fanciful stuff,
Foxes, with their shaved heads and painted faces, and here and there a
Cheyenne sporting his war bonnet of feathers.
The scene was not new to me, and so did not invite my attention; but
Susan, who seemingly believed that she had suddenly come into the very
heart of the Indian country, was so interested that I went with her
here and there, while her father was bartering in the shops, and
before an hour had passed her idea of an Indian was far different from
what it had been before she left her home in Indiana.
I had nothing to say against the savages more than can be set down
when I speak of the murder of my father, and save for the fact that
Susan was so eager to see all she might, and that everything was so
strange to her, I would not have lingered in the settlement a single
minute longer than was necessary to complete our outfit.
[Illustration]
There were here Santa Fe traders in Mexican costume; French trappers
from the mountains, with their long hair and buckskin clothing; groups
of Spaniards, who were evidently bound down the Santa Fe trail; and
here and there and everywhere as it seemed, were people from the
States, emigrants like those who followed John Mitchell, to the
number, I should say, of not less than two hundred, all expecting to
make homes in the Oregon country.
It saddened me to think of what was before these people. To gain the
banks of the Columbia River they must travel more than two thousand
miles, in part over sandy plains, where would be found little or no
water for themselves and scanty feed for their animals. There were
rivers to be crossed where the current ran so swiftly that a single
misstep might mean death. Mountain ranges were to be climbed when even
the strongest would find it difficult to make progress, and all the
while danger from wild beasts or wilder men.
And it was I who must show these men when and where to camp, how to
bring down the game which would be necessary for their very existence,
and lead them, in fact, as one might lead children.
THE START FROM INDEPENDENCE
We remained in camp by the creek until next morning, and then our way
lay over the rolling prairies, where was grass on every hand and water
in abundance, yet we made only fifteen miles between eight o'clock in
the morning and within an hour of sunset, owing to the awkwardness of
those who were striving to drive our few head of cattle.
Then came the first real camp, meaning the first time we had halted
where it was necessary to guard everything we owned against the
Indians, for we knew full well there were plenty in the vicinity of
Independence, and I strove my best to show these people how an
encampment should be formed on the prairie.
[Illustration]
It was difficult to persuade John Mitchell that it would be better to
give the horses and mules a side hobble, than to take chances of
securing them by picket ropes. I had always heard that by buckling a
strap around the fore and hind legs, on the same side, taking due care
not to chafe the animal's legs, he could not move away faster than a
walk, while if he was hobbled by the forefeet only, it would be
possible for him to gallop after some practice.
There were many in our party who claimed it was a useless precaution
to hobble the horses, and insisted on fastening them to picket pins,
doing so in such a slovenly manner that I knew if the animals were
stampeded they could easily make their escape.
Before morning came we had good proof that carelessness in looking
after the live stock at such a time is much the same as a crime.
CARELESS TRAVELERS
When I proposed that watch be set around the encampment during the
night, every man, even including John Mitchell, protested, saying it
was a needless precaution, that they were all needing sleep, and there
was no reason why any should stand guard when they could look around
on every hand and make certain there was no one near to do them harm.
One of the women asked me if there might be any danger from wild
beasts, and when I told her we had not yet come into that part of the
country where such game were found, every member of the company
believed I was only trying to show myself as the commander.
I heard one of the men say grumblingly to another, that he was not
minded to put himself under the orders of a boy who took pleasure in
displaying his authority even to the extent of making them stand
needless watch.
Never had I seen my father make camp, even though no more than two
miles from a fort or a settlement, without carefully hobbling his
horses, rounding up the cattle, if he had any, and stationing a picket
guard, insisting that those on duty remain awake during every hour of
the night.
[Illustration]
Now, however, these people from Indiana, who knew nothing whatsoever
of traveling in the wilderness, claimed to have a better idea of how
camp should be guarded than did I, who had already traversed the
Oregon trail twice, and I so far lost my temper as to make no reply,
saying to myself that if they were inclined to take desperate chances,
the loss would be theirs, not mine.
Mayhap if we had been farther along the trail among the mountains,
where the danger would be greater if we lost all our animals, then for
my mother's sake I might have insisted strongly that the orders which
I gave should be obeyed.
As I have said, however, I held my peace, while those foolish people
lay down to sleep in their tents, or in the wagon bodies, believing
they were safe beyond any possible chance of danger simply because of
being no more than seventeen miles from Independence.
I must say to John Mitchell's credit that he outfitted me as he would
have done an older guide, and set apart for my especial use one of the
small canvas tents.
Believing that my mother would have more comfort by herself than if
she shared a bed in one of the larger tents, or in one of the wagons
where so many must sleep, I proposed that she use my camp, and we two
laid ourselves down that night feeling uncomfortable in mind, for she
understood quite as well as did I that we were taking great chances at
the outset of the journey.
I had hobbled Napoleon securely, as you can well fancy. In addition to
that I had made him fast to a picket pin firmly driven into the ground
so there might be no danger of his straying too far away.
It was not a simple matter to enjoy the resting time, because of the
weight of responsibility which was upon me.
Even though John Mitchell's people were not inclined to obey such
orders as I saw fit to give, yet I knew that in event of trouble they
would cast all the blame on my shoulders, and not until a full hour
had passed were my eyes closed in slumber.
OVERRUN BY WILD HORSES
[Illustration]
It seemed as if I had hardly more than lost myself in sleep when I was
aroused by a noise like distant thunder, and springing to my feet, as
I had been taught to do by my father at the first suspicious sound, I
stood at the door of the tent while one might have counted ten, before
realizing that a herd of those wild ponies which are to be found now
and then on the prairies was coming upon us.
Once before in my life had I seen horses and cattle stampeded by a
herd of those little animals, and without loss of time I rushed into
the open air, shouting loudly for the men to bear a hand, at the same
time discharging all the chambers of my weapon.
Unfortunately, however, I was too late to avert the evil. If we had
had a single man on guard he could have given warning in time for us
to have checked the rush; but as it was the ponies were within the
encampment before I had emptied my weapon.
John Mitchell had not brushed the slumber from his eyelids before the
ponies overran the camp and passed on at full speed, taking with them
every horse, mule, ox, and cow we had among us, save only Napoleon,
who would have joined in the flight had it been possible for him to do
so.
"What has happened? What was it?" John Mitchell cried as he came
running toward my tent with half a dozen of the other men at his
heels, and I replied with no little bitterness in my tone:--
"A herd of wild ponies has stampeded every head of stock, except
Napoleon."
"But _my_ horse was made fast," one man cried, as if, because he had
left the animal with his leading rope around a picket pin loosely
driven, it would have been impossible for him to get away.
The driver of the four-mule team declared that his stock could not
have been run off because he had seen to it that each animal was
hitched securely, while a third insisted that we must have been
visited by the Indians, who had frightened the beasts in order the
better to carry them away.
I could not refrain from saying what was true:--
"If we had had but one man on guard this could not have happened. I
tell you that the disturbance this night was caused by a herd of wild
ponies."
"Then why do we not go in search of the stock?" John Mitchell cried,
and I replied:--
"That you may do, if it please you; but I have never yet seen the man
who, on foot, could come up with a horse that had joined the wild of
his kind. When the morning dawns, I will do all I can to aid in
gathering up the stock, but until then there is nothing to be done."
Then, with much anger in my heart because this thing had happened
through sheer carelessness, I went back into my tent, nor would I have
more to say to any member of the company, although no less than half a
dozen men stood outside asking this question or that, all of which
simply served to show their folly.
SEARCHING FOR THE LIVE STOCK
When day broke John Mitchell was man enough to meet me as I came out
of my tent, and say in what he intended should be a soothing tone:--
"I am willing to admit, lad, that we showed ourselves foolish in not
obeying your orders. From now on you can make certain every man jack
of us will do whatsoever you say. Now tell us how we had best set off
in search of the stock."
"There is no haste. The horses and mules will run with the ponies
until they are tired and need food, therefore we may eat our breakfast
leisurely. My advice is that the company get under way, moving a few
miles across the prairie to the next creek, while all, save those
needed to drive the teams, go with me."
[Illustration]
"But we can't start a single wheel. There is no ox, horse, or mule in
the encampment," John Mitchell cried, and then my face flushed with
shame because I had forgotten for the instant that we had no means of
breaking camp.
There is little need why I should spend many words in telling of what
we did during that day. Within an hour we found one of the mules and
succeeded in getting hold of his leading rope. Before noon we had
overtaken all the cows and eight of the oxen, bringing them back to
camp while the wild ponies circled around the prairie within seven or
eight miles of us, as if laughing to scorn our poor attempts to catch
the horses which they had stolen.
The afternoon was not yet half spent when we succeeded in gathering up
all our stock save two horses and two mules, and then I insisted we
should go on without them.
"Between here and the Columbia River we shall lose more stock than
that," I said, "and if we are to reach the Oregon country before
winter sets in, such misadventures as this must not be allowed to
delay us."
ABANDONING THE MISSING ANIMALS
I noted that more than one of the men wore a dissatisfied look, as if
believing we should remain at this camp until all the stock had been
found; but mayhap they remembered that the loss was caused by their
not listening to me, and not a word was said in protest.
Next day, without giving further heed to the horses and mules that
were with the pony herd, we pushed forward toward the Oregon country
once more, traveling twenty-two miles and in the meanwhile crossing
the Wakarusa River.
Then came a stretch of prairie land, and after that, near nightfall,
we arrived at the Kansas River, where camp was made.
This time you may set it down as certain that when I claimed we ought
to set a picket guard, there were none to say me nay. Even more, I
noticed that every man carefully hobbled his horses or his mules, as I
hobbled Napoleon, and when I went into my tent I said to myself that
we need have no fear of trouble that night.
When we started out next day, Susan Mitchell insisted on riding by my
side. She held her place there until we made camp, although it was no
slight task, for while the company was passing over twenty miles of
distance, I had ridden from the front to the rear of the train mayhap
twelve times, thereby almost doubling the length of the journey.
Not once did the plucky girl show signs of faltering, even though a
good half of the day's march was up the side of a ridge and along the
top of it, where the way was hard even for those of us who were riding
light.
MEETING WITH OTHER EMIGRANTS
We were traveling within two or three miles of the Kansas River, not
yet having come to the ford, when at about four o'clock in the
afternoon we overtook a company of people who were bound for the
Oregon country, having in their train twenty-eight wagons.
At first John Mitchell was eager to join the strangers as they
suggested; but he lost much of the desire on being told that two miles
in advance was another party having nearly a hundred wagons. I really
believe the man grew confused when he learned there were so many
people on the Oregon trail.
[Illustration]
When he asked my advice as to joining the larger company, I told him
that my father had ever said if he could travel independently of any
one else, it was profitable for him to do so, for then he was forced
neither to go faster than he desired, nor remain idle when it pleased
him to push on.
I asked John Mitchell how much he could gain by forming a small part
of such a large company, unless, perhaps, he intended to dismiss me
as guide, whereupon he assured me heartily that he had no such idea,
but it seemed to him we might join the strangers for mutual
assistance.
It was not for me to do more than offer advice, and I told him that
unless we came upon hostile Indians, we had best continue on by
ourselves, for the time was coming, and not very far in the future,
when we should be put to it to find grass for the cattle and fuel with
which to cook our food. At such times the smaller the company, the
less chance for suffering.
It was Susan who settled the matter, for she said very decidedly that
I, who had already traveled over the Oregon trail twice, ought to know
more about such affairs than any other in the company.
When she had spoken, her father held his peace as if convinced that
her words were wise.
We did not overtake the company of a hundred wagons that night, but
camped near a small brook about four miles from the Kansas River, I
having led the people off the trail a mile or more so that we might
not be joined by those emigrants in the rear.
Next morning we traveled four miles to the river ford, and there found
the water already so high that there was nothing to do but to ferry
our wagons over in a flatboat owned by a man named Choteau whom I had
already known in St. Louis.
He was no relative of that famous Choteau of the fur company, but a
very obliging Frenchman indeed, who, because of his acquaintance with
me, did all he could to hasten our movements. It was necessary we have
a friend in such work, for it was a hard task to make the journey back
and forth across that muddy stream, which was at least two hundred and
fifty yards wide, when we could carry only one unloaded wagon at a
time.
[Illustration]
A TEMPEST
It was nearly nightfall before we were all across with our outfit and
cattle, and then I gave the word that we should encamp within a mile
of the stream, for I was not pleased with the appearance of dark
clouds which were rolling up from the west.
It would have been better had I halted the company when we first
crossed, for before we could get the tents up and the wagons in place,
a terrific storm of thunder and lightning was upon us.
Instantly, as it seemed, our oxen and cows were stampeded, rushing off
across the prairie like wild things, and although I did my best to
round them up, all efforts were vain.
There was nothing for it but to let them go, and seek shelter from the
downpour of water, which was so heavy that at times one could hardly
stand against it.
[Illustration]
Susan Mitchell had followed my mother into the tent which I had taken
care to set up immediately we halted, and because there was no other
shelter save the overcrowded wagons, the girl was there when I
entered. It made my heart ache to see the evidences of her fright.
Well was it for her that she was with my mother, for I truly believe
none could have soothed her fears so readily.
I left the two together while the storm was at its height, and sought
shelter in one of the wagons, believing the tempest would continue to
rage throughout the night.
Next morning, before day had fully come, I aroused all the men. We
saddled our horses and set out in search of the cattle, John Mitchell
saying in a grumbling tone as he rode forward, that it seemed to him
as if he was "doing more in the way of running down oxen and cows,
than in making any progress toward the Oregon country."
Hardly realizing how true my words might prove to be, I told him
laughingly that we were likely to get more of such work as the days
wore on, rather than less, and another four and twenty hours had not
passed before he came to believe that I was a true prophet.
Not until noon did we succeed in getting all the live stock rounded
up, and I believed we were exceedingly fortunate in not losing a
single animal, for it seldom happens, as I have heard, that cattle can
be stampeded during the night and every one brought into camp next
morning.
It was my belief that we ought to travel rapidly during the afternoon
and until a reasonably late hour in the night, in order to make up the
time we had lost; but it is one thing to say and quite another matter
to accomplish.
FACING THE INDIANS
After traveling no more than three miles we arrived at Big Soldier
Creek. As Susan and I were riding on in advance to make certain the
ford was safe for heavy wagons, I saw coming down over a slight
incline a band of mounted Indians, who immediately, on seeing our
company, came forward at full speed, brandishing bows and arrows, or
guns, accordingly as they were armed, and yelling furiously.
Susan Mitchell screamed with fear, as well she might; but I had
already seen just such an Indian maneuver and knew what it meant. I
hurriedly told her to ride back and join the company, while I held
Napoleon steady.
Their intention was to stampede the cattle, as I well knew, and
although it would have been unwise for me to have sent a bullet among
them, it was my purpose to do so if I failed in checking their advance
otherwise.
Then Napoleon took the matter into his own hands, or, I should say,
his own feet, for when the Indians were perhaps thirty yards away he
wheeled about, flinging up his heels as if he counted on kicking the
entire band over the ridge.
[Illustration]
Do what I might I could not get the stubborn animal wheeled around
before the savages had rushed by me, whooping and yelling in such a
manner as caused a panic among our company and a stampede of the
beasts.
The oxen wheeled around in the yokes until they were so mixed up that
the most expert would have found it difficult to untangle them, while
the cows, their tails straight up in the air, fled back over the
trail, bellowing with fright.
TEACHING THE PAWNEES A LESSON
By the time all this mischief had been done, Napoleon was ready to
attend to his own business once more, and I rode among the company to
find the people in such a state of panic and fear as one would hardly
credit.
"Get your rifles and follow me!" I shouted as I rushed forward, and it
is quite certain that more than one of the men cried after me to come
back, for all were so terrified that they would have suffered the loss
of the stock rather than make any attempt at reclaiming it.
[Illustration]
It must not be supposed that I am trying to make it appear as if I was
wondrously brave in thus giving chase. I knew from the experience
gained while with my father, that there is but one way to treat these
savages, and that is to put on a bold front.
After doing any mischief the Indians would go farther and farther,
until having accomplished all their desires, if their victims made no
attempt to defend themselves; therefore it was necessary that we make
a decided stand.
I knew full well that if we pursued, these Pawnees, as I judged them
to be, would speedily be brought to their senses. Whereas if we
remained idle in camp they would run off all the stock, and for us to
lose that herd of cows at the very outset of the journey would indeed
have been disastrous.
It was fortunate for those under my charge that they followed as I
commanded, even though they did not do so willingly. When we had
ridden at our best pace six miles or more, we came upon all except
three of the cows who, wearied with their mad race, were now feeding;
but not a feather of an Indian could be seen.
That the Pawnees knew we were coming in pursuit, there could be no
doubt, and because they were not in war paint I understood that they
must have an encampment near by.
Therefore, as soon as we had rounded up the cattle, I told John
Mitchell it was our duty to search for the Indian camp, and there
demand that they return to us, or aid us in searching for, the cows we
failed to find.
THE PAWNEE VILLAGE
The man looked at me uncertainly an instant, as if questioning whether
we had the pluck, as the Easterners say, to ride into an Indian
encampment. Then he said grimly, almost as if doubting his own
judgment:--
"I shall do as you say, boy; but if mischief comes of it, remember
that I hold you responsible."
"Mischief will surely come of it if we fail to put on a bold front," I
replied hotly, and then wheeling Napoleon around, I sent him ahead
under the whip, which he richly deserved because, but for his foolish
trick of kicking, all this mischief might have been spared us.