prosperous one to us. At daylight Provost and Alexis went off hunting
across the river. Immediately after an early breakfast, Mr. Murray and
three Mackinaw boats started for St. Louis. After the boats were fairly
out of sight, and the six-pounders had been twice fired, and the great
flag floated in the stiff southwesterly breeze, four other hunters went
off over the river, and Squires was one of them. I took a walk with Mr.
Culbertson and Mr. Chardon, to look at some old, decaying, and simply
constructed coffins, placed on trees about ten feet above ground, for
the purpose of finding out in what manner, and when it would be best for
us to take away the skulls, some six or seven in number, all Assiniboin
Indians. It was decided that we would do so at dusk, or nearly at dark.
My two companions assured me that they never had walked so far from the
fort unarmed as on this occasion, and said that even a _single_ Indian
with a gun and a bow might have attacked us; but if several were
together, they would pay no attention to us, as that might be construed
to mean war. This is a good lesson, however, and one I shall not forget.
About ten o'clock Alexis came to me and said that he had killed two male
Antelopes, and Provost one Deer, and that he must have a cart to bring
the whole in. This was arranged in a few minutes; and Harris and I went
across the river on a ferry flat, taking with us a cart and a most
excellent mule. Alexis' wife went across also to gather gooseberries.
The cart being made ready, we mounted it, I sitting down, and Harris
standing up. We took an old abandoned road, filled with fallen timber
and bushes innumerable; but Alexis proved to be an excellent driver, and
the mule the most active and the strongest I ever saw. We jogged on
through thick and thin for about two miles, when we reached a prairie
covered with large bushes of Artemisia (called here "Herbe Sainte"), and
presently, cutting down a slope, came to where lay our Antelope, a young
male, and the skin of the Deer, while its carcass hung on a tree. These
were placed in the cart, and we proceeded across the prairie for the
other Antelope, which had been tied by the horns to a large bush of
Artemisia, being alive when Alexis left it; but it was now dead and
stiff. I looked at its eyes at once. This was a fine old male with its
coat half shed. I was sorry enough it was dead. We placed it by its
relation in the cart, jumped in, and off we went at a good round trot,
not returning to the road, but across the prairie and immediately under
the clay hills where the Antelope go after they have fed in the prairie
below from early dawn until about eight o'clock; there are of course
exceptions to the contrary. Part of the way we travelled between ponds
made by the melting of the snows, and having on them a few Ducks and a
Black Tern, all of which no doubt breed here. After we had passed the
last pond, we saw three Antelopes several hundred yards to the lee of
us; the moment they perceived us Alexis said they would be off; and so
they were, scampering towards the hills until out of sight. We now
entered the woods, and almost immediately Harris saw the head of a Deer
about fifty yards distant. Alexis, who had only a rifle, would have shot
him from the cart, had the mule stood still; but as this was not the
case, Alexis jumped down, took a long, deliberate aim, the gun went off,
and the Deer fell dead in its tracks. It proved to be a doe with very
large milk-bags, and doubtless her fawn or fawns were in the vicinity;
but Alexis could not find them in the dense bush. He and Harris dragged
her to the cart, where I stood holding the mule. We reached the ferry,
where the boat had awaited our return, placed the cart on board without
touching the game; and, on landing at the fort, the good mule pulled it
up the steep bank into the yard. We now had two Antelopes and two Deer
that had been killed before noon. Immediately after dinner, the head of
the old male was cut off, and I went to work outlining it; first small,
with the camera, and then by squares. Bell was engaged in skinning both
the bodies; but I felt vexed that he had carelessly suffered the Gray
Wolf to be thrown into the river. I spoke to him on the subject of never
losing a specimen till we were quite sure it would not be needed; and I
feel well assured he is so honest a man and so good a worker that what I
said will last for all time. While looking at the Deer shot this day,
Harris and I thought that their tails were very long, and that the
animals themselves were very much larger than those we have to the
eastward; and we all concluded to have more killed, and examine and
measure closely, as this one may be an exception. It was unfortunate we
did not speak of this an hour sooner, as two Deer had been killed on
this side the river by a hunter belonging to the fort; but Mr.
Culbertson assured me that we should have enough of them in a few days.
I am told that the Rocky Mountain Rams lost most of their young during
the hard frosts of the early spring; for, like those of the common
sheep, the lambs are born as early as the 1st of March, and hence their
comparative scarcity. Harris and Bell have shot a handsome White Wolf, a
female, from the ramparts; having both fired together, it is not known
which shot was the fatal one. Bell wounded another in the leg, as there
were several marauders about; but the rascal made off.
_June 19, Monday._ It began raining early this morning; by "early," I
mean fully two hours before daylight. The first news I heard was from
Mr. Chardon, who told me he had left a Wolf feeding out of the pig's
trough, which is immediately under the side of the fort. The next was
from Mr. Larpenteur,[20] who opens the gates when the bell rings at
sunrise, who told us he saw seven Wolves within thirty yards, or less,
of the fort. I have told him since, with Mr. Chardon's permission, to
call upon us before he opens these mighty portals, whenever he espies
Wolves from the gallery above, and I hope that to-morrow morning we may
shoot one or more of these bold marauders. Sprague has been drawing all
day, and I a good part of it; and it has been so chilly and cold that we
have had fires in several parts of the fort. Bell and Harris have gone
shooting this afternoon, and have not yet returned. Bell cleaned the
Wolf shot last night, and the two Antelopes; old Provost boiled brine,
and the whole of them are now in pickle. There are some notions that two
kinds of Deer are found hereabouts, one quite small, the other quite
large; but of this I have no proof at present. The weather was too bad
for Alexis to go hunting. Young Mr. McKenzie and a companion went across
the river, but returned soon afterwards, having seen nothing but one
Grizzly Bear. The water is either at a stand, or falling a
little.--_Later_. Harris and Bell have returned, and, to my delight and
utter astonishment, have brought two new birds: one a Lark,[21] small
and beautiful; the other like our common Golden-winged Woodpecker, but
with a red mark instead of a black one along the lower mandible running
backward.[22] I am quite amazed at the differences of opinion
respecting the shedding--or not shedding--of the horns of the
Antelope;[23] and this must be looked to with the greatest severity, for
if these animals _do_ shed their horns, they are no longer _Antelopes_.
We are about having quite a ball in honor of Mr. Chardon, who leaves
shortly for the Blackfoot Fort.
_June 20, Tuesday._ It rained nearly all night; and though the ball was
given, I saw nothing of it, and heard but little, for I went to bed and
to sleep. Sprague finished the drawing of the old male Antelope, and I
mine, taking besides the measurements, etc., which I give here.... Bell
has skinned the head and put it in pickle. The weather was bad, yet old
Provost, Alexis, and Mr. Bonaventure, a good hunter and a first-rate
shot, went over the river to hunt. They returned, however, without
anything, though they saw three or four Deer, and a Wolf almost black,
with very long hair, which Provost followed for more than a mile, but
uselessly, as the rascal outwitted him after all. Harris and Bell are
gone too, and I hope they will bring some more specimens of Sprague's
Lark and the new Golden-winged Woodpecker.
To fill the time on this dreary day, I asked Mr. Chardon to come up to
our room and give us an account of the small-pox among the Indians,
especially among the Mandans and Riccarees, and he related as follows:
Early in the month of July, 1837, the steamer "Assiniboin" arrived at
Fort Clark with many cases of small-pox on board. Mr. Chardon, having a
young son on the boat, went thirty miles to meet her, and took his son
away. The pestilence, however, had many victims on the steamboat, and
seemed destined to find many more among the helpless tribes of the
wilderness. An Indian stole the blanket of one of the steamboat's
watchmen (who lay at the point of death, if not already dead), wrapped
himself in it, and carried it off, unaware of the disease that was to
cost him his life, and that of many of his tribe--thousands, indeed. Mr.
Chardon offered a reward immediately for the return of the blanket, as
well as a new one in its stead, and promised that no punishment should
be inflicted. But the robber was a great chief; through shame, or some
other motive, he never came forward, and, before many days, was a
corpse. Most of the Riccarees and Mandans were some eighty miles in the
prairies, hunting Buffaloes and saving meat for the winter. Mr. Chardon
despatched an express to acquaint them all of the awful calamity,
enjoining them to keep far off, for that death would await them in their
villages. They sent word in return, that their corn was suffering for
want of work, that they were not afraid, and would return; the danger to
them, poor things, seemed fabulous, and doubtless they thought other
reasons existed, for which this was an excuse. Mr. Chardon sent the man
back again, and told them their crop of corn was nothing compared to
their lives; but Indians are Indians, and, in spite of all entreaties,
they moved _en masse_, to confront the awful catastrophe that was about
to follow. When they reached the villages, they thought the whites had
saved the Riccarees, and put the plague on them alone (they were
Mandans). Moreover, they thought, and said, that the whites had a
preventive medicine, which the whites would not give them. Again and
again it was explained to them that this was not the case, but all to no
purpose; the small-pox had taken such a hold upon the poor Indians, and
in such malignant form, that they died oftentimes within the rising and
setting of a day's sun. They died by hundreds daily; their bodies were
thrown down beneath the high bluff, and soon produced a stench beyond
description. Men shot their wives and children, and afterwards, driving
several balls in their guns, would place the muzzle in their mouths,
and, touching the trigger with their feet, blow their brains out. About
this time Mr. Chardon was informed that one of the young Mandan chiefs
was bent on shooting him, believing he had brought the pestilence upon
the Indians. One of Mr. Chardon's clerks heard of this plot, and begged
him to remain in the store; at first Mr. Chardon did not place any faith
in the tale, but later was compelled to do so, and followed his clerk's
advice. The young chief, a short time afterwards, fell a victim to this
fearful malady; but probably others would have taken his life had it not
been for one of those strange incidents which come, we know not why, nor
can we explain them. A number of the chiefs came that day to confer with
Mr. Chardon, and while they were talking angrily with him, he sitting
with his arms on a table between them, a Dove, being pursued by a Hawk,
flew in through the open door, and sat panting and worn out on Mr.
Chardon's arm for more than a minute, when it flew off. The Indians, who
were quite numerous, clustered about him, and asked him what the bird
came to him for? After a moment's thought, he told them that the bird
had been sent by the white men, his friends, to see if it was true that
the Mandans had killed him, and that it must return with the answer as
soon as possible; he added he had told the Dove to say that the Mandans
were his friends, and would never kill him, but would do all they could
for him. The superstitious redmen believed this story implicitly;
thenceforth they looked on Mr. Chardon as one of the Great Spirit's
sons, and believed he alone could help them. Little, however, could be
done; the small-pox continued its fearful ravages, and the Indians grew
fewer and fewer day by day. For a long time the Riccarees did not
suffer; the Mandans became more and more astounded at this, and became
exasperated against both whites and Indians. The disease was of the most
virulent type, so that within a few hours after death the bodies were a
mass of rottenness. Men killed themselves, to die a nobler death than
that brought by the dreaded plague. One young warrior sent his wife to
dig his grave; and she went, of course, for no Indian woman dares
disobey her lord. The grave was dug, and the warrior, dressed in his
most superb apparel, with lance and shield in hand, walked towards it
singing his own death song, and, finding the grave finished, threw down
all his garments and arms, and leaped into it, drawing his knife as he
did so, and cutting his body almost asunder. This done, the earth was
thrown over him, the grave filled up, and the woman returned to her
lodge to live with her children, perhaps only another day. A great
chief, who had been a constant friend to the whites, having caught the
pest, and being almost at the last extremity, dressed himself in his
fineries, mounted his war-steed, and, fevered and in agony, rode among
the villages, speaking against the whites, urging the young warriors to
charge upon them and destroy them all. The harangue over, he went home,
and died not many hours afterward. The exposure and exertion brought on
great pains, and one of the men from the fort went to him with something
that gave him temporary relief; before he died, he acknowledged his
error in trying to create trouble between the whites and Indians, and it
was his wish to be buried in front of the gate of the fort, with all his
trophies around and above his body; the promise was given him that this
should be done, and he died in the belief that the white man, as he trod
on his grave, would see that he was humbled before him, and would
forgive him. Two young men, just sickening with the disease, began to
talk of the dreadful death that awaited them, and resolved not to wait
for the natural close of the malady, the effects of which they had seen
among their friends and relatives. One said the knife was the surest and
swiftest weapon to carry into effect their proposed self-destruction;
the other contended that placing an arrow in the throat and forcing it
into the lungs was preferable. After a long debate they calmly rose, and
each adopted his own method; in an instant the knife was driven into the
heart of one, the arrow into the throat of the other, and they fell dead
almost at the same instant. Another story was of an extremely handsome
and powerful Indian who lost an only son, a beautiful boy, upon whom all
his hopes and affections were placed. The loss proved too much for him;
he called his wife, and, after telling her what a faithful husband he
had been, said to her, "Why should we live? all we cared for is taken
from us, and why not at once join our child in the land of the Great
Spirit?" She consented; in an instant he shot her dead on the spot,
reloaded his gun, put the muzzle in his mouth, touched the trigger, and
fell back dead. On the same day another curious incident occurred; a
young man, covered with the eruption, and apparently on the eve of
death, managed to get to a deep puddle of mire or mud, threw himself in
it, and rolled over and over as a Buffalo is wont to do. The sun was
scorching hot, and the poor fellow got out of the mire covered with a
coating of clay fully half an inch thick and laid himself down; the
sun's heat soon dried the clay, so as to render it like unburnt bricks,
and as he walked or crawled along towards the village, the mud drying
and falling from him, taking the skin with it, and leaving the flesh raw
and bleeding, he was in agony, and besought those who passed to kill
him; but, strange to say, after enduring tortures, the fever left him,
he recovered, and is still living, though badly scarred. Many ran to the
river, in the delirium of the burning fever, plunged in the stream, and
rose no more. The whites in the fort, as well as the Riccarees, took the
disease after all. The Indians, with few exceptions, died, and three of
the whites. The latter had no food in the way of bread, flour, sugar, or
coffee, and they had to go stealthily by night to steal small pumpkins,
about the size of a man's fist, to subsist upon--and this amid a large
number of wild, raving, mad Indians, who swore revenge against them all
the while. This is a mere sketch of the terrible scourge which virtually
annihilated two powerful tribes of Indians, and of the trials of the
traders attached to the Fur Companies on these wild prairies, and I can
tell you of many more equally strange. The mortality, as taken down by
Major Mitchell, was estimated by that gentleman at 150,000 Indians,
including those from the tribes of the Riccarees, Mandans, Sioux, and
Blackfeet. The small-pox was in the very fort from which I am now
writing this account, and its ravages here were as awful as elsewhere.
Mr. Chardon had the disease, and was left for dead; but one of his
clerks saw signs of life, and forced him to drink a quantity of hot
whiskey mixed with water and nutmeg; he fell into a sound sleep, and his
recovery began from that hour. He says that with him the pains began in
the small of the back, and on the back part of his head, and were
intense. He concluded by assuring us all that the small-pox had never
been known in the civilized world, as it had been among the poor Mandans
and other Indians. Only _twenty-seven_ Mandans were left to tell the
tale; they have now augmented to ten or twelve lodges in the six years
that have nearly elapsed since the pestilence.[24]
Harris and Bell came back bringing several small birds, among which
three or four proved to be a Blackbird[25] nearly allied to the Rusty
Grakle, but with evidently a much shorter and straighter bill. Its
measurements will be given, of course. The weather is still lowering and
cold, and it rains at intervals. We are now out of specimens of
quadrupeds to draw from. Our gentlemen seem to remember the ball of last
night, and I doubt not will go early to bed, as I shall.
_June 21, Wednesday._ Cloudy and lowering weather; however, Provost went
off over the river, before daylight, and shot a Deer, of what kind we do
not know; he returned about noon, very hungry. The mud was dreadful in
the bottoms. Bell and young McKenzie went off after breakfast, but
brought nothing but a Sharp-tailed Grouse, though McKenzie shot two
Wolves. The one Harris shot last night proved to be an old female not
worth keeping; her companions had seamed her jaws, for in this part of
the world Wolves feed upon Wolves, and no mistake. This evening I hauled
the beast under the ramparts, cut her body open, and had a stake driven
quite fast through it, to hold it as a bait. Harris and Bell are this
moment on the lookout for the rascals. Wolves here not only eat their
own kind, but are the most mischievous animals in the country; they eat
the young Buffalo calves, the young Antelopes, and the young of the
Bighorn on all occasions, besides Hares of different sorts, etc.
Buffaloes never scrape the snow with their feet, but with their noses,
notwithstanding all that has been said to the contrary, even by Mr.
Catlin. Bell brought home the hind parts, the head, and one forefoot of
a new species of small Hare.[26]
We are told these Hares are very plentiful, and yet this is the first
specimen we have seen, and sorry am I that it amounts to no specimen at
all. Harris and I walked several miles, but killed nothing; we found the
nest of a Sparrow-hawk, and Harris, assisted by my shoulders, reached
the nest, and drew out two eggs. Sprague went across the hills eastward,
and was fortunate enough to shoot a superb specimen of the Arctic
Bluebird. This evening, Mr. Culbertson having told me the Rabbits, such
as Bell had brought, were plentiful on the road to the steamboat
landing, Harris, Bell, and I walked there; but although we were very
cautious, we saw none, and only procured a Black-headed Grosbeak, which
was shot whilst singing delightfully. To-morrow morning Mr. Chardon
leaves us in the keel-boat for the Blackfoot Fort, and Mr. Kipp will
leave for the Crows early next week.
_June 22, Thursday._ We rose very late this morning, with the exception
of Provost, who went out shooting quite early; but he saw nothing fit
for his rifle. All was bustle after breakfast, as Mr. Chardon's boat was
loading, the rigging being put in order, the men moving their effects,
etc., and a number of squaws, the wives of the men, were moving to and
fro for hours before the ultimate departure of the boat, which is called
the "Bee." The cargo being arranged, thirty men went on board, including
the commander, friend Chardon, thirteen squaws, and a number of
children, all more or less half-breeds. The flag of Fort Union was
hoisted, the four-pounder run out of the front gate, and by eleven
o'clock all was ready. The keel-boat had a brass swivel on her bows, and
fired first, then off went the larger gun, and many an Antelope and Deer
were doubtless frightened at the report that echoed through the hills
far and near. We bid adieu to our good friend Chardon; and his numerous
and willing crew, taking the cordelle to their shoulders, moved the boat
against a strong current in good style. Harris and Bell had gone
shooting and returned with several birds, among which was a female
Red-patched Woodpecker,[27] and a Lazuli Finch. Dinner over, I went off
with young McKenzie after Hares; found none, but started a Grizzly Bear
from her lair. Owen McKenzie followed the Bear and I continued after
Hares; he saw no more of Bruin, and I not a Hare, and we both returned
to the fort after a tramp of three hours. As I was walking over the
prairie, I found an Indian's skull (an Assiniboin) and put it in my game
pouch. Provost made a whistle to imitate the noise made by the fawns at
this season, which is used to great advantage to decoy the female Deer;
shortly afterward Mr. Bonaventure returned, and a cart was sent off at
once to bring in a doe which he had killed below. This species of Deer
is much larger than the one we have in Virginia, but perhaps no more so
than those in Maine; and as yet we cannot tell whether it may, or may
not, prove a distinct species. We took all its measurements, and Bell
and Provost are now skinning it. Its gross weight is 140 lbs., which I
think is heavier than any doe I have seen before. The animal is very
poor and evidently has fawns in the woods. The little new Lark that I
have named after Sprague has almost all the habits of the Skylark of
Europe. Whilst looking anxiously after it, on the ground where we
supposed it to be singing, we discovered it was high over our heads, and
that sometimes it went too high for us to see it at all. We have not yet
been able to discover its nest. Bell is of opinion that the Red-collared
Ground Finch[28] has its nest in the deserted holes of the Ground
Squirrel, and we intend to investigate this. He also believes that
Say's Flycatcher builds in rocky caverns or fissures, as he found the
nest of a bird in some such place, after having wounded one of this
species, which retired into the fissures of the rock, which he examined
in pursuit of the wounded bird. The nest had no eggs; we are going to
pay it a visit. Bell was busy most of the day skinning birds, and
Sprague drew a beautiful plant. I found a number of wild roses in bloom,
quite sweet-scented, though single, and of a very pale rose-color.
_June 23, Friday._ We have had a fine, warm day. The hunters of
Buffaloes started before daylight, and Squires accompanied them; they
are not expected back till sometime to-morrow. Provost went across the
river with them, and with the assistance of his bleating whistle,
brought several does round him, and a good many Wolves. He killed two
does, drew them to a tree, and hung his coat near them while he returned
for help to bring them to the fort. The hunters have a belief that a
garment hung near game freshly killed will keep the Wolves at bay for a
time; but there are exceptions to all rules, as when he returned with
the cart, a dozen hungry rascals of Wolves had completely devoured one
doe and all but one ham of the other; this he brought to the fort. The
does at this season, on hearing the "bleat," run to the spot, supposing,
no doubt, that the Wolves have attacked their fawns, and in rushing to
the rescue, run towards the hunter, who despatches them without much
trouble, unless the woods are thickly overgrown with bushes and brush,
when more difficulty is experienced in seeing them, although one may
hear them close by; but it is a cruel, deceitful, and unsportsmanlike
method, of which I can never avail myself, and which I try to
discountenance. Bell was busy all day with skins, and Sprague with
flowers, which he delineates finely. Mr. Kipp presented me with a
complete dress of a Blackfoot warrior, ornamented with many tufts of
Indian hair from scalps, and also with a saddle. After dinner, Harris,
who felt poorly all morning, was better, and we went to pay a visit at
the Opposition fort. We started in a wagon with an old horse called
Peter, which stands fire like a stump. In going, we found we could
approach the birds with comparative ease, and we had the good fortune to
shoot three of the new Larks. I killed two, and Harris one. When this
species starts from the ground, they fly in a succession of undulations,
which renders aim at them quite difficult; after this, and in the same
manner, they elevate themselves to some considerable height, as if about
to sing, and presently pitch towards the ground, where they run
prettily, and at times stand still and quite erect for a few minutes; we
hope to discover their nests soon. Young Meadow Larks, Red-shafted
Woodpeckers, and the Red-cheeked ditto,[29] are abundant. We reached
Fort Mortimer in due time; passed first between several sulky,
half-starved looking Indians, and came to the gate, where we were
received by the "bourgeois,"[30] a young man by the name of Collins,
from Hopkinsville, Ky. We found the place in a most miserable condition,
and about to be carried away by the falling in of the banks on account
of the great rise of water in the Yellowstone, that has actually dammed
the Missouri. The current ran directly across, and the banks gave way at
such a rate that the men had been obliged already to tear up the front
of the fort and remove it to the rear. To-morrow they are to remove the
houses themselves, should they stand the coming night, which appeared to
me somewhat dubious. We saw a large athletic man who has crossed the
mountains twice to the Pacific; he is a Philadelphian, named Wallis, who
had been a cook at Fort Union four years, but who had finally deserted,
lived for a time with the Crows, and then joined the Opposition. These
persons were very polite to us, and invited us to remain and take supper
with them; but as I knew they were short of provisions, I would not
impose myself upon them, and so, with thanks for their hospitality, we
excused ourselves and returned to Fort Union. As we were in search of
birds, we saw a small, whitish-colored Wolf trotting across the prairie,
which hereabouts is very extensive and looks well, though the soil is
poor. We put Peter to a trot and gained on the Wolf, which did not see
us until we were about one hundred yards off; he stopped suddenly, and
then went off at a canter. Harris gave the whip to Peter, and off we
went, evidently gaining rapidly on the beast, when it saw an Indian in
its road; taking fright, it dashed to one side, and was soon lost in a
ravine. We congratulated ourselves, on reaching the fort, that we had
such good fortune as to be able to sup and sleep here, instead of at
Fort Mortimer. Bell had taken a walk and brought in a few birds. The
prairie is covered with cacti, and Harris and I suffered by them; my
feet were badly pricked by the thorns, which penetrated my boots at the
junction of the soles with the upper leathers. I have to-day heard
several strange stories about Grizzly Bears, all of which I must have
corroborated before I fully accept them. The Otters and Musk-rats of
this part of the country are smaller than in the States; the first is
the worst enemy that the Beaver has.