goods for the company, blew up somewhere near Fort Union, when on her
trip up to Fort Benton. Mr. Sam Ford, who now lives at the city of
Great Falls, was on the boat at the time of the accident. The cargo was
lost, consequently they had to get another supply from Fort Union. The
goods had to be hauled overland to Fort Benton. I, with others, was
sent to bring the goods. We left Fort Union with several wagons and
carts drawn by oxen and horses. Mr. Andrew Dawson, who was connected
with the company, had charge of the outfit. One morning, when we were
traveling, a war party of Crows came to us. They at once demanded some
goods. Mr. Dawson gave them all, a small gift, but, for all that, they
kept troubling us by trying to stop our teams and they would get on
the back of the horses that were pulling the wagons and climb on the
wagon tongues and ride the wheel oxen. In this way they kept following
and tormenting us. Sometimes they would go away, but only to return,
and no doubt they intended to rob us when the first night came. One
time they surrounded and stopped us and demanded more goods; some of
them attempting to get into the wagons. Again Mr. Dawson gave them
several blankets, a box of tobacco, a box of hardtack crackers, and
other small trinkets; this satisfied them then, but it was not long
before they came again and acted meaner than ever. One Indian, while
trying to get on the wagon tongue, was kicked by the wheel ox and he
fell, the wagon wheel going over and killing him. The other Indians
carried him away and we went on for several miles unmolested. But
soon there came a large band of the savage devils, with nothing on in
the way of clothing except a breech clout; they had their hands full
of arrows and their bows strung ready to send an arrow on a moment’s
signal, and, in an angry manner, forbade us to go any further or there
would be trouble, and with violent threats demanded pay for the killing
of their man. Mr. Dawson reasoned with them, saying that it was the
Indian’s own fault that he was killed, but this would not satisfy them;
they were bound to have goods and plenty of them, or scalps. Just then
a Gros Ventres chief, with about fifty warriors, arrived, and, no
doubt, was the cause of saving us from being massacred by the savage
Crows. At this time a large camp of Gros Ventres was at Wolfe Point,
about twenty-five miles up the river. Through some source they were
informed that the Crows were interfering with our wagon train and came
to see about it. It appears that about twelve months previous the Gros
Ventres and Crows had made peace with each other, and, at this time,
they were on friendly terms. It was but a few minutes after the arrival
of the Gros Ventres that their chief, whose name was “Sitting Woman,”
called the Crows and whites together and had a council. Addressing the
Crows, he said: “The Crows and the Gros Ventres have made peace with
each other. That is good. The Crows and Gros Ventres smoke together.
That is good. The Crows and Gros Ventres make presents to each other.
That is good. The Crows and Gros Ventres trade horses with one another,
and that is good. But these white men are our white men; the goods that
are in their wagons are goods that they are bringing to trade with us.
If you are going to fight these white men you must fight us.” Not a
word was spoken by the Crows, and they left in small groups of three
or four at a time, badly disappointed and without a cent’s worth of
goods. The Gros Ventres escorted our train the balance of the day and
camped with us that night, and traveled with us until we reached their
camp the next day at Wolfe Point. And, after that, the whole camp came
with us for over one hundred miles up the valley of the Milk river. Mr.
Dawson paid them well for their kindness by giving them goods.
Between Milk river and Fort Benton we met many of the Piegans, Bloods
and Blackfeet Indians; many of them followed us to Fort Benton, for
they were anxious to trade with us. From this time on the Indian trade
increased very rapidly, and new steamers were built to operate on the
upper Missouri, consequently the company established several trading
posts at different points, and more employes were sent from St. Louis.
[Illustration: WOLF VOICE (GROS VENTRES.)]
I well remember when the steamer “Gray Eagle” made her first trip with
my friend John Largent on board, who now lives at the town of Sun
River. He, too, left St. Louis after having hired to the American Fur
company to work at Fort Benton. At this time I was in charge of several
men repairing the outside wall of the fort, which was built with
sun-dried bricks, or “adobes.” One day Largent was on top of the wall
laying brick; suddenly he came down, saying that someone was shooting
at him. I asked him if he was not mistaken; he said he was not, but
that he would go and try it again. He was not there but a few seconds
before he came down again saying that a bullet whistled by his head.
As I was anxious to have the wall finished that day, I went up myself,
but I was not there more than a minute before a rifle shot struck the
brick that was in my hand, and I also came down on the double quick.
Some Indians were doing the shooting from under the bank of the river,
about two hundred yards off. In 1864 I went to the mines. In 1865 I
formed a partnership with Malcolm Clark and obtained a charter to build
a toll-wagon road through the Prickly Pear canyon, which charter we
afterwards sold to James King and W. C. Gillette.
In 1868 I located this place where I now live, and where I intend to
stay the balance of my life.
Mr. Lewis told me of many adventures he had during the time he was
in the employ of the American Fur company, of which I have made no
mention. Fort Benton at one time was the greatest fur trading point in
the Northwest, but, as the whites came and settled the country, the
buffaloes and all fur-bearing animals disappeared like chaff before a
hurricane, and now the fur trade at Fort Benton amounts to but a trifle.
ROBERT VAUGHN.
Sept. 12, 1899.
A BRAVE PIEGAN WAR CHIEF.
At the time of my visit to the home of Mr. Edward A. Lewis, an account
of which is given in the foregoing letter, Mr. Lewis asked his wife,
who was at the time busy with her house work, to come to the room in
which we were sitting and tell me of the fight that occurred between
the Piegans and a party of Pend d’Oreilles Indians in 1868, and in
which her father was engaged. She said that the Piegans were in camp
on the Teton river, about eight miles above where now stands the town
of Choteau, when the Pend d’Oreilles came and made a sudden attack
on the Piegans and stole several of their horses. A desperate fight
followed, both parties using guns, bows and arrows, and war clubs; many
were killed on both sides. She said that her father was struck with a
war club by a Pend d’Oreille; thinking he was dead, the Pend d’Oreille
in a hurry undertook to take the rings her father had on three of his
fingers. Failing to slip the rings off, he jerked a large bowie knife
out of a scabbard and chopped off the fingers. During all this time her
father was unconscious, and it was after the fingers were cut off that
he came to his senses. Many of the Indians believed that the cutting
of the fingers was the cause of his coming to life again. The women
dressed his wounds and the next day the plucky war chief, Meek-i-appy,
with a party of his warriors, followed the Pend d’Oreilles and the
following night recaptured the horses and returned home without firing
a gun or a shot from a bow.
[Illustration: From Painting by C. M. Russell.
THE PIEGANS LAYING THEIR PLANS TO STEAL HORSES FROM THE CROWS.]
Meek-i-appy has been dead for several years. I knew him well. He was
known among the whites as Cut-Hand, but I was never aware how it
came about that he lost his fingers until this narrative was told
by his daughter. She told me of another instance in which her father
was one of the principal actors. This time--I relate the story as
it was told to me--the Crows had been stealing some of the Piegan
horses. Determined to play even, a war party of Piegans, of which Mrs.
Lewis’ father was the chief, prepared themselves to go to the Crow
country. Each warrior was equipped with all that was necessary for a
horse-stealing expedition. Those who did not have guns had perfect
bows, and their quivers were filled with well-pointed arrows, and the
chief had with him his medicine bag, which was a weasel skin stuffed
with some herbs and the bark of a certain tree; to this medicine bag
two small bells were attached; it was carried on the breast and tied to
a string of beads worn around the neck. It was sometime after entering
the Crow country before they could locate an enemy. Finally a camp of
about ten lodges was discovered in a small valley between high hills in
the Little Snowy mountains, the slopes of which were covered with pine.
The Piegans worked their way cautiously through the woods until within
a short distance of the Crow camp and there lay hidden the balance
of the day, making their plans to get away with the horses that were
grazing near the tepees. When night came they again began approaching
nearer and nearer the camp of the Crows. After getting to the proper
distance, which was about three hundred yards from the tepees, they
halted and waited until they were satisfied that all the Crows were
asleep. The Crows had their horses close to their tepees and many of
them were picketed. The chief was to do the stealing and mount all of
his warriors with the stolen horses, for he was considered the bravest
and most expert performer in the party. The chief placed his warriors
behind a small grove of willows that were thick with underbrush. Then
he tied several long strings of rawhide together; this he attached to
a bush in the center of the grove and on the same bush he hung his
medicine pouch; then he stretched the rawhide, which was about sixty
yards long, to the extreme edge of the grove and most remote from the
Crow camp. Now everything was ready, and the time for the fray had
arrived. The warriors stood behind the bushes to receive the stolen
horses, and the chief sneaked towards the horses with the lariats
in his hands. The first haul that was made he brought three horses,
and repeated this until he had a horse for each of his warriors, who
mounted and drove away the balance of the herd. Not satisfied with all
the horses, Meek-i-appy determined to steal the Crow chief’s medicine
pouch (to steal the medicine pouch from the chief of the enemy is
considered the bravest act a warrior can perform). Knowing the chief’s
tepee, and knowing that, according to Indian custom, all chiefs hang
their medicine pouches above their heads before going to sleep, again
the Piegan leader crawled slowly but surely toward the tepee of the
head man of the Crow camp and stole his way inside. The Crow chief was
sound asleep. When retiring only a few hours before, and when wrapping
himself in his gorgeous robes, he never thought or dreamed that there
was an enemy anywhere near. The Piegan reached out his hand and took
the trophy that hung on a tripoon and near the sleeping chief’s head;
he placed it under his belt and was quietly retreating when he stumbled
and fell as he was getting out at the door of the lodge. This waked
the Crow and he gave the signal war whoop, “enemy in the camp.” All the
Crow warriors were out in an instant and came very near capturing the
Piegan, but he got into the brush, where he had placed his medicine
pouch, only by a scratch. In a few minutes the willow grove was
surrounded by the Crows and they all began shooting into the brush. It
may be well to state here that an Indian never follows an enemy into a
thick brush, especially in the night time.
[Illustration: From Painting by C. M. Russell.
GOING HOME WITH THE STOLEN HORSES.]
The Piegan by this time had hold of the rawhide string; he gave it a
few jerks and the bells that were attached to the medicine pouch rang.
This drew the attention of the Crows that way, and thinking that the
Piegan must be there, they all began shooting in the direction of the
bells, and the more they shot the oftener the bells would ring. The
firing was so rapid and the flashing of the old flint-lock guns was so
blinding to the Crows that the Piegan killed three of them. They could
not tell the direction the shots came from, still, after they ceased
firing, the Piegan, who was at the other end of the string, would
occasionally ring the bells. Finally all the Crows stood together near
the brush, and opposite to where the bells were ringing, and asked
several questions as to who was ringing the bells. One asked in a loud
voice: “Are you a man or are you a ghost?” In reply the bells rang
three times. Finally the Crows, who are a very superstitious people
as a tribe, went away convinced that they had killed the Piegan, and
that his ghost was ringing the bells. And Meek-i-appy came out of the
willows without harm, and, with the medicine bag, which proved to
be good medicine, also with that of the Crow chief which was a bad
medicine to its first possessor. Soon the Piegan war chief was with his
warriors, who were waiting for him in a coulee that was not far off.
He was mounted on the best horse and the one the Crow chief was riding
the day before. After a ride of over one hundred miles in one day and
a night, Meek-i-appy and his warriors arrived home safe with all their
spoils.
The warrior who displayed the greatest strength, good generalship and
bravery, was elected or appointed by the head chief to the honor of
war chief. On account of the prudence, bravery and good generalship
Meek-i-appy had always displayed, he was elected war chief and was such
at the time of his death, which was about 1878.
ROBERT VAUGHN.
Sept. 22, 1899.
BLOODY BATTLES AND TRAGEDIES IN THE SUN RIVER VALLEY.
The first printed records of the Sun river we find in the travels of
Lewis and Clark, who, on June 14, 1805, viewed the lower part of this
fertile valley, from the bluffs near the upper falls of the Missouri
river. And Captain Lewis, on his way back from the Pacific slope, came
down the Medicine river valley and praised its beauty and the purity of
the waters in its streams.
The Sun river was then termed by the Indians the Medicine river. The
valley is sixty-five miles long. Its course is nearly east and west,
extending from the Missouri river to the base of the Rocky mountains,
while the river itself is twice that many miles, extending far into
the mountains. On the south side the bench and tablelands, that are
carpeted with luxurious grasses, extend for many miles; while on the
north the same kind of landscape reaches to the British possessions, a
distance of nearly 150 miles. The few old Indians that are now living
admit that the Rosebud and the Sun river regions have always been their
favorite hunting grounds; where game of all kinds was plentiful, summer
and winter alike. And today the same ranges are the most favored by the
herdsmen to graze their flocks and herds of domestic animals. It was
no wonder that the Indians fought desperately before giving up this,
“their favorite hunting grounds.”
The first thirty years of the last half century the Sun river, Teton
and Marias valleys were a great field for trappers and traders
belonging to the various fur trading companies, who, to a certain
extent, like our traveling men now-a-days, were soliciting trade for
their respective companies; consequently, many Indians would collect
at the same locality, bringing with them skins of different kinds,
buffalo robes, and other trinkets; these articles they exchanged for
Indian goods from the traders. These valleys had always been the home
of the Blackfeet nation, of which the Piegan tribe was one of the most
powerful.
The beautiful and fertile valley of the Sun river has been the scene
of many tragedies and bloody battles between Indians of different
tribes. On account of the shallow ford on the Missouri river, on the
east, giving the Crows easy access to the lower end of the valley, and
the Cadotte and Priest passes, in the main range of the Rockies on the
west, through which the Flatheads, Pend d’Oreilles and other warlike
tribes of the Pacific slope entered the upper end, the Blackfeet tribes
were always prepared for war.
The following story was written by Father De Smet, the great Indian
missionary, and who, I think, was the first to preach christianity
in what is now the state of Montana. Besides showing his success as
a missionary, it also shows the warlike character of the Blackfeet.
Father De Smet says:
[Illustration: FATHER DE SMET.
The first man who preached Christianity in what is now Montana.]
“In 1840 I visited the Blackfeet Indians, who, though they are a very
warlike tribe, received me with a kind welcome. On this occasion I gave
them a crucifix, merely explaining to them who Christ is, and how He
died on the cross for them, to bring them to heaven with Himself. Again
I paid them a visit in 1855, when I was still more warmly received and
welcomed; in fact, with every mark of affection. This greatly surprised
me, and I was going to ask the cause of it, when I was invited to a
council of all the warriors of the tribe. I went and soon found myself
in the presence of their great men, and of the chieftain himself, who
wore on his breast the crucifix I had given him years before. When I
was seated, you may guess my surprise and delight when he began his
harangue to me by begging me to send them black-gowns to teach them
the way to heaven. ‘Black-gown,’ said he, ‘we know that what you teach
us is true;’ and when I asked what had brought this conviction to their
minds, he told the following fact: ‘Three snows ago, Black-gown,’ said
he, ‘I and my warriors, thirty in all, went on the warpath against the
Crow Indians, our enemies, and we entered their territory. We knew
that the moment we entered their land we were beset with dangers,
and therefore we took every precaution to prevent our track being
discovered. Besides, when we camped for the night we built up a kind of
fortress of dead wood to protect us, in case of a surprise, from their
shots and arrows. Spite of all our care, the Crow Indians discovered
our trail, and during the dead of night surrounded us with a body very
much larger than ours, and then raised their wild warcry. We who were
within the enclosure, giving ourselves up for lost, began to sing
our death song, when I bethought myself of the crucifix which you,
Black-gown, gave me, and of the words you said. I saw there was no hope
but in it. Then I addressed my fellow warriors, and I said to them:
‘Trust in Him who died on the cross for us!’ and taking the crucifix I
held it aloft in my hands and prayed to the Great Spirit to save us. I
then kissed the crucifix and placed it on my head, and rubbed it over
my arms and breast, and gave it to my companions. They all did the
same. I took the crucifix in my hand and held it before me and told
them all to follow. I burst through the palisade, right in the midst
of the enemy, followed by all. Shots and arrows flew about us in every
direction, yet, Black-gown, owing to the power of Him whom we invoked,
we passed through unscathed, not even one of us being hurt. From that
moment we all longed to see the black-gown again.’”
Some time in the early fifties a bloody and desperate battle was
fought between the Blackfeet and Crows which decimated both tribes,
nearly half of the braves on each side being killed. Some of the
fortifications that were built by the Crows then are still visible.
An account of this bloody encounter was given by Little Plume, a Piegan
chief, to three old frontiersmen of the Sun river valley, James Gibson,
Judge Burcher and S. M. Carson, who at the time was on the staff of the
_Sun River Sun_, and in which paper the story was published December
25, 1884.
The chief says: “When I was a boy and had not yet gained a name for
myself in the annals of war, I was a witness to one of the hardest
fought battles ever waged in this valley. The chief of the Piegans and
a small party of his followers were encamped on the river near the
mountains, when one morning a deputation of Crows came in, praying
that a council be made, saying that they were tired of war and wished
to make a treaty that would insure peace between them for all time to
come. To the council the chief readily consented, and stated that on
the morrow everything would be in readiness to receive the Crow chief,
as their head men were not so far away but that they could be summoned
by that time. When the morrow came, the Crows and Piegans feasted
together for the first, and, as it proved to be, for the last time.
The council had proceeded without even so much as a sign of hostility
in the past, and as to the course to be pursued in the future, it
was to be one that would make the Crows and Blackfeet as one nation.
Everything had progressed to the satisfaction of all. The council had
adjourned to give place to feasting and dancing during the night, and
to give time so that Skoon-a-taps-e-guan, a medicine man who had not
arrived, might be present at the final agreement. The feasting had
been one round of pleasure from the first, and much good will had been
shown by both parties. Still the feast went on and “The Strong Man” had
not arrived. A few more stragglers from the Crow camp farther down the
valley now and then dropped in.
“With the assistance of a dog, the prying eyes of a Piegan woman found
among a bundle of moccasins that had been hidden in the snow a fresh
scalp, which, on closer inspection, proved to be that of a Piegan.
Fearing to cry out, lest they should but give the signal for a general
massacre, they quietly informed their chief of what they had found,
and the chief as wisely said nothing, but after a little he quietly
went out from the lodge, and, to his astonishment, he saw dangling
from the neck of a Crow the identical burning glass (sun glass) with
which the ‘Strong Man’ was wont to light his pipe. He knew then that
Skoon-a-taps-e-guan would never give his consent to a treaty of peace
with the Crows. Going back to the council, he told the Crows that
it would be impossible for him or his people to sign the treaty of
peace until the “Strong Man” had given his consent, and further, that
until such consent was given they would be considered enemies. Having
thus delivered himself, he walked out, being followed by several of
the leading men of both tribes, who inquired his reason for thus
breaking up the council. His only answer was to the Crows, whom he
told to go to their camp and prepare for war. The council having been
thus suddenly broken up by the Piegan chief, it was deemed by the
Crows necessary to put as great a distance between the two camps as
possible. They therefore hastily moved their camp down to the breaks,
some fifteen miles above where the village of Sun River now stands.
Here they threw up fortifications and prepared to meet the Piegans if
pursued. The Piegans, on the other hand, sent runners to the different
camps, informing them of the murder of their medicine man and of the
turn affairs had taken. By the time night came on the peaceful camp
was broken by the hurrying tramp of over a thousand war horses, each
carrying upon his back the sworn enemy of the Crows. The particulars of
the murder of Skoon-a-taps-e-guan had been learned by several of the
outside camps about the same time the chief discovered it. It seemed
that the “Strong Man” had received the summons and had immediately set
forth, accompanied by his assistant, and when within a few miles of
their destination they were suddenly attacked from behind whilst in the
act of lighting their pipes. The “Strong Man” received his death wound
from the first blow, but his companion was only stunned, from which
he recovered in time to see the murderous Crows hastily making off
with the scalp of his leader dangling from the saddle bow of a young
brave. Knowing that to stir or show any signs of life would be to bring
sudden death, he lay quiet for a long time, not even daring to raise
his hand to his aching head, from which the scalp had just been torn.
After lying in this position for a considerable time, he raised himself
to a sitting posture, from which he cautiously took in the situation,
and seeing no signs of the Crows, he immediately made off as fast as
his legs could carry him. Having arrived at the camp from which he and
his companion had so hopefully started in the morning, he told of the
tragedy in as few words as possible, and then fell exhausted on the
floor of the lodge. Runners were immediately sent to all the outlying
camps, informing them of what had happened, and ordering them to at
once repair to the camp of their chief. So rapidly does news travel
in an Indian country, that before darkness came on, several hundred
warriors were with their chief, as before stated.
[Illustration: LITTLE PLUME (Piegan Chief).]
“On the morrow the Piegan forces were largely augmented by these new
arrivals and the chief deemed it best to immediately move against the
Crows, who were reported by the scouts as being intrenched at what were
then called the “Breaks.” Every preparation having been made, the whole
force moved forward in one vast column. Soon they fell in with the
Crows and drove their outposts into their trenches, and then commenced
one of the most bloody battles ever fought between two nations having
a red skin. The Piegans, after fighting all that day and night, finally
succeeded in dislodging the enemy, who, early in the morning, began
to move off down the valley. After resting until evening, they again
started in pursuit, and overtook the Crows at what the white men now
call the “Middle Bridge,” which is about two miles below the town of
Sun River. Here, if you remember, a high point of bluff puts in close
to the river, affording great defensive advantages. This is where the
Crows made their second stand. Bright and early on the morning of the
third day, the Piegans moved forward, and, against the most fearful
odds, succeeded, just as night was coming on, in driving the Crows
out of their intrenchments; but, owing to the peculiar formation of
the bluffs at this point, it was of no great advantage, as the ground
immediately beyond was as well adapted to defense as that just lost.
“The Crows had again intrenched themselves, and when morning came,
yells of defiance answered the taunts of the Blackfeet. Both parties
had received such reinforcements that the combatants numbered 5,000 on
either side, each bent on the extermination of the other; and so near
did they accomplish this, that when the fight was over five hundred
Piegan warriors marked the spot where the fight was made. For two days
the fight continued, the Crows yielding but a little at a time. They
seemed to still have some hope of victory, but fate was against them.
Just across the river from where is now Robert Vaughn’s place, they
made their last stand. Here the hardest fighting was done, and when the
last charge was made by the Blackfeet the ground was literally piled
with killed and wounded of both tribes. The Piegans were so crippled by
the continuous battle that when the Crows broke from their cover and
retreated down the river and across the Missouri, they were satisfied
and made no effort at further pursuit. Although,” said Little Plume,
“it took the Blackfeet nation over twenty years to recover their
strength, Skoon-a-taps-e-guan was only partially avenged. As long as
there remains a Crow and Piegan, so long will there be war. When the
last Crow shall have been killed, then, and not till then, will the
‘Strong Man’ be avenged.”
Little Plume was one of the chiefs who were friendly to the whites.