1832. In the following spring, the Rocky Mountain Fur Company commenced
its march, first up Lewis' Fork, then on to Salt River, thence to Gray's
River, and thence to Bear River. They fell in with the North American
Fur Company on the latter river, with a large lot of goods, but no
beaver. The American Company's resident partners were ignorant of the
country, and were greatly at a loss where to look for the good trapping
grounds. These gentlemen, Vanderburg and Dripps, were therefore inclined
to keep an eye on the movements of the Rocky Mountain Company, whose
leaders were acquainted with the whole region lying along the mountains,
from the head-waters of the Colorado to the northern branches of the
Missouri. On the other hand, the Rocky Mountain Company were anxious to
"shake the dust from off their feet," which was trodden by the American
Company, and to avoid the evils of competition in an Indian country. But
they found the effort quite useless; the rival company had a habit of
turning up in the most unexpected places, and taking advantage of the
hard-earned experience of the Rocky Mountain Company's leaders. They
tampered with the trappers, and ferreted out the secret of their next
rendezvous; they followed on their trail, making them pilots to the
trapping grounds; they sold goods to the Indians, and what was worse, to
the hired trappers. In this way grew up that fierce conflict of
interests, which made it "as much as his life was worth" for a trapper
to suffer himself to be inveigled into the service of a rival company,
which about this time or a little later, was at its highest, and which
finally ruined the fur-trade for the American companies in the Rocky
Mountains.
Finding their rivals in possession of the ground, Bridger and Milton
Sublette resolved to spend but a few days in that country. But so far as
Sublette was concerned, circumstances ordered differently. A Rockway
Chief, named Gray, and seven of his people, had accompanied the camp
from Ogden's Hole, in the capacity of trappers. But during the sojourn
on Bear River, there was a quarrel in camp on account of some indignity,
real or fancied, which had been offered to the chief's daughter, and in
the affray Gray stabbed Sublette so severely that it was thought he must
die.
It thus fell out that Sublette had to be left behind; and Meek who was
his favorite, was left to take care of him while he lived, and bury him
if he died; which trouble Sublette saved him, however, by getting well.
But they had forty lonesome days to themselves after the camps had moved
off,--one on the heels of the other, to the great vexation of Bridger.
Time passed slowly in Sublette's lodge, while waiting for his wound to
heal. Day passed after day, so entirely like each other that the
monotony alone seemed sufficient to invite death to an easy conquest.
But the mountain-man's blood, like the Indians, is strong and pure, and
his flesh heals readily, therefore, since death would not have him, the
wounded man was forced to accept of life in just this monotonous form.
To him Joe Meek was everything,--hands, feet, physician, guard, caterer,
hunter, cook, companion, friend. What long talks they had, when Sublette
grew better: what stories they told; what little glimpses of a secret
chamber in their hearts, and a better than the every-day spirit, in
their bosoms, was revealed,--as men will reveal such things in the
isolation of sea-voyages, or the solitary presence of majestic Nature.
To the veteran mountaineer there must have been something soothing in
the care and friendship of the youth of twenty-two, with his daring
disposition, his frankness, his cheerful humor, and his good looks;--for
our Joe was growing to be a maturely handsome man--tall,
broad-shouldered, straight, with plenty of flesh, and none too much of
it; a Southerner's olive complexion; frank, dark eyes, and a classical
nose and chin. What though in the matter of dress he was ignorant of the
latest styles?--grace imparts elegance even to the trapper's beaver-skin
cap and blanket capote.
At the end of forty days, as many as it took to drown a world, Sublette
found himself well enough to ride; and the two set out on their search
for camp. But now other adventures awaited them. On a fork of Green
River, they came suddenly upon a band of Snake Indians feeding their
horses. As soon as the Snakes discovered the white men, they set up a
yell, and made an instinctive rush for their horses. Now was the
critical moment. One word passed between the travelers, and they made a
dash past the savages, right into the village, and never slacked rein
until they threw themselves from their horses at the door of the
Medicine lodge. This is a large and fancifully decorated lodge, which
stands in the centre of a village, and like the churches of Christians,
is sacred. Once inside of this, the strangers were safe for the present;
their blood could not be shed there.
The warriors of the village soon followed Sublette and Meek into their
strange house of refuge. In half an hour it was filled. Not a word was
addressed to the strangers; nor by them to the Indians, who talked
among themselves with a solemn eagerness, while they smoked the
medicine pipe, as inspiration in their councils. Great was the
excitement in the minds of the listeners, who understood the Snake
tongue, as the question of their life or death was gravely discussed;
yet in their countenances appeared only the utmost serenity. To show
fear, is to whet an Indian's appetite for blood: coolness confounds and
awes him when anything will.
If Sublette had longed for excitement, while an invalid in his lonely
lodge on Bear River, he longed equally now for that blissful seclusion.
Listening for, and hearing one's death-warrant from a band of
blood-thirsty savages, could only prove with bitter sharpness how sweet
was life, even the most uneventful. For hours the council continued, and
the majority favored the death-sentence. But one old chief, called the
good _Gotia_, argued long for an acquittal: he did not see the necessity
of murdering two harmless travelers of the white race. Nothing availed,
however, and just at sunset their doom was fixed.
The only hope of escape was, that, favored by darkness, they might elude
the vigilance of their jailers; and night, although so near, seemed ages
away, even at sundown. Death being decreed, the warriors left the lodge
one by one to attend to the preparation of the preliminary ceremonies.
Gotia, the good, was the last to depart. As he left the Medicine lodge
he made signs to the captives to remain quiet until he should return;
pointing upwards to signify that there was a chance of life; and
downwards to show that possibly they must die.
What an age of anxiety was that hour of waiting! Not a word had been
exchanged between the prisoners since the Indians entered the lodge,
until now; and now very little was said, for speech would draw upon them
the vigilance of their enemy, by whom they desired most ardently to be
forgotten.
About dusk there was a great noise, and confusion, and clouds of dust,
in the south end of the village. Something was going wrong among the
Indian horses. Immediately all the village ran to the scene of the
disorder, and at the same moment Gotia, the good, appeared at the door
of the Medicine lodge, beckoning the prisoners to follow him. With
alacrity they sprang up and after him, and were led across the stream,
to a thicket on the opposite side, where their horses stood, ready to
mount, in the charge of a young Indian girl. They did not stop for
compliments, though had time been less precious, they might well have
bestowed some moments of it in admiration of _Umentucken Tukutsey
Undewatsey_, the Mountain Lamb. Soon after, the beautiful Snake girl
became the wife of Milton Sublette; and after his return to the States,
of the subject of this narrative; from which circumstance the incident
above related takes on something of the rosy hue of romance.
As each released captive received his bridle from the delicate hand of
the Mountain Lamb, he sprang to the saddle. By this time the chief had
discovered that the strangers understood the Snake dialect. "Ride, if
you wish to live," said he: "ride without stopping, all night: and
to-morrow linger not." With hurried thanks our mountain-men replied to
this advice, and striking into a gallop, were soon far away from the
Snake village. The next day at noon found them a hundred and fifty miles
on their way to camp. Proceeding without further accident, they crossed
the Teton Mountains, and joined the company at Pierre's Hole, after an
absence of nearly four months.
Here they found the ubiquitous if not omnipresent American Fur Company
encamped at the rendezvous of the Rocky Mountain Company. The partners
being anxious to be freed from this sort of espionage, and obstinate
competition on their own ground, made a proposition to Vanderburg and
Dripps to divide the country with them, each company to keep on its own
territory. This proposition was refused by the American Company; perhaps
because they feared having the poorer portion set off to themselves by
their more experienced rivals. On this refusal, the Rocky Mountain
Company determined to send an express to meet Capt. William Sublette,
who was on his way out with a heavy stock of merchandise, and hurry him
forward, lest the American Company should have the opportunity of
disposing of its goods, when the usual gathering to rendezvous began. On
this decision being formed, Fitzpatrick determined to go on this errand
himself; which he accordingly did, falling in with Sublette, and
Campbell, his associate, somewhere near the Black Hills. To them he
imparted his wishes and designs, and receiving the assurance of an early
arrival at rendezvous, parted from them at the Sweetwater, and hastened
back, alone, as he came, to prepare for business.
Captain Sublette hurried forward with his train, which consisted of
sixty men with pack-horses, three to a man. In company with him, was Mr.
Nathaniel Wyeth, a history of whose fur-trading and salmon-fishing
adventures has already been given. Captain Sublette had fallen in with
Mr. Wyeth at Independence, Missouri; and finding him ignorant of the
undertaking on which he was launched, offered to become pilot and
traveling companion, an offer which was gratefully accepted.
The caravan had reached the foot-hills of the Wind River Mountains, when
the raw recruits belonging to both these parties were treated to a
slight foretaste of what Indian fighting would be, should they ever have
to encounter it. Their camp was suddenly aroused at midnight by the
simultaneous discharge of guns and arrows, and the frightful whoops and
yells with which the savages make an attack. Nobody was wounded,
however; but on springing to arms, the Indians fled, taking with them a
few horses which their yells had frightened from their pickets. These
marauders were Blackfeet, as Captain Sublette explained to Mr. Wyeth,
their moccasin tracks having betrayed them; for as each tribe has a
peculiar way of making or shaping the moccasin, the expert in Indian
habits can detect the nationality of an Indian thief by his foot-print.
After this episode of the night assault, the leaders redoubled their
watchfulness, and reached their destination in Pierre's hole about the
first of July.
When Sublette arrived in camp, it was found that Fitzpatrick was
missing. If the other partners had believed him to be with the Captain,
the Captain expected to find him with them; but since neither could
account to the other for his non-appearance, much anxiety was felt, and
Sublette remembered with apprehension the visit he had received from
Blackfeet. However, before anything had been determined upon with regard
to him, he made his appearance in camp, in company with two Iroquois
half-breeds, belonging to the camp, who had been out on a hunt.
Fitzpatrick had met with an adventure, as had been conjectured. While
coming up the Green river valley, he descried a small party of mounted
men, whom he mistook for a company of trappers, and stopped to
reconnoitre; but almost at the same moment the supposed trappers,
perceiving him, set up a yell that quickly undeceived him, and compelled
him to flight. Abandoning his pack-horse, he put the other to its
topmost speed, and succeeded in gaining the mountains, where in a deep
and dark defile he secreted himself until he judged the Indians had
left that part of the valley. In this he was deceived, for no sooner did
he emerge again into the open country, than he was once more pursued,
and had to abandon his horse, to take refuge among the cliffs of the
mountains. Here he remained for several days, without blankets or
provisions, and with only one charge of ammunition, which was in his
rifle, and kept for self-defense. At length, however, by frequent
reconnoitering, he managed to elude his enemies, traveling by night,
until he fortunately met with the two hunters from camp, and was
conveyed by them to the rendezvous.
All the parties were now safely in. The lonely mountain valley was
populous with the different camps. The Rocky Mountain and American
companies had their separate camps; Wyeth had his; a company of free
trappers, fifteen in number, led by a man named Sinclair, from Arkansas,
had the fourth; the Nez Perces and Flatheads, the allies of the Rocky
Mountain company, and the friends of the whites, had their lodges along
all the streams; so that altogether there could not have been less than
one thousand souls, and two or three thousand horses and mules gathered
in this place.
"When the pie was opened then the birds began to sing." When Captain
Sublette's goods were opened and distributed among the trappers and
Indians, then began the usual gay carousal; and the "fast young men" of
the mountains outvied each other in all manner of mad pranks. In the
beginning of their spree many feats of horsemanship and personal
strength were exhibited, which were regarded with admiring wonder by the
sober and inexperienced New Englanders under Mr. Wyeth's command. And as
nothing stimulated the vanity of the mountain-men like an audience of
this sort, the feats they performed were apt to astonish themselves. In
exhibitions of the kind, the free trappers took the lead, and usually
carried off the palm, like the privileged class that they were.
But the horse-racing, fine riding, wrestling, and all the manlier
sports, soon degenerated into the baser exhibitions of a "crazy drunk"
condition. The vessel in which the trapper received and carried about
his supply of alcohol was one of the small camp kettles. "Passing round"
this clumsy goblet very freely, it was not long before a goodly number
were in the condition just named, and ready for any mad freak whatever.
It is reported by several of the mountain-men that on the occasion of
one of these "frolics," one of their number seized a kettle of alcohol,
and poured it over the head of a tall, lank, redheaded fellow, repeating
as he did so the baptismal ceremony. No sooner had he concluded, than
another man with a lighted stick, touched him with the blaze, when in an
instant he was enveloped in flames. Luckily some of the company had
sense enough left to perceive his danger, and began beating him with
pack-saddles to put out the blaze. But between the burning and the
beating, the unhappy wretch nearly lost his life, and never recovered
from the effects of his baptism by fire.
Beaver being plenty in camp, business was correspondingly lively, there
being a great demand for goods. When this demand was supplied, as it was
in the course of about three weeks, the different brigades were set in
motion. One of the earliest to move was a small party under Milton
Sublette, including his constant companion, Meek. With this company, no
more than thirty in number, Sublette intended to explore the country to
the south-west, then unknown to the fur companies, and to proceed as far
as the Humboldt river in that direction.
On the 17th of July they set out toward the south end of the valley, and
having made but about eight miles the first day, camped that night near
a pass in the mountains. Wyeth's party of raw New Englanders, and
Sinclair's free trappers, had joined themselves to the company of Milton
Sublette, and swelled the number in camp to about sixty men, many of
them new to the business of mountain life.
Just as the men were raising camp for a start the next morning, a
caravan was observed moving down the mountain pass into the valley. No
alarm was at first felt, as an arrival was daily expected of one of the
American company's partisans, Mr. Fontenelle, and his company. But on
reconnoitering with a glass, Sublette discovered them to be a large
party of Blackfeet, consisting of a few mounted men, and many more, men,
women, and children, on foot. At the instant they were discovered, they
set up the usual yell of defiance, and rushed down like a mountain
torrent into the valley, flourishing their weapons, and fluttering their
gay blankets and feathers in the wind. There was no doubt as to the
warlike intentions of the Blackfeet in general, nor was it for a moment
to be supposed that any peaceable overture on their part meant anything
more than that they were not prepared to fight at that particular
juncture; therefore let not the reader judge too harshly of an act which
under ordinary circumstances would have been infamous. In Indian
fighting, every man is his own leader, and the bravest take the front
rank. On this occasion there were two of Sublette's men, one a
half-breed Iroquois, the other a Flathead Indian, who had wrongs of
their own to avenge, and they never let slip a chance of killing a
Blackfoot. These two men rode forth alone to meet the enemy, as if to
hold a "talk" with the principal chief, who advanced to meet them,
bearing the pipe of peace. When the chief extended his hand, Antonio
Godin, the half-breed, took it, but at the same moment he ordered the
Flathead to fire, and the chief fell dead. The two trappers galloped
back to camp, Antoine bearing for a trophy the scarlet blanket of his
enemy.
This action made it impossible to postpone the battle, as the dead chief
had meant to do by peaceful overtures, until the warriors of his nation
came up. The Blackfeet immediately betook themselves to a swamp formed
by an old beaver dam, and thickly overgrown with cotton-wood and willow,
matted together with tough vines. On the edge of this dismal covert the
warriors skulked, and shot with their guns and arrows, while in its very
midst the women employed themselves in digging a trench and throwing up
a breastwork of logs, and whatever came to hand. Such a defence as the
thicket afforded was one not easy to attack; its unseen but certain
dangers being sufficient to appal the stoutest heart.
Meantime, an express had been sent off to inform Captain Sublette of the
battle, and summon assistance. Sinclair and his free trappers, with
Milton Sublette's small company, were the only fighting men at hand. Mr.
Wyeth, knowing the inefficiency of his men in an Indian fight, had them
entrenched behind their packs, and there left them to take care of
themselves, but charged them not to appear in open field. As for the
fighting men, they stationed themselves in a ravine, where they could
occasionally pick off a Blackfoot, and waited for reinforcements.
Great was the astonishment of the Blackfeet, who believed they had only
Milton Sublette's camp to fight, when they beheld first one party of
white men and then another; and not only whites, but Nez Perces and
Flatheads came galloping up the valley. If before it had been a battle
to destroy the whites, it was now a battle to defend themselves.
Previous to the arrival of Captain Sublette, the opposing forces had
kept up only a scattering fire, in which nobody on the side of the
trappers had been either killed or wounded. But when the impetuous
captain arrived on the battle-field, he prepared for less guarded
warfare. Stripped as if for the prize-ring, and armed _cap-a-pie_, he
hastened to the scene of action, accompanied by his intimate friend and
associate in business, Robert Campbell.
At sight of the reinforcements, and their vigorous movements, the
Indians at the edge of the swamp fell back within their fort. To
dislodge them was a dangerous undertaking, but Captain Sublette was
determined to make the effort. Finding the trappers generally
disinclined to enter the thicket, he set the example, together with
Campbell, and thus induced some of the free trappers, with their leader,
Sinclair, to emulate his action. However, the others took courage at
this, and advanced near the swamp, firing at random at their invisible
foe, who, having the advantage of being able to see them, inflicted some
wounds on the party.
The few white "braves" who had resolved to enter the swamp, made their
wills as they went, feeling that they were upon perilous business.
Sublette, Campbell, and Sinclair succeeded in penetrating the thicket
without alarming the enemy, and came at length to a more open space from
whence they could get a view of the fort. From this they learned that
the women and children had retired to the mountains, and that the fort
was a slight affair, covered with buffalo robes and blankets to keep out
prying eyes. Moving slowly on, some slight accident betrayed their
vicinity, and the next moment a shot struck Sinclair, wounding him
mortally. He spoke to Campbell, requesting to be taken to his brother.
By this time some of the men had come up, and he was given in charge to
be taken back to camp. Sublette then pressed forward, and seeing an
Indian looking through an aperture, aimed at him with fatal effect. No
sooner had he done so, and pointed out the opening to Campbell, than he
was struck with a ball in the shoulder, which nearly prostrated him, and
turned him so faint that Campbell took him in his arms and carried him,
assisted by Meek, out of the swamp. At the same time one of the men
received a wound in the head. The battle was now carried on with spirit,
although from the difficulty of approaching the fort, the firing was
very irregular.
The mountaineers who followed Sublette, took up their station in the
woods on one side of the fort, and the Nez Perces, under Wyeth, on the
opposite side, which accidental arrangement, though it was fatal to many
of the Blackfeet in the fort, was also the occasion of loss to
themselves by the cross-fire. The whites being constantly reinforced by
fresh arrivals from the rendezvous, were soon able to silence the guns
of the enemy, but they were not able to drive them from their fort,
where they remained silent and sullen after their ammunition was
exhausted.
Seeing that the women of the Nez Perces and Flatheads were gathering up
sticks to set fire to their breastwork of logs, an old chief proclaimed
in a loud voice from within, the startling intelligence that there were
four hundred lodges of his people close at hand, who would soon be there
to avenge their deaths, should the whites choose to reduce them to
ashes. This harangue, delivered in the usual high-flown style of Indian
oratory, either was not clearly understood, or was wrongly interpreted,
and the impression got abroad that an attack was being made on the great
encampment. This intelligence occasioned a diversion, and a division of
forces; for while a small party was left to watch the fort, the rest
galloped in hot haste to the rescue of the main camp. When they arrived,
they found it had been a false alarm, but it was too late to return that
night, and the several camps remained where they were until the next
day.
Meantime the trappers left to guard the fort remained stationed within
the wood all night, firmly believing they had their enemy "corraled," as
the horsemen of the plains would say. On the return, in the morning, of
their comrades from the main camp, they advanced cautiously up to the
breastwork of logs, and behold! not a buffalo skin nor red blanket was
to be seen! Through the crevices among the logs was seen an empty fort.
On making this discovery there was much chagrin among the white
trappers, and much lamentation among the Indian allies, who had
abandoned the burning of the fort expressly to save for themselves the
fine blankets and other goods of their hereditary foes.
From the reluctance displayed by the trappers, in the beginning of the
battle, to engage with the Indians while under cover of the woods, it
must not be inferred that they were lacking in courage. They were too
well informed in Indian modes of warfare to venture recklessly into the
den of death, which a savage ambush was quite sure to be. The very
result which attended the impetuosity of their leaders, in the death of
Sinclair and the wounding of Captain Sublette, proved them not over
cautious.
On entering the fort, the dead bodies of ten Blackfeet were found,
besides others dead outside the fort, and over thirty horses, some of
which were recognized as those stolen from Sublette's night camp on the
other side of the mountains, besides those abandoned by Fitzpatrick.
Doubtless the rascals had followed his trail to Pierre's Hole, not
thinking, however, to come upon so large a camp as they found at last.
The savage garrison which had so cunningly contrived to elude the guard
set upon them, carried off some of their wounded, and, perhaps, also
some of their dead; for they acknowledged afterwards a much larger loss
than appeared at the time. Besides Sinclair, there were five other white
men killed, one half-breed, and seven Nez Perces. About the same number
of whites and their Indian allies were wounded.
An instance of female devotion is recorded by Bonneville's historian as
having occurred at this battle. On the morning following it, as the
whites were exploring the thickets about the fort, they discovered a
Blackfoot woman leaning silent and motionless against a tree. According
to Mr. Irving, whose fine feeling for the sex would incline him to put
faith in this bit of romance, "their surprise at her lingering here
alone, to fall into the hands of her enemies, was dispelled when they
saw the corpse of a warrior at her feet. Either she was so lost in grief
as not to perceive their approach, or a proud spirit kept her silent and
motionless. The Indians set up a yell on discovering her, and before the
trappers could interfere, her mangled body fell upon the corpse which
she had refused to abandon." This version is true in the main incidents,
but untrue in the sentiment. The woman's leg had been broken by a ball,
and she was unable to move from the spot where she leaned. When the
trappers approached her, she stretched out her hands supplicatingly,
crying out in a wailing voice, "kill me! kill me! O white men, kill
me!"--but this the trappers had no disposition to do. While she was
entreating them, and they refusing, a ball from some vengeful Nez Perce
or Flathead put an end to her sufferings.
Still remembering the threats of the Blackfoot chief, that four hundred
lodges of his brethren were advancing on the valley, all the companies
returned to rendezvous, and remained for several days, to see whether an
attack should take place. But if there had ever been any such intention
on the part of the Blackfoot nation, the timely lesson bestowed on their
advance guard had warned them to quit the neighborhood of the whites.
Captain Sublette's wound was dressed by Mr. Wyeth's physician, and
although it hindered his departure for St. Louis for some time, it did
not prevent his making his usual journey later in the season. It was as
well, perhaps, that he did not set out earlier, for of a party of seven
who started for St. Louis a few days after the battle, three were killed
in Jackson's Hole, where they fell in with the four hundred warriors
with whom the Blackfoot chief threatened the whites at the battle of
Pierre's Hole. From the story of the four survivors who escaped and
returned to camp, there could no longer be any doubt that the big
village of the Blackfeet had actually been upon the trail of Capt.
Sublette, expecting an easy victory when they should overtake him. How
they were disappointed by the reception met with by the advance camp,
has already been related.