From the mountains about the head-waters of the Snake River, Meek
returned, with Bridger's brigade to the Yellowstone country, where he
fell into the hands of the Crows. The story as he relates it, is as
follows:
"I war trapping on the Rocky Fork of the Yellowstone. I had been out
from camp five days; and war solitary and alone, when I war discovered
by a war party of Crows. They had the prairie, and I war forced to run
for the Creek bottom; but the beaver had throwed the water out and made
dams, so that my mule mired down. While I war struggling in the marsh,
the Indians came after me, with tremendous yells; firing a random shot
now and then, as they closed in on me.
"When they war within about two rods of me, I brought old _Sally_, that
is my gun, to my face, ready to fire, and then die; for I knew it war
death this time, unless Providence interfered to save me: and I didn't
think Providence would do it. But the head chief, when he saw the
warlike looks of _Sally_, called out to me to put down my gun, and I
should live.
"Well, I liked to live,--being then in the prime of life; and though it
hurt me powerful, I resolved to part with _Sally_. I laid her down. As I
did so, the chief picked her up, and one of the braves sprang at me with
a spear, and would have run me through, but the chief knocked him down
with the butt of my gun. Then they led me forth to the high plain on the
south side of the stream. There they called a halt, and I was given in
charge of three women, while the warriors formed a ring to smoke and
consult. This gave me an opportunity to count them: they numbered one
hundred and eighty-seven men, nine boys, and three women.
"After a smoke of three long hours, the chief, who war named 'The Bold,'
called me in the ring, and said:
"'I have known the whites for a long time, and I know them to be great
liars, deserving death; but if _you_ will tell the truth, you shall
live.'
"Then I thought to myself, they will fetch the truth out of me, if thar
is any in me. But his highness continued:
"'Tell me whar are the whites you belong to; and what is your captain's
name.'
"I said 'Bridger is my captain's name; or, in the Crow tongue,
_Casapy_,' the 'Blanket chief.' At this answer the chief seemed lost in
thought. At last he asked me--
"'How many men has he?'
"I thought about telling the truth and living; but I said 'forty,' which
war a tremendous lie; for thar war two hundred and forty. At this answer
The Bold laughed:
"'We will make them poor,' said he; 'and you shall live, but they shall
die.'
"I thought to myself, 'hardly;' but I said nothing. He then asked me
whar I war to meet the camp, and I told him:--and then how many days
before the camp would be thar; which I answered truly, for I wanted them
to find the camp.
"It war now late in the afternoon, and thar war a great bustle, getting
ready for the march to meet Bridger. Two big Indians mounted my mule,
but the women made me pack moccasins. The spies started first, and after
awhile the main party. Seventy warriors traveled ahead of me: I war
placed with the women and boys; and after us the balance of the braves.
As we traveled along, the women would prod me with sticks, and laugh,
and say 'Masta Sheela,' (which means white man,) 'Masta sheela very poor
now.' The fair sex war very much amused.
"We traveled that way till midnight, the two big bucks riding my mule,
and I packing moccasins. Then we camped; the Indians in a ring, with me
in the centre, to keep me safe. I didn't sleep very well that night. I'd
a heap rather been in some other place.
"The next morning we started on in the same order as before: and the
squaws making fun of me all day; but I kept mighty quiet. When we
stopped to cook that evening, I war set to work, and war head cook, and
head waiter too. The third and the fourth day it war the same. I felt
pretty bad when we struck camp on the last day: for I knew we must be
coming near to Bridger, and that if any thing should go wrong, my life
would pay the forfeit.
"On the afternoon of the fourth day, the spies, who war in advance,
looking out from a high hill, made a sign to the main party. In a moment
all sat down. Directly they got another sign, and then they got up and
moved on. I war as well up in Indian signs as they war; and I knew they
had discovered white men. What war worse, I knew they would soon
discover that I had been lying to them. All I had to do then war to
trust to luck. Soon we came to the top of the hill, which overlooked the
Yellowstone, from which I could see the plains below extending as far as
the eye could reach, and about three miles off, the camp of my friends.
My heart beat double quick about that time; and I once in a while put my
hand to my head, to feel if my scalp war thar.
"While I war watching our camp, I discovered that the horse guard had
seen us, for I knew the sign he would make if he discovered Indians. I
thought the camp a splendid sight that evening. It made a powerful show
to me, who did not expect ever to see it after that day. And it _war_ a
fine sight any how, from the hill whar I stood. About two hundred and
fifty men, and women and children in great numbers, and about a thousand
horses and mules. Then the beautiful plain, and the sinking sun; and the
herds of buffalo that could not be numbered; and the cedar hills,
covered with elk,--I never saw so fine a sight as all that looked to me
then!
"When I turned my eyes on that savage Crow band, and saw the chief
standing with his hand on his mouth, lost in amazement; and beheld the
warriors' tomahawks and spears glittering in the sun, my heart war very
little. Directly the chief turned to me with a horrible scowl. Said he:
"'I promised that you should live if you told the truth; but you have
told me a great lie.'
"Then the warriors gathered around, with their tomahawks in their hands;
but I war showing off very brave, and kept my eyes fixed on the
horse-guard who war approaching the hill to drive in the horses. This
drew the attention of the chief, and the warriors too. Seeing that the
guard war within about two hundred yards of us, the chief turned to me
and ordered me to tell him to come up. I pretended to do what he said;
but instead of that I howled out to him to stay off, or he would be
killed; and to tell Bridger to try to treat with them, and get me away.
"As quick as he could he ran to camp, and in a few minutes Bridger
appeared, on his large white horse. He came up to within three hundred
yards of us, and called out to me, asking who the Indians war. I
answered 'Crows.' He then told me to say to the chief he wished him to
send one of his sub-chiefs to smoke with him.
"All this time my heart beat terribly hard. I don't know now why they
didn't kill me at once; but the head chief seemed overcome with
surprise. When I repeated to him what Bridger said, he reflected a
moment, and then ordered the second chief, called Little-Gun, to go and
smoke with Bridger. But they kept on preparing for war; getting on their
paint and feathers, arranging their scalp locks, selecting their arrows,
and getting their ammunition ready.
"While this war going on, Little-Gun had approached to within about a
hundred yards of Bridger; when, according to the Crow laws of war, each
war forced to strip himself, and proceed the remaining distance in a
state of nudity, and kiss and embrace. While this interesting ceremony
war being performed, five of Bridger's men had followed him, keeping in
a ravine until they got within shooting distance, when they showed
themselves, and cut off the return of Little-Gun, thus making a prisoner
of him.
"If you think my heart did not jump up when I saw that, you think wrong.
I knew it war kill or cure, now. Every Indian snatched a weapon, and
fierce threats war howled against me. But all at once about a hundred of
our trappers appeared on the scene. At the same time Bridger called to
me, to tell me to propose to the chief to exchange me for Little-Gun. I
explained to The Bold what Bridger wanted to do, and he sullenly
consented: for, he said, he could not afford to give a chief for one
white dog's scalp. I war then allowed to go towards my camp, and
Little-Gun towards his; and the rescue I hardly hoped for war
accomplished.
"In the evening the chief, with forty of his braves, visited Bridger
and made a treaty of three months. They said they war formerly at war
with the whites; but that they desired to be friendly with them now, so
that together they might fight the Blackfeet, who war everybody's
enemies. As for me, they returned me my mule, gun, and beaver packs, and
said my name should be _Shiam Shaspusia_, for I could out-lie the
Crows."
In December, Bridger's command went into winter quarters in the bend of
the Yellowstone. Buffalo, elk, and bear were in great abundance, all
that fall and winter. Before they went to camp, Meek, Kit Carson,
Hawkins, and Doughty were trapping together on the Yellowstone, about
sixty miles below. They had made their temporary camp in the ruins of an
old fort, the walls of which were about six feet high. One evening,
after coming in from setting their traps, they discovered three large
grizzly bears in the river bottom, not more than half a mile off, and
Hawkins went out to shoot one. He was successful in killing one at the
first shot, when the other two, taking fright, ran towards the fort. As
they came near enough to show that they were likely to invade camp, Meek
and Carson, not caring to have a bear fight, clambered up a cotton-wood
tree close by, at the same time advising Doughty to do the same. But
Doughty was tired, and lazy besides, and concluded to take his chances
where he was; so he rolled himself in his blanket and laid quite still.
The bears, on making the fort, reared up on their hind legs and looked
in as if meditating taking it for a defence.
The sight of Doughty lying rolled in his blanket, and the monster
grizzlys inspecting the fort, caused the two trappers who were safely
perched in the cotton-wood to make merry at Doughty's expense; saying
all the mirth-provoking things they could, and then advising him not to
laugh, for fear the bears should seize him. Poor Doughty, agonizing
between suppressed laughter and growing fear, contrived to lie still
however, while the bears gazed upward at the speakers in wonder, and
alternately at the suspicious looking bundle inside the fort. Not being
able to make out the meaning of either, they gave at last a grunt of
dissatisfaction, and ran off into a thicket to consult over these
strange appearances; leaving the trappers to enjoy the incident as a
very good joke. For a long time after, Doughty was reminded how close to
the ground he laid, when the grizzlys paid their compliments to him.
Such were the every day incidents from which the mountain-men contrived
to derive their rude jests, and laughter-provoking reminiscences.
A few days after this incident, while the same party were trapping a few
miles farther down the river, on their way to camp, they fell in with
some Delaware Indians, who said they had discovered signs of Blackfeet,
and wanted to borrow some horses to decoy them. To this the trappers
very willingly agreed, and they were furnished with two horses. The
Delawares then went to the spot where signs had been discovered, and
tying the horses, laid flat down on the ground near them, concealed by
the grass or willows. They had not long to wait before a Blackfoot was
seen stealthily advancing through the thicket, confident in the belief
that he should gain a couple of horses while their supposed owners were
busy with their traps.
But just as he laid his hand on the bridle of the first one, crack went
the rifles of the Delawares, and there was one less Blackfoot thief on
the scent after trappers. As soon as they could, after this, the party
mounted and rode to camp, not stopping by the way, lest the main body of
Blackfeet should discover the deed and seek for vengeance. Truly
indeed, was the Blackfoot the Ishmael of the wilderness, whose hand was
against every man, and every man's hand against him.
The Rocky Mountain Company passed the first part of the winter in peace
and plenty in the Yellowstone camp, unannoyed either by enemies or
rivals. Hunting buffalo, feeding their horses, playing games, and
telling stories, occupied the entire leisure of these months of repose.
Not only did the mountain-men recount their own adventures, but when
these were exhausted, those whose memories served them rehearsed the
tales they had read in their youth. Robinson Crusoe and the Arabian
Nights Entertainment, were read over again by the light of memory; and
even Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress was made to recite like a sensation
novel, and was quite as well enjoyed.
1836. In January, however, this repose was broken in upon by a visit
from the Blackfeet. As their visitations were never of a friendly
character, so then they were not bent upon pacific rites and ceremonies,
such as all the rest of the world find pleasure in, but came in full
battle array to try their fortunes in war against the big camp of the
whites. They had evidently made great preparation. Their warriors
numbered eleven hundred, got up in the top of the Blackfoot fashions,
and armed with all manner of savage and some civilized weapons. But
Bridger was prepared for them, although their numbers were so
overwhelming. He built a fort, had the animals corraled, and put himself
on the defensive in a prompt and thorough manner. This made the
Blackfeet cautious; they too built forts of cotton-wood in the shape of
lodges, ten men to each fort, and carried on a skirmishing fight for two
days, when finding there was nothing to be gained, they departed,
neither side having sustained much loss; the whites losing only two men
by this grand Blackfoot army.
Soon after this attack Bridger broke camp, and traveled up the
Yellowstone, through the Crow country. It was while on this march that
Umentucken was struck by a Crow, and Meek put the whole camp in peril,
by shooting him. They passed on to the Big Horn and Little Horn rivers,
down through the Wind River valley and through the South Pass to Green
River.
While in that country, there occurred the fight with the Bannacks in
which Umentucken was killed. A small party of Nez Perces had lost their
horses by the thieving of the Bannacks. They came into camp and
complained to the whites, who promised them their protection, should
they be able to recover their horses. Accordingly the Nez Perces started
after the thieves, and by dogging their camp, succeeded in re-capturing
their horses and getting back to Bridger's camp with them. In order to
divert the vengeance of the Bannacks from themselves, they presented
their horses to the whites, and a very fine one to Bridger.
All went well for a time. The Bannacks went on their way to hunt
buffalo; but they treasured up their wrath against the supposed white
thieves who had stolen the horses which they had come by so honestly. On
their return from the hunt, having learned by spies that the horses were
in the camp of the whites, they prepared for war. Early one morning they
made their appearance mounted and armed, and making a dash at the camp,
rode through it with the usual yells and frantic gestures. The attack
was entirely unexpected. Bridger stood in front of his lodge, holding
his horse by a lasso, and the head chief rode over it, jerking it out of
his hand. At this unprecedented insult to his master, a negro named Jim,
cook to the Booshways, seized a rifle and shot the chief dead. At the
same time, an arrow shot at random struck Umentucken in the breast, and
the joys and sorrows of the Mountain Lamb were over forevermore.
The killing of a head chief always throws an Indian war party into
confusion, and negro Jim was greatly elated at this signal feat of his.
The trappers, who were as much surprised at the suddenness of the
assault as it is in the mountain-man's nature to be, quickly recovered
themselves. In a few moments the men were mounted and in motion, and the
disordered Bannacks were obliged to fly towards their village, Bridger's
company pursuing them.
All the rest of that day the trappers fought the Bannacks, driving them
out of their village and plundering it, and forcing them to take refuge
on an island in the river. Even there they were not safe, the guns of
the mountain-men picking them off, from their stations on the river
banks. Umentucken was well avenged that day.
All night the Indians remained on the island, where sounds of wailing
were heard continually; and when morning came one of their old women
appeared bearing the pipe of peace. "You have killed all our warriors,"
she said; "do you now want to kill the women? If you wish to smoke with
women, I have the pipe."
Not caring either to fight or to smoke with so feeble a representative
of the Bannacks, the trappers withdrew. But it was the last war party
that nation ever sent against the mountain-men; though in later times
they have by their atrocities avenged the losses of that day.
While awaiting, in the Green River valley, the arrival of the St. Louis
Company, the Rocky Mountain and North American companies united; after
which Captain Sublette and his brother returned no more to the
mountains. The new firm was known only as the American Fur Company, the
other having dropped its title altogether. The object of their
consolidation was by combining their capital and experience to
strengthen their hands against the Hudson's Bay Company, which now had
an establishment at Fort Hall, on the Snake River. By this new
arrangement, Bridger and Fontenelle commanded; and Dripps was to be the
traveling partner who was to go to St. Louis for goods.
After the conclusion of this agreement, Dripps, with the restlessness of
the true mountain-man, decided to set out, with a small party of equally
restless trappers, always eager to volunteer for any undertaking
promising either danger or diversion, to look for the St. Louis Company
which was presumed to be somewhere between the Black Hills and Green
River. According to this determination Dripps, Meek, Carson, Newell, a
Flathead chief named Victor, and one or two others, set out on the
search for the expected company.
It happened, however, that a war party of a hundred Crows were out on
the trail before them, looking perhaps for the same party, and the
trappers had not made more than one or two camps before they discovered
signs which satisfied them of the neighborhood of an enemy. At their
next camp on the Sandy, Meek and Carson, with the caution and vigilance
peculiar to them, kept their saddles on their horses, and the horses
tied to themselves by a long rope, so that on the least unusual motion
of the animals they should be readily informed of the disturbance. Their
precaution was not lost. Just after midnight had given place to the
first faint kindling of dawn, their ears were stunned by the
simultaneous discharge of a hundred guns, and the usual furious din of
the war-whoop and yell. A stampede immediately took place of all the
horses excepting those of Meek and Carson. "Every man for himself and
God for us all," is the motto of the mountain-man in case of an Indian
attack; nor did our trappers forget it on this occasion. Quickly
mounting, they put their horses to their speed, which was not checked
until they had left the Sandy far behind them. Continuing on in the
direction of the proposed meeting with the St. Louis Company, they made
their first camp on the Sweetwater, where they fell in with Victor, the
Flathead chief, who had made his way on foot to this place. One or two
others came into camp that night, and the following day this portion of
the party traveled on in company until within about five miles of
Independence Rock, when they were once more charged on by the Indians,
who surrounded them in such a manner that they were obliged to turn back
to escape.
Again Meek and Carson made off, leaving their dismounted comrades to
their own best devices. Finding that with so many Indians on the trail,
and only two horses, there was little hope of being able to accomplish
their journey, these two lucky ones made all haste back to camp. On
Horse Creek, a few hours travel from rendezvous, they came up with
Newell, who after losing his horse had fled in the direction of the main
camp, but becoming bewildered had been roaming about until he was quite
tired out, and on the point of giving up. But as if the Creek where he
was found meant to justify itself for having so inharmonious a name, one
of their own horses, which had escaped from the Crows was found quietly
grazing on its banks, and the worn out fugitive at once remounted.
Strange as it may appear, not one of the party was killed, the others
returning to camp two days later than Meek and Carson, the worse for
their expedition only by the loss of their horses, and rather an
unusually fatigued and forlorn aspect.
[Illustration: "INDIANS BY JOVE!"]