1835. Owing to the high rate of pay which Meek was now able to command,
he began to think of imitating the example of that distinguished order,
the free trappers, to which he now belonged, and setting up a lodge to
himself as a family man. The writer of this veracious history has never
been able to obtain a full and particular account of our hero's earliest
love adventures. This is a subject on which, in common with most
mountain-men, he observes a becoming reticence. But of one thing we feel
quite well assured: that from the time when the young Shoshonie beauty
assisted in the rescue of himself and Sublette from the execution of the
death sentence at the hands of her people, Meek had always cherished a
rather more than friendly regard for the "Mountain Lamb."
[Illustration: _THE FREE TRAPPER'S INDIAN WIFE._]
But Sublette, with wealth and power, and the privileges of a Booshway,
had hastened to secure her for himself; and Meek had to look and long
from afar off, until, in the year of which we are writing, Milton
Sublette was forced to leave the mountains and repair to an eastern city
for surgical aid; having received a very troublesome wound in the leg,
which was only cured at last by amputation.
Whether it was the act of a gay Lothario, or whether the law of divorce
is even more easy in the mountains than in Indiana, we have always
judiciously refrained from inquiring; but this we do know, upon the word
of Meek himself, no sooner was Milton's back turned, than his friend so
insinuated himself into the good graces of his _Isabel_, as Sublette was
wont to name the lovely Umentucken, that she consented to join her
fortunes to those of the handsome young trapper without even the
ceremony of serving a notice on her former lord. As their season of
bliss only extended over one brief year, this chapter shall be entirely
devoted to recording such facts as have been imparted to us concerning
this free trapper's wife.
"She was the most beautiful Indian woman I ever saw," says Meek: "and
when she was mounted on her dapple gray horse, which cost me three
hundred dollars, she made a fine show. She wore a skirt of beautiful
blue broadcloth, and a bodice and leggins of scarlet cloth, of the very
finest make. Her hair was braided and fell over her shoulders, a scarlet
silk handkerchief, tied on hood fashion, covered her head; and the
finest embroidered moccasins her feet. She rode like all the Indian
women, astride, and carried on one side of the saddle the tomahawk for
war, and on the other the pipe of peace.
"The name of her horse was "All Fours." His accoutrements were as fine
as his rider's. The saddle, crupper, and bust girths cost one hundred
and fifty dollars; the bridle fifty dollars; and the musk-a-moots fifty
dollars more. All these articles were ornamented with fine cut glass
beads, porcupine quills, and hawk's bells, that tinkled at every step.
Her blankets were of scarlet and blue, and of the finest quality. Such
was the outfit of the trapper's wife, _Umentucken, Tukutey Undenwatsy_,
the Lamb of the Mountains."
Although Umentucken was beautiful, and had a name signifying gentleness,
she was not without a will and a spirit of her own, when the occasion
demanded it. While the camp was on the Yellowstone River, in the summer
of 1835, a party of women left it to go in search of berries, which were
often dried and stored for winter use by the Indian women. Umentucken
accompanied this party, which was attacked by a band of Blackfeet, some
of the squaws being taken prisoners. But Umentucken saved herself by
flight, and by swimming the Yellowstone while a hundred guns were
leveled on her, the bullets whistling about her ears.
At another time she distinguished herself in camp by a quarrel with one
of the trappers, in which she came off with flying colors. The trapper
was a big, bullying Irishman named O'Fallen, who had purchased two
prisoners from the Snake Indians, to be kept in a state of slavery,
after the manner of the savages. The prisoners were Utes, or Utahs, who
soon contrived to escape. O'Fallen, imagining that Umentucken had
liberated them, threatened to whip her, and armed himself with a
horsewhip for that purpose. On hearing of these threats Umentucken
repaired to her lodge, and also armed herself, but with a pistol. When
O'Fallen approached, the whole camp looking on to see the event,
Umentucken slipped out at the back of the lodge and coming around
confronted him before he could enter.
"Coward!" she cried. "You would whip the wife of Meek. He is not here to
defend me; not here to kill you. But I shall do that for myself," and
with that she presented the pistol to his head. O'Fallen taken by
surprise, and having every reason to believe she would keep her word,
and kill him on the spot, was obliged not only to apologize, but to beg
to have his life spared. This Umentucken consented to do on condition of
his sufficiently humbling himself, which he did in a very shame-faced
manner; and a shout then went up from the whole camp--"hurrah for the
Mountain Lamb!" for nothing more delights a mountaineer than a show of
pluck, especially in an unlooked for quarter.
The Indian wives of the trappers were often in great peril, as well as
their lords. Whenever it was convenient they followed them on their long
marches through dangerous countries. But if the trapper was only going
out for a few days, or if the march before him was more than usually
dangerous, the wife remained with the main camp.
During this year of which we are writing, a considerable party had been
out on Powder River hunting buffalo, taking their wives along with them.
When on the return, just before reaching camp, Umentucken was missed
from the cavalcade. She had fallen behind, and been taken prisoner by a
party of twelve Crow Indians. As soon as she was missed, a volunteer
party mounted their buffalo horses in such haste that they waited not
for saddle or bridle, but snatched only a halter, and started back in
pursuit. They had not run a very long distance when they discovered poor
Umentucken in the midst of her jubilant captors, who were delighting
their eyes with gazing at her fine feathers, and promising themselves
very soon to pluck the gay bird, and appropriate her trinkets to their
own use.
Their delight was premature. Swift on their heels came an avenging, as
well as a saving spirit. Meek, at the head of his six comrades, no
sooner espied the drooping form of the Lamb, than he urged his horse to
the top of its speed. The horse was a spirited creature, that seeing
something wrong in all these hasty maneuvers, took fright and adding
terror to good will, ran with the speed of madness right in amongst the
startled Crows, who doubtless regarded as a great "medicine" so fearless
a warrior. It was now too late to be prudent, and Meek began the battle
by yelling and firing, taking care to hit his Indian. The other
trappers, emulating the bold example of their leader, dashed into the
melee and a chance medley fight was carried on, in which Umentucken
escaped, and another Crow bit the dust. Finding that they were getting
the worst of the fight, the Indians at length took to flight, and the
trappers returned to camp rejoicing, and complimenting Meek on his
gallantry in attacking the Crows single-handed.
"I took their compliments quite naturally," says Meek, "nor did I think
it war worth while to explain to them that I couldn't hold my horse."
The Indians are lordly and tyrannical in their treatment of women,
thinking it no shame to beat them cruelly; even taking the liberty of
striking other women than those belonging to their own families. While
the camp was traveling through the Crow country in the spring of 1836, a
party of that nation paid a visit to Bridger, bringing skins to trade
for blankets and ammunition. The bargaining went on quite pleasantly for
some time; but one of the braves who was promenading about camp
inspecting whatever came in his way, chanced to strike Umentucken with a
whip he carried in his hand, by way of displaying his superiority to
squaws in general, and trappers' wives in particular. It was an unlucky
blow for the brave, for in another instant he rolled on the ground, shot
dead by a bullet from Meek's gun.
At this rash act the camp was in confusion. Yells from the Crows, who
took the act as a signal for war; hasty questions, and cries of command;
arming and shooting. It was some time before the case could be explained
or understood. The Crows had two or three of their party shot; the
whites also lost a man. After the unpremeditated fight was over, and the
Crows departed not thoroughly satisfied with the explanation, Bridger
went round to Meek's lodge.
"Well, you raised a hell of a row in camp;" said the commander, rolling
out his deep bass voice in the slow monotonous tones which mountain men
very quickly acquire from the Indians.
"Very sorry, Bridger; but couldn't help it. No devil of an Indian shall
strike Meek's wife."
"But you got a man killed."
"Sorry for the man; couldn't help it, though, Bridger."
And in truth it was too late to mend the matter. Fearing, however, that
the Crows would attempt to avenge themselves for the losses they had
sustained, Bridger hurried his camp forward, and got out of their
neighborhood as quickly as possible.
So much for the female element in the camp of the Rocky Mountain
trapper. Woman, it is said, has held the apple of discord, from mother
Eve to Umentucken, and in consonance with this theory, Bridger,
doubtless, considered the latter as the primal cause of the unfortunate
"row in camp," rather than the brutality of the Crow, or the imprudence
of Meek.
But Umentucken's career was nearly run. In the following summer she met
her death by a Bannack arrow; dying like a warrior, although living she
was only a woman.