1830. The whole country lying upon the Yellowstone and its tributaries,
and about the head-waters of the Missouri, at the time of which we are
writing, abounded not only in beaver, but in buffalo, bear, elk,
antelope, and many smaller kinds of game. Indeed the buffalo used then
to cross the mountains into the valleys about the head-waters of the
Snake and Colorado Rivers, in such numbers that at certain seasons of
the year, the plains and river bottoms swarmed with them. Since that day
they have quite disappeared from the western slope of the Rocky
Mountains, and are no longer seen in the same numbers on the eastern
side.
Bear, although they did not go in herds, were rather uncomfortably
numerous, and sometimes put the trapper to considerable trouble, and
fright also; for very few were brave enough to willingly encounter the
formidable grizzly, one blow of whose terrible paw, aimed generally at
the hunter's head, if not arrested, lays him senseless and torn, an easy
victim to the wrathful monster. A gunshot wound, if not directed with
certainty to some vulnerable point, has only the effect to infuriate the
beast, and make him trebly dangerous. From the fact that the bear always
bites his wound, and commences to run with his head thus brought in the
direction from which the ball comes, he is pretty likely to make a
straight wake towards his enemy, whether voluntarily or not; and woe be
to the hunter who is not prepared for him, with a shot for his eye,
or the spot just behind the ear, where certain death enters.
[Illustration: _THE THREE "BARES."_]
In the frequent encounters of the mountain-men with these huge beasts,
many acts of wonderful bravery were performed, while some tragedies, and
not a few comedies were enacted.
From something humorous in Joe Meek's organization, or some wonderful
"luck" to which he was born, or both, the greater part of his adventures
with bears, as with men, were of a humorous complexion; enabling him not
only to have a story to tell, but one at which his companions were bound
to laugh. One of these which happened during the fall hunt of 1830, we
will let him tell for himself:
"The first fall on the Yellowstone, Hawkins and myself were coming up
the river in search of camp, when we discovered a very large bar on the
opposite bank. We shot across, and thought we had killed him, fur he
laid quite still. As we wanted to take some trophy of our victory to
camp, we tied our mules and left our guns, clothes, and everything
except our knives and belts, and swum over to whar the bar war. But
instead of being dead, as we expected, he sprung up as we come near him,
and took after us. Then you ought to have seen two naked men run! It war
a race for life, and a close one, too. But we made the river first. The
bank war about fifteen feet high above the water, and the river ten or
twelve feet deep; but we didn't halt. Overboard we went, the bar after
us, and in the stream about as quick as we war. The current war very
strong, and the bar war about half way between Hawkins and me. Hawkins
was trying to swim down stream faster than the current war carrying the
bar, and I war a trying to hold back. You can reckon that I swam! Every
moment I felt myself being washed into the yawning jaws of the mighty
beast, whose head war up the stream, and his eyes on me. But the
current war too strong for him, and swept him along as fast as it did
me. All this time, not a long one, we war looking for some place to land
where the bar could not overtake us. Hawkins war the first to make the
shore, unknown to the bar, whose head war still up stream; and he set up
such a whooping and yelling that the bar landed too, but on the opposite
side. I made haste to follow Hawkins, who had landed on the side of the
river we started from, either by design or good luck: and then we
traveled back a mile and more to whar our mules war left--a bar on one
side of the river, and _two bares_ on the other!"
Notwithstanding that a necessary discipline was observed and maintained
in the fur traders' camp, there was at the same time a freedom of manner
between the Booshways and the men, both hired and free, which could not
obtain in a purely military organization, nor even in the higher walks
of civilized life in cities. In the mountain community, motley as it
was, as in other communities more refined, were some men who enjoyed
almost unlimited freedom of speech and action, and others who were the
butt of everybody's ridicule or censure. The leaders themselves did not
escape the critical judgment of the men; and the estimation in which
they were held could be inferred from the manner in which they
designated them. Captain Sublette, whose energy, courage, and kindness
entitled him to the admiration of the mountaineers, went by the name of
_Billy_: his partner Jackson, was called _Davey_; Bridger, _old Gabe_,
and so on. In the same manner the men distinguished favorites or
oddities amongst themselves, and to have the adjective _old_ prefixed to
a man's name signified nothing concerning his age, but rather that he
was an object of distinction; though it did not always indicate, except
by the tone in which it was pronounced, whether that distinction were an
enviable one or not.
Whenever a trapper could get hold of any sort of story reflecting on the
courage of a leader, he was sure at some time to make him aware of it,
and these anecdotes were sometimes sharp answers in the mouths of
careless camp-keepers. Bridger was once waylaid by Blackfeet, who shot
at him, hitting his horse in several places. The wounds caused the
animal to rear and pitch, by reason of which violent movements Bridger
dropped his gun, and the Indians snatched it up; after which there was
nothing to do except to run, which Bridger accordingly did. Not long
after this, as was customary, the leader was making a circuit of the
camp examining the camp-keeper's guns, to see if they were in order, and
found that of one Maloney, an Irishman, in a very dirty condition.
"What would you do," asked Bridger, "with a gun like that, if the
Indians were to charge on the camp?"
"Be ----, I would throw it to them, and run the way ye did," answered
Maloney, quickly. It was sometime after this incident before Bridger
again examined Maloney's gun.
A laughable story in this way went the rounds of the camp in this fall
of 1830. Milton Sublette was out on a hunt with Meek after buffalo, and
they were just approaching the band on foot, at a distance apart of
about fifty yards, when a large grizzly bear came out of a thicket and
made after Sublette, who, when he perceived the creature, ran for the
nearest cotton-wood tree. Meek in the meantime, seeing that Sublette was
not likely to escape, had taken sure aim, and fired at the bear,
fortunately killing him. On running up to the spot where it laid,
Sublette was discovered sitting at the foot of a cotton-wood, with his
legs and arms clasped tightly around it.
"Do you always climb a tree in that way?" asked Meek.
"I reckon you took the wrong end of it, that time, Milton!"
"I'll be ----, Meek, if I didn't think I was twenty feet up that tree
when you shot;" answered the frightened Booshway; and from that time the
men never tired of alluding to Milton's manner of climbing a tree.
[Illustration: THE WRONG END OF THE TREE.]
These were some of the mirthful incidents which gave occasion for a
gayety which had to be substituted for happiness, in the checkered life
of the trapper; and there were like to be many such, where there were
two hundred men, each almost daily in the way of adventures by flood or
field.
On the change in the management of the Company which occurred at the
rendezvous this year, three of the new partners, Fitzpatrick, Sublette,
and Bridger, conducted a large party, numbering over two hundred, from
the Wind River to the Yellowstone; crossing thence to Smith's River, the
Falls of the Missouri, three forks of the Missouri, and to the Big
Blackfoot River. The hunt proved very successful; beaver were plentiful;
and the Blackfeet shy of so large a traveling party. Although so long in
their country, there were only four men killed out of the whole company
during this autumn.
From the Blackfoot River the company proceeded down the west side of the
mountains to the forks of the Snake River, and after trapping for a
short time in this locality, continued their march southward as far as
Ogden's Hole, a small valley among the Bear River Mountains.
At this place they fell in with a trading and trapping party, under Mr.
Peter Skeen Ogden, of the Hudson's Bay Company. And now commenced that
irritating and reprehensible style of rivalry with which the different
companies were accustomed to annoy one another. Accompanying Mr. Ogden's
trading party were a party of Rockway Indians, who were from the North,
and who were employed by the Hudson's Bay Company, as the Iroquois and
Crows were, to trap for them. Fitzpatrick and associates camped in the
neighborhood of Ogden's company, and immediately set about endeavoring
to purchase from the Rockways and others, the furs collected for Mr.
Ogden. Not succeeding by fair means, if the means to such an end could
be called fair,--they opened a keg of whiskey, which, when the Indians
had got a taste, soon drew them away from the Hudson's Bay trader, the
regulations of whose company forbade the selling or giving of liquors to
the Indians. Under its influence, the furs were disposed of to the Rocky
Mountain Company, who in this manner obtained nearly the whole product
of their year's hunt. This course of conduct was naturally exceedingly
disagreeable to Mr. Ogden, as well as unprofitable also; and a feeling
of hostility grew up and increased between the two camps.
While matters were in this position, a stampede one day occurred among
the horses in Ogden's camp, and two or three of the animals ran away,
and ran into the camp of the rival company. Among them was the horse of
Mr. Ogden's Indian wife, which had escaped, with her babe hanging to the
saddle.
Not many minutes elapsed, before the mother, following her child and
horse, entered the camp, passing right through it, and catching the now
halting steed by the bridle. At the same moment she espied one of her
company's pack-horses, loaded with beaver, which had also run into the
enemy's camp. The men had already begun to exult over the circumstance,
considering this chance load of beaver as theirs, by the laws of war.
But not so the Indian woman. Mounting her own horse, she fearlessly
seized the pack-horse by the halter, and led it out of camp, with its
costly burden.
At this undaunted action, some of the baser sort of men cried out "shoot
her, shoot her!" but a majority interfered, with opposing cries of "let
her go; let her alone; she's a brave woman: I glory in her pluck;" and
other like admiring expressions. While the clamor continued, the wife of
Ogden had galloped away, with her baby and her pack-horse.
As the season advanced, Fitzpatrick, with his other partners, returned
to the east side of the mountains, and went into winter quarters on
Powder river. In this trapper's "land of Canaan" they remained between
two and three months. The other two partners, Frapp and Jervais, who
were trapping far to the south, did not return until the following year.
While wintering it became necessary to send a dispatch to St. Louis on
the company's business. Meek and a Frenchman named Legarde, were chosen
for this service, which was one of trust and peril also. They proceeded
without accident, however, until the Pawnee villages were reached, when
Legarde was taken prisoner. Meek, more cautious, escaped, and proceeded
alone a few days' travel beyond, when he fell in with an express on its
way to St. Louis, to whom he delivered his dispatches, and returned to
camp, accompanied only by a Frenchman named Cabeneau; thus proving
himself an efficient mountaineer at twenty years of age.
1831. As soon as the spring opened, sometime in March, the whole company
started north again, for the Blackfoot country. But on the night of the
third day out, they fell unawares into the neighborhood of a party of
Crow Indians, whose spies discovered the company's horses feeding on the
dry grass of a little bottom, and succeeded in driving off about three
hundred head. Here was a dilemma to be in, in the heart of an enemy's
country! To send the remaining horses after these, might be "sending the
axe after the helve;" besides most of them belonged to the free
trappers, and could not be pressed into the service.
The only course remaining was to select the best men and dispatch them
on foot, to overtake and retake the stolen horses. Accordingly one
hundred trappers were ordered on this expedition, among whom were Meek,
Newell, and Antoine Godin, a half-breed and brave fellow, who was to
lead the party. Following the trail of the Crows for two hundred miles,
traveling day and night, on the third day they came up with them on a
branch of the Bighorn river. The trappers advanced cautiously, and being
on the opposite side of the stream, on a wooded bluff, were enabled to
approach close enough to look into their fort, and count the
unsuspecting thieves. There were sixty of them, fine young braves, who
believed that now they had made a start in life. Alas, for the vanity of
human, and especially of Crow expectations! Even then, while they were
grouped around their fires, congratulating themselves on the sudden
wealth which had descended upon them, as it were from the skies, an
envious fate, in the shape of several roguish white trappers, was
laughing at them and their hopes, from the overhanging bluff opposite
them. And by and by, when they were wrapped in a satisfied slumber, two
of these laughing rogues, Robert Newell, and Antoine Godin, stole under
the very walls of their fort, and setting the horses free, drove them
across the creek.
The Indians were awakened by the noise of the trampling horses, and
sprang to arms. But Meek and his fellow-trappers on the bluff fired into
the fort with such effect that the Crows were appalled. Having delivered
their first volley, they did not wait for the savages to recover from
their recoil. Mounting in hot haste, the cavalcade of bare-back riders,
and their drove of horses, were soon far away from the Crow fort,
leaving the ambitious braves to finish their excursion on foot. It was
afterwards ascertained that the Crows lost seven men by that one volley
of the trappers.
Flushed with success, the trappers yet found the backward journey more
toilsome than the outward; for what with sleeplessness and fatigue, and
bad traveling in melted snow, they were pretty well exhausted when they
reached camp. Fearing, however, another raid from the thieving Crows,
the camp got in motion again with as little delay as possible. They had
not gone far, when Fitzpatrick turned back, with only one man, to go to
St. Louis for supplies.
After the departure of Fitzpatrick, Bridger and Sublette completed their
spring and summer campaign without any material loss in men or animals,
and with considerable gain in beaver skins. Having once more visited the
Yellowstone, they turned to the south again, crossing the mountains into
Pierre's Hole, on to Snake river; thence to Salt river; thence to Bear
river; and thence to Green river, to rendezvous.
It was expected that Fitzpatrick would have arrived from St. Louis with
the usual annual recruits and supplies of merchandise, in time for the
summer rendezvous; but after waiting for some time in vain, Bridger and
Sublette determined to send out a small party to look for him. The large
number of men now employed, had exhausted the stock of goods on hand.
The camp was without blankets and without ammunition; knives were not to
be had; traps were scarce; but worse than all, the tobacco had given
out, and alcohol was not! In such a case as this, what could a
mountain-man do?
To seek the missing Booshway became not only a duty, but a necessity;
and not only a necessity of the physical man, but in an equal degree a
need of the moral and spiritual man, which was rusting with the tedium
of waiting. In the state of uncertainty in which the minds of the
company were involved, it occurred to that of Frapp to consult a great
"medicine-man" of the Crows, one of those recruits filched from Mr.
Ogden's party by whiskey the previous year.
Like all eminent professional men, the Crow chief required a generous
fee, of the value of a horse or two, before he would begin to make
"medicine." This peculiar ceremony is pretty much alike among all the
different tribes. It is observed first in the making of a medicine man,
_i. e._, qualifying him for his profession; and afterwards is practiced
to enable him to heal the sick, to prophecy, and to dream dreams, or
even to give victory to his people. To a medicine-man was imputed great
power, not only to cure, but to kill; and if, as it sometimes happened,
the relatives of a sick man suspected the medicine-man of having caused
his death, by the exercise of evil powers, one of them, or all of them,
pursued him to the death. Therefore, although it might be honorable, it
was not always safe to be a great "medicine."
The Indians placed a sort of religious value upon the practice of
fasting; a somewhat curious fact, when it is remembered how many
compulsory fasts they are obliged to endure, which must train them to
think lightly of the deprivation of food. Those, however, who could
endure voluntary abstinence long enough, were enabled to become very
wise and very brave. The manner of making a "medicine" among some of the
interior tribes, is in certain respects similar to the practice gone
through with by some preachers, in making a convert. A sort of
camp-meeting is held, for several nights, generally about five, during
which various dances are performed, with cries, and incantations, bodily
exercises, singing, and nervous excitement; enough to make many
patients, instead of one doctor. But the native's constitution is a
strong one, and he holds out well. At last, however, one or more are
overcome with the mysterious _power_ which enters into them at that
time; making, instead of a saint, only a superstitious Indian doctor.
The same sort of exercises which had made the Cree man a doctor were now
resorted to, in order that he might obtain a more than natural sight,
enabling him to see visions of the air, or at the least to endow him
with prophetic dreams. After several nights of singing, dancing,
hopping, screeching, beating of drums, and other more violent exercises
and contortions, the exhausted medicine-man fell off to sleep, and when
he awoke he announced to Frapp that Fitzpatrick was not dead. He was on
the road; some road; but not the right one; etc., etc.
Thus encouraged, Frapp determined to take a party, and go in search of
him. Accordingly Meek, Reese, Ebarts, and Nelson, volunteered to
accompany him. This party set out, first in the direction of Wind
River; but not discovering any signs of the lost Booshway in that
quarter, crossed over to the Sweetwater, and kept along down to the
North Fork of the Platte, and thence to the Black Hills, where they
found a beautiful country full of game; but not the hoped-for train,
with supplies. After waiting for a short time at the Black Hills,
Frapp's party returned to the North Fork of the Platte, and were
rejoiced to meet at last, the long absent partner, with his pack train.
Urged by Frapp, Fitzpatrick hastened forward, and came into camp on
Powder River after winter had set in.
Fitzpatrick had a tale to tell the other partners, in explanation of his
unexpected delay. When he had started for St. Louis in the month of
March previous, he had hoped to have met the old partners, Capt.
Sublette and Jedediah Smith, and to have obtained the necessary supplies
from them, to furnish the Summer rendezvous with plenty. But these
gentlemen, when he fell in with them, used certain arguments which
induced him to turn back, and accompany them to Santa Fe, where they
promised to furnish him goods, as he desired, and to procure for him an
escort at that place. The journey had proven tedious, and unfortunate.
They had several times been attacked by Indians, and Smith had been
killed. While they were camped on a small tributary of the Simmaron
River, Smith had gone a short distance from camp to procure water, and
while at the stream was surprised by an ambush, and murdered on the
spot, his murderers escaping unpunished. Sublette, now left alone in the
business, finally furnished him; and he had at last made his way back to
his Rocky Mountain camp.
But Fitzpatrick's content at being once more with his company was
poisoned by the disagreeable proximity of a rival company. If he had
annoyed Mr. Ogden of the Hudson's Bay Company, in the previous autumn,
Major Vanderburg and Mr. Dripps, of the American Company, in their turn
annoyed him. This company had been on their heels, from the Platte
River, and now were camped in the same neighborhood, using the Rocky
Mountain Company as pilots to show them the country. As this was just
what it was not for their interest to do, the Rocky Mountain Company
raised camp, and fairly ran away from them; crossing the mountains to
the Forks of the Snake River, where they wintered among the Nez Perces
and Flathead Indians.
Some time during this winter, Meek and Legarde, who had escaped from the
Pawnees, made another expedition together; traveling three hundred miles
on snowshoes, to the Bitter Root River, to look for a party of free
trappers, whose beaver the company wished to secure. They were absent
two months and a half, on this errand, and were entirely successful,
passing a Blackfoot village in the night, but having no adventures worth
recounting.