^ i CO / "- c/o s "i lA LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY OF THE 0 bisNSW^ C/3 i OF CALIFORNIA I LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA S / C»0 Y OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA CX3 yu^^AAA^ yK^^"^^^^^ ^<:>9 ROCKY MOUNTAIN LIFE OR, s^asiiJCLHSis mmm AND PERILOUS ADYENTURES IN THE FAE WEST, DURING AN EXPEDITION OP THREE YEARS. BY RUFUS B. SAGE. '. .'"'t^" i „-^ o -; « . . o • 1^ -^ -' BOSTON : WENTWORTH Sc COMPANY, 86 WASHINGTON STREET. 1857. >-- ^ ^ h ,^%S■/ Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by WENTWORTII & COMPANY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. ' « • ,» . . . I . , » * i ' • ' . •■ »" • , . • < • • ' , - . PRE EAC E. The following work was written immediately after the author had returned from the perilous and event- ful expedition which is here narrated. The intense interest which every citizen of the Union feels in relation to that vast region of our country lying between the Mississippi and the Pacific Ocean, will, it is believed, render the publication of a volume like this of more than usual importance at the present time. The lofty cliifs of the Rocky Mountains are soon to echo to the tread of advancing civilization, as symbolized in the Pacific railway, which will, in a few years, speed the iron horse and his living freight from Boston to San Francisco, forming a bond of social and commercial intercourse across the con- tinent. M194955 CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Objects of a proposed excursion. Primary plans and movements. A Digression, Rendezvous for Oregon emigrants and Santa Fe traders. Sensations on a firet visit to the border Prairies. Frontier Indians. 29 CHAPTER II. Preparations for leaving. Scenes at Ca.n^.p. Things as they appeared. Simpli- city of mountaineers. Sleep in the open air. Character, habits, and costume of mountaineers. Heterogeneous ingredients of Compaiiy. The command- ant. En route. Comical exhibition and adventure with a Spanish compa- ny. Grouse. Elm Grove. A storm. Santa Fe traders. Indian battle. 34 CHAPTER III. The Pottowatomies. Crossing the Wakarouslia. Adventure at t!ie Springs. The Caw chief. Kansas river and Indians. Pleading for wlii^key. Hick- ory timber. Pniirie tea. Scenes at the N. Fork of Blue. Wild honey. Return party. iMountaineers in i'aiifornia. y^d venture with a biuFah). In- dian atrocities. [.i:iUor and the Fur Trade. Strict guard. Hi^h prices. 45 CHAPTER iV. Country from the frontiers to Big Blue ; its geological character, &:c. Novel cure for fever and ague. Indian trails. Game. Large rabbits. Antelope, and their peculiarities. Beaver cuttings. Big Blue and its vicinity. Dangerous coimtry. Pawnee bravery. Night-alarm, (Prairies on fire.) Platte river. Predominant characteristics of the Grand Pi-airies, and theory expUmative of of their phenomenon. Sometliing to laugli at. " Big Jim " and the ante- lope. '54 CHAPTER V. Deserted camp. Big .Tim's third attempt as a hunter. Buffilo and other particu- lars. Big Jim lying guard. Bnlchering. StraniTe selections. F.xtraordi- nary eating, and excellence cf butralo meat. Braly's I.dand. The mur- derer's fate. Substitute for wood. A storm, (ianie in camp. Strange infatuation. Tenacity o{ bulTalo to life, and haw to hunt them. Cross S. Fork of Platte. Big Jim's fourth adventure. 63 (7) viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. Ash creek. Pawnee ami Sioux battle-ground. Bread-root. Tlie Eagle's Nest. Mad wolf. Number and variety of prairie wolves, — their sagacity. Mad bull. Making and curing meat. Big Jim slill unfortunate. Johnson's creek. McFarlan's Castle. Decepliveness of disUmces. Express from the Fort. Brave Bear. Bull Tail. Talk with the Indians. Speech of Marto-cog- ershne. lleply. Tahtungah-sana's address. 7-3 CHAPTER VII. The Chimney. Abet. Spur of the Rocky Mountain?. Scott's BlufT. Roman- tic scenery. 3Iimic city. A pyramid. Amoautucnt. An elevated garden. Mountain sheep. An Eden. Death in camp. The wanderer's grave. Horse creek and gold. Goche's hole. Arrival at Fort I'latte. Remarks by the way. Prairie travel. liOcality and description of the Fort. Indian lodges. iVIigratory habits of mountain and prairie tribes. Scenes at Fort. Drunken Indians. Tragical event. Indian funeral. Sfx;ech of Etespa- huska on the death of his father. 90 CHAPTER Vin. Coast clear, and Trade opened. More visitors. Smoking out the natives. Inci- dent illustrative of Indian cliaracter. Expeditions for trade. Black Hills. Rawhide. An Indian and a buffalo chase. Deep snow, extreme cold, and painful journey. L'eau-qui-court. Remarks. Lost. Wlute river ; its val- ley, fruits, and game. Building site. The Devil's Tea-pot. Troubles with Indians. Theft and its punishment. Indian .soldiers. Christmas extras. Outrageous conduct. Rascality of traders. " That Old Serpent." Indian superstition, religious tenets and practices. Notions upon general morality. 103 CHAPTER IX. Dangers connected with the liquor trade. Difficulty with Bull Eagle. Scenes of bloodshed ond horror. Cheating in the fur trade. How the red man becomes tutored in vice. A chief's daughter offered in exchange for liquor. Indian mode of courtship and marriage. Squaws an article of traflic. Di- vorce. PlurUity of wives. 116 CHAPTER X. Tahtunga-egoniska, High gaming. Weur-sena Warkpollo, a strange story. The Death Song, a tale of love. I\Iedicine-men. Extraordinary perform- ance of Tahtunga-mobellu. Wonderful feats of jugglery. 125 CHAPTER XI. Food for horses. Squaws and their performances. Dogs and dog-meat. Re- turn to Fort. Starvation. Travel by guess. Death from drinking. Medi- cine-making. A Burial. Little Lodge and the French trader. A speech CONTENTS. IX in council. Journey to White river. High winds and snow. Intense suf- ferings and painful result-'*. 135 CHAPTER XII. Anotht't drunken spree. Horses devoured by wolves. An upset. A blowing up. Daring feat of wolves. A girl offered for liquor. Winter on the Platte. Boat building. Hunting expedition. Journey up tlie Platte. Island camp. Narrow escape. Snowstorm. Warm Spring. Pass of the Platte into" the prairies. A valley. Bitter Cottonwood. Indian forts. Wild fruit. Root digging. Cherry tea and its uses. Geology of the country. Soils, grasses, herbs, plants, and purity of atmospiiere. IIur^e-^hc)e (•rotik. A panther. Prairie dogs and their peculiarities. 143 CHAPTER XIII. The Creek valley. The Platte as a mountain stream. Canon. Rojuautic pros* pect. Comical bear story. Perilous encounter with a wounded bull. Ge- ological remarks. Division of party. Safety of spring travel. La Bonte's creek, llemarks by the way. Service-berry. Deer Creek. CJeneral observations. Moccasin making. Box elder. Bear killed. Excellence of its flesh. Different kinds of bears in Oregon and tlie mountains. The grizzly bear, his nature and habits. 150 CHAPTER XIV. Desperate encounter with a grizzly bear, and extraordinary instance of suffering. Close contest. A comical incident. Cross Platte. Canon camp. Sage trees. Mountain sheep, and all about them. Independence Rock ; why so called, and description of it. Devil's Gate. Landscape scenery. 159 CHAPTER XV. Return route. Oregon trail from Independence Rock through the South Pass. Cross the Sweet Water and Platte. Mountain Fowl. Journey up 3Iedicine Bow. Dangerous country. A fight with the Sioux. The " Carcague." A surprise. Visit to the Crow village. Number and character of the Crow nation. Selling a prisoner for tobacco. Description of Laramie Plains. 165 CHAPTER XVI. Sibille's-hole. Novel bitters. Chugwater. Gold. Curiosity. Affairs at the Fort. Amusements. Gambling among squaws, and games played. Squaw dresses, and riding fashion. Items of interest to the curious, proving the in- tercourse of the ancient Romans with the people of this continent. 178 CHAPTER XVII. Singular exhibition of natural affection. Embark for the States. Scarcity cf provisions and consequent hardship and suffering. Extraordinary daring of CONTENTS. wolves. DifTicullies uf navi;;:itioii. Novel diet. Fishing. A fish story, and another to matoli it. A bull story. Ifiird aground utid dismal situaiion. Extreme expo<-ure. Cold, hungry, ;ind vvcl. Again afloat. Re-supply of provisions. Camp on fire. \ picaire of Platte navigation. Country north of river, .idveiiturv.^ v.ith a hull. Indian l)enevolence. Summary of liard- shijis and deprivations. Abandon voyage. i°^ CHAPTER XVIII. Hunting excursion. Tliirst more painful than hunger. Geological oljservations. Mournful casually. Sad scene of sepulture. 3IeIancholy night. Voyage in an empty boar. Knins cf a Pawnee village ai Cedar Cluff Plover creek. Cache Grove. Thousand Islands. Abandon boat. Exploring Cfira- pany. A horrible situation. Agony to l.')nnr;iit. P.iv.nee village. Exem- plary benevolence of an Indian rliief. Miserable fov.rth of .liily. Four day.-i' starvation. Arrival at Council Clnff. Proceed to ]ndependen ; Government ; it.s luii nnUtary Si,. ?./igih. llemarks. 239 CHAPTER XXiY. Visitors at Uintah. Adventures of a trapping \,iuiy. The Munchies, or white Indian.-J ; some account of them. Anm^eme;its at rendezvous. 3Iysteriot"»s city, and attempts at its exploration, — speculaiion relative to its inhabitants. Leave for Fort Hail. Camp at Bear river. Boundary between the U. States and Mexico. Green valleys, d:c. ("ountry en route. Provvn's-hole. Geological observadoiit.. Soda, Peer, and Steamboat springs ; tlieir peculi- arities. Minerals. Valley of Bear river; its lertility, limber, and abun- dance oi wild friut. liui^alo berries, bupeiior advantages of tliis section, inline ral tar. 250 CHAPTER XXV. * Fort Hall; its history, and locality. lnfonnati(;n relative to Oregon. Bound- xu CONTENTS. aries and extent of the territory. Its rivers and lakes, with a concise descrip- tion of them severally. Abundance and ^-ariety of fish and water-fowl. Harbors and islands. Oregon as a whole ; its mountains and geographical divisions. Eastern Divison ; its wild scenery, valleys, soil, and timber ; volcanic ravages; country between Clarke's river and the Columbia. North of the Columbia; its general character. Middle Division ; its valleys, prai- ries, highlands, and forests. Western Division ; a beautiful country ; ex- tensive valleys of extraordinary fertility ; productive plains ; abumlance of timber, its astonishing size and variety. A brief summary of facts. 25S CHAPTER XXVI. Climate of Oregon ; its variableness ; its rains ; a southern climate in a north* ern latitude. Productiveness ; grain, fruits, and flowers, wild and culti- vated. Geological characteristics. Soils and prevailing rock. Minerals, &c. Variety of game. Wolves. Horses, and other domestic animals. Population, white and native ; Indian tribes, their character and condition. Missionary stations, and their improvements. Present trade of Oregon. Posts of the Hudson Bay Company. Settlements. Oregon City, its situa- tion and advantages; about Linnton ; about Wallammette valley, Fualitine plains and Umpqua river ; Vancouvre, and its superior advantages. Kmd- ness of Hudson Bay Company to settlers. 269 CHAPTER XVII. The manufacturing facilities of Oregon. Commercial and agricultural advan- tages reviewed, llail Road to the Pacific. Route, mode of travelling, and requisite equipment for emigrants. Importance of Oregon to the United States. Incident in the early history of Fort Hall. Why the Blackfeet are hostile, and bright spots in their character. Mild weather. Leave for the Platte. Journey to the Yampah, and sketch of the intermediate country. New Park. Head of Grand river. The landscape. Different routes to Fort Lancaster. Old Park. 277 CHAPTER XXVm. From Grand river to Bayou Salade. Observations by the way. Description of the Bayou. Voracity of magpies. Journey to Cherry creek. Country en route. Crystal creek. Abundance of game. Antelope hunting. Remark- able sagacity of wolves. Snow storms and amusement. Ravenn. Move camp. Comfortable winter quarters. Animal food conducive to general health and longevity. A laughable instance of sound sleeping. Astonish- ing wolfine rapacity. Beaver lodges and all about beaver. Hunting excur- sion. Vasques' creek, its valleys, table lands, mountains, and prairies. Camp. Left alone. Sensations, and care to avoid danger. A nocturnal visitor. Thrilling adventure and narrow escape. A lofty specimen of "gettin down stairs." Geological statistics. 287 CONTENTS. xiii CHAPTER XXIX. Return to the Fort. Texan recruiting officer. New plans. Volunteer. The Chance Shot, or Special Providence. Texan camp. Country contiguous to the Arkansas, from Fontaine qui Bouit to the Rio de las Animas. Things at rendezvous. A glance at the company. Disposal of force. March up the de las Animas. The country ; Timpa valley, and its adjoining hills, to the de las Animas. The latter stream ; its canon, valley and enchanting scenery. Tedious egress. Unparalleled suffering from hunger, toU, and. cold. Wolf flesh and buffalo hide. Painful consequences of eating cacti. A feast of mule meat after seven days' starvation. Camp at the Taos trail. The adjacent country. Strict guard. A chase. The meet reward for treason. « 300 CHx\PTER XXX. March down the Cimarone. Junction of the two divisions. Country between the de las Animas and the Cimarone. Perilous descent. Caiion of the Cimarone. Soil and prevailing rock. A fort. Grandeur and sublimity of scenery. Beauty of rocks. Cimarone of the pam. Fruits and game. Wide- spread desolation. A dreary country. Summer on the Desert. Remarks. Encounter with Indians. Nature's nobleman. W^ild horses and different modes of catching them. Failure of expected reinforcements. March into the enemy's country. Ancient engravings upon a rock. Boy in the wolf's den. A man lost. Forced march. Torment of thirst. Remarks. The lost found. Expulsion for cowardice, — its effect. 309 CHAPTER XXXI. Mexican camp. Pursuit. Advance upon Mora. Enemy discovered. Coun- try between the Rio de las Animas and Mora ; its picturesque beauty. Ad- mirable point of observation. Fortified position. Battle of the pass ; order of attack, passage of the river, storming the enemy's camp, and number of killed, wounded and prisoners. Council of war. Prisoners released. Message to Amijo. Return march. Mexican anny. Attacked, and results of action. Mexican bravery. Retreat. Cross the Table 3Iomitain. New species of wild onions. March down the de las Animas. Discouragements accumulate. Disband. Sketch cf factions. Texan prisoners. Arrival of reinforcements. Battle of the Arroyo: killed, wounded, and prisoners. Retreat of Amijo. " Stampede." Frightful encounter with the Cumanches and Kuyawas. Discharge of troops. Affair with Capt. Cook. Surrender to U. S. Dragoons, and failure of expedition. Return to Texas. Journey to the Platte. Country between the Arkansas and Beaver creek. Feasting at camp. Crows' eggs. Lateness of season. Snow-storm in June. An Indian fort. Serio-comico adventure with a wolf. Indians. Song of the night-bird. 318 2 xiT CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXXII. Lost. Night on the Prairie. Head of the Kansas river. 3Jiiierals. Country. Gold. Wonderful incident rehitive to a wounded bull. Indians. Join the A.rap.ahos. Moving village. Country between Beaver creek and the Platte. Canon. Reach Fort Lancaster. Fortune bettered. News from the States. Murder. Extraordinary instances of human tenacity to life. Arrival of Indians. Theft. Chyenne outrage. Return of Oregon emigrants. " Old Bob," and his adventures. A " Protracted Meeting," or Indian 3Iedicine- making. Indian oath. Jaunt to the mountains. Mountain scenery. Camp on Thompson's creek. Wild fruits. Concentration of valleys. Romantic ■"lew. A gem in the mountains. Grand river pass. Salt lakes. Aston- ishing scope of vision. The black-tailed deer. Peculiarity in horses. Re- markable natural fortification. Return. Travelling by guess. ' 031 CHAPTER XXXIII. Newspapers. False reports. Singular grasses. Sale of skins at Fort Lancaster. An excursion. An incident. Camp. Huge horns. Leopard. Panther. Slaughter of eagles. Dressing skins. The hunter's camp. Vasques' creek. The weather. Return of comrades to Fort. Sweets of solitude. Expo- sure in a snow-storm. Tlie canon of S. Fork Platte. A ridge. A val- ley. Beautiful locality. Clioice site for a settlement. Flowers in February. A hunting incident. Fate of the premature flowers. Adventure with a sheep. Discovered by Indians. A pleasant meeting. Camp at Crystal creek. Thoughts of home. Resolve on going. Commence journey. The caravan. " Big Timber." Country to the " Crossing." Big Salt Bottom. Flowers. A stranger of other lands. DifTiculty witli Indians. " Friday." Tedious travelling. No timber. Detention. Country. Pawnee Fork. Mountain and Spanish companies. Spy Buck, the Shawnee war-chief. Pawnee Fork. — Cure for a rattlesnake's bite. Further detention. Sketch of adjacent country. Pawnee Rocks. En route with Friday. Musquetoes. Observations. Friday as a liunter. 346 CHAPTER XXXIV. Thft Arapaho American, a sketch of real life. Tenets of the mountain Indians in i*eference to a futuie state of rewards and pu)iidunents. The "water bull." Country between Cow creek and Council Grove. Inviting locatity for settlement. Sudileit rise of water. Separate routes. Dangerous travel- ling. Osage village. Osages, and all about them. Arrival at Van Buren, Arkansas. Concluding remarks. 357 o a > O O P. (2. o *(4 o a o ,",! Ill ii'iir" III I. ■■ I! , , »il,'J/'l,ii'iMl' 111 • 5 J \ J 3 J ) 1 ■> ) J > > EOCKY MOUNTAIN LIFE. CHAPTER I Objects of a proposed excursion. — Primary plans and movements. — .\ digression Rendezvous for Oreg(m emigrants and Santa Fe traders. — Sensations on a firsl visit to tlie border Prairies. — Frontier Indians. My purpose in visiting the Rocky Mountains, and countries adjacent, having hitherto proved a Iruitful source of inquiry to the many persons 1 meet, wlien aware of my iiaving devoted three years to travel in those remote regions, and 1 am so plied with almost numberless other questions, I know of no better way to dispose of them satisfactorily, than by doing what I had thought of at the outset, to wit : writing a book. But, says one, more books have been already written upon subjects of a kiiidred nature, tlian will ever find readers. True, indeed ; yet I must venture one more ; and this much I promise at the start : it shall be different, in most respects, from all that have preceded it ; and if I fail to produce an agreeable variety of adventures, interwoven with a large fund of valuable information, then I shall not have accomplished my purpose. Yet, 'why did I go? — what was my object?' Let me explain: Dame Nature bestowed upon me lavishly that innate curiosity, and fondness for things strange and new, of which every one is more or less possessed. Phrenologists would declare my organ of Inquisitiveness to be larirely developed ; and, certain it is, 1 have a great liking to tread upon unfre- quented ground, and mingle among scenes at once novel and romantic. Love of adventure, then, was the great prompter-, while an enfeebled state of health sensibly admonished mo to seek in other parts tliat invigorating air and -climate denied by the diseased atmosphere of a populous countr/. I also wished to acquaint myself witli the geography of those comparatively unexplored regions, — their geological character, curiosities, resources, and natural advantages, together with tJieir real condition, present inhabitants, inducements \g emigrants, and most favorable localities lor settlements, to enable me tc speak from personal knowledge upon subjects so interesting to the public ^jiind, at the present time, as are tlie above. Here, then, were 3 * (29- 30 RENDEZVOUS OF OREGON EMIGRANTS. objects every way worthy of attention, and vested with an importance that would render my excursion not a mere idle jaunt for the gratification of selfish curiosity. This much by way of prelude, — now to the task in hand. While yet undecided as to the most advisable mode of prosecuting my intended enterprise, on learning that a party of adventurers were rendez- voused at Westport, Mo., preparatory to their long and arduous journey to y the new-formed settlements of the Columbia river, I hastened to ttiat place, where I arrived in the month of iMay, 1S41, with the design of becoming one of their number. In this, however, I was doomed to disap])ointment by being too late. A few weeks subsequent marked the return of several fur companies, from their annual excursions to the Indian tribes inliabiting the regions adjacent to the head-waters of the Platte and Arkansas rivers, whose outward trips are performed in the fall months. Impatient at delay and despairing of a more eligible opportunity, for at least some time to come, I made prompt arrangements with one of them, to accompany it, en route^ as far as the Rocky Mountains, intending to proceed thereafter as circum- stances or inclination might suggest. This plan of travelling was adhered to, notwithstanding the detention of some three months, which retarded its prosecution. I would here beg indulgence of the reader to a seeming digression. The peculiar locality of the places to whose vicinity he is now introduced, owing to the deep interest cherished in the public mind relative to the Oregon coun- try, will doubtless call for more than a mere passing notice : I allude to the towns of Independence and Westport. Situated as they are, at the utmost verge of civilization, and upon the direct route to Oregon and regions adja- cent, they must retain and command, as the great starting points for emigrants and traders, that importance already assiimed by general consent. Their facilities of access from all parts of the Union, both by land and water, are nowhere exceeded. The proud Missouri rolls its turbid waves within sL\ mile of either place, opening the highway of steam communication, while numberless prime roads that converge froui every direction, point to them as their common focus. Thus, the staid New Englander may exchange his na- tive hills for the frontier prairies in the short interval of two weeks ; and in half that time the citizen of the sunny South may reach the appointed ren- dezvous ; and, nearer by, the hardy emigrant may commence his long over- land journey, from his own door, fully supplied with all the necessaries for its successful termination. Independence is the seat of justice for Jackson county. Mo., about four hundred miles west by north of St. Louis, and contains a population of nearly two thousand. Westport is a small town in the same county, near the mouth of the Kansas river, — three miles from the Indian territory, and thirty below the U. S. Dragoon station at Fort Leavenworth. The regular routes to Santa Fe and Oregon date their commencement at these places. The country in this vicinity is beginning to be generally settled by thrifty farmers, from whom all the articles necessary for travellers and traders, may be procured upon reasonable terms. Starting from either of the above points, a short ride bears the adventurer across the state line, and aflbrds him the opportunity of taking his ini- tiatory les&ons amid the realities of prairie life. Here, most of the trading and emigrant companies remain encamped for several weeks, to recruit > 1« 1 > J ■> 111) ( c c t f ' ( ' e r <■ I ( c r f c King of xjie Siiawnees. — Parrc 33. BORDER-PRAIRIES AND INDIANS. 33 their animals and complete the needful arrangements, prior to undertaking the toilsome and dangerous journey before them. The scenery of tiiis neighborhood is truly delightful. It seems indeed like one Nature's favored spots, where i'lora presides in all her regal splendor, and with the Iragrance of wild flowers, perfumes the breath of spring and lades tlie summer breeze with willing incense ; — now, sport- ing beside her fountains and revelling in her dales, — then, smiling from her hill-tops, or luxurating beneath her groves. I shall never forget the pleasing sensations produced by my first visit to the border-prairies. It was in the month of June, soon after my arrival at Westport, The day was clear and beautiful. A gentle shower the pre- ceding night had purified the atmosphere, and the laughing flowerets, newly invigorated from the nectarine draught, seemed to vie with each other in the exhalation of their sweetest odors. The blushing strawberry, scarce yet divested of its rich burden of fruit, kissed my every step. The butter- cup, tulip, pink, violet, and daisy, with a variety of other beautie-*, unknown to the choicest collections of civilized life, on every side captivated the eye and delighted the fancy. The ground was clothed with luxuriant herbage. The grass, where left uncropped by grazing herds of cattle and horses, had attained a sur- prising growth, 'i'he landscape brouglit within the scope of vision a most magnificent prospect. The groves, clad in their gayest foliage and nodding to the wind, ever and anon, crowned the gentle acclivities or reared their heads from the valleys, as if planted by the hand of art to point the way- farer to Elysian retreats. The gushing fountains, softly breathing their untaught melody, before and on either hand, at short intervals, greeted the ear and tempted the taste. The lark, linnet, and martin, uniting with other feathered songsters, poured forth heir sweetest strains in one grand con- cert, and made the air vocal with their warblings ; and the brown-plumed grouse, witless of the approach of man, till dangerously near, would here and there emerge wellnigh from under foot, and whiz through the air with almost ligiitning speed, leaving me half frightened at her unlooked for presence and sudden exit. Hither and yon, truant bands of horses and cattle, from the less inviting pastures of the settlements, were seen in the distance, cropping the choice herbage before them, or gambolling in all the pride of native freedom. Amid such scenes I delight to wander, and often, at this late day, will my thoughts return, unbidden, to converse with them anew. There is a charm in the loneliness — an enchantment in the solitude — a witching variety in the sameness, that must ever impress the traveller, v.hen, for the first time, he enters within the confines of the great western prairies. One thino- further and I will have done with this digression. Connected with the foregoing, it may not be deemed amiss to say something in relation to the Indian tribes inhabiting the territory adjacent to this common camp- ing-place. The nearest native settlement is some twelve miles distant, and belongs to the Shawnees. This nation numbers in all fourteen or fifteen hundred men, women and children. Their immediate neighbors are the Delawares and Wyandotts, — the former claiming a population of eleven hundred, and the latter, three or four hundred. M^ny connected with these tribes outstrip the nearer whites, in point of civihz.uion and rcfme- 34 PREPARATIONS FOR LEAVING. ment, — excelling them both in honesty and morality, anil all that elevates and ennobles the human character. Their wild habits have become in a great measure subdued by the restraining influences of Christianity, and they themselves transformed into industrious cultivators of the soil, — occu- pying neat mansions vvitii smiling fields around them. Nor are they altogether neglectful of the means of education. The mission schools are generally well attended by ready pupils, in no respect less backward than the moro favored ones of otiier lands. It is not rare even, considering the smallness of their number, to meet among them with persons of liberal education and accomplishments. 'I'heir mode of dress assimilates that of the whites, though, as yet, fashion has made compara- tively but small inroads. The unsopiiisticated eye would find prolific source for amusement in the uncouth appearance of thoir females on public occa- sions. Perchance a gay Indian maiden comes Haunting past, with a huge fur-hat awkwardly placed upon her head, — embanJed by broad strips of figured tin, instead of ribbons, — and ears di;itended witli large flattened rings of silver, reachin;^ to her shoulders; and bore another, solely habited in a long v/oUen under-dress, obtrudes to view, and skips along in all the pride and pomposity of a regular city belle ! Such are sights by no pieans uncommon. These tribes have a regular civil government of their ov»^n, and all laws instituted for the general v/elfare are duly respected. They are, also, be- coming more temperate in their habits, fully convinced that ardent spirits have hitiierto proved the greatest enemy to the red man. The churches of various christain denominations, established among t'iem, are in a flour- ishing condition, and includs witii their members many whose lives of e.xamplary piety adorn their professions. Taken as a whole, the several Indian tribes, occupying this beautiful and fertile section of country, are living witnesses to tiie sofiening and be- nign influences of enlightened christian effort, and furnisli indubitable evidence of the susceptibility of the Aborigine for civilization and im- provement. CHAPTER II. Preparations for leaving.— Scenes at Camp.— Things as they appeared. — Sunplic- ity of mountaineers.— Sleep in the open air.— Character, liabits, and costume of mountaineers. — Heterogeneous ingredients of Company. — The commandant. En route. — Comical exhibition and adventure with a SpanLsh company. Grouse.— Ebn Grove. — A storni. — Santa Fe traders.— Indian battle. After many vexatious delays and disappointments, the time was at length fixed for our departure, and leaving Independance on the 2d of September I proceeded to join the encampment without tlie state line. It was nearly night before I reached my destination, and the camp-fires were already Shawnee Maiden. — Pag-e 34. ti u <> >J. > ' SCENES AT CAMP. 37 lighted, in front of which the officiating cook was busily engaged in prepar- ing the evening repast. To the windward were the dusky forms of ten or fifteen men, — some standing, others sitting a la Turk, and others half- rechning or quietly extended at full length upon the ground, — watching the operative of the culinary department with great seeming interest. Enchairing myself upon a small log, I began to survey the surrounding objects. In the back ground stood four large Connestoga waggons, with ample canvass tops, and one dearborn, all tastefully drawn up in crescent form. To the right a small pyramid-shaped tent, with its snow-white covering, disclosed itself to the eye, and presented an air of comfort. To the left the caravan animals, securely picketed, at regular distances of some fifteen yards apart, occupied an area of several acres. Close at hand a crystal streamlet traced its course, murmuring adown the valley ; and still beyond, a lovely grove waved its branches in the breeze, and contributed its willing mite to enliven and beautify the scene. The camp-fires in front, formed a kind of gateway to a small enclosure, shut in as above described. Here were congregated the company, or at least, that portion of it yet arrived. Some had already spread their easily adjusted couches upon the ground, in readiness for the coming night, and seemed only await- ing supper to forget their cares and troubles in the sweet embrace of sleep. Every thing presented such an air of primitive simplicity not altogether estranged to comfort, I began to think it nowise marvellous that this mode of life should afford such strong attractions to those inured to it. Supper disposed of, the area within camp soon became tenanted by the devotees of slumber, — some snoring away most melodiously, and others conversing in an animated tone, now jovial, now grave, and at intervals, causing the night-air to resound with merry peals of laughter. At length the sleep-god began to assert his wonted supremacy, and silence in some measure reigned throughout camp. The bed of a mountaineer is an article neither complex in its nature nor difficult in its adjustment. A single buflulo robe folded double and spread upon the ground, with a rock, or knoll, or some like substitute for a pillow, furnishes the sole base-work upon which the sleeper reclines, and, envel- oped in an additional blanket or robe, contentedly enjoys his rest. Wishing to initiate myself to the new mode of life before me, I was not slow to imi- tate the example of the promiscuous throng, and the lapse of a few moments found me in a fair way to pass quite pleasantly my first night's repose in the open air. With the first gray of morning I arose refreshed and invigorated, nor even sufliired the slightest ill effect from my unusual exposure to a humid and unwholesome night-air. The whole camp, soon after, began to disclose a scene of cheerfulness and animation. The cattle and horses, unloosed from their fastenings, and accompanied by keepers, were again permitted to roam at large, and in a short time were most industriously engaged in administering to the calls of appetite. A^lter breakfast I improved tiie opportunity to look about and scan more closely the appearance of my compagnons de voyage. This opened to view a new field for the study of men and manners. A mountain company generally comprises some quaint specimens of human nature, and, periiaps, few more so than the one to which I her© 4 \ 38 CHARACTER AND COSTUME OF MOUNTAINEERS. introduce the reader. To particularize would exceed my limit-, nor could I do full justice to the subject in hand by dealing in generalities ; — how- ever, I yield to the latter. There are many crude originals mixed with the prime ingredients of these companies. A genaiue mountaineer is a problem hard to solve. He seems a kind of sui genus, an oddity, both in dres.^, language, and appearance, from the rest of mankind. Associated with nature in her most simple forms by habit and manner of life, he gradually learns to despise the restraints of civilization, and assimilates himself to the rude and unpolished character of the scenes with which he is most conversant. Frank and open in his manners and generous in his disposition, he is, at the same time, cautious and reserved. In his frankness he will allow no one to acquire an undue advantage of him, though in his generosity, he will oftentimes expend the last cent to assist a fellow in need. Implacable in his hatred, he is also steadfast in his friendship, and knows no sacrifice too great for the benefit of those he esteems. Free as the pure air he breathes, and proudly conscious of his own indcpcnJonce, he will neither tyrannize over others, nor submit to be trampled upon, — and is always prepared to meet the perils he may chance to encounter, v/ith an undaunted front. Inured to hardship and deprivation, his wants are few, and he is the last to repine at the misfortunes which so often befall him. Patience becomes as it were interwoven with his very nature, and he sub- mits to the greatest disasters without a murmur. His pov/ers of endurance, from frequent exorcise, attain a strength and capacity almost incredible, — such as are altogether unknown to the more delicately nurtured. His is a txade, to become master of which requires a long and faithful apprentice- ship. Of this none seems more conscious than himself, and woe to the *' greenliorn" who too prematurely assumes to be "journeyman." His ideas, his arguments, his illustrations, all partake of the unpolished sim- plicity of his associations ; though abounding often in the most vivid imagery, pointed inferences, and luminous expositions, they need a key to' make them intelligible to the novice. His dress and appearance are equally singular. His skin, from cons I ant exposure, assumes a hue almost as dark as that of the Aborigine, and his features and physical structure attain a rough and hardy cast. His hair, through inattention, becomes long, coarse, and busily, and loosely dangles upon his shoulders. His head is surmounted by a low crowned wool-hat, or a rude substitute of his own manufacture. His clothes are of buckskin, gaily fringed at the seams with strings of the same material, cut and made in a fashion peculiar to himself and asso- ciates. The deer and buflalo furnish him the required covering for his feet, which he fabricates at the impulse of want. His waist is encircled with a belt of leather, holding encased liis butcher-knife and pistols — while from his neck is suspended a bullet-pouch securely fastened to the belt in front, and beneath the riirht arm hangs a powder-horn transversely from his shoulder, behind which, upon the strap attached to it, are affixed his bullet- mould, ball-screw, wiper, awl, &c. With a gun-stick made of some hard wood, and a good rifle placed in his hands, carrying from thirty to thirty-five balls to tiie pound, the reader will have before him a correct like- ness of a genuine mountaineer, when fully equipped. This costume prevails not only in the mountains proper, but also in the THE COMMANDANT. 39 less settled portions of Oregon and California. The mountaineer is his own manufacturer, tailor, shoemaker, and butcher; and, fully accoutred and sup- plied with ammunition in a good game country, he can always feed and clothe himself, and enjoy all the comforts his situation affords. No wonder, then, his proud spirit, expanding with the intuitive knowledge of noble inde- pendence, becomes devotedly attached to those regions and habits that per- mit him to stalk forth, a sovereign amid nature's lovliest works. Our company, however, were not all mountaineers ; some w-ere only " entered apprentices," and others mere " greenhorns " — taking every thino- mto consideration, perhaps, it was quite as agreeably composed as circum- stances would well admit of. In glancing over the crowd, I remarked several countenances sinister and malign, but consented to suspend judg- ment till the character of each should be proven by his conduct. Hence, in the succeeding pages, I shall only speak of characters as 1 have occa- sion to speak of men. As a whole, the party before me presented a choice collection of local varieties, — here was the native of France, of Canada, of England, of Hudson Bay, of Connecticut, of Pennsylvania, of New York, of Kentucky, of Illinois, of Missouri, and of the Rocky Mountains, all congregated to act in unison for a specilied purpose. It m'ght well require the pencil of Hogarth to picture such a motley group. Our company had not as yet attained its full numercial strength ; a small division of it was some distance in advance, another behind, and at least two days would be necessary to complete the arrangements prior to leaving. The idea of spending two days in camp, notwithstanding tlie beauty of its location, was by no means agreeable ; but as the case was beyond remedy, I quietly submitted, and managed to while away the tedious interval as best I could. A brief acquaintance with our commandant, found him a man of small stature and gentlemanly deportment, though savoring somewhat of arro- gance and self-sufficiency, — faults, by the way, not uncommon in little men. He had been engc ged in the Indian trade for several years past, and had seen many " ups and downs" in former life. Graduating from West Point in his younger days, he soon after received the commission of Lieutenant of Dragoons, in the U. S. Army, and served in that capacity for some six or eight years, on the frontier and at Forts Gibson and Leaven- worth. Possessed of the confidence of his men, his subsequent resignation was the occasion of much regret with those he had been accustomed to command. The private soldier loved him for his generous frankness and readiness to overlook minor offences, even upon the first show of peni- tence. Such unbounded popularity at length excited the jealousy of his brother officers, and gave birth to a combination against him. whicli notliing could appease short of his removal from the army. Aware of his ardent tem- perament and strong party notions as a politician, and equally violent upon the opposite side, they managed to inveigle him into a discussion of the measures and plans of the then administration of national affairs. Argu- ing in the excitement of feeling, he made use of an unguarded expression, denouncing the Chief Magistrate. This was immediately noted dovra, and charges were promptly preferred against him, for " abuse of a superior oQicerT The a hole aiiair was then retierred to a Court Martial, composed 40 COmCAL APPEARANCE OF A MEXICAN COMPANY. exclusively of political opponents. The evidence was so strong he had little to expect from their liancis, and consequently threw up his commission, to avert the disgrace of being cashiered, since whicli lie has been engaged in his present business. He appeared to be a man of general information, and well versed in science and literature. Indeed, I felt highly gratified in making an acquain- tance so far congenial to my own taste. An accession of two waggons and four men having completed our number, tlie morning of September 4th was usiiered in with the din of preparations for an immediate start. The lading of the waggons was then severally overhauled and more compactly adjusted, and our arms were dcpoo- ited witii other freight until such time as circumstances should call ior them. All was hurry and confusion, and ofttimes the sharp tone of angry dispute arose above the jargon of the tumultuous throng. At length the word was given to advance, and in an instant the whole caravan was in motion ; these disconnected with the waggons, mounted upon horseback, led the van, followed by the teams and their attendants in Indian tile, as the loose cattle and horses brought up the rear. The scene to me portrayed a novelty quite amusing. I began to think a more comical- looking set could scarcely be Ibund any where ; but the events of the day soon convinced me of my mistake. Travelling leisurely along ibr some six or eight miles, strange objects were seen m the distance, which," on nearer approach, proved a company of Mexican traders, on their way to Independence for an equipment of goods. As they filed past us, I had lull scope for the exercise of my risibilities. If a mountaineer and a mountain company are laughable objects, a Mexican and a Mexican company are triply so. The first thing that excites attention upon mee.ing one of this mongrel race, is his ludicrous apology for pantaloons. This is generally made of deer or bulllilo skin, similar to our present fashion, except the legs, which are left unsewed from the thigh downwards ; a loose pair of cotton drawers, cut and made in like manner, and worn beneath, imparts to his every movements a most grotesque appear- ance, leaving at each step of the wearer his denuded leg, with that of his pantaloons on one side, and drawers on the other, fiuttering in the breeze ! The next thing that meets the gaze, is his black, slouching, broad-brimmed hat, (sumbrei-u.) though little darker than the features it obscures, and far less so than the coarse, jet-colored hair that protrudes from beneath it, and falls confusedly upon his shoulders. Next, if the weather tolerates the habit, a coarse parti-colored blanket {charape) envelopes the body, from his shoulders downwards, fixed to its place by an aperture in the centre through which the head is thrust, and securely girted at pleasure by a waist-band of leather. His arms, if arms he has, consist of a rude bow and arrows slung to his back, or an old fusee, not unfrequently witiiout fiint, lock, or ammunition ; but doubly armed, and proudly, too, is he who can carry a good rifle with powder and lead — even if he he ignorant of their use. Thus appearing, these creatures, some mounted upon mules, with heavy spurs attached to their heels, (bearing gafis an inch and a half in length, jin- gling in response to the rolling motions of the wearer,) ensconced in bungling Spanish saddles, (finished with such ample leather skirts as almost hid the diminutive animal that bore them, and large wooden stirrups, some three . 3e> .v>^' Wagon Train. — Pao-e 40. 4* 1 > * ^ r . • 1 n , » A STORM. 43 inches broad,) were riding at their ease ; while others, half naked, were trudging along on foot, driving their teams, or following the erratic mules of the caravan, to heap upon them the ready maledictions of their prolific vocabulary. Passing on, we were accosted : " Como lo pasa, cabelleros ?" The salutation was returned by a simple nod. " Habla la lengua Espanola, senors ?" A shake of the head was the only response. " Es esta el camino de Independenca ?" No reply. " Carraho ! Que quantos jornadas tenemos en la camino de Indepen- denca ?" Still no one answered. " Scha ! Maldijo tualmas ! Los Americanos esta dijabelo !" By this time the crowd had passed and left us no longer annoyed by its presence. The conclusion irresistibly forced itself upon my mind, " if these are true specimens of Mexicans, it is no wonder they incite both the pity and contempt of the rest of the world." Subsequent intercourse with them, however, has served to convince me that ticst impressions, in this case, instead of exceeding the reality, fell far short of the true mark ! Continuing our course, w^e saw large numbers of prairie-hens, and suc- ceeded in killing several. These birds assimilate the English grouse in appearance, and arc of a dusky-brown color, — with short tails, and narrow- peaked wings, — and little less in size than the domestic fowl. Their flesh is tender and of superior flavor. When alarmed, they start with a cack- hng noise, and whiz through the air not unlike the j>artridge. They are very numerous on the frontier prairies, and extend to the Rocky Moun- tains, Oregon, California and New Mexico. About sundown we reached a small creek known as Elm Grove, and encamped for the night, Vv'ith every indication of an approaching storm. Strict orders were accordingly given for securing the animals, and the process of "picketing" was speedily under way. This consisted in driving small stakes ("pickets") firmly into the ground, at proper dis- tances apart, to which the animals were severally tied by strong cords, — a plan that should find nightly practice among all travellers of the grand prairies, to prevent those losses which, despite the utmost precaution, will not unfrequently occur. Timber proved quite scarce in this vicinity, and it was with great difficulty we procured suflicient for cooking purposes. The men now began to prepare for the coming storm. Some disposed of themselves in, and others under, the waggons, making barricades to the windward ; others erected shantees, by means of slender sticks, planted in parallel rows five or six feet apart, and interv/oven at the tops, so as to form an arch of suitable height, over which was spread a roofage of robes or blankets, — while others, snugly ensconced beneath the ready pitched tent, bade de- fiance to wind and weather. Being one of those selecting a place under the waggons, I retired at an early hour to snooze away the night ; and despite the anticipations of an unpleasant time, I soon lost myself in a sweet slumber, utterly uncon- scious of every tiling around me. In thoughts I wandered back to th^ 44 AN INDIAN BATTLE. home of my childhood, to converse with friends whose names and features fond memory has chained to my heart, while imagination roamed with delight amid those scenes endeared to me by earliest and most cherished recollections. But all the sweet pencillings of fancy were at once spoiled by the uncivil intrusion of a full torrent of water, that came pouring- from tlie hill-side and forced its impetuous way into the valley below, — deluging me from head to foot in its descent. JMy condition, as the reader may well suppose, was far from being enviable. However, resolved to make the best of a bad thing, attcr wrniging the water from my drenched bed- ding, I selected another spot and again adjusted myself to pass the dreary interval till morninof ; this 1 succeeded in doing — how or in what man- ner, it is unnecessary to say. Sleep was utterly out of the question, and I am quite sure I never hailed the welcome morn with greater delight than on this occasion. Others of the company fared almost as bad as myself, ?nd there was scarcely a dry bed in camp. But the little concern evinced by the moun- taineers for their mishap, surprised me most. They crawled irom their beds, reeking with w'et, as good humoredly as though their nocturnal bath had in no wise disturbed their equanimity, or impaired their comfort. Tiie morning proved so disagreeable two of our party, who were accompa- nying us tor the purpose of adventure, concluding this a kind of adventure they were unwilling to meet, wisely resolved to take the back track, and accordingly left for home. Towards night the rain ceased, and, the clouds having dispersed, we were again en route. Travelling on till late, we encamped in the open prairie, and early the next morning resumed our course. Having reached a small creek, about 10 o'clock, we halted for breakfast, where another Santa Fe company came up. This proved a party of Americans, with some six or eight waggons and a large number ot horses and mules, on their homeward journey. They had also in their possession an elk nearly full grown, two black-tailed deer,* an antelope and a white-tailed fawn. Through them we received intelligence of a battle recently fought be- tween the Pawnee and Arapalio Indians, at the lower (Jimarone Springs, south of the Arkansas. The former had been defeated with greai slaughter, — losing their horses and seventy-two of their bravest war- riors, to increase the trophies and enliven the scalp-dances of their ene- mies. This action occurred directly uj)on the Santa Fe trail, and the dead yet bestrewed the prairie, as our inlormants passed, half devoured by wolves, and tilling the air with noisome stench as tliey wasted beneath the iutiuence of a scorching sun. An approving murmur ran through the crowd while listening to the re- cital, and all united to denounce the Pawnees as a dangerous and villan- ous set, and wished for their utter extermination. * Tlie black-tailed deer are larger than the common deer, and are found only in the snow-mouatains. For a description of them the reader is referred to subsequeut pages. 45 CHAPTER III. The Pottowatomies. — Crossu»g the Wakarousha. — Adventure at the Springs. — ^Tlie Caw chief. — Kansas river and Indians. — Pleading for whiskey. — Hickory timber. — Prairie tea. — Scenes at the N. Fork of Blue. — Wild honey. — Return party. — Mountaineers in California. — Adventure with a buffalo. — hidian atrocities. — Liquor and the Fur Trade. — Strict guard. — High prices. Continuing our course, we bore to the r'ght, and struck the northern or Platte trail, and, after travelling eight or ten miles, made camp upon a small creek skirted with heavy timber, called Black Jack. An early start the next morning brought us to the Wakarousha, a considerable tributary of the Kansas, where a junction was formed with our advance party. The territory lying upon this stream as far south as Council Grove, (a noted place on the Mexican trail, 144 miles west from Independence.) belongs to the Pottowatomies. These Indians are very wealthy and are partially civilized, — the most of them being tillers of the ground. Their dwellings are of very simple construction, — large strips of bark firmly tied to a frame-work of poles with small apertures to admit light, furnishing the ex- terior, w^hile the interior is finished by the suspension of two or three blankets between the apartments, as partitions, and erecting a few scallblds for bedsteads. The fire-place in warm weather is out of doors, but in the winter it occupies the centre of the bu Iding, from which the smoke — unaided by jamb or chimney — is left to find its way through an opening in the roof. Some, however, are beginning to improve in their style of architecture, and now and then we find a tolerably spacious and comforta- ble house among: them. The Catholics have several missionaries with this tribe, and are using great exertions, if not to ameliorate their condition, at least, to proselyte them to their own peculiar faith. The missionaries of other .^^christian denominations are also devoting themselves for their benefit, and not un- frequently with gratifying success. The remainder of the day was occupied in crossing the creek — a task by no means easy, — its banks being so precipitous we were compelled to lower our waggons by means of ropes. In so doing it required the utmost caution to prevent them Irom oversetting or becoming broken in the ab- rupt descent. The night following was passed upon the opposite bank. After travel- ling some twelve miles the next day, we encamped a short distance to the right of the trail, at a place known as the Springs. Scarcely had we halted when two footmen appeared from an opposite direction — one of them leading a horse — whom a nearer advance proved to be a white man and an Indian. 'I'he former was immediately recognized by our engages as an old acquaintance, by the name of lirown, who had been tiieir recent compagnon de voyage from the mountains. His story was soon told. A few days subsequent to his arrival in the States, a ditficulty had occurred 46 KANSAS INDIANS. between him and anotlier person, who received a severe wound from a knife by the hand of Brown during tiie affray, when the latter was ne- cessitated to consult his ov.n safety by a hurried fii^rht. He accordingly bade ikrewell both to enemies and law, and lett for the Indian country — travelling most of the way by night. 'l"wo weeks afterwards he arrived in the Kansas nation, and remained v/ith the Indian now accompanying him, to await our return. Having listened to his story, I began to survey his strange companion. He was a village chief of the Kansas (Caw) tribe, and the hrst of Ids race T had ever seen so nearly drossed in his native costume. In person he was tall and stout-built. — with broad shoulders and chest, brawny arms and legs, and features evincing the uncontaminated blood of the Aborigi- ne. His hair was closely shaved to the scalp, with the exception of a narrow tuft centrewise from forehead to crown, so trimmed it stood on end like the bristles of a warring hog; then his whole head and face were so lavishly bedaubed with vermilion, our experienced city belles would doubt- less have considered it an unpardonable waste of that useful material! A string of bears'-claws, tastefully arranged, encircled his neck, while ample folds of brass wire above the wrists and elbows furnished his armil- lary, and from his ears hung rude ornaments, — some of silver, others of brass or iron — cruelly distending the flexible members that bore them. A dirty white blanket drawn closely around the shoulders enveloped the body, which, with a breech-cloth and leggins, formed his sole covering. A bow and arrows, slung to his back by a strap passing over the left shoul- der and under the right arm, were his only weapons. A belt, begirting the waist, sustained his tobacco-pouch and butcher-knife, and completed his attire and armament. Thus ijabited appeared before us the Caw chief, holding in one hand the lead-rope of his horse, and in the other the wing of a wild turkey, with a a long-stemmed pipe, carved from a hard red stone, handsomely wrought and finely polished. Taken altogether, he presented an amusing spectacle — a real curiosity. Having shaken hands with the company and turned his horse to graze, in Pc few monv^nts his pipe was subjected to its destined use, and, as the inhaled fumes merrily curved from his mouth and nostrils, he ever and anon pre- sented it for the indulgence of the bystanders. His knowledge of English was limited to the simple monosyllable " good," which he took occasion to pronounce at intervals as he thought proper. i^ept. 8lh. Continuing on, we encamped towards night at a small creek within six miles of the crossing of the Kansas river. Here a bevy of our chief's villagers, rigged in their rude fashion, came flocking up, apparently to gratify their curiosity in gazing at us, but really in expectation of some trifling presents, or in quest of a favorable opportunity for indulging tneir mate propensities for theft. However, they found little encourage- ment, as the vigilance of our guards more than equalled the cunning of our visitors. During their stay we were frequently solicited for donations of tobacco and ammunition, (as they expressed it,) in payment for passing through their country. This was individually demanded with all the assu- rance of government revenue officers, or the keepers of regular toll-bridges, atrongly reminding one of the petty nations upon the border^ of Canaam The Caw Chief. — Pase 46. , J > a * ' . *» « • • • PLEADING FOR WHISKEY. 49 that required tribute of the Israelites passing through them to possess the land of their forefiithers. Sept. 9lh. Early in the forenoon we came to the Kansas, and were em- ployed till nearly ni^ht in ejecting a ford. 'Diis })roved rather difficult, as the water was deep and tiie bottom sandy; — the course, bearing directly across, till near midw;ty of the river, follows the current for six or eight hundred yards, and then turns abruptly to the opposite shore. The Kansas, at the crossing, was not far from six hundred yards wide, with steep banks of clay and sand. The fording accomplished, we travelled some six miles, and encamped for the night. Our visitors yet honored us with their pres- ence ; some, under pretence of trading horses ; others, of bartering for tobacco, wliiskey, coffee, and ammunition ; but most of them for the real purpose of beguing and staaling. The Caw Indians are a branch of the Osage tribe — speaking the same language, and identified by the same manners and customs. They num- ber a population of sixteen hundred, and claim all the territory west of the Delaware, Shawnee, and Poltowatomie line, to the head waters oi the Kansas. Their main villao-e is on the left bank of the river, a few miles above the crossing. Their houses are built Pawnee fashion, b^ing coni- form and covered with a thick coat of dirt, presenting a hole at the apex to emit the smoke, and another at the side to serve the double purpose of a door and window. The whole building describes a complete circle, in whose centre is placed the hearth-fire, and at the circumference the couches of its inmates. Its floor is the bare ground, and its ceiling the grass, brush, and poles which uphold the superincumbent earth forming the roof and sides. The Caws are generally a lazy and slovenly people, raising but little corn, and scarcely any vegetables. For a living they depend mostly upon the chase. Their regular hunts are in the summer, fall, and winter, at which time they all leave for the bufEilo range, and return laden with a full supply of choice provisions. The robes and skins thus obtained, furnish their clothing and articles for traffic. As yet, civilization has made but small advances among them. Some, however, are tolerably well educated, and a Protestant mission established with them, is beginning its slow but successful operations for their good, — while two or three families of half-breeds, near by, occupy neat houses, and have splendid farms and improvements, thus afTording a wholesome contrast to the poverty and misery of their rude neighbors. The distance from Independence to this place, by the mountain trail, is some eighty miles, over a beautiful and fertile country, which I shall here- after take occasion to notice more fully. Before leaving, we were further increased by the accession of two Canadian voyageurs — French of course. Our force now numbered some twenty-four — one sufficiently formidable for all the dantjers of the route. Sept. lOtk. Resuming our way, we proceeded till late at night, stiL attended by our Indian friends ; (not the originals, but a " few more of the same sort," who kindly supplied their places, — seeking to levy fresh drafts upon patience and generosity.) These were more importunate for liquor than any preceding them — though, in fact, the whole nation is nowise remiss in their devotion to King Alcohol. One fellow, in particular, exhausted all iiia 6 50 SCENES AT NORTH FORK OF BLUE. ingenuity to obtain the wherewith to " wet his whistle.'''' He was a shriv- el-faced old man, and occasioned much sport, from his suppUcations in broken English, which ran pretty much as follows: " Big man, me. Chief, — Black Warrior. Me, American soldier ! Love Americans, heap. Big man, me ! Love whiskey, heap. V/liite man good. Whiskey good. Love whiskey, me, — drink heap whiskey. No give me whiskey drink ? IMe, Chief. Me, American. Mq, Black War- rior. Heap big man, me ! Love Americans. Take him hand, shake. White man good. Whiskey good. Me love whiskey ! Love him heap ! No give Black Warrior whiskey ? No ? — one leetle drink ? Whiske}^ good. Me love him. Make Black Warrior strong. Big man, me, — Chief. American soldier. Me love American. Sliake him hand. Fight him, bad Indian, no love white man. Kill him. White man good. Me love white man. Whiskey good. Me love whiskey. No give Black Warrior whiskey, — one leetlo drink ? Me, Chief. Big man, me." Etc. In this strain the old fellow continued so long as he found listeners, but without success, although, as I afterwards learned, two waggons were freighted with the noxious article ; non3 of it was suffered to find its way down the throats of our thirsty guests. Pursuing a westerly course, nearly parallel with the Kansas, for three successive days, we passed the 14th encamped at Big Vermilion, for the purpose of procuring a quantity of hickory for gun-sticks and bow-timber. Hickory is unknown to the Rocky Mountains, and this being the last place on the route affording it, each of our company took care to provide himself with an extiu gun-stick. 8mall pieces, suitable for bows, find market among the mountain Indians, ranging at the price of a robe each, while gun-sticks command one dollar apiece, from the hunters and trap- pers. We were also careful to provide an extra quantity of ox -bows, axle-trees, &c., as a resource in case of accidents or breakage. These are articles with which every caravan should be furnished on a journey across the grand pralnes. In this vicinity a species of shrub, which I had before noticed in various places, (designated as "red-root" by our voyage urs,) became quite abundant The red-root is highly esteemed as a substitute for tea, and my own expe- rience attests its superiority of flavor to any article of that kind imported from China. In appearance it is very similar to the tea of commerce, and it affords at all times a most excellent beverage. It is found only upon the prairies between the frontiers and Big Blue, and in some portions of the Rocky iMountains. Leaving Big Vermilion, we travelled rapidly the two days subsequent, and arrived at the North Fork of Blue, — a large and deep stream, tributary to the Kansas. We were here detained till the 24th — the creek beino- im- passable on account of high water. However, the beauty of the place and variety of its landscape scenery, served in a great measure to alleviate the weariness of delay. The coun- try was most agreeably interspersed with hills, uplands, and dales — amply watered and variegated with woods and prairies, attired in all the gaudy loveliness of wild-flowers. The busy bee, afraid of the cruel persecutions (»f man, had here sought a secure retreat to pursue, unmolested, her ADVENTURE WITH A BUFFALO. 51 melliferous employ, and fill the dark chambers of her oaken palaces year by year with honeyed stores. The air was almost vocal with the mii.>i'c of her wings, and the flowerets were enlivened by the gentle touclics of her embrace. The odor of honey filled the breeze, which, wafting th j mingled melody of birds and insects with the incense of flowers, o'er the smiling prairie till lost in space, seemed more like the breath of Eden than the exhalations of earth. As might be supposed, we were not slow in levying upon the delicious stores, which the industrious insects, claiming this as their dominion, had laid away for themselves. During our stay no less than four bce-irees were levelled, and every pan, kettle, pail, keg, or empty dish in the whole camp was filled to overflowing, and every stomach to repletion, v.'ith honey of almost crystalline transparency. The great abundance of deer, turkey, and other game in the vicinity, also contributed their share of amusement, and enlivened the interval of detention. At length, by a partial subsidence of the water, we were enabled to eflact a crossing and renew our journey. Pursuing a course VV. N. W., on the 27th we met a small party of whites on their return from the mountains, and, yielding to the temptation presented by a luxuriant and well-w onded valley, with a pretty streamlet, the two ]>arties made common camp. Uur new acquaintances were taking a large drove of horses, and several do- mesticated buffalo, with them to the States, Their horses had been mostly obtained from Upper California, the year previous, by a band of mountain- eers, under the lead of one Thompson. This band, numbering twenty -two in all, had made a descent upon the Mexican ranckos and captured bet\veen two and three thousand head of horses and mules. ' A corps of some sixty Mexican cavalry pursued and attacked them, but were defeated and pursued in turn, with the loss of several mules and their entire camp equij age : after which the adventurers were permitted to regain their mountain homes, without further molestation ; but, in passing the cheerless desert, between the Sierra Nevada and Colorado, tiie heat, dust, and thirst were so in- tolerably oppressive, that full ono half of their animals died. The remain- der, however, vv'ere brought to rendezvous, and variously disposed of, to suit the ^vants and wishes of their capt(^rs. The buflalo, in possession of our wayfaring friends, had been caught while calves, and reared by domestic cows. They appeared as tame and easily managed as other cattle. One of them, a two-year-old heifer, vras rather vicious in its habits, having been spoiled, while a calf, by the too great familiarity of its keeper. After listening to a full exposition of its bad qualities, our commandant offered to bet he could handle, or even ride, the unruly beast at pleasure. •' Can you ?" said the owner. " Do it, and my best horse is yours !" " I take all such ofters !" returned the commandant. • " A horse could not be easier earned !" he continued, stepping towards the :ll-tatorcd ani- mal. " Come, boss ! — Poor boss! — bossy, bossy !" addressing the buflltlo, which commenced advancing, — at first slowly, then, with a sudden bound, ran full tilt against the admirer, leaving him prostrate upon the ground, as it turned away, dancing and throwing its heels exultingly at the exploit. "Bless my stars !" he exclaimed, on recovering himself; '-Pd no idea 'twould serve me so I" 52 LIQUOR AND THE FUR TRADE. "Ha, lia, ha!" retorted the owner. " You seem to pick upon a strange place for a snooze ! What in the world were you doing before that skittish ijeast ?" The roar of laughter which followed, told how well the joke was relished by the crowd. Reports from the mountains brought intelligence of recent difficulties between the whites and Sioux, — the latter having murdered several trap- pers. A battle had aho been fought in the Snake country, in which the Sioux were defeated with a loss of twenty killed and w^ounded, — the whites suffered in the loss of their leader (Frapp) and four others. Another affair had come off, at Fort Platte, between two factions of that tribe, while on a drunken spree, resulting in the death of Schena-Chischille, their chief, and several of his party. The most acceptable item of intelligence was the probability of our reaching the buffalo range in ten days, at least, where we should find vast quantities of those animals. This led our voyageurs to expatiate anew upon the choice varieties of the feast of good things we might expect on that occasion. Bidding adieu to our transient camp-mates, we were soon aga.\n en route. The day following, being unfit for travel, was devoted to overhauling and re-adjusting the freight of the waggons. Here, for the first time, I ascer- tained the fact, that a portion of the above consisted of no less than twenly-four barrels of alcohol, designed for the Indian trade ! This announcement may occasion surprise to many, when aware that the laws of Congress prohibit, under severe penalties, the introduction of liquor among the Indians, as an article of traffic, — subjecting the of- fender to a heavy fine and confiscation of eflects. Trading companies, however, find ways and means to smuggle it through, by the w'aggon-load, under the very noses of government officers, stationed along the frontiers to enforce the observance of laws. I am irresistibly led to the conclusion, that these gentry are wilfully neg- ligent of their duty ; and, no doubt, there are often weighty inducements presented to them to shut their eyes, close their ears, and avert their faces, to let the guilty pass unmolested. It seems almost impossible that a blind man, retaining the senses of smell, taste and hearing, could remain igno- rant of a thing so palpably plain. The alcohol is put into waggons, at Westport or Independence, in open day-light, and taken into the territory, in open day light, where it remains a week or more awaiting the arrival of its owners. Two Government agents reside at Westport, while six or eight companies of Dragoons are stationed at Fort Leavenworth, ostensibly for the purpose of protecting the Indians and suppressing this infamous traffic, — and yet it sufiers no diminution from their vigilance! What faithful public officers ! How prompt in the discharge of their whole duty ! These gentlemen cannot plead ignorance as an excuse. They well know that alcohol is one of the principal articles in Indian trade — this fact is notorious — no one pretends to deny it ; not even the traders themselves—' and yet, been use no one takes the trouble to produce a specimen of the kind of freight taken, more or less, by all mountain companies, and forcb them to see, taste., touchy and smell, they affect ignorance ! It is thus the HIGH PRICES. 53 benevolent designs of our Government are consummated by these pension- ers upon the pubUc treasury ! Had they the will so to do, it would be no difficult matter to put a stop to all such exportations. The departure of any one of these companies for the mountains, is a thing too difficult to be effected unknown and stealthily. It becomes public talk for days and even weeks previous. Scarcely anything would be easier than for those whose business it is, to keep on the look out, and enforce the law to its full extent upon each of- fender. A few examples of this kind would interpose an insuperable bar- rier to the further prosecution of an illicit traffic in the manner it is at present carried on. A few faithful public officers, and attentive to their duty, regardless of fear or favor, would soon accomplish an object so de- sirable. In subsequent pages of this work I shall have occasion to notice a few of the many evils resulting from this criminal neglect, — but at present forbear further remarks. Our arms were now put in order for immediate use, — each individual ap- portioning to himself a good supply of ammunition, to be ready at all times in case of attack. Guards were ordered to be constantly on the alert. The company was divided into two parties, — one for day and the other for night guard, and these again were subdivided for alternate relieves, — thus, one of each subdivision serving a day and a night, and the reserve the day and night succeeding. The day-guard consisted of only two persons, upon duty every other day, but the night-guard numbered ten, — two being on duty for two hours were then relieved by the two next in succession, and they by the next, and so on. Strict orders were also given to prevent any from leaving camp, or part- ing from the caravan while travelling. In fact, every thing began to as- sume a warlike aspect, as if we were really in danger and apprehensive of an immediate rencounter. Se\eral boxes of clothing, &c., were also opened for such as wished to purchase. But every article disposed of was sold at an enormous rate : tobacco bringing from one to three dollars per lb., according to quality ; butcher-knives, from one dollar to one fifty each; hose, one dollar per pair ; shirts, from three to five dollars each, according to quality ; blank- ets, from twelve to sixteen dollars ; coats, from fifteen to forty dollars; coarse shoes, four dollars per pair; six-penny calicoes, fifty cts. per yd.; beads, one dollar per bunch, etc. These were of an indifferent quality, and afforded the vender some three or four hundred per cent, advance upon purchase-price. In fact, with regard to prices, conscience had no- thing t(j do with the matter. 54 CHAPTER IV. Country from the frontiers to Big Blue, its geological character, &c. — Novel cure for fever and ague. — Indian trails.— Game. — Sage rabbits. — Antelope, and their pe- culiarities.— Beaver cuttings. — Big Blue and its vicinity. — Dangerous country. — Pawnee bravery.— Night-alarrn, (Prairies on fire.) — Platte river.-- -Predominant characteristics of the Grand Prairies, and theory explanatory of their phenome- non.— Something to laugh at. — " Big Jim," and the antelope. Scj^i. 26ih. We are now camped upon a small creek, nearly destitrJe of timber, within two miles of illg J31uo, or the N. W. branch of the Kansas river. The geography of this part of tlie country is incorrectly described upon all the published maps I have yet seen. The Republican Fork, which is the principal branch of tho Kansas, is uniformly represented as the most nortliwesterly branch of that river, forming a junction with it at or below the usual crossing. This is not the case. The two forks of Blue, from the northwest, united, form a large and important stream, which, according to my inijn-ession, discharges its waters into the Kansas itself, and not into the Republican. Of this, however, I am not quite positive. But be that as it may, admitting the R,epublican to be the main stream, Big Blue must be, as a matter of course, the most nortliwesterly branch of the Kansas river. Proceeding up the Blue, the geological character of the country under- goes an entire and radical change, and the traveller is introduced to"a diiier- ent order of things from that previously observed. Perhaps, therefore, it is not out of place to present a general review of tlie territory thus far. The interval from the frontier of Missouri to Big Blue, a distance up- wards of two hundred miles, affords great uniformity in all its more promi- nent characteristics. It generally comprises beautifully undulating prai- ries, of a moist argillaceous soil, rich in sedimentary deposites and vege- table matter. It is somewhat rocky in places, but well watered by the almost innumerable streams that find their way into the Kansas, Platte and Arkansas rivers. The creeks, with but few exceptions, are heavily timbered with oak, hickory, walnut, maple, cottonwood, and other varieties fouud in more eastern forests. The hills too, in some parts, are more than usually abundant in springs, and covered with stately groves, as taste- fully arranged as if planted by the hand of man, while luxuriant grass and fragrant flowers usurp the place of underbrush. The prairies, hem- med in on every side by the woodlands skirting the water-courses, present to the eye proud oceans of flowery verdure, tossing their wavelets to the breeze and perfuming the air witii thebreatii of spring. The streams are clear, with rocky or pebbly botuims and high, steep banks — abounding in choice specimens of tlie finny tribes and varreties of the testaceous order, of the genus muHciUa. The valley of the Kansas is SAGE RABBITS. 55 wide and of a deep brown vegetable mould, susceptible of a high state of cultivation. The whole country is well adapted to the double purpose of agriculture and the growth of stock. The prevailing rock is sandstone of various shades and compactness, with siliceous and fossiliferous limestone. These sjiecifications are ijene- rally exhibited in a detached and fragmentary form, but rarely in strata as d.sclosed upon the surface. Taken as a whole, the teiTitory holds out many inducements to emi- grants, and, whenever brought into market, will no doubt become speedily and thickly populated.''' Sept. SOlh. We are again under headway. A French en'rage, who had been sufTering for several days past from a severe attack of the fever and ague, experienced a sudden and novel cure. Unable to travel, quar- ters were prepared for him in one of the whiskey waggons, where he was comfortably disposed of as we continued our course. In pussing a rough place the waggon overset, when out came the invalid head foremost, and out came the whiskey barrels showering full upon him ! The suddenness of the fall, with the surprise and excitement of the occasion, — one, or both, or all, or some other cause unknown, effected a complete cure, — for cer- tain it is, he did not suffer another attack of the fever and ajjue duringr the whole journe3% and the next day was able to discharge hit duties as well as ever. On strikinof the Bio- Blue, the mountain road bears a north-northwest course to thu head of that stream, and from thence over an ii.terval of hiorh- lands to the Platte river. The distance travelled up the Blue requires some eight days, for heavy waggons. Continuing our way, about noon we passed several Indian trails, in addition to one ten or twelve or fifteen miles back. These consist of a number of well-beaten, parrallel foot-paths, bearing a northwest and southwest direction. They are formed by the passing and repassing of the Otoes, lowas, and Foxes, to and from their hunting grounds, towards the head-waters of the Kansas. On the 3d of October we reached the antelope range, and saw four or five of these animals scouring the boundless expanse, or ascending some favorable eminence to gaze upon us. Slight signs of buffalo also appeared, and everything seemed to indicate the approach to a game country. Parting a short distance from the trail, a large sage rabbit bounded up before me, — the first of his species I ever saw. This animal is nearly three times the size of the common rabbit, and of a white color, slightly tinged with grey. It derives its name from being found principally in coun- tries aboun'iing with absinthe or wild sage. In the regions adjacent to the mountains, these animals occur more frequently, — and even among the mountains, where their tails and ears are tipped with jetty black. Their fur is soft and fine, — equalling if not surpassing that of the Russia rabbit. Their flesh is also of a superior flavor, as I have had opportunities of testing. Towards night, three antelope appearing near the trail, our hunter made * By a recent treaty with the Kansas Indians, our government has become possessed of nearly the whole of tlxis beautiful section. 56 ANTELOPE OF THE PRAIRIE. an unsuccessful attempt to approach them, which aflbrded me a first ink- ling of the nature and character of these animals. The antelope of the grand prairie dillors but little in size and shape from tlie common sheep, and is coated with long, brittle hair, — of a ruddy brown color, except at the tail and head, where it is short and white. The female is hornless, except an occasional blunt corneous excrescence, some two or three inches long protruding from the head. The male, however, is equipped with hook-shaped antlers, ebony colored, and six or eight inclies in length, which he sheds annually in the months of JSovember and De- cember. Tliis is the fleetest inhabitant of the prairie. No horse can compete with it in speed. Quick of sight, keen of scent, and acute of ear, it seems ever on the alert at the approach of real or supposed danger, — now swiftly advancing towards the object of its alarm or curiosity, — then circling before you with the tleetness of the storm-wind, to mount some emmence lar away beyond reach, and gaze in security. Tlion, again, ere you have time to catch breath for admiration, it repeats its semi-gyration from an opposite direction, still nearer and swifter, till past, — as if indeed borne on the wings of lightning — and yet again surveys you in the distance. Now, running from point, to point it examines you upon all sides, as it cautiously passes round, — then, snuffing the breeze, it again calls to aid its lieetness of limb, and with the velocity, of thouglit is lost to view in the vast ex- panse. Possessed of an inordinate share of inquisitiveness, it not unfrequently falls a victim to its own curiosity. The hunter, turbaned with a red Iiand- kerchief and half concealed behind some object, first raising, then depress- ing his head, then withdrawing it entirely from view, then again disclosing it to the curious animal, is almost ceitain to allure his game within gun- shot. I have been numbers killed in this manner. In the spring season they appear more sensitive than at any other time, and are easily lured to their fate. With the exhibition of this strange propensity, I have time and again been minded of its more fully developed moral prototype in man. How frequently do we see persons around us who indulge their appetites and passions, as often for mere curiosity as fancied pleasure, — venturing near- er and still nearer towards the objects that command their -attentitin and lure them into the vortex of ruin, till, with sure and deadly aim, the shafts of the tempter pierce the waning vitals of morality, and plunge the vic- tims headlong into a yawning abyss, where they are lost to themselves, to society, and to the world — lost lorever! Here, then, is furnished for us a moral : — Beware how you indulge a vain curiosity that lures to evil ; — never parley with temptation. These animals are found from the Big Blue to the mountains — in Oregon, California, Santa Fe, and N. W. Texas. Their flesh is tender and sweet, — quite equal to venison, though seldom fat, owing, as is sup- posed, to their almost incessant mobility. Near our niglit-camp I noticed fresh beaver " cuttings," some of which consisted of trees, six inches in diameter, levelled by these sagacious ani- mals. PAWNEE BRAVERY. 57 The vicinity disclosed frequent boulders of red and dark ferruginous sandstone, with a soil somewhat arenose, reclining upon a changeable deposite of sand and gravel, succeeded by a substratum of parti-colored and friable sandstone. The valley of the Blue is bordered by hills of graceful slope, both green and beautiful. I here remarked for the first time the appearance of cadi, which here- from becomes quite common, and proves the pest of many places adjacent to the mountains. The Blue is a deep, narrow stream, with a swift current, over a bed of gravel and pebbles, and is fringed by groves of oak, cotton-wood, and wil- low. Its valley is between one and two miles in width, with a superfice of variable fertility, but generally consisting of good arable land. This section of country is considered very dangerous in the summer and fall months, on account of the strolling bands of Pawnees which infest it. The voyageur holds the latter in great dread, unless he chances to be accompanied by a sufficient force to bid defiance to their approach. A party, numerically weak and indifferently armed, meets with rough treat- ment at their hands while on the open prairies. Persons and property are rarely respected, and the unfortunate traveller is not only plundered, but often whipt or murdered without mercy. This, however, may not be said of all — it is only the young warriors, when beyond the restraint of their chiefs and seniors, who perpetrate such outrages ; though, to their praise be it said, instances of this kind are quite seldom, at present, compared with former years. The courage of these Indians is held in little repute by mountaineers; and, that this opinion is not unfounded, the following incident will prove. It was related to me by an actor in the scene: A small party of whites on their cruise down the Platte with a cargo of furs, '• lay by " to make meat, near the forks of that stream. Buflalo be- ing at soniC distance from camp, our adventurers were compelled to perform the duties of pack-horses in conveying the proceeds of their hunting ex- cursions. One day, four of them left for this object, and having proceeded some six or eight miles, a war-party of Pawnees suddenly emerged from behind an eminence, directly fronting them. Alarmed at the unwelcome apparition, and imagining the whole country to be alive with Indians, they immediately ran, and were pursued towards camp. One of the number, a big, lazy fellow, and rather " green " withal, soon became tired, and sung out to his companions : " Don't let's run so fast. Blast me, if I can keep up !" "Come on, — come on !" cried they. " A thousand ' shaved heads' are upon us, half frozen for hair !" "Pooh ! I'll bet five dollars there aint thirty !" "Done ! But, who'll count the bloody varmints ?" "Why, I'll do it, just ibr my own satisfaction." So saying, he wheeled and advanced towards the Pawnees, as his wondering companions halted a Uttle distance off, to learn the result of his fool-daring. Surprised at this strange movement, the enemy also came to a stand, affording a fine opportunity to ascertain tiieir number, wliich only amounted to nineteen ! 58 PRAIRIES ON FIRE. "I've won !" exclaimed our hero. '• Let's charge, and give 'em the ver devil!" The word went for command, and lac four hunters dashed boldly towards the terrified savages, who in turn Jled, witli greater velocity than tiiey had called into exorci.se at any time during their advance, — illustrating the truth of the saying, " tyrants are always cowards." liCgs proved quite convenient articles for the Pawnee braves ! They were out of sight in a few minute:-, and were very careful not to stop until they had left their pursuers far in the rear. A Pawnee with a defenceless enemy in his power, like some examples among the whites, is unrivalled in courage and daring ; but where there is resistance offered, and fin^htins" to be done, he, as well as the Irishman's chickens, " comes up ?nisiiing .'" He is always bravest when farthest from danger. We were careful to observe the strictest vigilance at night, to prevent the loss of horses from lurking bands of Indians. The animals of the caravan were uniformly picketed in compact order, and sentinels, ])ostcd at suitable distances, coniinued to pace their rounds, from dark till daylight; while each of the company slept by his arms, in readiness at any moment to repel an attack. Having travelled for seven successive days, we made camp late in the afternoon at the head of the right fork of Blue. During the day we had noticed a dense smoke some distance in the rear, but, with the wind in an opposite direction, no uneasiness was felt on that account. The sentries were soon at their posts, and everything was snugly disposed of for tlie night. Those not on duty improved the oppor- tunity to gain respie than the fatigues of the day, and, in a brief interval, were snoring away at an admirable rate. The polur-star by its " pointers " had just told the hour of midnight, when th'ese hurried words rang through the camp: "Live, ho! Lave!* Prairies on lire! Quick — catch up! catch up!" This startling announcement instantly brought every man to his leet; — and sucli a scene as now met the eye ! How awful, and how grand ! The wind, new ciianged and freshened, to the right and rear, was tossing the Hames cowards us, rapidly — lighting the heavens with their lurid glare, and transforming the darkness of night into a more than noon-day splen- dor! Here wa^?, indeed, an ^^ ocean ofjlamer far as the eye could reach — dancing v/ith tiory wavelets m the wind, or rolling its burning surges, in mad fury, eager to lick up every vestige of vegetation or semblance of combustible that appeared in its way ! — now shooting its glowing missiles far, far ahead, like meteors athwart the sky, or tovv'ering aloft from the wet'ds and .'all gras-, describino- most hideous and fantastic forms, that, movmg with the wind, more resembled a cotillion of demons among their native flames than aught terrestial ! — then driving whole sheets of the raging element into the withered herbage in front, like the advance scouts *"Lave" appears to be a corruption of the Spanish word levar, to get up, oi axouse, as from sleep. It is in common ut-e among mountauieers. PLATTE RIVER AND ITS VICINITY. 59 of an invading army, swept onward its desolating course, leavino- in its track naught save a blackened waste of smoking ruins ! Altogether, it was a sublime spectacle, a stupendous scene, orand and imposing beyond description, and terrible in its beauty ! Commincrjed with sensations of wonder and admiration, it tended to impress the beholder with feelings of painful melancholy. The broad expanse, but a few moments since arrayed in all the mourning grandeur of fudino' autumn, was now a naked desert, and every vestige of loveliness in an instant snatched from view ! How sudden, how awful, how marked the change ! and yet, how mao-- niticent in its career, though doleful its sequel ! We were speedily under way, with as much earnestness of advance as that of righteous Lot, in his escape from burning Sodom.* For a while the pursuing enemy kept even pace, and threatened to overtake us, till, headed by the strong wind, which meanwhde had changed its co\u-se, it began to slacken its speed and abate its greediness. About sunrise we crossed the regular Pav;nee trails, (leading to and from their hunting grounds, which bore the appearance of being mucli fre- quented,) and at 10 o'clock, A. M., reached tlie Platte river, having trav- elled a distance of thirtv miles without haltingf. The moinitain road strikes the above stream at lat. 40° 41' 06' north, long. 99^^ 17' 47" west from Greenwich, some twenty miles below the head of Grand Island. This island is densely wooded and broad, and extends for fifty or sixty miles in length. The river banks are very sparsely tim- bered, a deficiency we had occasion to remark during the remainder of our journey. Tlie valley of the Platte at this place is six or seven miles wide, and the river itself between one and two miles from bank to bank. Its waters are very shallow, and are scattered over their broad bed in almost innumera- ble channels, nearly obscured by the naked sand-bars that bechequer its entire course through the grand prairie. Its peculiarity in this respect gave birth to the name of Flaite, (shallow.) which it received from the French, and Chartre, (surface.) from the Mexicans. — the Indians, accord- ing to Washington Irving, calling it Nebraska,j a term synonymous with that of the French and Americans, — however, I am ignorant in reference to the latter. * Tlie great peril of our situation, and the pressing necessity of a hurried flight, may be readily inferred from the fact, that one waggon was freighted with a large quantity of gunpowder. None of us were quite so brave or present-minded as several Mexicans, in the employ of Messrs. Bent A; St. Vrain, on an occasion some- what similar. While journeying across the grand prairies, the powder-waggon acci- dentally caught fire, wluch was noticed immediately by the Mexican attendants, who hurriedly clasped it upon all sides, to prevent the vehicle from being blown to pieces, while one of them proceeded deliberately to extinguish the flames! Neither could we stand comparison with a lieutenant of the Mexican army, at Santa Fe, who, on opening a keg of powder, made use of a rkd-hot iron in lieu of an auger, for that purpose. It is needless to say, a tremendous explosion followed. Several of the by- standers were killed, but the lieutenant miraculously escaped. He soon after receiv- ed a Captain's commission from the Commander-in-chief, in consideration of hia indomitable courage ! t The Sioux have bestowed the appellation of Duck river upon the North Fork of Platte. 60 THEORY RELATIVE TO THE PRAIRIES. The bottom upon the south bank is between three and four miles broad, and of a hght, deep, and rich soil, occasionally sandy, but covered with thick and lusty vegetation. Back from the valley, ranges of broken sand-hills mark the transition to the high arid prairies in the rear, where vegetation becomes more dwarfish and stinted in its growth, and is intermingled with frequent cadi. These immense plains are generally clad with a short, curly grass, (the buffalo grass,) very fine and nutrit'ous, and well adapted to the sustenance of the countless herds of buffalo and other wild animals that feed upon it. Their soil is generally of a thin vegetable mould, upon a substratum of indurated sand and gravel. In many places it is quite sterile, producing little other than sand-burrs and a specimen of thin, coarse grass, that sadly fail to conceal its forbidding surface ; in others, it is but little better than a desert waste of sand-hills, or white sun-baked clay, so hard and impervious that neither herb nor grass can take root to grow upon it ; and in others, it presents a light superfice, both rich and productive, beclad with all that can beautify and adorn a wilderness of verdure. The springs and streams of water are " few and far between," — an evil, however, slightly atoned for by the occasional pools formed in favoring de- pressions during the rainy season, which are retained in their places by the extreme hardness of the soil. Were it not for these it would be almost impossible, in many directions, to travel the vast prairies lying between the Arkansas and Missouri, from lonsf. 22*^ 30' west from Washinaton to the Rocky Mountains. That this section of country should ever become inhabited by civilized man, to any extent, except in the vicinity of large watcr-courseSj is an idea too preposterous to be entertained for a single moment. As the reader is now inducted to the grand prairie as it is, it may not be amiss to say something relative to this phenomenon, before dismissing the subject in hand. The steppes of Asia, the pampas of South America, and the prairies of the great West, so far as my information extends, are possessed of one general and uniform character. There is something deeply mysterious associated with them, that puzzles the philosopher and cosmogonist to ex- plain. Why is it neither timber nor shrubs, as a general thing, are found within their confines ? Why have not the same causes operated here which produced the stately forests of other regions ? The above questions are often asked, and as often answered ; but never satisfactorily. Some respond by a reference to their frequent burnings, — others to some chemical defect in their soil, — others, to the disgeniality of their climate, — others, to their infecund aridity, — and yet, others, to the sup- position that some operation of nature or art has effected the destruction of quondam forests, and reduced them to their present condition. Each of these answers, though, doubtless, partially true in many re- spects, fails to solve the problem before us. Here we have, in many places, almost measureless extents of fertile soil, moist and abundantly watered, by rains, springs, and ever-flowing streams, with all the desiderata for the producing of trees, — and what SOMETHING TO LAUGH AT. 61 withholds them ? Other sections of country, under less favorable circiun- etances, are not wanting in this respect. Why is it? Timber of every kind adapted to the zone and climate will grow as thriftily when planted here, as elsewhere. The frontier forests of our Western States have been observed for years past to make slow but constant encroachment upon contiguous prairies, froin all sides, whfre, as yet, they have a foothold; — and why ? Partly, because their enlargement is not circumvented by those annual burnings that formerly devoured every tender shoot daring to raise its head above ground ; and, partly, through the operation of other causes, sure and gradual in their effect, which have planted the groves of other lands and taught their branches to wave in the breeze. Doubtless the same causes would produce the same results, all over these vast regions, as elsewhere. But, why have they not ? — why are the prairies timberless ? Simply, because a sutficiency of time has not yet elapsed for the operation of these causes, — timber has hitherto had no possible chance for generation. The phenomenon, if rightly viewed, w ill thus explain itself. Geology points to the time when these vast solitudes were the bed of old Ocean and the home of waves, — but, gradually emerging or suddenly elevated from the watery abyss, they now present some of the more recent formations of dry hind. Herbage and grass, being more easily propagated than tre^s, — sown as are their seeds by the birds and scattered by the winds of heaven, — in a brief interval, beswathed the new-born earth with smiling green. Thus clothed with verdancy, they soon became the favorite pastures of the countless herds that thronged them. With game, appeared the red mm to hunt it, and with him the yearly conflagrations that now repel the in- truding woodlands and confirm the unbroken sway of solitude amid her far extending domains. Here, then, we have spread before us the prairies as we find tiiein, — the problem of their existence needs no furtiier solution. Oct. 12/L Still continuing up the Platte by its south bank, we made camp at night near the head of Grand Island. During our progress we saw large quantities of wild geese and cranes in the river bottoms, that presented tempting marks for our voyigeurs. One of the latter, — a tall, raw-boned, half-crazed, and self-confident Missouri " Ned," — good natured and inane, — sporting the familiar soubriquet of "Big Jim," — wishing to prove the truth of the Dogberry axiom, that " some things may be done as well others," started to approach a large flock of sand-hill cranes, parading half obscured in a plat of grass near the road side. The wary birds, however, caught glimpse of the approaching Nimrod and flew. Still our hero advanced, crawling upon all-fours, to within sixt) or seventy yards of their recent position, when, raising up, he espyed an object which his excited imagination portrayed a crane, and promptly yielded to it the contents of his rifle. Of course the obstinate creature remained in statu quo. Re-loading with all possible speed, he again fired ! But the second shot proved futile as the first. Determined the next should count whether or no, he advanced still nearer, and had raised for his third discharge, before the naked truth burst 62 BIG JIM AND THE ANTELOPE. upon his astonished vision, — he had been shooting at a bunch of dead grass ! Shouldering his rifle he now rejoined the caravan, and was received by the wags who had witnessed his exploit, as follows : " Ho, Jim ! I say, Jim ! Did you kill it ?" " Hang me, but it stood fire v/ell, — didn't it ?" " Reckon you wanted a bigger charge." " Strange you couldn't knock it cold at that distance !" " May be your gun's out of order ?" "Yes. I'll beta stewed crane of it. Have you noticed the " s^/iis " lately ?" " Why, Jim. Really you've had had luck ! What, within sixty yards and not kill ? I can beat that, all day !" " Ha, ha, Jim ! Shoot him grass !" This rally was received, by our hero, in good part, who joined in the sport with as much guslo as though some one else were the victim. The day, however, was not permitted to pass without another display of the prowess of '* Big Jim." A doe antelope, attracted by the strange appearance of the moving cara- van, and impelled by its innate curiosity, had ventured to a tempting prox- imity. Mounted upon a fleet horse and supposing he could easily ride down the antelope, our hero started in pursuit. Intently surveying the passing scene, the agile animal permitted him to advance within a few yards of her before she took the alarm.. Now was a novel race. Away went antelope and away went Jim, in full chase. The former was soon far ahead, and stopped to gaze upon her pursuer. Supposing she had become tired and was about to yield, our hero came dashing on, impetuously, under whip and spur, fully intent upon her cap- ture. But, again, away went antelope, and away went Jim, whose steed, ambitious as its rider, and proud in its own flcetness, strained every nerve for the crisis. Even the antelope seemed to have found a champion to contest her unrivalled and universally acknowledged superiority. With distended mouth and protruding tongue, panting in the excitement of fear, and foaming in the vehemency of eflTort, she gained but slowly upon the bounding charger, as both swept over the prairie almost with speed of the storm-wind ! Now, again, she stops to gaze upon her pursuer. By this time all be- gan to feel an interest in the result of the strange race. The word re- sounded : " Go it, Jim ! you'll beat the beater, yet !" Once more, the antelope shoots from before both horse and rider, like the swift-winofed arrow twangfed from a giant's bow ! A broad ravine intercepting her course was cleared at a bound, and left the flying animal far upon the other side. At a bound the steed also cleared the barrier, but, in striking upon the opposite bank, it plunged headlong upon the yielding ground, tossing its rider far away in advance, all safely sprawling in a sand heap. The luckless wight, on recovering, found his noble beast so sprained by the fall it could scnrcely stand, and its every nerve vibrating with frightful tremors. Of course here was the finale of the race, as both now re- turned to the caravan, — the recent rider, on foot, leading his jaded steed»— BIG JIM'S THIRD ATTEMPT AS HUNTER. 63 the ridden slowly limpiiiir behind, — riresenting a marked contrast between the opening and closing scene. The ill-iated horse was too much disabled for furtlier service durinjr the journey. As our hero joined the company, tlie joke-loving wags again broke loose : " Well, Jim. I say, — ahem ! did you catch the tarnal critter ?" "Pooh! Why didn't you hold on, and nut let her slide through your fingers in that way !" " Why, man ! You wasn't spry enough, when you jumped off your horse, or you might have caught her — ^just as easy !"' " I'd hke to know what you was diving arter in that sand-bank ! — tlio antelope wasn't there !" " Oh, Jim ! Shoot him grass, kill horse. Me look next time he run antelope." The passive recipient of these sallies had little peace from lience- forth, and soon bogan to wish he had never seen an antelope or heard ot a crane. CHAPTER V. Deserted camp. — Big Jim's tliird attempt as a liunter.— Buffalo and other particu- lars.— Big Jim lying guard. — Butchering. — Strange selections. — Extraordinary eating, and excellence of buffalo meat..— Bmdy's I.'^land.— The murderer's fate.— Substitute for wood.— x\ stonn.— Game in camp. --Strange infatuation. ---Tenacit)' of buffalo to life, and how to hunt them. — Cross S. Fork of Platte.— Big Jim'a fourth adventure. Near camp was the site recently occupied by the Pawnee village, whose occupants had evidently deserted it with the utmo.st precipitancy, leaving lodge-skins, mortars, bowls, pans, and a variety of other articles strown confusedly upon all sides. They had doubtless become ahirmed at the approach of some real or supposed enemy, and consulted their own safety in flight. Having started early the next day, our hunter soon brouoht in tux hue antelope, the sight of which again raised the iimbition of Big Jim, who would fain do deeds of equal wonder ; and he accordingly strolled off into tlie hills with that intent. After shooting at several of the wary animals without success, he began to get tired of the sport, and concluding the " poverty-stricken " creatures not worth the powder and lead, set his face for the caravan Plodding leisurely along, he espied a prairie snake, and, o'erjoyed at the thought of counting a " amp, " gathered his rifle by the small, and brought it down with such force, he not only killed the snake, but broke his gun-stock short otf at the breech. With the pieces, one in each hand, he made his appearance before his comrades, who hailed him : 64 LYING GUARD. *• Hallo, Jim. What's that you've killed ?" " Gun broke. Why, you must have overloaded it !" " When'll you go hunting again ? — 'case I want to go too !" " Poor Jim ! Shoot grass, kill horse, break gun ! Wat in de vt'or. does him mean !'' " Never mind, Jim. Don't be skeered at these fellows. It takes you to play the devil and break things !" Towards night, several bullalo bulls having made their appearance, our hunter, mounting a horse, started for the chase, and in a brief interval, re- turned laden with a supply of meat. Camp had already been struck, and preparations for the new item of fare were under speedy headway. The beef proved miserably poor ; but when cooked, indifferent as it was, I imagined it the best I had ever tasted. So keen was my relish, it seemed impossible to get enough. Each of us devoured an enormous quantity for supper, — and not content with that, several forsook their beds during the night to renew the feast, — as though tliey had been actually starving for a month. The greediness of the '■ greenhorns," was the prolific source of amuse- ment to our voyageurs, who made the night-air resound v/ith laughter at the avidity with which the unsophisticated ones "■ walked into the afiections of the old bull," as they expressed it. " Keep on your belts till we get among cows," said they, " then let out a notch or two, and take a full meal." It was equally amusing to me, and rather disgusting withal, to see the " old birds," as they called themselves, dispose of the only liver brought in camp. Instead of boiling, frying, or roasting it, they laid hold of it raw, and, sopping it mouthful by moutiiful in gall, su-ailowed it with surprising gusto. This strange proceeding was at first altogether incom.prehensible, but, ere the reader shall have tollowed me through all my adventures in the wilds of the great West, he will find me to have obtained a full knowledge of its several merits. The beef of the male buffalo at this season of the year, is poorer than at any other. From April till the first of June, it attains its prime, in point of excellence. In July and August, these animals prosecute their knight-errantic campaign, and, between running, lighting and gallantry, find little time to graze, finally emerging from the contested tield, with hides well gored, and scarcely ilesh enough upon their bones to make a decent shadow. It is nowise marvellous, then, that our lavish appropriation of bull- meat at this time, when it is unprecedentedly tough, strong-tasted, and poor, should excite the mirth of our better-informed beholders. The night was a cold one, and claimed for it Big Jim as second guard. When called for " relieve," with a borrowed gun, he commenced his rounds, — but the cold soon drove him to the camp-fire. Here, weariness and the somnific effects of a generous heat, speedily found him stretched at full length towards the fire, snoring away at a soun4 ••ate, the subject of their combined influence SLAIGIITER OF BUFFALO. 65 The guard time had already expirt'd, and his partner on duty, perceiving the pleasant situation of tiie indomitable Jim, called the next " relieve,'' and retired. These paced their rounds, and the fourth guard succeeded, but still our hero occupied the same place in which he had lain his '• tour." The sentinels were about to take their posts, as a loud sharp voice resounded through camp. " Quit, there ! What d'ye mean ?" Hastening to the spot from which the cry proceeded, who should be seen but Big Jim, in great agony, rubbing his foot with mo.st pitiable grimace : His slumbers had been disturbed by a falling log, of the camp-fire, which had planted its glowing weight full against one of his fee-t, — becri^^ping tlie sole of his shoe and severely scorching its tenant, before awakening him. Dreaming some one had hold of his foot, and started by a sudden acuteness of pain, he exclaimed as above quoted. The sentinels laughed at his mishap, and turning to pace their rounds, drawled out : " What d'ye mean ? Sure enough, what d'ye mean ! Shoot grass, kill horse, break gun, lay guard, burn shoe, and scorch foot ; — all in two days and two nights ! Poor devil, — why ye no born wid better luck 1" With the morning, the subject of his recent adventures called forth fresh scintillations of waggish v/it, — while the unrivalled capacity of our hero, as a gormandizer, gave cue to the cuts that followed : " Well, my head for a foot-ball, if that aint the greatest idea yet. What ! — roast foot, hasted with leather, — and his own at that ! Such a meal none but Jim would ever have thought of !" " Why, man ! What put you in the notion of that dish ?" " Strange, indeed, if you can't find the wherewith to stuff your devil, without cooking your feet! Souse, to be sure ! Here, you can take my hat!" The luckless wight had now enough to engage his attention during the remainder of the journey, and began to wish he had never seen a moun- tain company, or left his sweet home in Missouri to cross the great prairies with such a crowd, — but all to no purpose ; he was too late to retrace his steps alone. Oct. I3th. Starting at early day, we travelled till about 11 o'clock, A. M., and halted for breakfast. The teams were scarcely turned to graze, when a dense band of buflalo cows nrjade their appearance, from the back prairie, wending their way towards the- river. Expectation Vv-as on tip-toe, and all appetites doubly sharpened for an anticipated feast, as our hunter and his assistant started to intercept the witless animals at the ri\ er bank. The two placed themselves in a chosen position and awaited the heavily moving throng, which soon advanced to within shooting distance. The sharp crack of a rifle now stopped their headway, and caused them to re- coil a few paces, leaving Oxio of their number struggling in death. An other discharge followed, and the atli-iglited heid were seen flying from their concealed enemy, with all the energy that innate dread of danger ana 6* 66 EXTRAORDINARY EATING. death lent to tlieir ready feet, — but not until another victim had dank the sod with the unsought libation of its heart's blood. It pained me, as I came up, to witness the noble beasts as they lay ex- tended upon the gore-dyed ground. But the present was no time for regret ; we were to feed upon their carcases. The process of butchering was a new developement of that most use- ful science. The carcase was first turned upon the belly, and braced to a position by its distended legs. The operator then commenced his labors by gathering the long hair of the " boss,^' and severing a piece obliquely at the junction of the neck and shoulders, — then parting the hide from neck to rump, a few passes of his ready knife laid bare the sides, — next paring away the loose skin and preparing a hold, with one hand he pulled the shoulder towards him and with the other severed it from the body ; — cut- ting aslant the uprights of the spina dorsi and "hump ribs," along the late- ral to the curve, and parting the " fleece " from the tough flesh at that point he deposited it upon a clean grass-spot. Tlie same process being described upon the opposite side, the carcase was then slightly inclined, and, by aid of the leg-bone bisected at the knee- joint, the "hump-ribs" were parted from the vertebrae; after which, pass- ing his knife aside the ninth rib and around the ends at the midriff, he laid hold of the dissevered side, and, with two or three well directed jerks, re- moved it to be laid upon his choicely assorted pile ; a few other brief minu- tiae then completed the task. Meanwhile, divers of the company had joined the butcher, and, while some were greedily feeding upon liver and gall, others helped themselves to marrow- bones, "iowt^tns," and intestinum medulcc, (choice selections with mountaineers,) and others, laden with rich spoils, hastened their re- turn to commence the more agreeable task of cooking and eating. The remaining animal was butchered in a trice, and select portions of each were then placed upon a pack-horse and conveyed to the waggons. The assortment was, indeed, a splendid one. The " dcpouille " (fleece- fat) was full two inches thick upon the animal's back, and the other dainties were enough to charm the eyes and excite the voracity of an epicure. The camp-fires soon presented a busy and amusing spectacle. Each one v»as ornamented with delicious roasts, en appolas, on sticks planted aslope around it, attentively watched by the longing voyageurs, who await- ed the slow process of cooking. Some were seen with thin slices from the larder, barely heated through by the agency of a few coals, retreating from the admiring throng to enjoy solo their half-cooked morsels, — others, paring oflT bit by bit from the fresh-turned hissing roasts, while their opposite re- ceived the finishing operation of the fire, — and others, tossing their everted boudins into the flames, and in a few seconds withdrawing for the repast, each seizing his ample share, bemouthed the end in quick succession to sever the chosen esculent, which, while yielding to the eager teeth, coursed miniature rivulets of oily exuberance from the extremities of the active orifice, bedaubing both face and chin, and leaving its delighted eater in all t,he glories of grease ! i^very man had now become his own cook, and, not to be backward, I closed in with the overture. Seizing a frying-pan replete with tempting levies from tlie " fleece," I ■^D," ,iirii-i life ca C3 »^ hi > o n CJ >« a > J JO > ii'i^Plfis • ( I r « • 4 t BRADY'S ISLAND. 69 twice subjected it to its duty, and as often its delicious contents found am- ple store-house ; and even yet my longing appetite seemed loth to cry "hold, enough!" The agreeable odor exhaled from the drij)pings of the frying flesh, con- tained in the pan, invited the taste, — a temptation claiming me for its sub- ject. Catching up the vessel, a testing sip made way for the whole of its contents, at a single draught, — full six gills ! Strange as it may seem, I did not experience the least unpleasant feeling as the result of my extraor- dinary potation. The stomach never rebels against bufllilo-fat. Persons, subsisting en- tirely upon the flesh of these animals, prefer an assortment of at least one third solid depouille. The voyageur is never more satisfied than when he has a good supply of baflalo-beef at his command. It is then his greasy visage bespeaks cojitont, and his jocund voice and merry laugh evince the deep-felt pleasure and gratification that reign within. Talk not to him of the delicacies of civilized life, — of pies, puddings, soaps, fricasees, roast-beef, pound-cake, and desert, — he cares for none of tat'se things, and will laugh at your verdancy ! f L; knows his own preference, and will tell you your boasted excellencies are not to be compared with it. If you object to the sameness of his sim- ple fare, he will recount the several varieties of its parts, and descant upon each of tlieir peculiar merits. He will illustrate the numerous and dissimilar modes of so preparing them, that they cannot fail to excite by their presence and appease by their taste the appetite of the most fasti- dious. And then, in point of health, there is nothing equal to buffalo-meat. It, alone, will cure dyspepsy, prevent consumption, amend a broken consti- tution, put flesh upon the bones of a skeleton, and restore a dead man again to life .'—if you will give credence to one half of the manifold virtues he carefully names in your hearing. Oct. 14th. We were early en route, and made some twenty miles. Our hunter, during the day, rejoined the caravan, laden with the best por- tions of three other fat cows, to add to the fund of life and good humor en- joyed by each. Late in the afternoon, we made camp opposite a heavily wooded island, called Brady's Island, in memory of a man, so named, who was murdered upon it by his companion some eight years ago. The two were connected with a boat, laden with furs, on its passage to the States. They had frequently quarrelled, and were generally upon otherwise bad terms. On the day of the fatal occurrence, they were left alone in camp by the rest" of the boat's crew, who went in quest of bufllilo. At their return, Brady was found lying in his blood, — kill- ed, as his companion affirmed, by the accidental discharge of his own rifle. The tale was received quite doubtingly, and its listeners were only de- terred from the execution of summary vengeance upon the murderer by thought of the bare possibility of its truth. The body of the unfortunate man was buried near the spot, — but being subsequently disinterred by the wolves, his bones were left to bleach and 70 THE MURDERER'S FATE. moulder in the sun and rains of heaven. Some of them were lying scat- tered near by, upon our arrival, which were collected by the sympathizing voyageurs, who bestowed upon them those rites of sepulture they had been so long and cruelly denied. The reader will naturally enquire, what became of the supposed mur- derer ? His was a fearful retribution, — a mournful tale of suffering, worse than death, till death itself in pity came to his relief. Soon after the melancholy incident previously related, the shallowness of the Platte river compelled the company to abandon their boat, and make the best of their way to the States on foot, — a distance of two hundred and tifty miles to the nearest inhabitants, either Indian or white. Their provisions running short, and no game at hand, a separation was had about midway of their journey, and each one hurried to its termination as rapidly as possible. The murderer, being but an indifferent walker, was soon left far in the rear. His comrades, on their arrival at the Pawnee village, sent two Indians to bring him in, and continued their course to Council BlutTs. Nothing further was known of the subject of our sketch, till some eight or nine days subsequent, when a small party of engages in the employ of the American Fur Company,»on passing the Pawnee village, were met by the head-chief, who requested them to visit a white man lying sick at liis lodge. They went. He was the murderer, at the point of death. His story was briefly told. The night succeeding the departure of his companions, in an attempt to light a fire with his pistol, to disperse by its smoke the myriads of mus- quetoes that swarmed around and nearly devoured him, an unknown charge it contained was lodged in his thigh-bone — severing it to a thousand pieces. In this condition he lay helpless. To walk was impossible ; — he could scarcely move, far less dress his wounds in a proper manner. He man- aged, however, to affix a piece of red flannel to an upright stick, to tell the transient traveller the site of his supposed last resting place, then, crawl- ing with difficulty to the river-side, he remained six days and nights — tor- mented by musquitoes, reduced by pain, and wasted by continued hunger, till scarcely the wreck of manhood was left him. It was then he longed for death to terminate his agony. Still he could not endure the thouglits of dying. Early in the morning of the seventh day, his ear caught the indistinct murmur of sounds. Were they human voices ? — No, he must be dream- ing. He hears them again. It is no dream ; — they are human voices ! They approach. Is it to his assistance ? O'erjoyed he beholds two Pawnees bending over him, with compassion pictured expressively upon their countenances. They gave him meat, — they dressed his wounds, and did everything in their power to alleviate his misery. Oh, say not there is no pity in the bosom of the red man! Having constructed a rude litter of poles, and using their own robes for his bed, they carefully conveyed him upon their shoulders to the place he yet occupied. But the care of sympathizing attendants failed to atone for previous neo- GA3IE IN CAMP. 71 lect. Mortification had already taken place, and death claimed him for a victim. He expired in the presence of those whom the good chief had called to his bed-side ; — but, before his tongue refused to speak, he con- fessed the murder cf Brady, and owned the justice of his punishment in all the untold miseries he had been compelled to endure. "Vengeance is mine^ and I will repay it, saith the Lord!" On resuming our journey the road gradually bore towards the hills upon the left, (which presented an outline of conical eminences, rising, as the traveller advances, to an elevation of four or five hundred feet,) and finally crossed them at the point of an angle formed near the confluence of the two great forks of the Platte, upon the east side ; from thence, descending to the opposite bottom, we reached a timberless spring and made camp soon after nightfall. The lack of wood at this place was readily met by tlie great abun- dance of hois de vache, (buflulo-chips,) the common substitute of the prairies ; and, in a brief interval, the camp-fires were merrily blazing, with all the appliances of cookery about them. Early the next morning, our hunter rejoined the caravan, bringing with him the spoils of two more cows. He had passed the night upon the prairie alone, without coat or blanket, or anything to screen him from the bleak autumn winds, that swept over the naked plains, dancing their dirges to the dying year. The sky gave evidence of an approaching storm, and we hastily started in quest of some more sheltered spot in which to weather it. A few miles brought us to the river, and, availing ourselves of a small supply of drift wood, we made halt. The combustibles the vicinity afforded were soon collected, and the camp- fires imparted their generous warmth despite the falling rain. Nor were they permitted to remain long unembcllished by the numerous kettles, frying-pans, and roasting-sticks at command. I here enjoyed full test of some of the many varieties of mountain fare hitherto so freely enlarged upon by our vuyageurs, — which, as they now asserted, would make a man " shed rain like an otter, and stand cold like a polar bear !'' — quaintly adding, " if he could always lice upon sucli ' didins,' he need never dieT I must in justice confess that the real merits of our present " bill of fare," by far exceeded my previous expectations. The rain continued till near night ; but little did we care. The choicest the prairie afforded, was now before us, and, rain or shine, we were con- tented. Sound in health and buoyant in spirits, we fully enjoyed ourselves, despite the trowning elements. A little before sundown, the rain subsided into a thick fog, and an old bull, in the consequent obscurity, straggled close upon camp. The abrupt passage of a rifle-ball through his lights, was his ^rst feeling sense of the presence of danger. The aflrighted customer then retreated a few steps, and, falhng, surrendered himself to the resistless power of cold lead. A large band of cows also made their appearance, in the same manner, and our hunter struck out to waylay them. 72 STRVN';!': IXr VTITATiOX. Permitting the unwitting animais to advance v^•ithin gooii shooting- di tance, a discharge from his rille brought down one of their number. Ti band then recoiled slightly ; but, snutHng the odor of blood, they returned immediately to their prostrate companion. This was enough, — a charm now riveted them to the spot, — a strange infatuation had seized upon them. They began by spurning the ground with their feet, — then, bellowing, gored the fallen beast, as if forcing her to rise, — then, rolling upon the grass, in demonstrative sympathy, — and, now that she had ceased to struggle and lay yet quivering in death, they licko her bleeding wounds and seemed to exercise a kind of mournful rivalrj in the bestowment of tlieir testimonials of affection. She is encircled by her companions. An effort to approach from without is resisted by those within. A fight ensues, and ail becomes confusion. Each turns against her neighbor, and continues the strife till the space around the carcase is again vacated ; whereupon a general rush once more centers to the spot, and all unite to react the former scene. In this manner they persisted in their frenzied devotion to the fallen one, as if determined to restore her to life and action, or perish by her side. Meanwhile the hunter's rifle had been busily employed. But they heeded it not. Four more of their number lay gasping in death upon the en- sanguined ground ; and still they seemed no more disposed to leave the scene ot slaughter than at first. Sixteen successive shots were fired, each bearing blood, wounds and death, and yet the spell was no nearer broken. It was a spectacle vested with melancholy animation. The pawing, goring, hollowing, licking of wounds, and struggles of rival affection, re- mained the same, with no visible abatement of tiieir vehemency. The sun had set, and the sable hue of twilight empalled the blood-dank slaugtiter-ground. The death-dealing rifle had ceased its sharp crack, and the gure-scenting wolves, half starved and eager for their supposed prey, came flocking upon every side, mingling their wobegone bowlings with the piteous moans of the spell-bound herd, and the loud whisthngs of the prairie winds, — and yet, they lingered. At last the impatient hunter advanced. More affrighted at the presence of man tiian the co.npanionship of death, they now gave way, and reluc- tantly leit the field to liim, who had so unfeelingly occasioned their burthen of mourning and woe ; — still, ever and anon stopping to gaze, as if longing to return and die with those they loved ! All iiands were now summoned to aid at the work of butchery ; but the {ast-cnsiiroudiug dar'Kness soon drove us back to camp, leaving the task not half completed. Our withdrawal from the premises was the signal for possession by the eager wolves, whose ceaseless yelpings the livelong night, made the gloomy interval doubly dismal. By morning, nothing but bones and thick pieces of skin marked the scene of their recent reveilings ! Thus early, I had learned, that to approach buffiilo with success, the hunter should carefully maintain the leeward, such being their remarkable sensi- tiveness, they will sooner flee from the smell than the sight of a man. 'Cheir sense of smell, with the wind, in fact, far exceeds their scope of BIG JIM'S FOURTH ADVENTURE. vision. It is so extremely acute, that even the fresh footsteps of a man. crossing their path, are to them a sure cause of alarm and flight. Of all the diversities of game indigenous to the mountains and prairies of the great West, with the exception, perhaps, of the grizzly bear, no animal is more tenacious of life than the buffalo. To sht^ot it in the head, is an inane effort. No rifle can project a ball with sufficient force to per- forate the thick hair and hide to its brain, through the double scull-bone that protects it, A paunch shot is equally vain. The only sure points tor the marksman are, the heart, lights, Iddneys, or vertebras ; and even then the unyielding victim not unfrequently escapes. Buflalo, wounded in the skirts of the lights, have been known to live for several days afterwards. 1 have witnessed their escape, even aiter the re- ception of fifteen bullet-wonnds, and most of them at such points as would have proved fatal to almost any other animal. In the summer of '43, I myself killed one of them, that had been shot through the pussy surface at the hutt of iKf hearty apparently four or five days previous, which doubtless would have recovered had it remained un- molested. A gun, suitable for killing this kind of game, should never carry to ex- ceed forty bal's to the pound — a lesser bore would be almost entirt-ly use- less. The distance generally required for a shot, the smallness of the ball, its liability to variation from the wind, with its failure to " hold up " and retain its Ibrce, contribute to render the use of such a piece little else than idle waste of ammunition. Oct. llih. The sun arose bright and clear, and with its first appearance the caravan was in motion. Proceeding up the South Fork some ten miles we halted for breakfast, and made arrangements for fording the stream. Near us lay the carcase of one of the cows wounded on the previous evening, and as yet scarcely dead. She had travelled thus far alter being shot in the lights. Our crossing was effected with little difficulty, but occupied t;ll late in tlie afternoon. The river was full a mile wide and very shallow, with a soft sandy bed, requiring the strength of all the united teams to each wag- gon. Tiie day proved cold, and the water was like an application of ice to the naked skin. Our teamsters, who were compelled to cross and recross, some dozen times, felt in not the best humor, and were better pleased than any one else at the termination of their unpleasant task. Having safely gained the opposite bank, we travelled up the river five or six miles, and halted for the night. During our course the bottoms upon either side presented one dense, interminable band of buflalo, far as the eye could reach. The whole prairie pictured a living mass, moved by impulsive dread, as the breeze heralded our approach, and the countless multitude made way before and on eithe» hand. Ever and anon, an old bull would linger, as if to intimidate, and not un- frequently venture within gun-shot. Oiie fellow, in particular, passed side- long, tor a mile or more, stopping at intervals to gaze upon us, shaking his shaggy head in defiance, as much as to say, '• you dare not come near !" liig Jim saw thi.-^, and his pride was wounded. The bull, in his opinion, 7 74 RARE POLITENESS. had challenged the whole party, and there was no one stout-hearted enousrh to accept it. Here was a chance for a full display of his bravery and skill. Evei since we had reached the buffiilo range, his proud spirit had yearned to be- come the death of some one of these terrible monsters, that he might relate the deed of perilous exploit to wondering posterity, and incite the risnig generation to emulate his noble achievement. But, alas, for the fadeless laurels he might otherwise have won, in an evil hour his rifle had been sacrificed for the extcrminalion of a huge, venomous serpent. He did the deed at one fell blow ; — brave, but unfortu- nate ! Yet he had one consolation amid his troubles, — no victory is ever gainod without some loss to the conquerors. Still, he needed his gun, for witiiout it how was he to avenge the foul in- sult the sav;ige beast of the prairie was even now hurling in the very face of the shrinking crowd ? Something must be done. With these cogitations, an idea struck him, — ho could borrow a rifle ; so, advancing to a comrade, he exclaimed : "Do lend me your rifle, one minute I" " Yes, Jim," was the ready reply. " But see you don't break it over the first paltry little snake you come across !" " That's a lie. 'Twas a big rattle-snake I broke mine over. 'Tv/asn't a paltry little snake !" Thus, vindicating his assaulted reputation, he took the gun and hastened to prostrate the impudent barbarian inviting attack. Jim looked at the bull, and the bull looked at Jim, — shaking his head, and throwing the loose sand from beneath him high into the air with his feet, and goring the ground with his horns of burnished ebony. If the creature had looked terrible before, he now looked fourfold more so, in Jim's estima- tion. Thinking caution the parent of safety, our hero was unwilling to venture further, and so, prostrating himself at full length behind a clustre of absinthe, (sage,) he planted his battery, having his high-crowned hat for a rest, and blazed away at the bull's head. The hardened wretch stood the shot without flinchinof. Lookingf for a moment at the spot from whence the strange salute had proceeded, and again shaking his head and snorting with scorn, he wheeled and slowly trotted ofl'. Eager to get a secona trial to finish the work so nobly begun, our hero commenced pursuit. Seeing him advancing, the bull thought it lime to show his heels, and in a few minutes was lost in the<^istance. The courageous Nimrod now, for the first time, bethought him of his hat, which, in the ardor of his bold charge, he had left at the spot chosen as his stand to hurl death and destruction to the naughty bull. He hastened to regain it—but no hat could be found ;™the winds had borne it far away over the prairie, to be worne out in search of a wearer, and tho unlucky hi-avo, hatless, rejoined the caravan. Here the truth at once flashed upon the minds of the waggish clique, that had hitherto proved his sore annoyance, and they began anew : " Now that beats me, clear out ! llow came you to give the bull your hat and leave yourself bare-headed ? That's another wrinkle !" SCENERY AT ASII CREEK. 75 " It's no such., thing," said Jim. " The wind took it away ; — and it's none of your business neither. I paid for iil^^ "True. But what did the wind want with your hat? Sure, if it needed a foot-ball, to toss over the prairies, it would have taken your head, the lightest of the two!" " You're a fool !" retorted Jim, indignantly. " There, now. That's the time you cotcht it, my boy. Why, fellow, Mr. Jeems took off his hat, out of pure politeness, — to win the good opinion of the bull. He were right. Didn't you see how the gentleman-cow boived and scraped in turn. Why, he throid'd ilie dirt clean over his hack, not to be outdone in good breeding ! Ah, but the pesky wind ! Wiiile Mr. Jeems were showing his brotten up, what had it to do, but to snatd'i his hat and run off with it ! Mr. Jeems are no fool ! and the feller what says he am, — (I want you all to understand me ; Mr. Jeems have been most shamefully abused and misused, and I can whip the chaps what's done it — provided they'll let me ; — I say, then, 1 want you all to understnnd me !) Mr, Jeems are no fool, and the man what says he am — is, — (I can't think of words bad enough,) — is — is, as near the mark as though he'd drove centre!" " Aye. Jim's right. You are all a pack of dough-heads to make fun of him in the way you do. Suppose you'd be struck comical I Then what'd ye think of yourselves !" " Poor Jim. Shoot grass, kill horse, break gun, burn shoe, scorch foot, and go bare-headed ! Wat him mean ?" " I say, Jim. W^hen 're going a hunting again ? — 'case I want to go 'long too !" CHAPTER VI. Ash Creek. — Pawnee and Sioux battle-ground. — Bread-root. — The Eagle's Nest. — Mad wolf, — Number and variety of prairie wolves, — their sagacity.— 3Iad bull. — Making and curing meat. — Big Jim still unfortunate. — Johnson's creek. — 3IcFar- lan's Castle. — Deceptiveness of distances. — Express from the Fort. — Brave Bear. — Bull Tail. — Talk with the Indians. — Speech of Marto-cogershne. — Reply. — Tah- tungah-sana's address. Oct 18th. Bearing to the right, over a high undulating prairi-^, we struck the North Fork of the Platte, after a drive of about twelve miles, and continuing up its left bank a short distance, camped for the night at tlie mouth of Ash Creek. The stream at this place is a broad bed of sand, entirely dry, except in the spring months. Higher up, however, it affords a generous supply of pure running water, sustained by the numerous feeders that force their way into it, from the high grounds dividing the two rivers. The valley is of variable width, and \vell timbered with beautiful ash groves, from which, the creek derives its name. Here are also found seve- ral varieties of wild fruit indiirenous to the mountains. As a whole, it 76 BREAD-ROOT.— THE EAGLE'S NEST presents to the eye a pretty flowcr-gardon, walled in by huge piles of argillaceous rock, and watered by murmuring streamlets whose banks are ornamented with shade trees and shubbery. Near camp had been the scene of a fierce and bloody battle between the Pawnees and Sioux, in the winter of 1835. The affray commenced early in the morning, and continued till near night. A trader, who was present W'ith tjje Sioux, on the occasion, describes it as having been remarkably close. Every inch of ground was disputed — now the Pawnees advancing upon the retreating Sioux ; and now the Sioux, wiiile the Pawnees gave way ; but, returning to the charge with redoubled fury, the former once more recoiled. The arrows flew in full showers, — the bullets whistled the death-song of many a warrior, — the yells of combating savages filled the air, and drowned the lesser din of arms. At length arrows and balls were exhausted upon both sides, — but still the battle raged fiercer than before. War-club, tomahawk and butcher-knife were bandied with terrific force, as the hostile parties engaged hand to Iiand, and the clash of resounding blows, commingling with the clamor of unearthly voices which rent tiie very heavens, seemed more to prefigure the contest of fiends than aught else. Finally the Pawnees abandoned the field to their victorious enemies, leaving sixty of their warriors upon the ensanguined battle-ground. But the Sioux had paid dearly for tiieir advantage ; — forty-five ol their bravest men lay mingled witii the slain. The defeated party were pursued only a short distance, and then permitted to return without further molestation to their village, at the Forks of the Platte. This disaster so completely disheartened the Pawness, they immediately abandoned their station and moved down the river some four hundred miles, — nor have they again ventured so high up, unless in strong v/ar- parties. About the same time the village on Republican fork of Kansas was also abandoned, and its inhabitants united with the Loups. The evidences of this cruel death-harvest were yet scattered over the prairie, whose bones and sculls looked sad, indeed. One of the latter was noticed, near camp, with a huge wasp's nest occupying the vacuum once filled by the subtle organs of intellect. Strange tenant, truly, of a human scull, — but, perhaps, not an unfit antitype of the fierce passions that whilom claimed it as their dwelling place. A specimen of the bread-root, (psoralea esculenia,) was procured from the creek-bank by one of the voyagcurs. This is very common in the vicinity of the mountains, and attains a size from twenty to thirty inches in circum- ference. It is taprooted, and generally prefers the rich sandy soil of bot- toms and ravines, — not unfrequently penetrating to the depth of five or six feet. In shape, it is much like the common beet. Its exterior is covered with a thick ligument of tough fibres, curiously interwoven, enveloping a white pulpy substance, which is very sweet and pleasantly tasted. The day following we proceeded some twenty miles, and camped at a ]^ace called the Eagle's iSest. The War Eagle. — Pagt 79. WOLVES,— THEIR SAGACITY. 79 A few scattering trees at the right of the bottom, here mark the transi- tion to the high prairie. One of these was the war-eagle's eyry, upon which she rears her annual brood, and teaches it to soar far away, or levy tribute from the surrounding *■. ilderness. The proud bird of Jove was yet sailing aloft, in silent majesty, almost lost to vision in the long space of intervening blue that told the grandeur of her flight ; and, tinged witli the purple and gold of the setting sun, she seemed looking down with a jealouo eye upon the unvvonted invaders of he earthly home. A few light clouds, garnished with day's departing glory danced athwart the western sky, as the full moon arose, hastening to re- enter her nightly pathway, and course amid the array of glittering worlds, and smi'e upon the wide realms of Solitude ; — while countless herds of grazing buffalo covered the prairies on either side of the broad and silent river ; and naught met the listening ear, save the dolesome hooting of the midnight owl, as she resumed her nocturnal ditty, to enhance the deep melancholy of loneliness; or the shrill whistlings of the prairie-winds, as they sported in mirth and chanted their requiems to the dying year ; or the terrific bellowings of the hoarse-toned bison, the softening cadence of whose voices sounded trebly mournful as it swept far along and became lost in the distance ; or yet, the dismal bowlings of the hall-starved wolves, that gathered by scores upon every hill-top and renewed, in more piteous accents, their ceaseless concert ; — all these united to invest the scene, so magnifi- cent in itself, with a savage wildness, at once incitive of terror and admi- ration. In our progress during ttie day I remarked, at frequent intervals, bare places coated with saline efflorescences, and occasional plats of fine bluish grass, (herba salte,) — appearances quite common from this onward. Our niglit slumbers were disturbed by the quick discharge of firearms, which instantly brought every man to his feet, rifle in hand. The cause of this alarm was the appearance of a mad wolf among the caravan ani- mals, and several shots were fired before the guard could despatch him. He proved one of the largest of his species, and looked fearful as his blood-red eyeballs and foaming mouth were exposed by the camp-fire. In the morning it was ascertained he had bitten nine head of horses and cattle. The bufi"alo range afl^jrds every variety of wolves, common to the moun- tains and regions still further west. Of these there are five distinct classi- fications, viz : Tlie big white, or bulfalo wolf ; the shaggy brown ; the black ; the gray, or prairie wolf ; and the cayeute, (wa-chunka-monet,) or medicine-Vv'olf of the Indians. The white and brown wolves are the most numerous, and follow the buffalo in bands of hundreds, subsisting upon the carcases of such as die of themselves or are slaughtered as their necessities demand. These wolves behave with great sagacity in their predatory operations, and appear to exercise a perfect understanding and concert of action witii each other on such occasions. First, stationing themselves by files at given distances along the course their intended victim is expected to run, two or more of them enter the herd of unconscious buffalo, and, singling 80 A MAD BULL. out the fattest one, drive it to the track at wliich their companions await to take part in the grand race. This done, the victim is made to run the gauntlet between two rows of wolves. As it advances, others join their fresh numbers to the chase, till at length, tired down and exhausted in strength, the ill-fated animal falls ready prey to their greediness. The poor creature is first hamstrung to prevent its escape, and then literally devoured alive ! The black wolf is seldom met with in these parts. It nearly equals the white and brown in size, and is fully as large as the common cur-dog. The prairie wolf is not more than half the size of the above mentioned, and much less ferocious. Its color is of a dark gray, and its fur quite soft and fine. The cayeute or medicine-wolf compares with the common feist, and is of a grayish color, much like that of the wild rabbit of the States. Its fur is fine and thick, and might be turned to good account for the manu- facture of caps, mufis, &.c. The Indians cherish many superstitious notions in regard to this ani- mal, and hold it in great veneration. They consider it as the messenger employed by the Great Spirit, on special occasions, to herald the approach of events interesting to the welfare of his red children, and for that reason they are never known to harm or molest it. Just at daylight, a large band of bufllalo crossed the river nearly oppo- site to camp. It was headed by an old bull, that led the way, grunting and bellowing as he advanced, as if in mock personation of the bugieman ot a corps of cavalry. Some three or four hundred cows and calves fol- lowed, side by side, with marked and regular tread, like platoons of infantry marching in set step to music, presenting a truly comical exhibition. A voyageur seized his rifle and saluted with its contents the music- master and captain-general of the advancing army, as he was about to ascend the river bank. In an instant the whole detachment to " rioht about face," and retreat precipitately to the rearward shore, with no other music than the clatter of hoofs and the splashing of water, or order than the confused rivalry for speedy escape from the unexpected presence of danger. o Oct. 20//i. Resuming our course, during the forenoon, the strange de- portment of a buffalo bull near the trail arrested attention. He was running in a circle, at the height of his speed, and narrovv'ing its sphere at each gyration. Several of us rode out to him, — but he stiJj, continued, (with frothing mouth and protruding tongue, swollen to the utmost distention of his jaws, rolling eye-balls, like globes of clotted gore; and bellowing for pain.) following the fast-decreasing limits of his strange course, regardless of our presence. He soon commenced whirling round and round, with faltering, half stumbling steps, and finally fell prostrate before us, apparently in tiie last paroxysm of mortal agony. In vain he struggled to rise, while his tongue bled from between his jaws, chafed in fruitless effort to close them, and his head, keeping time with the convulsive throes of his fast-waning strength, tore up the prairie-sod and lashed the ground in the mad fury of effort. BIG JIM STILL UNFORTUNATE. »1 The spectacle was one of the most striking exhibitions of excruciating pain 1 ever witnessed. Even the rough mountaineers were excited to pity, and gladly alleviated his miseries by hastening his end. A friendly bullet put a period to his sufferings, and placed him far beyond the reach of summer's heat and winter's cold, mad wolves and all the inexpressible horrors of hydrophobia. At our noon encampment we commenced the process of ' making meat," preparatory to passing a long distance devoid of game ; and, as the reader may be anxious to know what kind of an operation this is, I will explain. It consists simply in cutting into thin slices the boneless parts of butialo, or other meat, and drying them in tiie wind or sun. Meat thus cured may be preserved for years without salt. Ropes of raw hide were stretched around the waggons, upon which the results of our labor were left to the finishing effects of tlio wind and sun as we proceeded, — thus making an important saving in the item of tmie. It is astonishing how long a time Iresh meat may be kept without injury, upon the grand prairies, in dry weather, when it receives the free access of air. Some of that killed on our first arrival among bufililo was yet hanging to the waggons, as sweet and sound as over. I have knovv-n it to be preserved, in tliis way, lor ten or twelve days in the heart of summer. Meat, packed in snow, while in a frozen state, may be retained fresh for months without injury. I have known an instance of its being thus kept from January till June. The air is so pure and dry, it requires but little effort to preserve meat, for any requisite length of time, almost at any season of the year. Our hunter, having proceeded in advance of the waggons during the afternoon, was overtaken about sundown at a place selected for night- camp, which he had ornamented with the carcases of three cows, — and there again, was soon witnessed another display of rare feasting, such as mountaineers alone know how to appreciate and enjoy. The night proved cold and uncomfortable, and the bright-glowing camp fires presented most captivating inducements to the shivering sentinels, as they paced their dreary rounds, to step within its cheering influence. Big Jim, who was on the third " relieve," thought it too bad he should be com- pelled to suffer so much from cold, while a nice warm fire was permitted to w^aste its kind heat upon the bleak air of night, without so much as one to enjoy its beneficence. No, it would not do. " Why mayn't I just as well stand guard at the fire, as elsewhere? I can, I'm sure. I'll sLand this time, and not laij as I did before, and then there'll be no danger of falling asleep and burning one's self; nor'il they have the chance to twit me about lying guard and burning shins. I'll head 'em this time, and they wont know the differ- ence." So saying, he approached the fire, and, giving it a kick, extended his hands towards its blaze, — ever and anon rubbing them together and then again spreading them to receive its pleasing warmth ; then turning his b.ick to partake alike of its comforting inffuences and obviate tlie jealousy i-hat might otherwise bo engendered between front and rear. 82 JOHNSON'S CREEK. Now, he stands attent, — he hears somethinor move. He stretches himself to his lull height, on tip-toe, and gazes in the black envelope of surround- ing night, made doubly obscure in contrast with the refulgence of the camp-fire. " How dark it has grown !" so id Jim. " What can it be ? Wonder if it's Indians. Pooh ! it's nothing but the wind. Bless me, I can't see the use of a poor devil's standing guard on such a dark night as this ! (step- ping backward still nearer tlie lire,) he can't see nothing, if he does. F ergh, — what is it smells so ? (turning round.) Good gracious, hov>^ hot my back is !" The mystery of Jim's present predicament is easily explained. The skirts of his jeans coat, having come in contact with the wind-tossed flames, caught fire, and were burned to the shoulders before he was aware of the accident. The garment was rendered entirely useless, and even his panta- loons were burnt to his skin, in several places. Jim began to think it as bad to stand as to lay guard, and concluded that, of the two, fire was more dangerous than Indians ; — for, one thing was certain, the Indians had never yet injured h'm, but he could not say as much of fire I In the morning, as may be supposed, our hero's last mishap was the proliiic subject of comment, and the Vvags were promptly on the alert to amuse themselves still further at his expense : " Say, would you believe it ! — That's the way Jim 's hit upon to shine in this crowd, — he burns up his old coat to make a lighl .'" " Ah, ha ! So he means to shine by the light of his old clothes, and come it over us in an underhand manner ! Jim, that '11 never do ; — I tell you, once for all." " Wonder if he wont burn up himself next ?" " He ? No. He's too green and sappy to burn himself, and so he takes his old clothes !" " Poor Jim. Shoot grass, kill horse, break gun, burn shoe, scorch foot, lose hat, stick coat in him fire ! Poor fellow. No can do without Jim, no how." The third day succeeding the last mentioned adventure, we passed a stream, called by the traders Johnson's creek, in memory of a man by that name who w^as murdered in its vicinity, several years since, by the Indians. He was a missionary, and on his way to Oregon, with a party headed by one John Gray. As they were about to raise camp, one morning, a band of Yanktau-Sioux came charging over the hills, and preparations were made to resist them. Such a course Mr. Johnson felt scrupulous of acced- ing to, and stoutly protested against it, — affirming it to be wrong. As the savages approached, the ill-fated man stepped forward to meet them unarmed, despite the remonstrances of his comrades, — imagining the Indians would not kill him, as he was a missionary and had came to do them good. They, however, proved regardless of him or his intended good, and he fell the victim of his own foolish credulity. Three Indians fell in the con- flict that ensued, and he and they filled the same grave. l^E BRAVE BEAR. 83 Oct. 24111. About noon we crossed Gonneville's creek, a lart^e easteily affluent of the Platte. This stream also derives its name from a trapper, killed near it in an Indian fight, some eight years since. Upon the south bank of Gonneville's creek, ten or twelve miles from the river, is a singular natural formation, known as the Court House, or McFarlan's Ca&tle, on account of its fancied resemblance to such a struc- ture. It rises in an abrupt quadrangular iorm, to a height of three or four hundred feet, and covers an area of two hundred yards in length hv one hundred and fifty broad. Occupying a perfectly level site in ati opeii prairie, it stands as the proud palace of Solitude, amid her boundless do- mains. Its position commands a view of the country for forty miles around, and meets the eye of the travelle? for several successive days, in journeying up the Platte. We have been in sight of it ibr three day.-, and even now seem no nearer than at first, notwithfttandfng our course, meanwhile, has borne not far from a direct line towards it. Here, for the first time, I remarked the deceptiveness of distances, on the high prairies and in regions adjacent to the mountains. Sometimes an object will appear as if within a mile, at most, which cannot be reached short of fifteen or twenty miles ; then, again, objects will seem to be much further olT than they really are. I attribute this, in part, to three several causes : — First, the variab-e state of the atmosphere, in regard to density. Second, the absence or plenitude of humid exhalations and eflluvisB in the air of dilibront regions. Third, the peculiar locality of some places in regard to the reception of the sun's rays. In passing from Gonneville's creek to Fort Platte, we encountered no more buffalo. — these animals having been driven back into the high prairies by bands of t-trolling Indians. If the prospect had hitherto been lonesome, it now seemed threefold lonely. Tiie hard-beaten footpaths that had furrowed the bottoms and plains, in all directions, ever since our first entrance to the buffalo range, were still seen ; but, unhonored by the presence and unmarked by the loot- prints of their whilom travellers, they looked li^e the once oft-trodden streets of some deserted city. Late in the afternoon we were joined by tvv^o engages from Fort Platte, whose object it was to hasten our advance. Soon after, we entered upon a stretch cf burnt prairie, and v/ere compelled to travel till daylight the next morning, before a sufficiency of grass could be found for a camping place. Oct. 25th. Resuming our course about midday, we had proceeded only a few miles, when a moimted Indian appeared upon the opposite bank ot tlie river, and accosted us : " Chay, cullo ! — Hanno chaum-pa-monet ha Mena-huska tour ?" (Tell me, friend! — Are those the Long-knife's* waggons?) * This term seems to call for a word of explanation. Our company was (Io!'ij:^ate ■". J > 1 Chief of the Brule .?:oux. — /'a^'-c 84. SPEECH OF MARTO-COGERSHNE. 87 He appeared to be about eighty years of age, and was gray-headed, spare-visaged, and much wrinkled. His coat, buttoned cIose°around liim, served for a robe, wliile his matted ear-locks disclosed upon the one side a raven's and upon the other a hawk's feather, for ornaments. His fiice, like those of his companions, was liberally bedaubed with vermilion, and each cheek embellished with alternate spots of white and black, by way of variety. His only weapons were a bow, arrows, and a tomahavvk-pipo. As a whole, he presented rather a shabby and ludricrous appearance, that, were it not for the recollection of his worthy conduct, would have ex- cited, in the mind of the beholder, far more of contempt than interest. A Sioux squaw, the wife of a French engage, accompanying us on her return from the States, now received the marked attention of our visitors. It is rare that an Indian will shake hands with a woman ; but now, they might break through the restraints of custom ; this was a special case ; she had visited the white man's lodge, and could tell them many intere.-iing things, — she was something more than a common squaw, — they micrht shako hands with her. She was accordingly greeted in a most hattt-rinor manner, and found tedious employment in answering the numerous ques- tions with which she was plied. Continuing for a few miles further, we made camp just at nightfall, and were promptly joined by a new recruit of inquisitive visitors, irom an ad- joining Village. The whole throng of Indians now numbered some thirty, and demanded a " talk " with the Long-knife. Upon this a circle was formed, with the whites upon one side and Indians upon the other, when Marto-cogershne opened the harangue in behalf of his people. He commenced in a low, distinct tone of voice. His robe, dawn loosely around him, was held to its place by the left hand, exposing his right aim and shoulder. As he proceeded he became more animated, and seemed to enter into the full spirit of his discourse. The modulations of his voice, its deep intonations and expressive cadences, coupled with a corresponding appropriateness of every looli and gesture, presented one of the most per- fect specimens of delivery I ever witnessed. His speech, as imperfectly translated upon the occasion, rrn as follows : " Long-knife : VVe are glad to see you — we are glad to see your people, and shake you all by the hand, that we rtiay smoke together and be friends. " Long-knife : We are glad the Great Spirit has put it into your heart to return with the road-travellers, (waggons,) and the white bultalo, (oxen.) and the medicine-dogs, (horses,) bearing fire-water, (whiskey,) blankets, and many other good things, ere yet the chill winds and snows have com- pelled His children to light the lodge-fires of winter. The Long-knife brings choice things to the red man, and it is good that we trade. (Ap- plause.) " The Great Spirit is good to His children. To us He has given the buffalo, the elk, the deer, and the antelope, that we may be fed and clothed, and furnished with lodges to shelter us irom the storms and cold. To ua He has given the mountains and prairies, for hunting grounds. For us He has taught the streams to flow, and planted trees upon their banks, to give 88 THE REPLY. us food and drink, that we may meet around our lodge-fires with comfort and rejoice in His goodness, even while he spreads his white robe upon the hiils, and lays the couch of winter upon the plains. "All these — all this country — everylliing- that the Long-knife beholds are ours. The Yellow-hair* said truly, — all, all belong to us ; — we have them — the Great Spirit has given them to us, — they are ours ! (Great ap- plause.) "Long-knife: You have come to trade with us : — it is good. Your people are wise, and make many things ; — you bring them to us, and we take them ; but we give you robes and horses in their stead ; — we pay you for them all. Yet, the Long-knife pays not lor all he takes from us. " Do I say the Long-knife steals ? No. The Long-knife will not steal. He says, none but bad men steal, and the Long-Imife is not bad. But yet he takes our property without paying for it ! He kills our game, he eats our meat, he burns our wood, he drinks our water, and he travels our country, — and lohat does he give the red man in exchange for all this ? (Unbounded applause.) " Long-knife and friend : My people are generous, — they are brave,— iliey are all soldiers. The Long-knile bears the fire-water in his road- travellers, (waggons ;) — we have heard of it and are glad. " My people would drink of the fire-water tliat their strong hearts may become stronger. It is good that they should drink it, — it is good that the Long-knile should give it to them ; that we be twice glad to see him, and bless him in our hearts while we drink around our lodge-fires. (Ap- plause.) " Long-knife : Would you be our friend ? Then give us the fire-water. My people are generous, but they are brave. The Long-knife has taken our property, let him refuse not the fire-water, lest they be angiy and rise like the mountain bear, nerved for conflict. Then will they take it of themselves and avenge the wrongs of the red man .'" (Great applause.) Upon this, the Brave Bear resumed his seat, and the commandant began his reply, which was rendered into the JSioux language, by their inter- preter. The purport of it was : " It is true, the Great Spirit is good to His children. He made all things of which the Brave Bear speaks, and He has given them to his children. The white and the red man are alike his children; the buffalo, the elk, the deer, and the antelope, with the wood, the water, and the whole country around, equally belong to both. " I and many people have come as friends, to trade with you. We have smoked ^vith you before. The Long-knife takes nothing from you he pays not for. He buys the things he bears to you in a far distant country, and thiows for them the white-iron. f He brings them to you and swaps tliem for robes and horses. "He takes nothing without paying for it, unless it be that which the Great Spirit has given equally to his children, — the white and the red man. * This is the name applied, by the Indians, to Gen. Clarke, one of the leaders of the first party of whites that ever crossed the niountaina. An allusion is here had to an expression made use of in his talk to the Sioux on that occasion. t Silver. This phrase is the Sioux mode of expressing the act of paying money for any ar;icle. TAH-TUNGA-SANA'S ADDRESS. 89 " Would the Brave Bear and his people be friends to us ? We are friend- ly— we are generous. We will give tobacco to the Brave Bear, that he and his people may smoke and be our friends. But the Lono--knife will not here give him the fire-water. Let him come to the Long-knife's lodge, then shall he have of it a little, that he may bless theLontJ'-knife in his heart. The Brave Bear can have none now. " The Brave Bear says, his people are generous, but they are brave, — they are all soldiers. Be it so. My people are generous, — they are brave — they are all soldiers ! Does the Brave Bear wish ior fight ? My people are ready to either smoke or fight ! The Brave Bear says, unless I give him the fire-water for his people, they will nerve their arms for confiict, and take it ! Will they ? Let them try ! The Long-knife says, hi them try .'" The conclusion of this reply was received with a bad grace by those to whom it was addressed, and created great excitement among them. Seve- ral left for the village, obviously for the purpose of arming and returnincr w^ith increased numbers to the meditated attack. Meanwhile our arms were put in a proper condition for resistance, and all needful arrangements made to give the assailants a warm reception should they connnence upon us. This done, our comnmndant brought a few plugs of tobacco, and, laying them before the Brave Bear, said : " It is good that the Brave Bear ai.d his people should smoke. Here is tobacco, — let him take it to his warriors that we and they be friends ; — or would he rather fiffht?" Bull Tail. (Tah-tunga-sana,) who had had hitherto remained silent, now arose and addressed his companions: "Tah-tunga-sana is grieved at the words of the Brave Bear. Would my brothers fight the Long-knife, and rob him of wliat he has brought to us, that they may become fools by drinking the fire-water? " Who shall then bring us medicine-irons (guns) to kill our meat ; or knives to butcher it ; or blankets and be ads for our squaws ; or the red- earth (vermilion) to paint our faces when we arm for war ? And, who shall bring us all the other things so needful for us? " The Lono-knife will not do it. You rob him. No cue will brinff them to us. W^e shall be without them ! We shall be poor indeed ! "Brothers: Why would you drink the fire-water, and become fools? Would it not be better that the Long-knife no more bring it to us? We give for it our robes and our horses ; — it does us no good. It makes us poor. W^e fight our ov.'n brothers, aiid kill those we love, because the fire- water is in us and makes our hearts bad ! The fire-water is the red man's enemy 1 "Brothers: Tah-tunga-sana is old; — will you listen to liim. He has been always the friend of the pale- face. When first the Yellow-hair (Gen. Clarke) came to the red man's lodge, Tah-tunga-sana took him by the hand. He will always take the pale lace by the hand. He loves the pale-face. The pale-face is his brother, — he is uur brother ! — He brings us many good things. " Brothers : The Long-knife has spoken well. It is good that we smoke, — that we, and the Long-knite, and his people may be friends. Let us ar- 8* dO THE CHIMNEY. cept his present, and go to our lodges, and there tell to our children how kind the Long- knife is to the red man." The spcecti was received in silence, — r.o one expressing either approba- tion or dissent, as the old man resumed his seat. The Brave Bear hung his head sullenly, but said nothing. The talk had evidently come to a close. At last, Bull Tail arose, and, shakuig hands with the conmiandant and each of tiie company, took the tobacco and left tor the Villacje. Tlie others soon alter, one bv one, follow- ed his example, and we were finally rid of their unwelcome presence ; — not, however, until they had stolen an axe and several other articles, de- spite the strictness of our vigilance. CHAPTER VII. The Chimney. — A bet. — Spur of the Rocky Mou^itains. — Scott's Bluff. — Romantic scenerjr. — Mimic city. — A pyramid. — A monument. — An elevated garden. — Moun- tain 8heep. — An Eden. — Death in camp. — The wanderer's grave. — Horse Creek and gold. — Goche's hole. — Arrival at Fort Platte. — Remarks by the way. — Prairie travel. — Locality and description of the Fort. — Indian lodges. — Migratory habits of mountain and prairie tribes. — Scenes at Fort. — Drunken Indians. — Tra- gical event.— Indian funeral. — Speech of Etespa-huska on the death of liis father. Oct. 26l]i. Raising camp at daylight we resumed our way, and soon afterwards arrived opposite the -'Chimney," an extraordinary natural curi osity tliat had continued in view and excited our admiration for some four days past. This singular formation surmounts a conical eminence which rises, isola- ted and lonely, in the open prairie, reaching a height ot three hundred feet. It is composed of terrene limestone and marl, quadrangularly shaped, like the spire of some church, six feet by ten at its base, with an aititiide of more than two hundred feet, — making, tog:^ther v/ith the mound, an eleva- tion of five hundred feet* A grand and imposing spectacle, truly ; — a wonderful display of the eccentricity of Nature ! How came such an immense pile so singularly situated ? What causes inited their aid to throw up this lone column, so majestic in its solitude, to overlook the vast and unbroken plains that surround it ? The " Chimney " is situated about three miles to the left of the moun- tain trail, though it seems no more than eight hundred yards distant. U})on this question our party entertained no small diversity of o[)inion. Some of the less knowing were confident it could not exceed a half mile; and one fellow offered to bet five dollars he could run to it in fifteen minutes. * Formerly the " Chimney " was much higher than at present, and could be dis- tinctly seen in a clear day as far as Ash creek. The wind and the rain are continu- ally reducing it; and it is said to be full fifty feet less than it was nine years ago. Calculating from this datum, what must have been its altitude no longer remote than a couole of centuries ! A MONUMENT. 91 The banter was pvomptly accepted, and the " greenhorn," doffing his coat and hat, started in tVili expectation of winning the wager. But, in- stead of titteen, it took him forty-five minutes to reach the spot I The day after passing the " Chimney," we entered a broad defile of lofty ridges, and made cimp. This locality is known as Scott's 131ulf, which is, properly speaking, a wing of the Rocky Mountains. From Ash creek to this place, an almost precipitons wall of arenaceous rock, limestone, and marl, shuts the high prairie from the river bottoms. As tiie traveller procec as, this wall or ledge gradually increases in height, and recedes from the river, sometimes to a distance of thirty or forty miles, till it unites in a chain of hills, many of which are covered with sturdy pines, and others are mere hea})s of naked sand or indurated earth. The ridge then continues its course until it at length becomes united with the lateral chain of the Rocky xMouatains, wiiich bounds the " Plains of Lara- mie " upon the southeast. At Scott's Bluil" these hills crowd themselves abruptly towards the Platte, wdiere they present a most romantic and picturesque scenery. Our camp was in a rich opening, or valley, two miles wide, and walled in upon the right and left by perpendicular masses of earth and rock, that tower to a height of from three to eight hundred feet. In reaching it, the trail bore leftward from the river, about seven miles, through a level prairie, by which we were inducted to the valley, without any perceptible variation of its general surface. Near the entrance, upon our left, the spectacle was grand and imposing beyond description. It seemed as if Nature, in mere sportiveness, had thought to excel the noblest works of art, and rear up a mimic city as the grand metropolis of her empire. There stood the representations of palaces, with their domes and balus- trades ; churches, with their spires and cupolas ; and streets, with their gigantic dwellings, stores, work-shops, and ware-houses. And there, also, were park.-;, pleasure-grounds, and public squares, all so admirably defined by the agency of the winds and rains of ages, that the traveller might readily imagine himself to have arrived within the precincts of the desert- ed city of some peopleless country, whose splendor and magnificence once more than vied with the far-famed Palmyra of the desert, even in its best days. To the right arose a pile of sand-rock and marl in pyramidal form, three hundred feet high, tliat occupied its prairie site detaclied from hill or other eminence. Near this stood a more singular natural formation than any pre viously noticed. It described a complete circle, of one thousand feet in circumference, p.nd attain- d an altitude of not far from four hundred feet. Its sides were of great regularity, and represented masses of solid mason- work, rising abruptly till within sixty or seventy feet of the summit, where they accline in a blunt, ccne-iike manner, reducing the periphery to one third that of its base. At this point is rcj)osed a semi-spherical form, reg- ularly jutting with a gradual swell upon ail fides — then tapering to an oval shape till near the apex, at which th^ v/iiCile ma: s is jurmoi.uited by a rude imitation of sculptured ilame, pomun^- ujtwards to the sun, a^ if thi<» 92 DEATH IN CAMP. Btrange monument of nature had been erected in honor of the great source of Hglit and heat ! Still further to the right, upon the river bank, is another immense pile, exceeding either of the before described in altitude. It is an oblong square, and presents erect lateral walls upon three sides, leaving upon the fourth a gradual acclivity which faces the river. Its summit expands into a beautiful terrace containing an area of several acres, which at the proper season is adorned with herbs, flowers, shrubbery, and grass, like a pleasure garden upon some house-top, and commands a view of the whole countrv. lendinor enchantment to the neiohborinjj scenes. Its base is about one mile long by twelve hundred yards wide, and points endwise from the river towards the valley. Then comes the continuous wall which bounds the locality upon the right. This likewise presents a level summit, varying from fifteen yards to a half mile in breadth, for a distance of ten miles, wiien, slowly sinking in its course, it linally becomes lost in the prairie. Covered with grass and shrubs, it is the favorite home of the mountain sheep, where she breeds and rears her young, secure in her inaccessible fastnesses ; and ofttimes from its precipitous edge, at elevations of six or eight hundred feet above the adjacent prairie, will lier head and mammeth horns bo seen, peering in wonder upon the rare traveller, as he passes adown the valley. The interval between the two mural ridges is of uniform width for about ten miles, and is watered by a beautiful stream nearly tlie whole distance, when it inducts the traveller to the open prairie, — leaving the immense w^all which bounded it upon the leftward, at his entrance, transtbrmed to high conical hills, covered with pines, and almost lost to view in the growing space; while that upon his right, diminishing in size, gradually disappears and unites with the far-spreading plain. Most of the varieties of wild fruits indigenous to the mountains are found in this vicinity, and also numerous bands of bulRilo. elk, deer, sheep, and antelope, with the grizzly bear. In the summer months the prospect is most delightful, and afTords to the admiring beholder an Eden of fruits and flowers. ]\o higher encomium could be j)assed upon it than by employing the homely phrase of one of our voyageurs. In speaking of the varied enchantments of its scenery at that season, he said : " I could die here, then, — certain of b^ing not far from heaven !" Before leaving this romantic spot, feelings of gloom raid melancho- ly usurped those of pleasing admiration, by the death of one of our number. The deceased was on his way to the mountains for the recovery of liis health, with a frame fearfully reduced by the ravages of that fell destroyer, consumption. For several days past he liad declined rapidly, owing to the weather and the unavoidable exposure incident to our mode of travel- ling. To-day the cold was more than usually severe, and an uncomforta- ble rain and sleet commenced soon after camping. In an attempt to pass from the waggons to the fire, he staggered and fell ; — before any one of us could arrive to his assistance, lie had breathed his last. THE WANDERER'S GRAVE. 93 ■^#wv«M^ « We buried him upon the bank of the stream that wends its course through the valley. Darkness, with its sable pall, had enveloped the scene as we covered him from view, and left the winds and the wolves to howl his requiem, until the voice of spring shall bid the wild-flowers grow and bloom upon his grave. This lovely valley had before this witnessed the death-scene of one who left his bones to bleach within its limits. His name was Scott, from whom the neighboring eminences derive their present appellation. Attracted by the enchanting beauty of the place and the great abundance of game the vicinity aff >rded, he wandered hither alone and made it his temporary residence. While thus enjoying the varied sweets of solitude, he became the prey of sickness and gasped his life away; — and none were there to watch over him, but the sun by day and the stars by night; or fan his fevered brow, save the kindly breezes ; or bemoan his hapless fate, other than the gurgling stream that sighed its passing sympathy be- side the couch of death! There is a mournful interest and a touching melancholy associated witli this simple story, that must thrill with emotion the finer feelings of our nature. The incident, which had so recently transpired, contributed to en- hance these gloomy sensations to an extent I never before experienced. I felt — I cannot tell how. I felt like giving vent to my feelings in verse. — Yet, I cannot write poetry. I made tlie attempt, however, and here is the result before the reader : THE WANDERER'S GRAVE. Away from friends, away from home, And all the heart holds dear, A weary wand'rer laid him down, — Nor kindly aid was near. — And sickness prey'd upon his frame And told its tale of woe, While sorrow mark'd his pallid cheeks And sank his spirit low. Nor waiting friends stood round his couch A healing to impart, — Nor human voice spoke sympathy, To sooth his aching heart. The stars of night his w^atchers were, — His fan the rude winds' breath, And while they sigh'd their hollow moans, He closed his eyes in death. Upon the prairie's vast expanse This weary wand'rer lay ; And far from friends, and far from home,' He breath'd liis life away ! 94 HORSE CREEK.— GOLD. A lovely valley marks the spot That claims his lowly bed ; But o'er the wand'rer's hapless fate No friendly tear was slied. No willing grave received the corse Of this poor lonely one ; — His bones, alas, were left to bleach And moulder 'neath the sun ! The night-wolf howl'd his requiem, — The rude winds danced his dirge; And e'er anon, in mournful chime, Sigh'd forth the mellow surge ! The Spring shall teach the rising grass To twine for him a tomb ; And, o'er the spot where lie doth lie, Shall bid the wild Howlers bloom. But, far from friends, and far from home, Ah, dismal thought, to die ! Oh, let me 'mid my friends expire, And with my fathers lie. Oct. 21ih. The day being clear and pleasant, we travelled rapidly, and in the course of the afternoon reached Horse creek. This stream is a large affluent of the Platte, heading in the Black Hills, and, tracing its way in a northeasterly direction, through a timberless country, (in many places mere barren wastes,) makes its deboucliment nearly fifteen miles above Scott's Bluff. The region adjacent to its head is represented as being rich in minerals, among which is gold ; and from my limited information respecting its geo- logical character, I am inclined to accredit the rumor. The story runs thus : Six or eight years since, Du Shay, an old French hunter, while ranging in the parts above alluded to, on crossing one of the two principal forks that unite to form the main stream, observed a singular looking something in the creek bed, which he picked up. Tt was apparently a fragment of rock, very heavy, and contained numerous yellow specks. Having deposited it in his bullet-pouch for preservation, subsequently, in approaching a band of buffalo, its weight became so annoying he thought- lessly threw it away. The year following he visited Santa Fe, at which place his pouch was accidentally emptied, and, among its contents, several bright particles, that had become parted from the rock, attracted the atten. tion of the Mexicans. These were carefully gathered up, and, upon due examination, proved to be virgin gold. The old man, on his return, searched diligently for the spot that afford- ed the treasure he had so foolishly thrown away, — but (not being intellect- PRAIRIE TRAVEL. 95 ually one of the brightest gems of nature's casket, and feeble and childish withal) he was unable to tind it, or even to decide upon which of the two streams it belonged. Upon one of the affluents of Horse creek, thirty or forty miles south of the Platte, is a beautiful valley, shut in by two ridges of precipitous hills, known as Goche's hole. This locahty, in wildness and picturesque beauty, claims affinity to the neioborhood of Scott's Bluff. Its area is broad and of several miles extent, — inacessible except at two or three points. The surrounding hills are gen- erally composed of marl and earthy limestone. Towering in vertical walls to the height of many hundred feet, they present the appearance of a strongly fortified place. The soil is remarkably rich, well v.aterod, and timbered, — strikingly contrasting with the nude sterility and desolation of the circumjacent country. A heavy fall of snow during the night prevented our leaving camp until the fourth day subsequent, when were again en route. Having pasj^ed the night of Nov. 1st at Morain's Point, the next day we arrived at Forti'latte, This latter place is situated a short distance above the mouth of Larra- mie river, and is our point of present destination. From Horse creek to the Larramie river, the bottoms, in many places, afforded dense groves of heavy timber — tlie more agreeable as we Lad been so long accustomed to open and woodless prairies. The geological character of the country is nearly the same with that previously described — though possessed of greater humidity of soil. The formations, noticed in the vicinity of Scott's Bluff and Goche's hole, have merged into strata of limestone of various shades and compactness, with occasional layers of primitive sandstone. ^ The prairies were beautifully undulating, and covered with lusty growths of dried vegetation. The hills, now and then, were ornamented with a few scattering pines and cedars, which stood like lonely sentinels to watch the progress of changing seasons. As some of m.y readers may entertain the design of visiting these remote regions, or passing beyond them to the more distant shores of the Pacific, it may not be deemed a digression for me to present a few hints as to the most advisable mode of travelling upon this long and wearisome journey. A caravan of waggons should make only two camps per day. Travt hers should adopt the rule to start at daylight and continue until ten o'clock, A. M., — tlien, having halted some six hours, (if it be summer, if spring or fall, four only,) again resume their way till after sundown. Fifteen miles, upon an average, are as far as an ox team should travel per day, — mules or horses might keep on for twenty miles. Caravans ought always to lay by in rainy weather, as the wet and irrita tion consequent upon druught, gall the neck and shoulders of their ani mals and soon render them unfit for service ; — every precaution should be taken to preserve their strength and soundness, as upon them rests tlie sole dependence of a travelling company. A mounted parly ought, us a general thing, to observe the same rules, 96 LODGES OF MOUNTAIN INDIANS. and not think of averaging over twenty-five miles per day. They might travel later ; but in such cases, they should always proportionally lengthen their noon halt. In the above manner the entire journey from Indpendence to the Pacific may be performed without injury to animals, or the expenses attendant upon a relay. Fort Platte, being next to Fort Hall, the most important point on the route to Oregon, calls for a brief description. This post occupies the left bank of the North Fork of Platte river, three-fourths of a mile above the mouth of Larramie, in lat. 42^ 12' 10" north, long. 105° 20' 13" west from Green- wich,* and stands upon the direct waggon road to Oregon, via South Pass. It is situated in the immediate vicinity of the Oglallia and Brule divisions of the Sioux nation, and but little remote from the Chyennes and Arapaho tribes. Its structure is a fair specimen of most of the establishments em- ployed in the Indian trade. Its walls are " adobies," (sun-baked brick,) four feet thick, by twenty high — enclosing an area of two hundred and fifty feet in length, by two hundred broad. At the northwest and south- west corners are bastions which command its approaches in all directions. Within the walls are some twelve buildings in all, consisting as follows : Office, store, warehouse, meat-house, smith's shop, carpenter's shop, kitchen, and five dwellings, — so arranged as to form a yard and corel, sufficiently large for the accommodation and security of more than two hundred head of animals. The number of men usually employed about the establish- ment is some thirty, whose chief duty it is to promote the interests of the trade, and otherwise act as circumstances require. The Fort is located in a level plain, fertile and interesting, bounded upon all sides by hills, many of which present to view the nodding forms of pines and cedars, that bescatter their surface, — while the river bottoms, at various points, are thickly studded with proud growths of cottonwood, ash, willow, and box-elder, thus affording its needful supplies of timber and fuel. One mile south of it, upon the Larramie, is Fort John, a station of the American Fur Company. Between these two posts a strong opposition is maintained in regard to the business of the country, little to the credit of either. At the time of our arrival at the Fort, two villages of Indians were en- camped near by. Their lodges, being the first I ever saw, proved objects of great interest to me. The lodge of a mountain Indian consists of a frame work of light poles, some twenty-five feet long, bound together at the small ends, and raised by planting the opposite extremities aslope, at given distances apart, so as to describe a circle, at the base, converging to a triangular apex, for roof and sides ; — over this is spread a covering of buffalo robes, so nicely dressed and seamed, it readily sheds rain and excludes the fierce winds to which the country is subject. A small aperture at the top, affords passage for th© * Obs. Lt. Fremont, in 1842. CHARACTER AiSD CONDITION OF THE SIOUX NATION. 97 smoke emitted from the fire occupy iig the centre fjround work. The entrance is at the side, where a large piece of undressed buffalo skin (iiung from the top and so placed as to be opened or closed, at pleasure, upon the ingress or egress of the inmate) furnishes the simple substitute for a door. These lodges (some of them containing quantities of roofage to the amount of tenor fifteen buffalo skins) are large and commodious; and, even comfortable, in the severest weather ; the heat from the centre fire, being refracted on striking the sloping sides, communicates an agreeable warmth to every part. An Indian lodge, in the summer, is admirably adapted to the pleasure of its occupants, — by raising the lower extremeties of the envelope and securing them at a proper elevation, a free passage of air is obtained, which greatly contributes to increase the merits of the delightful shade afforded by the superstructure. A lodge of the largest size may easily be made to accommodate fifteen persons. The interior is arranged by placing the fixtures for sleeping at the circumference of the circle, which afford seats to the inmates, and thus a sufficient space is left vacant between them and the centre fire. This kind of dwelling is the one almost universally adopted by the mountain and prairie Indians, and is, perhaps, better suited to tlieir con- dition and mode of life than any otlier that could be devised. Dependent solely upon the chase for a subsistence, the various Indian tribes inhabiting the mountains and countries adjacent can occupy no fixed residences. Contrary to the habits of more eastern nations, among wiiom agriculture commands attention to a greater or less extent, they are continually necessitated to rove from place to place in pursuit of game. Give to one of them a bow, arrows, knife, lodge, and running horse, and he is rich, happy and contented. When the erratic propensities of the buftalo (upon which is his almost exclusive dependence) compel him to change his location, he has only to pull down his lodge, saddle his horse, and away. So accustomed are they to this incessant rambling, they regard it more as a pleasure than an inconvenience. 1 have frequently seen hundreds of families moving together, — presenting to the unsophisticated beholder a novel and amusing spectacle, — with their horses, mules, dogs, men, squaws, children, and all the paraphernalia of savage domestic economy, and the rude accoutrements of peace and war. commingled indiscrimi- nately. The Sioux tribe, to whose country we have now introduced the reader, is, perhaps, the largest Indian nation upon the continent of North America, w^ith the exception of the ancient Mexicans, if indeed they may be called Indians. This tribe occupies a territory extending from the St. Peters, of the JNIississippi, to the Missouri, and from thence to the forks of the Platte, and up that river to its head-waters. They are supposed to num- ber not far from eighty thousand men, women, and children, and are divided into many fractional parts, each bearing its own name, yet speaking the same language and claiming a common nationality. Of these divisions are the liriihs, Oglallas, Yanktaus, Piankshaws, 9 98 DRUNKEN INDIANS. Minecofeias, Blackfeet, Broken-arrows, and Assenaboins, with many oth- ers whose names have escaped my recollection. The only perceptible diflerence in language, is, in the pronuciation of words like the following, meallo, appello and Lacota, — those upon the Mississippi, and some in the vicinity of the Missouri, pronouncing them meaddo^ appeddo, and Du' coia. The members of this nation, so far as my observation extends, are a cowardly, treacherous, thieving t-et, taken as a body — and are w ell deserving the appellation of mean and contemptible; though there are some hon- orable exceptions to the remark. Any eflbrt to civilize them must necessarily prove tedious, if not alto- gether impracticable, while they adhere to their present roving habits ; — though three several missionary stations have been recently established among them, with slight success ; viz : at St. Peters, Lac qui Parle, and Traverse des Sioux. But the Indians of those sections, being under the more direct influence of the U. S. Government, have begun to abandon their former wandering habits, and betake themselves to agricultural pur- suits. The term Siuox, as applied to this nation, is of Franco-Canadian ori- gin— being a corruption of the word sued, and means dnmk or drunken, — in allusion to their excessive fondness for liquor and predilection to inebri- acy. The name by which they call themselves, and are known among other tribes, is Lacota, or Cut-throats, — for such is the literal meaning of the term ; and rarely, indeed, were ever a pack of scoundrels more justly entitled to the appellation. The night of our arrival at Fort Platte was the signal for a grand jollifi- cation to all hands, (with two or three exceptions.) who soon got most gloriously drunk, and such an illustration of the beauties of harmony as was then perpetrated, would have rivalled Bedlam itself, or even the famous .'ouncil chamber beyond the Styx. Yelling, screechmg, firing, shouting, fighting, swearing, drinking, and Buch like interesting performances, were kept up without intermission, — and woe to the poor fellow who looked for repose that night, — he might as well have thought of sleeping with a thousand cannon bellowing at his ears. The scene was prolonged till near sundown the next day, and several made their egress from this beastly carousal, minus shirts and coats, — with swollen eyes, bloody noses, and empty pockets, — the latter circumstance will be easily understood upon the mere mention of the fact, that liquor, in this country, is sold for four dollars per pint. The day following was ushered in by the enactment of another scene of comico-tragical character. The Indians encamped in the vicinity, being extremely solicitous to imi- tate the example of their " illustrious predecessors," soon as the first tints of morning began to paint the east, commenced their demands for fire- water ; and, ere the sun had told an hour of his course, they were pretty well advanced in the state of " how came ye so," and seemed to exercise their musical powers in wonderful rivalry with their white brethren. Men, women, and children were seen running from lodge to lodge with f 1 • \ 1 1 a » > 9 . " ft i ( c'" • ». c c c c » « c • c c < a » c f Indian Funeeal. — Pa^e 101. AN INDIAN FUNERAL. '\/'N/N».-V«*^' *%• 1^^ VV/ vessels of liquor, inviting their friends and relatives to drink ; while whooping, singing, drunkenness, and trading for fresh supplies to admin- ister to the demands of intoxication, had evidently become the order of the day. Soon, individuals were noticed passing from one to another, with mouths full of the coveted fire-water, drawing the lips of favored friends in close contact, as if to kiss, and ejecting the contents of their own into the eager mouths of others, — thus affording the delighted recipients tests of their fervent esteem in the heat and strength of the strange draught. At this stage of the game the American Fur Company, as is charged, commenced dealing out to them, gratuitously, strong drugged liquor, for the double purpose of preventing a sale of the article by its competitor in in trade, and of creating sickness, or inciting contention among the Indians, while under the influence of sudden intoxication, — hoping thereby to induce the latter to charge its ill effects upon an opposite source, and thus, by destroying the credit of its rival, monopolize for itself the whole trade. It is hard to predict, with certainty, what would have been the result of this reckless policy, had it been continued through the day. Already its effects became apparent, and small knots of drunken Indians were seen in various directions, quarrelling, preparing to fight, or fighting, — while others lay stretched upon the ground in helpless impotency, or staggered from place to place with all the revolting attendencies of intoxication. The dram-s., however, was here brought to a temporary close by an inci- dent which made a strange contrast in its immediate results. One of the head chiefs of the Brule village, in riding at full speed from Fort John to Fort Platte, being a little too drunk to navigate, plunged headlong from his horse and broke his neck when within a few rods of his destination. Then was a touching display of confusion and excitement. Men and squaws commenced bawling like children ; — the whites were bad, very bad, said they, in their grief, to give Susu-ceicha the fire-water that caused his death. But the height of their censure was directed against the American Fur Company, as its liquor had done the deed. The body of the deceased chief was brought to the Fort, by his rela- tives, with a request that the whites should assist at its burial ; but they wore in a sorry plight for such a service. There, however, were found sufficiently sober for the task, and accordingly commenced operations. A scaffold was soon erected for the reception of the body, which, in the mean time, had been fitted for its last airy tenement. This duty was performed by the relatives of the deceased in the fol/owing manner: it was first washed, then arrayed in the habiliments last worn by Susu- ceicha during life, and sewed in several envelopes of lodge-skin, with the bow, arrows, and pipe once claiming him as their owner. This done, all things were ready for the proposed burial. The corpse was then borne to its final resting place, followed by a throng of relatives and friends. While moving onward with the dead» the train of mourners filled the air with their lamentations and rehearsals of the virtues and meritorious deeds of their late chief. Arrived at the scaffold, the corpse was carefully reposed opon it facing the east, while beneath its head was placed a small sack of meat, tobacco and vermilion, with a comb, lookintr-orlass, and knife, and at its leet, a small banner that had been carried in the procession. A covering or 9* 1P3 SPEECH OF LOiVG BOW ON THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER. scarlet cloth was then spread over it, and the body firmly lashed to its place by long strips of raw hide. This done, the horse of the chieftain was produced as a sacrifice for the benefit of his master in his long journey to the celestial huntinor ground. The above mode of sepulture is that commonly practised by the moun- tain tribes. It is seldom indeed they ever dispose of their dead in any other way than by placing them either upon scaffolds, branches of trees, or in some elevated position, not unfrequently covered by lodges, where they are left to moulder and waste in tlie winds and rain, till the bones falling one by one upon the prairie, are gathered up by surviving friends, and finally entombed in mother earth. The corpse of the ill-fated man being thus securely fixed in the airy couch assigned it, to await the speedy process of dissolution, and mingle with its kindred earth, that its bones might find their proper places be- neath the prairie sod, the village once acknowledging him as its head now met round the scaffold, men. women, children, and little ones, to bewail the sad fate that had bereaved them of their loved chieftain. First, encircling it at a respectful distance, were seated the old men, next the young men and warriors, and next the squaws and children. Etespa-huska, (Long Bow,) eldest son of the deceased, thereupon com- menced speaking, while the weeping throng ceased its tumult to listen to his words : "Oh, Susu-ceicha ! thy son bemourns thee, even as was wont the fledgelings of the war-eagle to cry for the one that nourished them, ere yet thy swift arrow had laid him in dust. Sorrow fills the heart of Etespa-huska ; sadness crushes it to the ground and sinks it beneath the sod upon which he treads. "Thou hast gone, oh Susu-ceicha! Death hath conquered thee, whom none but death could conquer ; and who shall now teach thy son to be brave as thou was brave ; to be good as thou wast good ; to fight the foe of thy people and acquaint thy chosen ones with the war-song of triumph ! to deck his lodge with the scalps of the slain, and bid the feet of the young move swiftly in the dance ] And who shall teach Etespa-hus- ka to follow the chase and plunge his arrows into the yielding sides of the tired bull ] Who shall teach him to call for his prey from the deer, the elk, and the antelope, as thou hast done, or win honors from the slaughtered bear ? " None. Etespa-huska has no teacher. He is alone. Susu-ceicha is dead ! " But thou wilt soon gain the happy country. Thy journey is short. There wilt thou bestride the fleet horses that never tire, and roam amid the fruits and flowers, the sweet waters and pleasure-groves of that lovely clime ; for thou art worthy. "And, oh, Wakantunga! (Great Spirit,) do thou pity Etespa-huska. Do thou teach him to be brave and good like his father, for who is there to pity or teach him now he is left alone !" Then, turning to the audience he continued : *' Brothers : Strong was the arm of Susu-ceicha, and fleet was the arrow shot from his bow. Thirty and five of the enemy hath he slain in battle, whose waving locks were tlie trophies that ofttimes measured the quick THE COAST CLEAR. 103 step of the scalp-dance. Fourscore and ten were the medicine-dogs he brought from the land of the foenian, that their shrill neighings might greet the ears, and their strong hacks carry the people he loved ; for brave was the heart of Susu-ceicha ! "What warrior ever came to his lodge and went hungry, or naked, or needy away 1 What widow or orphan of his people blessed not their chief, when he returned from the chase and apportioned to them their wonted dues from the choice spoils of the buffalo ] for generous was the soul of Susu-ceicha. "Brothers : Susu-ceicha is dead. No more shall his voice be heard in your councils, or his courage lead you to victory, or his generosity rejoice the hearts of the needy, the widow, and the orphan. Etespa- huska laments a father and a teacher. The Burnt-thighs* a mighty chieftain ; and the nation its bravest warrior ! We all mourn him ; sor- row fills the hearts, and tears wash the cheeks of his people. It is good that we be mourn him, and mingle with the winds the voices of our lam- entation, for who shall now stand in the place of Susu-ceicha. " Brothers : Let us stamp his memory upon our hearts and imitate his virtues, that our acts may rear to him a living monument, which may endure till time itself shall die !" No sooner had the orator ceased, than a tremendous howl of grief burst from the whole assemblage, men, women, and children, which was re- newed in quick succession for several hours, when finally the bewailing multitude retired to their lodges. CHAPTER Vlil. Coast clear, and Trade opened. — More visitors. — Smoking out the natives. — Inci- dent illustrative of Indian character. — Expeditions for trade. — Black Hills. — Raw- hide.— An Indian and a buffalo chase. — Deep snow, extreme cold, and painful journey. — L'eau-qui-court. — Remarks. — Lost. — White river; its valley, fruits, and game. — Building site. — The Devil's Tea-pot, — ^Troubles with Indians. — Theft and its punishment. — Indian soldiers. — Christmas extras. — Outrageous conduct. — Ras- cality of traders. — "That Old Serpent."— Indian superstition, religious tenets and practices. — Notions upon general morality. The events of the day had for the present put an effectual stop to dissi- pation among the Indians, and not long afterwards they began to pull down their lodges and remove to the neghborhood of buffalo, for the purpose of selecting winter-quarters. The disgusting scenes connected with our arrival at the Fort had pretty much ceased on the evening of the second day, and everything, with a few exceptions, began to assume its wonted aspect. * This is the interpretation of the Indian name wliich the French have supplied by the word Brule. 104 EXPEDITION TO WHITE RI\£R. The winter trade was now considered fully opened. Parties were sent with goods from the Fort to different villages, lor the purpose of barter, and aliairs began to show a business-like appearance. Some two weeks subsequently, a band of Brules arrived in the vicinity. They had come for a drunken spree, and soon opened a brisk trade in liquor. Our visitors crowded the Fort houses in quest of articles of plunder, and became an incessant source of annoyance to the engages. One room, in particular, was thronged almost to the exclusion of its regular occu- pants. The latter, losing all patience, at length hit upon a plan to rid themselves of the intruders. After closely covering the chimney funnel, by aid of some half rotten chips a smoke was raised ; the doors and windows being closed to prevent its egress. In an instant the apartment became filled to suffocation, — quite too much so for the endurance of the wondering savages, who gladly with- drew to gain the pure air of the exterior. On being told it was the Long- knife's medicine,* they replied : " Ugh ! VVakea sutiello ha Mena-huska tour !" (Ugh ! The Long-knife's medicine is strong .') During their stay at the Fort, an incident occurred which will serve to illustrate a singular trait in the character of these Indians. A brave, named Bello-tunga, (Big Eagle,) received a blow over the head from a half crazed drunken trader, which came very near terminating in serious consequences. What would have been the result, it is hard to tejl, had not the whites promptly interfered, and, with much effort, succeeded in pacifying the enraged savage by presenting him a horse. At first he would admit of no compromise siiort of the offender's blood — he had been struck by the pale-face, and blood must atone for the aggres- sion,— unless that should wipe out the disgrace, he could never again lilt up his head among his people, — they would call him a coward, and say the white man struck Bello-tunga and he dared not to resent it. The services of his father, hereupon, were secured in behalf of tlie offending party, which, after great ado, finally effected an adjustment of the difficulty. An Indian considers it the greatest indignity to receive a blow from any one, even from his own brother ; — and, unless the affair is settled by the bestowment of a trespass ojj'ering on the part of the aggressor, he is almost sure to seek revenge, either through blood or the destruction of property. • This is a more especial characteristic of the Sioux than of any other nation. In fact, the Snakes, Crows, Arapahos, Chyennes, and most other tribes are far less nice in its observance, — though all regard the like an insult that justly calls for revenge. Soon after, an expedition was detached to Fort Lancaster, on the South Fork Platte, and another to White river, an affluent of the Missouri, some ♦Tills word, in Indian si2;niricalion, means any person or thing possessed of extra- ordinary or supernatural powers, as well as any act for conciliating the favor and j obtaining the a-ssistance of the (ireat Spirit. That medicine is the strongest wliich is ; tlie most efficient for its intended ])urposes. A PROBLEM IN MORALITY. 105 eighty miles northwest of the main trading post. The latter party included myself with its number. Our purpose was to build houses in the vicinity of White river, and thus secure the trade of several villages of Brules that had selected their winter quarters in the neighborhood, and were anxiously awaiting our arrival. On the last of November we were under way with two carts freighted with goods and liquor, accompanied by only six whites, one negro, and an Indian. Crossing the Platte opposite the Fort, we continued our course, west by north, over a broken and tumulous prairie, occasionally diversified by thick clusters of pines and furrowed by deep ravines, and abounding in diminutive valleys, whose tall, withered grass gave evidence of the rich soil producing it. To our left the high, frowning summits of the Black Hills began to show themselves in the long distance, like dark clouds, and planted their dense pine forests upon the broken ridges whose irregular courses invaded the cheerless prairie far eastward. A ride of twenty miles brought us to Rawhide, where we passed the following night and day. This creek traces its course over a broad sandy bed, through a wide valley of rich clayey loam, slightly timbered and luxuriant in grasses. Towards its head, it is shut in upon both sides by high pine hills ; but, in passing on. these mural confines are exchanged for the prairies, and the creek finally debouches into the Platte. An abundance of prelte and rushes afforded fine pasturage to our animals, and a kindly grove of dry cottonwood gave us requisite fuel for camp-fire. Before leaving, we were joined by another Indian mounted upon a dark bay horse, the noblest animal of its kind I remember to have seen among the mountain tribes. It had been stolen from the Snakes during the past summer, as its present owner informed us, and he seemed not a little proud of the admiration we bestowed upon it. The new comer proved Arketcheta-waka, (Medicine Soldier,) a brother of Bello-tunga, the brave referred to on a former occasion. Seating him- self by the fire, he looked dejected and melancholy, and his face bore in- dubitable evidence of a personal encounter with some one. On enquiring the cause of this, we learned that he had left his father's lodge by reason of a quarrel he had had with his eldest brother, — the latter having struck him with a fire-brand and burnt his body in several places during a drunken spree, — he was now on his way to White river, there to await the suitable time for revenge, when he should kill his brother. We told him this would not be right ; — it was liquor that had done him the wrong, and not his brother ; — liquor was bad ! He seemed to acknowledge the truth of our suggestions, and asked " why the pale-faces brought the fire-water to do the red man so much harm ?" Our trader replied, " The whites want robes, and can get them for liquor when nothing: else will do it." The answer evidently perplexed him, while he sat gazing silently into the fire, with his arms akimbo upon his knees, and palms supporting his chin, as if striving to work out to his own satisfaction this strange problem in morality . 106 PAINFUL TRAVELLING. The third day we resumed our course, and, after a drive of six or eigh miles, came upon a large band of bullalo. Hero, at our request, the Med icine Soldier defied Ills robe, slung his arrow-case over his naked shoulders, mounted his horse bow in hand, and started for the chase. At first he rode slowly, as if reserving the speed of his charger till the proper time. The buffalo permitted him to approach within a few hundreo yards before they commenced flight. Then was a magnificent spectacle. The affrighted beasts flew over the ground with all the speed that extreme terror lent to their straightened nerves, and plied their nimble feet with a velocity almost incredible — but they were no match for the noble steed the Indian bestrode. He was among them in a trice, and horse, Indian, and butfiilo were lost in identity, as they swept over a snow-clad prairie, in one thick, black mass, like the career of a fierce tornado, tossing the loose drifts upwards in small particles, that, in their descent, pictured while clouds fallinfj to the earth, ever and anon enshrouding the whole band from view. Now their course is turned and makes directly towards us. They pass, all foaming with sweat — with lolling tongues and panting breath — but they still seem loath to abate from the energy of their wild terror. Soon the Indian and his gallant steed part from them. He has selected the choicest of the band and pursues her singly. Side by side both cow and horse keep even pace, while the ready archer {)ours in his arrows, — some of them, forcing their entire way through the bleeding beast, fall loosely to the ground upon the opposite side. At length, spent by the toilsome flight, exhausted by loss of blood, and pierced through her vitals by the practised marksman that I'oUows her, she halts for fight. Now, she plunges with mad fury at the horse, — the well-trained steed clears the force of her charge at a bound. Again, she halts, — the blood spouts from her nostrils and mouth — she staggers. Again, she musters her expiring energies for one more desperate onset at her enemy, as if deter- mined, if die she must, not to die unavenged. Her charge proves futile as the former. A death-sickness comes over her. Her life is last ebbing from within her. She reels, — she totters — she falls, — and breathes her life away upon the blood-dyed snow. A few moments' delay put us in possession of an ample supply of fresh meat, — the Indian reserving the robe only as his share. The cow proved a most excellent selection, and did honor to the judgment of the hunter. As we travelled on, the snow, which scarcely an hour since had first attracted our attention, became deeper and deeper, and our progress more tedious and difficult. From bare ground and comparatively moderate climate, we were fully inducted to the region of snow, ice, and winter. The prairie was high and undulating. To our left an immense wall of secondary rock surmounted a ridge of naked hills, that described in its course the curve of a rainbow, enclosing upon three sides a large valley facing the east, — thence, stretch- ing westward and raising higher and higher, hastened to mingle its heads among the cloud-capped suanaits and snows of the neighboring moun- tains. From a light coating of loose snow our course soon became obstructed C3 O • ) J < c * 1 t L'EAU-QUI-COURT.— REMARKS. 109 by still deepening layers, covered with a thick crust, scarcely strong enough to bear our weight, but quite sufficient to wrench and jar us at every step, and make our advance threefold tiresome. The cold was so intense, we were forced to walk to keep from freezing. Our difficulties thickened the farther we progressed. Night closed in upon us, and we could no longer distinguish our course. Yet we kept on, in hopes of reaching some creek or spring where we might await the coming day. Slowly, onward, — plunge, plunge, at every step ; — now prostrate at full length upon the hard crust, and then again staggering in resistless mimicry of drunken men. The chill winds sweeping over the dreary expanse pierced us through at each whiff, and seemed to penetrate every nerve, and joint, and muscle, as if to transform our hearts' blood into icicles. But still it was plunge, plunge along ; onward, plunge, fall ; but yet onward ! There is no stopping place here, — 'tis push on or die ! Thus, travelling for three or four hours, not knowing whither, we came finally to the lee\v'ard of a high hill. The agreeable change produced by the absence of wind, called forth a hearty response. " Camp, ho," was echoed upon all sides. But here was no water for ourselv^es or our animals. We must yet go on. Still we lingered — loath to leave the favored spot. The Indian, who had been absent for a brief space, now came up, shout- ing : " Mine, washtasta !" (Water, very good !) " Tarkoo mine V a. ked the trader. (What water ?) " Mine-loosa. Tunga warkpollo." (Running-water. A large creek.) It proved L'eau-qui-court, the stream upon which we had intended to pass the night. Pushing on, a few moments brought us to its banks, in a deep valley covered with snow. A fire was then promptly built irom a small quantity of wood we had the precaution to take with us from Rawhide, and all hands were soon as c mlbrtably conditioned as circum.-tances would adm't. A hearty supper serve I to appease the appetites so keenly sharpened by a toilsome journey of thirty miles, occupying from sunrise till ten o'clock at night. This over, each one cleared for himself a place upon the frozen ground, and, spreading down his bed, quickly forgot Iiis cares and sufferings in the welcome emurace of sleep. L'eau-qui-court, or Running- water, heads in a small lake under the base of the first range of Black Hills, and, following an easternly course, empties into the Missouri, about one hundred and fifty or two hundred miles above Council Bluff. It derives its name from the rapidity of its current, which rolls over a pebbly bed with great velocity. At this place it is narrow and deep, with steep banks, and not a stick of timber is to be found on it, above or below, for twenty miles. At the lake where it heads, there is an abundance of timber ; large groves of cotton- wood are also found at some distance below our present camp. The intermediate country, from Rawhide, is a cold and cheerless expanse almost at all seasons of the year. From the commencement of fall to the very close of spring, it is subject to frost and snow ; — for what cause, 110 WHITE RIVER SCENERY. it is hard to conjecture. Its surface, though quite elevated, is not sufficiently so to make such marked dilfcrcnce in climate between it and Adjoining sections. The next day proved cloudy; we, however, resumed our course which led over a rough, tumulous country, covered with snow and darkened by occasional clusters of pines. Early in the morning our Indians left us and took a nearer route to the village. Soon after we became bewildered in the obscurity of the atmos- phere, and travelled till night unconscious whether right or WTong. Finally, coming to a deep ravine that obstructed further progress, we turned to a neighboring grove of pines, at the point of an eminence, and made camp. It was a bleak airy place, but by aid of a huge lire of dry pine we were quite comfortable, despite a heavy fall of snow during the night. With the morning our perplexities w'ere renewed. Directly in front lay a broad and impassable ravine, beyond which a high mountain range arose to view. Should we go up or down ? After much debate we decided upon the latter, and, bearing northward daring the day, struck the head of a stream which subsequently proved White river. This stream traces its way through a broad valley, enclosed upon either eide by high pine hills. Its banks are studded with thick groves of cotton- wood, elm, ash, box-elder, and willow, — with nearly all the varieties of fruit-bearinfT shrubs and trees indigenous to the mountains. In the item of plums and cherries, it gave evidence of exuberant fecundity. The bushes, in many instances, yet bore the dried relics of their burthen, as if to tempt the beholder's taste, — while the tall grass and rosebuds,* every where attested the summer-verdure and beauty of the valley in which they grew. The snow that had hitherto impeded our progress, now gradually became less as Vv'e advanced down the valley, and soon gave place to bare ground. Game appeared in great numbers, attracted from the adjoining hills to pass the winter in this inviting locality. A journey of two days brought us to the site selected for houses, and, consequently to a halt, for the present. The place was surrounded by wild and romantic scenery. Directly in front, upon the opposite side of the creek, arose a perpendicular wall of marl and half lormcd sandstone, towering, stratum above stratum, to a height of three or four hundred feet, and overlooking the valley above and below, — while furtiier on, a steep hill-side, covered with tall, straight, and almost branchless pines, burst upon the view. Rearward a gradual acclivity led to a high plateau, some two miles broad, coaled with long, tall grass, when a ridge of abrupt pine hills in- troduced the more distant mountains, with their rugged sides and frowning summits, — and, higher up, an immense pile of earthy hmestone, sur- ♦RoFebuds are found in great quantities in niany places, throughout the mountains, during the winter, and attain a large size, 'lliey are highly esteemed by many as an article of food, and have not unfrequently been the means of preserving life in cases •f extreme hunger and lack cf other eatables. A THIEF PUNISHED. Ill mounting a wing of hills as it approached the river, presented a medley of curious and fantastic shapes, — objects alike of amusement and wonder. One of the latter, denominated the " Devil's Tea-pot," exhibited exter- nally an almost perfect facsimile of that kind of vessel. It was of gigantic proportions, — being one hundred feet high, and, occupying a conspicuous position, may be seen for a distance of many miles. The Indians from a near village, immediately upon our arrival, came flocking around for the threefold purpose of begring, trading and stealii:»g ; and, from this forward, we rarely experienced an interval free from their anoyance. Prompt arrangements were here commenced for building a store room and trading house; — but meanwhile, we were forced to keep strict guard both night and day. Tvv'o braves were secured to " act soldier," and assist in keeping the thieving propensities of their people in check. Yet, notwithstanding the united vigilance of all hands, the latter would frequently perpetrate their petit larcenies under our very eyes, without b?ing detected in the act, — so adroit were they at the business. An instance of this kind happening to myself is perhaps worth relating. Previously to the erection of houses, we were necessitated to sleep in the open air. Wearied by the lateness of the hour, one night I spread dov;n my couch by the camp-fire, with the intention of retiring. The weather being very cold, I had scarcely turned to warm myself, when a backward glance revealed the sudden disappearance of my sleeping appendages — robes blankets and all ! Informing the trader of my mishap, and catching a glimpse of the thief as he dodged past a knot of Indians at the further extremity of the camp, gun in hand, I started after the nimble lark ; but the thick bushes and darkness soon shut him from view and left me in fruitless pursuit. At length, relinquishing the hope of ever regaining the stolen articles, and vexed at the impious savage, who, instead of obeying the Scripture in- junction of " take up thy bed and walk^"" had snatched my bed and run ! I returned to camp. Here I was shown a robe, by the trader, that had been brought in scarcely a minute beiore and offered in barter for hquor ; — it was one of the two I had lost. The bearer was now promply charged as being accessory to the theft This he stoutly denied, alleging that the robe had been given him by an- other ludian for the purpose he had offered it. Upon this tlie affair was referred to our soldiers, who, after much parley- ing and no little threatening, succeeded in causing him to return the mis- sing articles. The fellow then demanded of me a cup of liquor as pay for bringing them back. Mustering to my aid a few words of Sioux, I replied : " Mea warche yau wechacha ceicha, opata-ne ha warktash-ne coga ! — I neither like bad men, nor will I pay for doing bad." Marto-nazher, (Standing Bear,) one of our soldiers, on hearing my an- swer, arose and addressed the crowd in an earnest and impressive manner. He was grieved on account of the many depredations continually commit- ted by his people upon the property of the whites. It is wrong — very wrong, said he, to conduct in this manner;— if such wickediii?ss is allow- 112 INDIAN SOLDIERS. ed, tlie whites will abandon the country. Wliites do not steal from us. — Something must be done — an example must be had — the perpetrators of these outrages must be punished. " You, Schena-sarpah," he continued, throwing his piercing glance full upon the cliop-fallen culprit, who hung his head for shame at being caught in a n)anner so little to his credit, " Aye, you iScena-sarpah do carry a bow and arrows ; you call yourself a brave ; and yet you steal from our friends, the pale-faces ! " Do brave men steal from their friends ? No ! Schena-sarpah should alone steal from his enemies, if he be a brave man and a soldier. " Who are they that steal from their friends ? Squaws and children, as Schena-sarpah well knows. Then he is no better than they ! Why should he carry a bow ? Why go to war, or follow the chase ? Squaws and children do neither. None but brave men go to war — none but they sliould follow the chase. " Schena-sarpa needs no bow. Let him go to his lodge. There let him make robes and moccasins for braves, and take care of ciiildren with squaws, — for such should be his occupation, and only such should be his com[)anions !" So saying, he approached the unresisting thief, and, taking from him his bow, arrows, and panther-skin quiver, resumed his seat. Then, breaking the arrows and shooting theui away, one by one, among the trees, he snap- ped the bov>A across his knee and threw it into the fire. The bright flame from the burning bow had barely died away, when the quiver was consign- ed to the same tate. As the last fragments of the eifeminatc's weapons mouldered to ashes, a smile of satisfaction played upon the countenance of the Standing Bear, at the thought of having avenged the wrongs of the white man. And, truly, this was an infliction of summary punishment. The amount of })ropcrty destroyed exceeded the value of a horse, and, in the estimation of an Indian, constitutes a man's chief wealth. The offender was thus not only left disarmed by the operation, but made poor, and reduced to a level witli the squaws and children to whom he Vv^as set apart. He be- moaned his loss most piteously, and started for his lodge, bellowing like a motherless calf. Another instance of theft occurred soon after, almost as remarkable. A robe was stolen from ofl* one of our party, while he was asleep, and barter- ed for whiskey, without his knowing it ! Our Indian soldiers were of ffreat service in conducting the trade. If any difficulty occurred, they were ahvays at hand to assist in its adjustment, and preserve order and quiet so far as lay in their powder. If any visitor became troublesome, they at once ordered him to his lodge, and enforced their commands in case of resistance. Every trader is necessitated to employ one or more braves to assist him in his business at the villages. An Indian considers it a great honor thus to receive the confidence of a white man and " act soldier " for him. as he denominates it. Some of them have not unfrequently gone so far as to kill those of their people who proved guilty of misusing the traders by whom they were employed. OUTRAGEOUS CONDUCT. II3 — r ni — LJ^ji They exercise a kind of supervisory office in the management of affairs which could not well be dipcnsed with, — and very often have the hves of traders been preserved by the judgment and discretion of these men. Dec. 25th. Christmas finds us in our new residence, which, with the ex- ception of a chimney, is now completed. This great annual festival is observed with all the exhilarating hilarity and good cheer that circumstances will allow. Several little extras for the occasion have been procured from the Indians, which prove quite whole- some and pleasant-tasted. One of these, called washena, consists of dried meat pulverized and mixed with marrow ; another is a preparation of cherries, preserved when first picked by pounding and sun-drying them, (they are served by mixing them with bouillie, or the liquor of fresh-boiled meat, thus giving to it an agreeable winish taste ;) a third is marrow-fat, an article in many respects superior to butter ; and, lastly, we obtained a kind of flour made from the pomme blanc, (white apple,) answering very well as a substitute for that of grain. The above assortment, with a small supply of sugar and coffee, as well as several other dainties variously prepared, affords an excellent dinner, — and, though different in kind, by no means inferior in quality to the generalitj of dinners for which the day is noted in more civilized communities. The day following our turbulent neighbors were augmented in num. ber by the accession of another village of Brules, and Marto-cogershne, of" whom I have spoken upon a former occasion, became with his family our constant annoyance. Visiting us at one time, squaws and all — as was his daily custom — to beg liquor, (which, some way or other, he always obtained,) the brother of our tormentor demanded a quantity of that article to take with him to his lodge. This, after many sharp words, was offered; but, having no vessel for its conveyance, he extended his demands to a kettle, — which, of course, was refused ; whereupon he threatened vengeance unless both were forth- coming upon the mocosco* (prairie,) and required still farther the gift of a pair of moccasins. Our trader replied, " The liquor is for you, and here are the moccasins, (pulling off his own and passing them to him,) but the kettle you cannot have." The affair thus ended for the present, and the modest beggar retired to his lodge. The next morning, however, two of our horses were found pierced with arrows, and so badly, that they died soon after. At another time, Marto-couershne became so enraoed at beint; refused a whole keg of liquor " on the prairie," he rushed upon the trader with his butcher-knife to kill hiin. What would have been the result, it is hard to tell, had I not stayed the descending weapon by seizing the fellow's arm. Here our soldiers interfered and put him out of the house, — closing the door upon him. The exasperated savage then commenced shooting upon us through the door ; — two Indian boys passing in the interval also furnish- *This expression implies the bestowment of anything as a free gift. It is also used to denote a random way of spealdng with regard to truth. 10* 114 INDIAN SUPERSTITIONS. ed marks for his gfun, and not long subsequently a mule and an ox belong- ing to us fell to appease his insulted dignity. However, the chef cfouxre of his rascality was exhibited in stealing our whole cavallard,* consisting of ten head of horses and mules, which he drove into the mountains. We were compelled to give a quantity of liquor and ammunition, two blankets, and several other articles before we could secure their return. From the movement of things, he was evidently instigated by the Ameri- can Fur Company traders to do us all the mischief in his power. Certain it is, he was their regular " soldier," and received from them numerous presents in consideration of his good conduct. The employees of this comj)any are frequently guilty of such disgrace- ful conduct. In connection with this conclusion I might cite instance upon instance, and string out a volume of proof, were it necessary. Soon after Christmas we commenced erecting our chimney. The ma- terials for it were procured from an adjoining bank. While engaged in quarrying them, the operator came to a crevice filled vrith a strange fleshy substance, coiled together like the folds of a huge rope. " Hallo !" iricd he, with astonishment, "here's the Devil, himsell !" The extraordinary announcement brought all hands to the spot to get a peep at ■' Old Nick," and the Indians, also, witnessing the unusual commo- tion, came hurrying up to learn its cause. The result proved, that, if not the Devil, it was his great prototype, — it was that " Old Serpent," with all his progeny. By means of a stick, thirty-six large snakes were exposed to view,— some of them six feet in length. They were in a torpid state, the result of the severe cold of winter. Having drawn them out, one by one, it was proposed to treat them to a warm bath. Accordingly, after placing them in a hole ibr the purpose, a keetle of scalding water was thrown upon them. The vivifying eflects of this unwonted application restored them to a sudden animation, Vv'hen, wriggling and twisting for a few moments in all the contortions of agony, they at last tacitly curled up and expired. The Indians were much shocked on seeing this, and expressed their astonishment at our reckless presumption by tiieir deeply accented " tula," — turning away from the spot with evident emotions of terror. On inquiring the cause, I learned in answer, that the various Indian tribes in the vicinity of the mountains are accustomed to regard the snake with a kind of superstitious veneration, and consider the act of killing it a sure harbinger of calamity. In the observance of this singular notion, they are scrupulously exact; — but, in despite of repeated inquries, I have been unable to obtain the reasons upon which the wliim is based. These tribes cherish many religious tenets, rites, and customs, — some general and others peculiar only to individuals, * This is a mountain phrase of Spanish origin, (cavellardo,) and means a band of horses or mules. THEOLOGICAL NOTIONS. 115 An Indian will never pronounce the name of the Big Medicine, or Great Spirit, other than in a reverential manner, nor upon trival occasions. This being is considered the Great Superintendent of all things, whose power sustains the universe, — causing day and night with the varying seasons, — making the grass to grow, the water to run, and the rains to fall, for the good of man and beast. Some imagine He lives in the sun; others, in the air; others, in the ground ; and others in the immensity of His works. The animal or thing possessed of wonderful or extraordinary powers, such as their ignorance ascribes to be the attributes of the Supreme Being, they look upon as endowed with a greater or less share of His presence, and venerate it accordingly. Thus, the sun, fire, lightning, thunder, fountains of peculiar medicinal qualities, extraordinary localities, and various other things are alike objects of religious regard. Although their theological sentiments are generally the same, the man- ner of showing their respect for this Overruling Providence differs with different tribes, families, and even persons. For instance, — sorfie tribes shave their heads in token of their submission to Him. Others mark themselves for His own by some peculiar manner of cutting their ears for the reception of ornaments ; — while others burn their thighs, tattoo their breasts, scar their arms, or flatten the heads of infants, for a like purpose. Tho instrument, with which such ceremonies are performed, is invariably thrown away. In case of cutting the cars of an infant, the gift bestowed upon the operator is regarded as indicative of its success during life ; — parents have been known to give as high as ten horses on like occasions. Some make indehble marks of a blue color upon their chins and fore- heads,— or the figures of lizards, snakes, arrows, or other objects upon their arms. Some show their reverence in the peculiar manner of receiving the pipe and passing it to another ; — others by certain ceremonies before smoking, — thus, pointing the pipe-stem to the zenith, then tov.-ards the ground, then horizontally upon either side, as if saying, "Oh thou, whose habitation is immensity, accept this as the willing tribute of hoaiage from thy cliild." They will never allow a bone of any kind to be broken within their lodges, and express great consternation and alarm at sucli an occurrence. Some will not permit a stick of wood to be struck with a knife or other edged tool while burning, and others exhibit their devotion by some pe- culiarity in the structure of their lodges, or the mode of placing their medicine-bags, the length and shaj)e of their arrows, their fasiiion of hair- dressing, and various minutias of like ciiaracter. Others again will never eat unless they bestow the first mouthful as an offering to the prairie, — believing that, as tho prairie allbrds water, grass, and game, for the good of tlie red man, it is the fullest cmbodyment of the Essence of Good ; therefore, in the observance of this practice, they not only acknowledge their laith in the existence of the Great Spirit, but set apart the first of their substance as test of their piety. Their ideas of the existence of a principle, or being, wno is the author and prompter of evil, are crude and indefinite. They are ready to acknowledge its reality, but seem to consider its per- 116 DANGERS 07 THE LIQUOR TRADE. 8on more manifest in man liimself than any other creature or thing. Their enemies they esteem as the more special incarnation of this prin- ciple, and next to thom they regard a worthless, mean, and cowardly indi- vidual of their own people. They also look upon creatures of an injurious and hurtful nature, as the greater or less impersonation of evil. Their notions of right and wrong are equally simple. It is right to be brave, to do good to friends, to relieve the needy, to feed the hungry, and to worship the Great Spirit, — these are acts of general morality. There are various other duties taught by their code relative to intercourse with each other, — to children and parents, husbands and wives, deference to age, chastity etc., the performance of which is essential to virtue. The line of demarkation between virtue and vice is yet more simple and comprehensive ; — every thing derelict of right is wrong. I shall recur to several points, connected with the foregoing subjects, in another place. CHAPTER IX. Dangers connected with the liquor trade.— Difficulty viith Bull Eagle.— Scenes of bloodshed and horror.— Cheating in the fur trade.— How the red man becomes tutored in vice.— A chief's daughter offered in exchange for liquor. — Indian mode of courtship and marriage. — Squaws an article of traffic. — Divorce. — Plurality oj wives. The difficulty and danger, not to say crime and bloodshed, connected with the illicit trade in alcohol, as conducted among our western Indians, is great and imminent. To illustrate this point, I need only to place before the reader a summary of facts which occurred, many of them under my own observation, during the winter of 1842. Soon after our arrival at White river a man was sent to a neighboring villao-e with a keg of diluted alcohol, for the purpose of barter. The Indians, feeling more disposed to drink than pay for it, demanded the keg as a gift " on the prairie." This was refused. They threatened — a fight ensued, (the soldiers and trader defending the keg and the Indians trying to take it.) Weapons were used, and the result was, both soldiers and trader were beaten oflT, — the latter, after being dragged through the lodge- fire three or four times, narrowly escaped with his life. A party of Indians under the excitement of strong drink, attacked and took a trading house of the American Fur Company, near by, — robbing it of both liquor and goods. Two parties in the Fur Company's employ, from different posts, met at a neighboring village, — one having goods and the other alcoliol. The Indians, as usual, got drunk, and commenced a fight among themselves ; — because the goods-trader happened to be in the lodge of one of the weaker party, they attacked him. He was compelled to flee, and barely escaped with his life through the friendly interference of the squaws. His goods Bull Eagle deinking tile Fire-Water. — Page 119. SCENES OF BLOODSHED AND HORROR. 119 were all stolen ; — while one of the Indians who defended him was brutally murdered, and several others wounded. Not long afterwards, our trader was shot at, three or four times, while engaged in this dangerous traffic, and one of his soldiers severely wounded. About the same time, the trader of another company received a deep stab, while dealino- out the vile trash, and would have been killed but for the energetic efforts of his soldiers. Previously to the above, the Indians seized upon a trader and compelled him to stand over a hot fire until he was nearly roasted ahve, — meanwhile, helping themselves to his stock in hand. Soon after, two warriors came to trade for a blanket at our post, — one of whom was drunk. While being waited upon, the latter drew his knife and was in the very act of stabbing the unsuspecting clerk, as I caught his wrist and arrested the blow. At another time, as our trader was standing surrounded by us all, he was shot at by a drunken Indian, who, by the merest accident, missed his object. Again, one night a party of drunken Indians undertook to fire the house in order to consume us alive, but were providentially prevented, owing to its being constructed of green pine logs. The most dangerous time I experienced during the winter was near the close of it. An Indian employed as our soldier, became crazed upon the drugged liquor of the American Fur Company, and made his appearance before us in a high state of excitement. This fellow had been denominated by his people tlte Bull Eagle, (Tahtunga-mobi-llu,) and was a chief, — highly esteemed as a medicine-man, and regarded as the greatest brave in the Sioux nation. He v/as a tall, well-made, noble-looking person — and, — such eyes ! I never saw the like planted beneath the brows of any other mortal. They glared like lightning, and, as they fell upon the individual to whom directed, seemed to penetrate the very soul and read the embryo thoughts of his heart. Througli the misrepresentations of those in the interest of the Fur Com- pany, he tancied himself misused by our trader, and came determined on re- venge. Arms in hand and stripped for the contest, accompanied by his wifo and two or three friends, he confronted us, — his strange appearance told for what. In the fury of passion his e\'ery look gave evidence of the raging demon within. Here, lest he should be misunderstood, he premised by a full statement of his grievances. Tliey were many, but the chief of them was, that our trader had em{)loyed another to "act soldier" in his stead, while he was too drunk to perform the duties of that appointment. " I have been dressed"* as a soldier," said he, " to be laughed at, and now Peazeezeef must die I" The room Vviis full of Indians, ;ind one of them, an old man, exclaimed : " When Peazeezee dies, let me go under,]; — I must live no longer I" * Previously, he had been presented with a citizen's dress to secure him fo'* lli« company's interest. t Yellow-hair. The Indian name for our trader. { This term implies death, or the act of dying. 120 EFFECTS OF DRUNKENNESS. " Is this your love for the pale-face ?" returned the infuriated chieftain. « Then die you first !" Uj)on this, seizing the defenceless old man, ho drew his knife and made a heart-thrust. Tlie intended victim, however, grasped the descending blade in his bare hand and arrested its course — but his fingers were nearly severed in so doing. Here the wife of Bull Eagle rushed up to her husband and seized him by both arms, while others interfered, and the scene of conflict was removed from the apartment to the space in front. Now was a general fight. The women and children, crying for terror, ran about in the utmost confusion and dismay, — while raving combatants yelled and whooped, as knives, clubs, and tomahawks were busily deaUng wounds and scattering blood. Soon after, the parties retired to their village, and the melee ended with only six wounded. In a brief interval the Bull Eagle again returned, accompanied by his wife, — the latter earnestly endeavoring to dissuade him from his purpose. A shot was his first salute, on entering the door, which a timely thrust from the squaw averted from its object. The kind-hearted creature then grasped the bow. Relinquishing it in her hands, the madman made a pass at the trader with his tomahawk, — this blow was dodged, and the heroine, rushing between the two, prevented its repetition. Dropping his tomahawk, he then fell upon the object of his hatred, butcher-knife in hand. But here he found himself in the firm grasp of several friendly Indians, by whom he was borne from the room. This state of affairs was the signal for another engagement between Bull Eagle, at the head of his partizans, aud the friends of the whites, — more desperate and bloody than the former. With great difficulty we re- tained our arms from the forcible grasp of the contending factions. This, to us, was a moment fraught witli extreme peril — not knowing friend from foe, and instantly apprehensive of the knives and arrows of the avengeful throng. It was, indeed, a moment when the agony of suspense quivered with thrilling intensity upon every nerve, and vibrated in every sinew. To fight, would have been a relief. But, whom should we fight? It might have been our best friends — for who could discriminate ? The death of one connected with either party, at our hands, would have proved the signal for our instant slaughter. Both would have united to exterminate us, — and, beset as we were, upon all sides, prudence dictated a strict nutrahty. Sometimes fifteen or twenty would be struggling for our arms at once, — a strong temptation, as the reader may rest assured, for us to use them in self-defence. Meanwhile the conflict continued with unabated fury. Several attempts were made upon the life of Bull Eagle, but without success. Two were killed and others wounded, when a final stop was put to the further elfusion of Wood by the withdrawal of the chieftan to his lodge. In about an hour subsequent, he returned for the second time, — but reason had now resumed her sway, and he came to apologize for his bad conduct. Calling our trader his " very good, his best friend," he cried for grief that he had attempted to kill him. He averred that liquor had made him a/ooZ, and said he should never cease to regret the great wicked- ness he had thought of doing to his " best friend." Ever after this affair, CHEATING. 121 he remained our steadfast friend, and presented our trader with six super- fine robes, in evidence of the sincerity of his repentance. The foregoing results of this infamous traffic, are only a few of the many instances of like nature I might cite, in proof of its imminent danger to those engaged in its prosecution ; — but this is not the darkest part of the picture. There are yet scenes in reserve, more bloody and dreadful than those above recited, though not, perhaps, quite as perilous to the whites themselves. They all occurred in the winter of 1842, during the brief period of two months, and resulted immediately from the sale of liquor. I shall not enter into details, but content myself by laying before the reader a mere synopsis of facts. In November, the American Fur Company, from Fort John, sent a quantity of their drugged liquor to an Indian village, on Chugwater, as a gift, for the purpose of preventing the sale of that article by their competi- tors in trade. The consequence was, the poor creatures all got drunk, and a fight ensued, which ended in the death of two head chiefs, Bull Bear and Yellow Lodge, and six of their friends, — besides the wounding of fourteen others, who took part in the affray. Soon after, an affiiir occurred from the same cause, resulting in the death of three. About the same time, another of like nature took place in the Chyenne village, and three more were killed. Several were also killed, in the interval, in the vicinity of the Chyonne and Missouri rivers, by their friends and companions, while under the madden- ing infiuence of intoxicating drink, — the precise number is not knowii. The very last trade at the close of the season, produced its usual deeds of bloodshed and murder. Two Indians were killed, and the person who sold to them the vile article narrowly escaped with his life. I might go on still further with the sickening sketch ; but, as enough has already been said to shock the sensibilities of the reader, in endeavoring to afford him some idea of the enormities and untold horrors connected with this criminal traffic, I must forbear. The liquor used in this business, is generally third or fourth proof whiskey, which, after being diluted by a mixture of three parts water, is sold to the Indians at the exorbitant rate of three cups per robe, — the cups usually holding about three gills each. But, notwithstanding the above unconscionable price, a lai'ge share of the profits result from the ingenious roguery of those conducting the trade. Sometimes the measuring-cup is not more than half full ; — then, again the act of measuring is little other than mere feint, (the purchaser receiv ing not one fourth the quantity paid for.) When he becomes so intoxicated as to be unable to distinguish the differ- ence between water and liquor, (a thing not rare,) the former is passed off upon him as the genuine article. Another mode of cheating is, by holding the cup in such a manner that the two front fingers occupy a place upon the inside, and thus save to the trader nearly a gill at each filling. Some have two cups, (one of the usual size, and the other less.) which 122 A CHIEF'S DAUGHTER. are so exchang-ed as to induce the purchaser to believe he is obtaining a third more than he actually receives ; and others, yet more cunning, fill the measure half full of tallow and deal out the liquor from off it, — the witless dupe, not thinking to examine the bottom, supposes he receives the requi- site quantity. No wonder the Indian, with such examples before him, learns to hate the white man, and despise and abhor his boasted civilization. No wonder he looks with an eye of suspicion, alike upon his religion and his learning, and revolts at the thoucrht of either, as the ingenious devices of scientific roguery. He is taught all the white man's vices before he learns any of his virtues. The emissaries of Satan, by their untiring efTorts, effectually stop his ears, blind his eyes, and harden his heart, ere yet the heralds of the Gospel set foot upon his soil, to tell him of the blessings of Christianity, and the way to happiness and to heaven. If the Indian is bad, it is because the white man has made him so. Un- contaminated by intercourse with the offscourings of civilization, who come to cheat and despoil him of his property, and deprive him of his comforts, you find him quite a different being. You find him brave, generous, and hospitable, as well as possessed of many exemplary moral qualities. If he is a savage, he might, in many respects, prove a safe and worthy teacher to those who pride themselves upon a more enlightened education. He has a heart instinctive of more genuine good feeling than his w^hite neighbor — a soul of more firm integrity — a spirit of more unyielding inde- pendence. Place the white man in his condition, divested of all the re- straints of law, and unacquainted with the learning and arts of civilized life — surrounded by all the associations of the savage state — and the In- dian, by comparison, will then exhibit, in a more striking light, that innate superiority he in reality possesses. No : The Indian should not be despised. He holds weighty claims upon our pity, our compassion, and our respect, — but never should he be despised. Old Bull Tail, of whom I had occasion to speak in a former chapter havinof forgotten the wholesome sentiments he advanced at the time refer- red to, took it into his head to have a spree. But, as he was not possessed of the means to obtain the wherewith, he adopted a somewhat novel sub- stitute. He had an only daughter, — and she was handsome — the pride of her family and the boast of her village. She was lovely, and all the high qual- ities of a princess were exhibited in her deportment. But, Bull Tail must drink ; why not give his daughter to the Yellow-hair and receive from him a keg of liquor as a marriage present? This thought was acted out, and one morning the old chief came to us, followed by his daughter, who, aware of her father's designs, gave vent to her grief in a flood of tears. As he entered the door, our trader addressed him : Trader. Bull Tail is welcome to the lodge of the Long-knife ; — ^but, why is his daughter, the pride of his heart, bathed in tears ? It pains me tliat one so beautiful should weep. INDIAN MODE OF COURTSHIP. 123 Bull Tail. Chintzille is a foolish girl. Her father loves her, and thore- fore she cries. Trader. The contrary should prove a greater cause for grief! Bull Tail. Tlie Yellow-hair speaks well, and truth only falls from his lips. Trader. How, then, can she sorrow ? Bid her speak and tell me, that I may whisper in her ear words of comfort. Bull Tail. Nay, pale-face ; but I will tell thee. Bull Tail loves his daughter much — very much ; he loves the Yellow-hair much ! — he loves them both, very much. The Great Spirit has put the thought into his mind tliat both might be alike his children ; then would liis heart leap for joy at the twice-spoken name of father ! Trader. What do I hear ? I know not the meaning of thy words. Bull Tail. Sure, pale-face, thou art slow to understand ! Bull Tail would give his daughter to the Yellow-hair, — for who like him is so worthy to take her to his lodge ? Bull Tail has for a long time called the pale- face his brother, and now he would claim the Yellow-hair as his son. Loves he not Chintzille ? Trader. Were I to deny my joy at the words of Bull Tail, my tongue would lie ! The Yellow-hair has no wife, and who, like the lovely Chintz- ille, is so worthy that he should take her to his bosom ? How could he ever show his gratitude to her noble father ! Bull Tail. The gift is free, and Bull Tail will be honored in its accept- ance,— his friends will all be glad with him. But, that they may bless the Yellow-hair, let him till up the hollow- wood * with tire-water, and Bull Tail will take it to his lodge ; — then the maiden shall be thine. ■ Trader. But, Chintzille grieves, — she loves not the Yellow-hair! Bull Tail. Chintzille is foolish. Let the Yelluw-hair measure tlie fire-water and she shall be thine ! Trader. Nay, but the Yellow-hair may not do this. Chintzille should never be the wife of him she loves not! The old man continued to plead for some time, in order to bring to a suc- cessful issue the negotiation by which he hoped to "wet his whistle" and gain a son-in-law, — but all to no purpose. Our trader could not be persua- ded to form an alliance so entangling upon any such terms, and the chief- tain left with all the lineaments of disappointment and chagrin depicted upon his countenance. The mode of marriage prevalent among the mountain and prairie tribes would seem rather strange and somewhat unfair to the better informed of civilized communities. The lady has little to say or do in the business. When an Indian takes it into his head to get married and meets with the squaw suiting his fancy, he wastes no time in useless courtship, but hastens to her father and de- mands of him to know how much he loves his dautrhter and what srift of horses will make his heart rejoice in a son-in-law ? The father, after consulting with his daughter and her mother, states tJie *Keg. 124 POLYGAlVrY. terms. If these prove agreeable to the suitor, he immediately accepts Uiem, and the twain " become one flesh " without further ceremony. In case the woman has no father, her eldest brother fills his place, — and if she have neither father nor brother, her next nearest relative assumes the responsibility of bestowing her in marriage. If she be the eldest daughter, and has unmarried sisters, the bridegroom becomes equally entitled to them, and is looked upon as their common hus- band. The first year succeeding this new relation, the bride's family consider all the horses and other valuables of the new-made husband as their own; the second year he is permitted to retain his personal property for the use of himself and wife ; — but the third year he enjoys an equal right with his relatives to everything in their possession. The decision of parents in the bestowment of a daughter in marriage is generally controlled by the largeness of the amount offered ; thus showing that civilized lile is not the only condition in which individuals are some- times governed by sordid motives in pronouncing upon questions of such vital importance to the welfare of others. The female is the only party upon whom the marriage contract is con- sidered binding. The man may sunder it at any time suiting his convenience or caprice. He has the power, even, to dispose of his wife to another, or, at a mere word, to absolve himself from all obligation to her. In case of the latter, the discarded one returns to her father's lodge, — ready again to test the re- alities of this uncertain relationship, whenever an opportunity presents it- self meeting with tiie approval of those who assume to make barter of her aflections and person. A woman, to be happy in this state of society, should never indulge in that fancied passion, pictured in such glowing colors by crack-brained poets and novel-writers, called love ; — or, if she has the assurance to do otherwise, it should be of that more versatile and acconnnodating order, so often exhibited in more refined circles, which may be reclaimed and trans- ferred as interest or circumstances suggest. Her atTections are not at her own disposal, and, to render life tolerable, she must learn to love only as she is loved, and to love herself above ali others. Next to horses, women constitute an Indian's chief wealth. This cir- cumstance not urifrequently results in one individual appropriating to himself six or eight. Tlie squaw is compelled to dress robes and skins, make moccasins, cure and take care of meat, attend to the horses, procure fire-wood, and perform sundry other little drudgeries that an Indian will not do. Through her he becomes possessed of the means of procuring from the whites such articles as his necessities or fancy may require. A plurality of wives with him, therefore, is more a matter of economy than other- wise. 125 CHAPTER X. Tahtunga-goniska.— High gaming. — Weur-sena WarkpoUo, a strange story,— The Death Song, a tale of love. — Medicine-men. — Extraordinary performancs of Tahtunga-mobellu. — Wonderful feats of jugglery. Among our daily visitors was Tahtimga-egoniska, a head chief of the Brule village. Years had bleached his locks with their taming frosts and taught him self-government. Well disposed as a man, he never became a participant in those disgusting scenes ot intoxication that almost continually transpir- ed around us. He was a mere looker on — a moralizer; and, as he witness- ed the blameworthy conduct of his people, an ill-suppressed sigh was fre- quently audible, and the inward workings of regret were plainly defined upon his countenance. Melancholy too had left her traces upon him, and, as he sat day by day in gloomy silence, he seemed the very impersonation of grief. Whenever the throng disj^ersed for a few moments, he would improve the opportunity for conversation with us ; for in the benevolence of his heart he loved the whites, and was greatly pained at the injuries and injustice it was so often their lot to endure. But he had a story of his own to tell ; it was a tale of affliction — a stab' at the best feelings of a father's heart ! And, by whom ? By the very whites he loved ! Aye, by the very men whose business it was to degrade his people and ruin them by the contaminating eflJects of an unliallowed intercourse ! {Six months had scarcely yet passed since the old chief had been called to mourn his youthful hope, and the pride and joy of his declining years — his first-born son ! And that son had fallen by the hand of the white man ! Still, the sorrow-stricken father harbored no thought of revenge ; he sought nothing for himself save the locks of that son, that he might hang them within his lodge, and gaze upon them and weep ! His simple tale was so touching in its nature it served to enlist the deep sympathies of our hearts. We began to regard him with much deference, and felt quite at home in his company. He would frequently entertain us with his anecdotes as occasions suggested, and at such times he invaria- bly proved both agreeable and communicative. The history of his own life, too, was far from uninteresting. He was tlie only one of the Brule chiefs, then living, who had signed the first treaty with the whites, since which he had ever observed its stipulations with scrupulous exactness, and still carefully retained a silver medal be- stowed upon him by the Government agent at that time. Some of his stories were garbed with a strange romance, and though they may appear foreign to truth in many respects, I cannot resist th<» temptation of presenting a few of them to the reader. n* 126 HIGH GAMING. One day, several Indians had betted largely upon a "game of hand;"* this called forth from the old man the following story: " When a young man I delighted in war, and seldom did a party of our people visit the enemy that included me not with its number. These scars tell where I stood when arrows flew thick — hastening to spill the blood of the brave. " Rarely did we return empty-handed from the foeman's land — without horses to ride or scalps to dance. Yet, at times we came back like fools, and were ashamed to appear at the soldiers' feasts. " One of these times I well recollect, and I will tell of it to my white children, that they also may remember it. " We were proceeding against the Crows, and, like experienced warri- ors, had sent our spy in advance to look for the enemy. Hurrying on, in momentary expectation of a conflict, the stout hearts of our braves were appalled by his return without robe or arms, and scalpless— and with a face suffused in blood. " This was his story : The enemy, aware of our approach, were awaiting us in great numbers. Encountering their scouts, he had been robbed and scalped, and left f jr dead. In this situation he lay till darkness shut down upon the mountain and the night-breeze gave him strength to meet us and advise our speedy return. " Believing the strange tale, we hastened to revisit our lodges, and be laughed at. " Three moons sped, and we again penetrated the land of the foemen. The scalpless warrior, far in advance of the main party, once more dis- charged the duties of a spy. " This time a whoop of triumph announced the result of his mission, a,8 he made his appearance wath the scalps of two, waving from his spear. " He tarried not to relate his adventure, but urged us instantly onward. Following him, we were led to the enemy ; — we fought and were victo- ■ rious. " Among the slain was one whose scalp was wanting. Who has done this ? asked the wondering braves. But none answered. Our spy, smi- ling, at length broke silence : "'Behind yon hill,' said he, ' a fountain chants melody fit for warriors' ears, — let's to it, that we may drink.' " Following his direction, he led to a silvery spring overhung by crags and shaded by cottonwoods. " ' Drink, warriors,' he exclaimed ; when, withdrawing abruptly, he soon returned, and with the arms and robe which were his own in other days. J " Warriors,' resumed the spy : ' you wondered at my mishap, and lamented my hard lot when last we visited the Crowman's country ; — you wondered at the condition of one among the recent slain, and asked for a reason; — and, doubtless, you wonder still more that I now stand before * This is a common game with the mountain Indians. It is commenced by one of the players who encloses a gravel-slone or a huUel in the curve of his two hands by pla- cing the palms together, then, after sundry tosls and evolutions, suddenly parting them. If" the opposing parly is shrewd enough to guess in which liand the stone in retained, he wins; if not not, he losses. Lartje amounts are often wagered u}kj!i tli« result of this play. A STRANGE STORY. 127 you bearing the store of which I was deprived ! — and fain you would know in what manner I obtained the hair of two. '"Three times has the night-queen turned her full face to smile upon the prowess of Lacota arms, since at this very spot I met an enemy. We rushed towards each other for the attack. 'Twas then he cried : " ' Are we not both braves ? why should we fight ? When our people meet in the fray, then may we join arms, — till then, a truce.' " ' To this I replied, " ' Says Crewman peace ? — then, be there peace.' " ' Thus said, we shook hands and sat down by the fountain. " ' Willing to amuse the foe, I gathered a pebble and proposed a game of hand. The challenge was accepted, and we played, — first, arrow against arrow, then bow against bow, robe against robe, and scalp against scalp. " 'I was unsuccessful and lost all, — arrow, bow, robe, and scalp. I gave up all, but with the extorted promise that we should here meet again for another trial of skill. " ' True to the word, we did meet again. We played, and this time, the Good Spirit showed me kindness. " ' Winning back arrows, bow and robe, I staked them all against the lost scalp. The game was a close one ; but again the Good Spirit favored me, and I won. Crewman,' said I, ' scalp against scalp.' The banter was accepted, and the play continued. Ho lost, and I, with my winnings, arose to leave. " ' Warrior,' exclaimed the luckless player, ' meet me in the fight, that we may try the game of arms,' " ' Thy words please me,' I answered. ' Will the Crewman name the place ?' " ' A valley lies beyond this hill, — there my people await their enemies, and there let me hope to see you with them.' '^ ' To that place I led you. We fought and conquered. My opponent at play was among the slain. Need I tell you who took his scalp ?' " The old man seemed to take pleasure in acquainting us with the man- ners and customs of his people, and was ever ready to assign a reason for any of them, whenever such existed. He repeated to us the names of all the streams, mountains, and prominent localities of the country, and explained the causes of their several christenings. Some thirty miles to the westward of us, flowed a large creek, called by the Indians, " Weur-sena Warkpollo," or Old Woman's creek. This stream is an affluent of the Chyenne river, and takes its rise at the base of a mountain bearing the same name. The mountain is an object of great veneration with the Sioux, who rarely enter into its neighborhood without bestowing upon it a present of meat. The old man entertained us with the following explanation of a custom so singular : " My grandfather told me a tale he had received from the old men before *iim, and it is a strange one. " Many ages past bring us back to the time when the Lacotas lived in a country far above the sun of winter.* ♦The north. 128 A STRAiNGE STORY. "Here, then, the Shoshone reared his white lodge, and scoured the prairies in pursuit of game ; while, as yet, the whole country abounded with lakes and ponds of water, and only the highlands and mountains were left for the buffalo and deer. " But years passed on, — the mountains and highlands continued to prey upon the waters, and the creeks and rivers gradually reduced the limits of then* possessions. '• Years again lied. The Shoshones, attracted by some better region, far away, or driven from their homes by the hostile encroachments of other tribes, gave place to the Scarred-arms.* " In the course of generations, the Lacotas and the ScaiTed-arms war- red with each other ; they fought with varied success for many years. '• Once a party of the Lacotas penenetrated into the heart of the enemy's country ; on their return, they fell into an ambuscade, and only six of them were L^ft to tell the fate of their companions. '• Hotly pursued by the Scarred-arms, they sought refuge in a njountain. There an obscure passage led to a recess in the mountain's side, which they entered, and were pleased to find within it a gravelly floor, and a pure fountain of sweet water. " Tempted by the conveniences and security of the place, they thought to remain for a few days that they might recover their strength. A small fire was built accordingly, and the six braves seated themselves around it, recounting to each other their perils and dangerous exploits, and planning some mode of extrication i'roin their present difficulties. '• Thus busied, a rustling Ticise from a dark corner of the apartment startled them, — but still more were they aroused by the half-disclosed form of a person moving in the distance. Words gave place to silence, as the warriors, seizing their arms, awaited the feared assault. But the figure, on advancing nearer, proved that of a feeble old woman, who addressed the wondering group in their own language. " ' Children,' said she, ' you have been against the Scarred-arms, — you have fought them, — and of a strong party, you alone survive. I know it all. *' ' You seek in my lodge a refuge from your pursuers, — and the sound of your voices with the heat of your council-fire has disturbed my rest and awoke me from a long, long trance. '• ' Your looks enquire my story. " ' iMany ages have gone, (for days, moons, seasons, and ages are painted before me as they pass,) since the Shoshones, who lived where now live the Scarred-arms, visited the lodges of the Lacotas, and bade the prairie drink the blood of slaughtered braves. I was their captive, and with the scalps of the slain I was taken from the graves of my people, many days travel. " ' The Shoshone brought me to this country, when yet the buffalo grazed upon the hills and mountains, only ; for the valleys and plains were the home of waters. *" Living with tlie Shoshone, I was not happy. I thought of my peo- * Chyennes. The name owes its origin to the practice of scarring the left arm •POBSwise yet adhered to by the males of that nation. A STRANGE STORY. 129 pie, with all tliose dear to me, and prayed the Good Spirit that I might again behold them ere my passage to the death-land. " ' I fled, hoping to reach the home of my birth ; — but age had enfeebled me, and being pursued, I sought refuge in this cave. Here, having passed a night and a day in earnest communion with the Big Medicine, — a strange feeling came upon me. I slumbered, in a dreamy state of consciousness, from then till now. " ' But your looks again ask, who are the Shoshones ? — what became of them ? And from whence were the Scarred-arms ?' " ' The Lacotas will soon know the Shoshones, and bring from their lodges many scalps and medicine-dogs. Divided into two tribes, that nation long since sought home in other lands. One crossed the snow- hills towards the sun-setting ; — the Lacotas shall visit them, and avenge the blood and wrongs of ages. The other journeyed far away towards the sun of winter, and now live to the leftward of the places where the His- panola builds his earth-lodge.* '"Then came the Scarred-arms from a far ofl^ country, aland of much si|ow and cold. Pleased with the thickly tenanted hunting grounds that here met them, they stopped for the chase, and, by a possession through successive generations, have learned to consider these grounds as their own. But they are not theirs. " ' The Great Spirit gives them to the Lacotas, aiid they shall inhabit the land of their daughter's captivity. " ' Why wait ye here ? Go and, avenge the blood of your comrades upon the Scarred-arms. They even now light their camp-fire by the stream at the mountain's base. Fear not, — their scalps are yours ! Then return ye to my people, that ye may come and receive your inheri- tance. " ' Haste ye, that I may die. And, oh Warkantunga ! inasmuch as thou hast answered the prayer of thine handmaid, and shown to me the faces of my people, take me from hence.' " The awe-struck warriors withdrew. They found the enemy encamped at the foot of the mountain. They attacked him and were victorious ; — thirty-five scalps were the trophies of their success. " On reaching their homes the strange adventure excited the astonish- ment of the whole nation. The Scarred-arms were attacked by our war- riors, thus nerved with the hope of triumph, and were eventually driven from the country now possessed by the Locotas as their own. " The grateful braves soon sought out the mountain, to do reverence to the medicine-woman who had told them so many good things. A niche in the mountain-side, from whence issued a sparkling streamlet, told their place of refuge ; but the cave and the woman alike had disappeared. *' Each successive season do our warriors visit the Shoshones for scalps and medicine-dogs, — and each of our braves, as he passes the Old Woman's * It is a singular fact, that the Cumanches and Snakes, (Shoshones,) though Uving nearly a thousand miles distant from each other, witli hostile tribes intervening, ■peak precisely the same language, and call themselves by the same general name. They have lost all tradition, however, of liaving formed one nation, in any previous age. 130 THE DEATH SONG. mountain, fails not to bestow upon it his tribute of veneration, or quench his thirst from the creek that bears her name." A place on White river — where the stream pours its full force against the base of a lofty peak, and the powerful attrition of its waters has formed a rocky precipice of several hundred feet in height — is known as " The Death Song." The singularity of this name led me to enquire the reasons which prompted its bestowment. Ever ready to answer questions of this nature, the old chief related the following story : " Once, on a time, tiie Oglallas and Burnt-thighs held their encampmen upon the river, opposite to the high point of which my son enquires. While there, a dog-soldier* of the Burnt-thighs received the offer of six horses from an Oglalla brave, for his only daughter — a sweet flower — such an one as oft pierces the warrior's heart with her charms, when the arrows of ene- mies fall harmless at his feet. The offer was quickly accepted — for the dog-soldier was poor. '• When Chisciiille (for that was the name of the fair one) heard she was to become the wife of the Oglalla, she cried for grief, — and so obstinate was her resistance, the marriage was deferred for several days on that account. "But, why did Chischille grieve? She had looked upon a handsome warrior of her own village, and she loved him. She forgot her duty, as a daughter, to love only at her father's bidding. Her heart had been playing truant and had lost itself in the labyrinths of girlish fancy. Bitter were the fruits of that presumption. " Chischille, in the interval, contrived to meet the one of her choice, and the two fled towards a distant village, there to live in the undisturbed en- joyment of their youthful loves. " But, alas, for them ! They were pursued, and overtaken. The life of the young warrior atoned for his temerity, — while Chischille was cruelly beaten and brought back to her father's lodge. " The Oglalla had already paid the purchase price, and, ere the morrow's sunset, was to receive his fair prize at the hand of the dog-soldier. " Ciiischille, arising with the dawn, fresh-plaited her hair, and arraying herself in her proudest attire, left the lodge. No one thought strange at seeing her thus gaily dressed for her wedding day, and, as she tripped along, many a warrior's heart beat high and loud at the thought that a creature so lovely was to become the bride of another. " Directing her course to the river, she crossed it and ascended the high peak upon tlie o])posite side. There, seating herself upon the utmost verge of the precipice, she gazed calmly from its dizzy height. ' " In her lofty station, with her raven locks streaming in the winds, and the matchless beauty of lier person so enchantingly exposed to view, she seemed more like a being of the Spirit-Land than aught human. The sweetest prairie-flower was ne'er half so lovely. " Her strange attitude arrested the eyes of all. " 'Why sits she there ? — slie will fall and be dashed to pieces !' was the general cry. ' But listen — she sings !' * This is the title of those selected to superintend the civil affairs of a village. ASTONISHING FEATS OF JUGGLERY. 131 "' Why should I stay, — he is gone. Light of my eyes, — ^joy of my soul, — show me thy dwelHng ! — 'Tis not here, — 'tis far away in the Spirit Land. Thither he is gone. Why should I stay ? Let me go !' " ' Hear you that ?' said one. ' She sings her death song. She will throw herself from the cliff!' "At this, a dozen warriors, headed by him who claimed her hand, started to rescue the sweet singer from intended self-destruction. " Again she chants : " ' Spirit of Death, set me free ! Dreary is earth. Joyless is time. Heart, thou art desolate ! Wed thee another ? Nay. Death is thy husband! Farewell, oh sun! Vain is your hght. Farewell, oh earth! Vain are your plains, your flowers, your grassy dales, your purling streams, and shady groves ! I loved you once, — but now no longer love ! Taste- less are your sweets, — cheerless your pleasures ! Thee I woo, kind Death I Wahuspa calls me hence. In life we were one. We'll bask together in the Spirit Land. Who shall sunder there ? Short is my pass to thee. Wahuspa, I come !' " Upon this she threw herself forward, as the warriors grasped at her ; but, leaving her robe in their hands, she plunged headlong and was dashed to pieces among the rocks below !* " E'er since, the young warrior sighs as he beholds this peak, and thinks of the maiden's death song." Conversing upon the subject of medicine-men, he was asked, why those individuals are so highly esteemed by his people ? To this he replied : " These men are regarded as the peculiar favorites » o ■» •' 135 CHAPTER XI. Food for horses. — Squaws and their performances. — Dogs and dog-meat. — Return to Fort. — Starvation.— Travel by guess.— Death from drinking.— Medicine-making.— A burial. — Little Lodge and the French trader. — A speech in council. — Journey to White river. — High winds and deep snow. — Intense sufferings and painful results. A LARGE grove of Cottonwood near us, day after day was graced by groups of village squaws, armed with axes, for the procurement of horse food. The bark of this tree is eaten freely by both horses and mules, and answers well as a substitute for corn or oats. Animals will thrive upon it in a remarkable manner, and even in the summer months they prefer it to grass. The bark of red elm is also used for the same purpose. The operations of the squaws at such times contributed greatly to our amusement. Climbing fearlessly to the topmost branch of the highest tree, they would there lop off the surrounding boughs, with as much appa- rent ease as though footed upon terra firma. And then, the enormous loads they would carry, lashed together with cords and slung to their backs, were enough to make a giant stagger. Dogs, harnessed to travees, had their part to perform, and ofttimes were they a source of vexation to their mistresses. A squaw, trudging along under a full donkey-load of cottonwood, and followed by a squad of half-naked children, presented a spectacle quite in- teresting ; but this was rendered rather comical, withal, when two or three draught-dogs with their heavy-laden travees reluctantly brought up the rear — every now and then lying down for weariness, or squatting to loll and gaze at their companions. Now, she coaxes and caresses to urge them forward — they still delay. Then she turns briskly towards them with a stick, — get out, dogs ! — " Yierh ! Warktashne ceicha," cries the squaw, accompanying her denun- ciation with blows, and away go the yelping troop as fast as legs can carry them. Dogs are the necessary appendage of every Indian lodge, and generally form an equal portion of the village population. They present almost all the different varieties of the canine species, from the wolf to the spaniel, and from the spaniel to the hairless dog of Africa. The wolf, however, is predominant, and, taken together, they more assimilate a gang of wolves than anything else. Indeed, the difterent varieties of prairie wolves hold familiar intercourse with the village dogs, and associate with them on friendly terms. The species used for draught, is a large, stout-built, wolfish-looking creature, of the Exquimaux breed. Trained to his dutie§ in early life, he is generally both submissive and tractable. The drudgery of a squaw, which is at all times onerous, without his ready aid would prove post endurance. 136 MEDICINE-MAKING. But these dogs are also useful in another respect. Their flesh fur- nishes an article highly esteemed for food, and which almost invariably graces the soldiers' feast and every other scene of conviviality. However much the squamishness of the reader may revolt at the suggestion, justice impels me to say, the flesh of a flit Indian dog, suitably cooked, is not infe- rior to fresh pork ; and, by placing side by side select parts of the two, it would be no easy task even for a good judge to tell the difference, by either looks or taste, unless he were previously informed. Towards the last of January, buflTalo having left the vicinity, the Indians, as a necessary consequence, were compelled to move. A great scarcity of provisions prevailed among them, and we ourselves were scarcely better oflT than tliey. Our stock in hand was nearly exhausted, and an abandonment of the post became absolutely necessary, — a thing, however, which could not be performad without a fresh supply of horses and cattle from Fort Platte. For this purpose, I volunteered my services, and, accompanied by two engages, was promptly under way. A few hours' ride brought us to the head of White river, where, con- suming at a meal our scanty eatables, from that onward we were left en- tirely destitute. This was the first occasion subjecting me to the pains of hunger for so long a time. The second day I experienced the greatest annoyance, and then i: was I felt some of the realities of starvation. The third day, how- ever, I awoke in the morning scarcely thinking of breakfast. In fact, my appetite seemed quite passive, and the only sensation I felt was a kind of weakness and lassitude, evincing the lack of proper nourish- ment. The morning was cloudy and threatening. Soon after leaving camp, snow began to fall, thick and fast. The day proved so dark, objects were indiscernible at the distance of a hundred yards in advance. Travelling, as we were, over a trackless prairie, with nothing to guide us but the wind and the position of the grass, it was by the merest accident we reached our destination a few minutes before nightfall. Our sudden appearance was the occasion of general surprise to the Fort hands, and, after a brief explanation, we began to make amends for previous abstinence. At first, a few mouthfuls sufficed, — but soon I again felt hungry and could be satisfied only with a double quantity, — in an equally short time my stomach demanded a still further supply, and, by the next day, hunger became so keen it seemed almost insatiable. An interval of three or four weeks was requisite before it assumed its wonted tone. During our stay here, an Indian family, occupying one of the Fort rooms, indulged themselves in a drunken spree. Having procured a quantity of the Ame-ican Fur Company's liquor, the eflfects of their lavish potations soon became manifest to all within hearing distance. • But the din of drunken revelry erelong assumed the wail of mourning and sorrow. Hearing the strange commotion, I entered the room to ascertain the A BURIAL, 137 cause. There lay, helpless upon the floor, and apparently at the point oi* death, a squaw of some eighteen years ; — she, in her eagerness, had swal- lowed nearly a pint of the vile stuff, undiluted, and now experienced its dreadful consequences. But most conspicuous in the throng was a large, obese, cross-eyed Indian, earnestly engaged in his medicine-performances for her recovery. A breech-cloth was his sole garb, as, with eyes half strained from their sockets and volving in a strange unearthly manner, he stood, first upon one foot and then upon the other, alternately — then, stamping the floor as if to crush it through, and meanwhile, grunting, screeching, and bellowing, and beating his breast or the wall with his clenched fists, — then, with inhaled breath, swelling like a puff-ball, he would bend over his patient and apply sugescents to her mouth, throat and breast. This done, sundry ejections of saliva prepared his mouth for the recep- tion of an ample draught of water, with which he bespatted her face and forehead. But yet, all these extraordinary eflbrts failed to produce their designed effect. The poor squaw grew weaker, and her breathing became fainter and more difficult. Some powerful restorative must be adopted, or she will soon be beyond the reach of medicine, — so thought the officiating doctor ; or, at least, his succeedino- antics indicated that such were the cogitations of his mind. StandinfT for a minute or two in the attitude of reflection, an idea stuck him. Ah, he has it now ! This cannot fail. Snatching a butcher-knife and hastening with it to the fire, he heats the point to redness upon the coals, — then balancing it between his teeth, at a toss he flings it vaulting above his head and backward upon the floor, — then, re-catching it, he goes through the performance a second and a third time. Thus premised, he addresses himself with threefold energy to the gro- tesque and uncouth manoeuvres before described. If he had stamped his feet, he now stamps them with a determination hitherto unknown ; — if he had thumped his breast and beat the walls, he now thumps and beats as if each blow were intended to prostrate the object against which it was directed, — if he had grunted, screeched, and bellowed, he now grunts, screeches, bellows, and yells, till the very room quakes wath the reverberations of demoniac noise ; — if he had gagged, puffed, and swelled, he now gags, puffs, and swells, as if he would explode from the potency of his extraor- dinary inflations. Then, with an air of confidence, he hies to his patient and commences a process of manipulation from her breast downwards, and reverse, — and then again he repeats his previous operations, with scrnpulous exactness and unsparing effort, in all their varie 1 minutiae. But, alas for the medicine-man ! — the squaw died, despite the orampo- tence of his skill ! Then was enacted another such a scene of piteous wailing, as Indians alone have in requisition, as vent for their grief. After the usual preliminaries, the corpse of the deceased was placed upon a scaffold beside that of Susu-ceicha, the old chief of whom I have spoken in a former chapter. Each member of the bereaved family depoa- 138 SPEECH OF LITTLE LODGE. ited a tuft of hair in the sack containing the meat and trinkets placed beneath her head. A smooth piece of cottonwood slab was then affixed to the scaffold, upon which were traced, in vermilion, certain quadrangular characters of unknown meaning, — answering well to the idea of an inscription of name and age. A difficulty occurred about this time between a trader of the American Fur Company and an Oglalla chief, known as Little Lodge. The latter had become crazed by liquor, and, being rather turbulent, was put out of the Fort. But, effecting a re-entrance, he again proved equally annoying. The trader then commenced quarrelling with him, and under- took to seize his arms. This the Indian resisted, when the trader discharg- ed a pistol at him, but missed his object. Here was a deadly affront, that blood alone could wipe away. With great difficulty, the Indian was finally disarmed and bound. He was thus secured till the next day, when he was liberated ; — still, however, he muttered threats of revenge. Two or three weeks subsequently. Little Lodge was present at a soldiers' feast, and the question of war with the Americans was a prominent sub- ject of consideration. Several speeches were made, both for and against it ; and, though the prevailing sentiment seemed to be of an adverse kind, it scarcely required a half dozen words to turn the scale upon either side. Little Lodge arose to address the council, and the friends of the whites, knowing the vengeful spirit that yet rankled in his bosom at the remem- brance of his recent injuries, began to fear for the continuance of peace. Contrary to the universal expectation, he contended for its maintenance. " But," said he, " Little Lodge has grievances of his own, and they call for redress. " There is one among the pale-faces whose blood must wash away the foul blot that rests upon the name of Little Lodge. I know him welL He is not a Long-knife. The Long-knives are all the friends of Little Lodge. Let the Lacota take them by the hand whenever he meets them upon the prairie. It is good that he do so. They are very many and ex- ceedingly rich. Their country is a large one, and far away towards the sunrising. They, too, are strong for war. They have big hearts and strong, and they are very good to the red man. They bring to him many good things ; why, then, should the Lacota hate the Long-knife ? " Do my brothers ask who it is of the pale-faces the Little Lodge would remove from the light of day ? Know, then, he is not of the Long-knives, — he is of the Warceichas, (Frenchmen.) The Warceichas are not Long- knives ! " And, do my brothers ask, who are the Warceichas ? " Aye, who are tliey^? Little Lodge cannot tell ; — who of all the Laco- tas can ? Who ever heard of the country of these men ? No one. They have no country, — they are no people. They are are as the wandering dogs* that infest our hunting grounds and prey upon the game formed by tlie Good Spirit for the red man's sustenance. They steal into the land of *Chunka-monet, or travelling dogs, is the name applied by these Indians to wolveai INTENSE SUFFERING. 139 the red man, and sneak around from place to place ; — for they have no home ; they have no country ; they are no people ! " One of these it was who bade the medicine-iron speak its death-word to Little Lodge, and sought to spill the blood of a Lacota brave, after that he had made him a fool by means of his thickened * fire-water ! " Should Little Lodge fall by the hand of the Warceicha ? He might fall by the hand of a Long-knife, and the nation would honor his memor}% — but never^ should the Warceicha bring him low ! " Then, is it not good that Little Lodge should be avenged upon this lost dog — this outcast of the world — that the whelps of a motherless breed may cease to insult and wrong the Lacotas ? Which of all my brothers will say nay ?" The address was received in silence, — no one presuming to oppose an answer to its sentiments. Whether the speaker executed his threats of vengeance against the offending trader, I am yet unadvised. Having remained two nights and a day at Fort Platte, we again started for White river, taking with us three yoke of oxen and several horses, one of which was laden with dried meat. The snow greatly retarded our progress from the first, and so obscured the trail we were compelled to travel mostly by guess. The sun, too, was shut out by a tenebrous atmosphere, and we could judge of our proper course only by observing the movements of the clouds,f with the general range of the hills and ravines, or inclination of the grass. The broad expanse of unbroken snow lying from Rawhide to L'eau-qui- court, brought a chill tremor with the thought of crossing it. Yet, go we must ! It was no time to falter when the fate of others, perhaps, depend- ed upon our prompt advance. But the effort was no child's play. If we had experienced a tedious time during a former journey, what could we expect now ? The whole interval of thirty miles was covered with snow, that grew deeper and deep- er as we proceeded. Every hollow and ravine was filled, and the route otherwise seriously impeded by huge drifts and embankments. We were frequently compelled to break foot-paths for our animals, and ever and anon pull them by main strength from the deep pitfalls into which they would plunge and become almost lost to view. In this manner our progress was slow, — the average depth through which we waded being but little less than two feet. The rising of a fierce head wind, piercing as the blasts of Nova Zen*- bla, drove the snow into our faces with mad fury and added immeasurably, to our sufferings. * Allusion is here made to the dragged liquor supjxmed to have been palmed upon him by the trader. t The idea of directing our course by the movements of the clouds Ls doubtless a novel suggestion to most readers ; but its philosophy will be readily comprehended by a bare mention of the fact, that the winds of these regions almost invariably blow from a west-southwest point; and, as they are usually high, it is no ver)' extraordi- nary performance to calculate the bearing of north or south, even in the most obscune weather. 140 A HORRIBLE CONDITION. In this manner night shut down upon us, while yet far distant from any camping-place. And, such a night ! Oh, storms and deadly v\ inter, foul and fierce ! how swept ye " through the darkened sky," and with your awful howlings rendered "the savage wilderness more wild !" The creeping cold on every nerve played freely, in haste to sting our vitals, and lay us each " along the snows a stiffen'd corse, Stretch'd out and bleacliing in the northern blast !" The impress of this event can never be effaced from my mind. It was midnight ere we arrived at the timberless L'eau-qui-court and struck camp. Our animals needed water, but we had neither axe or tomahawk to cut through the thick ice with which the creek was coated. As a remedy for this lack, all three of us advanced upon it, and, by our united efforts at jumping, caused a lengthy fissure with gentle escarpments to- wards each shore, that left midway an ample pool. Having driven the cattle to this, in their clumsy movements upon the ice, two of tliem fell, and, sliding down the inclined plain, lay strugghng in the freezing water, unable to rise. Our only resort was to drag them to the shore by main strengtii ; for, left in their then condition, they must have frozen to death in a very short time. Here commenced a series of pulling and wrenching, that, in our chilled and exhausted state, we were ill-prepared to endure. For awhile our efforts proved vain. A backward-slide succeeded each headway-pull, and vexed us with useless toil. Thus we worried for nearly three hours in water knee-deep ! At length, having procured a rope and fastened one end to their horns and the other around a pointed rock upon the shore, and gathering the slack at each successive thrust, we finally succeeded in placing them both, one after the other, upon dry land. But, now we were in a thrice sorry plight. Not a stick of wood could be raised, far or near, of which to build a fire, and hois de tache, the great substitute of the prairies, was too deeply covered with snow for procure- ment. Our clothes, wet to the waist, were frozen upon us, and the merci- less wind, witii stinging keenness, pierced us through at every breath, and stood us forth as living monuments of ice ! Could men of iron endure such incomprehensible hardships, — such in- expressible sufferings ? Yet we survived them all ! Spreading a few robes upon the snow, we lay down for sleep, dinnerless and supperlcss. I was now seized with a chill, which lasted for two hours or more ; and so violent were its actions I could scarcely keep the covering upon me. My companions, however, though not similarly afflicted, were worse off than myself One had his hands and ears frozen, and the other his hands and feet, — the painful consequences of which, as the frost began to yield to the influence of generated warmth, were too apparent in their groans and writhings. Morning at length came, and tlie sun arose bright and clear The > > > > > 1 > > 9 «■<■ f O O (' o C C f C C > 'r HORSE ATTACKED BY WOLVES.— Pa^-e 143. HORSES DEVOURED BY WOLVES. 143 winds had ceased their ragings, and a clement atmosphere seemed pouring upon us the balm of sympathy for miseries so recently endured. But their direful effects were not thus easily eradicated. The feet of one poor fellow were so badly frozen, it was three months before he entirely recovered ; while another lost a portion of one of his ears. As for myself," a severe cold settled in my teeth, producing an intensely painful ache and swooUen face, that continued for eight or ten days. It seems almost miraculous that we should have escaped so easily, and often, even after so long an interval, I shudder at the recollection of this anguishing scene. Two days subsequently we reached our destination, and found all things pretty much in statu quo. CHAPTER XII. Another drunken spree. — Horses devoured by wolves. — An upset.— A blowing iip.-~ Daringr feat of wolves. — A girl offered for Uquor.— Winter on the Platte. — Boat building. — Hunting expedition.— Journey up the Platte.— Island camp.— Narrow escape. — Snow storm — Warm Spring. — Pass of the Platte into the prairies.— A valley. — Bitter Cottonwood. — Indian forts. — Wild fruit. — Root-digging. — Cherry tea and its uses. — Geology of the country. — Soils, grasses, herbs, plants, and piu-ity of atmosphere. — Horse-shoe creek. — A panther. — Prairie dogs and their pecuUar- ities. Our intended evacuation of the post was posponed till the week follow- ing, and, meanwhile, the few customers, that still hung on, were careful to improve the passing opportunity of steeping their senses in liquor. Another general drunken frolic was the consequence, ending as usual in a fight and still further attempts upon the life of our trader. Soon after this, our catalogue of disasters was increased by the death of two horses, which fell a prey to wolves. The case was an aggravated one, and provoking in the extreme. Both of them were "buffalo horses," and the fleetest and most valuable in our possession, — in fact, they were the only ones of which we ventured to boast. We had others of little worth, so poor and feeble they could oppose none resistance to magpies,* and much less to the rapacity of wolves. But, no. These blood-thirsty depredators, desirous of a feast of fat things, were determined to have it, reckless of cost, — and, the encrimsoned tracks, coursing the snowy plain in every direction where passed the swift * The magpie of the mountains is the torment of all sore-backed horses, particularly diu-ing the winter season. Despite opposition it will feed upon their skinle»s flesb, often to the very bones. 144 EO.VT UriLDiNG. chargers in vain effort to escape, proved tJiat they won their supper at an enormous expense of leg-wear. Feb. 4/Ju All things being in readiness, we bade farewell to winter- •yiart?rs, and commenced our journey. Crossing the river soon after, on ascending tlie opposite bank, a cart up- sit and deposited its contents in the water. l\ie load, consisting of robes an 1 powder, became thorougiily saturated, and we were employed a full hour in fishing it out. The stream being waist-deep and filled with floating ice, amid which we were forced to pi ange, our task was far from a pleasant one. The freight needed drying, and we were detained two days for that pur- pose. Meanwhile the drenched powder was subjected to the experiments of one of our engages. Having spread it to dry, he was carelessly bend- ing over it, when a spark from the camp-fire struck the ready ignitible ; a sprightly flash, enveloping the luckless wight in a sheet or flame, told the instant reoult. Springing to his feet, he exclaimed : " Bless my stars ! Tiiat's what I call regular blowing up!" " Aye, aye, my lad," says one. " You was always a bright youth, — but never before did you appear half so brilliant. 'Tis a fact, or I'm a liar !" Resuming our course, the second night following was passed at a pool of water between L'eau-qui-court and Rawhide. Here, having placed my shoes under my head for better security, I slept soundly till morning. Rising at an early hour, I turned for them, but one was missing, and, after searcliing far and near, it could not be found. The mystery of its disappearance, however, was fully solved by the nu- merous wolf tracks that appeared on all sides ; — some straggling marauder had stolen it during the night, and quietly deposited it in his empty stomach as the substiLute for an early breakfast. Our camp at Rawhide was beset with a throng of Indians from an adjoin- ing village, who, as usual, were loudly clamorous and importunate for liquor. A beautiful young squa.w was brought in, to exchange for that article. However, their solicitations were of no avail and their vitiated appetites went unappeased. On the rith of February we reached the Fort, and thus ended our disas- trous and eventful expedition. Winter in the neighborhood of the Platte had been remarkably mild, and at no time during the season had the snow remained upon the ground to exceed a day. Vegetation, even thus early, was beginning to put forth, and bring to view the beauty and loveliness of spring. Preparations were already on foot for building a boat for the transporta- tion of furs to the States by way of the river, and, at the solicitation of of the company's agent, I reluctantly consented to take charge of it during the voyage, — thus deferring, for the present, my design of visiting Oregon. The timber used in its construction was procured from the neighboring pine hills, and prepared by a laborious process of hand, with the aid of a pit-saw. The ribs and other timber were obtained f-rom an ash grove, a few A PETTY I,OOKL\G SET. 145 miles above the Fort, and three men were busily engaged in puttinrr all things in readiness for the expected spring rise — an event which seldom occurs before the I5th of May. The winter's trade having closed, an interval of nearly three months' leisure followed, which resulted in a hunting expedition that included my self with six others. Anxious to explore the mountains, we set our faces westward ; but, owinnr to the reported closeness of game en route, very little provisions were taken with other necessaries. Keeping the river bottom by a rocky ridge for some ten miles, our course led through several beautiful groves and broad stretches of rich alluvial soil, that presented an encouraging prospect to agriculturists. After a few hours' ride v/e came to a point at which the stream sweeps round the ridge's base, causing a vertical wall of lias and sandstone nearly one hun- dred and iifty feet high. Abandoning tlie river bottom at this place, we ascended to the high prairie on the left, where an interesting plateau greeted us, extending far away to the south and west, till it became lost in the neighboring moun- tains. Continuing on a short distance, we again struck the river, at a small opening between two hills, and made camp in a grove of willows. Opposite this place is a large heavily wooded island, of a blueish loam, upon a subtratum of fossiliferous limestone. Above and below are lofty walls of limestone and ferruginous rock, that, in many places, overhang the sweeping waters at their base, and form roof- age beneath which swarms of prairie swallows are wont to raise their annual broods. Consuming our scanty supply of provisions at a single meal, each soon disposed of himself for the night. A mild atmosphere invited to repose : and, enwrapped in a single robe, my troubles were speedily forgotten in a quiet slumber. But during the succeeding interval, a change came over the spirit of my dream. I was suddenly aroused by the crash of a huge tree, that fell across my bed, and only a providential curve arching upwards, had saved me from instant death ! "Hurra, for me!" I exclaimed, as my startled campmates came cluster- ing around, — " It's better to be born luckij than rich!" The wind was nov/ blowing a perfect hurricane, and the trees tottered around us, threatening every moment to fall. In an hour or so, however, the gale abating, we again addressed ourselves to sleep. Towards morning, feeling a disagreeable warmth and superincumbent pressure, I was induced to uncover, and, looking out, the cause was ex- plained by the presence of a dense snow that covered the ground to the depth of several inches. The fallen snow was melting fast, and that yet descending soon merged into rain. A pretty-looking set of felloM/'s were we, in a comparatively short time ! — ^blankets, robes, clothes, and every article about us were wee — soaking wet — and covered with mud. It required an cflbit of several hours to kindle a fire, so thoroughly saturated was everything with water ; — thid done, we all gathered around it, and — such a group ! — Oh, the beautie.^ of mud and water ! A painter might describe it, — 1 cannot. 13 146 INDIAN FORTS. If the reader imagines we felt in a superlative good humor while stand- ing there, breakfastless, shivering, and wet, he has conjured up a strange illusion. It having ceased rainrng about mid-day, in the course of the afternoon we enjoyed a be lutiful sunshine for a couple of hours, which enabled us to assume a better t;-avelling plight; and, favored by a mild atmosphere and clear sky, on the following morning, we again resumed our course. Striking upon an Indian trail, we bore leftward from the river, and, in a short ride, came to a sand creek shut in by precipitous embankments of limestone, through which our road led by a narrow defile. A transparent spring gushes from the right bank with considerable noise, furnishing a beautiful streamlet to its liitherto high bed, Wiiich is known as the " Warm Spring." A short distance above the mouth of this creek, the Platte makes its final egress from the Black Hiils through a tunnel-Uke pass, walled in upon either side by precipitous cliffs of red-sandstone and siliceous lime- stone, sometimes overhanging the stream at their base, and towering to a height of from three to five hundred feet. The high table lands consti- tuting these mimense walls, are surmounted with shrubs and occasional pines and cedars, that unite to present a wild romantic scenery. Continuing on, and bearing still further leftward, we passed a beautiful valley, graced with several springs and a small grove of cottonwood, with cherry and plum bushes, near which rose a conical hill abundant in fos- siliferous limestone of a snowy whiteness. A diminutive pond in the vicin- ity afforded several varieties of the testaceous order, both bivalves and univalves — a circumstance quite rare among mountain waters. The soil of this locality appeared to be a compound of clay, sand, and marl, and well adapted to agriculture. Passing this, our course led over a gently undulating prairie, bounded on either side by pine hills. The soil was generally of a reddish, sandy loam, intermixed with clay ; and, judging from the long dry grass of the preceding year, it was both rich and productive. Towards night we arrived at a large creek, bearing the name of Bitter Cottonwood, — so called from the abundance of that species of poplar in its valley. These trees generally grow very tall and straight with expansive tops, — averaging from twenty-five to one hundred and fifty feet in height. The creek occupies a wide, sandy bed, over which the water is dispersed in several shallow streams. The valley is broad and of a jetty, vegetable mould, variegated, at intervals, with layers of gravel deposited by aqueous currents, and is bounded on both sides by abrupt acclivities leading to the beautiful plateaux and lofty pine hills so abundant in the neighborhood. The remains of three or four Indian forts were situated adjoining the place selected for our encampment. These were built of logs, aiTanged in a circular form, and enclosing an area, sufficient for the acccmmodation of twenty or thirty warriors. Tlie walls were generally about six feet high, with single entrances, and apertures in various places for the use of their defenders in case of attack. All Indian forts, meeting my observation in subsequent travels, with one or Iwo exceptions, were of the same general description. Some, however CIIEIiRY TEA. 147 Ni^»»^^<^^^#^ are almost entirely roofed in by an arched covering, presenting a coniform appearance. The only exception to this mode of fortification was of a quadrangular form, and in a solitary instance the materials were of rock. The latter structure I shall take occasion to describe in due course. The valley gave abundant indication of wild fruit at the proper season, — such as plums, cherries, currants, goose and buffalo berries, (shepherdia argentea.) The signs of game were very plentiful, particularly elk ; — after camp two or three of us sallied out with our rifles in quest of these wary animals, while others were busily employed in digging for roots to appease the gnawing of appetite, which began to make itself most sensibly felt by all. About sundown both parties came in, — the hunters quite dispirited, not having seen any thing in the shape of elk or other game, — but the root diggers had been more lucky and brought with them a small supply of nutritious aliments, which were divided equally among the company, — and, through scarcely a half dozen mouthfuls were apportioned to each, they answered, to some extent, the designed object. These roots consisted of two varieties, viz : pomme hlanc, and com- mote. The pomme hlanc, or white apple, is a native of the prairies and moun- tains, oval shaped and about three and a half inches in circumference. It is encased in a thin fibrous tegument, which, when removed, exposes an interior of white pulpy substance, much like a turnip in taste. It gen- erally grows at a depth of three or four inches, in the soil of hill-sides and plateaux, where is found a reddish clay loam abundant in fragmentary rocks and gravel. The stalk attains a height of about three inches;, and in general description is quite like a well known article, common to the States, called " sheep-sorrel." At the proper season it bears a handsome white blossom, that would suffer no disparagement when placed in juxtaposi- tion with many of the choicer specimens of our gardens. The commote* is a root much like the common radish in size and shape, while a brownish skin envelopes a substance of milky whiteness, soft and nutritious, and of an agreeable taste. It is found most abundant in river bottoms, and requires a rich alluvial soil, well mixed with sedimentary deposites and vegetable matter. It generally penetrates to a depth of about four inches. Its leaves resemble those of the carrot in shape and color, and seldom grow to exceed two inches from the ground, while a stalk equally unpretending, bears a blueish blossom, not without some just claim to beauty. The pomine blanc and commote are equally good whether boiled or raw, and are uniformly harmless, even with those unaccustomed to thoir use as an article of food. Making way with our scanty supply, a fire was struck and a kettle of tea prepared from wild cherry bark, which proved quite wholesome. This, as I ascertained, is a drink quite common among mountaineer? and Indians in the spring season, and is used for purifying the blood and reducing it to suitable consistency for the temperature of summer. A* the successful performer of the task assigned, I most cordially attL^st to * I am ignorant of the msaning or derivation of this name. 148 FASTING AND FEASTING. its virtues, and recommend it as the most innocent and effective medicine, if medicine it may be called, that can be em])loyed for a result so neces- sary to general health. Early on the succeding day we resumed our journey. I now for the lirst time noticed a gradual change in the geological character of the country. The soil in many places appears to be sterile, and is generally of a red clayish nature, mixed with sand and fragmentary rock, and strongly impregnated with mineral salts, among which nitre forms a pro.ihnent component. Some spots, for a considerable extent, are entirely destitute of vegetation, and present a surface whitened by saline efflorescences, among which nitre and sulphate of soda form a predominant piirt. The character of the various moulds (with the exception of the allu- vion in the vicmity of the rivers and creeks) is almost entirely primitive, like numerous strata of rocks upon whicii they repose. The grass, from the dry specimens of the previ,ous summer's grov^rth, appeared to be of a longer and a coarser kind, and more sparse and iso- lated. The hhort bufialo-grass of the grand prairie had almost entirely disappeared, — in some places a blueish salt grass (herba salce) showed itself in plats uncropped by game. Ai'temisie,* or rather greasewood of the mountaineers, became quite abundant, as did absinthe, or wild sage, together with severals specimens of the cacti family, which are the common pest of the mountain prairies. The purilying effects of saline exhalations, with the odor of the grease- wood and absinihe of the prairies, plateaux and table lands, and the balsam and cedar of the adjacent mountains, afl'orded an atmosphere, even at this unfavorable season, as aromatic as the air of Eden and as wholesome as the deathless clime of Elysium. Eastward l;iy a broad expanse of prairie, bounded only by the horizon, while westwai J and upon either hand, the high sunmiits of the Black Hills, with their pines and snows, told our ingress to other and wilder scenes. Our course for some twenty or twenty-five miles led through a broad valley, though occasionally winding among rugged hills of red-sandstone and primitive rock, with denuded sides and level summits, covered with shrubs and dwarfish pines. Towards night, on reaching a small stream, called Horse-shoe creek, we struck camj). One of the party having killed a buck deer, we were promptly on hand, and not at all bacliward in obeying the calls of appe- tite, sharpened by a continuous abstinence of three days. * Lt. Fremont, in his report relative to the proceedings of the expedition of 1842, *3, and '4, has designated some three varieties of shrubs by the general terra arte- misie, among whicli are greasewood ami prairie sage. Although the latter are of the same family, the difference in their appearance is so marked, I have thought it proper to observe a nominal distinction, and for that reason, they are called ID subsequent pages by teims familiar to the mountaineers. PRAIRIE DOGS. , 149 Deer-meat at this season of the year is very poor eating, — especially that of the buck, — it being both lean and tough ; but, indifferent as it was, we were too hungry to be nice. Previous to reaching camp I rode along the base of a small mountain, some distance to the right of the main party, in quest of game ; there I caught glimpse of the first panther I had yet met with. Jumping from my horse, I thought to give him a passing shot, — but he, neither liking my looks nor the smell of gunpowder, made hasty retreat to his mountain home. Passing leisurely on, my course led through a large village of prairie- dogs, whic'i reminds me of having heretofore neglected a description of these singular animals. I am at a loss to imagine what it is in the habits or looks of the prairie- dog that entitles him to that appellation. In appearance and size he more approximates a large species of the sciuriis family, commonly called the fox-squirrel, than anything I can name. His tail, however, is but. an inch and a half long, while his ears and legs are also short ; — as a whole, perhaps, he is a trifle larger and more corpu- lent than the fox-squirrel. His " bark " is precisely like the occasional chatterings of that animal, and his color is of a brownish red. His habits are quite inoffensive and lead him to procure his food from roots and grass. Clumsy in his motions, he seldom ventures far from home — fearful of the numerous enemies that beset him on all sides, both from birds and beasts of piey. These animals congregate together in large villages, and dig their bur- rows adjoining each other ; — the dirt thrown from them often forming cone- like elevations three or four feet high, in' whose tops are the entrances. The latter are nearly of a perpendicular descent for two feet, and then slope away to a great distance under ground. These villigers locate without regard to the vicinity of water, and it is gravely doubted, by many persons, whether they make the same use of that fluid as other animals ; — I have seen large settlements of them in high arid prairies, at a distance of fifteen or tsventy miles from either stream or pool of water, and in regions subject to neither rain nor dews. They are keen of sight and scent, and seemed governed by some code of federative regulations for mutual safety. Their guards are regularly posted at the suburbs of every village, whose duty it is to be continually on the alert and give timely warning of the approach of danger. This the cautious sentinels discharge by standing erect at the slightest tainture of the air, or startling noise, or strange appearance ; and, having ascertained by careful observations its nature and cause, they sound the sharp yelp and chatter of alarm, in a hurried manner, — then, betaking themselves to the watch-towers that protect the entrances to their burrows, from the verge of the steep parapets they again renew their warning notes, w'hen the whilom busy populace, bescattered at brief distances for amuse- ment or food, return with all possible despatch to their ready holes and dis- appear from view. The faithful sentinels are last to retreat from their posts, and not unfre- ouently maintain their ground at the hazard of individual safety. 13* loO WILD SCENES. On the disappearance of the cause of alarm, thoy are tlie first to com- municate the pleasing intelUgence, and soon the rsassure J community again betak ' themselves to their business and sports. i'he prairie-owl and rattlesnake maintain friendly relations with the^e 4noff jasive villagers, and not unfrequently the three heterogeneous associates occupy the same subterranean appartments; — a strange companionship of birds, beasts, and reptiles! Tiie prairie dog is extremely tenacious of life, and can seldom be killed vvit[i a riHe, unless by a brain-shot ; and then, even, it is ditficult to secure him, as his companions will immediately convey the carcase into their holes beyond reach. Thi flesh of these animals is tender and quite palatable, and their oil superior in fineness, and absence from all grosser ingredients, to that of any other known animals ; it is highly valued as a medicine in certain cases. CHAPTER XIII. The Creek valley. — The Platte as a mountain stream. — Canon. — Romantic prospect. — Comical bear story. — Perilous encounter with a wounded bull. — Geological re- marks.— Division of party.— Safety of spring travel.— La Bonte's creek.— -Remarks by the way. — Service-berry. — Deer Creek. — General observations.— Moccasin mak- ing.—Box-elder.— Bear killed. — Excellence of its flesh. — Different kinds of bears in Oregon and the mountains.— The grizzly bjar, his nature and habits. Ho:isE-sHOE creek is a stream of considerable size, that traces its way through a broad valley of rich alluvion, well timbered with cottonwood and box-elder, and affording all the usual varieties of mountain fruit. The grass of the preceding year's growth was quite rank and stout, giving evidence of a fertile soil. Resuming our course, we again bore towards the river with the design of crossing, and, after a few hours' ride came to its banks, through a broad opening b-tween two ridges of hills that communicated with it from the high p'rairies and table lands upon the left. Hero, however, fording was impracticable, the stream being too high and the current swift. The IMitto of the mountains retains scarcely one cliaracteristic of the river with which the reader has hitherto become so familiarized. It is now confined to a bed of rock and gravel, not exceeding two hundred yards in width, and is of unwonted clearness and transparency. Its baTiks are Bteep, and the attrition of high waters discloses a deep vegetable mould in their vicinity, favorable to the growth of grain or other produce. A small bottom of rich sai:dy lonm upon the opposite side lay at the base of a liigh ridge of table lands, which presented its rugged sides of red- INTERESTING VIEW. 151 sandstone, almost vertical in their position, and ornamented with an occar sional stunted pine, or cedar, or shrub of the buffalo-berry, (shepherdia ar- gentea,) while at their base reposed, in huge masses, a profuse medley of fallen fragments, strown around in all the wild confusion of savage scenery. A few hundred yards to the left, the Platte forces its way through a barrier of table lands, forming one of those striking peculiarities incident to mountain streams, called a "canon."* Improving the opportunity afforded by a short stay, I ascended an emi- nence to enjoy a full vew of the grand spectacle. Tlie mountain through which the river finds passage, at this place, is from five to eight hundred feet high, opposing perpendicular walls upon each side, that at many points overhang the narrow stream which sweeps with its foaming waters among the rocks below. This canon is nearly two miles in length. About midway of the dis- tance the whole stream is precipitated in an unbroken volume from a ledge of rocks, causing a cataract of some twenty or twenty-five feet descent. Standing upon the dizzy verge of this frightful chasm, and gazing adown its dark abyss, the aspect is one of terrific sublimity, and such an one as will cause the beholder to shrink back with instinctive dread ! These walls are principally of red-sandstone, and ferruginous rock, the precise character of which I was unable to determine. Upon the summit I noticed an abundance of silex, with some elegant specimens of crystal- line quartz, that, reflecting the sun's rays, shone like gems in the crown of a mountain-god ; a number of singular ligneous petrifactions also met my observation, principally consisting of pine and cedar. The surrounding country brought within the scope of vision an interest- ing and romantic scene. The lofty table land in front (with diversified surfaces of granitic rock and vegetable earth, affording a scanty nourish- ment for herbage and foothold for dwarfish cedars and pines) spread far away to the snow-clad mountains of the north, — while rearward at its base lay the broad valley through which passes the Oregon trail, shut in upon two sides by rugged hills; and farther on arise the snowy sides of the Lara- mie chain, with their cloud-capped summits. To the left, peak towering above peak, in gradual succession, point to the ridge dividing the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific; and, to the right, the lessening eminences, vallons, and plateaux, guide the eye to where the boundless prairie revels in wild beauty and owns itself the realm of eternal Solitude ! How magnificent must be the scene when spring arrays the surrounding landscape in her own loveliness, and bedecks the wilderness with gaudy verdure ! Bearing again to the left, we continued our course by a winding buffalo-path which soon brought us to a broad valley borderino: upon tlie Platte. ♦The Spanish word " canon" implies a narrow, tunnel-like passage between high and precipitous banks, formed by mountains or table lands. It is pronounced kanyow, and is a familiar term in tlie vocabulary of a mountaineer. 152 OBSERVATIONS. Riding on, we soon came to a large sand creek ; and, observing several bulls in the vicinity, we accepted the advantage offered by a small grove of cottonwoods and willows, with a clear spring, and struck camp. During the day, the oddity of an old Franco-Canadian, who accompa- nied UK, afforded ine considerable amusement. Observing that he had car- r;ed his giio uncharged lor several days past, a circumstance so singular in tills country led me to enquire the cause. The old fellow, with the most laughable sangfroid, answered as follows : " Me carry fusee load ? No, no ! monsieur. No good, carry fusee load sur le printems. Certes, much bear come out — him dangereux. Me live long en le montagnes ; oui, no remarque — duo, tree, great many year ! Sacre dem bear, — vat you call him en la American ?" " Grizzly bear, I suppose you mean," said I. " Oui, oui, monsieur ; much graces, monsieur ! Oui, gizzle bear ; me parler bon American, que no remarque gizzle bear! ('ntonner! Sacre dem gizzle bear, him come out une day, kill me de pres." " Well" continued I; " what has that to do with carrying your gun un- loaded?"' "Oui, oui; pardonner, monsieur. Me parler tel une bon American! Me reciter, sacre uem bear, — vat you call him, monsieur ? Oh, gizzle bear ! Sacre dem gizzle bear, me see him une day, en le printems ; big, grand felleu. Slioot him fusee ; make him much blood ; no kill him. Sacre dem bear, gizzle bear, him jump for me. 'Wa-r-r-h !' he say, (im- itating the bea,r.) Bon Dieu ! me no stay dare ; me bein fast run ; me abandonner la fusee ; me climb une leetil pine. Sacre dem bear — vat you call him ? Ah, oui, gizzle bear. Certes, monsieur, me parler bon Amer- ican, tel une naturel ! Sacre dem bear, him come to tree ; no climb him, — he too leetil. Look him all round, den ; sacre dem bear, gizzle bear did. See fusee lie; pick him up; cock him fusee, sacre dem bear, gizzle bear did. Take him aim at me ; snap him fusee tree time. Oh, mon Dieu ! mon Dieu ! Suppose him fusee been load ! Tonnerre de bateme ! Him shoot me ; him kill me dead ! sacre dem bear, dem gizzle bear vould ! Certes, monsieur ; por le assure, sacre dem gizzle bear, him kill me ! en le verite, monsieur, him kill me dead !" " So," resumed I, "your reason for not carrying your gun loaded is, you are fearful that a bear might chance to get hold of it and shoot you !" " Certes, monsieur ; en le verite ! No carry gun load, sur le printems. Sacre dem bear get 'old of him, he shoot !" Towards night, two of our party, who had gone in pursuit of buffalo, returned laden with meat, which, though poor, was far preferable to the lean venison we had fed upon for the last twenty-four hours. The male buffalo, at this season of the year, is generally fatter than the female, unless it be one of the few barren cows that sometimes are found in large bands; but, neither is worth boasting of. After our long fasting and indifferent fare for six entire days, it is not marvellous that we improved, with quickened zest, the present op- portunity of feasting. DIVISION OF PARTY. 153 '-^•^•^^■^^'^^^^im The day following, two parties started in quest of game, — one of which killed tiiree bulls, at as many shots, within half an hour after leaving camp. The other party also killed two, but, in securing one of them, they met with an exciting adventure. Both animals were extended upon the ground, one entirely and the other apparently dead — the hunters, having butchered one of them, proceeded to the other, and were in the act of raising him to the right position for the commencement of operation. The old fellow, not relishmg the like famil- iarity from new acquaintances, sprang to his feet, and made a plunge at the affrighted hunters, who only escaped the fatal charge by one of those admirable feats of quick dodging so otten in requisition among moun- taineers. The bull, passing between them, fell head foremost against the ground, two or three feet beyond the spot they had occupied scarcely a second previous ; — then rising, with glaring eyes and distended nostrils, and mouth foaming with biood and rage, he pursued one of them in hot chase, for a distance of several hundred yards. ISo close was the bull in a few leaps, that with a sweep of his horns he gored the hunter's back, tearing away his pantaloons and coat, and prostrating him upon all-fours at the edge of a deep ravine, down which he tumbled ; — the enraged beast fol- lowed, but the force of an unbroken headway landed him, with a tremen- dous shock, against the opposite bank, far beyond the hunter. Improve ing the advantage thus gained, the latter escaped through the windings of the ravine, and ascended the bank, without the reach of his pursuer. Having procured his ritie, after nine more shots had riddled the lights of the bull's carcase, the business of butchering was again commenced and terminated without furtlier mishap. Our stay at this camp was prolonged for three or four days. The geological character of the vicinity corresponds very much with that previously remarked, and to describe it in full would seem too much hke a repetition. I have, perhaps, said sufficient to give the reader a cor- rect idea of the prominent characteristics of these parts, and hence, for the sake of brevity, shall hereafter forbear further notes upon this subject, unless some uniform change or striking peculiarity should call for a passing observation. Prior to resuming our journey, a disagreement occurred between us rel- ative to the proposed route. Some were desirous of proceeding southward into the Plains of Lara- mie ; thence, bearing eastward to Laramie river, following its valley to Fort Platte ; — others were anxious to continue up the Platte to Sweet Water, or further, and from thence proceed as circumstances or inclination might suggest. This difference finally resulted in a division of the party, — four in favor of the western, and three of the southern route, — myself being in- cluded with the former. Selecting two pack-mules for the conveyance of provisions and camp- 154 MOCCASIN MAKING. equipage, the day following we mounted our horses and were under way. With the exception of myself, the present party consisted of old and ex- perienced mountaineers, well acquainted with the country and the nature of Indians. Though, in regard to the latter, little danger was apprehen- ded at this season of the year, as the Sioux had not yet left their winter quarters, and they rarely traverse the vicinity of Sweet Water before the middle of May. Other tribes we might look upon as friendly. We, therefore, anticipated a safe and pleasant excursion. During the day our course led over a rough undulating prairie, bounded on the right mostly by the river, and on the left by the mountains. In the heads of valleys and ravines I noticed numerous withered stalks of the bread-root, (psoralea esculenta,) indicating its great abundance, and also an increased quantity of absinthe. At night we encamped at the forks of a small stream called La Bonte's creek. Near the confluence of its waters with the Platte are the remains of a log cabin, occcupied by a trading party several years since. The creek is tolerably well timbered, and the valley, through which il winds its Vv'ay, affords many boautiful bottoms of rich soil. The rock in the vicinity disclosed a furruginous character, especially the sandstone. Among the usual fruit-bearing shrubs and bushes, I here noticed the " service berry." This kind of fruit is very abundant in the mountainons parts of Oregon, where it attains a size but little inferior to the common plum, and is highly esteemed for its superior flavor. Leaving La Bonte's creek, we travelled by easy stages, for three suc- cessive day?, and struck camp at the mouth of Deer creek. Our course led over several beautiful streams, most of them well tim- bered with Cottonwood and box-elder, and occasionally skirted by rich bot- toms. Previous to reaching this point we followed along the Platte valley, for a distance of some twenty or thirty miles, which presented several fine bottoms of rich sandy soil upon either bank, together with numerous groves of cottonwood. The face of the country is generally a succession of ridges and hol- lows, intersected by ravines and small streams of water. At Deer creek, and for some distance before reaching it, the mountain chain to our left approaches within four or five miles of the river, rising abruptly to a height of from eight to fifteen hundred feet, with frowning brows and pine-clad summits. Deer creek is one of the largest affluents of the Platte, from the south, between Sweet Water and Laramie. At this place it is about eight yards broad, with a smooth and transparent current that sweeps over a bed of rock and gravel. Its banks are well timbered with large cottonvvoods, and present rich bottoms of alluvial soil, very luxuriant in grass. Even this early in the season, the fresh grass of the vicinity affords tempt- ing nourishment for our animals, and wishing to favor them as much as possible, we have concluded to remain a short time. During the succeeding interval we were variously occupied in hunting, TOot-digging, and moccasin-making. The latter is a business in which A FEAST OF BEAR MEAT. 155 every mountaineer is necessarily a proficient, and rarely will he venture upon a long jourr«2y without the appurtenances of his profession. The process of shoe-?naking with him is reduced to its most simple form. He merely takes tv/o pieces of bufllilo (or any other suitable) skin, each being a little longer and wider than his foot, particularly towards the heel; these he folds separately, and lays them together parallel with the turned edges ; then, rounding and trimming the sides, to render them foot- shaped, with an awl and the sinew of buffalo or other animal, or small strips of thin deer-skin, (" loltang,^'') he sews the vamps from end to end, — then after cutting a tongue-like appendage in the upper side, midway from heel to toe, and stitching together the posterior parts, his task is done. Having obtained a quantity of sap from a grove of box-elders near camp, we found it a sweet and pleasant liquid, and not inferior to that of maple. Sugar might be manufactured from it, with little trouble. The leaves of this tree, as well as the general appearance of its wood, greatly assimilate those of maple, and, independent of its bushy tops and stunted, winding growth, it would be hard to tell the difference at a first glance. Game was plenty on every side, both buffalo, deer, and elk, with some few bear. The second day after our arrival, one of the latter, attracted by the scent of fresh buffalo meat, ventured within gun-shot of camp. Instantly the balls of four rifles were buried in his carcase. Aroused by this feeling salute, he rushed towards us at the top of his speed, when our horses, affrighted at the strange apjicarance, broke snorting away over the neigh- boring hills, and we ourselves took to trees as fast as possible. In the midst of this general consternation a pistol ball, fired by one of the party, buried itself in the brains of our troublesome visitor and laid him prostrate. He was one of a species common to the mountains, called the red bear, and must have weighed four or five hundred pounds. The fat upon his back was full three inches thick His skin when stretched would have compared in size to that of a buflalo, and the claws of his feet were full three incties lonfj. At this season of the year, when these animals first leave their dens, tney are much the fattest, — a singular circumstance, if we remember the fact of their remaining holed up for the entire winter, without eating ! After butcherinjj the u'reasy victim, and brini'injj our erratic horses back to camp, we regaled ourselves with an ample feast of bear's liver, heart, and kidneys, basted with fat, — a dish that epicures might well covet. Then, filling a large camp-kettle with portions of the " fieece " and ribs, we allowed it to boil till the next morning, and thus prepared another deli- cious entertainment, such as is rarely met with in any country other than this. Bear meat, to bo tender and good, should be boiled at least ten hours. This is probably the most preferable mode of cooking it, though a roast of the article is far from bad. There are four several varieties of bear found in the Rocky Mountains 156 NATURE AND IIADITS OF THE GRIZZLY BEAR. and countries adjacent, viz. : Tiie grizzly bear, the black, the red, and the white. Of these, the grizzly bear stands preeminent in ferocity and strength. He will almost invariably flee at the sight or scent of a man, and seldom attacks any one unless wounded. Wjien shot, he generally runs at full speed towards the sound, and woe to the unfortunate hunter who then comes in his way, unless fully prepared for a deadly encounter ! This animal reigns prince of the mountains, and every other beast within his wide realm acknowledges his supremacy. Wolves and panthers dare not approach him, or disturb aught savoring of his ownership. Even the carcase of his prey, covered with the earth and rock his cautious instinct teaches him to heap upon it for preservation, is unmolested, though hundreds of wolves and panthers might be starving around. Buffalo dread his presence far more than the dangerous approach of the hunter, and will sooner bring into requisition their swiftest powers of flight on such occasions. With great difficulty a horse can can be per- suaded to go within any near distance of one of them, even when led, and then he will quail and tremble in every joint, from extreme terror. In short, the grizzly bear stalks forth at pleasure, in his majesty and strength, lord of the wild solitudes in which he dwells, and none dares op- pose him. Some writers assert that bears will not prey upon dead carcases, — this is contrary to fact. I have often known them take possession of the carcases of animals, even when nearly putrid, and remain until they were devoured. They frequently kill buffalo, horses, and cattle to gratify their taste for animal food, and, in such cases, always drag their prey to some convenient spot, and perform the task of burial by heaping upon it piles of rock or earth, to a depth of several feet, for protection against the voracity of other beasts of prey. It is not uncommon, even, that they drag the entire carcase of a full-grown bull a distance of several hundred yards, by the horns, for this purpose, — so great is their strength and so accute their sagacity. H t-H N N k! W H > Pi en Ti ■-» O '-^ ■» J > > ^ ' i 4 t «« J > J > 159 CHAPTER XIV. Desperate encounter with a grizzly bear, and extraordinary instance of suffering. — Close contest. — A comical incident. — Cross Platte.— Canon camp.— Sage trees.— Mountain sheep, and all about them. — Independence Rock ; why so called, and description of it.— Devil's Gate.— Landscape scenery. The adventure recorded in the preceding chapter called forth the re- hearsal of many thrilling stories of frightful encounter with that proud monarch of the mountains, the grizzly bear. Two or three of these it may not be uninteresting to transcribe. Several years since, an old trapper by the name of Glass, with his com panion, while on an excursion, came upon a large grizzly bear. Bruin, having received the salute of two rifles, as usual, rushed towards his uncivil assailants, who broke from him with all possible despatch. But Glass, stumbling, fell prostrate in his flight, and before he could recover his feet the infuriated beast was upon him. Now commenced a death-struggle. The pistols of the hunter were both discharged in quick succession, — the ball of one entering the breast of his antagonist, and that of the other grazing his bick. Smarting and maddened by the pain of additional wounds, the bleeding monster continued the conflict with the fury of desperation, — tearing from the limbs and body of the unfortunate man large pieces of trembling flesh, and lacerating him with the deep thrusts of his teeth and claws. Meanwhile the sufferer maintained, with his butcher-knife, an obstinate defence, though with fast waning effort and strength. Finally, enfeebled by the loss of blood, and exhausted from the extraordinary exertions of a desperate and unequal contest, he was unable to oppose further resis- tance, and quietly resigned himself to his fate. The bear, too, with the thick blood oozing from his numerous wounds, and faint from the many stabs among his veins and sinews, seemed equally in favor of a suspension of hostilities ; and, extending himself across the hunter's back, he^ remained motionless for two hours or more. But now another enemy commences an assault upon his vitals — that enemy is death. In vain is defensive eflbrt. In vain are all his struggles. He falls by the hunter's side a lifeless corse. The setting sun had cast his lurid glare upon the ensanguined spot, as the comrade of the miserable Glass ventured near to ascertain the result of the fierce encounter. There lay the body of his deserted friend, stretched out, apparently life- less and half-torn to pieces ; and, by its side, lay tlie carcase of that ene- my, which had waged with it such murderous war, cold and stifliened in death! Now, doubly terrified at his loneliness, but still governed by sordid mo- 160 A CLOSE CONTEST. tives, he stripped the former of his arms and every other valuable, then no longer needed (as he supposed) by their owner, and, mounting his horse, started immediately for the nearest trading po?t. On his arrival he recounted the particulars of the fatal occurrence, — carefully concealing, however, his own criminal conduct. The story was accredited, and the name of Glass found place upon the long catalogue of those who had fallen a prey to wild beasts and savage men. Six weeks elapsed and no one thought of the subject of our sketch as among the living. The general surprise, therefore, may be readily imag- ined, on opening the fort-gates one morning, at finding before them the poor, emaciated form of a man, half-naked, and covered with wounds and running sores, and so torn the fleshless bones of his legs and thighs were exposed to view in places ! and how this astonishment was heighten- ed on recognizing the person of Glass in the illy defined lineaments of his countenance — the very man so long regarded as the inhabitant of another world ! A veritable ghost suddenly appearing upon the spot could not have occasioned greater wonder ! But, sensations of pity and commiseration quickly succeeded those of surprise, and the unhappy sufferer was conveyed within doors and received from the hands of friends that careful attention his situation so much re- quired. The story of his misfortunes was thrillingly interesting. When left by his companion for dead, he was in a state of unconsciousness, with scarce- ly the breath of life retained in his mangled body. But, the soft night- wind stanched his wounds, and a slight sleep paraally revived him from his death-like stupor. With the morning, the slight sensations of hunger he began to ex- perience were appeased from the raw flesh of the carcase at his side; and, thus strengthened, by a slow and tedious eflbrt he was enabled to reach a near stream and quench his thirst. Still further revived, he again crawled to the carcase at the demands of appetite. In this manner he continued for three days, when the putrescent corse compelled him to abandon it. Then it was he commenced his tedious return to the fort, (some seventy miles distant,) which he performed during an interval of forty successive days ! The whole of this long stretch he crawled upon his hands and knees, — subsisting, for the meanwhile, only upon insects, such as chance threw in his way, but passing most of the time without one morsel with which to appease the gnawings of hunger or renew his wasted strength. Yet, great as were his sufferings and intolerable as they may seem, he survived them all, and, by tlie kind attention of friends, soon recov- ered. He still lives in the town of Taos, New Mexico, and frequently re- peats to wondering listeners the particulars of this terrific and painful adventure. One of our party, whose right hand was much disabled from the effects of a wound, now told his story. For several years succeeding his first arrival in the Rocky Mountains, A COMICAL INCIDENT. 161 he had permitted no opportunity of killing any one of the various species of bear, common to these regions, to pass unimproved. Never did he think of fearing them, and was always the last to retreat in case of a charge. When a bear appeared within any reasonable shooting distance of our hunter, it almost invariably fell a victim to his unerring aim. But, e-e- long, this spirit of bold-daring proved the source of lasting regret to its possessor. On the occasion alluded to, having shot at one of these animals, contra- ry to his usual good luck, he only wounded it. The bear in turn now became the assailant, but received the contents of two pistols before it had time to advance far. Our hunter at this crisis sprang to a neighboring pine, which he commenced climbing. His pursu- er, gaining the tree almost as soon, likewise began its ascent. Here occurred a struggle between them — the man to force his way up- wards, and the bear to prevent him. The former, drawing his butcher- knife, thrust it at the eyes and nose of his antagonist. Not fancying such 'pointed hints upon a delicate subject, Mr. Bruin caught hold of the hunter's hand, and, as an earnest of deep sensitiveness, crushed it between his teeth, — nor even then relinquished the gripe. Transferred to the left hand, the knife continued its work, till the sickening beast commenced sliding down- ward— dragging the poor hunter also to the ground. Both struck at the same time ; but, at that instant, the knife of the latter pierced the heart of his antagonist, and laid him dead at his feet. The unfortunate man, however, lost two of his fingers in the affray, and his hand was otherwise so much injured he has never since recovered its use. Another story related at the same time, though not possessing the deep and thrilling interest of the preceding ones, partakes a little of the ludircous, and will doubtless amuse the reader. The narrator a while since formed one of a trapping party, with which he proceeded to the Utah country. While there, on a certain occasion, having set his traps over night, he returned to examine them the next morning, in quest of beaver, and, to his surprise, one of tliem was missing. After cautiously examining the premises, under the impression that some lurking Indians had stolen his trap with its contents, he noticed the tracks of bears, near by, which served at once to unravel the whilom mystery of its disappearance. He now began to muse upon his loss, as, without the missing trap, his set would be rendered incomplete, and, under present circumstances, the want of the thing was more than the worth of it. While thus ruminating, a slight noise, among neighboring cherry-bushes and cottonwood, caught his ear, which sounded like some one beating with two sticks. This induced him to approach for the purpose of ascertaining the cause, when an opening revealed to view Mr. Bruin seated upon a log and liold- ing to his lace the missing trap, tightly clasped to his fore-paw. The bear appeared to be regarding the strange instrument with close attention, as if to study into the principles of its construction ; — now gazing at it endwise, then bringing its side in close proximity to his eyes ; tlien turning it over to examine the opposite one ; — now, he would essay its 14* 162 HUNTING CAMP. strength, and lightly taps it upon the log. But this is a painful operation, — tie relinquishes it, and resumes his former grotesque movements. Watching this curious performance, the trapper could scarcely retain his gravity, or master his fondness for the ludicrous sufficiently for the in- tended shot. He did, however, and the comedy was suddenly transformed to a tragedy, by leaving its actor struggling in death. A light fall of snow during the last of our stay at Deer creek, rendered the ground quite muddy and soft ; notwithstanding which we resumed our course early in the morning of the fourth day. Continuing on, a ride of thirty miles brought us to the place where the Oregon trail crosses the Platte ; and, after fording the river, we encamped upon the opposite side. The stream, at this point, is about three hundred yards from bank to bank, and, at the time of our crossing it, swimming deep for a small por- tion of the way. In ordinary stages, the water is but little over three feet deep, and the ford perfectly safe and practicable. The partial melting of the mountain snows had increased the size and velocitv of its current, and rendered our passage slightly dangerous and difficult. The bed appeared to be rocky, and in some places rough, — requiring much caution in crossing waggons, to prevent them from overturning. On the third day following, we arrived at another remarkable canon, after travelling a distance of thirty-five or forty miles. Here, finding large numbers of mountain sheep, we were induced to remain a short time. Our course for most of this distance was confined to the valley of the Platte, on account of the greater supply of wood found upon its banks. Towards noon of the first day, we passed a point, called the " Red Buttes," at which the river cuts its way through a lofty ridge of hills. This passage left a considerable bank upon both sides, shut in by abrupt walls of red argillaceous sandstone, towering to the height of several hundred feet. The soil was generally a mixture of clay and sand, and, in some places, afforded a reddish loam which appeared to be very rich. A short ride from the " Red Buttes " took us across a beautiful stream, with a broad bottom, well timbered with cottonwood. Large herds of buflalo were continually in sight upon the whole route. Several miles previous to reaching the canon, my notice was first attracted to the extraordinary size attained by the wild sage ; it having merged its shrub- like appearance into that of trees varying from five to ten feet in height and from twenty to twenty-five inches in circumference at the root. The magnificent dimensions of this herb are retained for a large extent of territory to the south and west of this vicinity. It is frequently made Bse of for fire-wood, and the prairies, in many places, are covered with Deautiful groves of it, — perfuming the atmosphere and revelling in peren- nial verdure. The canon before referred to, is caused by the river passing through a chain of hills, for a reach of nearly half a mile. MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 163 The current is here sliut in by banks of perpendicular rock, four or five hundred feet high, which sometimes overhang- it, and leave a narrow space of scarcely two hundred feet for its bed. These consist principally of white cretaceous sandstone, soft and friable, and frequently present to view the appearance of regular mason-work. During our stay we succeeded in killing five mountain sheep. Some of these were very large and quite fat. The flesh of this animal is equal in flavor to that of buffalo. It is gener- ally in good order, tender and sweet, and slightly assimilates our common mutton in taste. The habits and appearance of mountain sheep resemble those of no other animal. They select for their favorite habitation the rugged fastnesses of wild and inaccessible mountains. In the cold of winter, they descend to some of the numerous valleys that so beautifully diversify the scenery of these re- gions, where the verdure of spring so rarely fades ; and, as the warm sea- son advances, they commence their return towards the lofty snow- peaks, keeping even progress v/ith spring and fresh flowers along the mountain-sides. Theirs is a life of unbroken spring — beauty and grandeur are their dwelling place, — and, 'mid the awe-inspiring sublimity of nature's works^ is their home. They gambol upon the fearful verge of the steep cliflT, or climb its perpendicular sides, bidding defiance to all pursuers. There, secure from enemies, they rear their young, and teach them to leap from crag to crag in mirthful gaiety, or traverse the dizzy heights in quest of the varied sweets of changeful spring. These animals are remarkably acute of sight, and quick of scent and hearing. The least noise or tainture of the air excites their attention and places them instantly upon the alert. Mounting upon some high rock, they will stand for hours in the same posture, gazing in the direction of the fancied danger. If fully satisfied of its reality, they abandon their position for another and a safer one, high among more rugged peaks, and often beyond the possibility of offensive approach. Their hue is so akin to that of the rocks which grace their range, they are with difficulty identified when standing motionless, and the hunter is constantly liable to mistake the one for the other. In size the mountain sheep is larger than the domestic animal of that name, and its general appearance is in every respect dissimilar — excepting the head and horns. The latter appendage, however, alike belongs to tlie male and female. The horns of the female are about six inches long, email, pointed, and somewhat flat, — but those of the male grow to an enor- mous size. I have frequently killed them having horns that measured two feet and a half or three feet in length, and from eighteen to nineteen inches in circumference at the base. These ponderous members are of great service to their owner in descend- ing the abrupt precipices, which his habits so often render necessary. In leaping from an elevation he uniformly strikes upon the curve of his horns, and thus saves himself from the shock of a sudden and violent contussion. The color of these animals varies from a yellowish white, to a dark 164 DEVIL'S GATE. brown, or even black. A strip of snowy whiteness extends from ham to ham, including the tail, which is short and tipped with black. Instead of wool, they are covered with hair, which is shed annually. Their cry is much like that of domestic sheep, and the same natural odor is common to both. It is extremely difficult to capture any of them alive, even while youn;:, — and it is next to impossible to make them live and thrive in any otlur chmaie than their own. Hence, the mountain sheep has never yet lound H place in our most extensive zoological collections. Remaining three days at this place, we were again en route, and, bear- i^g to the right, passed over a ridge of rough, rocky sumaiits, and struck the valley of the Sweet Water. Continuing up tlie latter, a siiort ride brought us to the vicinity of a noted landmark of the country, known as Independence Rock, where we encamped. The soil of the river bottoms is good, but the adjoining prairies are sandy and somewhat sterile. The distance from this to the cafion is not far from twenty-three miles. Independence Rock is a solid and isolated mass of naked granite, situated about three hundred yards from the right bank of the Sweet Water. It covers an area of four or five acres, and rises to a height of nearly three hun- dred feet. The general shape is oval, with the exception of a slight depres- sion in its summit where a scanty soil supports a few shrubs and a solitary dwarf-pine. It derives its name from a party of Americans on their way to Oregon, under the lead of one Tharp, who celebrated the fourth of July at this place, — they being the first company of whites that ever made the jour- ney from the States, via South Pass. The surface is covered with the names of travellers, traders, trap- pers, and emigrants, engraven upon it in almost every practicable part, for the distance of many feet above its base, — but most prominent among them all is the word " Independence," inscribed by the patriotic band who first christened this lonely monument of nature in honor of Liberty's birthday. I went to the rock for the purpose of recording my name with the swollen catalogue of others traced upon its sides ; but, having glanced over the strange medley, I became disgusted, and, turning av/ay, resolved, " If there remains no other mode of immortalizing myself, 1 will be content to descend to the grave ' unhonored and unsung.'' " The day following, a heavy fill of snow and sleet forced us to remain in camp, and the consequent muddiness of the route prolonged our stay still further. The vicinity afforded an abundance of game and a sufficiency of dry fuel ; it would, therefore, have been f )lly in us to care for wind or weather, detracting as did cither so little from our comfort. During tliis interval I rode into the prairie a short distance, in quest of game, and struck the river a few miles above camp, at a place where the stream cuts its way through a high ridge of hills, forming another caiioj) RETURN ROUTE. 165 m^^^^^^-^^i^^ *• of three or four hundred yards in length and about forty broad, called the Devil's Gate, as I afterwards ascertained. Its walls arose perpendicularly to a height of between four and five hun- dred feet, and consisted of trap rock, sandstone, and granite. Dismounting, I ascended to the summit, where a grand and picturesque scenery burst upon the view. Above, the broad valley of the Sweet Water stretched far away to the westward, bounded on either side by frowning mountains, that, towering to the height of fifteen hundred or two thousand feet, present their snowy summ.its in proud defiance of wind or storm, and laugh at the impotency of a summer's sun ; — on the south, shaking their piny tops in scornful derision ; and, on the north, with denuded crests of broken granite, chal- lenging the lightnings of heaven and wooing its loudest thunders ; — while further along, the clouds played in humble sportiveness around the base of the great chain dividing the waters of two oceans, nor dared ascend its dizzy heights to range amid eternal snow. Below, in silent grandeur, arose to view the grantic mass that responds to the day-dawn of a nation's existence, surmounted by its lone pine, and bearing upon its broad register the sculptured names of the audacious disturbers of its solitude ; and further yet, the parti-colored peaks of the Black Hills, now white with fresh-fallen snow, now darkened with clus- tering pines, seemed musing in modest retirement; while far around, in every spot accessible to discriminating vision, dense herds of grazing buf- falo covered the prairie with their pall-like mantle of countless numbers. It was indeed a magnificent prospect, and needed only the garnishing hand of spring to render it at as enchanting in loveliness as it was impres- sive in wild sublimity. CHAPTER XV. Return route. — Oregon trail from Independence Rock through the South Pass.— Cross the Sweet Water and Platte.— Mountain Fowl.— Journey up Medicine Bow.— Dangerous country.— A fight with the Sioux.— The " Carcague." — A. sur- prise. Visit to the Crow village. — Number and character of the Crow nation — Selling a prisoner for tobacco. — Description of Laramie Plains. Previously to leaving this place, considerable discussion arose relative to our future course. The proposition was to continue up the Sweet Water valley to the dividing ridge at the head of Green river, and return by the same route ',— versus the suggestion to cross the Sweet Water and proceed up the Platte to the confluence of a large tributary from the south ; thenr- keeping by the valley of the latter stream a.s far as tlie Medicine Bow Mountams, re turn to the Fort by the way of Laramie river. 166 VICINITY OF THE MEDICINE BOW. The fast melting of the snow, and anticipated difficulties, not to say dangers, consequent upon high water in the passage of creeks and rivers, influenced us to adopt tlie latter as the most advisable course. Such was the final decision, and, the men with me being familiarly acquainted with every nook and corner of the adjacent country, I improved the opportunity to elicit from them all possible information relative to the Oregon route from this onward ; and, never having personally travelled from Independence Rock to the head of Green river, it may not be out of place to lay before the reader a succinct statement of some of the items thus gleaned. The distance from this point to the famous South Pass is but little over one hundred miles. The trail follows the Sweet Water to its source, keeping the river valley for most of the distance. This valley consists of an undulating prairie, (at intervals rough,) varying in width from the narrow limits of a few yards to the more ample dimensions of four or five miles. Sometimes, the adjoining hills close in upon the river banks and force the trail among their rugged windings. In one place the road leads over a high stretch of table land for nearly a day's travel, when it again descends to the valley. The stream, in places, is tolerably well timbered with cottonwood, oak, and aspen, and rolls over a rocky bed, with a clear and swift current. The distance tlirough the pass is about fifteen miles, and the ascent and descent are so grad;;al the traveller would scarcely notice the transi- tion from tlie head ol the Sweet Water to that of the Colorado. The hilla at this point are low, and the face of the country rolling — but not rough, affording at all times a most excellent waggon road. On the morning of the fourth day, we accordingly retraced our course, and, having traversed a rugged and hilly country lor some ten or twelve miles, we camped in a small open prairie at the mouth of the Sweet Wat r. During our ride we noticed several large bands of wild sheep, at inter- vals, gazing upon us from huge masses of granite that towered with isolated summits to a frequent altitude of sixty or one hundred feet. The next morning, we crossed the Sweet Water a little above its mouth. The ford was quite feasible, the stream being some ten yards wide and three or four (eet deep, with a bed of sand and pebbles. From this point, travelling up the Platte for about ten miles or more, we arrived opjjosite the creek previously alluded to, and, crossing at a shoal place a short distance above, camped in a grove of cottonwood and willows, at ihe delta formed by the confluence of the two streams. There are several bottoms of very rich soil in this vicinity ; but back from the river the country is rough and hilly. Westward the Sweet Water mt)untains, distant some ten miles, showed their craggy peaks, and to the north and east the piny crests of the Black Hills burst upon the sight; while southward, a succession of high, roUiDg prairies opened to view a variety of romantic and beautiful scenery. f > <•> ■ » 1 I ) ••» ' A Crow Warrior. — Page 169. A FIGHT WITH THE SIOUX. 169 We remained at tliis place the two following- days, for the purpose of hunting-. Game of all kinds appeared in great abundance, particularly elk. At several points among the willows near the river were noticed fresh signs of beaver, and among the hills the recent marks of bear in digging for roots. A large bird called the mountain fowl, quite common to these parts, was the occasion of some little curiosity, being the first of its species I ever saw. This bird is rather larger than our domestic hen, and of a grayish brown color. Little accustomed to the presence of man, it easily falls a prey to the hunter, its flesh is tender and most excellent in flavor. Having obtained a fresh supply of meat, we resumed our course. Continuing up the right b-mk of the creek (which I have named Medi- cine Bow, for lack of a better term) and travelling by easy stages four successive days, we arrived at its head, — a distance of more than fifty miles above its junction with the Platte. Many beautiful bottoms skirted the banks of this stream, which were well timbered with cotton wood, aspen, birch, willow, box-elder, and some few pines. The soil is generally of a reddish loam, and the luxuriant size of the dead grass, together with the rank verdure of the present season, gave evidence of its richness and fecundity. I was pleased to observe not a few wild flowers, of rare beauty, in full bloom, lending their fragrance to the breath of spring, and blushing at the admiration challenged by their loveliness. On the right lay a broad expanse of undulating prairie, covered with stately clusters of absintlie, and disclosing every variety of soil, from the rude sterility of an African desert to the rich productiveness of a garden ;— on the left, the mountains, increasing in altitude, jutted their craggy sides in close p^ximity to the creek — now disclosing immense piles of granite, with red argillaceous, grayish micaceous, dark ferruginous, and white calcareous sandstone, limestone, and coarse-grained conglomerates, naked and variegated with almost every diversity of color, — and now, surmounted by stunted pines and cedars, or towering balsam, hemlock and pinion ; and in front, the lofty peaks of Medicine Bow, rearing tlieir snowy heads beyond the clouds, opposed an eternal barrier to further prospect. As we passed along, I noticed three or four small branches that emptied into the creek from the opposite side, and, just before reaching our present encampm.ent, we crossed three others from the right, all of them well tim- bered and graced by rich valleys and prairillons. This section of country, being the great war-ground between the Sioux and Chyennes on the one side, and the Snakes and Crows on the other, is considered dangerous, particularly from May till November of each year. During that time it is extremely unsafe for a white man to venture within its confines, unless protected by a strong force. A sm.all creek at our right, became the scene of a bloody tragedy two months subsequent to our visit. Three trappers, with whom I became acquainted upon my return to the Fort, tempted by the abundance of fur-bearing game common to the vicinity, came here for the purpose of miking a summer hunt. While successfully pursuing their occupation, unsuspicious of immediate danger, 15 170 LARAMIE PASS. they were suddenly surrounded, early one morning, by a war-party of Sioux, whose first salute was a discharge of fire-arms, accompanied by a shower of arrows and the sharp thunder of deafening yells. Two of them fell dead. The remaining one retreated to a hollow tree, close at hand, into which he crawled ; and, though severely wounded, maintained from it an obstinate resistance till near sundown, — keep'ng at bay the whole host of savage assailants, and thinning their numbers, one by one, with the deadly discharge of his unerring rifle. Six warriors lay stiffened in death, and as many more had felt the burn- ing smart of wounds, — one of the latter having had his tongue shot out, close to its roots ! — and still he continued the unequal contest. His triumph would have been complete had not the remorseless crew, as a last resort, set fire to the woods and burned him from the shell-like for- tress from which they could not drive him. He fell with his companions, mingling his own blood with that of their murderers ; and the scalps of the three were treasured among the horrid trophies of savage victory. Of these unfortunate men, one, named Wheeler, was a Pennsylvanian ; another, named Cross Eagle, was a Swede; and the third, name not re- membered, was a native of France. They were men of noble hearts and much esteemed by all who knew them. In the neighborhood I noticed many indications of coal, of which there appeared to be extensive beds, as well as iron and mineral salts. Continuing on, a short ride brought us to the pass-trail, following which, after travelling a few miles by a road intercepted by frequent ravines be- tween a defile of mountains, we were finally ushered into the broad prairie, opening eastward, known as the Plains of Laramie. The mountains upon both sides were heavily coated with snow, which intruded to the trail, while groves of pine and aspen relieved the eye in scanning their rough escarpments. The prevailing rock appeared to be a compact red granite, with occasional strata of sandstone. While winding among the ravines and aspen groves, we obtained an in- distinct view of a strange-looking, dark-colored animal, that my companions pronounced a " carcague." Of the character, or even the existence of such a creature, I cannot speak from positive knowledge — this, if one, not being sufficiently near for a scrutinizing observation, and no other of its kind ever came in my way ; but, in answer to inquiries, I am enabled to give the following description, — for the correctness of which, however, I will not vouch, though, for my own part, inclined to accredit it. The " carcague " is a native of the Rocky Mountains, and of a family and species found in no other part of the world as yet known. He seems a distinct genus, partaking the mixed nature of the wolf and bear, but is far more ferocious than either. His color is a jet black, hair long and coarse, and body trim and slender. His head and neck are like those of a wolf, but his tail and feet assimilate he bear, and his body presents the marked qualities and appearance of both. A SURPRISE. 171 In size, he is considerably larger than the common cur-dog, and is more agile in his movements. Unlike the bear, he will not run from the preseace or scent of man, and regards the " lord of creation " with neither fear nor favor. Hence he is looked upon as a creature much to be dreaded by ail who are anywise conversant with his character and existence. The representatives of his family are seldom met with, which affords the principal reason why so little, comparatively, is known of his nature and habits. If the information contained in the above description is correct, (and that it is so, I have not the least doubt,) the "carcague " presents, either the ex- traordinary phenomenon of the creation of a new race of wild beasts, or, the living relics of an order now almost extinct ; and, whether he be the one or the other, his existence is vested with deep interest to all lovers of the marvellous. An old trapper related the following story, soon after the incident above noticed, which will serve to give some idea of this ferocious animal : A party of hunters, at their night camp, were seated around a large fire, at whose side were fixed several pieces of meat, en appolas, for the purpose of roasting. All were waiting patiently the kind office of the fire in the preparation of their longed-for suppers, when, attracted by the fumes of the cooking viands, a " carcague " came bounding from the mountain-side, directly over their heads, and m.ade for the roasts, with which he disappeared before even a shot could be fired in their defence. Thus bold and daring is their nature, and so little is their regard for the presence of man. Bearing southward, in the course of a few miles we came to a large creek, and camped early in the afternoon, near the base of a lofty mountain of the Medicine Bow range. In this vicinty were the relics of three Indians forts. On the banks of the stream was an abundance of timber of various kinds ; the bottoms were broad and of a rich soil, shut in by abrupt acclivities that lead to the arid plains through which the creek traces its way. Game appeared in great abundance in all directions, and seemed more than usually tame and accessible. Soon after camping, three of us went in quest of a fresh supply of eat- ables, and, towards night, returned with the choice portions of a buffalo and a black-tailed dear. The valley also afforded large quantities of wild onions, which were shooting forth with singular luxuriance. We passed the night in quiet slumber, neither of us dreaming of the possible existence of human beings, other than ourselves, within a less distance than one hundred miles. In the morning, however, we were awakened by the wild yell of savages, and, on looking to ascertain the cause, saw a dense throng of painted monsters surrounding us, who were w^hooping, screeching, and dancing ic a most terrific and fantastic manner. Seizing our guns, we levelled at th? foremost of tliern, who immediately sheathed their bows and made the sign of friendship and their nation. 172 A TEMPERANCE NATION. They were Crows, and, having discovered us the afternoon before, now came for a morning call. The cliief of the band bore tlie name of Little Robber, and was a large, portly, well-made man, as, in fact, were all his party. He was recognized by one of us as an old acquaintance, and was greeted as such, when several of his people came forward to shake hands, and we were soon on most friendly terms. They informed us, by means of signs, that they were advancing against the Sioux, and their village was encamped upon a neighboring creek, a little to the right, — after which they insisted upon our accompanying them to it Not waiting for further ceremony, they drove up our horses and com- menced saddling them. Supposing it useless to resist, we yielded compli- ance to their wishes, and, in about an hour's ride, came to the village. Here we were inducted to the chief's lodge, where commenced a series of feastings peculiar to Indians on occasions like this. The Crows are a -nation living upon the waters of the Yellow-stone, at a distance of about four hundred miles west-northwet^t of Fort Platte. Their number embraces not far from four hundred and fifty or five hundred lodges, being something near four thousand men, women, and children. Ten or twelve years since they were enemies to the whites, but, more recently, have been on friendly terms. They never kill or injure the white man who comes within their power, and rarely take from him anything without returning for it an equivalent. For instance, — they may take his robe, horse, or gun ; but, in that case, they will return another robe, horse, or gun ; acting upon tlie principle that " exchange is no robbery," even though it be compulsory. . Less contaminated by intercourse with the whites than most mountain tribes, they will tolerate the importation of liquor among them upon no con- sideration, not even by traders lor their own individual use. Whenever it is ascertained that any one in their vicinity, whether white man or Indian, is in possession of that article, they take it from him, if necessary, by force, and pour it upon the ground. Their bitter hatred of this vile stuff, is said to have resulted in the fol- lowing strange manner : The whites, as usual, came first among them bringing alcohol; and, at a feast given to the chiefs, soon after, several of the latter became intoxicated from too lavish potations of the new and curious drink. In common with inebriates of civilized society, they acted very foolishly, and, on ap{)earing botbre their people, the drunken chiei's became the sub- ject of ridicule. This so shamed them, that, upon the return of sobriety, they could not be persuaded to taste another drop, and thereafter made use of their united influence to prevent its introduction and sale. Ever since the above occurrence, alcohol has received, from the Crows, the appellation of " Foors Waler,''^ a term at once attesting their nice moral discernment and good sense. Several years since, a missionary, on visiting them, began through an interpreter to rehearse the story how sin first came into tlie world, and how ali men liad become bad — whether white or red. t t m 3 > » 1 * • !• «• • 'Oft ■ t r c f f < The Crow Chief making a Speech. — Page 175. CROW WAR PARTY. 175 Thus premised, he proceeded to explain the great truths of (Chris- tianity, and averred that he had come to do them good, and to tell ihem how to be happy ; asserting that, unless they listened to him and wor- shipped the Good Spirit in the manner he pointed out, they could never, at death, reach that happy country into which good people alone find admittance. One of the chiefs upon this arose and made the following reply : " My white brother is a stranger to us. He talks bad of us, and he talks bad of his own people. "He does this because he is ignorant. He thinks my people, like his, are wicked. Thus far he is wrong ! " Who were they that killed the very good man of whom he tells us ? None of them were red men ! " The red man will die for good men, who are his friends ; — he will not kill them ! " Let my pale-face brother talk to the white man — his own people — they are very bad. He says, he would do us good! He does no good to chide us and say we are very bad. " True we are bad ; and were we bad as the pale-faces it would become us to listen to him ! " Would my brother do us good ? Then, let him tell us how to make powder and we will believe in the sincerity of his professions ; — but let him not belie us by saying we are bad like the pale-faces !" These Indians rarely kill the women and children of an enemy when in their power, and, in this particular, they show themselves unlike most of the wild tribes found on the American continent. They are a brave and noble people, prosecuting their endless hostilities against the Sioux and Blackfeet, (the only nations with whom they are at variance,) not so much to gratify an innate love for war, as from a just hatred of the meanness of those they war against. In the summer of 1842, a war-party of some two hundred Crows inva- ded the Sioux countr}^ by way of Laramie pass, and penetrated as far as Fort Platte, and beyond, in pursuit of their enemy. A few miles above the Fort, having met with a lone French engage, who was rather green in all that pertains to Indians as well as some other things, they began by signs to enquire of him the whereabouts of the La- cotas, (the sign for them being a transverse pass of the right front-finger across the throat.) The poor Frenchman, mistaking this for the avowed intention of cutting his throat, commenced bellowing a la calf, accompanying the music by an industrious appliance of crosses in double-quick time — not forgetting to make use of sundry most earnest invocations of the blessed Virgin to gra- ciously vouchsafe to him deliverance from impending danger. The Indians, perceiving his strange conduct to be the result of fear, felt disposed to have a little fun at his expense; so, mounting him upon ahorse, they bound his hands and i'eet and guarded him to a post of the Ameri can Fur Company as a j.ri; oiiei-. 176 PLAINS OF LARAMIE. The Fort gates being closed against them, they demanded admittance on the plea of wishing to trade. " What would you buy ?" asked the commandant. « Tobacco." " What have you brought to pay for it ?" " A white man." " A white man ?" exclaimed the former; " at what price?" " Oh, he is not worth much. A plug of tobacco is his full value !" con- tinued the warriors. The commandant now bogan to understand the joke; and, on recognizing the prisoner as an employee of the other Fort, he told them they might possibly find a market for him at the next post, but for his own part he was not disposed to purchase. The Indians then paraded around the Fort, and, after saluting its in- mates with three deafening whoops, proceeded at full charge towards Fort Platte. When arrived, having prostrated two scaffolds of dead Sioux by the way, they informed the person in charge, that they had brought back one of his men, and claimed from him a plug of tobacco for their trouble. The circumstances attending this request were of so comical a nature, the commandant felt disposed to humor the joke, and gave the tobacco, upon which they immediately left in pursuit of their enemies. Having remained prisoners to the hospitality of these Indians for two days and a half, we were at length permitted again to resume our journey. Following the creek downwards for the two days next succeeding, and then bearing to the left, after a ride of some twelve miles, we struck Lara- mie river at a point which presented broad bottoms upon each side v\ ith an abundance of timber; here we remained encamped till the subsequent day. In journeying thus far, we passed over a sufficient extent of this broad expanse to give a general descriptioji of it, from personal observation coup- led with information derived from others more experienced. The Plains of Laramie are bounded north and east by the Black Hills, south by a ridge of naked elevations, (composed of soft, arenaceous rock and terrene limestone, embedded in marl and white clay, sterile and almost entirely destitute of vegetation,) and west by the Medicine Bow Moun- tain.s. This section includes an area one hundred and sixty miles long by seventy broad. The northern portion of it is a high plateau, almost destitute of springs or sircanis of water, having a mixed soil of clay and sand, producing the grass and other peculiarities incident to the grand prairies. Westerly, it is composed of red sand and gravel, tolerably ll^rtile and abundant in rocky fragments. The southern portion is watered by a number of streams that rise in the Medicine Bow Mountains and flow eastward ; some of them pouring their waters into Laramie river, and others losing themselves in the sand. Towards the southwestern extremity, at the base of a lofty, isolated mountain, is a salt lake of considerable dimensions. Several other lakes INCIDENTAL REMARKS. 177 are also found adjacent to the Medicine Bow Mountains, whose waters are strongly impregnated with mineral salts. In numerous places the surface, for small distances, is entirely naked and whitened with saline efflorescences, that vie in their appearance with the unspotted purity of fresh-fallen snow. The Laramie river * traces its way through the whole extent, — rising in the southern extremity of the Medicine Bow Mountains and in the desolate highlands that form the dividing ridge between its own and the waters of Cache a la Poudre, and, after flowing a distance of some three hundred miles, discharges itself into the Platte. Upon this river and its branches are many beautiful bottoms of rich al- luvial soil, well adapted to cultivation, varying from five to ten miles in length, and from two to five in breadth. These bottoms are to some ex- tent well supplied with timber, consisting of ash, elm, cottonwood, box- elder, and willow, while the adjacent mountains and hills afford pine, cedar, and balsam. Of the various kinds of wild fruits and berries are found cherries, plums, currants, gooseberries, service-berries, buffalo-berries, and some few grapes ; among its vegetables and roots are the bread-root, pomme blanc, onions, and commote. Its prevailing rock is sandstone, (gray micaceous, brown argillaceous, red granitic, and ferruginous,) limestone, (siliceous, testaceous, fossilifer- ous, and terrene,) and red granite, with various conglomerates and heavy boulders of fragmentary and transition rock. Among the mineral productions incident to this region are salt, sulphur, soda, magnesia, nitre, alum, coal, iron, copper, and gold, (the latter only in small quantities.) Among its game is embraced nearly every variety found in countries adjacent to the mountains. The high prairies skirting the tributaries of the Laramie, though favored with many valleys of fertile soil, are fit only for grazing purposes, on ac- count of their general aridity and scarcity of water ; a fault, by the ^vay, too common with a large proportion of that vast extent of territory irom the neighborhood of our western frontiers almost to the very shores of the Pacific. * This river received its present name from one Joseph Laramie, a French irap per, who was killed near its mouth, several years since, by the Indians. 17« CHAPTER XVI. Sibille's-hole. — Novel bitters. — Chugwater. — Gold. — Curiosity. — Affairs at the Fort — AmusemenLs. — Gambling among squaws, and games played. — Squaw dresses, and riding fashion.— Items of interest to the curious, proving the intercourse of the ancient Romans with the people of this continent. On resuming our course, we soon after struck into a lodge-trail leading to the Platte by way of Sibille's creek ; — following this we travelled over an undulating and sandy prairie for about ten miles, and came to a chain of rugged mountains, bearing from north to south, through which we pas- sed, by a tedious and circuitous route, for a considerable distance, winding among rocks and narrow defiles of naked hills, till we were finally ushered into a beautiful opening facing the east, known as Sibille's-hole. This valley is situated at the confluence of two small streams, heading in the adjoining mountains, that unite to form Sibille's creek. It is shut in upon three sides by lofty ridges, many hundred feet high, consisting of immense piles of earthy limestone and marl, whose rough, naked sides, ornamented with occasional dwarf-pines, cedars, or fruit-bear- ing shrubs, present a wild and romantic scenery. The valley is four or five miles in length and of variable width, with a strong, black soil, affording a goodly supply of timber. The season was further advanced in this than in any other place we had yet visited. Several specimens of wild flowers were in full bloom, belading the soft air with their sweetest odors. The grass too had attained a height of some three inches, and furnished a most sumptuous entertainment for our jaded animals, which they were nowise backward to accept. Wishing to afford them an opportunity to recruit their strength, we re- mained encamped the two following days. During the interval we were successful in killing two very fat bulls, and were thus enabled to renew the series of feasting which had graced the greater part of our journey. I here became for the first time acquainted with a kind of beverage very common among mountaineers. The article alluded to may with much pro- priety be termed " bitters," as the reader will readily acknowledge on learn- ing the nature of its principal ingredient. It is prepared by the following simple process, viz : with one pint of water mix one-fourth gill of biiflulo-gall; and you will then have before you a wholesome and exhilarating drink. To a stomach unaccustomed to its use it may at first create a slightly noisome sensation, like the inceptive effects of an emetic; and, to ono CHUGWATER. 179 strongly bilious, it might cause vomiting ; — but, on the second or third trial, the stomach attains a taste for it, and receives it with no inconsiderable relish. Upon the whole system its effects are beneficial. As a stimulent, it braces the nerves without producing a corresponding relaxation on the ces- sation of its influence ; it also tends to restore an impared appetite and in- vigorate the digestive powers. As a sanative, it tends to make sound an irritated and ulcerated stomach, reclaiming it to a healthful and lively tone, and thus striking an effective blow at that most prolific source of so large a majority of the diseases common to civilzed life. From what I have seen of its results, I consider it one of the most inno- cent and useful medicines in cases of dyspepsy, and will hazard the further opinion, that, were those laboring under the wasting influences of this dis- ease to drink gall-hitters and confine themselves exclusively to the use of some one kind of diet, (animal food always preferable,) thousands who are now pining away by piecemeal, would be restored to perfect soundness, and snatched from the very threshold of a certain ^ra us which yawns to receive them! Resuming our course, we continued down SibilUs creek to its junction with the Laramie ; then, following the course of that river, in the afternoon of the third day we arrived at Fort Platte, after an absence of nearly two months, — having travelled, in the interval, a distance of more than five hundred miles. To give a general description of the country passed over during the concluding part of our journey, would seem too much like a recapitulation of previous remarks. Our observations in reference to the river and creek bottoms, may be again correctly applied ; as may, also, those relative to the timber, and the geological character of the adjoining prairies. Several miles above the Fort we crossed the Chugwater, a large affluent of the Laramie, from the right. This creek takes its rise in a wild and desolate section of the Black Hills, near the head of Horse creek. Thirty miles or more of its way is traced through a dreary wilder- v^ess of rock, sand, and clay, almost entirely devoid of vegetation. This region, it is said, affords gold ; and, indeed, I have received fre- quent assurances that that valuable metal has been procured, in small par- ticles, from among the sand of the creek-bed. This region also claims many natural curiosities, of which I may take occasion to speak more particularly hereafter ; — one, however, situated upon Chugwater, here seems more appropriately to demand a passing notice. It consists of a columnar elevation of sandstone and marl, towering aloft to the height of several hundred feet, like the lone chimney of some razed mansion, — standing as the melancholy monument of the ruins tliat surround it. This singular pile of rock and earth is nearly of a quadrangular form, quite regular in its structure, and compares vcrv nearly with the " Ch»in» 180 FEMALE GAMBLERS. ney " below Scot's Bluff, in its general outlines. It stands within a short distance of the east bank of the Chug^atcr, and gives the creek its present name.* Our arrival at the Fort dated the 26th of April. The boat being com- pleted, all things, save the spring rise, were in readiness for the intended voyage. This craft was put together in regular ship-shape, and finished in a workman-like manner. She measured litty feet keel by tliirteen beam, and, without her lading, drew but an inch and a half of water. Her intended burthen was between two and three tons. While admiring her beauty and symetry, little did I think of the sufferings in store for me with her hardy crew. Several important changes had taken place during onr absence. The Fort with its fixtures now claimed different owners, and was occupied by the men of two companies besides our own. This swelled the present number to some forty or fifty, and aflfbrded quite a lively scene. Now was an interval of leisure to all hands, and the time, unemployed in eating and sleeping, was passed in story-telling, ball-playing, foot-racing, target-shooting, or other like amusements. Several, forming themselves into a club for forensic debate, secured a prolific source of entertainment, for the time being. A partner in one of the trading firms, whose men were now stationed at the Fort, made him- self quite conspicuous as a participator in these discussions. He was very self-important and conceited, and not a little ignorant withal, and with regard to temperance, being uniformly about " three sheets in the wind," and the other Ji uttering, his spoutings were an ex- haustless fund of laujrhter. At his request, in order to render the exercises more spirited, the merits of the arguments presented were decided upon by a committee of three, and the speakers decided against, sentenced to liquorize the club. The treating, however, was always on one side ; for, as the whole busi- ness was an afiair of sport, the committee of arbitration generally had this primary object in view while pronouncing their decisions. When these were averse to our orator, he of course paid the forfeit as an affair of debt ; and when favorable to him, he was equally prompt in preferring a commou treat, exultiitory upon his fancied success. My own part in this performance was that of a mere looker-on, but it required of one more than my usual self-mastery, to retain his gravity under the potent influences of so ludicrous an exhibition. Other matters of interest, however, occurred at this time, and, as they tend to throw some light upon Indian habits and customs, perhaps the reader will not look upon it as altogether out of place for me to notice them. * The word " Chug " impUes chimney ; of the derivatioa of the term, howerer, I am ignorant. SQUAW FASHIONS. 181 • ^*0 <^«^»^>^ At the two Forts in this neighborhood were some ten or twelve squaws, married to the traders and engages of the different fur companies. These ladies vere in the habit of meeting, occasionally, for gambling purposes. In this \hey acted as systematically as the most experienced black legs of a Mississippi steamboat; if they failed to play as high, it was only for t.^e lack of raoans. Ball-pUying was one of the games upon which heavy bets were made. The instrument used in this amusement consisted of two globular forms, about two 'jiches each in diameter, which were attached by a short string. The play-giound was the open prairie in front of the Fort, and embraced an area of neaily a mile in extent. As the initiatory step, each party, composed of equal numbers, selected an equal amoant of valuables, consisting of beads, scarlet, vermilion, rings, awls, shells, &.c., which were placed in two piles about half a mile apart, and equi-distam between them was placed the ball. Each gamesrress, armed with her club, then repaired to the spot, and the opposing parties arrayed tlicm.-elves, the one facing the other with the ball between them. At a given signal they all strike — the one party striving to propel it towards its own valuable?, and the other to force it in a contrary direction. The party pro- pelling it to its own pile, wins, and becomes entitled to both. As success in this game depends more upon fleetness of foot than skill in striking, a large purty of squaws, thus engaged, opens to the beholder a rich scene of amusement. Another game is still more extensively practised among them. This is somewhat upon the principle of dice, though different in its details. Six plum-stones, smoothly polished, and marked with various parallel, triangular, and transverse lines, are thrown loosely into a small, plate-like basket, around which the players are seated with their stores of trin- kets. The leader then receives the basket in one hand, and, briskly mov- ing it to change the position of the dice, suddenly strikes it upon the ground, tossing the plum-stones from their places and catching them in their descent. The amount won depends upon the number of triangular and transverse lines left uppermost. The loser, having paid the forfeit, next takes the basket and describes the same movements, receives her winnings in like manner, and returns it to her opponent, — and so on alternately. Much cheating and trickery are practised in this game. The game of hand, for a description of which the reader is referred to a previous marginal note, is also a favorite play with squaws as well as men. Large parties of both sexes not unfrequently engage in this amusement, and many a poor Indian loses his all by the operation. Speaking of squaws reminds me of not having previously described their dress and appearance. The dress of a squaw is scarcely less simple than that of an Indian, Two pieces of skin, sewed together in a bag-like form, (of sufficient size to envelope the body from neck to knee, leaving an aperture for the former 16 182 INTERESTING TO ANTIQUARIANS. with the arms,) constitute her gown, which is completed by two other pieces of skin sewed from neck to waist so as to fall loosely upon the arms as far as the elbow ; then, with leggins of thin deer or antelooe skin, girni>h?(l moccasins, and a painted robe, you have before you the full rirr of a mountain squaw. Soin3 of the younger ones, however, flaunt dresses quite tasteflilly orna- mentjJ, with lull capes and fringe-works, garnished with beads x-ud porcu- pine-quills, that present a wild, fantastic appearance, not altogetiier es- tranor; 1 to beauty. A f-qiiaw prides herself much upon the number of rings in ler ears and upon her ringers, as well as the taste displayed in plaiting her hair and beauti lying her face. Women, in savage alike with civilized life, are vested wiJi a good sup- ply of pride and vanity in their composition, — all, fond of s*iow and gaudy equipaga. But the mountain squaw, next to ornaments, dsplays the most vanity in the gay caparison of her riding horse, and the splendid trappings of his saddle. Both of them are fancifully garnished witii beads and uaint, and bestrung with various trinkets, that impart a tinklng sound, as they strike each other at every movement, and fill the rider's ears with ttiat wild and simple music so consonant to her feelings and thoughts. Men and women practise the same mode of ridi:ig, (astride,) and a squaw is as much at home on horseback as the most experienced cavalier. This fashion is properly considered unbecoming for ladies of civilized countries ; yet, improper as it may seem, it is quite common with the ladies of New Mexico. As my subsequent travels in the countries bordering upon the Rocky Mountains preclude the opportunity of speaking connectedly of the Sioux nation, I cannot forego the present occasion for presenting to the curious, some few items relative to the language of these Indians, that tend to shed no small amount of light upon the ancient history of the American conti- nent. There are several remarkable peculiarities in the Sioux language, that cannot fail to prove intere'sting and satisfactory, so far as they go, to all lovers of antiquarian research. The rirst of these consists in the striking similarity observable in its general structure to that of the ancient Romans, when the two are care- fully compared with each other. In regard to the arrangement of words and the construction of sen- tences, they are both governed by the same fixed laws of euphony, irre- spective oi' the relative position otherwise maintained by the different parts of spoech. It will be observed that the leading purpose of the speak- er of either language is, to avoid a harsh and inharmonious intermingling of words, such as would grate upon the ear when pronounced in an ab- rupt connection; and, by so doing, to give a smooth and musical turn to the expression of his ideas. The few brief sentences, hereto subjoined in the same order as they oc- cur in the original, accompanied by the translation of each w^ord as it ap- ^ars, will serve to illustrate this matter more fully : COMPARISON OF LANGUAGES. 183 LATIN. Invictum animi robur ostensit. Invincible of mind strength he displayed. Omnia delicarum instrumenta e All of delicacies the intruments from castris ejecit. camp he cast. Non amo nimium diligrentes. Not I love overmuch the careful. A mere glance at the foregoing will at once show the constructional eimilarity between the two ; and, to illustrate the proposition still farther, I here subjoin yet other proofs of a more important relationship : SIOUX. Tepe nea-tour toocta? Lodge your own where is it ? Mea warcliee muzarka nea-tour. I want gun your own. Kokepa warneche wecharcha ha. Afraid nothing the man is. Minewarka appello warktashne ha Medicine- water I say not good is. LATIN. Appello, (pres. ind., 1st per. sing.; inf. appellare,) I declare, I proclaim. Bestia, a wild beast. CcBca, uncertain^ ambiguous, confu- sed, rash. Cogor, one who collects, brings togeth- er, compels, forces, or heaps up. Mea, (mens, a, um,) of or belonging to me. Mena, a narrow sharp fish. Ne, (this when affixed to a word or a sentence gives it a negative signi- fication,) no, not. Papae, rare, excellent, wonderful. Pater, father. Pes, the foot. Taurus, a bull. Tepor, warmth. Tuor, (tui, tutus sum,) to look, to see. SIOUX. Appello, I declare, I proclaim, I iell^ I make known. Beta, a buffalo. Ceicha, bad, disorderly, unsound. Cogor, a maker of anything, a manu- facturer, one loho ^produces a thing by an ingenious arrangement cj materials. Mea, /, myself me. Mena, a knife. Ne, (this word is used precisely the same as in Latin, and has a similar meaning,) not. Papa, meat,Jlesh used for food. Pater, fire. Pea, the foot. Tau, (or tab,) a bull. Tepe, a lodge. Tula, (astonishment,) look! see there! I might pursue this comparison to a yet greater extent, were my know- ledge of Sioux sufficiently full and critical for the task, (for I have a firm confidence that many other similarities might be pointed out, quite as glar- ing in their character as any of the above ;) but, enough, I trust, has al- ready been said to fortify the position so largely warranted by the pre- mises, to wit : that in former ages the Romans maintained a foothold upon the American continent, and had intercourse with this nation, either by arms or by commerce. The argument drawn from the foregoing is still further strengthened, when we take into consideration the fact, that language is constantly vary- ing in its form, and changing the meaning and pronunciation of its words, as time progresses. To exemplify this more clearly and forcibly, let the reader compare the works of standard English authors of the present day with those of the like not more than five hundred years since, and he will readily acknowledge the palpable indications of progressive change. 184 THE ROMANS IN A3IERICA. If so short an inten'al has produced a transformation so bold in a written language, what might we look for in one spoken only ? But, an interval of three times five hundred years has passed since the Romans and the Sioux held intercourse with each other, and we yet find the general structure of the two languages strikingly similar, and several of their words identical in meaning and pronunciation ! And, though the latter observation fails in some cases, even this, so far from proving any- thing averse to the position before assumed, serves to strengthen it. The word j^ater, for instance, pronounced alike in both languages, dif- fers in signification ; being used in the one to imply father, in the other Jire. This apparent discrepancy of meaning may be explained in a few words. The Sioux are accustomed to venerate the sun as one of the more especial manifestations of the Divine Essence, who is regarded as the FATHER or creator of all things ; and it, being the great source of light and heat, is naturally looked upon as an immense body of fire. Thus, in tlie course of ages, the term became perverted in its meaning and applica- tion, and, instead of being used to express the sun, or Great Spirit, the father of all, it now only implies tlie simple element of fire, an emanation from the sun. So in relation to the Latin word tepor, warmth, and the Sioux word tepe, a lodge. The lodge is employed in winter to retain the heal within itself, and exclude the cold air; nor is it wonderful that, in the progress of years, the term iepor, or tepe, should become the only one by which a lodge is known. The word menu, is also pronounced the same in both, though different in its signification ; meaning, in Latin, a narrow sharp fish, and. in Sioux, a knife. Li explanation of this, I would barely refer to the similarity of shape between a knife and a narrow sharp fish. The relationship disclosed between these two languages is seemingly too close and significant to be attributed to mere chance or accident, and can be in no other way satisfactorily accounted for, than by admitting the correctness of the premises before quoted. But this position, curious as it may seem to some readers, and impreg- nable as it must doubtless prove, has other weapons to protect it at com- mand ; ahd, ere dismissing the subject, I will briefly notice some of them. It is by no means a conjecture of recent origin, that the ancient Romans did actually colonize portions of the American continent. The industri- ous researches of antiquarians have long since brought to light many items which prove and strengthen it, though none of them so tangible and obvi- ous as those previously noticed. Several obscure hints of the existence of extensive Roman colonies planted westward of the Pillars of Hercules, (doubtless alluding to the American continent,) have been detected in the writings of ancient authors yet axtant ; but still further proof is afiorded in the relics of temples, cities, roais, and fortified camps, long since discovered in Peru, Mexico, and the United States, which strongly savor of Roman origin. The ancient works at Marietta, Ohio, have been regarded, by not a few, as the offspring of Roman industry and military science, — and various other remains, that signalize the Mississippi valley, point quite plainly to this lation for a parentage. But a proof, still more conclusive than any yet ad- WE EMBARK. 185 duced, is afforded by ihe discovery of a genuine Roman coin, in the Stato of Missouri, several years since. Taking all these corroborative circumstances in connection, the fact that Roman colonies did exist, to some extent, upon this continent in past ages, must be regarded as placed beyond successful controversy. CHAPTER XVII. Singular exhibition of natural affection.— Embark for the States.— Scarcity of pro- visions and consequent hardship and suffering. — Extraordinary daring of wolves. — Difficulties of navigation. — Novel diet.— Fishing.— A fish story, and another to match it. — A bull story. — Hard aground and dismal situation. — Extreme exposure. — Cold, hungry, and wet. — Again afloat.— Re-supply of provisions.— Camp on fire. — A picture of Platte navigation.— Country north of river. — Adventure with a bull. — ladian benevolence. — Summary of hardships and deprivations. — Abandon voyage. Soon after our return, one of the hunters came in from a short excursion followed by a buffalo calf, which appeared as tame and docile as if always accustomed to the presence of man. This incident first brought to my knowledge a remarkable peculiarity in the nature of these animals, — viz: the strength of affection existing between the mother and her offspring. The buffalo will never desert her calf, except in cases of imminent danger, and then, never for a long time ; — she is certain to return promptly in search of it, even at the hazard of her own life. The calf, on the other hand, exhibits an equal, or rather superior, love for its mother. If she, to whom he owes his birth, falls a prey to the relentless hunter, he deserts her not, but lingers near her lifeless carcase, till the butcher-knife performs its office, and the reeking flesh belades the pack-horse ; — nor then, even, does he leave her. As the honored relics are borne away, he not unfrequently follows on, mournfully, regardless of aught else, as if saying, " Where thou goest let me go, and now thou art dead, I would live no longer." There is some- thing touchingly beautiful in such exhibitions of natural affection on the part of dumb brutes. May Ith. Availing ourselves of a slight rise of water, we embarked on our meditated voyage to the States. The boat was freighted with some sixty packs* of robes, and provisions for four weeks. A barge belonging to another company, also in readiness, started with us, and we all flattered ourselves with the hope of a speedy and pleasant trip. The two boats numbered a united crew of eleven men, — mine consist- ing of five, and that of our consort counted six. * A pack of robes generallv embraces ten skins, and weiglis about eighty pound*, j 16* 186 NOT TO BE ENVIED. Slipping cable, we glided midway of the stream, and gave a parting salute to the friends who lined the shore, accompanied by a loud hurra and waving of hats, deeply responded to by them, — and even tears coursed their way a down the dusky visages of our voyageurs, when mindful of the fate separating them — perhaps forever ! The crews now struck up a merry song, while the dripping oars, as they spurned the crystal waters, responded their time in measured strokes. As we passed swiftly along and were fast receding from within hailing distance of the Fort, an old mountaineer, who stood gazing upon us, ex- claimed, " Ah, boys ; you can sing now, but your tune will be altered ere- long !" This strange announcement, though a riddle at the time of its utterance, soon began to more than verify itself, and often did we repeat the remark, " Well, sure enough, our tune has changed." Moving along prettily during the day — sometimes floating with the cur- rent tiien again plying oars, — we reached the mouth of Horse creek ; and, passing on a short distance, lay to for the night. The day following we again pushed off; but, after proceeding ten or twelve miles, tho water became so shallow, we were compelled to lay by to await a further rise, and struck camp in a small grove of cottonwood upon the right bank of the Platte, a siiort distance above Scott's Blutf. Here we remained for some two weeks. The crew of our consort being poorly supplied with provisions, we divided our own with them, and, at the expiration of a j:ew days, were left entirely destitute. From this on, we were dependent solely upon such game as chance threw in our way, — sometimes starving for two or three days, and then feasting for a hke interval, upon the products of successful hunting. To us was a tedious lot, — there being no game in the country, save per- chance a few straggling bulls, and they rarely within less dist mce than ten or twelve miles. Our hunting excursions often led further than that, and when we were so fortunate as to kill, the proceeds were borne upon our Dacks to camp. We became so accustomed to packing in this manner, it was thought no extra burthen for an individual to carry upwards of a hundred pounds of fresh meat at a single load, some ten or twelve successive miles, over an open, sandy prairie, and beneath the scorching rays of an almost vertical sun. So far from regarding it a task, we esteemed it a pleasure, and were glad to appjase the cravings of appetite even at so small a sacrifice of comfort and convenience. The reason for the scarcity of all kinds of game in the vicinity of the river at this time, was tlie recent burning of the prairie upon both sides, for many miles back, leaving not even the vestige of vegetation for the subsistence of any graminivorous animals. This we found to be the case nearly the entire distance to the forks. During the latter part of our stay at this camp, it rained almost inces- santly ; we also encountered a severe snow storm. The winds were usually high, and frequently blew with hurricane-vio- lence. FISH STORIES. 187 A pack of hungry wolves, attracted by the scent of camp, were our regular nocturnal visitors, and proved a constant source of annoyance. On one occasion they carried off a bake-kettle to a distance of several hundred yards ; — at another time, they took away a tin-pan, which we never after- wards recovered ; — and, stranger yet, one night these piratical pests stole a fur cap from off my head while I was sleeping, and in the morning, after a diligent search, no trace of it could be found. The river having slightly risen, we again loosed cable, and, after toiling all day, and tugging with might and main, by hand-spikes and levers, — twisting, screwing, and lifting, now in water up to our necks, and now on dry sand-bars, we succeeded in dragging, or rather carrying, our craft for a distance of about five miles, and again lay oy for four succeeding days to await a still further rise. Upon the opposite side of the river was a bald-eagle's nest, with two half- grown fledgelings. One of our party, ascending the tree, captured the young ones, and we had a fine meal from their carcases. A wood-duck's nest, containing some twelve eggs, near by, afforded a seasonable repast, — and, in hunting for game, we came upon the nest of a wild goose, as well as those of numerous ravens among the neighboring cottonwoods and wil- lows, which we subjected to such forced contributions as appetite demanded. A portion of the interval was employed in fishing, but with poor success, the fish of the Platte being nearly all of them small, and not very plentiful even, at that. An old Franco-C'anadian, of our crew, here favored us with, perhaps, a little the biggest fish s;ory of any told at the present day. He had been down the Missouri on several occasions in boats connected with the fur trade. On one of these voyages, while in the act of reacliing over the boat-side for a drink of water, he dropped his cup. which imme- diately sank to the bottom of the river and was lost. Three years afterwards he again passed the same place, with hooks and lines attached to the boat-stern for the purpose of catching fish as he glided along. A large cat-fish, attracted by the tempting bait borne upon the hook, greedily swallowed it, and, in a trice, found himself translated to a new and stranije element. The creature was so heavy, it took two men to pull him into tlie boat, whi e his gigantic proportions astonished all beholders. But the most surprising thing was revealed on opening him ; — there, snugly stowed away in one corner of the monster's capacious maw, repo- sed die identical cup our voyageur had lost, three years before, with his name and the date marked upon it ! " Pooh ! Gumbo," said an old sailor, " I can beat such stories as that, all day. " Why, fellow, on my last trip from Liverpool to New York, a shark followed the ship for a long time, picking up such bits of bread and meal as w^ere thrown into the sea. " Our steward was a very careless fellow, and, in shaking the table- cloth, he would frequently drop overboard the knives and forks and spoons, and received from the captain several floggings on that account. He was 188 BULLETS IN A BULL. even accused of stealing them, but strongly protested his innocence of the latter charge. " Among our passengers was an old whaleman, who, being very expert in the use of the harpoon, took it into his head one day to victimize the shark. After several ineffectual attempts, he finally succeeded in forcing his instrument through the monster's vitals, and drew the lifeless carcase alongside. " The piratical cruiser was so thundering big, it took eight men with tackles to raise it on board ; — it must have weighed at least sixteen hun- dred pounds ! The body of the greedy creature was then laid upon deck, and on opening it all were astonished ! What do you think was found, Gumbo ?" " Sacre sharp ! Certes me tink dey fine de spoon, de fork an de knife ' Him shark no follow de ship for nottin." " Well, boys, what do you all suppose was found ?" " Indeed, we could'nt say." "Guess," " The knives and spoons, of course.' " You are wrong, to a man." " What, in the name of reason, could it have been ? Do tell — we give it up." " Hang me, if you aint a bright set of fellows ! — Can't guess a thing so easy ? Why, if I must tell you — 'twas guts, — only guts — nothing in the world but guts .'" " Look here. Jack," said one of the listeners, advancing towards him hat in hand, " you can take this. We'll be quite likely to remember hereafter that fish generally carry their guts inside !" The old Frenchman looked rather crest-fallen at the curious manner in which his extraordinary fish story had been matched, — but felt little dis- posed to yield his laurels without an effort to retrieve them, — so, calling to aid his recollections of the marvellous, he again commenced. Several years ago, while in the employ of the American Fur Company, our hero and another man were sent expresses to a distant post. It was winter ; and they travelled on foot, depending for daily subsistence upon such game as chance brought in their way. Their course lay through an open and cheerless prairie, covered with snow, and the journey occupied nearly a month. Having been en route some five or six days, their ammunition began to fail in the item of lead, — and only two bullets were left. Their condition now became extremely desperate, as there was no way of procuring a re-supp!y,— and anticipated starvation stared them in the face. Determined to eat as long as the means of subsistence remained, their last balls were shot away in killing a buffalo bull. After furnishing them- selves from his carcase with a large supply of meat for present and future use, our hero proceeded to cut a few locks of hair from ofi" the creature's head, for the purpose of stuffing his moccasins. "Bor Dieu! Vat you tink me fine ? You no can tell all day ! Me no ask you guess. Bon Dieu ! c'etre admirable. Me fine forty ballas, in HOW WE SUFFERED. 189 he head. Me get 'em out. Sacre tonnerre ! den me had him sufficient la poudre and la ballas for de route ! No go hungry une leetil bit !" On the fifth day subsequent, we again launched forth into the stream, and after a series of most extraordinary exertions, (being obliged to Hghten our boat several times, by carrying its loading on shore, and reload. ng as often, thus to enable us to lift it over sand-bars.) we succeeded in getting it some three miles, and finally became safely moored in the middle of the river, from which it was impossible to extricate ourselves either by going backwards, forwards, or sidewise — with or without a cargo. Here we remained for three days, and experienced, during the interval, a continuous fall of rain and sleet, which rendered the weather dismal and our own situation disagreeable in the extreme. A cache of liquor having been made, fifteen or twenty miles distant, by a trader connected with our consort, a month or two previous, unforbid- ding as was the weather, the crew could not rest content until the hidden treasure was among them. Improving the opportunity presented by a slight suspension of the storm, one morning two of them started to procure it. Soon after it commenced snowing and raining, accompanied by a fierce, cutting win<' and all the withering bleakness of a winter's blast. Still keeping on, however, they obtained the cache, and returned with it towards the boat. But night shut in upon them by the way, and a thrice dreary night it was. Being too drunk to navigate, they lo-t their course and were forced to camp in the open prairie, without wood or aught else of which to build a fire, or even a robe to cover or a rock to shelter them from the chill wind and peltings of the pitiless storm. Half-frozen with cold and wet to the skin, they lay upon the muddy ground and passed the interval, not in sleep, but in a state of drunken stupor, produced by inordinate draughts upon the contents of their keg. On the next morning they reached the boat, — a beautiful looking couple, as might well be supposed! Covered with mud from head to foot, their clothes were wringing wet, and their faces bloated and swollen almost to twice their natural size. So complete was the transformation, they were scarcely recognizable as the same persons. But, regardless of hardship and suffering, they stuck to the liquor-keg and brought it with ihem as proof of their triumph. And now commenced a scene of drunken revelry, which, despite ray eflbrts to prevent it. soon communicated itself to both crews, and continued without intermission till the stock on hand was exhausted. The lack of a fire by which to warm ourselves, contributed materially to the misery of our present condition; there being no wood procurable for that purpose within five or six miles of either shore, and having none on board, we were compelled to endure the dreary interval as best we could. But another evil came pressing upon our already heavy load through the entire exhaustion of provisions, and the last of our stay was made twice forlorn by cold and fasting. 190 PICTURE OF THE PLATTE. The gloomy reality of this situation may be thus briefly summed up ; — we were fast aground in the middle of a river, three-fourths of a mile from either shore, confined to the narrow limits of a few feet, exposed to the merciless peltings of a chill storm of rain and sleet, with only a thin lodge skin to shelter us, without fire to warm or dry ourselves by, and, worse than all, destitute of the means of appeasing the gnawings of hun- ger. But, forbidding as the picture may seem, it proved only the commence- ment of a long series of suflTering and deprivation, more intensely dread- ful in its nature, that was yet held in reserve for us. On the forenoon of the fourth day the storm abated, and, favored with a slight rise of water, by dint of extraordinary effort we finally succeeded in getting afloat, and gained the right shore after pulling our craft over sand- bars for a distance of two miles. All hands now turned out in search of game, one of whom returned, towards night with an antelope, providing us with a needful supply of food for the time being. The next day, forcing our craft onward for six or eight miles, we brouglit to upon the left shore, where, after a short excursion among the hills, two other antelope v^^ere brought in, which furnished us with a fur- ther supply of provisions. The day following we continued our voyage till towards noon, when a high wind compelled us again to lay by under the lee of a small island. Here, towards night, having spread our robes near the camp fire, while all hands were busy at the boat, a sudden gust of wind bore the sparks among the dry grass, and in an instant the whole island was one sheet of flame ! robes, blankets, and all, were almost entirely destroyed, notwith- standing our prompt efTorts to save them. Continuing on, the next morning we forced our boat, or rather carried it, down stream for about fifteen miles, — wading the river for nearly the whole distance. Our mode of voyaging was pretty much the same, each day of its con tinuance. Sailing v/as out of the question. Not unfrequcntiy we were obliged to unload five or six times in the course of a few hours, in order to lift the boat over high sand-bars, — carrying its cargo upon our backs through the water a half-mile or moro, to some dry place of deposit for the mean time ; then returning it in the like tiresome manner, — now in water up to our arm-pits, — then scarcely enough to cover the sand of the river bed. As for a channel there was none, or rather, there were so many we were at a continual loss wliich to choose. Now, gliding along merrily for a mile or two, we are brought to a halt by the water scattering over a broad bed, and find ourselves snugly *' pocketed,''^ with no other means of extrication than by backing out ; then, wading against a swift current, we retrace our steps for a like distance, and try another chute, perhaps with no better success ; — then, again, con- veying our landing to the nearest point of land, by means of hand-spikes and levers, (requiring an exercise of the utmost strength,) we force our HARD FATE. 191 empty craft over the shoals, and again load it, perhaps, to re-act the same scene in a brief interval. Sometimes we were obliged to travel (for such navigation as this was tenfold worse than travelling) four of five miles to make one mile headway. By crossing and re-crossing a river varying in width from one to two miles — first advancing, then retreating ; now taking to the right, then to the left ; now transverse, and then oblique, we wasted our time, strength, and pa- tience, in labor to little or no purpuse. No one, unless practically experi- enced, can have a correct idea of the beauties of such a voyage. Towards night, attracted by the appearance of a couple of bulls among the sand-hills, we brought to upon the left shore, and succeeded in killing one of them. A high wind the day following kept us encamped and afforded another opportunity for hunting. Improving the occasion to explore the country northward, and obtain, if possible, some correct conception of its general character, a jaunt of four or five miles, over the bottom of rich alluvial soil skirting the river, ushered me into a high rolling prairie, partaking of the mixed nature of the garden and desert. The hills, in many places, were piles of sand or sun-baked clay, with scarcely a shrub or spire of grass to hide their nude deformity, while the space between them sported a rich soil and luxuriant vegetation, and was clothed in the verdure and loveliness of spring, and adorned with blushing wild-flowers in full bloom Further on were yet higher summits, surmounted by pines and cedars, raising their heads in stately grandeur far above the sweet valleys at their feet. Taken together, the scenery was not only romantic and picturesque, but bewitching in its beauty and repulsive in its deformity. The prevailing rock was a dark, ferruginous sandstone, and argillaceous limestone, interspersed with conglomerates of various kinds. Proceeding to a distance of about fifteen miles from the river, in hopes of finding game, I encountered nothing save a solitary band of wild horses, that fled across the sand-hills with the fleetness of the wind on my appear- ance, after which I returned to the boat much fatio;ued from the excursion. Our other hunters had also returned ; but neither of them with better success than myself. The subsequent morning we again renewed our voyage. Soon after, an old bull presenting himself upon the river bank, we landed, and one of the crew approached him from the water-edge. The old fellow, unconscious of the danger which threatened, permitted the hunter to advance till within three or four yards of him. The sharp crack of a rifle-shot first awoke him to a sense of his situation, when, reeling, he plunged headlong from the steep bank into the river. Our marksman, in an effort to dodge 'he falling beast, tumbled backwards into swimming wa- ter— lost his gun, and came very near being drowned. The bull made halt at a sand-bar, near by, and received nineteen shots in his carcase before he could be dispatched. 192 IMPOSSIBLE TO PROCEED. When killed, his hams were found half eaten by wolves, and his whole body otherwise so badly mangled we left it unbutchered. In the afternoon, having pursued our way eight or ten miles, we lay by for the night. A high wind and rain during the three succeeding days prevented further progress, and in the interval our provisions became again exhausted. While here, observing two Indians in the distance, running buffalo, 1 took three men and started to meet them. On coming up, we found an old Indian with his son engaged in butchering. Announcing the object of my visit to be the procurement of meat, they listened without a reply, but con- tinued their operations, — laying the selections in two separate heaps. When finished, the old man led up his horse, and, pointing to an assorted pile, told me it was mine, and the animal also should be at my service to convey it to camp. His village, he remarked, was a long distance over the hills, on the watch for Pawnees, and though in a directly opposite course from us, he loved the white man and would give him meat and a horse to carry it. Accepting the offer of the generous-hearted savage, I took the hea\'y- laden horse and returned to the boat, — the owner following to regain his beast. When arrived, he hinted at no remumeration for his kindness, and mounting his horse, would have left for his village. Where will you find among civilized people men thus generous and obliging? Such cases are indeed rare. The savage here proved himself of more noble principles than nineteen-twentieths of his enlightened and christianized brethren, whose religion teaches them to love their neighbor as themselves, and do to others as they would like to be done unto ! Unwilling that such disinterested kindness should go unrewarded, I made the old man some trifling presents, which he accepted with great pleasure, and, pressing his hand to his breast, exclaimed : " Chanta-ma w^arstaello !" (my heart is good !) and, shaking hands with the company, put whip to his horse and was soon out of sight. It is useless to notice the particular progress of each day, or to state how many times we unloaded in the interim — how often we crossed the river, oi how far we carried our boat by main strength ; these things have been already laid before the reader sufficiently to give him some faint idea of the intolerable hardsiiips and sufferings we w^ere compelled to undergo. Each day was but a rej^ctiticn of the toils and struggles of the preceding one. Neither would it be interesting to state the especial half-day, day, or suc- cessive days we went without eating, meanwhile ; suffice it to say, the morning of tJit lOlh of June found usat the mouth of a small creek upon the right shore, about two hundred miles below the Fort, — having been thirty-five days en barqueite, and without eating for full one third of that time ! The expected spring rise had failed, and the river was very low and still falling, so that there was no possible chance of conveying our cargo to the States, as the most difficult part of the voyage lay yet before us. I ac- cordingly abandoned all thoughts of the latter, and adopted such other ar- rangements as my judgment suggested upon the premises. 193 CHAPTER XVIII. Hunting excursion. — Thirst more painful than hunger. — Geological observations — Mournful casualty. — Sad scene of sepulture. — Melancholy night. — Voyage in dn empty boat. — Ruins of a Pawnee village at Cedar Bluff.— Plover creek. Cacue Grove. — Thousand Islands. — Abandon boat. — Exploring company. — A horrible situ- ation.— Agony to torment. — Pawnee village. — Exemplary benevolence of an Indian chief. — 31iserable fourth ot July. — Four days starvation. — Arri^al at Council Bluff — Proceed to Independence. For two days preceding we had been without oating-, and our first effort was to procure a re-supply of provisions. Both crews started out with their rifles in pursuit of game, tliough not the foot-prmt of any living crea- ture appeared to excite even the faintest hope of success. Still, how^ever, we kept on, determined not to despair so long as the use of legs remained to us. Having traveiied some fifteen miles, chance threw in our way a doe-elk with her fawn, which the unerring aim of a rifie speedily laid dead before us. Soon as opened, the liver disappeared at the demands of voracious ap- petites, and next to it the marrow bones and kidneys. The process of cooKing was then commenced over a fire of bois de vachCy which was continued till each stomach was abundantly satisfied. But, here another enemy assumed the place of hunger, and one far more painful in its nature. There was not a drop of water to allay our thirst short of the river, fitteen miles distant, — over an open sand-prairie and beneath the scorching rays of a vertical sun. I can endure hunger for many days in succession without experiencing any very painful sensations, — I can lie down and forget it in the sweet un- consciousness of sleep, or feast my imagination upon the rJc'n-spread tables of dreams ; — but not so with thirst. It cannot be forgi-tten, sleeping or waking, while existence is retained. It will make itself known and felt ! It will parch your tongue and burn your throat, despite your utmost endeavors to thrust it from memory ! Each one shouldering his burden from the carcase, we took up our line of march for the boat, where, arriving in four or five hours subsequently, we quenched our burning thirst in the water of the thrice welcome stream. The country, travelled over during this excursion, for the first ten or twelve miles, was a level plain, presenting a thin vegetable mould with a luxuriant growth of grass and herbage, upon a substratum of sand and gravel. The remainder of our route led through a ridge of hills, many of them naked, others clothed with grass and ornamented with pines ; — between the tumuli were many beautiful vallons, gorgeously decked with wild-flowers in full bloom, and arrayed in mantles of living green; while thick clusters of fruit-bearing trees and shrubs attested the general fecundity and lent their auchantment to the scene. » 17 194 MOURNFUL CASUALTY. Beyond this a gentle acclivity, that led to the high prairies, spread before the beholder a wilderness of verdure, without one moving object to relieve its cheerless monotony. The boats were unloaded on our return and their contents placed in a compact pile upon shore, over which were spread two thicknesses of iucl;^e- skin, to protect it from the weather. Other necessary arrangements were soon completed. Two men being selected to remain with the robjs, two were dispatched to the Fort, while the remainder with myself were to make our way to the States, if possible, in an empty boat. Everytliing was put in order for departure the next morning, and a gloomy feeling pervaded each mind as the hour approached that was to separate a band so closely united by mutual sufferings, toil, and depriva- tion. Those selected to accompany me were congratulating themselves on the prospect of soon reaching the termination of their arduous and eventful expedition, among the friends and acquaintances of other days ; and n me were more happy in the anticipation of this hoped for finale, than was a lively French youth, named Prudom. Notwithstanding the general tendency of circumstances was to produce feelings of melancholy, his voice rang loud in announcing the varied plans of amusement and pleasure, that were to be realized upon his arrival at home. For this d?iy, so far at least, he had been the petit garo^on of the company ; and, it was frequently remarked, as his quaint expressions and sallies of wit burst upon the ear, " What in the world is the matter with Prudom ? His good nature and kindness of disposition had won the esteem of all acquainted with him, while his cheerfulness and fortitude at all times con- tributed much to render tolerable the dreariness of our forlorn condition. A little before night, the company indulged in a general cleansing, ac- companied by a shave and change of clothes. Prudom was among the number, for whom an intimate friend officiated as barber ; — the operation finished, he jokingly remarked : " Well, Tom, I suppose this is the last time you'll ever shave me !" Little did the poor fellow think how soon his words were to be verified. Seizing his rifle he stepped on board the boat, and, stooping to lay it by, exclaimed, " Here's the game !" The words were scarcely uttered, when the gun-lock, coming in sudden contact with the boat-side, discharged the piece and shot him through tiie heart ! He staggered, faltering forth " Mon Dieu !" and fell dead at my feet !" A thrill of horror struck every nerve on witnessinir this tragical event. If we had previously felt melancholy, we now felt dismal and wobegone. He, who five minutes since was the very soul of cheerfulness and mirth, now lay a liRdess corpse ! How true it is, we " know not what a day or an hour may bring forth." The sun was just setting as we commenced digging a grave in which lo deposite all that remained of our friend and companion. now WE FARED. 195 I The task was a sad one, and as tedious as it was sorrowful. We had neither shovel nor pick-axe, and were compelled to dig it with our butcher knives and hands. The pale-moon, new-risen, shed her sombre light over tlie dismal realms of Solitude, and an intervening cloud cast its pall-like shaddow upon the scene of sepulture, as we laid low the corse in mother dust. No shroud covered — no useless coffin enclosed it, — a grave was the only gift williin the power of friendship to bestow! A thin coating of earth succeeded t)y a layer of stones and drift-wood, and that again by another earth-coat, was Its covering, — then, the mournful task was done, — a tear dropt to the mem- ory of poor Prudom, and his body left to slumber in its narrow prison-house, till the sound of the last trump shall wake the dead to judgment.* That night to us was a more painful one than any we had passed. A feeling of superstitious awe, mingled with thrilling sensations of grief and thoughts of our own miserable condition, occupied each mind and usurped the soothing powers of sleep. The dolesome bowlings of the prairie-wolf, and hootings of the midnight owl, borne upon the listening air, kept sad condolence with our musings, and gave increased momen- tum to the pressure that crushed our spirits. Who could sleep, amid such scenes and surrounded by such circumstances ] The rising sun of the morrow brought the hour of separation, and ex- hibited upon every face the same downcast look, prefiguring the inward- workings of a mind absorbed in the melancholy of its own thoughts. My party consisted of six, some of whom were selected from the crew of our consort. We all embarked in one boat, taking with us a small quantity of robes, (our own individual property,) and a portion of the pro- visions at carnp. Our voyage for a few days succeeding, was performed without much difficulty, except in the article of food — for, from this onward, till we finally reached the settlements, (an interval of twenty-eight days,) we were without eating full one half of the time ! Proceeding some thirty miles, we overtook the American Fur Com- pany's barges, three in number, the crews of which were struggling on in vain effort to reach the States. We glided past them with a loud huzza, and rallied the poor, toiling voyageurs, upon the futility of their exertions. Five or six days subsequently, wei were, in turn, overtaken by them ; — they, like ourselves, abandoning all hope of accomplishing the objects of their voyage, had left their freight at Ash creek, under guard — and, from that on, became our compagnons de voyage. The only game previous to reaching the forks of the Platte — a distance of some two hundred miles — was now and then an antelope, with a few straggling deer. Our subsistence, meanwhile, was principally upon ^^greens," and such roots as we had time and opportunity to gather. The country was pretty much of a uniform character, with that pre- viously described. The rich alluvion of the river bottom reposed upon a varied substratum of sand, marl, gravel, and clay. * On my return the enduing fall, I lenrned tliat the body of the unfortunate young man had been (Ji>iiilerred by wolves and devf)ured. 196 ON FOOT. I noticed several varieties of cJays in the river banks exposed by the attrition of the water — of these were the white, red, black, yellow, blue, and green. The white clay is much used by the Indians in cleaning skins and robes ; ail operation performed by mixing it with water till the compound as- sumes the color and about four times the consistency of milk, when it is applied to the surface of the article in hand ; the robe or skin thus wash- ed, alter being thoroughly dried in the sun, is rubbed until it becomes soft and pliable from friction, and the grosser particles of the preparation are loosened and removed. By this simple process skins assume a milky whiteness, and every spot of grease or dirt is made to disappear. All kinds of skin may be thus cleansed, and will readily attain an un- soiled purity, surpassing that originally possessed. Red, yellow, black, blue, or any other kind of clay, may be used for like purposes, and will readily impart to the cleansed articles their own color. In case a single application is insufficient, repeat the process for tw"o or three times, and there can be no possible failure in the result, provid- ed the clay is pure and good. Some twenty miles above the Forks, we passed a ridge of rocky hills exhibiting layers of limestone and sandstone in bold escarpments, that jutting into the river from the right, formed a high embankment covered with pines and cedars, known as Cedar Bluff. At the upper side of this point stood the remains of an old Pawnee village, which had been deserted by its inhabitants immediately after the bloody battle between that nation and the Sioux, at the mouth of Ash creek. The bottom, for several miles above, is rarely excelled in fertility. The islands are generally timbered, but the river banks upon both sides are almost entirely destitute of trees of any kind. From Cedar Bluff, in about eight miles, we came to the mouth of a large and beautiful creek, forcing its way, with a clear and rapid current, from the high rolling prairies to the north. This presented the appear- ance of being skirted with broad and fertile bottoms, well supplied with timber among the hills. Though vested with some importance on ac- count of its size and locality, it is as yet nameless — the abundance of plovers in its vicinity at the time of my passing, suggested the term ''Plo- ver creek" as a proper appellation. Five or six miles further on, we came to a large grove of cottonwood upon the right shore. Here, some five years since, a company of traders, while descending the Platte in boats loaded with furs, made cache of one hundred and sixty packs of robes, which they were compelled to leave on account of the low stage of the water. The luckless party, after enduring great hardships, arrived in the States ; but their cache was subsequently plundered by Pawnees. The confluence of the North and South Forks made but little perceptirble difference in the size of the river. From the junction, in five days' time we reached the vicinity of Grand Island, about two hundred and twenty miles from the nearest white settlements. EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 197 The high prairie upon the north shore, between the above points, is gen- erally sandy. The river presents numerous clusters of islands, most o*. which are heavily timbered and clothed with luxuriant growths of vegeta- tion. The soil is of a deep, sandy loam, and well adapted to cultivation I noticed upon them several choice wild flowers of rare beauty. We experienced great difficulty in forcing our boats through a large group, called the " Thousand Islands," that thickly studded the river lor some te.i miles, and, before clearing them, found our passage completely blockaded. Having consumed an entire day in vain effort to proceed, we were at length cosnpelled to abandon the idea. The water was constantly falling, and our condition hourly becoming worse. Tliis forced upon us the dernier resort of performing the remainder of our arduous journey on loot. Accorflingly, making cache of the personal property with us, we sunk our barges in a deep hole near by, threw all extra clothing into the river, and, each selecting a robe with as much meat as he could carry, we commenced our weary tramp. The property thus disposed of \vas of the value of several hundred dollars. Among other articles left in cache, were arms and tools of various kinds. No one would now carry a gun, — as we were to pass through a section of country destitute of gams, and, being obliged to travel with all possible despatch to avoid starvation, good policy prompted us to dispense with every unnecessary encumbrance. For myself, however, 1 was unwiUing to re- linquish my rifle, and determined to take it with me. There were fourteen of us, including the coups de barquette of the Ameri- can Fur Company; and, as we trudged along at a pace enfeebled by a series of cruel hardships, fatigue, and starvation, — with provisions and beds bound in close bundles and strapped to our backs, — half-naked, long-bearded, care- worn, and haggard, — we looked like the last remnants of hard times ! The 28tli of June dated the commencement of this last stage of our tire- some pilgrimage. Having travelled some ten or twelve miles, we espied a camp of whites a short distance in advance, and were observed by them almost at the same time. Our appearance created an evident consternation, — their horses were driven inwitli great speed, and their guns stripped ready for action, while our or five men, mounted upon fleet chargers, rode out to reconnoitre. On ascertaining the cause of their alarm to be only a handful of unarmed men, they ventured up, and were saluted with the cordiality of old acquain- tances, so rejoiced were we at the sight of anything savoring of the endear- ments of home and civilization. The company proved one in the employ of the United States Government, under the command Lieut. J. C. Fremont, of the Corps of Topographical Engineers, on an expedition for the exploration and survey of the country laying between the Missouri river and the mountains. The commandant seemed a genileman of urbanity and intelligence, and politely furnished us with all the passing news of the day preceding his departure from the States. Our smokers and tobacco-chewers, who had been for sometime witl^.oui the sina qua mm of the mountaineer, now procured a re-supply for the indul- gence of their filthy and unnatural taste. 17* 198 INDIAN KINDNESS, Leavinj^ our new-found friends, we continued on for a few mile?, and halted a brief interval under the shade of a cottonwood grove. White thus reclining upon the green grass, what was our surprise at seeing three In- dians, who appeared suddenly in our midst extending their hands to greet us ! They belonged to a war-party of Chyennes, — had been to the Pawnees, and were now on their return, with three horses captured from the enemy. Continuing our course, towards sundown I began to find my rifle rather cumbersome, and, yielding to the advice of all hands, threw it away. Having travelled till late at night, we laid ourselves down in the trail for repose; — the musquetoes, however, together with the heat, were so annoying, sleep was impossible. I never in my life before was so tortured by these relentless persecutors. Their sting was far more tolerable to me than the unending hum of their music. To exterminate them was a hopeless task, for, at the death of one, fifty would come to its funeral, — and to submit quietly to their rapacity and be eaten up alive by such loving friends, was more than human flesh and blood could endure. For three hours I lay, sweltered by the heat and pierced by the hungry myriads that swarmed around, until my agony became so great it obtained the mastery of reason, and I was scarcely self-conscious whether a being of eartii or an inhabitant of the realms of woe. In the height of my phrenzy I fancied four demons had hold of the ex- tremities of my robe, and were fiercely dragging me over a prairie of sharp rocks, that tore my flesh at every bound. The remainder of the party suf- fered equally with myself, and none of them were permitted to close their eyes that night. June 29th. We started at early day, and pursued our journey till ten o'clock, which brought us to the foot of Grand Island, — a distance of sixty miles from the place of our adventure with the Indians during the previous afternoon. Here we indulged in a slight repast, and, rechning upon the grass, enjoyed a few hours' sleep, despite the continued annoyance of mus- quetoes. On arousing to resume the painful march, our legs were found in a very unenviable plight, and almost refused to sustain the accustomed burthen. Our feel, also, (softened and made tender by the mollifying effects of the water, to which they had been so long familiar, and, unused to the offices now newly forced upon them.) were sore and swollen to a frightful size. From this on, our journey was most intensely painful. But, notwithstanding all, we were compelled to keep moving, though our progress seemed more like the passage of Mahomet's " bridge of swords " than aught else imaginable. July 2d. This morning our stock of provisions was entirely exhausted, and yet a long distance intervened between us and the settlements. Towards night, however, chance brought us in the way of a plentiful supper, by our encountering the Pawnee village on its way to the buf- felo range. We were entertained by the head chief in a hospitable manner, who furnished us bountifully with boiled corn and mush; and PART COMPANY. ^ 199 we were also invited into several shantees with the same kind in- tention. The Pawnee chief (Red Eagle, if my recollection serves me right) was a generous old fellow, aged some sixty years. His benevolence was truly exemplary, as his conduct well attested. My moccasins, be- ing much worn by long usage, exposed to the ground the bottoms of my feet. This was no sooner discovered by the noble-hearted old man, than he pulled off his own (a pair of new ones) and gave them to me ! What white man would have done the like ? And this was done by the poor Indian, not from the expectation of reward, but through the promptings of an innate benevolence ! A small tin-cup, taken with me thus far, was the only return in my power to make. Leaving the village a little before sundown, we encamped for the night near the houses recently occupied by these Indians, after having travelled seven or eight miles. Their buildings are coniform, and con- structed of earth and timber, very similar to those of the Kansas tribe, described in a previous chapter. Several years ago, the Pawnees were a numerous and powerful na- tion, possessing an extensive territory, and occupying five large tovras, viz : one upon the Republican branch of the Kansas river, one at the forks of the Platte, one south of the Arkansas near the Cumanche coun- try, one on Loup creek, and one some ninety miles above the mouth of the Platte. These several divisions were known by the terms of Pic, Mahah, Republican, Loup, and Grand Pawnees. The Riccarees, speaking the same language, may also be reckoned a fraction of this tribe. The five villages before named are now reduced to two, i. e. on Loup creek and above the mouth of the Platte. The whole number of the Pawnee nation, exclusive of the Riccarees, probably does not exceed six thousand souls. All of the western tribes being at war with them, their numerical strength is continually dimin- ishing. Slight advances have been made towards improving the condition of this nation, but, as yet, with little apparent success. A farmer, blacksmith, and Sijhoolmaster are provided them under the patronage of the U. S. Govern- ment, and a missionary is also stationed among them by the American Board of Foreign Missions. They raise corn* and other vegetables, but their principal dependence for subsistence is upon the proceeds of hunting. Their general character is stamped with indolence, treachery and cowardice, for which they have become famous, not only among the whites, but also am©ng their rude neighbors, — having thus attained the hatred of both. July 3d. This morning we parted company, and each of us undertook to make his way to Council Bluff according to the best of his ability. Being entirely destitute of food, it became us to urge our course with all possible dispatch. *I noticed one cornfield, near the villasre, that contained sixty acres or more, anJ in appearance savored much of civilized agriculture. 200 NOTES BY THE WAY. July 4th. Accompanied by two others, in an equally forlorn conditioD, the " glorious fourth " finds me plodding along, over an open prairie, be- neath the scorching rays of a summer's sun, unarmed, half-naked, with a shouldered pack, and not having had a morsel to eat for the past two days. It is now I think of the festal boards and scenes of good cheer so omni- present upon Freedom's birth-day in the land of my nativity ! Mine is a mode of celebrating Independence, that I care not ever again to observe. On the 6th we reached the Ottoe mission and obtained food, after an ab- stinence of four successive days. Early in the morning of the 7th we arrived at Council Bluff on the Missouri, eight miles above the mouth of the Platte, aiid nearly four hun- dred above Fort Leavenworth. In the course of the day following our whole party came in, one after another — some of whom had become so weakened by hardsliip and deprivation they could scarcely move a dozen yards without stumbling ! Having remained a few days at Council Bluff to recruit our strength, we procured canoes and descended the Missouri. The 21st inst. found me at Independence, Mo., after an absence of nearly nine months, — having con- sumed seventy-five days upon my return voyage, and, in the meantime, ex- perienced a series of suffering and misfortunes seldom equalled and rarely surpassed. CHAPTER XIX. The country between the Pawnee village and Bellevieu, and from that to Fort Leavenworth. — Leave Independente for the Mountains. — Meet Pawnees. — In- dian hospitality. — Journey up the South Fork Platte. — Fort Grove. — Beaver creek. — Bijou. — Chabonard's camp. — Country described. — Medicine Lodge. — The Chy- ennes ; their character and history. — Arrive at Fort Lancaster. — Different locaUties in its neighborhood. — Fatal Duel. — Ruins. The country travelled over from the Pawnee villa^j to Council Bluff (or Bellevieu, as more recently called) is generally posoessed of a rich, clayey soil, which is well adapted to cultivation. Large quantities of timber skirt the streams, that include all the varie- ties foimd in the States. The landscape is beautifully undulating, and, at the time of our passing it, was covered with a luxuriant growth of vege- tation, (the grass bein^ frequently waist high,) and ornamented by rare specimens of wild flowers. The Pawnees, Ottoes, and Omahas possess the whole extent of this ter- *itory, which embraces much valuable land within its limits. That north of the river and adjacent to Bellevieu is owned by the Pottowatomies, who also claim to the boundary between Iowa and Missouri. ) > 1 » » > > f I 1 tf 3 O • ) J > ? > J ■ .t J J J !■ J » > J i •I > « 1 I • « <■ I ( o a bo H O CO < o UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 203 The Kickapoos, lowas, Sacs, and Foxes occupy the country south of the Missouri, from the mouth of the Platte to Fort Leavenworth. All of this interval possesses a fertile soil, is well watered and passably ■well timbered. A more particular description of it, however, does not prop- erly come within the hmits of this work. Upon my arrival at Independence, affairs were in a rather confused state. Times were hard and all kinds of. business at then- lowest ebb. The com- pany for which I had acted had become bankrupt, and left me a loser to no inconsiderable amount. But, notwithstanding this unfavorable aspect of things, I decided upon returning to the Mountains for the purpose of \isit- ing the different regions adjacent to them. Acting upon this resolution, I expended the means at my immediate com- mand for the procurement of an outfit ; — and the beginning of August saw me again eii route, accompanied by two experienced moun'taineers — all of us mounted upon hardy mules and well pronded for the journey before us. The first four or five days subsequent, our progress was much impeded by successive rains, that rendered the road muddy and ourselves uncom- fortable. We were necessitated to raft the Wakarousha, and the Kansas was so swollen it was forded with great difficulty, — the water frequently covering the backs of our animals. From that onward we enjoyed pleasant weather and journeyed without further interruption ; — nothing occurred worth note, till we reached the Pawnee range, near the head of Big Blue. One morning, while travelling along unconcernedly and at our leisiu-e, having as yet observed nothing to excite our apprehensions, a Pawnee sud- denly made his appearance du'ectly in front of us. Such a customer had we been aware of his proximity, would have been most carefully avoided, in a place so dangerous as this ; but, as he had first discovered us, it was now too late to give him the shp, and we accordingly permitted his approach, greeting him in a friendly manner. He i:tmiediately informed us that the whole country was full of his peo- ple returning from their summer-hunt, and he invited us to accompany him to the village. This we declined, being unwilling to trust either him or his people. Observing several other " shaved heads " hurrpng towards us from over the adjoining hills, we struck camp and prepared for the expected rencoim- ter. Upon coming near, however, they appeared friendly and were most of them unarmed. Again we were urged to \isit the village. After waiting an hour or more, we resumed om- com-se, still followed by the unwelcome visitors. A ride of scarcely a half mile brought us to the top of a hill, and, to our surj)rise, placed us in the immediate precincts of the village, — too far advanced for a retreat. The entire po})ulation was instantly in motion, and came crowding to- wards us upon every t-ide. Pushing boldly forward, we were received by the same kind-hearted old chief of whom I had occasion to speak in the preceding chapter. On recognizing me, I was welcomed with great cor- diahty, and we were forthwith conducted to his shantee and sumptuously entertained upon the choicest in liis possession. 204 JOURNEY UP SOUTH FORK PLATTE. Our camp-equipage and otlier articles were all safely disposed of, and nothing conducive to our pleasure or comfort was left unattended to. Dur- ing our entire stay, we were beset with invitations to feasts which were prepared expressly for us by these hospitable villagers, who appeared dis- pleased whenever we declined their acceptance. The old chief broufrht forward his little fjrandson to shake hands with us — remarking, that he would teach his children like himself to love the Americans. A small sack filled with papers was then laid before me for perusal. They consisted of recommendations, speaking in very flattering terms of the bearer. Red Eagle, and belauding his kindness and liberality. Most willingly would I have compHed with his request, and made "the paper talk " for him, but the means were not at hand. The kind-hearted old man presented us each a pair of moccasins and urged our stay till the next morning, — adding: "Some of my men are bad, and my heart is sick for them. Should you go before sleep, they might follow and rob you. When the morrow's sun has newly risen above the prairie, they will have left their foot-prints in the homeward trail, and my white brothers may pass unmolested. But, if you will not rest beneath the shade of the Red Eagle, wait till the day -king is low, then ride fast till the night is old, and thus may you avoid the evil ones who would injure you." This advice seemed so reasonable, we consented to remain till late in the afternoon, when, driving up our animals, we made preparations to start. Every article belonging to us was faithfully returned by the old man, who ordered for us a present of buffalo meat. Several large pieces were accordingly brought by different individuals, of excellent quality, and in quantity more than we could well carry. This was all a free gift, — no one even hinted at a compensation. Where will you find among civilized man generosity and hospitality equal to this ? Willing to reward such exemplary conduct, we presented the liberal donors with a small supply of sugar, coffee, and tobacco ; and, to our host, we gave a knife and some other trifling articles, all of which he received with evident gratification. Bidding the noble chieftain adieu, we pursued our course in accordance with his direction, — travelling nearly all night. Early the next morning we struck the Platte, and, in the afternoon, reached the point at which myself and others had abandoned our boats. On visiting the cache made at that time, not a thing remained ; — it had been robbed by the Pawnees, in all probability, as the island was covered with the tracks of men and horses. But what afforded still more conclusive evidence, was the site of a recent Pawnee encamp- ment within some four hundred yards of the place. The next morning broutrht us to the buffilo rangfe, and our fare was one of continued feastinjj from that onward. Three days subsequently we came to the forks of the Platte, and con- tinued up the south branch, with the design of proceeding to New Mexico by way of Fort Lancaster. MEETING AGAIN. 205 Here we entered a stretch of territory not as yet brought before the read- er's notice. Passing on, a ride of between fifty and sixty miles brought us to a large grove of willows at the mouth of a sand-creek, where we remained the day following. The vicinity contained the relics of three or four Indian forts, con- structed of logs, — one or two of which were in an almost entire state of preservation, and afforded a correct illustration of Indian military genius. Their forms were oval, and the roofage so complete, we were amply sheltered in one of them from a heavy shower which fell during our stay. From this point (properly denominated Fort Grove) to the forks, the country is rather sterile and rolling, with the exception of the river bottoms, which, as usual, are possessed of a rich soil and vary in width from one to five miles. There is scarcely a tree, worth naming, upon either bank of the river for the whole extent. The expanse lying to the northward is quite broken and hilly, with some few pines and cedars at the heads of ravines. Previous to leaving Fort Grove I experienced an attack of the fever and ague, which recurred, at mtervals of once in two days, until we reached Fort Lancaster. Resuming our journey, a ride of some ten miles brought us to the mouth of Pole creek, a large affluent of the right shore. This is a clear and handsome stream, running through a rich valley of considerable width. Its entire course affords but very little timber, and the prairie upon either side is generally sandy and barren. Journeying on about seventy-five miles further, we came to a large stream called la Foucheti aux Castors, or Beaver Fork. This creek heads in the highlands between the Platte and Arkansas, and traces its course through a sandy country, varied by diminutive hills of clayey soil, for a distance of nearly two hundred miles. It presents many beautiful bottoms of a rich vesretable mould, with here and there small clus- ters of timber. Some forty or fifty miles above Beaver creek, we crossed Bijou, another large affluent of the left shore. The water at the mouth of this stream was shallow, dispersing itself in several small channels, over a bed of gravel and quicksand, about four hundred yards wide, and enclosed by abrupt banks of clay and sand. For several miles above its junction with the Platte no timber appears ; but further on, many large groves relieve the eye, and invite the travefler to their shade, while broad meadows and rich bottoms, clothed with grass and flowers, cheer the beholder and delight his fancy. Avg. 30lh. A ride of ten or fifteen miles, from this point, brought us to a camp of whites, in the employ of Bent and St. Vrain, occupying a small island in the Platte. They were guarding a quantity of robes with which they had attempted to descend the river, but were unable to proceed further on account of low water. I was much gratified at here meeting an old acquaintance, with whom I had passed a portion of the previous winter upon White river 18 206 MEDICINE LODGE. The camp was untler llie direciion of a half-breed, named Chabonard, who proved to be a gentleman of superior information. He had acquired a classic education and could converse quite fluently in German, iSpanish, French, and English, as well as several Indian languages. His mind, also, was well stored with choice reading, and enriched by extensive travel and observation. Having visited most of the important places, both in Eng- land, France, and Germany, he knew how to turn his experience to good advantage. There was a quaint humor and shrewdness in his conversation,'SO garbed with intelhgence and perspicuity, that he at once insinuated himself into the good graces of listeners, and commanded their admiration and respect. The country, between Fort Grove and Cabonard's camp, with the excep- tion of the river bottoms, (which were quite fertile and occupied an area, upon both banks, varying in width from .one hundred yards to five miles,) is slightly undulating, and presents two uniform characteristics, — one, a thin clayish loam upon a subtratum of sand and gravel, and the other a sandy surface, often entirely destitute of vegetation, save, perchance, a few scattering spires of coarse grass and a species of prickly burr. Various specimens of cacti are found in every direction, and prove a frequent source of vexation to the traveller. The landscape discloses a scene of dreary sterility, — more to be accounted for by the dryness of the climate than any natural defect in the soil. The river upon both sides is nearly destitute of timber, and we were frequently compelled to use bois de vache for cooking purposes. There is also a scarcity of rock, — though, in the neighborhood of Bijou, I observed a kind of grayish sandstone, exposed to view in the beds, of ravines ; and, directly opposite Chabonard's camp, the action of the waters had formed a steep wall, some thirty or forty feet high, which disclosed a large bed of sandstone and slate, with earthy limestone. A few miles above Beaver Fork, we obtained a distinct view of the main ridge of the Rocky Mountains with the snowy summit of Long's Peak, distant some sixty or sixty-hve miles. They appeared hke a pile of dark clouds jubt rising from the verge of the horizon, and could be identified only by their uniform and stationary position. Fro.ji the time of first entering the buffalo range till we reached Bijou creek, our entire course was beset with dense masses of those animals, which covered the river bottoms and prairies in aU directions, far as the eye could reach. Our usual practice was to kill one every day, and select from its carcase the choice portions so well know^n and highly appreciated by mountaineers ; and, calling to aid the varied modes of cooking peculiar to hunters, surely never did epicures fare better than we. A few miles above Beaver creek we passed the site of a recent Indian en- campment, where was yet standing the frame-work of a medicine lodge, erected by the Chyennes and Arapahos for the performance of their reli- gious rites and ceremonies. This was made of light poles, describing an amphitheatre with a diameter of some fifty feet. In form it was much like the pavilion of a circus, and of sufhcient dimensions to contain several kondred individuals. SKETCH OF THE CHYENNES. 207 I shall take occasion in subsequent pages to speak of meaMcine-makincr, and would refer the reader to that part for an explanation of the peculiar purposes for which the medicine lodge is constructed. The river at Chabonard's camp is reduced fully one half in width, com- pared with its size at the forks. The current' is also clearer and more rapid. Its banks and islands are much better timbered, and its general ap- pearance indicates an approach to the mountains. About noon we bade farewell to our new friends, by whom we had been kindly entertained, and resumed our journey, accompanied by my whilom companion and two others, — increasing our number to six. Towards sundown, coming to a small village of Chyennes, we passed the night in the lodge of a chief, called the Tall Soldier. Our host treated us With much civility, but in this he appeared actuated only by selfish motives, and with the sole view of extorting a more. than fourfold equivalent by way of presents. i ^ We were also continually harassed by beggars from all quarters, and gladly availed ourselves of the first dawn of the ensuing morning to pass on, and thus escape their importunities. The Chyennes at this time occupy a portion of the Arauaho lands, bor- dering upon the South Fork and its affluents. Some six or eight years since, they inhabited the country in the vicinity of the Chyenne and White rivers and the North Fork of Platte, from vv^hence they were driven by the hostile incursions of the Sioux, who now hold in quiet possession the whole of that territory. This tribe, in general appearance, dress, and habits, assimilates most of the mountain and prairie Indians, with the single exception, perhaps, of be- ing meaner than any other. They are certainly more saucy as becro-ars, and impudent and daring as thieves, than any other I ever became acquainted with. ^ Formerly they were a much better people, but the contaminating efTects of intercourse with the whites have made a disposition, naturally ^bad, im- measurably worse. Contrary to Indian character in general, they are. treacherous and unworthy of trust, at all times and in all places. Their history contains a small speck of romance, which may not prove altogether uninteresting to the curious. The Chyennes, at the present time, number about four hundred lodges^ and claim some eight hundred warriors. The tribe is composed of two divisions, VIZ : the Chyennes and Gros Ventres,— both speaking the same language and practising the same designation of nationality, shown in sundry transverse scars upon trie left arm. Neither of these divisions know their origin, but tell the following curious story ot their first intercourse with each other. ° Many years smce, the Chyennes, while travelling from a north country, discovered the Gros Ventres, who were also upon a journey. As usual among strange tribes, both parties rushed to the attack, and a bloody battle would undoubtedly have been the result, had it not been stayed by the mu- tual discovery of an identity of language. Upon this, hostility at once gave 208 A BROKEN COMPANY. place to friendship, and the' two parties negotiated an immediate union. tSince then they have been considered as one nation. What is most singular in this occurrence, neither the Gros Ventres nor Chyennes could trace any previous connection or intercourse with each other, or knowledge of their individual existence. Tliis tribe has made no advances in civilization, and most probably will make none for many years to come. Their roving and unsettled habits prove an obstacle, almost insuperable, to any efforts that may be underta- ken for their improvement. They are generally accounted friendly to the whites, but friendship like this is essentially of a dangerous character. Continuing our journey, the evening of Sept. 2d brought us to Fort Lancaster, after an interval of twenty-six days, during which we had travelled not far from seven hundred and twenty miles. Our route from Chabonard's camp to this point, for the most part, led along the valley of the Platte, which resembled a garden in the splendor of its fields and the variety of its flowers. A ride of four or five miles took us across the dry bed of a large sand- creek, four or five hundred yards wide, known as the Kuyaw^a. The banks of this arroyo are very steep and high, disclosing, now and then, spreads of beautiful bottom lands with occasional groves of cotton wood. At tliis sea- son of the year its waters are lost in the quicksand and gravel. We also passed the mouths of three large affluents of the right bank of Platte, severally known as Crow creek, Cache a la Poudre, and Thomp- son's Fork. These creeks rise in the adjoining mountains, and, with the exception of Crow creek, trace their way with clear and rapid currents, from two to three feet deep and sixty feet wide, over beds of sand and pebbles. Their valleys are broad, rich, and for the most part well timbered. Timber increases in quantity, upon the Platte and its affluents, as the traveller approaches the mountains, and the soil gradually loses that with- ering aridity so characteristic of the grand prairie. Twelve miles below Fort Lancaster we passed Fort George, a large trading post kept up by Bent and St. Vrain. Its size rather exceeds that of Fort Platte, previously described; it is built, however, after the same fashion, — as, in fact, are all the regular trading posts in the country. At this time, fifteen or twenty men were stationed there, under the command of Mr. Marsalina St. Vrain. Six miles further on, we came to a recently deserted post, which had been occupied the previous winter and summer by Messrs Lock and Ran- dolph. One of our party, a whilom engage of this company, informed me of its principals' becoming bankrupt, through mismanagement and losses of various kinds ; — he stated, that, in May last, their entire " cavalliard," consisting ot forty-five head of horses and mules, had been stolen by the Sioux Indians ; this, in connection with other bad luck — together with the depreciated value of furs and peltries, the failure of a boat-load of robes to reach the States, the urgent demands of creditors, &,c., had caused tliem to evacuate their poat and quit the country. RJINS. 209 A short distance above this, at a point of timber occupying a large bot- tom, had been the scene of a fatal duel the previous winter, between two whites by the names of Herring and Beer. On my first arrival in the country 1 had become acquainted with both of the actors, and felt much in- terested in the details of the bloody afTair as related by one present at the time of its unfortunate occurrence. The difficulty between them related to a Mexican woman from Taos, — the wife of Herring. Backed by a number of personal friends, and anxious to obtain the lady from her husband, the former had provoked a quarrel and used very insult- ing language to his antagonist. This was received with little or no reply, but soon, however, resulted in a challenge which was promptly accepted. The preliminaries were arranged in confident expectation of killing Her- ring, who was considered a poor marksman, especially at an oft-hand shot. The weapons selected by Beer were rifles, the distance fifty yards, the man- ner off-hand, and the time of shooting between the word fire and three. The two met, attended by their friends, at the time and place agreed upon, — at the word "^/'e," the ball of Beer's rifle was buried in a cottonwood a few inches above the head of his antagonist, — at the word "ii/iree" the con- tents of Herring's rifle found lodgement in the body of Beer, who fell and expired in a few minutes. Between this point and Fort Lancaster, I noticed the ruins of another trading post, much dilapidated in appearance, and nearly levelled with the ground. Passing along, I could not refrain from musing upon the frequent deeds of mischief and iniquity that had originated within them, in connection with the infamous liquor traffic. Ah, thought I, were those bricks possessed of tongueS; full many a tale of horror and guilt would they unfold, to stand the listener's " hair on end," and make his blood run cold ! But, lost in silent unconsciousness, they refuse to jspeak the white man's shame I 18* 210 CHAPTER XX. Old acquaintances. — Indian murders. — Mode of travelling in a dangerous country.— Mexican traders. — Summary way of teaching manners. — Fort Lancaster and sur- rounding country. — Resume journey. — Cherry creek and connectmg observations. — Sketch of the Arapahos, their country, character, &c. — Camp of free traders. — Blackfoot camp. — Daugherty's creek. — Observations relative to the Divide. — Mex- ican cupidity.— Strange visitore.— The lone travellers.— Arrive at the Arkansas. --- General remarks.— Curious specimens of cacti — Fontaine qui Bouit, or Natural Soda-fountain. — Indian superstition. — Enchanting scenery. — Extraordinary wall of sandstone. At Fort Lancaster I was gratified by meeting with several acquaintances of the previous winter, two of whom had been comrades during a part of my unfortunate and adventurous voyage down the Platte. My appearance created no little surprise and pleasure, on all sides. Queries of various kinds were industriously plied, relative to the latest news from the States, and also in reference to the miseries and hardships undergone during the interval of my absence. The dangers of our mode of travelling were freely e.vpatiated upon, and numerous instances of recent Indian hostihties cited to prove our "fool daring." Among the latter was an outrage perpetrated by the Chyennes, only two weeks previous, in the murder of three white men, — one of whom was the oldest trapper in the mountains, and had been for some time engaged in the fur trade. The murderers had the impudence to ask a scalp-feast from the com- mandant of the Fort, according to custom in case of overcoming their ene- mies in battle ! Tlie hair, however, being recognized as that of a white man, no feast was given. When accused of the murder, they apologized by saying the poor fellow was suffering greatly at the time from recent wounds, and they had killed him out of pity ! In our mode of travelling, we always used due precaution to avoid sur- prise and attack. This is easily done, while among buffalo, by noticing their movements, — as these animals invariably flee across the wind upon the approach of man, and neither Indians nor whites can traverse their range without setting the whole country in motion. We observed another plan of caution by frequently ascending some emi nence, and scanning the wide expanse, far and near. Our general ])ractice was to travel till night, and camp without fire in the open prairie, thus precluding the possibility of being discovered, even though in the immediate vicinity of Indians. A party of tliree or four men can pass through a dangerous country and avoid coming in contact with enemies, provided they exercise a needful vigi- lance much more easily than one of larger numbers. With a large company MEXICANS IN THE MOUNTAINS. 211 too much dependence is reposed in eacli other, which soon results in indi- vidual carelessness and neglect. Added to this, they are apt to rely upon their numerical strength, and, forgetting this simple truism, that " caution is the parent of safety," rush into danger when they are least aw are of it. It thus occurs that large parties are more liahle to i?urprise than smallei ones, and more frequently sufier losses from the depredations of prowling enemies. On the contrary, where but three or four individuals are travelling together, they trust exclusively to their own personal vigilance. Keenly alive to every suspicious appearance, they seldom fail to discover the presence of danger without exposing themselves, and may avoid it by a timely retreat or change of course. There is little risk in an open prairie, in case an enemy is first seen by the party v/ishing to shun his presence"; — they have only to manoeuvre in such a manner as to elude observation, (a thing not often difficult,) and all is safe. In subsequent travels through dangerous countries I have aiw^ays acted upon these suggestions, and never yet found them to fail. Some twelve or fifteen Mexicans were at this time present at the Fort. They constituted a trading party from Taos, escorting a caravan of pack- horses and mules, laden with flour, corn, bread, beans, onions, dried pumpkin, salt, and pepper, to barter for robes, skins, furs, meat, moccasins, bows and arrows, ammunition, guns, coflee, calico, cloth, tobacco, and old clothes, which were to compose their return freight. A worse looking set was here presented than that previously described in the second chapter of this volume. Some of them were as black as veritable negroes, and needed only the curly hair, thick lips, and flattened nose, to define the genuine Congo in appearance. A more miserable look- ing gang of filthy half-naked, ragamuffins, I never before witnessed. Tlieir cargoes had already been disposed of at various prices, according to circumstances. Flour and meal were sold at from four to six dollars per fanega^ (one hundred and twenty pounds,) and other articles at like prices. Their first asking price was at the rate of twenty dollars "^er fanega; but an aflray which occurred with a small party of Americans, immediately upon their arrival, had made i\\ii&e produce merchants much more reasonable in their demands. The particulars of the affair were rather disgraceful to both parties. The Americans, anxious to purchase a quantity of flour, offered to take it at the asking price, provided the Mexicans would receive their pay in robes of a rather indiflercnt quality. This the latter refused and a dispute arose, when insulting language was used on both sides, coupled with threats of mutual injury. The Mexicans retired a short distance and camped, — soon after the Americans, four in number, rushed among them and drove off" their entire cavaliard, containing twenty head of horses and mules. The Mexicans seized their arms for resistance, and the commandante advancing demanded of the nearest assailant : " Que quiere, cabellero ?" (what do you want, sir ?) "Yotenga lo cabaljardo, — porque dicirme esta?" (I have your horses,— why do you ask ?) 212 FORT LANCASTER, ETC. " Carraho, Americana !" said tlie Mexican, levelling his gun at the speaker. In an instant a pistol-shot from the latter laid him prostrate, — the ball en- tering his chest near the heart. No further resistance was offered, and the assailants retired with their booty. The next morning, however, they returned, and the two parties com- promised the matter by certain conciliatory arrangements, which resulted in the Americans giving up the captured animals, on condition that the Mexi- cans should in future be less insolent and conduct their trade on more reasonable terms. The wounded man recovered in three or four weeks, and was now ready tx) accompany his party on their homeward-bound journey. A large number of Mexicans are employed at the different trading posts in this vicinity. They prove quite useful as horse-guards, and also in taking care of cattle and doing Ihe drudgery connected with these estab- lishments. Their wages vary from four to ten dollars per month, which they receive in articles of traffic at an exhorbitant price ; — viz : calicoes, (indifferent quality,) from fifty cents to one dollar per yard ; blue cloth, from live to ten dollars per do. ; powder, two dollars per lb. ; lead, one do. do. ; coffee, one do. do. ; tobacco, from two to three do. do. ; second hand robes, two dollars apiece. — and everything else in proportion. Their wages for a whole year, in actual value, bring them but a trifling and almost nameless consideration. Notwithstanding, these miserable creatures prefer travelling four hundred miles to hire for such diminutive wages, rather than to remain in their own country and work for less. They know of no better way to get a living, and are, therefore, happy in their ignorance, and contentedly drag out a wretched existence as best they may. After a period of service they generally return home laden with the pal- try proceeds of their toil, and, yielding to the impulses of custom, a single fandango is sufficient to leave them penniless like the squalid crowd witli whom they mingle. A week's stay at the Fort restored me to health and soundness from the debilitating effects of the fever and ague, without a resort to medicine. This disease (the first and only attack of which 1 ever experienced) had made fearful inroads upon my strength during the short interval of its con- tinuance, and rendered me unfit for travelling; — but, a change of climate and the inhalation of the pure mountain air effected a permanent and speedy cure, in a much less time than I had reason to expect. Fort Lancaster occupies a pleasant site upon the south bank of tb^ Platte river, about nine hundred miles from its mouth, and seven hundred and twenty from Independence, in lat. 40^ 12' 25" north, long. 105° 53' 11" west from Greenwich. The distance from this point to the dividing ridge of the Rocky Mountains is about liiirty-five miles, and from Taos, in New Mexico, between three and four hundred miles. Long's Peak with its eternal snow -appears in distinct view to the west- ward, and imparts to the sunset scenery a beauty and grandeur rarely wit- nessed in any country. This peak is one of the highest of the mountain range, being upwards of 13,500 feet above the level of the Gulf of Mexico, SKETCH OF THE ARAPAHOS. 213 and issues from its eastern side the waters of the Atlantic, and from ita western the tributaries of the Pacific. Between the mountains and the B'prt, the prairie is generally level, though slightly undulating in places ; — it is possessed of a tolerable soil, composed of clay and gravel, ever and anon spreading before the traveller rich val leys, decked with sweet flowers and lusty herbage. The country eastward is rolling, sandy, and sterile ; and, with few ex ceptions, presents little to attract the eye or please the fancy. The Platte bottoms, above and below, are quite heavily timbered and af ford an abundance of grass of various kinds. The soil is of a black, deep loam, very rich and well adapted to cultivation. The business transacted at this post is chiefly with the Chyenncs, but the Arapahos, Mexicans, and Soux also come in for a large share, and contribute to render it one of the most profitable trading establishments in the country. Sept. lOih. Arrangements bemg completed for resuming my jouriiey» I left Fort Lancaster in company with four others, intending to proceed as far as Taos in New Mexico. We were all mounted upon stout horses, a] id provided with two pack-mules for the conveyance of baggage and provi- sions. Followinsr the trail leading from the Platte to the Arkansas, or Rio Na- pesie, we continued our way some thirty-five miles, and halted with a camp of free traders and hunters, on Cherry creek. This stream is an affluent of the Platte, from the southeast, heading in a broad ridge of pine hills and rocks, known as the " Divide." It pursues its course for nearly sixty miles, through a broad valley of rich soil, tolerably well timbered, and shut in for the most part by high plats of table land, — at intervals thickly studded with lateral pines, cedars, oaks, and shrubs of various kinds, — gradually expanding its banks as it proceeds, and exchang- ing a bed of rock and pebbles for one of quicksand and gravel, till it finally attains a width of nearly two hundred yards, and in places is almost lost in the sand. The stream derives its name from the abundance of cherry found upon it. The country passed over from the Fort to this place, is generally sandy, but yields quite a generous growth of grass. We passed, in our course, the dry beds of two transient creeks, one eight, and the other fifteen miles from the Fort. Our route bore nearly due south for twenty miles, following the Platte bottom to the mouth of Cherry creek, thence southeast, continuing up the valley of the latter. The Platte presented heavy groves of timber upon both banks, as did also its islands, while its bottoms appeared fertile. The mountains, some fifteen miles to our right, towering aloft with their snow-capped summits and dark frowning sides, looked like vast piles of clouds, big with storm and heaped upon the lap of earth; while the vapor- scuds that flitted around them, seemed as the ministers of pent up wrath, in readiness to pour forth their torrents and deluge the surrounding plains, or let loose the fierce tornado and strew its path with desolation. Three or four miles before reaching our present camp, we passed a vil- lage of the Arapahos on its way to the mountains, in pursuit of game 214 FREE TRADERS. With this the reader is introduced to that nation for the first time, which affords me occasion to speak of them more particularly. The Arapahos are a tribe of prairie Indian-;, inhabitino^ the country bor- dering upon the South Fork of the Platte and Arkansas rivers. Their territory embraces an extent of about forty-five thousand square miles, a portion of wliich is well watered and interspersed with numerous fertile spots. Timber is rarely found, except in the creek bottoms and among the mountains. A large section of it, however, is dry, sandy, and sterile, and almost entirely timberless and destitute of water. The game of these regions includes all the varieties common to the mountains, which are quite abundant. The territory also possesses large mineral resources, and includes among its btores of hidden wealth, gold, silver, copper, lead, iron, coal, soda, nitre, salt, and sulpher, with vast beds of gypsum. This nation boasts some five hundred and twenty-five lodges, numbering not far from four thousand souls. In appearance, as well as manners and customs, they assimilate the Sioux and Chyennes. Their insignia of na- tionality is a tattooed breast, by which they are distinguished from neigh- boring tribes. They aflTord to the observer the rare instance of increasing numbers in an Indian population. The Arapahos since their first treaty with tlie whites, some fifteen years ago, have maintained terms of the strictest friendship on their part. They have never been knov/n to kill or even injure a white man in the interval, and rarely to steal from him any article of value. They seem to take pleas- ure in the bestowment of kindness and hospitality upon such whenever in their power, but commonly in expectation of reward, and are exceedingly annoying as beggars. These Indians, though brave, are less warlike than contiguous tribes, — being at variance only with the Utahs and Pawnees, whose countries are severally invaded as occasion serves, and often with success. They possess considerable taste for trafiicing, and regularly meet the Sioux, Chyennes, Cumanciies, and Kuyawas lor that purpose, and many of them know how to drive as good a bargain as the most expert Yankee. Notwithstanding the ma:iy good qualities possessed by them, they are in- ferior to their neighbors in morality. The ^iioux and Chyennes are far more chaste, and never indulge in the low practices common' with the Arap- ahos. Virtue with the former is guarded by the strictest vigilance and jedousy, while with the latter it is made the minister of lust and is prosti- tuted for a paltry bribe. As yet no effort has been made for their im.provement, though I regard them as more susceptible of civilization than any other of the prairie tribes. They appear to be great admirers of the manners, customs, arts, and mode of liv- ing prevalent among the whites, and only lack the requisite instruction to become their successful imitators. The camp at which we are at present located consists of four lodges, — three of whites, and one of Black foot Indians. Each of the whites has his squaw wife, and the usual accompaniment of ruddy faced children. In regard to the latter, I must say they were more beautiful, interesting, and intelligent than the same number of full-bloods, — either of whites or Indians. A Blackfoot Chief.— Pao-e 214. BEARS. 217 These men were living after the fashion of their new-found relatives, and seemed to enjoy themselves as well as circumstances would admit. They had a number of horses, with the requisite supply of arms and ammunition, — i the sure sources of wealth and comfort in a country abounding with game. The Indian family were relatives by marriage, and were one of some fif- teen lodges of Blackfeet among the Arapahos, who forsook their own na- tion, on account of its uncompromising hostility to the whites. Quite a number of these Indians have also joined the Sioux and Nesperces, for a like reason. We were entertained very kindly by our new friends who spared no effort to render our stay agreeable. Among the delicacies set before us, was one deserving of notice, — it consisted of the fruit of prickly pears (cacti) boiled in \vater for some ten or twelve hours till it became perfectly soft, when it was compressed through a thin cloth into the fluid in which it had been boiled. This forms a delicious variety in mountain fare, and one highly stimulating and nutritious. The immense quantities of cacti fruit found near the mountains, at the proper season, render the above an entertainment not uncommon. Sept. 1 ^th. Again under way ; after a ride of fifteen miles, night finds ns at Blackfoot-camp, snugly chambered in a spacious cave, to avoid the disa- greeable effects of a snow-storm that comes upon the reluctant prairie with all the witherinor keenness of winter. The cave aflbrding us shelter is formed in an abrupt embankment of lime- stone, that marks the eastern limits of a beautiful valley through which a small affluent of Cherry creek traces its way. The floor is of dry gravel and rock, about fifty feet long by fifteen wide, while upon one side a crystal spring presents its tempting draughts. Thus chambered, a small fire soon rendered us comfortable and happy, notwithstanding the dreary weather without. Our course during the day bore southward, and led from the valley of Cherry creek to an interesting plateau, furrowed at intervals by deep can- ons, enclosing broad bottoms of rich alluvion, and ridged upon either hand by high hills of pine and ledges of naked rock. The streams are generally timberless, — the soil of the highlands is of a red, clayey mould, and quite fertile. Instead of the aridity incident to the neighboring prairies, it is usually humid. The country hereabouts, for an extent of upwards one thousand square miles, is much subject to storms of rain, hail, snow, and wind, — and it is rarely a person can pass through it without being caught by a storm of some kind. I can account for this in no other way than by supposing it has some connection with the vast quantities of minerals lying embedded in its hills and valleys. Sept. I4:ih. Morning was ushered in with a pleasant sunshine, that soon caused the snow of the past night to yield beneath its melting influences. When on the point of raising camp, an old grizzly bear made her appear- ance with three cubs. An effort to approach her j)roved futile, — she, hav- ing snuffed the closeness of danger with the breeze, made a hasty retreat with her offspring. 19 218 NIGHT VISITORS. I allude to the above incident for this reason, that it is generally supposed the bear produces but two at a birth. Continuing our journey till late at night, we reached an affluent of Fo7h- taine qui Buuit, called Daugherty's creek, after travelling a distance of some thirty miles. Here we remained for three or four days, to procure a further supply of provisions. The route from Blackfoot-camp, for the most part, led over a rough country, interspersed with high piny ridges and beautiful valleys, sustain- ing a luxuriant growth of vegetation, which is known as the Divide. This romantic region gives rise to several large tributaries both of the Platte and Arkansas, and furnishes the main branches of the Kansas. Its geological classitications consist of sandstone, limestone, granite, and cre- taceous rock. Large quantities of silex are also found, together with many interesting specimens of petrifaction that principally consist of pine wood ; these, in many cases, exhibit the tree in its perfect shape, with all the grains and pores tliat marked its growth. A ride of three hours took us past the heads of Bijou and Kuyawa, whose clear and swift currents, confined to narrow beds, here presented a striking contrast to those remarked at their confluence with the Platte. Continuing on a few miles, we reached Black Squjrrel creek, an affluent of the Arkansas ; and from thence, after a brisk trot for some fourteen miles over a nearly level prairie, w^e came to our present camp. Our place of stay was in sweet little valley enclosed by piny ridges. The entrance leading to it is through a defile of hills from whose rugged sides protrude vast piles of rock, that afford a pass of only fifty or a hun- dred yards in width. An abundance of grass greets the eye, arrayed in the loveliness of summer's verdancy, and blooming wild-flowers nod to the breeze as enchantingly as when the fostering hand of spring first awoke tliem to life and to beauty. The creek derives its name from Daugherty, a trader who was murder- ed upon it several years since. At the time he was on his way to the Ar- kansas with a quantity of goods, accompanied by a Mexican. The latter, anxious to procure a few yards of calico that constituted a part of the freight, shot him in cold blood, and hastened to Taos with his ill-gotten gains, where he unblushingly boasted of his inhuman achievement. My excursions among the hills brought before me many interesting geological specimens, mostly such as characterize the Divide. I noticed two or three extensive beds of stone coal in the vicinity of the creek, with an abundance of nitre and other mineral salts. Having killed three fine cows during the five days we remained at this place, the scent of fresh meat attracted an old bear and her cub, which, in the expectation of a choice repast, were induced to pay us a night visit. We were quietly reposing at the time, nor dreamed of the ungainly monsters within camp, till their harsh growls grated upon our ears and raised us each to a speedy consciousness. Instantly every rifle was clenched and levelled at the uiiwelcome intruders, and two discharges bespoke their warm reception. The bears, not fancying this new test of friendship, quickly withdrew and permitted us to resume our slumbers. Fitzpatrick and Van Dusen, two old mountaineers, passed our ei>' SODA SPRING. 219 campment, in the interim, on their way to the States. Having devoted a number of years to the business of trapping, few possess a more intimate knowledge of this country than they. The former of these gentlemen was on his return from Oregon with dispatches for the U. S. Govei-nmeut, and had acted as pilot for a party of emigrants to that territory during the pre- vious summer. After conducting his charge to their place of destination, he and his companion had travelled thus far alone,* — a distance of more than one thousand miles. Sept. 19ih. Leaving Daugherty's creek we resumed our course, and reached the Arkansas the next day, about noon. Here we encamped in a small grove of cottonwood upon the right bank, a few miles above the mouth of Fontaine qui Bouit. In gaining this point we travelled some forty-five miles, mostly over a sandy prairie, slightly undulating to the leftward, but, to the right, descri- bing the waves of a tempest-tossed ocean. Its general character is sterility; the grass gowing thinly and being of a coarse kinrl, with the exception of that of the creek bottoms, whicli alibrds several varieties of a lusty size, mingled with occasional spreads of prtle — a choice article for the subsistence of horses and mules. In passing along, I observed a new species of the cacti family, that grew in a shurb-like form to a height of five or six feet. Its stalk was round and fully an inch in diameter. This made the fourth variety of cactus noticed during the past few days. Of these, two resemble the common " prickly pear " in their appearance. Another species, however, was egg-shaped, bearing a fruit much like the cranberry in color and form. At the proper season, it also produces a beau- tiful red fiower, that emits a most anreeable perfume, in some measure atoning for its dreaded intrusion upon the path of the wayfarer. Fontaine nin Bouit, or the Boiling Fountain, is the name bestowed upon a considerable stream that heads under Pike's Peak, in lat. SS'^ 52' 10" north, long. 105° 22' 45" west from Greenwich, and pursues a southerly course till it unites with the Arkansas. This name is di^rived from two singular springs, situated witliin a few yards of eacli other at the creek's head, both of which emit water in the form of vapor, accompanied with a hissing noise — the one strongly impreg- nated with sulphur and the other with soda.f _ ^Before reachinir the States, however, he was robbed of everythin