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Beyond the Old Frontier. Adventures of Indian
Fighters, Hunters, and Fur Traders. By Georgc
Bird Grinnell.

Missionary Explorers Among the American
Indians. Edited by Mary Gay Humphreys.

True Tales of Arctic Heroism in the New
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BEYOND THE OLD FRONTIER

Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2007

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AMONG THE BUFFALO

BEYOND

THE OLD FRONTIER

ADVENTURES OF

INDIAN-FIGHTERS, HUNTERS, AND
FUR-TRADERS

GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL

AUTHOR OF

* TRAILS or THE PATHFINDEKS,” “ BLACKFEET INDIAN STORIES, ” ETC,

.IbL.USTJRATED

NEW YORK

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS

1922

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A r \

V ‘T]'.'— ►' -

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Printed in the United States of America

Published September, 1913

PREFACE

To-day the vast territory lying between the Mississippi
River and the Pacific Ocean is occupied by many millions
of people. Fifty years ago, except on the Pacific slope, it
had few white inhabitants. Then it was the Far West, be-
yond the frontier, the Indian country — the unknown. A
journey into it was believed to be full of peril. In the minds
of the general public it was as far away as Central China is
to-day.

Beyond the great river which bounded it on the east was
a fringe of settlements. Scattered through the more distant
country were the trading-posts to which the trapper brought
his furs. Fortk.Gyrry 5* Benton^ Unibe, Laramie, Bridger, and
Bent were some of; these., .There were a few army posts, and
as time went on others ■’v^Vrje established.

Gold had been drscoyered^ in California, and a wild rush of
people anxious t6 better their condition had started across
the plains, bound for the distant Eldorado. It was a curi-
ously mixed population that set out on this long journey.
Farmers from New England, business men and clerks from
the Middle States, planters and younger sons from the
South; on foot and on horseback, carrying their possessions,
large or scanty, in vehicles drawn by horses, mules, oxen,
and cows, they struggled westward. They endured enor-
mous toils; perpetually in fear of attacks by Indians, meeting

Preface

the dangers, delays, and perplexities of wild men, strange
surroundings, rough travelling, swollen streams, and ex-
hausted live-stock.

For many years the roads over which they had passed
were marked by the skeletons of animals, by broken-down
wagons, by furniture and household goods, thrown away to
lighten the loads dragged by their feeble teams. Along these
deep-worn roads were the graves of those who had perished
on the way; sometimes mere mounds of earth, hardly show-
ing on the level prairie, or perhaps marked by a bit of board
thrust in the ground, bearing a pencilled name and date,
which the winter’s storms would soon obliterate.

Gold was discovered in the Rocky Mountains. The vil-
lage of Denver was established, and along the mountain
streams the prospector worked with pick and shovel and pan,
and wore away his strength and his courage in hunting for
the gold that often he did not find. Montana also began to
yield gold, and Salmon River and Alder Gulch were at the
beginnings of their fame. Steam-boat traffic- :on the upper
Missouri River, at first esce.bl%hed for the‘ tfahsportation of
furs, gave easy access to the Montalvo t.iines. Stages were
running across the continent,' and the 'pony express had been
established. V' A, :

Between 1853 and 1863 the plains and mountains of the
West began to receive a sedentary population and to prepare
for that startling development which began about a genera-
tion later.

To most people who now inhabit the Western country the
struggles of those early years are still unknown. Industri-
ous, energetic, fertile in resources, they live their lives without
a thought of the distant past, without considering the con-

Preface

Vll

ditions which made possible existence as it is to-day. They
are sturdy Americans absorbed in the diverse problems which
they have to meet, and, with astonishing success, devoting
themselves to the solution of those problems. This is as it
should be, yet it is worth while from time to time to take a
look backward, and to consider what those endured who went
before us. To most of us our own life is almost the only
struggle worth considering, and wrapped up in our personal
affairs, we do not remember the stupendous difficulties faced
by our forebears, who conquered this country and made pos-
sible its development, and the ease and luxury in which we
to-day have a part.

Not many years ago a change began to take place in
the view-point of many Americans. Far-sighted men and
women came to feel that the history made by their fathers
and mothers was worth preserving, and they began to write
and talk about this. What they said fell on sympathetic
ears, and interest was easily aroused, so that before long in
many of the Western States historical societies were estab-
lished, and earnest men gave time and effort to the work of
inducing the early settlers to set down their recollections —
to describe the events in which they had taken part. Later
came the marking of historic spots and trails by monuments.

To-day the historical societies of many Western States
issue each year a volume filled with material of great interest
— matter that will be of enormous value to the historian who
shall set down the story of the development of the West.

Since the accounts which appear in the following pages
have to do with a country then unknown, the explorers who
penetrated it faced new conditions and met new and primi-
tive peoples. To subsist in these unknown lands they were

Vlll

Preface

forced to hunt its animals, and the purpose which led them
so far afield was the trading for furs. The book thus deals
with a number of cognate subjects, with exploration, hunt-
ing, the taking of fur, and Indians in peace and war; and in
any or all of these there is excitement and interest enough.

Let us look back at some of the happenings in this forgotten
West, which is now again being remembered.

CONTENTS

PACK

An Early Fur Trader i

Fur Hunters of the Far West 39

When Beaver Skins were Money 125

George Frederick Ruxton, Hunter 191

A Boy in Indian Camps 235

The Solitary Hunter 275

The Council at Fort Benton 323

Index 3^5

ILLUSTRATIONS

Among the Buffalo Frontispuce

TACIVO

PAGE

Assiniboine-Piegan Battle before the Walls of

Fort Mackenzie 34

Kit Carson 164

Indian Signalling “ Buffalo Discovered ” . . 222

A Cheyenne Indian Camp 258

“ Bison and Bull, now in Mortal Combat, Met
Midway with a Shock that Made the Earth
Tremble” 294

‘‘Just as He was Putting a Copper Cap on the

Nipple, the Bear Rose on Her Hind Legs” 316

A Distribution of Goods to the Gros Ventres . 356

MAP

The Frontier Country

AN EARLY FUR TRADER

THE FRONTIER COUNTRY

AN EARLY FUR TRADER

ONE hundred years ago little more was known of
the Pacific coast than that the land ended at
the edge of the wide ocean, already furrowed
by the keels of explorers, whalers, and traders.

On the north, Alexander McKenzie had reached the
salt water, and a dozen years later Lewis and Clark
had come to the mouth of the Columbia. A few years
after that came the Astor settlement at Astoria, soon
— in 1813 — to be handed over to the British, to the
Northwest Company, which remained in control there
until its consolidation with the Hudson Bay Company
in 1821.

One of the first commercial adventurers to the
Columbia River, and one of the first men engaged by
John Jacob Astor for his far western fur-trading expe-
ditions, was Alexander Ross, a Scotchman, who came
to Canada in early life, spent more than forty-four
years in the fur trade, and finally died in the Red River
settlement in 1856. Unlike most fur traders, he had
the energy and the interest, in the later years of his
life, to set down an account of what he had seen and
done during those early years of anxiety, hard work,

Beyond the Old Frontier

and success. His story *‘is not an arm-chair narrative
derived from hearsay tales, but the result of practical
experience on the spot.’’ During most of the time
while engaged in trading with the savage tribes west
of the Rocky Mountains he was a leader; and the
success or failure of his expeditions — often the lives of
his men and himself — depended on what he thought,
did, and said. He was a man of high courage, unfail-
ing energy, and close observation. His was serious
work, yet he possessed some sense of humor, which,
however, he allows to appear only now and then in his
books. As a close observer stationed in the midst of
things and admirably acquainted with conditions, he
saw the blunders made by Mr. Astor and criticised
them freely; yet he was always loyal to his chief, and
speaks with apparent contempt of those other men of
the north, hired by Mr. Astor for their great experi-
ence in the fur trade, who, when the War of 1812 broke
out and the Northwesters descended on Astoria, seemed
glad to desert their employer and to renew their alle-
giance to the company that they had left for Astor’s
higher pay and greater privileges.

Ross wrote three books which are extraordinarily
full of information, and most useful as accurate descrip-
tions of early conditions in the country which is now
the Northwestern United States. These are Advent-
ures on the Oregon or Columbia River, Fur Hunters of
the Far West, and, finally, an account of The Red River
Settlement. These three books give us in more or less

An Early Fur Trader

connected form a history of the Columbia River and
the region about Old Fort Garry — now Winnipeg — a
history far better than anything that has ever been set
down.

The first book deals chiefly with the history of Mr.
AstoFs enterprise from its beginning in 1809 until the
taking over of the trading-post by the Northwest
Company, the change of name to Fort George, the
sale of the property of the Astor Company, and the
departure on April 3, 1814, of Mr. Hunt, Astor’s rep-
resentative, and the few men that went with him.
After this, the Pacific Fur Company now being at an
end, Ross, Cox, and McLellan entered the service of the
Northwest Company.

The American Fur Company, established by Mr.
Astor, began operations in 1809. One after another,
other fur-trading companies were absorbed, until Astor
saw himself at the head of all the fur trade south of
Canada, with the possible hope of reaching out for the
trade of the northern country east of the Rocky Moun-
tains. West of that range was a vast field as yet almost
untouched. True, the Russians had trading-posts in
what was then Russian America, and sent the furs
gathered there direct to China. True, also, that some
American coasting vessels on the Pacific secured a few
furs which they took to China, but this hardly touched
the possibilities of half a continent. Astor clearly saw
that, if systematized and carefully managed, this desul-
tory traffic would be enormously profitable, and this led

Beyond the Old Frontier

him to organize the Pacific Fur Company, the chief
station of which was to be at the mouth of the Columbia
River. That station might be connected with others
on the Atlantic water-shed by a chain of trading-posts
across the continent, and such a combination, he be-
lieved, would control the whole American fur trade.
Furs could be shipped in either direction — down the
Missouri, eastward; or to the west, down the Oregon,
to go to China.

Understanding the wide experience of the northern
fur traders, and with a view also to lessening the fric-
tion which might exist between the British and the
American governments along the border, Astor engaged
as field-workers for this far western service a number
of the retired partners of the Northwest Company.
Such men as McKay, McKenzie, McDougall, and
Stuart were glad to become interested with him in the
enterprise. Astor furnished the capital, amounting to
two hundred thousand dollars; there were ten partners.
The agreement was for a period of twenty years, with
the proviso that if the project proved impractical or
unprofitable after five years it might be dissolved.
For these first five years, however, Astor was to bear all
the expenses and losses, the other partners furnishing
only their time and labor. The nine partners outside
of Mr. Astor and Mr. Hunt each held four shares of the
stock of two thousand dollars each, while Astor held
fifty, and Hunt, as his representative and chief man-
ager, five. The remaining shares were reserved for

An Early Fur Trader

such clerks as might join the concern as adventurers,
without other remuneration than their chances of suc-
cess at the end of five years’ trial. As was natural,
Astor controlled the enterprise. His manager was Wil-
son Price Hunt, a man wholly without experience in
the Indian trade, but energetic, active, and persevering.

Ross learned of the project from Mr. McKay, who
asked him to go to Montreal to talk about the matter.
Ross was asked to join the expedition, and was the first
one to do so, and with Robert Stuart made so good a
bargain that these two were promised their promotion
at the end of three years. Soon after the arrangements
were completed a party under Mr. Hunt started across
the continent overland, while another party headed by
McKay sailed, September lo, i8io, for the mouth of
the Columbia River.

The sorrows of that voyage have often been described.
Captain Thorn, in command of the “Tonquin,” ap-
pears to have been a man impossible to get along with.
They went around the Horn, touched at the Sandwich
Islands, and at last reached the mouth of the Columbia
River. There had been continual quarrels between
the captain, his passengers, and the officers of the ship.

At last, however, the ‘‘Tonquin” was off the mouth
of the Columbia River, a rough and stormy spot, of
many sand-bars and high surf, and the weather was
worse in spring than at any other time of the year. It
was now March or April. Here there was constant
mismanagement; boats were sent out to reconnoitre.

Beyond the Old Frontier

and people were lost; the ship two or three times struct
the bottom, became unmanageable, and was finally
carried by the tide into Baker’s Bay. There, sheltered
from the sea, it was safe.

The fur traders got ashore and began to look for the
missing boats and men. During this journey Ross
learned something about the Indians’ management of
their canoes.

“We had on this occasion a specimen of Chinooke
navigation. While crossing the river in an Indian
canoe, on our way back to the ship, we were suddenly
overtaken by a storm, and our craft was upset in the
middle of the passage. The expertness of the natives
in their favorite element was here put to thfi test. At
this time we were upwards of two miles from the shore,
while eight persons unable to swim were floating in
every direction; coats, hats, and everything else adrift,
and all depending on the fidelity of the four Indians
who undertook to carry us over; yet, notwithstanding
the roughness of the water, and the wind blowing a gale
at the time, these poor fellows kept swimming about
like so many fishes, righted the c^noe, and got us all
into her again, while they themselves staid in the water,
with one hand on the canoe and the other paddling.
In this manner they supported themselves, tossing to
and fro, till we bailed the water out of our frail craft, and
got under way again. Here it was that the Indians
showed the skill and dexterity peculiar to them. The
instant the canoe rose on the top of a wave, those on the

An Early Fur Trader

windward side darted down their long paddles to the
armpits in the water to prevent her from upsetting;
while those on the leeside at the same moment pulled
theirs up, but kept ready as soon as the wave had passed
under her to thrust them down again in a similar man-
ner, and thus by their alternate movements they kept
the canoe steady, so that we got safe to shore without
another upset, and with the loss of only a few articles
of clothing; but we suffered severely from wet and cold.

“During this time the Indians from the village which
we had left, seeing our critical situation, had manned
and sent off two canoes to our assistance. One of the
boats from the ship was also despatched for the same
purpose; but all would have proved too late had we
not been fortunate enough of ourselves to weather
the storm.'’

A few days after this the long boat was swamped off
Chinook Point, and ten persons were saved by these
Chinooks.

The fur traders and their property being at last
ashore, they began to look about for a place where
their fort should be built. The site selected was a
knoll about twelve miles from the mouth of the inlet,
and between Point George on the west and Tonquin
Point on the east. They went about their work with
dogged energy, but not cheerfully. They were glad m
be on shore and free from the tyranny of Captain
Thorn, but saddened by the misfortunes they had
met with— the loss of the men in landing.

Beyond the Old Frontier

Duncan McDougall, an old Northwester, was in
command. He was a man of great experience, but
Ross calls him a man of only ordinary capacity and
unfit to command men. He became famous some years
later by having the credit of conniving with the North-
west Company to swindle Mr. Astor out of most of
his property at Astoria.

The little company that settled down in a new coun-
try amid wholly unaccustomed surroundings had before
it a difficult — almost an impossible — task.

‘‘The place thus selected for the emporium of the
west, might challenge the whole continent to produce
a spot of equal extent presenting more difficulties to
the settler: studded with gigantic trees of almost
incredible size, many of them measuring fifty feet in
girth, and so close together, and intermingled with
huge rocks, as to make it a work of no ordinary labour
to level and clear the ground. With this task before
us, every man, from the highest to the lowest, was
armed with an axe in one hand and a gun in the other;
the former for attacking the woods, the latter for de-
fence against the savage hordes which were constantly
prowling about. In the garb of labourers, and in the
sweat of our brow, we now commenced earning our
bread. In this manner we all kept toiling and tearing
away, from sunrise till sunset — from Monday till
Saturday; and during the nights we kept watch with-
out intermission. . . .

“Many of the party had never handled an axe be-

An Early Fur Trader

fore, and but few of them knew how to use a gun, but
necessity, the mother of invention, soon taught us
both. After placing our guns in some secure place at
hand, and viewing the height and the breadth of the
tree to be cut down, the party, with some labour, would
erect a scaffold round it; this done, four men — for that
was the number appointed to each of those huge trees —
would then mount the scaffold, and commence cutting,
at the height of eight or ten feet from the ground, the
handles of our axes varying, according to circumstances,
from two and a half to five feet in length. At every
other stroke, a look was cast round, to see that all was
safe; but the least rustling among the bushes caused a
general stop; more or less time was thus lost in anxious
suspense. After listening and looking round, the party
resumed their labour, cutting and looking about alter-
nately. In this manner the day would be spent, and
often to little purpose: as night often set in before the
tree begun with in the morning was half cut down.
Indeed, it sometimes required two days, or more, to
fell one tree; but when nearly cut through, it would be
viewed fifty different times, and from as many different
positions, to ascertain where it was likely to fall, and
to warn parties of the danger.’’

The labor that they had undertaken was hard and
unceasing, the climate one of constant rams and fogs,
the food was merely fish and wild roots; the Indians
were so troublesome that in two months three of their
men had been killed by them, others wounded by the

Beyond the Old Frontier

fall of trees, and one had his hand blown off by gun-
powder. All this produced discontent — four men de-
serted and were captured by the Indians, and a little
later six more deserted, but were brought back by a
friendly Indian.

Food and shelter were scanty and poor in quality.
Heretofore all remonstrances to the man in command
had received no attention, but at last even he realized
the situation and distributed tents among the sick, and
made some effort to improve the food.

As time passed and the white men began to learn
something of the Chinook nature, it was discovered that
these people, their immediate neighbors, had been tell-
ing the more distant Indians that the white men were
enemies, just as they had been telling the white people
that these distant tribes were enemies. The result of
this was that the Chinooks were purchasing furs from
the distant tribes and selling them to the traders at a
handsome profit. As soon as this discovery was made,
parties were sent out to learn something of these more
distant tribes, to gain their confidence and to discover
what they could about the country farther off. These
parties, though often in danger, finally succeeded in
establishing friendly relations with those other tribes,
but for a long time the impression given by the Chi-
nooks did not wear off.

It was in May that they laid the foundation of their
first building and named the establishment Astoria,
in honor of the projector of the enterprise. The labor

An Early Fur Trader

of building was extraordinary, for it was impossible
for them to use the enormous trees close to the fort,
and they were obliged to go back into the interior to
find logs small enough for building. These logs were
transported on their shoulders, or dragged along over
the ground, and this last method was so effective that
in six days eight men harnessed as a team brought to
the site all the timber required for a building sixty
feet long by twenty-six feet broad.

On the first of June the “Tonquin” left Astoria for a
trading voyage to the north. She carried with her
most of her cargo, only a little having been landed, the
captain intending to complete the unloading on his
return. A little later the ship was captured by the
Indians and with all on board blown up, and the whole
crew — among them McKay — were lost, and, of course,
the cargo destroyed.

In mid-July the post received a visit from Mr.
Thompson, a Northwester, who came down the Co-
lumbia in a light canoe with a crew of men, chiefly from
Montreal. McDougall received him with great cord-
iality, somewhat to the astonishment of the former
Northwesters, who, now in the service of the Pacific
Fur Company, regarded the Northwesters as rivals,
and so enemies. Toward the end of July a small ex-
pedition, fitted out with the view of establishing a trad-
ing-post in the interior, started up the Columbia River
in company with the returning Mr. Thompson. Un-
derstanding very little about navigation and these new

Beyond the Old Frontier

waters, and as little about the management of the Chi-
nook canoe, the first day of their travel was one of con-
stant toil, striving to avoid the dangers of running
aground on sand-banks and of being thrown on the
shore. During the next few days they passed Bellevue
Point and Point Vancouver, and at the foot of the Cas-
cades they found a great body of Indians waiting for
them to talk and to smoke. The labor of the portage
was extreme, and the Indians played all sorts of tricks
on the white men, evidently trying to see just how far
they would be allowed to go. Here is an example:
“Not being accustomed myself to carry, I had of
course, as well as some others, to stand sentinel; but
seeing the rest almost wearied to death, I took hold of
a roll of tobacco, and after adjusting it on my shoulder,
and holding it fast with one hand, I moved on to ascend
the first bank; at the top of which, however, I stood
breathless, and could proceed no farther. In this awk-
ward plight, I met an Indian, and made signs to him to
convey the tobacco across, and that I would give him
all the buttons on my coat; but he shook his head and
refused. Thinking the fellow did not understand me,
I threw the tobacco down, and pointing to the buttons
one by one, at last he consented, and off he set at a full
trot, and I after him; but just as we had reached his
camp at the other end, he pitched it down a precipice of
two hundred feet in height, and left me to recover it the
best way I could. Off I started after my tobacco; and if
I was out of breath after getting up the first bank, I was

An Early Fur Trader

ten times more so now. During my scrambling among
the rocks to recover my tobacco, not only the wag that
played me the trick, but fifty others, indulged in a
hearty laugh at my expense; but the best of it was, the
fellow came for his payment, and wished to get not only
the buttons but the coat along with them. I was for
giving him — what he richly deserved — buttons of
another mould; but peace in our present situation was
deemed the better policy: so the rogue got the buttons,
and we saw him no more.’’

At the end of the month Thompson left them to
hurry on eastward, and in the first days of August they
reached a point on the river where they met horse
Indians in considerable numbers. With these people
they arranged to have the goods carried over the port-
age, and the Indians accepted the offer, and were so
swift to do it that ''in less than ten minutes after the
whole cavalcade, goods and all, disappeared, leaving us
standing in suspense and amazement.” However, at
the other end of the portage the property was found
safe and the chiefs were guarding it. Nevertheless,
that night was passed by the traders in some alarm, but
the danger, whatever it was, was put off when they per-
suaded the chiefs of the Indians to come and sit within
their circle, and to harangue to their people during
the night.

This portage was nine miles long, and, although theli
goods had been transported, the canoes and the canoe
tackle, boats, and cooking utensils remained to be car-

i6 Beyond the Old Frontier

ried over. Four times daily they had to make this
journey, heavily loaded, under a burning sun.

The main camp of the Indians here was fully occu-
pied only during the salmon season, at which time it
held about three thousand people, but the constant in-
habitants did not exceed one hundred persons, whom
Ross called Wy-am-pams, a tribe of Shahaptin stock.
These horse Indians were without doubt Nez-Perces or
their representatives.

The traders had no choice of roads in getting into
the country; and in following up the Columbia River
they followed the course of the salmon, on which the
Indians depended for food, and came to camp after
camp of people, many of whom had never before seen
white men. By August 8 they had trouble. The
canoes, sailing with a fair wind, were overtaken by a
squall, and everything was wet. Very incautiously
they commenced to spread out these wet things to dry
them, and were at once surrounded by covetous Indians.
They lost no time in bundling their stuff together and
putting it into the canoes, and, ‘‘in order to amuse for a
moment, and to attract the attention of the crowd, I laid
hold of an axe, and set it up at the distance of eighty
yards, then taking up my rifle, drove a ball through
it.” This manoeuvre was successful, and while the
Indians were staring at the marvel the canoes got off.
Near the mouth of the Walla Walla the traders dis-
covered a large body of men coming toward them,
all armed and painted and preceded by three chiefs.

An Early Fur Trader

who made elaborate speeches and smoked with them.
These were various tribes of Shahaptin stock, fine peo-
ple, well dressed and possessed of many horses, four
thousand being within sight of the camp. They were
extremely friendly, and their chief, now and at later
times, was helpful to the traders.

The next day they came to the point where the two
main forks of the Columbia join — Clark’s Fork on the
north and Lewis Fork on the south — and there in the
midst of the Indian camp stood a British flag, planted by
Mr. Thompson, who had laid claim to the country north
of the forks as British territory. He had left with the
Indians a paper forbidding the subjects of other countries
to trade north of this point, and the Indians seemed
disposed to uphold this order. The Astorians wished to
go up Clark’s Fork, and in the afternoon the chiefs held
a council, at which Ross and Stuart were present, and
consent to go forward was gained. The people were
friendly, and Tummatapam, the chief before alluded
to, was a kindly man and seemed really to like the
fur traders, who treated him very well.

Journeying up the North Fork, they were overtaken
after a time by three mounted Walla Walla Indians,
who gave them a bag of shot which they had left be-
hind at their encampment of the night before; but on
this day they saw only a few Indians and set no guard
at night. The next day they were early afloat.

‘"On the 17th, we were paddling along at daylight.
On putting on shore to breakfast, four Indians on horse-

Beyond the Old Frontier

back joined us. The moment they alighted, one set
about hobbling their horses, another to gather small
sticks, a third to make a fire, and the fourth to catch
fish. For this purpose, the fisherman cut off a bit of
his leathern shirt, about the size of a small bean; then
pulling out two or three hairs from his horse’s tail for a
line, tied the bit of leather to one end of it, in place of
a hook or fly. Thus prepared, he entered the river a
little way, sat down on a stone and began throwing the
small fish, three or four inches long, on shore, just as
fast as he pleased; and while he was thus employed,
another picked them up and threw them towards the
fire while the third stuck them up round it in a circle, on
small sticks; and they were no sooner up than roasted.
The fellows then sitting down, swallowed them — heads,
tails, bones, guts, fins, and all, in no time, just as one
would swallow the yolk of an egg. Now all this was
but the work of a few minutes; and before our man
had his kettle ready for the fire, the Indians were
already eating their breakfast. When the fish had hold
of the bit of wet leather, or bait, their teeth got en-
tangled in it, so as to give time to jerk them on
shore, which was to us a new mode of angling; fire
produced by the friction of two bits of wood was also
a novelty; but what surprised us most of all, was the
regularity with which they proceeded, and the quick-
ness of the whole process, which actually took them
less time to perform, than it has taken me to note it
down.''

An Early Fur Trader

A little later in the day came a pathetic example of
the simplicity of the Indians and their extraordinary
belief in the powers of the strange white people, when
their parents brought to the fur-traders two dead chil-
dren and asked that they restore them to life, for which
favor a horse was to be given. At Priest Rapids the
travellers were met by a large throng of Indians who
were perfectly friendly, smoked with them, and per-
formed the usual friendly acts of singing and dancing.
The journey up the river continued to be strenuous, for
the current was swift and the rapids many. Horses
were plentiful here and the Indians were eager to sell
them, but the traders, travelling by canoe, had no pos-
sible use for them and declined to purchase any more.
A day or two after passing the Pisscow River, “the ibex,
the white musk goat,” is mentioned, one of the early
references to this species, and speaking of one of its
striking characters. Now soon they met with Indians
who had in their possession a gun, tobacco, and some
other articles which they said had been purchased from
white people, no doubt a party of Northwesters.
The first of September had come, and it was now time
to look out for winter-quarters, if buildings were to be
erected which could be occupied during the winter.
The situation chosen was near the mouth of the
Oakinacken — Okanagan — River at the end of a range of
high, rocky, wooded hills. Here a small dwelling-house
was begun, but before it was finished four men were
sent back to Astoria, and four others set off for the

Beyond the Old Frontier

head-waters of the Okanagan^ while Ross himself and
one small dog called Weasel remained to hold the fort.

We may imagine that his situation was an uncom-
fortable one, and he fully appreciated its horrors, “alone
in this unhallowed wilderness, without friend or white
man within hundreds of miles of me, surrounded by
savages who had never seen a white man, where every
day seemed a week, every night a month. I pined, I
languished, my head turned gray, and in a brief space
ten years were added to my age. Yet man is born to
endure, and my only consolation was in my Bible.”

As soon as the others were gone Ross began to patch
up the house and put the few goods left him into a kind
of cellar which he made; then he set to work to learn
the language of the Indians, and wrote vocabulary after
vocabulary. The task was hard and wearisome, but
his progress was encouraging.

A crowd of inquisitive Indians visited the place to
see this lonely white man. Ross associated with them,
traded with them, and at last began to talk to them
and finally to comprehend their speech, but the even-
ings were long and the winter dreary. Each night he
primed his gun and pistol and barricaded his door, and
the kindly Indians always left the house at dusk. On
the other hand, the Indians themselves feared attacks
by enemies, and often gave him to understand that
there was danger.

“One night I was suddenly awakened out my sleep

^Variously spelled to-day, Okanagan, Okinagan, and Okanogan.

An Early Fur Trader

by the unusual noise and continual barking of Weasel,
running backwards and forwards through the house.
Half asleep, half awake, I felt greatly agitated and
alarmed. My faithful gun and pistol were at hand, for
they lay always at my side in bed; but then all was
dark, I could see nothing, could hear nothing but
the barking of Weasel, which was continually growing
louder and louder. I then thought there must be some-
body in the house; for I was ready to put the worst
construction on appearances. In this perplexing di-
lemma I got my hand, with as little noise as possible,
to the muzzle of my gun, and gradually drawing out
the ramrod, tried, with my right arm stretched out, to
stir up the embers, so that I might see; but here again
a new danger presented itself; I was exposing myself as
a mark to a ball or an arrow, without the chance of
defending myself, for the light would show me to the
enemy before I could see my object; but there was no
alternative, and something must be done. Between
hope and despair I managed to stir up the ashes, so
that I could see little Weasel running to and fro to the
cellar-door. I concluded that the enemy must be
skulking in the cellar. I then, but not without diffi-
culty, got a candle lighted. Holding the candle in my
left hand, I laid hold of my pistol. With the lynx-eye
and wary step of a cat ready to pounce on its prey, I
advanced rather obliquely, with my right arm stretched
out at full length holding the cocked pistol, till I got
to the cellar-door, the little dog all the while making a

22 Beyond the Old Frontier

furious noise; when, lo! what was there but a skunk sit-
ting on a roll of tobacco! The shot blew it almost to
atoms, and so delicately perfumed everything in the
house that I was scarcely able to live in it for days
afterwards; but that was not all, the trivial incident
was productive of very bad consequences. Several
hundreds of Indians being encamped about the place
at the time, no sooner did they see the light, or hear
the shot, than they all rushed into the house, thinking
something serious had happened. So far, however,
there were no great harm; but when they beheld two
rolls of tobacco and two small bales of goods, it ap-
peared such wealth in their eyes that they could
scarcely recover from the surprise. These tempting
articles I had endeavored all along to keep as much
as possible out of their sight, and dealt them out with
a sparing hand, and as long as the Indians did not see
them in bulk all went well; but after the overwhelming
exhibition of so much property there was no satisfying
them. They became importunate and troublesome for
some time, and caused me much anxiety. The time
fixed for Mr. Stuart’s return had now arrived, and I
most anxiously looked for him every hour. Often had
I reason to curse the intrusion of the skunk into my
house. After some time, however, things settled down
again to their usual level, and good order and good
feelings were again renewed between us.”

Stuart did not come, and the Indians became more
bold, and loitered about the place. Strange Indians

An Early Fur Trader

were constantly arriving, and the Indians held fre-
quent councils. Ross called a feast and gave the In-
dians a reason for Stuart’s absence, suggesting that
they should go to work and bring in furs, in order that
when the goods came they might have something with
which to buy them. Stuart was gone for 188 days,
and finally returned March 22, 1812. During his ab-
sence Ross had secured 1,550 beaver, besides other furs,
worth in the Canton market 2,250 pounds sterling and
costing in the merchandise which had been exchanged
for them only 35 pounds sterling — “a specimen of our
trade among the Indians!”

Stuart had gone north to the head of the Okanagan
and had crossed over to the south branch of the Fraser
River and met ‘‘a powerful nation called the She
Whaps.” There he had been detained by snow and
had wintered with these people, among whom he had
arranged to establish a trading-post. From the post
at the mouth of the river came bad news. The little
schooner “Dolly,” the frame of which had been sent
out to Astoria in the “Tonquin,” was too small to be
of any particular service, and being manned by peo-
ple without much knowledge of seamanship was un-
lucky from the beginning, and was finally abandoned as
useless for the purpose of getting about. There was
complaint also of the quality of the trade goods sent
out by Mr. Astor, but of all the news that came to
the people up the river the most important was the
rumor that the “Tonquin” had been destroyed with

24 Beyond the Old Frontier

all on board. The story of this destruction, as told
by Ross Cox, was given in an earlier volume.’ Not
many tears were shed over the death of Captain Thorn
at Astoria, we may feel sure, but that McKay should
have been lost was a real sorrow and a genuine mis-
fortune, for McKay was a man of great experience
and of extraordinary force.

In the meantime, Wilson Price Hunt, AstoFs chief
assistant, Donald McKenzie, and later Ramsay Crooks,
started from St. Louis to make the journey overland
to the coast. The original purpose was to strike the
upper reaches of the Columbia River and go down that
stream in canoes, but, as the courses and character of
the river were wholly unknown, all sorts of difficulties
were encountered, and the canoes were at last aban-
doned; the expedition split up into different parties,
and a number of men were lost. At last McKenzie
reached Astoria January lo, 1812, while Hunt’s party
arrived in February.

At the end of March parties left Astoria, one under
Mr. Reed for New York overland, another under Mr.
Farnham to search for the goods left en cache by Hunt
on his journey, and a third under Robert Stuart to
Okanagan with supplies for that post. These all
started together under the command of Mr. Stuart.
At the Long Narrows they got into difficulties with
the Indians, and McLellan killed two Indians and the
others fled. Trouble was threatening, but peace was at

^ Trails of the Pathfinders^ p. 304.

An Early Fur Trader

last secured by the gift of six blankets and some other
trifles. In the melee the despatches which Reed was
taking to New York were lost, and when they were
lost that expedition was at an end.

A little later they were hailed in English by some
one asking them to come on shore, and when they
reached the bank they found standing, ‘Mike two
spectres,” Crooks and John Day, who had been left
among the Snake Indians by Mr. Hunt the preceding
autumn. The story told by these two men was pa-
thetic enough. They were starving most of the time,
lived largely on roots, had been robbed of rifles, and
would inevitably have perished had it not been for a
good old man who treated them like a father — killed
a horse to make dried meat for them, and was about
to start them out on the journey to St. Louis that
very day, when the canoes hove in sight.

Mr. Stuart rewarded the old man to whom these
men owed their lives, took them along with him
and , returned to Astoria, where they found the com-
pany’s ship “Beaver” just arriving with a supply of
goods and reinforcements of men. It was now May,
and a number of the partners being at Astoria it was
determined that David Stuart should return to Okan-
agan, work to the north, and establish another post be-
tween that and New Caledonia, that McKenzie should
winter on Snake River, that Clark should winter at
Spokane, that Robert Stuart should go overland to
St. Louis with despatches for Mr. Astor, and that Mr.

Beyond the Old Frontier

Hunt should go with the “Beaver” to the Russian set-
tlements to the north. Sixty-two persons left Astoria
for the interior on the 29th of June, it having been
determined that all the land parties should travel to-
gether as far as the forks of the Columbia, where
Lewis River and Clark River come together. These
land parties were under the command of Mr. Clark.
Nothing happened until they reached the Cascades,
where a few arrows were shot at them, but at
the Long Narrows the Indians were numerous and
threatening. Mr. Clark, although usually a man of
nerve, seems to have been frightened by this de-
monstration, and it required the determination of
McKenzie and David Stuart to induce him to go for-
ward. They got through the pass without molesta-
tion or loss.

In looking about through an Indian camp, McKen-
zie and Stuart saw in a lodge of one of the chiefs the
rifle that had been taken away from Mr. Reed when he
was wounded, and they were determined to have it.
As soon as the Narrows had been safely passed, Mc-
Kenzie took eight men and went direct to the chiefs
lodge. He put four men at the door and with the
other four entered and asked for the stolen rifle. The
chief denied that it was in his lodge. McKenzie asked
for it again and said he was determined to have it, and
when it was not given up, he took his knife and began
to turn over and cut up everything that came in his
way and at last discovered the rifle, and after scolding

An Early Fur Trader

the chief returned to the canoes. No time was wasted,
and the Indians, though gathering in crowds, did noth-
ing. The next day they camped at a point where
Crooks and John Day had been robbed of their arms.
The Indians were friendly enough, and among those
who flocked about the white men was the one who had
taken John Day’s rifle. He was at once captured and
tied up, but a little later was set free.

At Walla Walla, Robert Stuart purchased ten horses
from the Nez-Perces and set out for St. Louis with
five men, including Messrs. Crooks and McLellan, who
had resigned from the company. David Stuart went
up the Okanagan, and Ross remained at the post at
its mouth, a Scotchman and a French Canadian being
with him. Later, Ross followed Robert Stuart’s route
of the previous winter, got to the She Whaps, and estab-
lished a good trade. They paid five leaves of tobacco
for a beaver skin, and at last when their goods were
exhausted and Ross had only one yard of white cotton
remaining, one of the chiefs gave him twenty prime
beaver skins for it.

This trading station was at what Ross calls Come-
loups — of course, the Kamloops of our day.

On his return from this trip, Ross was formally ap-
pointed to the post of Okanagan, although, as a matter
of fact, he had been in charge of it since its establish-
ment. In early December he went to Fort Spokane,
where he met Mr. Clark, who was in charge of a post
there, and an opposition post of the Northwest Cot^

Beyond the Old Frontier

pany was close by. The politics and secret quarrels
of the two companies, each striving to get the most
fur, were constant — and, of course, were not hidden
from the Indians, who in every way strove to play on
the traders tricks similar to those played on them.
Ross left Spokane Fort a few days later, and on his
way home had one of those experiences that so often
came to travellers in those old days and that have so
often proved fatal.

“In the evening of the 13th, not far from home, as
we were ascending a very steep hill, at the top of which
is a vast plain, I and my man had to walk, leaving our
horses to shift for themselves, and climb up as they
could; and so steep and intricate were the windings
that I had to throw off my coat, which, together with
my gun, I laid on one of the pack-horses. The moment
we reached the top, and before we could gather our
horses or look about us, we were overtaken by a tre-
mendous cold snow storm; the sun became instantly
obscured, and the wind blew a hurricane. We were
taken by surprise. I immediately called out to the
men to shift for themselves, and let the horses do the
same. Just at this moment I accidentally came in
contact with one of the loaded horses, for such was
the darkness that we could not see three feet ahead;
but, unfortunately, it was not the horse on which I
had laid my coat and gun. I instantly cut the tyings,
threw off the load, and mounting on the pack-saddle,
rode off at full speed through the deep snow, in the

An Early Fur Trader

hopes of reaching a well-known place of shelter not
far olh; but in the darkness and confusion I missed the
place, and at last got so benumbed with cold that I
could ride no farther; and, besides, my horse was
almost exhausted. In this plight I dismounted and
took to walking, in order to warm myself. But no
place of shelter was to be found. Night came on; the
storm increased in violence; my horse gave up; and I
myself was so exhausted, wandering through the deep
snow, that I could go no further. Here I halted,
unable to decide what to do. My situation appeared
desperate: without my coat; without my gun; without
even a fire-steel. In such a situation I must perish.
At last I resolved on digging a hole in the snow; but
in trying to do so, I was several times in danger of
being suffocated with the drift and eddy. In this di-
lemma I unsaddled my horse, which stood motionless
as a statue in the snow. I put the saddle under me,
and the saddle-cloth, about the size of a handkerchief,
round my shoulders, then squatted down in the dismal
hole, more likely to prove my grave than a shelter.
On entering the hole I said to myself, ‘ Keep awake and
live; sleep and die.’ I had not been long, however,
in this dismal burrow before the cold, notwithstanding
my utmost exertions to keep my feet warm, gained so
fast upon me that I was obliged to take off my shoes,
then pull my trousers, by little and little, over my
feet, till at last I had the waistband round my toes:
and all would not do. I was now reduced to the last

Beyond the Old Frontier

shift, and tried to keep my feet warm at the risk of
freezing my body. At last I had scarcely strength to
move a limb; the cold was gaining fast upon me; and
the inclination to sleep almost overcame me. In this
condition I passed the whole night; nor did the morn-
ing promise me much relief; yet I thought it offered me
a glimpse of hope, and that hope induced me to en-
deavour to break out of my snowy prison. I tried, but
in vain, to put on my frozen shoes; I tried again and
again before I could succeed. I then dug my saddle
out of the snow, and after repeated efforts, reached
the horse and put the saddle on; but could not myself
get into the saddle. Ten o’clock next day came
before there was any abatement of the storm, and
when it did clear up a little I knew not where I was;
still it was cheering to see the storm abate. I tried
again to get into the saddle; and when I at last suc-
ceeded, my half frozen horse refused to carry me, for
he could scarcely lift a leg. I then alighted and
tried to walk; but the storm broke out again with
redoubled violence. I saw no hope of saving myself
but to kill the horse, open him, and get into his body,
and I drew my hunting-knife for the purpose; but
then it occurred to me that the body would freeze, and
that I could not, in that case, extricate myself. I
therefore abandoned the idea, laid my knife by, and
tried again to walk, and again got into the saddle.
The storm now abating a little, my horse began to
move; and I kept wandering about through the snow

An Early Fur Trader

till three o’clock in the afternoon, when the storm
abated altogether; and the sun coming out, I recog-
nized my position. I was then not two miles from
my own house, where I arrived at dusk; and it was
high time, for I could not have gone much farther;
and after all it was my poor horse that saved me, for
had I set out on foot, I should never, in my exhausted
condition, have reached the house.”

A little later he made another winter journey of
great discomfort, suffering much from cold and hun-
ger. His return to Okanagan was down what Ross
calls the Sa-mick-a-meigh River,^ a region which
twenty-five or thirty years ago abounded in mountain
sheep and was often visited by Eastern sportsmen.

In his account of the journey of Mr. Clarke and his
party to Spokane, made the August previous, Ross
gives an account of the loss and recovery of Ross Cox,
which that author has himself told in detail in his
book referred to in a previous volume.^ Ross treats
the adventure somewhat lightly, although he does re-
mark that when he was at Spokane in the winter Cox
had hardly recovered yet.

It was the next spring that Clarke, an old North-
wester, who might have known better, committed the
grave indiscretion of hanging an Indian who had stolen
a silver goblet but afterward returned it. It was not
until the deed had been done and the angry Indians
had disappeared to carry the news in all directions and

^ Simllkameen. ^ Trails of the Pathfinders, p. 313.

Beyond the Old Frontier

to assemble surrounding tribes to take revenge on the
white men that Clarke appreciated what he had done.
Fortunately the people were all packed up ready to
start, and they hastily loaded their canoes and went on
down the stream.

McKenzie, in the meantime, had reached the middle
of the Nez Perces country and was wintering there, but
he soon found that he was not in a trapping country.
The Nez Perces hunted buffalo for food and went to
war for glory. They did not like beaver trapping and
made a poor trade. Now, McKenzie while on a visit
to Fort Spokane learned from McTavish, a North-
wester, of the war between Great Britain and the
United States. He hurried back to his post there, put
his goods in cache, and set out for Astoria, which he
reached in 1813. At Astoria things were not cheer-
ful. The ship had not returned, and McDougall and
McKenzie felt that they were likely to be pushed out
of the country by the Northwesters. However, Mc-
Kenzie turned about and started up the river. When
he reached his post he found that his cache had been
raised. The older Indians admitted the robbery, and
said that it had been done by young men whom they
could not control. McKenzie was a man of great
courage, and when the chiefs would not assist him in
recovering his property he determined to recover it
himself.

“Accordingly next morning, after depositing in a
safe place the few articles he had brought with him,

An Early Fur Trader

he and his little band, armed cap-a-pie, set out on foot
for the camp. On their approach, the Indians, sus-
pecting something, turned out in groups here and there,
also armed. But McKenzie, without a moment’s hes-
itation, or giving them time to reflect, ordered Mr.
Seaton, who commanded the men, to surround the
first wigwam or lodge reached with charged bayonets,
while he himself and Mr. Reed entered the lodge, ran-
sacked it, turning everything topsy-turvy, and with
their drawn daggers cutting and ripping open every-
thing that might be supposed to conceal the stolen
property. In this manner they went from one lodge
to another till they had searched five or six with vari-
ous success, when the chiefs demanded a parley, and
gave McKenzie to understand that if he desisted they
would do the business themselves, and more effectually.
McKenzie, after some feigned reluctance, at last agreed
to the chiefs’ proposition. They then asked him to
withdraw; but this he peremptorily refused, knowing
from experience that they were least exposed in the
camp; for Indians are always averse to hostilities tak-
ing place in their camp, in the midst of their women
and children. Had the Indians foreseen or been aware
of the intention of the whites, they would never have
allowed them within their camp. But they were taken
by surprise, and that circumstance saved the whites.
However, as soon as the chiefs undertook the business,
McKenzie and his men stood still and looked on. The
chiefs went from house to house, and after about three

Beyond the Old Frontier

hours time they returned, bringing with them a large
portion of the property, and delivered it to McKenzie,
when he and his men left the camp and returned home,
bearing off in triumph the fruits of their valour; and
well pleased with their hairbreadth adventure; an ad-
venture not to be repeated. And under all circum-
stances, it was at the time considered the boldest step
ever taken by the whites on Columbian ground.’’

However, the Indians determined to get even with
McKenzie, and they did this by refusing to sell the
horses which were absolutely necessary to the fur
traders, since horses were the only food available, for
they were not in a position to go out and run buffalo.
McKenzie later got the best of them by this plan:
When the whites had nothing to eat, the articles usu-
ally paid for a horse were tied up in a bundle; this done,
McKenzie, with ten or twelve of his men, would sally
forth with their rifles to the grazing ground of the
horses, shoot the fattest they could find, and carry off
the flesh to their camp, leaving the price stuck up on
a pole alongside the head of the dead horse.

“This manoeuvre succeeded several times, and an-
noyed the Indians very much; some of them lost their
best horses by it. Then it was that they combined to
attack the whites in their camp. This news was brought
McKenzie by one of his hired spies, and was confirmed
by the fact of an Indian offering to sell a horse for
powder and ball only. From various other suspicious
circumstances there remained but little doubt in the

ASSINIBOINE-PIEGAN BATTLE BEFORE THE WALLS OF FORT MACKENZIE

An Early Fur Trader

minds of the whites but that there was some dark de-
sign in agitation. In this critical conjuncture, Mc-
Kenzie again eluded their grasp by ensconcing himself
and his party in an island in the middle of the river.
There they remained, in a manner blockaded by the
Indians; but not so closely watched but that they ap-
peared every now and then with their long rifles among
the Shahaptian horses; so that the Indians grew tired
of their predatory excursions, and therefore sent a mes-
senger to McKenzie. A parley ensued between the
main land and the island; the result of which was, that
the Indians agreed to sell horses to the whites at the
usual price — the whites, on their part, to give up their
marauding practices.”

The trade in horses now went on briskly, although
McKenzie regarded the Indians with much suspicion.
He procured food and bought eighty horses, which he
sent ofF to Spokane. It was about this time that news
came to them of Mr. Clark’s ill-advised punishment
of the Indians. There was but one opinion among the
traders, and they pursued the only possible course:
took to their canoes, and went down the river to Astoria.

The journeyings of the party which had started over-
land to St. Louis the summer before were difficult
enough. They starved and travelled, and travelled
and starved; crossed the mountains, and wintered on
their eastern flanks, and finally reached St. Louis
April 30.

Mr. Hunt, after trading along the coast of Russian

Beyond the Old Frontier

America, went to the Sandwich Islands and then to
Canton. On his return Mr. Hunt waited for a time
at the Sandwich Islands, hoping that a ship from New
York might come to the relief of Astoria. He waited
in vain, and finally chartering the ship ‘‘Albatross” he
reached Astoria in August.

The war between Great Britain and the United
States had led the Northwest Fur Company to believe
that before long they could get possession of Astoria,
and thus hold the whole trade on the Pacific coast,
except that of the Russians. The Northwesters Mc-
Tavish and Stuart were on their way to the mouth
of the Columbia to meet the ship “Isaac Tod,” which
was daily expected, and the Astorians had no means
of defence. They could fight off the Northwesters, of
course, but if a ship with guns came they would be
helpless. McDougall seemed to have been quite will-
ing to give up the post and to sell the furs to the
Northwesters, and before long this took place. Mc-
Dougall has generally been charged with secretly agree-
ing to swindle Mr. Astor by fixing absurdly low prices
on the furs and goods. At all events, all of the goods
on hand, wherever stationed, were delivered to the
Northwest Company at ten per cent on cost and
charges, while the furs were valued at so much per
skin. Ross declared that the transaction was con-
sidered fair and equitable on both sides, but other men
who were there speak of it in quite a different way.
The Indians, who for the past year or two had declared

An Early Fur Trader 37

themselves the firm friends of the fur traders, still
wished to defend these friends from the attacks of their
enemies. Old Come Comly even professed to be anx-
ious to fight for them, but when the sloop-of-war
“Raccoon” came into Baker’s Bay the Indian chief
wholly changed his attitude, and declared that he was
glad that he had lived long enough to see a great
ship of his brother King George enter the river. He
received a drink of wine, a flag, coat, hat, and sword,
and became wholly British.

Captain Black, of the “Raccoon,” and his ship’s
company had hoped to capture Astoria with all its
furs — a rich prize — and he was much disappointed
when he found that all these things had been sold to
the Northwest Company by amicable agreement.

In the spring of 1814 Mr. Hunt, accompanied by
several members of the Astoria party, took their
final departure from Fort George. A number of those
who had been Astorians, when freed from their con-
tracts or agreements by Mr. Hunt, again took service
with the Northwest Company, most of them receiv-
ing such work as they were qualified to perform. Ross
was put in charge of the post at Okanagan, as he had
been under the Pacific Fur Company. Stationed here
now for some time, he gives an excellent picture of the
life, and especially good accounts of the manners,
ways, and customs of the Indians, and, with an inter-
esting Chinook vocabulary and a table of weather at
the mouth of the Columbia, closes the volume.

Beyond the Old Frontier

As an account of the Astor project to control the
fur trade of the Pacific coast and of the difficulties of
establishing a trading post among the Indians of the
Columbia River, the book is of extreme interest.

FUR HUNTERS OF THE FAR WEST

WITH THE NORTHWEST FUR COMPANY

AFTER the downfall of the Pacific Fur Com-
^ pany, the occupation of Astoria by the North-
westers, and the change of its name to Fort
George, Ross took service with the Northwest Com-
pany. It is life as a fur trader with the Northwest
Company that he describes in his book The Fur Hunt-
ers of the Far West. In point of time, these volumes
precede most of the books on the far western fur
trade, and they give faithful and interesting accounts
of the conditions met with at the time. Ross’s books,
in fact, are foundation stones for any history of the
settlement of the Northwest. Although the books
were not written until long after the period of which
they treat — for the preface of this work is dated June i,
1854, while the book was published the next year —
Ross must have kept full diaries of his goings and com-
ings, for in most of his dates he is exact, and his
narrative is full of details that would almost cer-
tainly have slipped from an unaided memory.

In his new service Ross discovered that matters were

Beyond the Old Frontier

now in charge of men who knew very little about the
Indians of the Pacific coast, and who lightly regarded
those persons who had been in the service of Mr.
Astor, whom they called Yankees. The new-comers
had much to learn.

One of the first acts of the Northwest Company
was to despatch an expedition of twenty men, in charge
of Messrs. Keith and Alexander Stuart, to report to
Fort William, on Lake Superior, the news of the acqui-
sition of Astoria by the' Northwest Company. On
reaching the Cascades of the Columbia they were
attacked by a large number of Indians, and Mr. Stuart
was wounded. Two Indians were killed, and the expe-
dition returned to Fort George. The attack caused
great indignation there, and an extraordinary expedi-
tion was fitted out to punish the Indians. Eighty-five
picked men and two Chinook interpreters constituted
the force; and besides the ordinary arms carried in the
West they had ‘Two great guns, six swivels, cutlasses,
hand grenades, and hand knives.’'

As the expedition passed along up the river, it struck
terror to the hearts of the Indians, while it is said that
“the two Chinook interpreters could neither sleep nor
eat, so grieved were they at the thoughts of the
bloody scenes that were to be enacted.”

The people who were to be punished, however —
the Cath-le-yach-e-yach, a Chinookan tribe living be-
low the Cascades — were not all frightened, and when
they were required to deliver up the property taken

Fur Hunters of the Far West

from Keith and Stuart, they declared themselves ready
to do so, but not until after the whites had delivered
to them those who had killed two of their people.
They sent off their women and children into the forest
and prepared to fight. There were multitudinous
parleys lasting for three or four days, at the end of
which time the whites, regarding discretion as the
better part of valor, “without recovering the prop-
erty, firing a gun, or securing a single prisoner, sounded
a retreat and returned home on the ninth day, having
made matters ten times worse than they were before.”

The expedition was much derided by the Indians,
and the white people who took part in it were extremely
mortified about it. The situation was really one of
war, and when a short time afterward the Northwest
brigade departed for the interior, the Indians at the
Cascades did not come near to the camp nor in any
degree interrupt their progress.

Consulted by McDonald, who was in charge of the
Columbia trade, Ross had urged on him the impor-
tance of taking the “usual precautions” in travelling
up the river. Nevertheless, no guard was set at night,
and an alarm taking place, people jumped up and
began to fire their guns at random and one of the men
was shot dead. There seems no reason to suppose
that there were actually any Indians in the camp.

At Fort Okanagan the expedition passed on, leaving
Ross behind in charge of the post. He was now in a
prairie country where horses were absolutely essential

44 Beyond the Old Frontier

to travel, and no horses were to be had nearer than
Eyakema valley, two hundred miles away, where the
horse Indians, Cayuses, Nez Perces, and other warlike
tribes encamped each spring, to collect the roots of
the camas. Here horses were plenty, but, as it was
a great camp occupied by many different tribes, to
visit it was to incur some danger. However, Ross
took a few trade goods and set out with three men,
young McKay and two French Canadians, these last
taking with them their Indian wives, to assist in the
care of the horses.

It was an anxious time, and the perplexities of the
journey were not lessened when, on the fourth night
after leaving Okanagan, the chief of the Pisscows
tribe, who had learned where Ross was going, sent two
men to urge him to turn back, declaring that if they
did not do so they were all dead men. However, Ross
determined to go on; as he puts it, “I had risked my
life there for the Americans, I could now do no less
for the North-West Company; so with deep regret the
friendly couriers left us and returned, and with no less
reluctance we proceeded.”

On the sixth day after leaving the fort they reached
the valley, where they found a great camp, of which
they could see the beginning, but not the end. It
must have contained not less than 3,000 men, exclusive
of women and children, and three times that number of
horses. Everywhere was seen the active life of these
primitive people. Councils were being held, women

Fur Hunters of the Far West

were gathering roots, men were hunting. Horse rac-
ing, games, singing, dancing, drumming, yelling, and
a thousand other things were going on. The noise and
confusion are hardly to be described; but the interest
and the beauty of the scene could not have been ap-
preciated by these men, who were carrying their lives
in their hands and marching into danger.

‘‘Our reception was cool, the chiefs were hostile and
sullen, they saluted us in no very flattering accents.
‘These are the men,’ said they, ‘who kill our relations,
the people who have caused us to mourn.’ And here,
for the first time, I regretted we had not taken advice
in time, and returned with the couriers, for the general
aspect of things was against us. It was evident we
stood on slippery ground; we felt our weakness. In
all sudden and unexpected rencontres with hostile In-
dians, the first impulse is generally a tremor or sensa-
tion of fear, but that soon wears olT; it was so with
myself at this moment, for after a short interval I
nerved myself to encounter the worst.

“The moment we dismounted, we were surrounded,
and the savages, giving two or three war-whoops and
yells, drove the animals we had ridden out of our sight;
this of itself was a hostile movement. We had to
judge from appearances, and be guided by circum-
stances. My first care was to try and direct their
attention to something new, and to get rid of the
temptation there was to dispose of my goods; so with-
out a moment’s delay, I commenced a trade in horses;

46 Beyond the Old Frontier

but every horse I bought during that and the follow-
ing day, as well as those we had brought with us, were
instantly driven out of sight, in the midst of yelling
and jeering: nevertheless, I continued to trade while
an article remained, putting the best face on things I
could, and taking no notice of their conduct, as no
insult or violence had as yet been offered to ourselves
personally. Two days and nights had now elapsed
since our arrival, without food or sleep; the Indians
refused us the former, our own anxiety deprived us of
the latter.

“During the third day I discovered that the two
women were to have been either killed or taken from us
and made slaves. So surrounded were we for miles
on every side, that we could not stir unobserved; yet
we had to devise some means for their escape, and to
get them clear of the camp was a task of no ordinary
difficulty and danger. In this critical conjuncture,
however, something had to be done, and that without
delay. One of them had a child at the breast, which
increased the difficulty. To attempt sending them
back by the road they came, would have been sacrific-
ing them. To attempt an unknown path through the
rugged mountains, however doubtful the issue, appeared
the only prospect that held out a glimpse of hope;
therefore, to this mode of escape I directed their atten-
tion. As soon as it was dark, they set out on their for-
lorn adventure without food, guide, or protection, to
make their way home, under a kind Providence!

Fur Hunters of the Far West

“'You are to proceed/ said I to them, ‘due north,
cross the mountains, and keep in that direction till
you fall on the Pisscows River; take the first canoe you
find, and proceed with all diligence down to the mouth
of it and there await our arrival. But if we are not
there on the fourth day,you may proceed to Oakanagan,
and tell your story.’ With these instructions we parted ;
and with but little hopes of our ever meeting again.
I had no sooner set about getting the women oft‘, than
the husbands expressed a wish to accompany them;
the desire was natural, yet I had to oppose it. This
state of things distracted my attention: my eyes had
now to be on my own people as well as on the Indians,
as I was apprehensive they would desert. ‘There is
no hope for the women by going alone,’ said the hus-
bands, ‘no hope for us by remaining here: we might
as well be killed in the attempt to escape, as remain
to be killed here.’ ‘No,’ said I, ‘by remaining here
we do our duty; by going we should be deserting our
duty.’ To this remonstrance they made no reply.
The Indians soon perceived that they had been out-
witted. They turned over our baggage, and searched
in every hole and corner. Disappointment creates ill
humor: it was so with the Indians. They took the
men’s guns out of their hands, fired them off at their
feet, and then, with savage laughter, laid them down
again; took their hats off their heads, and after strut-
ting about with these for some time, jeeringly gave
them back to their owners: all this time, they never

Beyond the Old Frontier

interfered with me, but I felt that every insult offered
to my men was an indirect insult offered to myself.

“The day after the women went off, I ordered one
of the men to try and cook something for us; for hitherto
we had eaten nothing since our arrival, except a few
raw roots which we managed to get unobserved. But
the kettle was no sooner on the fire than five or six
spears bore off, in savage triumph, the contents: they
even emptied out the water, and threw the kettle on
one side; and this was no sooner done than thirty or
forty ill-favored wretches fired a volley in the embers
before us, which caused a cloud of smoke and ashes
to ascend, darkening the air around us: a strong hint
not to put the kettle any more on the fire, and we
took it.

“At this time the man who had put the kettle on the
fire took the knife with which he had cut the venison
to lay it by, when one of the Indians, called Eyacktana,
a bold and turbulent chief, snatched it out of his hand;
the man, in an angry tone, demanded his knife, saying
to me, ‘I’ll have my knife from the villain, life or
death.’ ‘No,’ said I. The chief, seeing the man angry,
threw down his robe, and grasping the knife in his fist,
with the point downwards, raised his arm, making a
motion in advance as if he intended using it. The
crisis had now arrived ! At this moment there was a
dead silence. The Indians were flocking in from all
quarters: a dense crowd surrounded us. Not a mo-
ment was to be lost; delay would be fatal, and nothing

Fur Hunters of the Far West

now seemed to remain for us but to sell our lives as
dearly as possible. With this impression, grasping a
pistol, I advanced a step towards the villain who held
the knife, with the full determination of putting an
end to his career before any of us should fall; but while
in the act of lifting my foot and moving my arm, a
second idea floated across my mind, admonishing me
to soothe, and not provoke, the Indians, that Provi-
dence might yet make a way for us to escape: this
thought saved the Indian’s life, and ours too. Instead
of drawing the pistol, as I intended, I took a knife from
my belt, such as travellers generally use in this country,
and presented it to him, saying, ‘Here, my friend, is a
chiefs knife, I give it to you; that is not a chiefs knife,
give it back to the man.’ Fortunately, he took mine
in his hand; but, still sullen and savage, he said noth-
ing. The moment was a critical one; our fate hung as
by a thread: I shall never forget it! All the bystanders
had their eyes now fixed on the chief, thoughtful and
silent as he stood; we also stood motionless, not know-
ing what a moment might bring forth. At last the
savage handed the man his knife, and turning mine
round and round for some time in his hand, turned to
his people, holding up the knife in his hand, exclaimed,
‘She-augh Me-yokat Waltz’ — Look, my friends, at the
chief s knife: these words he repeated over and over
again. He was delighted. The Indians flocked round
him: all admired the toy, and in the excess of his joy
he harangued the multitude in our favour. Fickle, in-

Beyond the Old Frontier

deed, are savages! Tliey were now no longer enemies,
but friends! Several others, following Eyacktana’s ex-
ample, harangued in turn, all in favour of the whites.
This done, the great men squatted themselves down,
the pipe of peace was called for, and while it was going
round and round the smoking circle, I gave each of the
six principal chiefs a small paper-cased looking-glass
and a little vermilion, as a present; and in return, they
presented me with two horses and twelve beavers,
while the women soon brought us a variety of eatables.

“This sudden change regulated my movements.
Indeed, I might say the battle was won. I now made
a speech to them in turn, and, as many of them under-
stood the language I spoke, I asked them what I should
say to the great white chief when I got home, when he
asks me where are all the horses I bought from you.
What shall I say to him ^ At this question it was easy
to see that their pride was touched. ‘Tell him,’ said
Eyacktana, ‘that we have but one mouth, and one
word; all the horses you have bought from us are yours,
they shall be delivered up.’ This was just what I
wanted. After a little counselling among themselves,
Eyacktana was the first to speak, and he undertook to
see them collected.

“By this time it was sun-down. The chief then
mounted his horse, and desired me to mount mine and
accompany him, telling one of his sons to take my men
and property under his charge till our return. Being
acquainted with Indian habits, I knew there would be

Fur Hunters of the Far West

repeated calls upon my purse, so I put some trinkets
into my pocket, and we started on our nocturnal ad-
venture; which I considered hazardous but not hopeless.

“Such a night we had! The chief harangued, trav-
elled and harangued, the whole night, the people re-
plied. We visited every street, alley, hole and corner
of the camp, which we traversed lengthwise, crossway,
east, west, south, and north, going from group to
group, and the call was 'Deliver up the horses.’ Here
was gambling, there scalp-dancing; laughter in one
place, mourning in another. Crowds were passing to
and fro, whooping, yelling, dancing, drumming, sing-
ing. Men, women, and children were huddled to-
gether; flags flying, horses neighing, dogs howling,
chained bears, tied wolves, grunting and growling, all
pell-mell among the tents; and, to complete the con-
fusion, the night was dark. At the end of each ha-
rangue the chief would approach me, and whisper in
my ear, 'She-augh tamtay enim’ — I have spoken well
in your favour — a hint for me to reward his zeal by
giving him something. This was repeated constantly,
and I gave him each time a string of beads, or two but-
tons, or two rings. I often thought he repeated his
harangues more frequently than necessary; but it an-
swered his purpose, and I had no choice but to obey
and pay.

“At daylight we got back; my people and property
were safe; and in two hours after my eighty-five horses
were delivered up, and in our possession. I was now

Beyond the Old Frontier

convinced of the chiefs influence, and had got so well
into his good graces with my beads, buttons, and rings,
that I hoped we were out of all our troubles. Our
business being done, I ordered my men to tie up and
prepare for home, which was glad tidings to them.
With all this favourable change, we were much em-
barrassed and annoyed in our preparations to start.
The savages interrupted us every moment. They
jeered the men, frightened the horses, and kept han-
dling, snapping, and firing off our guns; asking for this,
that, and the other thing. The men’s hats, pipes, belts,
and knives were constantly in their hands. They
wished to see everything, and everything they saw they
wished to get, even to the buttons on their clothes.
Their teasing curiosity had no bounds; and every delay
increased our difficulties. Our patience was put to the
test a thousand times; but at last we got ready, and my
men started. To amuse the Indians, however, till
they could get fairly off, I invited the chiefs to a parley,
which I put a stop to as soon as I thought the men
and horses had got clear of the camp. I then pre-
pared to follow them, when a new difficulty arose. In
the hurry and bustle of starting, my people had left a
restive, awkward brute of a horse for me, wild as a
deer, and as full of latent tricks as he was wild. I
mounted and dismounted at least a dozen times; in
vain I tried to make him advance. He reared, jumped
and plunged; but refused to walk, trot, or gallop.
Every trial to make him go was a failure. A young con-

Fur Hunters of the Far West

ceited fop of an Indian, thinking he could make more
of him than I could, jumped on his back; the horse
reared and plunged as before, when, instead of slacken-
ing the bridle as he reared, he reined it tighter and
tighter, till the horse fell right over on his back, and
almost killed the fellow. Here Eyacktana, with a
frown, called out, ‘Kap-sheesh she-eam’ — the bad
horse — and gave me another; and for the generous
act I gave him my belt, the only article I had to spare.
But although the difficulties I had with the horse were
galling enough to me, they proved a source of great
amusement to the Indians, who enjoyed it with roars
of laughter.’’

When Ross got out of the camp he rode hard and
took a short cut in the effort to overtake his people,
but could not find them. Presently, however, from the
top of a ridge, he saw three horsemen coming toward
him at full tilt. He made preparation for defence, and
hiding behind a rock awaited the onslaught, but before
they got close to him he discovered that these were
the friendly Pisscows, who before had warned him to
turn back, and with them he went on. At last they
saw Ross’s people, who were driving their horses as
fast as they could, but when they saw Ross and his
companions behind them they thought them ene-
mies, and stopped to fight. All were glad enough to
get together, and at last, after various adventures, they
reached the fort at Okanagan.

Beyond the Old Frontier

WORK OF A FUR TRADER

A LITTLE later Ross went north to his own post at the
She-Whaps, where he made a good trade. From here
he decided to go west to the Pacific coast on foot, be-
lieving that the distance was not more than two hun-
dred miles, but before he reached the coast a destructive
hurricane passed so close to his party that his guide,
altogether discouraged by fatigue and failure, deserted
during the night, and Ross was obliged to return.

One winter, much alarm was caused among the In-
dians by the depredations of strange wolves, reported
to be hundreds in number, and as big as buffalo, which
were coming into the country, and on their march were
killing all the horses. The Indians declared that all
the horses would be killed, for men could not go near
these wolves, nor would arrows or balls kill them.
Shortly after the head chief of the Okanagan Indians
had told this story to Ross, wolves killed five of the
traders’ horses. Ross took up those left alive, and then
put out a dozen traps about the carcass of one that
had been killed. The next morning four of the traps
were sprung. “One of them held a large white wolf
by the fore leg, a foot equally large was gnawed off
and left in another, the third held a fox, and the fourth
trap had disappeared altogether.” Unable to get
away, the captured wolf was quite ready to fight. It

Fur Hunters of the Far West

had gnawed the trap until its teeth were broken and its
head was covered with blood. When killed it was found
to weigh one hundred and twenty-seven pounds, an
enormous animal. The one that had carried off the
trap was at last discovered making the best of its way
over the country, and pursuit resulted in its capture.
The animal had dragged a trap and chain weighing
eight and one-half pounds a distance of twenty-five
miles, without appearing at all fatigued. Ross wanted
the skin, but had left his knife behind him. However,
it was not for nothing that he had been for years asso-
ciated with Indians, and he took the flint out of his
gun, skinned the animal, and went home with skin and
trap.

The killing of these two wolves and the crippling
of the third put an end to the destruction, and not an-
other horse was killed in that part of the country during
the season.

Ross comments interestingly on the methods used
by wolves in decoying horses.

“If there is no snow, or but little, on the ground, two
wolves approach in the most playful and caressing
manner, lying, rolling, and frisking about, until the
too credulous and unsuspecting victim is completely
put off his guard by curiosity and familiarity. During
this time the gang, squatted on their hind-quarters,
look on at a distance. After some time spent in this
way, the two assailants separate, when one approaches
the horse’s head, the other his tail, with a slyness and

56 Beyond the Old Frontier

cunning peculiar to themselves. At this stage of the
attack, their frolicsome approaches become very in-
teresting— it is in right good earnest; the former is a
mere decoy, the latter is the real assailant, and keeps
his eyes steadily fixed on the ham-strings or flank of
the horse. The critical moment is then watched, and
the attack is simultaneous; both wolves spring at their
victim the same instant, one to the throat, the other
to the flank, and if successful, which they generally
are, the hind one never lets go his hold till the horse
is completely disabled. Instead of springing forward
or kicking to disengage himself, the horse turns round
and round without attempting a defence. The wolf
before, then springs behind, to assist the other. The
sinews are cut, and in half the time I have been describ-
ing it, the horse is on his side; his struggles are fruit-
less: the victory is won. At this signal, the lookers-on
close in at a gallop, but the small fry of followers keep
at a respectful distance, until their superiors are gorged,
then they take their turn unmolested. The wolves,
however, do not always kill to eat; like wasteful hunt-
ers, they often kill for the pleasure of killing, and leave
the carcases untouched. The helplessness of the horse
when attacked by wolves is not more singular than its
timidity and want of action when in danger by fire.
When assailed by fire, in the plains or elsewhere, their
strength, swiftness, and sagacity, are of no avail; they
never attempt to fly, but become bewildered in the
smoke, turn round and round, stand and tremble.

Fur Hunters of the Far West

until they are burnt to death: which often happens in
this country, in a conflagration of the plains.”

It must be remembered, however, that Ross is speak-
ing of wolves of the western mountains, animals which
were not familiar with the buffalo, and which now, since
horses had been brought into the country, had been
supplied with a new food animal. Ross says also, and
he is almost the only writer who speaks of anything of
this kind, that wolves sometimes attacked men, and
instances two men forced to take shelter for several
hours in a tree by a band of seventeen wolves. •

It was about this time that a change of heart began
to take place among the authorities of the Northwest
Company. Since Astoria had become Fort George
few or no steps had been taken to make the most of
the possibilities of the country, but those who were on
the ground dwelt constantly on the poverty of the
country, the hostility of the Indians, and the imprac-
ticability of trade. The people who came over the
mountains to take the place of the Astorians brought
with them their habits of the fur country of the east,
and seemed unable to change them. The traders from
the east preferred the birch-bark canoe, and spent
much time in searching for bark. It was even pro-
vided—lest that of good quality should not be found
on the waters of the Pacific slope — that a stock of
bark should be shipped from Montreal to London, and
thence around Cape Horn to Fort George, in order
that canoes might be made.

Beyond the Old Frontier

In 1816 the Columbia River district was divided
by the authorities at Fort William into two separate
departments, each one with a bourgeois at the head.
Mr. Keith was chosen to preside at Fort George, while
Mr. McKenzie was given charge of the department of
the interior. There was much grumbling at this last
appointment. Ross was appointed as second in com-
mand to Mr. Keith. Shortly after this there were
various troubles at Fort George, one of the most im-
portant being the desertion of the blacksmith Jacob,
who fled to a hostile tribe, from which he was taken by
Ross, who went after him with thirty men. The en-
terprise was one which required that courage and en-
durance which Ross so often displayed in times of
difflculty. The west coast trade was further compli-
cated by the jealousy which Mr. Keith felt for Mr.
McKenzie. These difficulties were overcome, and Mc-
Kenzie again set out for his interior command, accom-
panied by a force of Iroquois, Abenakis, and Sand-
wich Islanders. Mr. Keith remained in command at
Fort George.

Many of the hunters and trappers at Fort George
lacked experience in dealing with the natives, and
before long there was trouble with the Indians. These
tried to exact tribute from the fur traders for trapping
on the tribal land, and the fur traders, far from showing
patience, were quite ready to quarrel. One or more of
the hunters were wounded on the Willamette and
some Indians were killed. Ross was sent out to try to

Fur Hunters of the Far West

effect a reconciliation, but, as so often is the case where
Indians have been killed, the people in the camps de-
clined to smoke and to consider any other course than
war. It was only by the exercise of great patience and
forbearance, and finally by the gift of a flag to a chief,
that the trouble was at last smoothed over, and the
opposing parties smoked and made long speeches and
then concluded a treaty — the whites having paid for
the dead — which greatly pleased Mr. Keith.

McKenzie on his way up the Columbia did not get
beyond the Cascades, for here he found the river frozen;
so he camped and spent the winter among the Indians,
showing, in his dealings with them, remarkable tact
and judgment.

Ross describes with some humor the happenings at
a feast, such as frequently took place in the camp
where McKenzie now was:

“On the score of cheer, we will here gratify the cu-
riosity of our readers with a brief description of one of
their entertainments, called an Indian feast. The first
thing that attracts the attention of a stranger, on
being invited to a feast in these parts, is, to see seven
or eight bustling squaws running to and fro with pieces
of greasy bark, skins of animals, and old mats, to fur-
nish the banqueting lodge, as receptacles for the deli-
cate viands: at the door of the lodge is placed, on
such occasions, a sturdy savage with a club in his
hand, to keep the dogs at bay, while the preparations
are going on.

Beyond the Old Frontier

“The banqueting hall is always of a size suitable to
the occasion, large and roomy. A fire occupies the
centre, round which, in circular order, are laid the
eatables. The guests form a close ring round the
whole. Every one approaches with a grave and sol-
emn step. The party being all assembled, the reader
may picture to himself our friend seated among the
nobles of the place, his bark platter between his legs,
filled top-heavy with the most delicious mHange of
bear’s grease, dog’s flesh, wappatoes, obellies, amutes,
and a profusion of other viands, roots and berries.
Round the festive board, placed on terra firmUy all the
nabobs of the place are squatted down in a circle, each
helping himself out of his platter with his fingers, ob-
serving every now and then to sleek down the hair by
way of wiping the hands. Only one knife is used, and
that is handed round from one to another in quick
motion. Behind the banqueting circle sit, in anxious
expectation, groups of the canine tribe, yawning, howl-
ing, and growling; these can only be kept in the rear
by a stout cudgel, which each of the guests keeps by
him, for the purpose of self-defence; yet it not unfre-
quently happens that some one of the more daring curs
gets out of patience, breaks through the front rank,
and carries off his booty; but when a trespass of this
kind is committed, the unfortunate offender is well
belaboured in his retreat, for the cudgels come down
upon him with a terrible vengeance. The poor dog,
however, has his revenge in turn, for the squabble and

Fur Hunters of the Far West

brawl that ensues disturbs all the dormant fleas of the
domicile. This troop of black assailants jump about
in all directions, so that a guest, by helping himself
to the good things before him, keeping the dogs at bay
behind him, and defending himself from the black
squadrons that surround him, pays, perhaps, dearer
for his entertainment at the Columbian Cascades than
a foreign ambassador does in a London hotel!”

On leaving this place in the spring, the traders broke
one of their boats while towing it up the Cascades, and
there was no room in the other boats to load the cargo
of the one that had been broken. There were sixty
packages, of ninety pounds each, and this large and
valuable cargo McKenzie turned over to a chief, to be
kept for him until his return. When the brigade re-
turned six months later the whole cargo was handed
over safe and untouched to McKenzie. Such care for
the property of their guests was often given by the
old-time Indians.

The next summer when the inland brigade left Fort
George for the interior, Ross accompanied it, for he
was starting for his own post at She-Whaps. As usual,
there were many annoyances — ^men deserted, others
fell sick, some of the Iroquois were about to fire on the
native Indians — and altogether the leaders of the party
had their hands full in trying to keep peace.

Ross had with him a little dog which an Indian one
morning got hold of and carried away. The dog,
anxious to get back to his master, in its struggles to

Beyond the Old Frontier

escape happened to scratch one of the children of his
captor, and presently Ross saw the dog running to him,
followed by two men with guns in their hands. The
dog lay down by its master’s feet, and one of the In-
dians cocked his gun to shoot the animal. Ross
jumped up and took the gun from the Indian, who
seemed very angry and demanded it again. After a
time Ross handed it back to him, at the same time
picking up his own gun and telling the Indian that if
he attempted to kill the dog he himself would die.
The man did not shoot the dog, but telling his trouble
to the other Indians, they gathered about Ross and
there was every prospect of a pretty quarrel. How-
ever, Ross and McKenzie, strong in their knowledge
of Indian character, smoothed things over, made a
little gift to the child that had been scratched, gave
the chief some tobacco, and presently went on their
way with the apparent good-will of the whole camp.

A day or two later another example was seen of the
way in which Ross handled the Indians. The chiefs
and the traders were smoking and talking.

“While thus engaged, and the crowd thronging
around us, a fellow more like a baboon than a man,
with a head full of feathers and a countenance of brass,
having a fine gun in his hand, called out, ‘How long
are the whites to pass here, troubling our waters and
scaring our fish, without paying us.^ Look at all these
bales of goods going to our enemies,’ said he; ‘and look
at our wives and children naked.’ The fellow then

Fur Hunters of the Far West

made a pause, as if waiting an answer; but, as good
fortune would have it, the rest of the Indians paid but
little attention to him. No answer was made; nor
was it a time to discuss the merits or demerits of such
a question. Happening, however, to be near the fel-
low when he spoke, I turned briskly round, ‘So long,’
said I, ‘as the Indians smoke our tobacco; just so long,
and no longer, will the whites pass here.’ Then I put
some questions to him in turn. ‘Who gave you that
fine gun on your hand?’ ‘The whites,’ answered he.
‘And who gives you tobacco to smoke?’ ‘The whites,’
he replied. Continuing the subject, ‘Are you fond of
your gun?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And are you fond of tobacco to
smoke?’ To this question also the reply was ‘Yes.’
‘Then,’ said I, ‘you ought to be fond of the whites who
supply all your wants.’ ‘Oh, yes!’ rejoined he. The
nature of the questions and answers set the bystanders
laughing; and taking no further notice of the rascal, he
sneaked off among the crowd, and we saw him no more.
The question put by the feathered baboon amounted
to nothing in itself; but it proved that the subject of
tribute had been discussed among the Indians.”

There was constant demand for readiness and quick-
wittedness, for the whites were very few in number
and the Indians numerous; moreover, these primitive
people were altogether disposed to see how far the
whites would permit them to go, and it was thus ex-
ceedingly easy to begin a quarrel about some trifling
matter in which blood might be shed.

Beyond the Old Frontier

From his post in the She-Whaps Ross soon went east
toward the Rocky Mountains, having been ordered to
explore this country and see what it contained. He set
out on foot with two of his best hands and two Indians.
Each carried as baggage one-half dozen pairs of mocca-
sins, a blanket, some ammunition, needles, thread, and
tobacco, besides a small axe, a knife, a fire steel, and an
awl. All they had besides was a kettle and a pint pot.
For subsistence they depended on their guns, and for a
further supply of shoes and clothing on the animals
that they might kill by the way.

The country was extraordinarily rough. Fur-bear-
ing animals were not plenty, but game was abundant,
elk and deer being seen in great numbers, and so tame
as to make it appear that they had never been dis-
turbed.

In six days’ travel down a stream, which Ross calls
the Grisly-bear, they shot four elks, twenty-two deer,
two otters, two beavers, and three black bears, without
stepping out of the trail. A little later they saw moose,
and still later is given a curious account of a battle
between two large birds, both of which were captured.
One of these was a white-headed eagle which weighed
eight and three-quarter pounds, and the other “a wild-
turkey cock, or what we call the Columbia grouse,”
which could only have been a sage grouse. This is
said to have weighed eleven and one-quarter pounds!

During this same summer McKenzie had trouble
with the Iroquois — seemingly most untrustworthy ser-

Fur Hunters of the Far West

vants — who tried to kill McKenzie, perhaps with the
idea of taking all the property of the expedition. How-
ever, McKenzie’s quickness and readiness enabled him
to put the Iroquois to flight.

Soon after his return from his Eastern exploration
Ross was invited by the Indians to accompany them
on a bear-hunt, which he describes:

“The party were all mounted on horseback, to the
number of seventy-three, and exhibited a fine display
of horsemanship. After some ten miles’ travel, we
commenced operations. Having reached the hunting-
ground, the party separated into several divisions. We
then perambulated the woods, crossed rivers, sur-
rounded thickets, and scampered over hill and dale,
with yell and song, for the greater part of two days;
during which time we killed seven bears, nine wolves,
and eleven small deer: one of the former I had the good
luck to shoot myself. In the evening of the third day,
however, our sport was checked by an accident. One
of the great men, the chief Pacha of the hunting party,
named Tu-tack-it, Is-tso-augh-an, or Short Legs, got
severely wounded by a female bear.

“The only danger to be apprehended in these savage
excursions is by following the wounded animal into a
thicket, or hiding-place; but with the Indians the more
danger the more honour, and some of them are fool-
hardy enough to run every hazard in order to strike
the last fatal blow, (in which the honour lies,) sometimes
with a lance, tomahawk, or knife, at the risk of their

Beyond the Old Frontier

lives. No sooner is a bear wounded than it immediately
flies for refuge to some hiding-place, unless too closely
pursued; in which case, it turns round in savage fury
on its pursuers, and woe awaits whoever is in the way.

“The bear in question had been wounded and took
shelter in a small coppice. The bush was instantly
surrounded by the horsemen, when the more bold
and daring entered it on foot, armed with gun, knife,
and tomahawk. Among the bushrangers on the pres-
ent occasion was the chief. Short Legs, who, while
scrambling over some fallen timber, happened to stum-
ble near to where the wounded and enraged bear was
concealed, but too close to be able to defend himself
before the vicious animal got hold of him. At that
moment I was not more than five or six paces from the
chief, but could not get a chance of shooting, so I
immediately called out for help, when several mustered
round the spot. Availing ourselves of the doubtful
alternative of killing her — even at the risk of killing the
chief — we fired, and as good luck would have it, shot
the animal and saved the man; then carrying the bear
and wounded chief out of the bush, we laid both on
the open ground. The sight of the chief was appalling:
the scalp was torn from the crown of his head, down
over the eyebrows! he was insensible, and for some
time we all thought him dead; but after a short inter-
val his pulse began to beat, and he gradually showed
signs of returning animation.

“It was a curious and somewhat interesting scene to

Fur Hunters of the Far West

see the party approach the spot where the accident
happened. Not being able to get a chance of shooting,
they threw their guns from them, and could scarcely
be restrained from rushing on the fierce animal with
their knives only. The bear all the time kept looking
first at one, then at another, and casting her fierce and
flaming eyes around the whole of us, as if ready to
make a spring at each; yet she never let go her hold
of the chief; but stood over him. Seeing herself sur-
rounded by so many enemies, she moved her head
from one position to another, and these movements
gave us ultimately an opportunity of killing her.

‘‘The misfortune produced a loud and clamorous
scene of mourning among the chiefs relations; we has-
tened home, carrying our dead bears along with us, and
arrived at the camp early in the morning of the fourth
day. The chief remained for three days speechless.
In cutting off the scalp and dressing the wound, we
found the skull, according to our imperfect knowledge
of anatomy, fractured in two or three places; and at
the end of eight days, I extracted a bone measuring
two inches long, of an oblong form, and another of
about an inch square, with several smaller pieces, all
from the crown of the head! The wound, however,
gradually closed up and healed, except a small spot
about the size of an English shilling. In fifteen days,
by the aid of Indian medicine, he was able to walk
about, and at the end of six weeks from the time he got
wounded, he was on horseback again at the chace.”

Beyond the Old Frontier

More or less wolf-hunting was done through the win-
ter, and Ross describes certain methods of catching
and killing these animals.

The killing of wolves, foxes, and other wild animals
by the whites was really only a recreation, and the
traders preferred shooting them to any other mode of
destruction. The wolves were usually afoot and search-
ing for food at all hours of the day and night. They
liked to get up on nearby hills or knolls, to sit and
look about. It was the practice of the traders to scatter
food about the places frequented by the wolves, and —
when there were no wolves there — to practise shooting
at a mark, watching where the balls hit and learning
the elevation of the gun required to reach the spot,
until finally many of them became very expert at this
long-distance shooting.

“A band of Indians happening to come to the fort
one day, and observing a wolf on one of the favourite
places of resort, several of them prepared to take a
circuitous turn to have a shot at the animal. Seeing
them prepare — ‘Try,’ said I, ‘and kill it from where
you are.’ The Indians smiled at my ignorance. ‘Can
the whites,’ said the chief, ‘kill it at that distance.^’
‘The whites,’ said I, ‘do not live by hunting or shoot-
ing as do the Indians, or they might.’ ‘There is no
gun,’ continued the chief, ‘that could kill at that dis-
tance.’ By this time the wolf had laid hold of a bone,
or piece of flesh, and was scampering off with it, at full
speed, to the opposite woods. Taking hold of my gun

Fur Hunters of the Far West

— ‘If we cannot kill it,’ said I, ‘we shall make it let go
its prey.’ ‘My horse against your shot,’ called out
the chief, ‘ that you do not hit the wolf.’ ‘ Done,’ said
I; but I certainly thought within myself that the chief
ran no great risk of losing his horse, nor the wolf of
losing his life. Taking an elevation of some fifteen or
sixteen feet over it, by chance I shot the animal in
his flight, to the astonishment of the chief, as well as
all present, who, clapping their hands to their mouths
in amazement, measured the distance by five arrow-
shots: nothing but their wonder could exceed their
admiration of this effect of fire-arms.

“When the ball struck the wolf, it was in the act of
leaping; and we may judge of its speed at the time,
from the fact that the distance from whence it took
the last leap to where it was lying stretched, measured
twenty-four feet! The ball struck the wolf in the left
thigh, and passing through the body, neck and head,
it lodged in the lower jaw; I cut it out with my pen-
knife. The chief, on delivering up his horse, which
he did cheerfully, asked me for the ball, and that ball
was the favourite ornament of his neck for years after-
wards. The horse I returned to its owner. The In-
dians then asked me for the skin of the dead wolf;
and to each of the guns belonging to the party was ap-
pended a piece: the Indians fancying that the skin
would enable them, in future, to kill animals at a great
distance.”

The following summer, McKenzie with Ross and

Beyond the Old Frontier

ninety-five men went up the river and encamped at
the site determined on for the new establishment of
Fort Nez Perces, about one-half mile from the mouth
of the Walla Walla. This country was occupied by
Indians of the Shahaptian stock — fierce, good war-
riors, and impulsive — easily moved in one direction or
the other. They seemed by no means favorable to
the coming whites; did not shake hands with them, and
in fact appeared disposed to boycott the new arrivals.

The situation was a difficult one, because the con-
struction of a fort required a dividing of the party into
many small bands, and also because more Indians were
constantly coming in, and their actions caused much
uneasiness. They insisted on receiving pay for the
timber to be used in building the fort; they forbade
hunting and fishing; they set the price on all articles
of trade, and it was difficult to know what the outcome
of this might be.

The difficulties threatening the traders caused an
almost complete suspension of work. They stood on
their guard, ready for an attack at any time, while
for five days there was no intercourse between whites
and Indians; food was short, and one night the party
went to bed supperless. The Indians continued to
gather, and the traders thought that they were plot-
ting and planning — no one knew what.

A slight enclosure had been put up, behind which the
traders awaited whatever might happen. After a time,
the chiefs opened negotiations with the whites and

Fur Hunters of the Far West

insisted that liberal presents should be made to all
the Indians roundabout, in order to gain their favor.
This was obviously impracticable, since all the property
of the traders would not have sufficed to make a pres-
ent to each Indian, and the demand was refused, with
the result that the firmness of the white men caused
the Indians to reduce their requests and finally to sub-
mit to the proposals of the whites, and as soon as this
was agreed on a brisk trade went on.

The position chosen for the fort was noteworthy
among the natives because it was the ground on which,
some years before, Lewis and Clark had ratified a
general peace between themselves and the tribes of
the surrounding country. The situation was com-
manding. To the west was a spacious view of the
great river, to the north and east were the wide ex-
panses of the yellow plains, while to the south lay wild,
rough hills on either side of the river, overlooked by
two singular towering rocks on the east side of the
stream, called by the natives “The Twins.” In the
distance lay the Blue Mountains.

Presently a large war-party returned to the camp
with scalps and captives — a great triumph. Now
came a demand from the Indians that the white traders
should not give guns or balls to the enemies of these
Indians, but after much negotiation and many speeches,
the Indians agreed that peace should be made between
themselves and the Snakes.

It was not long after this that a considerable party

Beyond the Old Frontier

was sent off to penetrate the country inhabited by the
Snakes and other tribes to the south. The traders
had secured two hundred and eighty horses, enough
for riding and packing, and the most of these were to
go off with the Snake expedition, which consisted of
fifty-five men, nearly two hundred horses, three hun-
dred beaver-traps, and a considerable stock of trade
goods. Mr. McKenzie led the expedition, which left
Fort Nez Perces at the end of September. Ross, with
the remaining party, stayed at the Fort.

The neighboring Indians, of whom Ross speaks in
most cordial terms, treated the traders well and were
respectful and good-natured, but presently came rumors
of difficulties between the trading party to the Snakes
and that tribe, and one of these rumors was confirmed
by the arrival of a member of that expedition, an Iro-
quois, who had evidently had a hard time. According
to his account, the Iroquois after a time separated
from McKenzie to trap a small river which was well
stocked with beaver. The Iroquois, according to the
story, began to exchange their horses, guns, and traps
with a small party of Snakes, and presently had little
or nothing left. The returned Iroquois man got lost,
and finally, with great difficulty, without food, blanket,
or arms, got back to Fort Nez Perces. Other Iro-
quois returned and told various stories, and finally,
going back to Fort George, persuaded Mr. Keith to send
out a party to punish the Indians, who they said had
injured them. Such a party was sent out to the Cow-

Fur Hunters of the Far West

litz River, and the Iroquois getting away from Mr.
Ogden killed twelve men, women, and children, and
scalped three of them. This seemed fatal to further
friendly relations; nevertheless, at last peace was con-
cluded between the traders and the Cowlitz Indians,
and was sealed by the marriage of the chiefs daughter
to one of the fur traders.

There was more sporadic fighting and killing of
Indians and the murder of five people belonging to Fort
George, so that things got into a very bad condition,
which it took a long time to smooth over.

Late in the season Mr. McKenzie with six men on
snow-shoes returned from the interior and gave an
interesting account of the new country through which
he had passed — a country to him not wholly new, be-
cause he had been through it in i8ii. He reported
that the Iroquois, instead of trapping and hunting,
had separated and were scattered all over the country
by twos and threes, living with the Indians, without
horses, without traps, without furs, and without cloth-
ing. He left them as he found them.

Of the region traversed, Mr McKenzie reported:

“On our outward journey, the surface was moun-
tainous and rugged, and still more so on our way back.
Woods and valleys, rocks and plains, rivers and ra-
vines, alternately met us; but altogether it is a delight-
ful country. There animals of every class rove about
undisturbed; wherever there was a little plain, the red
deer were seen grazing in herds about the rivers; round

Beyond the Old Frontier

every other point were clusters of poplar and elder,
and where there was a sapling, the ingenious and in-
dustrious beaver was at work. Otters sported in the
eddies; the wolf and the fox were seen sauntering in
quest of prey; now and then a few cypresses or stunted
pines were met with on the rocky parts, and in their
spreading tops the raccoon sat secure. In the woods,
the martin and black fox were numerous; the badger
sat quietly looking from his mound; and in the number-
less ravines, among bushes laden with fruits, the
black, the brown, and the grisly bear were seen. The
mountain sheep, and goat white as snow, browsed on
the rocks, and ridges; and the big horn species ran
among the lofty cliffs. Eagles and vultures, of un-
common size, flew about the rivers. When we ap-
proached, most of these animals stood motionless; they
would then move off a little distance, but soon came
anew to satisfy a curiosity that often proved fatal to
them.

“The report of a gun did not alarm them: they would
give a frisk at each shot, and stand again; but when
the flag was unfurled, being of a reddish hue, it was
with apparent reluctance they would retire beyond the
pleasing sight. Hordes of wild horses were likewise
seen on this occasion; and of all the animals seen on
our journey they were the wildest, for none of them
could be approached; their scent is exceedingly keen,
their hearing also; and in their curiosity they were never
known to come at any time within gun-shot. One

Fur Hunters of the Far West

band of these contained more than two hundred.
Some of them were browsing on the face of the hills;
others were running like deer up and down the steeps;
and some were galloping backwards and forwards on
the brows of the sloping mountains, with their flowing
manes and bushy tails streaming in the wind.”

Mr. McKenzie's successful trip commanded the ad-
miration of all of the council of the head men at Fort
George. Those who had formerly been opposed to
him were now loud in his praises, and the establish-
ment of Fort Nez Perces and the gaining of a foothold
in the Snake country were warmly approved. He re-
mained at Fort Nez Perces only seven days and then
started back again. His report of the prospects in
the Snake country was gratifying, but his people were
giving great trouble.

Ill

INDIANS AND THEIR BATTLES

Fort Nez Perces was stockaded with an enclosure
of pickets of sawn timber some twelve or fifteen feet
high with four towers or bastions. The pickets were
two and one-half feet broad by six inches thick. Near
the top of the stockade was a balustrade four feet
high, and a gallery five feet broad extended all around
it, while the walls were loopholed. At each angle of
the fort was a large reservoir holding two hundred gal-
lons of water, and within the stockade were all the

76 Beyond the Old Frontier

buildings, warehouses, stores, and dwelling-houses.
These buildings were all loopholed and had sliding
doors, and the trading-room was arranged with a
small door in the wall, eighteen inches square, through
which the Indians passed their furs, receiving from the
traders on the inside the goods to which they were
entitled. The outer gate was arranged to open and
shut by a pulley, and besides this there were two
double doors. Except on special occasions, the In-
dians were never invited into the fort. Nevertheless,
at the gate there was a house for the accommodation
of the Indians, with fire, tobacco, and a man to look
after them at all times. The Indians, however, did not
like this arrangement, because it seemed to show sus-
picion on the part of the white men; they themselves
were suspicious of some plots. They asked whether
the traders were afraid of them or afraid that they
would steal, and while the traders denied that they were
afraid of anything, they persisted in their plan, and at
length the Indians accepted the situation. The traders
were supplied with cannons, swivels, muskets, and bay-
onets, boarding-pikes and hand-grenades, while above
the gate stood a small mortar. The position was a
strong one, and Ross calls it the ‘‘Gibraltar of Co-
lumbia” and speaks of it as “a triumph of British
energy and enterprise, of civilization over barbarism.”
McKenzie, on his return to the interior, had prom-
ised to be at the river Skam-naugh about the 5th of
June and had asked that an outfit with supplies for

Fur Hunters of the Far West

his party be sent to meet him there. For this reason
Ross returned from his annual trip to Fort George
nearly a month earlier than usual — by the 15th of
May. A party of fifteen men under a clerk named
Kittson was sent out to take McKenzie his supplies
and reinforce him. Kittson was a new man in the
service, and was full of confidence that he could handle
and defeat all the Indians on the continent. He had
good luck until the party got into the debatable land
in the Snake territory, and here, first, a dozen of his
horses were stolen, and then, a little later, all of
them.

Meantime McKenzie had had the usual difficulties
with his Iroquois trappers, who could not be trusted
with goods to trade with the Snakes. When the peo-
ple whom he expected to meet at the river were not
there, he sent out ten men to look for them. Two
days after starting, as they were passing through a
canyon, they met, face to face, the Indians who had
just taken all of Kittson’s horses, and, recognizing the
animals, charged the three horse-thieves. One was
killed, another wounded and escaped, and a third was
taken captive, and the traders turned the herd about
and drove the horses back to Kittson’s camp.

Kittson now had thirty-six men and joined Mc-
Kenzie, on the way capturing two more Indian horse-
thieves, caught at night while cutting loose the horses.
Kittson handed over his supplies, received McKenzie’s
furs, and set out again for Fort Nez Perces.

Beyond the Old Frontier

When McKenzie and Kittson separated, the former
had only three men left with him, for his Iroquois did
not arrive, as expected. While waiting for them, a
threatening party of mountain Snakes appeared at his
camp, who were very importunate, so much so that
at last McKenzie took from his pile of goods a keg
of gunpowder and, lighting a match, threatened, if the
Indians continued to advance, to blow up the whole
party. Taken by surprise, they hesitated, and then
suddenly, without a word, took to flight, not from
fear of the threats of McKenzie, but because of the
sudden appearance of a large war-party of Shahaptians
on the other side of the river. Fortunately, these peo-
ple could not cross the high and rushing stream, but
a little later they made an attack on Kittson’s party
and killed two of his men. As soon as the war-party
had gone McKenzie and his men, with their property,
crossed the channel of the river to an island, where
they remained twenty-two days, until the return of
Kittson. McKenzie and Kittson were now in a situa-
tion not at all agreeable. On one side were the Nez
Perces, on the other the Blackfeet, and all about were
the Snakes. All these tribes were hostile to one an-
other, and all of them more or less ill-disposed toward
the whites, so the summer was an anxious one, but Mc-
Kenzie purposed to winter in the upper country as
well as he might. Here Ross interjects an interesting
sketch of trappers’ methods.

“A safe and secure spot, near wood and water, is first

Fur Hunters of the Far West

selected for the camp. Here the chief of the party
resides with the property. It is often exposed to
danger, or sudden attack, in the absence of the trap-
pers, and requires a vigilant eye to guard against the
lurking savages. The camp is called head quarters.
From hence all the trappers, some on foot, some on
horseback, according to the distance they have to go,
start every morning, in small parties, in all directions,
ranging the distance of some twenty miles around.
Six traps is the allowance for each hunter; but to guard
against wear and tear, the complement is more fre-
quently ten. These he sets every night, and visits
again in the morning; sometimes oftener, according to
distance, or other circumstances. The beaver taken
in the traps are always conveyed to the camp, skinned,
stretched, dried, folded up with the hair in the inside,
laid by, and the flesh used for food. No sooner, there-
fore, has a hunter ^dsited his traps, set them again, and
looked out for some other place, than he returns to the
camp, to feast, and enjoy the pleasures of an idle day.

“There is, however, much anxiety and danger in
going through the ordinary routine of a trapper’s duty.
For as the enemy is generally lurking about among
the rocks and hiding-places, watching an opportunity,
the hunter has to keep a constant lookout; and the
gun is often in one hand, while the trap is in the other.
But when several are together, which is often the case
in suspicious places, one-half set the traps, and the
other half keep guard over them. Yet notwithstand-

Beyond the Old Frontier

ing all their precautions, some of them fall victims to
Indian treachery.

“The camp remains stationary while two-thirds of
the trappers find beaver in the vicinity; but whenever
the beaver becomes scarce, the camp is removed to
some more favourable spot. In this manner, the party
keeps moving from place to place, during the whole
season of hunting. Whenever serious danger is appre-
hended, all the trappers make for the camp. Were
we, however, to calculate according to numbers, the
prospects from such an expedition would be truly
dazzling: say, seventy-five men, with each six traps,
to be successfully employed during five months; that
is, two in the spring, and three in the fall, equal to
13 1 working days, the result would be 58,950 beaver!
Practically, however, the case is very different. The ap-
prehension of danger, at all times, is so great, that
three-fourths of their time is lost in the necessary steps
taken for their own safety. There is also another seri-
ous drawback unavoidably accompanying every large
party. The beaver is a timid animal; the least noise,
therefore, made about its haunt will keep it from com-
ing out for nights together; and noise is unavoidable
when the party is large. But when the party is small,
the hunter has a chance of being more or less success-
ful. Indeed, were the nature of the ground such as
to admit of the trappers moving about in safety, at
all times, and alone, six men, with six traps each, would,
in the same space of time, and at the same rate, kill

Fur Hunters of the Far West

as many beavers — say 4,716 — as the whole seventy-
five could be expected to do! And yet the evil is with-
out a remedy; for no small party can exist in these
parts. Hence the reason why beavers are so numerous.”

Ross points out also some of the troubles that the
traders must meet with, which troubles were largely
due, of course, to the absolute inability of the Indians
to comprehend the conditions of this new life. The
Indians asked for everything that they saw and berated
the traders because their requests were not complied
with. They were constantly playing jokes — or what
they considered jokes — on the white men, which were
irritating enough; and looked with contempt on the
whites who were engaged in ordinary labor, which they,
of course, did not in the least understand. The In-
dians, with all their freedom, were far from happy, be-
cause they were in a state of constant anxiety and alarm.
People who felt themselves Injured were likely to make
war excursions and kill some one belonging to another
tribe, which, of course, extended the field of the trouble.

When fighting took place, and people supposedly
friendly to the whites were injured, the traders were
blamed, because they sold guns, powder, and balls to
any one who might wish to trade with them. The
life of the trader was thus one of anxiety, and to
handle the Indians successfully called for extraordinary
self-control.

Not long before this time some Shahaptians had
killed two of Kittson’s men and several Snakes. The

Beyond the Old Frontier

Snakes followed them, but before overtaking them
came upon some Indians belonging to the Walla Walla,
camped not three miles from Fort Nez Perces, where
they killed a man, four women, and two children, and
captured two young women and a man. The next
day the whole Walla Walla camp moved down to the
fort, carrying the bodies of the dead. Ross saw the
disorderly procession coming on with shrieks and lam-
entations, and at first did not know what to make of
the advance, but presently the Indians reached the
gate of the fort, placed their dead upon the ground
there, and began to gash themselves with knives in
the oldtime way of mourning. They called to Ross
to come out to them, and he, while very reluctant,
had no choice — if he was to retain his influence with
them — but to obey.

‘‘Turning round to the sentinel at the door, I told
him to lock the gate after me, and keep a sharp look
out. The moment I appeared outside the gate, so
horrible was the uproar, that it baffles all description.
Intoxicated with wrath and savage rage, they resembled
furies more than human beings; and their ghastly,
wild, and forbidding looks were all directed towards
me, as if I had been the cause of their calamity. Tam-
a-tap-um the chief then coming up to me, and pointing
to one of the dead bodies, said, ‘You see my sister
there,’ then uncovering the body to show the wounds,
added, ‘That is a ball hole.’ ‘The whites’, said he
again, ‘have murdered our wives and our children.

Fur Hunters of the Far West

They have given guns and balls to our enemies. Those
very guns and balls have killed our relations.’ These
words were no sooner uttered than they were repeated
over and over again by the whole frantic crowd; who,
hearing the chief, believed them to be true. Excite-
ment was now at its height. Their gestures, their
passionate exclamations, showed what was working
within, and I expected every moment to receive a ball
or an arrow. One word of interruption spoken by me
at the critical moment, in favour of the whites, might
have proved fatal to myself. I therefore remained
silent, watching a favourable opportunity, and also ex-
amining closely the holes in the garments of the dead
bodies. The holes I was convinced were made by
arrows, and not by balls as the chief had asserted; but
it remained for me to convince others when an oppor-
tunity offered.

‘'Every violent fit of mourning was succeeded, as is
generally the case among savages, by a momentary
calm. As soon, therefore, as I perceived the rage of
the crowd beginning to subside, and nature itself
beginning to flag, I availed myself of the interval to
speak in turn; for silence then would have been a tacit
acknowledgment of our guilt. I therefore advanced,
and taking the chief by the hand, said in a low tone of
voice, as if overcome by grief, ‘My friend, what is all
this? Give me an explanation. You do not love the
whites; you have told me nothing yet.’ Tam-a-tap-um
then turning to his people, beckoned to them with the

Beyond the Old Frontier

hand to be silent; entire silence was not to be expected.
He then went over the whole affair from beginning to
end. When the chief ended, and the people were in a
listening mood, I sympathized with their misfortunes,
and observed that the whites had been undeservedly
blamed. ‘They are innocent,’ said I, ‘and that I can
prove. Look at that,’ said I, pointing to an arrow
wound, which no one could mistake, ‘the wounds are
those of arrows, not balls. Nor were the Snakes
themselves so much to blame; as we shall be able
to show.’

“At these assertions the chief looked angry, and
there was a buzz of disapprobation, among the crowd;
but I told the chief to listen patiently until I had done.
The chief then composed himself, and I proceeded.
‘After your solemn acquiescence In a peace between
yourselves and the Snakes, through the influence of
the whites, the Shaw-ha-ap-tens violated the second
pledge by going again to war, across the Blue Moun-
tains; and not content with having killed their enemies,
they killed their friends also. They killed two of the
whites. The Snakes in the act of retaliation have there-
fore made you all to mourn this day; they have made
the whites to mourn also. But your loss is less than
ours; your relations have been killed; but still you
have their bodies; that consolation is denied us. Our
friends have been killed, but we know not where their
bodies He.’ These facts neither the chief nor the
crowd could gainsay. The chief, with a loud voice,

Fur Hunters of the Far West

explained what I had said to the listening multitude;
when they with one voice exclaimed, Ht is true, it is
true!’ Leaving the chief, I then entered the fort, and
taking some red cloth, laid six inches of it on each body,
as a token of sympathy; then I told them to go and
bury their dead. A loud fit of lamentation closed the
scene. The bodies were then taken up, and the crowd
moved off, in a quiet and orderly manner.

“But the satisfaction we enjoyed at the departure
of the savages was of short duration, for they were
scarcely out of sight, and I scarcely inside the door,
when another band, related to those who had been
killed, arrived at the fort gate, and the loud and clam-
orous scene of mourning was again renewed.

“Among this second crowd of visitors was a fellow
dignified by the name of Prince, and brother to one of
the young women who had been carried off by the
Snakes. Prince encamped within fifty yards of the
fort, and his tent was no sooner pitched than he began
to chant the song of death. When an Indian resorts
to this mode of mourning, it is a sure sign that, ‘he has
thrown his body away,’ as the Indians term it, and
meditates self-destruction. Being told of Prince’s
resolution, I went to his tent to see him, and found him
standing, with his breast leaning upon the muzzle of
his gun; his hair was dishevelled, and he was singing
with great vehemence: he never raised his head to see
who I was. I knew all was not right, and spoke to
him; but receiving no answer, I went away, on my re-

86 Beyond the Old Frontier

turn to the fort. I had scarcely advanced twenty
yards from his tent, before I heard the report of a gun
behind me, and turning back again, I found the unfort-
unate fellow lying on the ground weltering in his
blood, his gun partly under him. He was still breath-
ing. The ball had entered his left breast, below the
nipple, and came out near the backbone. The wound
was bleeding freely, and he disgorged great quantities
of blood. I went to the fort for some assistance, but
on our return I expected that every moment would
have been his last; however we dressed his wound, and
did what we could to allay his suffering.

“The Indians now assembled in great numbers, and
were noisy and violent. In the first instance, they
threw all the blame of the unfortunate affair on the
whites; but in their rage and violence, they quarrelled
among themselves, and this new direction in their
excitement removed the odium in some degree from the
whites, and diverted the tide of popular fury into an-
other channel. During the affair, one of those unfort-
unate wretches called medicine-men happened to be
sitting at the fort gate, when a brother of the man
who had just shot himself went up to him, saying,
‘You dog! you have thrown your bad medicine on
my brother, and he is dead; but you shall not live,’
and in saying so, he shot him dead on the spot. The
ball, after passing through the man’s body, went more
than three inches into one of the fort palisades. I was
standing on the gallery at the moment he was shot,

Fur Hunters of the Far West

and had it been on any other occasion but in the midst
of a quarrel between the Indians, we certainly should
have avenged his death on the spot; for the murdered
man was an excellent Indian, and a sincere friend of
the whites.

‘‘The scene now assumed a threatening aspect.
Guns, bows, arrows, and every missile that could be
laid hold of, came into requisition; and robes, feathers,
bells, belts, and trinkets of every description, were
rattling about in true savage style. The fellow who
had just shot the medicine-man was shot in his turn,
and before the chiefs arrived, or could get a hearing,
three others were shot. The place appeared more like
a field of battle than anything else; for besides the five
bodies that lay lifeless on the ground, twice that num-
ber were desperately wounded.

“As soon as the deadly quarrel began, not knowing
the intent of the Indians, nor how it might end, I
shut the gates, and kept as clear of the quarrel as pos-
sible. In the midst of the confusion, the Indians
poured in from all quarters, adding fuel to the flame;
and some of them in approaching the place, thinking
it was a quarrel between the whites and themselves,
fired a shot or two at the fort before they were aware
of the mistake. This made us take to our bastions:
our matches were lighted, guns pointed, and we our-
selves watched the maneuvres of the savages around
us. One unguarded shot would have involved us in
the quarrel, which it was our interest to avoid; as it

Beyond the Old Frontier

would have put an end to all our prospects in the Snake
as well as the Nez Perces quarter.

“As soon as the chiefs could get a hearing, peace
was generally restored; and the five dead bodies were
removed to the Indian camp, at a distance from the
fort. Such a scene I should never wish to witness
again. This affray, happening at our very door, gave
us much uneasiness; as to keep the balance of good will
at all times In our favour was a task of more than or-
dinary difficulty.’’

The next day more Indians came in, and soon several
tribes were represented. The whites were indirectly
taxed with all the troubles, and there was a vast deal
of speech-making and many threats. At last, how-
ever, after a week of counselling, the matter quieted
down, the different tribes all smoked together, and
peace was made — to last for a time.

Ross has much to say about the different tribes of
Shoshoni stock and their relations to each other. He
was long with them and studied them carefully.

The Ban-at-tees, which we call Bannocks, seem to
have been held by the Snake tribes to the south and
west as chargeable with most of the disturbances be-
tween the whites and the Snakes, and after a time it
developed that the Indians that murdered Mr. Reid
and his party In the autumn of 1813 were Bannocks.

During the winter a hunter named Hodgens became
separated from his party during a violent snow-storm
and lost his way. A little later, in the same way.

Fur Hunters of the Far West

he lost his horse; his gun became broken so that he
could not make a fire, and during two days and two
nights he was obliged to lie out without fire.

“On the fourteenth day, however, while scarcely
able to crawl, he had the good luck to fall on the main
camp of the War-are-ree-kas; where recognizing the
chiefs tent, from the manner in which it was painted,
he advanced towards it, looking more like a ghost than
a living being. On his entering, Ama-ketsa, surprised
at his unexpected arrival, and still more surprised at
his emaciated appearance, stared him in the face for
some time, and could scarcely believe that it was a
white man; but as soon as he was convinced of the
reality, and made acquainted with the wanderer’s for-
lorn state, he ordered one of his wives to put a new
pair of shoes on his feet, gave him something to eat,
and was extremely kind to him. Here Hodgens re-
mained for eleven days in the chiefs tent, nursed with
all the care and attention of a child of the family, until
his strength was recovered; and as soon as he was on
his legs again, Ama-ketsa furnished him with a horse,
some provisions, and sent one of his own sons to con-
duct him to the whites. Although Hodgens could give
the Indians no clue as to where the hunters were en-
camped, yet on the eighth day they arrived safe and
sound at their friends’, and as straight as if they had
been led by a line to them; which convinced our
people that the Indians knew well the place of their
retreat. . . .

Beyond the Old Frontier

“A party of our people had been out a whole week
in search of Hodgens, and found his dead horse, but
despairing of finding him they returned to their camp;
and all hope of ever finding Hodgens alive vanished:
when he did come, their astonishment was equal to
their delight. The friendly conduct of Ama-ketsa
towards him was a strong proof of that chiefs good-
will towards our people. During our friends’ stay in
this place they had several surprises from the Indians,
but they managed matters so well that no more of
their horses were stolen.”

There is distinct reference in this volume to the
Yellowstone National Park, which may very well have
been visited by Ross or some of his trappers. He
speaks of ‘‘Pilot Knobs” — the Three Tetons — salt
and sulphur springs and of boiling fountains, some of
them so hot as to boil meat. These allusions do not,
of course, necessarily refer to Yellowstone Park, for
there are many other places in the Rocky Mountains
where such things are found, but the references to the
Three Tetons and to the source of the Lewis River
are suggestive enough.

Ross speaks also of various foods of the country;
of the use of horse flesh and dog flesh and also of the
Snake tobacco, which, for a time at least, the Indians
preferred to that imported by the whites. He credits
the Snake Indians with extraordinary skill in wood-
craft, shown especially by the methods they employ
to avoid possible enemies.

Fur Hunters of the Far West

WITH THE HUDSON BAY COMPANY

The time was now at hand when the Northwest
Company should be merged into the Hudson Bay Com-
pany. This consolidation naturally cast a gloom over
the retainers of the Northwest Company wherever
they were situated. The people who had been em-
ployed by the Northwest Company were uncertain
where they stood. Those who had been promoted
prior to the “deed-poll” — March 26, 1821 — were pro-
vided for by the Hudson Bay Company, whereas all
others were excluded from these benefits. Some of
them, however, received pecuniary compensation for
their disappointment, and of these Ross was one, or
he was told by an officer of the company that five
hundred pounds sterling had been placed to his credit,
but of this he never received a penny.

Ross now entered the service of the Hudson Bay
Company. He had been for a short time with the
Pacific Fur Company; had spent seven years with the
Northwest Company and, except for his experience,
was about where he had been when he started.

The servants of the Northwest Company had been
in the habit of depositing their savings with the firm
which was its head, and a few years after the consoli-
dation of the two companies this concern failed and
all these savings disappeared.

Beyond the Old Frontier

Toward the end of his first volume, after much in-
formation about Indians, half-breeds, trading, trap-
pers, and travel, Ross draws an interesting picture of
the manner in which the bourgeois — or proprietary
partner — ^journeys through the fur country, and the
absolute loyalty to him and to the company felt by
the voyageurs, who were, indeed, the backbone of the
northern fur trade. He says:

“The bourgeois is carried on board his canoe upon
the back of some sturdy fellow generally appointed for
this purpose. He seats himself on a convenient mat-
tress, somewhat low in the centre of his canoe; his gun
by his side, his little cherubs fondling around him, and
his faithful spaniel lying at his feet. No sooner is he
at his ease, than his pipe is presented by his attendant,
and he then begins smoking, while his silken banner
undulates over the stern of his painted vessel. Then
the bending paddles are plied, and the fragile craft
speeds through the currents with a degree of fleetness
not to be surpassed; — yell upon yell from the hearty
crew proclaiming their prowess and skill.

“A hundred miles performed, night arrives; the
hands jump out quickly into the water, and their na-
bob and his companions are supported to terra firma.
A roaring fire is kindled and supper is served; his
honour then retires to enjoy his repose. At dawn of
day they set out again; the men now and then relax
their arms, and light their pipes; but no sooner does
the headway of the canoe die away, than they renew

Fur Hunters of the Far West

their labours and their chorus: a particular voice being
ever selected to lead the song. The guide conducts
the march.

“At the hour of breakfast they put ashore on some
green plot. The tea-kettle is boiling; a variegated mat
is spread, and a cold collation set out. Twenty min-
utes— and they start anew. The dinner-hour arrives,
they put aground again. The liquor-can accompanies
the provision-basket; the contents are quickly set forth
in simple style; and, after a refreshment of twenty
minutes more, off they set again, until the twilight
checks their progress.

“When it is practicable to make way in the dark,
four hours is the voyageurs’ allowance of rest; and at
times, on boisterous lakes and bold shores, they keep
for days and nights together on the water, without
intermission, and without repose. They sing to keep
time to their paddles; they sing to keep off drowsiness,
caused by their fatigue; and they sing because the
bourgeois likes it.

“Through hardships and dangers, wherever he leads,
they are sure to follow with alacrity and cheerfulness —
over mountains and hills, along valleys and dales,
through woods and creeks, across lakes and rivers.
They look not to the right, nor to the left; they make
no halt in foul or fair weather. Such is their skill, that
they venture to sail in the midst of waters like oceans,
and, with amazing aptitude, they shoot down the most
frightful rapids; and they generally come off safely.

Beyond the Old Frontier

‘‘When about to arrive at the place of their destina-
tion, they dress with neatness, put on their plumes, and
a chosen song is raised. They push up against the
beach, as if they meant to dash the canoe into splin-
ters; but most adroitly back their paddles at the right
moment; whilst the foreman springs on shore, and,
seizing the prow, arrests the vessel in its course. On
this joyful occasion, every person advances to the
waterside, and great guns are fired to announce the
bourgeois’ arrival. A general shaking of hands takes
place, as it often happens that people have not met for
years: even the bourgeois goes through this mode of
salutation with the meanest. There is, perhaps, no
country where the ties of affection are more binding
than here. Each addresses his comrades as his broth-
ers; and all address themselves to the bourgeois with
reverence, as if he were their father.”

About this time, Mr. McKenzie retired from the
fur trade and went to live in northern New York.
This left without occupation a number of hunters and
trappers in the country, where Ross was stationed, and
Ross made up his mind to leave the country and aban-
don the business which he had so long followed. He
was still merely a clerk in the service of the great com-
pany. Finan McDonald, a Northwest veteran, now in
the service of the Hudson Bay Company, was to be in
charge of the people in the Snake country, and a little
later John Warren Dease, a chief trader in the new
company, reached Fort Nez Perces and told Ross that

Fur Hunters of the Far West

he had been named to take charge of the fort and the
country immediately about it, while Ross was to suc-
ceed McKenzie in charge of the Snake country.

Nevertheless, Ross was determined to go back to the
East and had started with his family, but on his way —
when he reached the Rocky Mountains — he received a
letter from Governor Simpson, offering him the man-
agement of the Snake country for three years at a
liberal salary. Ross hesitated to accept, but finally
did so, and went to Spokane House to make up his
party. McDonald had recently come in there and with
much grumbling; for he had had trouble with the Pie-
gan Blackfeet, in which one of his men had been shot
by treachery, and in a pitched battle afterward had with
the same party he lost seven more of his men.

The account of this battle may properly be inserted
here:

‘‘One day, when they had travelled until dark in
search of water, they found some at the bottom of a
deep and rocky ravine, down which they went and en-
camped. They had seen no traces of enemies during
the day, and being tired, they all went to sleep, without
keeping watch. In the morning, however, just at the
dawn of day, they were saluted from the top of the
ravine before they got up, with a volley of balls about
their ears; without, however, any being killed or
wounded: one of them had the stock of his gun pierced
through with a ball, and another of them his powder-
horn shivered to pieces; but this was all the injury they

Beyond the Old Frontier

sustained from the enemy’s discharge. The alarm was
instantly given, all hands in confusion sprang up and
went out to see what was the matter; some with one
shoe on and the other off, others naked, with a gun in
one hand and their clothes in the other. When they
perceived the Indians on the top of the rocks, yelling
and flourishing their arms, the whites gave a loud
huzza, and all hands were collected together in an
instant; but the Indians instead of taking advantage
of their position, wheeled about and marched off with-
out firing another shot.

“McDonald, at the head of thirty men, set out to
pursue them; but finding the ravine too steep and rocky
to ascend, they were apprehensive that the sudden dis-
appearance of the Indians was a stratagem to entrap
them, when they might have been popped off by the
enemy from behind stones and trees, without having
an opportunity of defending themselves. Acting on
this opinion, they returned, and taking a supply of
powder and ball with them, they mounted their horses,
to the number of forty-five, and then pursued the
enemy, leaving twenty men behind to guard the camp.
When our people got to the head of the ravine, the
Indians were about a mile off*, and all on foot, having
no horses, with the exception of five for carrying their
luggage; and our people, before they could get up
with them, had to pass another ravine still deeper and
broader than the one they were encamped in, so that
before they got down on one side of it the enemy had

Fur Hunters of the Far West

got up on the other side. And here again the Indians
did not avail themselves of their advantage, but al-
lowed our people to follow without firing a shot at
them, as if encouraging them on; and so bold and con-
fident were they, that many of them bent themselves
down in a posture of contempt, by way of bidding
them defiance.

'‘As soon as our people had got over the second
ravine, they took a sweep, wheeled about, and met the
Indians in the teeth; then dismounting, the battle
began, without a word being spoken on either side.
As soon as the firing commenced, the Indians began
their frantic gestures, and whooped and yelled with the
view of intimidating; they fought like demons, one
fellow all the time waving a scalp on the end of a pole:
nor did they yield an inch of ground till more than
twenty of them lay dead; at last, they threw down
their guns, and held up their hands as a signal of peace.
By this time our people had lost three men, and not
thinking they had yet taken ample vengeance for
their death, they made a rush on the Indians, killed
the fellow who held the pole, and carried off the scalp
and the five horses. The Indians then made a simul-
taneous dash on one side, and got into a small coppice
of wood, leaving their dead on the spot where they fell.
Our people supposed that they had first laid down their
arms and next taken to the bush because they were
short of ammunition, as many of the shots latterly
were but mere puffs. Unfortunately for the Indians,

Beyond the Old Frontier

the scalp taken proved to be none other than poor
Anderson’s, and this double proof of their guilt so
enraged our people, that to the bush they followed
them.

“McDonald sent to the camp for buck-shot, and
then poured vollej^s into the bush among them, from
the distance of some twenty or thirty yards, till they
had expended fifty-six pounds weight; the Indians all
this time only firing a single shot now and then when
the folly and imprudence of our people led them too
near; but they seldom missed their mark, and here
three more of the whites fell. At this part of the
conflict, two of our own people, an Iroquois and a
Canadian, got into a high dispute which was the bravest
man; when the former challenged the latter to go with
him into the bush and scalp a Piegan. The Canadian
accepted the challenge; taking each other by one hand,
with a scalping knife in the other, savage like, they
entered the bush, and advanced until they were within
four or five feet of a Piegan, when the Iroquois said, ‘I
will scalp this one, you go and scalp another;’ but just
as the Iroquois was in the act of stretching out his hand
to lay hold of his victim the Piegan shot him through
the head, and so bespattered the Canadian with his
brains that he was almost blind; the latter, however,
got back again to his comrades, but deferred taking the
scalp.

“M’Donald and his men being fatigued with firing,
thought of another and more effectual plan of destroy-

Fur Hunters of the Far West

ing the Piegans. It blew a strong gale of wind at the
time, so they set fire to the bush of dry and decayed
wood; it burnt with the rapidity of straw, and the
devouring element laid the whole bush in ashes in a
very short time. When it was first proposed, the ques-
tion arose who should go and fire the bush, at the muz-
zle of the Piegans’ guns. ^The oldest man in the
camp,’ said M’Donald; ‘and I’ll guard him.’ The lot
fell upon Bastony, a superannuated hunter on the
wrong side of seventy; the poor and wrinkled old man
took the torch in his hand and advanced, trembling
every step with the fear of instant death before him;
while M’Donald and some others walked at his heels
with their guns cocked. The bush was fired, the party
returned, and volleys of buck-shot were again poured
into the bush to aid the fire in the work of destruction.

“About one hundred yards from the burning bush,
was another much larger bush, and while the fire was
consuming the one, our people advanced and stationed
themselves at the end of the other, to intercept any of
the Piegans who might attempt the doubtful alter-
native of saving themselves by taking refuge in it. To
ensure success, our people left open the passage from
the one bush to the other, while they themselves stood
in two rows, one upon each side, with their guns cocked;
suddenly the half-roasted Piegans, after uttering a
scream of despair, burst through the flames and made a
last and expiring effort to gain the other bush; then
our people poured in upon each side of them a fatal

lOO

Beyond the Old Frontier

volley of ball and buck-shot, which almost finished
what the flames had spared. Yet, notwithstanding all
these sanguinary precautions, a remnant escaped by
getting into the bush. The wounded victims who
fell under the last volley, the Iroquois dealt with in their
own way — with the knife.

‘‘After the massacre was ended, our people col-
lected their dead and returned to the camp at sunset;
not we should suppose to rejoice, but rather to mourn.
We afterwards learned that only seven out of the
seventy-five which formed the party of the unfortunate
Piegans, returned home to relate the mournful tale.
Although our people were drawn into this unfortunate
affair with justice on their side, yet they persevered in
it with folly and ended it with cruelty: no wonder, then,
if they afterwards paid for their cruelty with their
own blood.”

After a short stay at Spokane House, Ross, who had
been given — on paper — a force of eighty men, was able
to get together only forty, a number of whom were
quite unsatisfactory. At the Flathead River post, at
the foot of the mountains, he picked up fourteen more,
making the whole party fifty-five. It was a curious
mixture of Americans, Canadian Frenchmen, half-
breeds, Iroquois, natives of eastern Canada, Saulteaux,
Crees, Spokanes, Kutenais, Flatheads, Kalispels, Pa-
louse, and one Snake. Of the Canadians, five were
more than sixty years of age, and two more than
seventy. The Iroquois were good hunters, but un-

Fur Hunters of the Far West

lOI

trustworthy, while the local Indians were useful chiefly
in looking after the horses. Twenty-five of the people
were married, so that in the company there were
twenty-five women and sixty-four children. They
carried with them a brass three-pounder cannon, more
than two hundred beaver-traps, and about four hundred
horses. It is understood, of course, that they carried
no provisions, depending wholly on their guns for food,
and Ross complains that on the day of starting they
had killed but one deer, a slender repast for one hun-
dred and thirty-seven hungry mouths.

Trouble with the Iroquois began almost at once.
Having received their advances, they thought little
about the debts that they owed for guns, horses, traps,
clothing, and ammunition.

At a defile in Hell’s Gate, where the Piegans and Black-
feet used to cross the mountains on their war journeys,
they camped for some little time, and here the hunters,
to their great satisfaction, killed four wild horses, be-
sides twenty-seven elk and thirty-two small deer. The
capture of the horses was a great triumph for the hunt-
ers, who were more delighted with their success in this
little adventure than if they had killed a hundred
buffalo.

Not long after this, two Iroquois deserted and turned
back, and the leader, having previously lost another
Iroquois by desertion, felt that this must be stopped.
He therefore followed the deserters about sixteen
miles back on the trail and captured them, but they

102

Beyond the Old Frontier

refused to return, and it was necessary to threaten to
tie one of them to a horse’s tail before he would con-
sent to go.

They were frequently meeting Indians; Piegans first
and then Nez Perces, and whenever strangers were met
with, the Iroquois traded off their property, even to
their guns, receiving in return what Ross calls “trash.”

The weather was now growing cold, partly, perhaps,
because they were climbing all the time. Beaver were
plenty and elk, deer, and mountain goats extremely
abundant. They were now getting close to the head
of the Flathead River and were fronting great moun-
tains, largely snow-covered. Six men were sent out to
try to find a way through the mountains, and at length
returned reporting that it was quite impracticable to
cross the mountains here, because after reaching the
plateau above the timber the snow was five or six feet
deep for about twelve long miles. Beyond the moun-
tains, however, they said, was a large open plain where
the snow was scarcely a foot deep. These scouts had
killed buffalo and brought in backloads of it. To travel
with horses for a dozen miles, through snow five or six
feet deep and crusted, was quite impossible, and Ross
was bitterly discouraged. Nevertheless, he deter-
mined that this was the best way to cross the moun-
tains, and sent the men back to camp, with instructions
to greatly modify their story for the ears of the people.
The outcome of it was that, after much counselling and
more or less quarrelling, the party started to break a

Fur Hunters of the Far West

103

way through this snow-covered plateau. It proved
much more difficult than even Ross had supposed,
but by working with horses and men and using wooden
mallets to break the crust, and shovels to cut the way,
they at length, thirty-three days from the time they
reached that camp and after twenty-one days’ extraor-
dinary labor, got through the snow and came out on
the other side, where there was feed for the horses and
game for the men. Now, however, they were in the
enemy’s country, for it was here that the Blackfeet
were constantly travelling about, and just beyond here
that McDonald had lost seven of his men the year
before.

Just after they came down out of the mountains,
they crossed the trail made by Lewis and Clark up the
middle fork of the Missouri, nearly twenty years before.

After they had passed beyond the snow, they found
beaver extraordinarily abundant in certain localities.
At one place they took ninety-five beaver in a single
morning and sixty more during the same day. But,
as they continued to go down the mountains, the
beaver became more scarce, but the snow was less.
The young grass had started, and buffalo were enor-
mously abundant, though at this time not fat. Black-
feet and Piegan war roads were constantly crossed,
and fresh tracks of men and horses often seen. These
signs made Ross more and more vigilant, and pres-
ently he discovered that his Iroquois were turning out
their horses to wander among the hills, and although

104

Beyond the Old Frontier

he warned them against repeating this, they paid little
attention to the warning. Under such carelessness it
was evident that any war-party discovering the trap-
pers would have no difficulty in running off the ani-
mals. These, though nominally belonging to the in-
dividuals who used them, had been obtained on credit
from the company, and if they were stolen, the loss
would be the company’s. Only a day or two later,
Martin, an Iroquois, was discovered to have turned
loose six horses, whereupon Ross sent out for the horses,
took them back into his own charge, gave Martin
credit for the horses, and proceeded to move camp.
Martin and his family remained sitting by the fire.
However, the other Iroquois brought them along on
some of their horses, and at night old men came to
Ross to intercede with him, begging him to give back
the horses to Martin. After much persuasion he did
so, and the example was not forgotten either by the
Iroquois or by others of the trappers.

The party proceeded eastward with disappointing
results, for they found few beaver. Before long, there-
fore, they turned back, and, passing over the divide
between the Salmon and Goddin Rivers, Ross sent off
eight men to trap it downstream, but made them leave
their horses behind, in order that they might more
readily conceal themselves from the enemy, for Piegan
Blackfeet were thought to be in the country. Mean-
time, the main party went off to John Day’s Valley to
supply themselves with buffalo meat, for recently

Fur Hunters of the Far West

105

game had been scarce and they had been wasteful of
food when they had passed through a country of
abundance.

From a camp in Day’s Valley, two men were sent to
Goddin River to bring back the eight who had been
trapping there, and these messengers, carelessly ad-
vancing toward a smoke, which they took to be the
fire of their own people, walked into the camp of a
Piegan war-party. Their horses were captured, but
the men threw themselves into the undergrowth and
escaped by creeping along the margin of the river under
its banks, which were overgrown with bushes. In the
middle of the second night, they reached the camp in
rags, with moccasins wholly worn out. A party of
thirty-five started in pursuit of the Piegans. They did
not overtake them, but found the eight trappers safe.
They had slept within half a mile of the Piegan camp,
neither party being aware of the presence of the other.

Passing over high, rough country, and pestered by
the Iroquois, who spent most of their time in trying to
get away from the main party, they reached the
Riviere aux Malades. Ross now thought it best to
let the Iroquois go off and hunt by themselves, but not
all of them wished to go, and two of those who had
given most trouble — Grey and Martin — preferred to
remain with the main party. On the Malades River,
there were good signs of beaver, and in one place they
counted one hundred and forty-eight poplar trees cut
down by that animal, in a space less than one hundred

io6

Beyond the Old Frontier

yards square. The first night they got fifty-two
beaver, but were troubled by the rising and the falling
of the water, caused, of course, by the melting of the
snows on the mountains.

One afternoon a Piegan war-party, discovered ap-
proaching the camp, caused the greatest excitement.
They did not attack, and presently Ross went out to
meet them, gave them some tobacco, and told them
to remain where they were. There were ninety-two
Indians, and after a time Ross invited them to the
camp, where they passed the night in smoking, dancing,
and singing. Ross secured the Piegan arms, ordered
forty of their horses hobbled and put in with the traders’
horses, and thus provided against any hostile action.
These Piegans claimed to be on a peace mission to
the Shoshoni, and denied all knowledge of the horses
taken from the two trappers only a few days before.
Ross believed that they felt themselves too few to at-
tack his party and planning to give them a fright, he
seized two of their horses and four of their guns, to
repay the loss of the horses and traps on Goddin River.
The Piegans were humble and apologetic and denied
everything, and finally Ross returned their property
and gave them a little tobacco and ammunition.
They went off in separate parties, but before they dis-
appeared in the mountains all gathered together again.

A little later another Piegan war-party came to the
camp in Ross’s absence; but he returned before they
had entered the camp. There were one hundred and

Fur Hunters of the Far West

107

ten of these, but they were badly armed, having only
twenty-three guns and little or no ammunition. They
professed to be friendly, and declared that they were
not trying to take the property of the whites; for two
nights before they had come into the camp and gone
about among the horses, and had left evidences of
their presence by moving a piece of meat which was
roasting at the fire, and by rubbing two spots of red
paint on a riding saddle at one of the tent doors.
The chief who talked with Ross seemed so honest and
frank that he was given some ammunition, tobacco,
and a knife, and the two parties separated in a very
friendly manner. Only a little later, they came across
a Snake camp, to which also had come a number of
Cayuse chiefs, and here were held ceremonial smokes
and speeches, of a most friendly character.

Dropping down Reid’s River and trapping con-
stantly, the party at last reached another great Snake
camp. By this time they had 1,855 beaver. In this
neighborhood there was more or less trouble. The
Indians practised all sorts of stratagems to secure the
horses of the trappers, and did succeed in getting ten
of them, eight of which were later returned. The na-
tives also took a number of traps. Moreover, as they
were not punished for what they did, their boldness
grew, and at last an Indian picked up a bundle and
when it was taken from him by force, he strung his
bow and threatened to shoot the man. Ross gave his
people much good advice, and pointed out that if they

io8

Beyond the Old Frontier

would stick together they were perfectly able to cow
the Snakes; but they must act together. His plan
was to capture and hold ten of the Indians’ horses as
security for property that had been taken. They went
out and caught the horses, and when they returned
with them to the camp, finding two Indians there,
they counted out one hundred bullets, and loaded their
cannon, letting the Indians see what was being done,
and sent a message to the camp that as soon as the
stolen traps had been delivered, they would give up
the horses.

“When the two Indians had returned with the mes-
sage to their camp, I instructed my people to have their
arms in readiness, in such a position that each man could
have his eye upon his gun, and could lay hold of it at
a moment’s warning; but to appear as careless as if
nothing was expected. That if the Indians did come,
as they certainly would, to claim their horses, and in-
sisted on taking them, I would reason the matter with
them; and when that failed, I would give the most for-
ward of them a blow with my pipe stem, which was
to be the signal for my people to act. The moment,
therefore, the signal was given, the men were to shout
according to Indian custom, seize, and make a demon-
stration with their arms; but were not to fire, until I
had first set the example. During this time there
was a great stir in the Indian camp; people were ob-
served running to and fro, and we awaited the result
with anxiety.

Fur Hunters of the Far West

109

‘*Not long after, we saw a procession of some fifty
or sixty persons, all on foot and unarmed, advancing
in a very orderly manner towards our camp; in front
of which was placed our big gun, well loaded, pointed,
and the match lit. My men were in the rear, whistling,
singing, and apparently indifferent. On the Indians
coming up to me and another man, who stood in front
to receive them near to where the horses were tied, I
drew a line of privilege, and made signs for them not
to pass it. They, however, looked very angry, and
observed the line with reluctance, so that I had to
beckon to them several times before I was obeyed, or
could make them understand. At last they made a
sort of irregular halt.

“I then made signs for the Indians to sit down; but
they shook their heads. I asked where wa^ Ama-
ketsa; but got no satisfactory reply. One of the fel-
lows immediately introduced the subject of the horses,
in very fierce and insolent language; I however, to
pacify him, and make friends, spoke kindly to them,
and began to reason the matter, and explain it to them
as well as I could; but the fellow already noticed, being
more forward and daring than the rest, sneered at my
argument, and at once laid hold of one of the horses
by the halter, and endeavoured to take it away with-
out further ceremony. I laid hold of the halter, in
order to prevent him, and the fellow every now and
then gave a tug to get the halter out of my hand; the
others kept urging him on, and they were the more

Beyond the Old Frontier

encouraged, seeing my people did not interfere; the
latter were, however, on the alert, waiting impatiently
for the signal, without the Indians being in the least
aware of it. Beginning to get a little out of humour,
I made signs to the Indian, that if he did not let go,
I would knock him down; but, prompted no doubt by
the strong party that backed him, and seeing no one
with me, he disregarded my threat by giving another
tug at the halter. I then struck him smartly on the
side of the head with my pipe stem, and sent him reel-
ing back among his companions; upon which my men
sprang up, seized their arms, and gave a loud shout!
The sudden act, with the terror conveyed by the cock-
ing of so many guns, so surprised the Indians that they
lost all presence of mind; throwing their robes, gar-
ments, and all from them, they plunged headlong into
the river, and swam with the current till out of dan-
ger, every now and then popping up their heads and
diving again, like so many wild fowl! In less than a
minute’s time, there was not a soul of the embassy to
be seen about our camp! Never was anything more
decisive.

“It may be satisfactory to the reader to know what
kind of pipe stem it was that one could strike a heavy
blow with. The pipe-bowls generally used, both by
Indians and Indian traders, are made of stone, and are
large and heavy; the stems resemble a walking-stick
more than anything else, and they are generally of
ash, and from two-and-a-half to three feet long.

Fur Hunters of the Far West

III

“We had intended removing camp the same day;
but after what had happened, I thought it better to
pass another day where we were, in order to give the
Snakes as well as ourselves an opportunity of making
up matters. Not a soul, however, came near us all
that day afterwards, and we were at a loss to find out
what was going on in the Snake camp. I therefore got
about twenty of my men mounted on horseback, to
take a turn round, in order to observe the movements
of the Indians, but they having brought me word that
the women were all employed in their usual duties, I
felt satisfied.

“During the following day, ten persons were ob-
served making for our camp, who, on arrival, spread
out a buffalo robe, on which was laid all our stolen
traps! some whole, some broken into several pieces,
which they had been flattening for knives; the whole
rendered almost useless to us. Ama-ketsa, who had
not been present at the affray of the preceding day,
accompanied this party, and made a long and appar-
ently earnest apology for the loss of our traps, and the
misunderstanding that ensued; but he did not forget
to exculpate his owm people from all blame, laying the
odium of the whole affair on the Banatees. We knew
the contrary: the War-are-ree-kas were the guilty
parties, and perhaps Ama-ketsa himself was not alto-
gether innocent; at least, some of his people said so.
We, however, accepted the apology, and the traps, as
they were; and delivering up all the horses, treated the

1 12 Beyond the Old Frontier

chief with due honours, satisfied that the business ended
so well.

‘'The chief had no sooner returned to his camp with
the horses, than a brisk trade was opened; the Indians,
men, women, and children, coming to us with as much
confidence as if nothing had happened. On the next
morning, while we were preparing to start, one of my
men fell from his horse and broke his thigh; we, how-
ever, got it so set, as not to prevent our removal.
Although everything wore the appearance of peace,
yet I thought it necessary to take precautions, in order
to avoid any trouble with the natives in passing their
camp. I therefore appointed ten men mounted on
horseback to go before, the camp followed in order
after, while myself and twenty men brought up the
rear; and all was peace and good order.’’

After a wide round from here they found them-
selves again on the Malades River, where thirty-seven
of the people were poisoned, apparently by beaver
meat, and it was from this circumstance that the river
got its name. Just beyond this, they captured a
Bannock, by whom they were told that the beavers
♦with the white flesh — supposedly poisonous — were al-
ways roasted by the Indians and never boiled; unless
roasted the meat was bad.

At a point on the Bear River the travelling party
observed two animals apparently playing in the water,
and on approaching the place these were found to be
black bears, one of which was shot. They found

Fur Hunters of the Far West

113

that the bears were apparently hunting a beaver
which was found concealed in the shoal water, and the
signs seemed to indicate that this was a hunting-place
where the bears often came to kill beaver.

Returning to Canoe Point, they rested for a couple
of days. Their horses, which, of course, were unshod,
had become very tender-footed, and they provided
moccasins — so to speak — for no less than twenty-seven
head. This, of course, is an old Indian practice. Not
far from here they found buffalo in great numbers,
and began to kill and dry meat, and just here Ross
gives interesting testimony with regard to some char-
acteristics of the buffalo which is worth repeating in
these days, when the buffalo are no longer with us:

“While on the subject of buffalo, we may notice
that there is perhaps not an animal that roams in this,
or in the wilds of any other country, more fierce and
formidable, than a buffalo bull during the rutting sea-
son: neither the Polar bear, nor the Bengal tiger, sur-
pass that animal in ferocity. When not mortally
wounded, buffalo turn upon man or horse; but when
mortally wounded, they stand fiercely eyeing their
assailant, until life ebbs away.

“As we were travelling one day among a herd, we
shot at a bull and wounded him severely — so much
so, that he could neither run after us, nor from us;
propping himself on his legs, therefore, he stood look-
ing at us till we had fired ten balls through his body,
now and then giving a shake of the head. Although

1 14 Beyond the Old Frontier

he was apparently unable to stir, yet we kept at a
respectful distance from him; for such is the agility of
body and quickness of eye, and so hideous are the
looks of buffalo, that we dared not for some time ap-
proach him: at last, one more bold than the rest went
up and pushed the beast over; — he was dead! If not
brought to the ground by the first or second shot, let
the hunter be on his guard! The old bulls, when
badly wounded and unable to pursue their assailant,
prop themselves, as we have seen, and often stand in
that position till dead; but the head of a wounded
bull, while in an upright position, is invariably turned
to his pursuer; so if the hunter be in doubt, let him
change his position, to see if the bull changes his posi-
tion also. The surest mark of his being mortally
wounded and unable to stir, is, when he cannot turn
his head round to his pursuer; in that case, you may
safely walk up and throw him down.

‘‘The wild cow calves generally at one period, and
that period later by a month than our tame cattle; then
they all, as if with one accord, withdraw themselves
from the mountains and rocks, and resort in large
families to the valleys, where there is open ground,
with small clumps of wood affording shelter and pres-
ervation; as there they can see the approach of an
enemy from afar. The cows herd together in the cen-
tre, and the bulls graze in the distance: all in sight of
each other.

“The calving season is May, when the heat of the

Fur Hunters of the Far West 115

sun is sufficiently strong for the preservation of their
young in the open air; during which time the herd feeds
round and round the place as if to defend the young
calves from the approach of an enemy or from wolves.
The resident Indian tribes seldom hunt or disturb the
buffalo at this season, or before the first of July. The
Indians often assured me, that, during the calving sea-
son, the bulls keep guard; and have been frequently
known to assemble together, in order to keep at a dis-
tance any wolves, bears or other enemies, that might
attempt to approach the cows.”

A party sent after the Iroquois, who had gone off
to trap by themselves, returned on the 14th of Octo-
ber, bringing with them not only the ten Iroquois but
also seven American trappers. The Iroquois had had
their usual success. They had no beaver, no traps,
were naked and destitute of almost everything, and
were in debt to the American trappers for having
been brought to the Three Tetons. According to
their story, they had been attacked by a war-party
and robbed of nine hundred beaver, all their steel
traps, and twenty-seven horses. Ross had the small
satisfaction of saying to them, ‘H told you so,” but
this did not bring back the lost property. On the
other hand, other stories were told by certain of the
Iroquois, which suggested that perhaps the Iroquois
had sold their beaver to the Americans.

/ It was not long before another war-party made its
appearance, causing the usual excitement and alarm.

Beyond the Old Frontier

1 16

but these proved to be Nez Perces who had started for
the Blackfeet to steal horses. Before they got there,
the Blackfeet discovered and ambushed them, killing
six of the Nez Perces.

The newcomers warned Ross that enemies were
about, and as the trapping party was just about to enter
a narrow valley, Ross with thirty-five men set out to
examine it before the main party entered. They had
looked it partly over, when they saw distant Indians
hurrying to cover, and pursued them. The strangers
got into the timber. The trappers asked the Indians
to come out of the woods and smoke, and the In-
dians invited them to come into the woods and smoke;
but neither party accepted the invitation. The In-
dians claimed to be Crows, but Ross believed they were
Blackfeet. The traders picked up some robes, arms,
and moccasins, thrown away in flight, which they left
near the hiding-place of the Indians, and were just
about to return, when, as they were mounting, they saw
what looked like a large party of people coming. They
made preparations for a fight, and then discovered that
the approaching body consisted of a large band of
horses, driven by four men. Ross with fifteen men
charged toward the horses, whose drivers fled, leaving
the herd. Among the horses were forty-three which
belonged in Ross’s camp and one of those taken from
the two trappers sent as messengers to the Goddin
River party. The trappers overtook and captured
three of the Indians and took them back to the camp.

Fur Hunters of the Far West

117

There a court-martial was held and the three captives
were condemned to die, but Ross the next morning suc-
ceeded in letting them escape.

The return to the Flathead House was devoid of any
special events save those of ordinary prairie and moun-
tain travel. On the way they had to pass through deep
snows and across frozen rivers where the ice was not
always safe, and at one such point they lost a horse,
and two of the men came near sharing its fate. They
reached there the last of November.

The results of the trip amounted to five thousand
beaver, exclusive of other furs — a very successful
summer.

In a note appended to a brief vocabulary of the
Snake language given by Ross he makes the follow-
ing interesting prophecy: “I can state with undi-
minished confidence, that the Snake country towards
the Rocky Mountains is, and will be, rich in furs for
some generations to come, and full of interest to men
of enterprise. Indeed, the dangers by which it was then,
and still is, in a more or less degree, surrounded, will
always tend to preserve the furs in that inland quarter.”

Little more than two generations have passed, and
the fur in what used to be the Snake country has
absolutely disappeared. The dangers from Indians
have long been forgotten, though among the Indians
toward the coast the tradition of the terrible Blackfeet
yet persists, and they still speak of the Blackfeet as
“bad people.”

The following spring Governor Simpson wrote to

ii8

Beyond the Old Frontier

Ross, asking him to try and procure two Indian boys
to be educated at the Red River Colony. Ross suc-
ceeded in getting a Kutenai and a Spokane boy, each
ten or twelve years old. They were given up by the
Indians with great regret. One of the fathers said:
‘‘We have given you our hearts — our children are our
hearts; but bring them back again to us before they
become white men — we wish to see them once more
Indians — and after that, you can make them white men,
if you like.’’ The Kutenai boy died after two or three
years at school, but some years later the Spokane boy
returned to his people. He did not turn out very well.

The next spring Ross started to Spokane House to
turn in his furs, and then finally to leave the fur trade.
Here he met Governor Simpson, who promised him a
situation in Red River Colony until such time as he
should be able to establish himself. The governor
started back with the party. The return journey was
long and laborious. Isolated parties of Indians were
met, in all of whom Ross took keen interest. He gives
a graphic description of travel through mountains, and
draws a picture which gives some idea of the difficulties
of the journeys made by these early travellers, and of
the hardihood and endurance of those who performed
them.

Little does the traveller of the present day, hurrying
along by train, or by steamboat, comprehend the con-'
stant labor of those early days.

They were journeying on foot up the course of a
winding, rushing river:

Fur Hunters of the Far West 119

“When the current proves too strong or the water
too deep for one person to attempt [to cross] it alone, the
whole join hands together, forming a chain, and thus
cross in an oblique line, to break the strength of the
current; the tallest always leading the van. By their
united efforts, when a light person is swept off his
feet, which not unfrequently happens, the party drag
him along; and the first who reaches the shore always
lays hold of the branches of some friendly tree or bush
that may be in the way; the second does the same, and
so on till all get out of the water. But often they
are no sooner out than in again; and perhaps several
traverses will have to be made within the space of a
hundred yards, and sometimes within a few yards of
each other; just as the rocks, or other impediments
bar the way. After crossing several times, I regretted
that I had not begun sooner to count the number; but
before night, I had sixty-two traverses marked on
my walking-stick, which served as my journal through-
out the day.

“When not among ice and snow, or in the water, we
had to walk on a stony beach, or on gravelly flats,
being constantly in and out of the water: many had
got their feet blistered, which was extremely painful.
The cold made us advance at a quick pace, to keep
ourselves warm; and despatch was the order of the
day. The Governor himself, generally at the head,
made the first plunge into the water, and was not the
last to get out. His smile encouraged others, and his

120

Beyond the Old P'rontier

example checked murmuring. At a crossing-place
there was seldom a moment’s hesitation; all plunged
in, and had to get out as they could. And we had to
be lightly clad, so as to drag less water. Our general
course to-day was north-east, but we had at times to
follow every point of the compass, and might have
travelled altogether twenty miles, although in a direct
line we scarcely advanced eight. The ascent appeared
to be gradual, yet the contrary was indicated by the
rapidity of the current. After a day of excessive
fatigue, we halted at dusk, cooked our suppers, dried
our clothes, smoked our pipes, then, each spreading
his blanket, we laid ourselves down to rest; and, per-
haps, of all rest, that enjoyed on the voyage, after a
hard day’s labour, is the sweetest.

“To give a correct idea of this part of our journey,
let the reader picture in his own mind a dark, narrow
defile, skirted on one side by a chain of inaccessible
mountains, rising to a great height, covered with snow,
and slippery with ice from their tops down to the
water’s edge. And on the other side, a beach com-
paratively low, but studded in an irregular manner
with standing and fallen trees, rocks, and ice, and full
of drift-wood; over which the torrent everywhere
rushes with such irresistible impetuosity, that very few
would dare to adventure themselves in the stream.
Let him again imagine a rapid river descending from
some great height, filling up the whole channel be-
tween the rocky precipices on the south and the no

Fur Hunters of the Far West

I2I

less dangerous barrier on the north. And lastly, let
him suppose that we were obliged to make our way
on foot against such a torrent, by crossing and recross-
ing it in all its turns and windings from morning till
night, up to the middle in water, — and he will under-
stand that we have not exaggerated the difficulties to
be overcome in crossing the Rocky Mountains.”

At last the party reached the summit of the Rocky
Mountains, and passing by the Rocky Mountain House,
took canoes. Here they found Joseph Felix Larocque,
and from here they went on down the Athabasca in
canoes to Jasper House and to Fort Assiniboine; and
there again changing to horses, at last reached Ed-
monton. This was then the centre of a great trade,
and was under charge of Mr. Rowan, chief factor of
the Hudson Bay Company, and earlier a partner in the
Northwest Company.

The further journey back toward the Red River was
marked by the meeting, near Lake Bourbon — Cedar
Lake — with Captain Franklin and Dr. Richardson on
their overland Arctic expedition.

At Norway House Governor Simpson stopped, while
Ross was to keep on eastward. Governor Simpson,
after again trying to persuade Ross to remain in the
service of the company, made him a free grant of
one hundred acres of land in the Red River Settle-
ment, and paid him many compliments on his efficiency
and success in the Snake country.

With a party of twenty-seven people, a motley crew

122

Beyond the Old Frontier

of incompetents, Ross started from Norway House
for Red River. He quotes an interestingly boastful
speech by an ancient French voyageur:

“ ‘I have now,’ said he, ‘been forty-two years in this
country. For twenty-four I was a light canoe-man; I
required but little sleep, but sometimes got less than
I required. No portage was too long for me; all port-
ages were alike. My end of the canoe never touched
the ground till I saw the end of it. Fifty songs a
day were nothing to me. I could carry, paddle, walk,
and sing with any man I ever saw. During that
period, I saved the lives of ten bourgeois, and was
always the favourite, because when others stopped to
carry at a bad step, and lost time, I pushed on — over
rapids, over cascades, over chutes; all were the same
to me. No water, no weather, ever stopped the paddle
or the song. I have had twelve wives in the country;
and was once possessed of fifty horses, and six running
dogs, trimmed in the first style. I was then like a
bourgeois, rich and happy: no bourgeois had better-
dressed wives than I; no Indian chief finer horses; no
white man better-harnessed or swifter dogs. I beat
all Indians at the race, and no white man ever passed
me in the chase. I wanted for nothing; and I spent
all my earnings in the enjoyment of pleasure. Five
hundred pounds, twice told, have passed through my
hands; although now I have not a spare shirt to my
back, nor a penny to buy one. Yet, were I young again,
I should glory in commencing the same career again.

Fur Hunters of the Far West

123

I would gladly spend another half-century in the same
fields of enjoyment. There is no life so happy as a
voyageur’s life; none so independent; no place where
a man enjoys so much variety and freedom as in the
Indian country. Huzza! huzza! pour le pays sau-
vage!* After this cri de joie, he sat down in the boat,
and we could not help admiring the wild enthusiasm
of the old Frenchman. He had boasted and excited
himself, till he was out of breath, and then sighed with
regret that he could no longer enjoy the scenes of his
past life.”

On the journey there was excitement enough, storms
and running aground — usual incidents of canoe travel
— but at last they reached Red River, and Ross’s fur
trading journeys were over.

WHEN BEAVER SKINS WERE MONEY

BENT’S FORT

WHENEVER the history of the Southwest
shall be written, more than one long and in-
teresting chapter must be devoted to the
first permanent settlement on its plains and the first
permanent settler there. In the accounts of that wide
territory through which the old Santa Fe trail passed,
William Bent and Bent’s Old Fort have frequent
mention.

Who were the Bents and whence did they come.?
Silas Bent was born in the Colony of Massachusetts
in 1768. His father is said to have been one of those
who attended the famous ‘‘Boston Tea Party.” Silas
was educated for the bar, and came to St. Louis in
1804 at the time the government of Louisiana was
turned over to the American authorities. Here he
served as a judge of the Superior Court, and here he
resided until his death, in 1827.

Of his seven sons, John was educated for the bar
and became a well-known attorney of St. Louis. The
youngest son, Silas, as flag-lieutenant of the flag-ship

127

128

Beyond the Old Frontier

“Mississippi,” was with Perry in Japan, and wrote a
report on the Japan current for an American scientific
society. He delivered addresses on meteorology in
St. Louis in 1879, and on climate as affecting cattle-
breeding in the year 1884. Four other sons — Charles,
William W., and later George and Robert — were prom-
inent in the Indian trade on the upper Arkansas and
elsewhere between 1820 and 1850, and remained trading
in that region until they died.

The leading spirit in this family of Indian traders
was William W. Bent. Early in life Charles and Wil-
liam Bent had been up on the Missouri River working
for the American Fur Company. Colonel Bent stated
to his son George that he went up there in the year
1816, when very young.^ Very likely he was then a
small boy only ten or twelve years old. It was there
that Charles and William Bent became acquainted
with Robert Campbell, of St. Louis, who remained a
firm friend of the brothers throughout his life. Wil-
liam Bent could speak the Sioux language fluently and
the Sioux had called him Wa-si'cha-chischF-la, meaning
Little White Man, a name which confirms the state-
ment that he entered the trade very young, and seems
to warrant the belief that his work for the fur com-
pany was at some post In the Sioux country.

In his testimony before the joint commission which
inquired into Indian affairs on the plains in 1865,

^The history of The Bent Family in America gives the date of William
Bent’s birth as 1809, which can hardly be made to agree with this statement.

When Beaver Skins Were Money 129

William Bent stated that he had first come to the
upper Arkansas and settled near the Purgatoire, just
below the present city of Pueblo, Colorado, in 1824;
that is to say, two years before he and his brother
began to erect their first trading establishment on the
Arkansas. Previous to this time William Bent had
been trapping in the mountains near there, and may
very well have done some individual trading with the
Indians.

William Bent was undoubtedly the first permanent
white settler in what is now Colorado, and for a very
long time he was not only its first settler, but remained
its most important white citizen.

By his fair and open dealings, by his fearless conduct,
and by his love of justice, William Bent soon won the
respect and confidence of the Indians with whom he
had to do. Among the rough fraternity of mountain
trappers he was also very popular, his reputation for
courage being remarkable even among that class of
daring men. He was tirelessly active in prosecuting
the aims of his trade, making frequent trips to the
camps of the various tribes with which he, and later
his company, had dealings, and to the Mexican settle-
ments in the valley of Taos and to Santa Fe. Every
year, probably from 1824 to 1864, he made at least
one journey from the fort on the Arkansas, across the
plains of Colorado, Kansas, and Missouri, to the settle-
ments on the Missouri frontier.

About 1835 William Bent married Owl Woman, the

130 Beyond the Old Frontier

daughter of White Thunder, an important man among
the Cheyennes, then the keeper of the medicine arrows.
Bent’s Fort was his home, and there his children were
born, the oldest, Mary, about 1836, Robert in 1839 —
his own statement made in 1865 says 1841 — George in
July, 1843, and Julia in 1847. Owl Woman died at the
fort in 1847 in giving birth to Julia, and her husband
afterward married her sister. Yellow Woman. Charles
Bent was the child of his second marriage.

William Bent appears to have been the first of the
brothers to go into the Southwestern country to trade
for fur, but Charles is said to have gone to Santa Fe
as early as 1819, and a little later must have joined
William. The two, with Ceran St. Vrain and one of
the Chouteaus, established the early trading post near
the Arkansas. After occupying this stockade for two
years or more, they moved down below Pueblo and
built another stockade on the Arkansas. Two years
later they began to build the more ambitious post
afterward known as Bent’s, or Fort William, or Bent’s
Old Fort. George and Robert Bent apparently did
not come out to the fort until after it was completed —
perhaps after it had been for some time in operation.
Benito Vasquez was at one time a partner in the com-
pany.

It was in 1828 that the Bent brothers, with St. Vrain,
began this large fort, fifteen miles above the mouth of
Purgatoire River. It was not completed until 1832.
Four years seems a long time to be spent in the con-

When Beaver Skins Were Money 13 1

struction of such a post, even though it was built of
adobe brick, but there were reasons for the delay.
Charles Bent was determined that the fort should be
built of adobes in order to make it fireproof, so that
under no circumstances could it be burned by the
Indians. Besides that, adobes were much more dura-
ble and more comfortable — cool in summer, warm in
winter — than logs would have been. When the ques-
tion of how the fort should be built had been decided,
Charles Bent went to New Mexico, and from Taos and
Santa Fe sent over a number of Mexicans to make
adobe brick. With them he sent some wagon-loads of
Mexican wool to mix with the clay of the bricks, thus
greatly lengthening the life of the adobes.

Only a short time, however, after the laborers had
reached the intended site of the fort, smallpox broke
out among them, and it was necessary to send away those
not attacked. William Bent, St. Vrain, Kit Carson,
and other white men who were there caught the small-
pox from the Mexicans, and though none died they
were so badly marked by it that some of the Indians
who had known them well in the early years of the
trading did not recognize them when they met again.

During the prevalence of the smallpox at the post
William Bent sent a runner, Francisco, one of his Mex-
ican herders, north, to warn the Cheyennes not to come
near the post. Francisco set out for the Black Hills,
and on his way encountered a large war-party of
Cheyennes on their way to the fort. He told them of

132 Beyond the Old Frontier

what had happened, and warned them to return north
and not to come near the post until sent for. The
Cheyennes obeyed, and it was not until some time
later, when all at Fort William had recovered and
when the temporary stockade with all the infected
material that it contained had been burned, that Bent
and St. Vrain, with a few pack-mules, started north for
the Black Hills to find the Cheyennes and invite them
to return to the post. The year of this journey has
been given me as 1831. Perhaps it may have been a
year earlier.

After the smallpox had ceased, more Mexican labor-
ers were sent for, and work on the fort was resumed.
Not long before his death. Kit Carson stated that at
one time more than a hundred and fifty Mexicans were
at work on the construction of the post.

Accounts of the dimensions of the fort differ, but on
certain points all agree: that it was of adobes, set
square with the points of the compass, and on the north
bank of the Arkansas River. Garrard says that the
post was a hundred feet square and the walls thirty
feet in height. Another account says that the walls
ran a hundred and fifty feet east and west and a hun-
dred feet north and south, and that they were seven-
teen feet high. J. T. Hughes, however, in his Doni-
phan s Expedition, printed in Cincinnati in 1848, says:

‘‘Fort Bent is situated on the north bank of the Ar-
kansas, 650 miles west of Fort Leavenworth, in lati-
tude 38° 2' north, and longitude 103° 3' west from

When Beaver Skins Were Money 133

Greenwich. The exterior walls of this fort, whose fig-
ure is that of an oblong square, are fifteen feet high
and four feet thick. It is 180 feet long and 135 feet
wide and is divided into various compartments, the
whole built of adobes or sun-dried bricks.’’

At the southwest and northeast corners of these walls
were bastions, or round towers, thirty feet in height
and ten feet in diameter inside, with loopholes for
muskets and openings for cannon. Garrard speaks of
the bastions as hexagonal in form.

Around the walls in the second stories of the bastions
hung sabres and great heavy lances with long, sharp
blades. These were intended for use in case an at-
tempt were made to take the fort by means of ladders
put up against the wall. Besides these cutting and
piercing implements, the walls were hung with flint-lock
muskets and pistols.

In the east wall of the fort was a wide gateway
formed by two immense swinging doors made of heavy
planks. These doors were studded with heavy nails
and plated with sheet-iron, so that they could never
be burned by the Indians. The same was true of the
gateway which entered the corral, to be described
later.

Over the main gate of the fort was a square watch
tower surmounted by a belfry, from the top of which
rose a flagstaff. The watch tower contained a single
room with windows on all sides, and in the room was
an old-fashioned long telescope, or spy-glass, mounted

134

Beyond the Old Frontier

on a pivot. Here certain members of the garrison, re-
lieving each other at stated intervals, were constantly
on the lookout. There was a chair for the watchman
to sit in and a bed for his sleeping. If the watchman,
through his glass, noticed anything unusual — for ex-
ample, if he saw a great dust rising over the prairie —
he notified the people below. If a suspicious-looking
party of Indians was seen approaching, the watchman
signalled to the herder to bring in the horses, for the
stock was never turned loose, but was always on herd.

In the belfry, under a little roof which rose above the
watch tower, hung the bell of the fort, which sounded
the hours for meals. Two tame white-headed eagles
kept at the fort were sometimes confined within this
belfry, or at others were allowed to fly about free, re-
turning of their own accord to sleep in the belfry.
One of these eagles finally disappeared, and for a long
time it was not known what had become of it. Then
it was learned that it had been killed for its feathers by
a young Indian at some distance from the fort.

At the back of the fort over the gate, which opened
into the corral, was a second-story room rising high
above the walls, as the watch tower did in front.
This room — an extraordinary luxury for the time —
was used as a billiard-room during the later years of
the post. It was long enough to accommodate a large
billiard-table, and across one end of the room ran a
counter, or bar, over which drinkables were served.
These luxuries were brought out by Robert and George

When Beaver Skins Were Money 135

Bent, young men who did not come out to the fort
until some time after it had been constructed, and
who, being city-dwellers — for I have no record of their
having any early experience of frontier life — no doubt
felt that they required city amusements.

The watch tower and billiard-room were supported
on heavy adobe walls running at right angles to the
main enclosing walls of the fort, and these supporting
walls formed the ends of the rooms on either side of
the gates in the outer walls.

The stores, warehouses, and living-rooms of the post
were ranged around the walls, and opened into the
patio, or courtyard — the hollow square within. In
some of the books dealing with these old times it is
said that when the Indians entered the fort to trade,
cannon were loaded and sentries patrolled the walls
with loaded guns. This may have been true of the
early days of the fort, but it was not true of the latter
part of the decade between 1840 and 1850. At that
time the Indians, or at least the Cheyenne Indians,
had free run of the post and were allowed to go up-
stairs, on the walls, and into the watch tower. The
various rooms about the courtyard received light and
air from the doors and windows opening out into this
courtyard, which was gravelled. The floors of the
rooms were of beaten clay, as was commonly the case
in Mexican houses, and the roofs were built in the same
fashion that long prevailed in the West. Poles were
laid from the front wall to the rear, slightly inclined

136

Beyond the Old Frontier

toward the front. Over these poles twigs or brush
were laid, and over the brush clay was spread, tramped
hard, and gravel thrown over this. These roofs were
used as a promenade by the men of the fort and their
families in the evenings. The top of the fort walls
reached about four feet above these roofs, or breast-
high of a man, and these walls were pierced with loop-
holes through which to shoot in case of attack.

Hughes in his Doniphan s Expedition says: “The

march upon Santa Fe was resumed Aug. 2, 1846, after
a respite of three days in the neighborhood of Fort
Bent. As we passed the fort the American flag was
raised in compliment to our troops and in concert
with our own streamed most animatingly on the gale
that swept from the desert, while the tops of the houses
were crowded with Mexican girls and Indian squaws,
beholding the American Army.”

On the west side of the fort and outside the walls
was the horse corral. It was as wide as the fort and
deep enough to contain a large herd. The walls were
about eight feet high and three feet thick at the top.
The gate was on the south side of the corral, and so
faced the river. It was of wood, but was completely
plated with sheet-iron. More than that, to prevent
any one from climbing in by night, the tops of the
walls had been thickly planted with cactus — a large
variety which grows about a foot high and has great
fleshy leaves closely covered with many and sharp
thorns. This grew so luxuriantly that in some places

When Beaver Skins Were Money 137

the leaves hung down over the walls, both within and
without, and gave most efficient protection against
any living thing that might wish to surmount the wall.

Through the west wall of the fort a door was cut,
leading from the stockade into the corral, permitting
people to go through and get horses without going
outside the fort and opening the main gate of the cor-
ral. This door was wide and arched at the top. It
was made large enough, so that in case of necessity —
if by chance an attacking party seemed likely to cap-
ture the horses and mules in the corral — the door could
be opened and the herd run inside the main stockade.

About two hundred yards to the south of the fort,
and so toward the river bank, on a little mound, stood
a large ice-house built of adobes or sun-dried bricks.
In winter when the river was frozen this ice-house
was filled, and in it during the summer was kept all
the surplus fresh meat — buflFalo tongues, antelope,
dried meat and tongues — and also all the bacon. At
times the ice-house was hung thick with flesh food.

On hot days, with the other little children, young
George Bent used to go down to the ice-house and
get in it to cool off, and his father's negro cook used
to come down and send them away, warning them not
to go in there from the hot sun, as it was too cold
and they might get sick. This negro cook, Andrew
Green by name, a slave owned by Governor Charles
Bent, was with him when he was killed in Taos, and
afterward came to the fort and was there for many

138

Beyond the Old Frontier

years, but was at last taken back to St. Louis and
there set free. He had a brother “Dick,” often
mentioned in the old books.

Besides Bent’s Fort, Bent and St. Vrain owned
Fort St. Vrain, on the South Platte, opposite the
mouth of St. Vrain’s Fork, and Fort Adobe, on the
Canadian. Both these posts were built of adobe
brick. Fort St. Vrain was built to trade with the
Northern Indians; that is, with the Sioux and North-
ern Cheyennes, who seldom got down south as far
as the Arkansas River, and so would not often come
to Fort William. The Fort Adobe on the Canadian
was built by request of the chiefs of the Kiowa, Co-
manche, and Apache to trade with these people. The
chiefs who made this request were To'hau sen (Little
Mountain) and Eagle-Tail Feathers, speaking for
the Kiowa, Shaved Head for the Comanche, and
Poor (Lean) Bear for the Apache.

These in their day were men of importance. Shaved
Head was a great friend of the whites and a man of
much influence with his own people and with neigh-
boring tribes. He wore the left side of his head shaved
close, while the hair on the right side was long, hang-
ing down to his waist or below. His left ear was
perforated with many holes made by a blunt awl
heated red-hot, and was adorned with many little
brass rings. Before peace was made between the
Kiowas, Comanches, and Apaches in the year 1840, the
last three tribes were more or less afraid to visit Fort

When Beaver Skins Were Money 139

William, lest they should there meet a large camp of
their enemies, and Colonel Bent and the traders were
also especially anxious to avoid any collision at the
fort. Each tribe would expect the trader to take its
part, and this he could not do without incurring the
enmity of the other tribes. The wish of the trader
was to be on good terms with all tribes, and this William
Bent accomplished with singular discretion. Although
he had a Cheyenne wife, he was on excellent terms,
and always remained so, with the enemies of the
Cheyennes.

Both Fort St. Vrain and Fort Adobe, being built
of adobes, lasted for a long time, and their ruins have
been seen until quite recently. Near the ruins of
Fort Adobe two important fights have taken place,
to be referred to later.

In the business of the fort William Bent had the
direction of the trade with the Indians, while his
brother Charles seems to have had more to do with
affairs in the Mexican settlements, until his death
there, at the hands of the Mexicans and Pueblos, in
the year 1847. It is not certain when St. Vrain, Lee,
and Benito Vasquez became partners in the business,
nor how long they were interested in it. George and
Robert Bent, who came out from St. Louis, certainly
later than the two elder brothers, may have been
partners, but there is nothing to show that they were
so. Robert died in 1847.

Some time before this George Bent went to Mexico

140

Beyond the Old Frontier

and there married a Mexican girl, by whom he had
two children, a son and a daughter. The son, Rob-
ert, went to school in St. Louis. He died at Dodge
City, Kan., in 1875. George Bent was a great
friend of Frank P. Blair, whom he appointed guardian
for his children. He died at the fort about 1848 of
consumption, and was buried near his brother Robert
in the graveyard which lay a short distance northeast
of the northeast bastion of the fort. The old tailor,
a Frenchman, afterward planted cactus over George
Bent’s grave to protect it from the wolves and coyotes.
Their remains were later removed to St. Louis.

After the death of Charles Bent, in 1847, William
Bent continued his work. Perhaps St. Vrain may
have remained a partner for a time. Fitzpatrick speaks
of “Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain’s post” in 1850. Bent
was an active man and interested in many other proj-
ects besides the fort and trade with the Indians. He
bought sheep and mules in New Mexico and drove
them across the plains to the Missouri market. In
the forties, in company with several other men, he
secured a large land grant from the Mexican gov-
ernment in the Arkansas valley above the fort and
attempted to found a colony there. Mexican settlers
were established on the lands. The colonists were
inert, the Indians were hostile, and from these and
other causes the project proved a failure. In 1847
William Bent and St. Vrain drove a large herd of
Mexican cattle to the Arkansas and wintered them

When Beaver Skins Were Money 141

in the valley near the fort, thus making the first step
toward establishing the cattle industry, which many
years later so flourished on the plains.

Besides his lands near the fort. Bent had a fine
farm at Westport (now Kansas City), in Missouri,
and a ranch south of the Arkansas in the Mexican
territory. In 1846 he guided Colonel Price’s Mis-
souri regiment across the plains to New Mexico, and
was so popular among the volunteer officers that they
gave him the brevet of colonel, a title which stuck
to him until the day of his death.

GOVERNOR CHARLES BENT

Charles Bent was a close rival to his brother
William in the esteem of his fellow traders and the
trappers and Indians of the Arkansas. He seems
from the first, however, to have taken the most
active part in the Santa Fe trade of the company,
leaving the Indian trade to the other partners. Among
the traders and teamsters of the Santa Fe caravans
he was as much liked as William Bent was among the
trappers and Indians; indeed, on more than one occa-
sion, he was elected captain of the caravan and con-
ducted it safely to Santa Fe. These caravans of
Missouri traders were richly laden for those days. The
outfit of 1832 brought back from New Mexico $100,000
in specie and $90,000 in other property, including large

142 Beyond the Old Frontier

numbers of Mexican mules. In 1833 the caravan
with Bent as captain assembled at Diamond Springs,
on the Missouri frontier. There were 184 men, with
ninety-three large wagons loaded with goods. They
brought back ^100,000 in money and much other
property.

Charles Bent married a Mexican woman and made
his home at San Fernando,^ a small town in the val-
ley of Taos. He was popular among his Mexican
and Pueblo neighbors until he was appointed gov-
ernor of the territory by General Kearny, who marched
into New Mexico with his little army in the fall. Hav-
ing put Governor Bent and his civil government in
control of affairs, the general left a few troops in and
about Santa Fe, and with the rest of his forces marched
for California. Hardly had he gone when rumors of
a revolt of the Mexican and Indian population against
American rule began to be heard, and late in Decem-
ber evidence of such a plot was unearthed. These
events are set forth in the following letter from Gov-
ernor Bent to the Hon. James Buchanan, secretary of
state:

‘‘Santa Fe, N. M., Dec. 26, 1846. — Sir: I have been
informed indirectly that Col. A. W. Doniphan, who,
in October last, marched with his regiment against
the Navajo Indians, has made treaty of peace with
them. Not having been officially notified of this
treaty, I am not able to state the terms upon which
^ This name is spelled in various ways even by Mexicans.

When Beaver Skins Were Money 143

it has been concluded; but, so far as I am able to
learn, I have but little ground to hope that it will
be permanent.

“On the 17th inst. I received information from a
Mexican friendly to our Government that a conspiracy
was on foot among the native Mexicans, having for
its object the expulsion of the United States troops
and the civil authorities from the territory. I im-
mediately brought into requisition every means in my
power to ascertain who were the movers in the re-
bellion, and have succeeded in securing seven of the
secondary conspirators. The military and civil offi-
cers are now both in pursuit of the two leaders and
prime movers of the rebellion; but as several days
have elapsed, I am apprehensive that they will have
made their escape from the territory.

“So far as I am informed this conspiracy is con-
fined to the four northern counties of the territory,
and the men considered as leaders in the affair cannot
be said to be men of much standing.

“After obtaining the necessary information to desig-
nate and secure the persons of the participators in
the conspiracy, I thought it advisable to turn them
over to the military authorities in order that these
persons might be dealt with more summarily and
expeditiously than they could have been by the civil
authorities.

“The occurrence of this conspiracy at this early
period of the occupation of the territory will, I think,

144

Beyond the Old Frontier

conclusively convince our Government of the neces-
sity of maintaining here, for several years to come,
an efficient military force.”

Having taken measures for the arrest of the leaders
of the conspiracy. Governor Bent set out from Santa
Fe early in January for a few days’ visit to his family
at San Fernando, near the pueblo of Taos, inhabited
by civilized Pueblo Indians. Three Pueblo thieves
had been arrested and locked up in the calabozo at
San Fernando some time before Governor Bent’s
arrival. On the 19th of January a mob of Pueblos
entered the town and attempted to force the American
sheriff, Lee, to give up these three prisoners. Lee,
being helpless to resist the Indians’ demands, was
on the point of releasing his prisoners when the prefect
of the town, Vigil, a Mexican who had taken office
under the American Government, appeared among
the Indians and, calling out to them in a fury that
they were all thieves and scoundrels, ordered Lee
to hold the three prisoners. Enraged at the prefect’s
harsh words, the Pueblos rushed upon him, killed
him, cut his body into small pieces, and then, being
joined by a number of Mexicans, set out to kill every
American in the settlement.

Governor Bent’s house was the first they visited.
He was still in bed when aroused by his wife on the
approach of the mob, and he at once sprang up and
ran to a window, through which he called to a Mexican
neighbor to help him get through into his house and

When Beaver Skins Were Money 145

conceal him. The Mexican refused his aid and replied
that he must die. Seeing that all ways of escape
were blocked, the governor quietly left the window
and returned to his family. “He withdrew into his
room,” writes Mr. Dunn, “and the Indians began
tearing up the roof. With all the calmness of a noble
soul he stood awaiting his doom. His wife brought
him his pistols and told him to fight, to avenge him-
self, even if he must die. The Indians were exposed
to his aim, but he replied, ‘No, I will not kill any
one of them; for the sake of you, my wife, and you,
my children. At present my death is all these people
wish.’ As the savages poured into the room he ap-
pealed to their manhood and honor, but in vain.
They laughed at his plea. They told him they were
about to kill every American in New Mexico and
would begin with him. An arrow followed the word,
another and another, but the mode was not swift
enough. One, more impatient, sent a bullet through
his heart. As he fell, Tomas, a chief, stepped for-
ward, snatched one of his pistols, and shot him in
the face. They took his scalp, stretched it on a board
with brass nails, and carried it through the streets
in triumph.”

Garrard, who was at Taos in the days immediately
following the massacre, tells of Governor Bent’s death
in the following words:

“While here in Fernandez (San Fernandez) with
his family he was one morning early aroused from sleep

146

Beyond the Old Frontier

by the populace, who, with the aid of the Pueblos
de Taos, were collected in front of his dwelling, striv-
ing to gain admittance. While they were effecting
an entrance, he, with an axe, cut through an adobe
wall into another house. The wife of the occupant,
a clever, though thriftless, Canadian, heard him, and
with all her strength rendered him assistance, though
she was a Mexican. He retreated to a room, but
seeing no way of escaping from the infuriated assail-
ants who fired upon him through a window, he spoke
to his weeping wife and trembling children clinging
to him with all the tenacity of love and despair, and
taking a paper from his pocket endeavored to write,
but fast losing strength he commended them to God
and his brothers, and fell pierced by a Pueblo’s ball.
Rushing in and tearing off the gray-haired scalp,
the Indians bore it away in triumph.”

Among the people killed were Stephen Lee, Nar-
cisse Beaubien, and others.

When the news of Governor Bent’s death reached
the plains it created great excitement, for Charles
Bent was exceedingly popular with white people and
Indians alike. The Cheyennes proposed to send a
war-party to Taos and to kill all the Mexicans, but
William Bent would not permit it. A party from
Bent’s Fort set out for Taos, but on the road were
met by messengers announcing that Colonel Price
had marched into Taos at the head of two hundred
and fifty men and had had a fight with Mexicans and

When Beaver Skins Were Money 147

Indians in which two hundred were killed, and had
then bombarded the town and knocked down its walls.
A neighboring town was razed and a large amount of
property destroyed.

The killing of the people at Turley’s Ranch, on the
Arroyo Hondo, was a costly triumph to the Pueblos.
Here were shut up men who fought well for their lives.

Ruxton tells of the battle in graphic language:

‘‘The massacre of Turley and his people, and the
destruction of his mill, were not consummated without
considerable loss to the barbarous and cowardly assail-
ants. There were in the house, at the time of the
attack, eight white men, including Americans, French-
Canadians, and one or two Englishmen, with plenty of
arms and ammunition. Turley had been warned of
the intended insurrection, but had treated the report
with indifference and neglect, until one morning a
man named Otterbees, in the employ of Turley, and
who had been dispatched to Santa Fe with several
mule-loads of whiskey a few days before, made his
appearance at the gate on horseback, and hastily
informing the inmates of the mill that the New Mexi-
cans had risen and massacred Governor Bent and
other Americans, galloped off. Even then Turley felt
assured that he would not be molested, but, at the
solicitations of his men, agreed to close the gate of
the yard round which were the buildings of a mill and
distillery, and make preparations for defence.

“A few hours after, a large crowd of Mexicans

148

Beyond the Old Frontier

and Pueblo Indians made their appearance, all armed
with guns and bows and arrows, and advancing with
a white flag summoned Turley to surrender his
house and the Americans in it, guaranteeing that
his own life should be saved, but that every other
American in the valley of Taos had to be destroyed;
that the Governor and all the Americans at Fernandez
and the rancho had been killed, and that not one was
to be left alive in all New Mexico.

“To this summons Turley answered that he would
never surrender his house nor his men, and that, if
they wanted it or them, ‘they must take them.’

“The enemy then drew olF, and, after a short consul-
tation, commenced the attack. The first day they
numbered about 500, but the crowd was hourly aug-
mented by the arrival of parties of Indians from the
more distant pueblos, and of New Mexicans from
Fernandez, La Canada, and other places.

“The building lay at the foot of a gradual slope
in the sierra, which was covered with cedar-bushes.
In front ran the stream of the Arroyo Hondo, about
twenty yards from one side of the square, and on
the other side was broken ground, which rose abruptly
and formed the bank of the ravine. In rear and
behind the still-house was some garden-ground, inclosed
by a small fence, and into which a small wicket-gate
opened from the corral.

“As soon as the attack was determined upon, the
assailants broke, and, scattering, concealed themselves

When Beaver Skins Were Money 149

under the cover of the rocks and bushes that sur-
rounded the house.

“From these they kept up an incessant fire upon
every exposed portion of the building where they saw
the Americans preparing for defence.

“They, on their parts, were not idle; not a man
but was an old mountaineer, and each had his trusty
rifle with good store of ammunition. Wherever one
of the assailants exposed a hand’s breadth of his per-
son there whistled a ball from an unerring barrel.
The windows had been blockaded, loop-holes being
left to fire through, and through these a lively fire
was maintained. Already several of the enemy had
bitten the dust, and parties were constantly seen bear-
ing off* the wounded up the banks of the Canada.
Darkness came on, and during the night a continual
fire was kept up on the mill, while its defenders, reserv-
ing their ammunition, kept their posts with stern
and silent determination. The night was spent in
running balls, cutting patches, and completing the
defences of the building. In the morning the fight
was renewed, and it was found that the Mexicans had
effected a lodgment in a part of the stables, which
were separated from the other portions of the build-
ing, and between which was an open space of a few feet.
The assailants, during the night, had sought to break
down the wall, and thus enter the main building, but the
strength of the adobes and logs of which it was com-
posed resisted effectually all their attempts.

150

Beyond the Old Frontier

“Those in the stable seemed anxious to regain the
outside, for their position was unavailable as a means
of annoyance to the besieged, and several had darted
across the narrow space which divided it from the
other part of the building, and which slightly pro-
jected, and behind which they were out of the line of
fire. As soon, however, as the attention of the defend-
ers was called to this point, the first man who attempted
to cross, and who happened to be a Pueblo chief, was
dropped on the instant and fell dead in the center
of the intervening space. It appeared an object to
recover the body, for an Indian immediately dashed
out to the fallen chief and attempted to drag him
within the cover of the wall. The rifle which covered
the spot again poured forth its deadly contents, and
the Indian, springing into the air, fell over the body
of his chief, struck to the heart. Another and another
met with a similar fate, and at last three rushed at
once to the spot, and, seizing the body by the legs and
head, had already lifted it from the ground, when
three puffs of smoke blew from the barricaded window,
followed by the sharp cracks of as many rifles, and the
three daring Indians added their number to the pile of
corses which now covered the body of the dead chief.

“As yet the besieged had met with no casualties;
but after the fall of the seven Indians, in the manner
above described, the whole body of assailants, with
a shout of rage, poured in a rattling volley, and two
of the defenders of the mill fell mortally wounded.

When Beaver Skins Were Money 15 1

One, shot through the loins, suffered great agony,
and was removed to the still-house, where he was
laid upon a large pile of grain, as being the softest
bed to be found.

‘‘In the middle of the day the assailants renewed
the attack more fiercely than before, their baffled
attempts adding to their furious rage. The little garri-
son bravely stood to the defence of the mill, never
throwing away a shot, but firing coolly, and only
when a fair mark was presented to their unerring
aim. Their ammunition, however, was fast failing,
and to add to the danger of their situation the enemy
set fire to the mill, which blazed fiercely and threat-
ened destruction to the whole building. Twice they
succeeded in overcoming the flames, and, taking advan-
tage of their being thus occupied, the Mexicans and
Indians charged into the corral, which was full of
hogs and sheep, and vented their cowardly rage upon
the animals, spearing and shooting all that came
in their way. No sooner, however, were the flames
extinguished in one place, than they broke out more
fiercely in another; and as a successful defence was
perfectly hopeless, and the numbers of the assailants
increased every moment, a council of war was held
by the survivors of the little garrison, when it was
determined, as soon as night approached, that every-
one should attempt to escape as best he might, and
in the meantime the defence of the mill was to be
continued.

IS^ Beyond the Old Frontier

‘‘Just at dusk, Albert and another man ran to the
wicket-gate, which opened into a kind of inclosed
space, and in which was a number of armed Mexicans.
They both rushed out at the same moment, discharging
their rifles full in the faces of the crowd. Albert in
the confusion threw himself under the fence, whence
he saw his companion shot down immediately, and
heard his cries for mercy, mingled with shrieks of pain
and anguish, as the cowards pierced him with knives
and lances. Lying without motion under the fence,
as soon as it was quite dark he crept over the logs
and ran up the mountain, traveled day and night,
and, scarcely stopping or resting, reached the Green-
horn, almost dead with hunger and fatigue. Turley
himself succeeded in escaping from the mill and in
reaching the mountain unseen. Here he met a Mexi-
can, mounted on a horse, who had been a most inti-
mate friend of the unfortunate man for many years.
To this man Turley offered his watch (which was treble
its worth) for the use of his horse, but was refused.
The inhuman wretch, however, affected pity and
commiseration for the fugitive, and advised him to
go to a certain place where he would bring or send
him assistance; but on reaching the mill, which was
now a mass of fire, he immediately informed the Mexi-
cans of his place of concealment, whither a large party
instantly proceeded and shot him to death.

“Two others escaped and reached Santa Fe in
safety. The mill and Turley’s house were sacked

When Beaver Skins Were Money 153

and gutted, and all his hard-earned savings, which
were considerable, and concealed in gold about the
house, were discovered, and of course, seized upon,
by the victorious Mexicans.

“The Indians, however, met a few days after with a
severe retribution. The troops marched out of Santa
Fe, attacked their pueblo, and levelled it to the ground,
killing many hundreds of its defenders, and taking
many prisoners, most of whom were hanged.”

The death of Charles Bent, of his brother Robert
later in the same year, and of George Bent in 1848,
left only Colonel William Bent to carry on the business
of Bent’s Fort, and the trade with Mexico, together
with all the other operations in which he was engaged.
From this time forth William Bent worked alone.

Charles Bent had one son and two daughters.
Alfred, the son, died some years ago. One of the
daughters is said to be still living (1909) in Mexico,
very old. Tom Boggs married the other daughter.
She had one son, Charles Boggs. He and his mother
are both believed to be dead.

Ill

FORT ST. VRAIN AND FORT ADOBE

In its best days Bent’s Fort did a business surpassed
in volume by only one company in the United States
— John Jacob Astor’s great American Fur Company.
As already stated, besides Bent’s Fort the Bent part-

Beyond the Old Frontier

154

ners had a post on the South Platte at the mouth of
St. Vrain’s Fork, and one on the Canadian River,
called the Fort Adobe, for trade with tribes of Indians
hostile to the Cheyennes — trade which Colonel Bent,
of course, wished to hold.

St. Vrain’s Fork runs into the South Platte from the
north and west, a few miles south or southwest of
Greeley, Colo.

The site of the fort, known later and now as Adobe
Walls, was the scene of two hard battles between
white men and Indians. The first of these took place
in 1864, and was fought between the Kiowas, Apaches,
and Comanches, with a few Cheyennes and Arapahoes,
who were present chiefly as onlookers, and a detach-
ment of troops under the command of Kit Carson,
who then bore a commission in the United States army.
Carson had with him a number of Ute scouts. The
fight was a severe one, and Carson, after burning one
of the Kiowa villages, was obliged to retreat. In that
battle the Indians fought bravely, and one of them pos-
sessed a cavalry bugle and knew the various calls.
Carson and his officers generally acknowledged that
they were beaten by the Indians, and Carson finally
withdrew, the Indians saving most of their property,
though they lost a number of men. Among the Kiowas
killed was a young man who wore a coat of mail.

At this fight a spring-wagon was found in the posses-
sion of the Indians, and its presence in the Kiowa
camp has often been wondered at. At that time

When Beaver Skins Were Money 155

wagons were never used by plains Indians, whose only
vehicle was the travois, which consisted of two long
poles tied together over the horses’ withers, and drag-
ging on the ground behind. Across these poles, be-
hind the horses’ hocks, was lashed a platform, on which
a considerable burden might be transported.

The late Robert M. Peck, of Los Angeles, Cal., who
was a soldier, serving under Major Sedgwick, then in
command of troops along the Arkansas, not long before
his death told the story of an ambulance presented to
one of the Kiowa chiefs by the quartermaster of the
troops under Major Sedgwick, which may have been
this one. Mr. Peck said:

“That was before the Kiowa war broke out in 1859.
To' hau sen was always friendly to the whites, and tried
to keep the Kiowas peaceable. A small party of them,
his immediate following, kept out of that war. These
were mostly the old warriors, but the younger men,
who constituted a majority of the tribe, went on the
warpath after Lieut. George D. Bayard, of our regi-
ment killed one of the Kiowa chiefs, called Pawnee,
near Peacock’s ranch, on Walnut Creek.

“That summer (1859) we had been camping along
the Arkansas River, moving camp occasionally up or
down the river, trying to keep Satank and his turbu-
lent followers from beginning another outbreak. Old
To' hau sen used frequently to come to our camp. Lieut.
McIntyre wanted to get rid of this old ambulance,
which he had long had on his hands and which in

Beyond the Old Frontier

156

some of its parts was nearly worn out. After inducing
Major Sedgwick to have it condemned as unfit for
service, Lieut. McIntyre had his blacksmith fix it up
a little and presented it to the old chief. McIntyre
fitted a couple of sets of old harness to a pair of
To' hau sen’s ponies and had some of the soldiers
break the animals to work in the ambulance. But
when To' hau sen tried to drive the team, he could not
learn to handle the lines. He took the reins off the
harness and had a couple of Indian boys ride the horses,
and they generally went at a gallop. The old chief
seemed very proud of the ambulance.”

The second battle of the Adobe Walls took place in
June, 1874, when the Kiowas, Comanches, and Chey-
ennes made an attack on some buffalo-hunters, who
had built themselves houses in the shelter of the Adobe
Walls. The attack on the buffalo-hunters was made
in the endeavor to drive these hide-hunters out of the
buffalo country, in order to save the buffalo for them-
selves. The hunters finally drove off the Indians
with much loss, but soon afterward abandoned their
camp.

St. Vrain’s Fort and the Adobe Fort were abandoned
between 1840 and 1850, when the fur business began
to decline. By this time the beaver had begun to get
scarce, having been pretty thoroughly trapped out of
many of the mountain streams, and besides that the
silk hat had been invented, and was rapidly taking the
place of the old beaver hat, and the demand for beaver

When Beaver Skins Were Money 157

skins was greatly reduced. Now,. the mountains were
full of idle trappers, and a colony of these settled some
miles above Bent’s Fort, on the site of the present city
of Pueblo, Col., where they did a little farming and
a great deal of smuggling of liquor from Mexico to the
plains country. The stagnation in the beaver trade,
of course, affected the business of William Bent, who,
since the death of his brother Charles, had not lessened
his activities in trading. At this time his chief busi-
ness was in buffalo robes and in horses. The establish-
ment at the fort was now reduced, and in the early
fifties Bent tried to sell it to the government for a
military post, but failing to receive what he considered
a fair price for his property, in 1852 he laid large charges
of gunpowder in the buildings and blew the old fort
into the air.

In the winter of 1852-53 he had two trading houses
of logs among the Cheyennes at the Big Timbers, and
in the autumn of 1853 began to build his new fort
of stone on the north side of the Arkansas River, about
thirty-eight miles below old Fort William, and finished
it the same year. This was the winter camp of the
Cheyennes. At that time the Big Timbers extended
up the river beyond the fort, and within three miles of
the mouth of Purgatoire River, but by 1865 practically
all the timber had been cut down, leaving the fort
in the midst of a treeless prairie.

In 1858 gold was discovered in the country north-
west pf the new fort. There was a rush of gold-seekers

158 Beyond the Old Frontier

to the country the following year, and for some reason
William Bent decided to lease his post to the War
Department. This he did. A garrison was sent there.
It was at first intended to call the new fort Fort Faunt-
leroy, after the colonel of the old Second Dragoons,
but finally the place was rechristened Fort Wise, in
honor of the Governor of Virginia. The following
summer, i860, the troops built a stockade half a mile
above Bent’s old stone buildings. When the Civil
War began in 1861 and Governor Wise joined the Con-
federates, the post was again renamed; this time Fort
Lyon, in honor of General Lyon, who had been killed
not long before at Wilson’s Creek, Mo. In 1866 the
river threatened to carry away the post, and it was
moved twenty miles up the river.

Meanwhile William Bent had built a new stockade
on the north side of the river, in the valley of Purga-
toire Creek, and lived there, continuing to trade with
the Indians. Kit Carson lived on the same side of the
river, and not far from the Bent stockade. Carson
died at Fort Lyon, May 23, 1868, and his friend William
Bent, at his home. May 19, 1869. Ceran St. Vrain
died October 29, 1870. The last year of his life was
spent at Taos, N. M., but he died at the home of
his son Felix, in Mora, N. M.

In 1839 Mr. Farnham visited Bent’s Fort, and met
two of the Bent brothers, whose names he does not
give. They were clad like trappers, in splendid deer-
skin hunting-shirts and leggings, with long fringes on

When Beaver Skins Were Money 159

the outer seams of the arms and legs, the shirts deco-
rated with designs worked in colored porcupine quills,
and on their feet moccasins covered with quill work
and beading.

This great establishment, standing alone in the
midst of a wilderness, much impressed the traveller,
who not long before had left a region where men,
if not crowded together, were at least seen frequently,
for he had recently come from Peoria, 111. He spoke
of it as a solitary abode of men seeking wealth in the
face of hardship and danger, and declared that it
reared ‘‘its towers over the uncultivated wastes of
nature like an old baronial castle that has withstood
the wars and desolations of centuries.” To him the
Indian women, walking swiftly about the courtyard
and on the roofs of the houses, clad in long deerskin
dresses and bright moccasins, were full of interest;
while the naked children, with perfect forms and the
red of the Saxon blood showing through the darker hue
of the mother race, excited his enthusiasm. He won-
dered at the novel manners and customs that he saw,
at the grave bourgeois and their clerks and traders,
who, in time of leisure, sat cross-legged under a shade,
smoking the long-stemmed Indian stone pipe, which
they deliberately passed from hand to hand, until it
was smoked out; at the simple food — dried buffalo
meat and bread made from the unbolted wheaten meal
from Taos, repasts which lacked sweets and condiments.

Here, as it seemed to him, were gathered people from

i6o Beyond the Old Frontier

the ends of the earth: old trappers whose faces were
lined and leathery from long exposure to the snows of
winter and the burning heats of summer; Indians,
some of whom were clad in civilized clothing, but re-
tained the reserve and silence of their race; Mexican
servants, hardly more civilized than the Indians; and
all these seated on the ground, gathered around a
great dish of dried meat, which constituted their only
food. The prairie men who talked narrated their ad-
ventures in the North, the West, the South, and among
the mountains, while others, less given to conversation,
nodded or grunted in assent or comment. The talk
was of where the buffalo had been, or would be; of the
danger from hostile tribes; of past fights, when men
had been wounded and killed; and of attacks by In-
dians on hunters or traders who were passing through
the country.

He describes the opening of the gates on the winter’s
morning, the cautious sliding in and out of the Indians,
whose tents stood around the fort, till the court was
full of people with long, hanging black locks and
dark, flashing watchful eyes; the traders and clerks
busy at their work; the patrols walking the battle-
ments with loaded muskets; the guards in the bastion,
standing with burning matches by the carronades;
and when the sun set, the Indians retiring again to
their camp outside, to talk over their newly purchased
blankets and beads, and to sing and drink and dance;
and finally the night sentinel on the fort that treads

When Beaver Skins Were Money i6i

his weary watch away. “This/’ he says, “presents a
tolerable view of this post in the season of business.”

Soon after the construction of the fort a brass can-
non had been purchased in St. Louis and brought out
for the purpose of impressing the Indians. It was used
there for many years, but in 1846, when General Kearny
passed by, some enthusiastic employee charged it with
too great a load of powder, and in saluting the General
it burst. Some time after that an iron cannon was
brought from Santa Fe, and during the day always
stood outside the big gate of the fort, and was often
fired in honor of some great Indian chief when he came
into the post with his camp. The old brass cannon lay
about the post for some time, and is mentioned by
Garrard.

The passage of General Kearny’s little army on its
march into Mexico made a gala day at Bent’s Fort.
The army had encamped nine miles below the post to
complete its organization, for it had come straggling
across the plains from Missouri in small detachments.
On the morning of August 2 the fort was filled to over-
flowing with people: soldiers and officers, white trap-
pers, Indian trappers, Mexicans, Cheyennes, Arapa-
hoes, Kiowas, and Indian women, the wives of trappers
from the far away Columbia and St, Lawrence. Every
one was busy talking — a babel of tongues and jargons.
The employees, with their wives and children, had
gathered on the flat roofs to witness the wonderful
spectacle, while in a securely hidden nook Charles Bent

i62 Beyond the Old Frontier

was rejoicing the souls of a few of his army friends
with the icy contents of “a pitcher covered with the
dew of promise.”

A cloud of dust moving up the valley *‘at the rate
of a horse walking fast” at length announced the ap-
proach of the troops. At the head of the column rode
General Kearny, behind him a company of the old
First United States Dragoons, behind the dragoons a
regiment of Missouri volunteer cavalry and two bat-
teries of volunteer artillery, and of infantry but two
companies. It was an army of 1,700 men, and yet to
the Indians assembled at the fort it must have seemed
indeed an army, for perhaps few of them had ever
dreamed that there were half as many men in the whole
“white tribe.” The column drew near the fort,
swinging to the left, forded the river to the Mexican
bank, turned again up the valley, and went on its way,
a part to the city of Mexico, a part to California, and
a part only to Santa Fe, whence but a few months
later they would march to avenge the murder of
Charles Bent, now doling out mint-juleps to the loiter-
ing officers in the little room upstairs in the fort.

KIT CARSON, HUNTER

There were two or three employees at the fort
whose labors never ceased. These were the hunt-
ers who were obliged constantly to provide meat for

When Beaver Skins Were Money 163

the employees. Though the number of these varied,
there might be from sixty to a hundred men employed
at the fort, and many of these had families, so that
the population was considerable.

For a number of years the principal hunter for the
fort was Kit Carson, who was often assisted by a Mex-
ican or two, though in times when work was slack many
of the traders, trappers, employees, and teamsters de-
voted themselves to hunting. Often game could be
killed within sight of the post, but at other times it
was necessary for the hunter to take with him a wagon
or pack-animals, for he might be obliged to go several
days’ journey before securing the necessary food. It
was the duty of Carson and his assistants to provide
meat for the whole post. It was here that in 1843
Carson was married to a Mexican girl.

Though, as already suggested, difficulties sometimes
occurred with the Indians, these troubles were very
rare; yet the vigilance of the garrison, drilled into them
from earliest times by William Bent, never relaxed.

The animals belonging to the fort were a constant
temptation to the Indians. The fort stood on the open
plain by the riverside, and there was an abundance of
good grass close at hand, so that the herd could be
grazed within sight of the walls. Even so, however,
the Indians occasionally swept off the stock, as in 1839,
when a party of Comanches hid in the bushes on the
river-bank, ran off every hoof of stock belonging to the
post, and killed the Mexican herder.

164

Beyond the Old Frontier

Farnham while there heard this account of the event:
“About the middle of June, 1839, a band of sixty of
them [Comanches] under cover of night crossed the
river and concealed themselves among the bushes that
grow thickly on the bank near the place where the
animals of the establishment feed during the day. No
sentinel being on duty at the time, their presence was
unobserved: and when morning came the Mexican
horse guard mounted his horse, and with the noise
and shouting usual with that class of servants when so
employed, rushed his charge out of the fort; and riding
rapidly from side to side of the rear of the band, urged
them on and soon had them nibbling the short dry
grass in a little vale within grape shot distance of the
guns of the bastion. It is customary for a guard of
animals about these trading-posts to take his station
beyond his charge; and if they stray from each other,
or attempt to stroll too far, he drives them together,
and thus keeps them in the best possible situation to be
driven hastily to the corral, should the Indians, or other
evil persons, swoop down upon them. And as there is
constant danger of this, his horse is held by a long rope,
and grazes around him, that he may be mounted quickly
at the first alarm for a retreat within the walls. The
faithful guard at Bent’s, on the morning of the disaster
I am relating, had dismounted after driving out his
animals, and sat upon the ground, watching with the
greatest fidelity for every call of duty; when these 50
or 60 Indians sprang from their ^ hiding places, ran

KIT CARSON

from the painting in the Capitol at Denver, Colorado

When Beaver Skins Were Money 165

upon the animals, yelling horribly, and attempted to
drive them across the river. The guard, however,
nothing daunted, mounted quickly, and drove his horse
at full speed among them. The mules and horses
hearing his voice amidst the frightening yells of the
savages, immediately started at a lively pace for the
fort; but the Indians were on all sides, and bewildered
them. The guard still pressed them onward, and
called for help; and on they rushed, despite the efforts
of the Indians to the contrary. The battlements were
covered with men. They shouted encouragement to
the brave guard — ‘Onward, onward,’ and the injunc-
tion was obeyed. He spurred his horse to his greatest
speed from side to side and whipped the hindermost of
the band with his leading rope. He had saved every
animal: he was within 20 yards of the open gate: he
fell: three arrows from the bows of the Cumanches
had cloven his heart, and, relieved of him, the lords of
the quiver gathered their prey, and drove them to the
borders of Texas, without injury to life or limb. I saw
this faithful guard’s grave. He had been buried a few
days. The wolves had been digging into it. Thus
40 or 50 mules and horses and their best servant’s
life were lost to the Messrs. Bents in a single day.”
Long before this, in 1831, when the fort was still
unfinished, Carson with twelve white employees went
down the river to the Big Timbers to cut logs for use
in the construction work. He had all the horses and
mules belonging to the post with him, and while he

1 66 Beyond the Old Frontier

and his men were at work, a party of sixty Crows crept
up close to them, and coming out of the brush and
timber drove off the herd. Carson and his men, all
on foot, followed the Crows across the open prairie.
With them were two mounted Cheyenne warriors, who
had been visiting the camp when the Crows made their
attack, but who luckily had both their ponies by them,
and thus saved them. The Crows had not gone many
miles before they halted, and camped in a thicket on the
margin of a little stream, thinking that a party of
twelve men would not dare to follow them on foot;
therefore, when they beheld Carson and his men com-
ing on their trail they were greatly astonished. They
left the stolen animals behind them, and came boldly
out on the open prairie to annihilate the venturesome
white men, but all of Carson’s party had excellent
rifles and one or two pistols apiece. Carson used to
tell how surprised those Crows were when they charged
down upon his men and were met by a stunning volley.
They turned and made for the thicket, the whites fol-
lowing them at a run. Into the thicket went the Crows
and in after them tumbled Carson and his men. Some
spirited bushwhacking ensued, then out at the far edge
of the thicket came the Crows, with Carson and his
men still after them. Meantime, when the Crows had
come out to charge the whites, the two mounted Chey-
ennes had quietly slipped round in the rear and run
off all the captured horses, so now Carson’s men
mounted and rode exultingly back to their camp, while

When Beaver Skins Were Money 167

the discomfited Crows plodded on homeward, nurs-
ing their wounds.

In the years before the great peace was made be-
tween the Kiowas and Comanches, and the Cheyennes
and Arapahoes, the home country of the Southern
Cheyennes lay chiefly between the Arkansas and the
South Platte Rivers. In August many of them used to
go east as far as the valley of the Republican, for the
purpose of gathering winter supplies of choke-cherries
and plums. In the autumn the Suhtai and the Hill
people — His^si-o-me'ta-ne — went up west into the foot-
hills of the mountains to kill mule-deer, which were
plenty there, and at that season fat. All the different
bands of Cheyennes used to make annual trips to the
mountains for the purpose of securing lodge-poles. A
cedar which grew there was also much employed in the
manufacture of bows.

At this time the range of the Kiowas was from the
Cimarron south to the Red River of Texas, on the
ridge of the Staked Plains. They kept south in order
to avoid, so far as possible, the raiding parties of Chey-
ennes and Arapahoes, who were constantly trying to
take horses from them. In those days — and still earlier
— the Kiowas used to make frequent trips north to visit
their old friends and neighbors, the Crows, but when
they did this they kept away to the westward, close
to the mountains, in order to avoid the camps of the
Cheyennes. Nevertheless, such travelling parties were
occasionally met by the Cheyennes or Arapahoes, and

l68 Beyond the Old Frontier

fights occurred. It was in such a fight that an old
woman, now (1912) known as White Cow Woman, or
the Kiowa Woman, was captured. She was a white
child, taken from the whites by the Kiowas when two
or three years of age, and a year or two later captured
from the Kiowas as stated by the Cheyennes. She is
now supposed to be seventy-six or seventy-seven years
old. The fight when she was captured took place in
1835, or three years before the great fight on Wolf
Creek.

Before the Mexican War the Arkansas was the
boundary between the United States and Mexico, and
Bent’s Fort was, therefore, on the extreme border of
the United States. In those days the Indians used to
make raids into Mexican territory, sweeping off great
herds of horses and mules. They also captured many
Mexicans, and many a Comanche and Kiowa warrior
owned two or three peons, whom he kept to herd his
horses for him.

These peons were often badly treated by their Mex-
ican masters, and after they had been for a short time
with the Indians, they liked the new life so well that
they would not return to their old masters, even if they
had the opportunity. Many of these men led the war-
riors in raids into Mexico. They kept in communica-
tion with peons in the Mexican settlements, and from
them learned just which places were unguarded, where
the best herds and most plunder were to be secured, and
where the Mexican troops were stationed. The peon

When Beaver Skins Were Money 169

then led his war-party to the locality selected, and they
ran off the herds, burned ranches, and carried off
plunder and peon women and men. Some of the peons
captured became chiefs in the tribes that had taken
them. In the old days, Colonel Bent sometimes pur-
chased these Mexican peons from the Kiowas. In 1908
one of these peons was still living at the Kiowa Agency,
eighty-two years old.

Carson was employed by the Bents as hunter for
many years. Sometimes he remained at the fort, sup-
plying the table with meat, at other times he went with
the wagon-train to Missouri, acting as hunter for the
outfit. The following advertisement from the Missouri
Intelligencer marked Carson’s first appearance on the
page of history:

“Notice: To whom it may concern: That Chris-
topher Carson, a boy about sixteen years, small of his
age, but thickset, light hair, ran away from the sub-
scriber, living in Franklin, Howard Co., Mo., to whom
he had been bound to learn the saddler’s trade, on or
about the first day of September last. He is supposed
to have made his way toward the upper part of the
State. All persons are notified not to harbor, support
or subsist said boy under penalty of the law. One
cent reward will be given to any person who will bring
back said boy.

“David Workman.

“Franklin, Oct. 6, 1826.”

170

Beyond the Old Frontier

This runaway boy joined the Santa Fe caravan of
Charles Bent, and from that time on for a number of
years was employed by Bent and St. Vrain. From
1834 1842, he was constantly at the fort. He mar-

ried a daughter of Charles Beaubien, of Taos, who,
with his son, Narcisse Beaubien, was killed at the time
of the Pueblo massacre in January, 1847.

During the Civil War, Carson received a commission
in the militia of New Mexico or Colorado, and rose to
the rank of colonel and brevet brigadier-general.

LIFE AT BENTS FORT

Bent’s Old Fort was a stopping-place for all
travellers on the Santa Fe trail, and visitors often
remained there for weeks at a time, for Colonel
Bent kept open house. On holidays, such as Christ-
mas and the Fourth of July, if any number of people
were there, they often had balls or dances, in which
trappers, travellers, Indians, Indian women, and Mexi-
can women all took part. Employed about the post
there was always a Frenchman or two who could
play the violin and guitar. On one occasion Frank P.
BlairV then twenty-three years old, afterward a gen-
eral in the Union army, and at one time a vice-presi-
dential candidate, played the banjo all night at a ball
at the fort.

^ Appointed Attorney-general of New Mexico by General Kearny in
1846. Took an active part on the side of the Union in Missouri in 1860-1,

When Beaver Skins Were Money 171

Just before each Fourth of July, a party was always
sent up into the mountains on the Purgatoire River to
gather wild mint for mint-juleps to be drunk in honor
of the day. For the brewing of these, ice from the ice-
house was used. In those days this drink was called
“hail storm.”

The employees at the fort were divided into classes,
to each of which special duties were assigned. Cer-
tain men remained always at the post guarding it,
trading with Indians and trappers, and keeping the
books. These we may call clerks, or store-keepers, and
mechanics. Another group took care of the live-stock,
herding and caring for the horses and mules, while still
others had charge of the wagon-train that hauled the
furs to the States, and brought back new goods to the
fort. Other men, led by veteran traders, went to trade
in the Indian camps at a distance.

Excepting in summer, when the trains were absent
on their way to St. Louis, the population of the fort
was large. There were traders, clerks, trappers, hunt-
ers, teamsters, herders, and laborers, and these were
of as many races as there were trades. The clerks,
traders, and trappers were chiefly Americans, the hunt-
ers and laborers might be white fnen, Mexicans, or
Frenchmen. Some of the Delawares and Shawnees —
of whom Black Beaver was one of the most famous —
were hunters and trappers, while others of their race
were teamsters, and went back and forth with the
trains between Westport and Fort William. The herd-

172

Beyond the Old Frontier

ers were chiefly Mexicans, as were also some of the
laborers, while the cook of the bourgeois was a negro.
Almost all these people had taken Indian wives from
one tribe or another, and the fort was plentifully peo-
pled with women and children, as well as with men.

During the summer season matters were often very
quiet about the fort. In April, just about the time
that the Indians set out on their summer bufFalo-hunt,
the train started for St. Louis. It was under the per-
sonal conduct of Colonel Bent, but in charge of a
wagon-master, who was responsible for everything. It
was loaded with robes. With the train went most of
the teamsters and herders, together with some of the
laborers. The journey was to last nearly six months.
Each heavy wagon was drawn by six yoke of oxen,
driven by a teamster, who might be a white man or a
Delaware or a Shawnee. With the train went great
herds of horses to be sold when the settlements were
reached. Agent Fitzpatrick says that the Cheyennes
moved with the train as far as Pawnee Fork, and then
scattered on their hunt.

Travel was slow, for the teams made but ten or
twelve miles a day. On each trip they camped at
about the same places, and to the men who accompanied
the train the route was as well known as is the main
street to the people of a small town. When camp was
reached at night the wagons were corralled, the bulls
freed from their yokes, and, in charge of the night herd-
ers, who during the day had been sleeping in the wagons,

When Beaver Skins Were Money 173

were driven off to the best grass and there fed and
rested until morning, when they were driven back to
the corral to be turned over to the teamsters. The
horse herd was taken off in another direction, and held
during the night by the horse night herders. Within
the great corral of wagons the fires were kindled, and
the mess cooks prepared the simple meal of bread,
already cooked, and coffee.

At daylight in the morning the oxen were brought
in and yoked, the blankets tied up and thrown into the
wagons, and long before the sun appeared the train
was in motion. Travel was kept up until ten or eleven
o’clock, depending on the weather. If it was hot they
stopped earlier; if cool, they travelled longer. Then
camp was made, the wagons were again corralled, the
herds turned out, and the principal meal of the day,
which might be called breakfast or dinner, was pre-
pared. Perhaps during the morning the hunters had
killed buffalo or antelope, and this with bread satisfied
the keen appetites of the men. If fresh meat had not
been killed, there was always an abundance of dried
meat, which every one liked. At two or three o’clock
the herds were again brought in, and the train was set
in motion, the journey continuing until dark or after.
So the quiet routine of the march was kept up until
the settlements were reached.

The whole train was in charge of the wagon-master,
who was its absolute governing head. He fixed the
length of the march, the time for starting and halting.

174

Beyond the Old Frontier

If a difficult stream was to be crossed, he rode ahead
of the train and directed the crossing of the first team,
and then of all the others, not leaving the place until
the difficulty had been wholly overcome. Besides
looking after a multitude of details, such as the shoeing
of the oxen, the greasing of the wagons, which took
place every two or three days, and the condition of the
animals in the yokes, he also issued rations to the men,
and was, in fact, the fountain of all authority. With
the cavalyard ^ were always driven a number of loose
work-oxen, and if an animal in the yoke was injured,
or became lame or footsore. It was turned Into the herd
and replaced by a fresh ox.

When the axles of the wagons were to be greased,
the wheels were lifted from the ground by a very long
lever, on the end of which several men threw them-
selves to raise the wagon, so that the wheel could be
taken off. If one of the teamsters became sick or dis-
abled, It was customary for the wagon-master to drive
the leading team.

The train often consisted of from twenty to thirty
wagons, most of them — in later years — laden with bales
of buffalo robes on the way to the settlements, and re-
turned full of goods. The front end of the wagon In-
clined somewhat forward, and about half-way down
the front was a box, secured by a lock, in which the
teamster kept the spare keys for his ox-bows, various

* Sp. caballada: literally, a herd of horses; more broadly, a herd of horses
and work-cattle. Also pronounced cavaya, and spelled in a variety of ways.

When Beaver Skins Were Money 175

other tools, and some of his own small personal be-
longings.

Two hunters, one a white man, and the other a Mex-
ican, or Indian, accompanied the train, and each morn-
ing, as soon as it was ready to start, they set out to kill
game, and usually when the train came to the appointed
camping-place, they were found there resting in the
shade, with a load of meat. Sometimes, if they killed
an animal close to the road, they loaded it on a horse
and brought it back to the trail, so that it could be
thrown into a wagon when the train passed.

The Shawnees and Delawares were great hunters,
and almost always when the train stopped for noon,
and their cattle had been turned out and the meal
eaten, these men would be seen striding off over the
prairie, each with a long rifle over his shoulder.

In the train there were several messes. Colonel Bent
and any member of his family, or visitor, messed to-
gether, the white teamsters and the Mexicans also
messed together, while the Delawares and Shawnees, by
preference, messed by themselves. Each man had his
own quart cup and plate, and carried his own knife in
its sheath. Forks or spoons were not known. Each
man marked his own plate and cup, usually by rudely
scratching his initials or mark on it, and when he had
finished using it, he washed or cleansed it himself.
Each mess chose its cook from among its members.
The food eaten by these travellers, though simple, was
wholesome and abundant. Meat was the staple; but

176

Beyond the Old Frontier

they also had bread and abundant coffee, and occa-
sionally boiled dried apples and rice. Usually there
was sugar, though sometimes they had to depend on the
old-fashioned “long sweetening”; that is. New Orleans
molasses, which was imported in hogsheads for trade
with the Indians.

The train was occasionally attacked by Indians, but
they were always beaten off. In 1847 the Comanches
attacked the wagons at Pawnee Fork, but they were
repulsed, and Red Sleeves, their chief, was killed. The
fork is called by the Indians Red Sleeves’ Creek, in
remembrance of this affair. Charles Hallock, who
made the journey with one of these trains, wrote an
account of an attack by Comanches, which was printed
in Harper s Magazine, in 1859.

After the return to the post in autumn, the cattle
were turned out into the herd, wagons ranged around
outside of the corral, while the yokes and chains for
each bull team were cared for by the driver of the team.
Usually they were carried into the fort and piled up in
some shady place. The keys for the bows were tied
to the yokes, and the chains lay close to them.

Rarely a few ox-bows were lost by being taken away
by the Indians, who greatly coveted the hickory wood
for the manufacture of bows. There was no hickory
nearer than Council Grove, and if an Indian could get
hold of an ox-bow, he steamed and straightened it, and
from it made a useful bow.

When Beaver Skins Were Money 177

Back at the fort only a few men were left; the clerks,
a trader or two, and a few laborers and herders. There
were frequent calls there by Indians, chiefly war-parties
stopping to secure supplies of arms and ammunition.
Hunting parties occasionally called to procure ordinary
goods. Parties of white travellers came and stayed for
a little while, and then went on again. During this
time especial precautions were taken against trouble
with the Indians. At night, the fort was closed early,
and conditions sometimes arose under which admission
to the fort might be refused by the trader. This
watchfulness, which was never relaxed, was not caused
by any special fear of Indian attacks, but was merely
the carrying out of those measures of prudence which
Colonel Bent had always practised, and which he had
so thoroughly inculcated in his men that they had be-
come fixed habits.

Usually the Cheyenne Indians were freely admitted
to the fort, and were allowed to wander through it,
more or less at will. They might go up on the roof and
into the watch-tower, but were warned by the chiefs
not to touch anything. They might go about and look,
and, if they wished to, ask questions, but they were not
to take things in their hands. Toward the close of the
day, as the sun got low, a chief or principal man went
through the fort, and said to the young men who were
lounging here and there: ‘‘Now, soon these people will
wish to close the gates of this house, and you had better
now go out and return to your camps.” When this

178

Beyond the Old Frontier

was said the young men always obeyed, for in those
days the chiefs had control over their young men;
they listened to what was said to them and obeyed.

On one occasion a war-party of Shoshoni came down
from the mountains and visited Bent’s Fort, and in-
sisted on coming in. The trader in charge, probably
Murray, declined to let them in, and when they en-
deavored to force their way into the post, he killed
one of them, when the others went away. The In-
dian’s body was buried at some little distance from the
fort, and his scalp was afterward given to a war-party
of Cheyennes and Arapahoes.

In winter the scenes at the fort were very different.
Now it harbored a much larger population. All the
employees were there, except a few traders and team-
sters and laborers, who might be out visiting the differ-
ent camps, and who were constantly going and return-
ing. The greater part of the laborers and teamsters
had little or nothing to do, and spent most of the winter
in idleness, lounging about the fort, or occasionally
going out hunting. Besides the regular inhabitants
there were many visitors, some of whom spent a long
time at the fort. Hunters and trappers from the
mountains, often with their families, came in to pur-
chase goods for the next summer’s journey, or to visit,
and then, having supplied their wants, returned to
their mountain camps. All visitors were welcome to
stay as long as they pleased.

When Beaver Skins Were Money 179

Though the fort was full of idle men, nevertheless
time did not hang heavy on their hands. There were
amusements of various sorts, hunting parties, games,
and not infrequent dances, in which the moccasined
trappers, in their fringed, beaded, or porcupine-quilled
buckskin garments swung merry-faced, laughing In-
dian women in the rough but hearty dances of the
frontier. To the employees of the fort liquor was ever
dealt out with a sparing hand, and there is no memory
of any trouble among the people who belonged at the
post. It was a contented and cheerful family that
dwelt within these four adobe walls.

Perhaps the most important persons at the fort,
after the directing head who governed the whole or-
ganization, were the traders, who dealt out goods to
the Indians in the post, receiving their furs in payment,
and who were sent off to distant camps with loads of
trade goods, to gather from them the robes which they
had prepared, or to buy horses and mules.

Of these traders there were seven or eight, of whom
the following are remembered: Murray, an Irishman
known to the Indians as Pau-e-sih', Flat Nose; Fisher,
an American, No-ma-ni', Fish; Hatcher, a Kentuckian,
He-him'ni-ho-nah', Freckled Hand; Thomas Boggs, a
Missourian, Wohk' po-hum'. White Horse; John
Smith, a Missourian, P6-o-om' mats. Gray Blanket;
Kit Carson, a Kentuckian, Vi-hiu-ms', Little Chief, and
Charles Davis, a Missourian, Ho-nih', Wolf.

L. Maxwell, Wo-wihph' pai-i-sih'. Big Nostrils, was

i8o

Beyond the Old Frontier

the superintendent or foreman at the fort, but had
nothing to do with the trading. He looked after the
herds and laborers and fort matters in general.

Murray, who was a good hunter and trapper, and a
brave man, was one of the two more important men
among the traders. He usually remained at the fort,
and was almost always left in charge when the train
went to the States. Hatcher, however, was probably
the best trader, and the most valued of the seven.

Each of these traders had especial friendly relations
with some particular tribe of Indians, and each was
naturally sent ofF to the tribe that he knew best.
Besides this, often when villages of Indians came and
camped somewhere near the post, the chiefs would re-
quest that a particular man be sent to their village to
trade. Sometimes to a very large village two or three
traders would be sent, the work being more than one
man could handle in a short period of time.

When it was determined that a trader should go out,
he and the chief clerk talked over the trip. The trader
enumerated the goods required, and these were laid
out, charged to him, and then packed for transporta-
tion to the camp. If the journey were over level
prairie, this transportation was by wagon, but if over
rough country pack-mules were used. If on arrival
at the camp the trader found that the trade was going
to be large, and that he required more goods, he sent
back his wagon, or some of his animals, to the post for
additional supplies. When he returned from his trip

When Beaver Skins Were Money iSi

and turned in his robes, he was credited with the goods
that he had received. The trade for robes ended in
the spring, and during the summer the traders often
went to different villages to barter for horses and
mules.

A certain proportion of the trade with the Indians
was for spirits, but this proportion was small. The
Indians demanded liquor, and though Colonel Bent
was strongly opposed to giving it, to them, he knew
very well that unless he did something toward satisfy-
ing their demands, whiskey traders from Santa Fe or
Taos might come into the territory and gratify the
Indians’ longing for drink, and at the same time take
away the trade from the fort. Two or three times a
year, therefore, after many visits from the chiefs, ask-
ing for liquor, promising to take charge of it and see
to its distribution, and to be responsible that payment
should be made for it, a lot of liquor would be sent out
to a camp, packed in kegs of varying sizes. A trader
coming into the villages would deposit his load in the
lodge of the chief. The Indians wishing to trade would
come to the lodge and offer what they had to trade,
and each would be assigned a keg of a certain size,
sufficient to pay for the robes, horses, or mules that he
sold. Each Indian then tied a piece of cloth or a
string to his keg, so as to mark it as his, and it remained
in the chief’s lodge, unopened for the present. When
the trade had been completed, the trader left the vil-
lage, and not until he had gone some distance did the

i82

Beyond the Old Frontier

chief permit the Indians to take their kegs of liquor.
Sometimes while the traders were in a camp trading
ordinary goods, a party of men from Taos or Santa Fe
would come into the camp with whiskey, and then at
once there would be an end of all legitimate business
until the Indians had become intoxicated, drunk all the
spirits, and become sober again. No trader ever wished
to have whiskey in the camp where he was working.

We commonly think of the trade at one of these old
forts as being wholly for furs, but at Bent's Fort this
was not the case. In later times furs — that is to say,
buffalo robes — were indeed a chief article of trade, and
were carried back to the States to be sold there; but a
great trade also went on in horses and mules, of which
the Indians possessed great numbers, and of which they
were always getting more. These horses and mules
were taken back to the settlements and sold there, but
they were also sold to any one who would buy them.
The cavalyard was a part of every train which re-
turned to the States, the animals being herded by Mexi-
cans and being in charge of a trader, who disposed of
them when they reached the settlements.

The Indians frequently paid for their goods in horses
and mules, but this was not the only source from which
horses came. About 1845 William Bent sent his
brother, George Bent, with Tom Boggs and Hatcher,
down into Mexico to trade for horses and mules.
They brought back great herds, and with them a cele-
brated rider known at the fort, and in later years to

When Beaver Skins Were Money 183

all the Cheyennes, as One-eyed Juan, whose sole occu-
pation was breaking horses, a vocation which he fol-
lowed until he was too old to get into the saddle. It
was said of him that when he wished to show off he
would put a saddle on a wild horse, and placing a
Mexican dollar in each one of the huge wooden stir-
rups, would mount the horse, and no matter what the
horse might do, these dollars were always found under
the soles of the rider's feet when the animal stopped
bucking.

While the chief market at which the horses and mules
were sold was St. Louis, yet on at least one occasion
Hatcher took a herd of horses which had been bought
wild from the Comanches and broken by the Mexicans
at the fort over to Taos and Santa Fe, and sold them
there. Occasionally they sold good broken horses to
the Indians for robes.

It must be remembered that a large proportion of
these horses purchased from the Indians, and especially
from the Comanches, were wild horses taken by the
Comanches from the great herds which ran loose on
the ranches in Mexico. Practically all these horses
bore Mexican brands.

After the emigration to California began, herds of
horses and mules were sent up to the emigrant trail on
the North Platte River, to be sold to emigrants on their
way to California. On one occasion Hatcher, with a
force of Mexican herders, was sent up there in charge
of a great herd of horses and mules, and remained along-

184

Beyond the Old Frontier

side the trail until he had disposed of all his animals.
He carried back with him the gold and silver money
received for them In leather panniers, packed on the
backs of animals.

Before starting on another similar trip, Hatcher said
to Colonel Bent : “ It Is useless to load down our animals
with sugar, coffee and flour, to carry up there. We will
take only enough to last us to the trail, and there we
can buy all we need from the emigrants. Moreover,
they have great numbers of broken-down horses, and
it would be a good idea to buy these for little or nothing,
and then drive them back here and let them get rested
and fat, and then we can take them up there and sell
them again.” The wisdom of this was at once appar-
ent, and the suggestion was followed out.

Important members of the fort household were Chi-
pita; Andrew Green, the bourgeois’s cook; the old
French tailor, whose name is forgotten, and the car-
penter and the blacksmith,

Chipita was the housekeeper and laundress, the
principal woman at the post, and the one who, on the
occasion of dances or other festivities, managed these
affairs. She was a large, very good-natured, and kindly
woman, and is said to have been half French and half
Mexican. She spoke French readily. She was mar-
ried to one of the employees of the fort.

Andrew Green, the black cook, has already been
spoken of as having ultimately been set free.

The old French tailor had come up from New Orleans.

When Beaver Skins Were Money 185

He had a shop in one of the rooms of the fort, where he
used to make and repair clothing for the men. Much
of this clothing was of buckskin, which he himself
dressed, for he was a good tanner.

In winter the teamsters and laborers usually spent
their evenings in playing cards and checkers in the
quarters by the light of tallow candles, the only lights
they had to burn. These candles were made at the
fort, Chipita doing the work. They were moulded
of buffalo tallow, in old-fashioned tin moulds, perhaps
a dozen in a set. The work of fixing the wicks in
the moulds occupied considerable time. The tallow
was then melted, the refuse skimmed from it, the fluid
grease poured into the moulds, and the wicks, which
hung from the top, were cut off with a pair of scissors.
Then the moulds were dipped in a barrel of water
standing by, to cool the candles, and presently they
were quite hard, and could be removed from the moulds,
ready for use.

In the winter Chipita would sometimes vary the
monotony of the life by getting up a candy-pulling
frolic, in which the laborers and teamsters all took
part, and which was more or less a jollification. During
the afternoon and evening the black New Orleans
molasses, which was used in the Indian trade, was
boiled, and after supper the people gathered in one of
the rooms and pulled the candy. Candy such as this
was a great luxury, and was eagerly eaten by those
who could get it.

1 86 Beyond the Old Frontier

The work of the carpenter and blacksmith, whose
shops stood at the back of the fort, was chiefly on the
wagons, w'hich they kept in good order. For them
winter was the busy season, for it was their duty to
have everything in good order and ready for the train
to start out in April.

In the store of the fort — presumably for sale to
travellers or for the use of the proprietors — were to be
found such unusual luxuries as butter-crackers. Bent’s
water-crackers, candies of various sorts, and, most re-
markable of all, great jars of preserved ginger of the
kind which fifty or sixty years ago used to be brought
from China. Elderly people of the present day can
remember, when they were children, seeing these blue
china jars, which were carried by lines of vegetable
rope passed around the necks of the jars, and can re-
member also how delicious this ginger was when they
were treated to a taste of it.

At the post were some creatures which greatly as-
tonished the Indians. On one of his trips to St. Louis
St. Vrain purchased a pair of goats, intending to have
them draw a cart for some of the children. On the
way across the plains, however, one of them was killed,
but the one that survived lived at the fort for some years
and used to clamber all over the walls and buildings.
The creature was a great curiosity to the plains people,
who had never before seen such an animal, and they
never wearied of watching its climbing and its prome-
nading along the walls of the fort. As it grew older it

When Beaver Skins Were Money 187

became cross, and seemed to take pleasure in scattering
little groups of Indian children and chasing them about.
The Southern Cheyennes went but little into the moun-
tains at this time, and but few of them had ever seen
the mountain sheep. If they had, they would not have
regarded the domestic goat with so much wonder.

The post was abundantly supplied with poultry, for
pigeons, chickens, and turkeys had been brought out
there, and bred and did well. At one time George
Bent brought out several peacocks, whose gay plumage
and harsh voices astonished and more or less alarmed
the Indians, who called them thunder birds, Nun-
um'a-e-vi'kis.

There was no surgeon at the fort. Colonel Bent doing
his own doctoring. He possessed an ample medicine-
chest, which he replenished on his trips to St. Louis.
He had also a number of medical books, and no doubt
these and such practical experience as came to him with
the years made him reasonably skilful in the rough
medicine and surgery that he practised. With the
train he carried a small medicine-chest, which occa-
sionally came into play.

For many years Bent's Fort was the great and only
gathering-place for the Indians in the Southwestern
plains, and at different times there were large companies
of them present there.

At one time no less than three hundred and fifty
lodges of Kiowa Apaches were camping near the fort
on the south side of the river, and at another, according

i88

Beyond the Old Frontier

to Thomas Boggs, six or seven thousand Cheyennes
were camped there at one time. When the Kiowas,
Comanches, and Apaches were camped about the fort
the number of Indians was very large. It must be
remembered that prior to 1849 the Indians of the
Southwest had not been appreciably affected by any of
the new diseases brought into the country by the whites.
This was largely due to the forethought of William
Bent, who, by his action in 1829, when smallpox was
raging at his stockade, protected the Cheyennes and
Arapahoes at least, and very likely other Indians, from
the attacks of this dread disease.

Shortly after the great peace between the Cheyennes,
Arapahoes, Kiowas, Comanches, and Apaches, which
was made in 1840, the two great camps moved up to
Bent’s Fort, the Cheyennes and Arapahoes camping on
the north side of the river, the Kiowas, Comanches,
and Apaches on the south. It was a great gathering
of Indians, and the feasting, singing, dancing, and
drumming were continuous. Though peace had just
been made, there was danger that some of the old ill
feeling that had so long existed between the tribes yet
remained. Colonel Bent, with his usual wisdom,
warned his employees that to these camps no spirits
whatever should be traded. He recognized that if the
Indians got drunk they would very likely begin to
quarrel again, and a collision between members of
tribes formerly hostile might lead to the breaking of
the newly made peace. This was perhaps the greatest

When Beaver Skins Were Money 189

gathering of the Indians that ever collected at Fort
William. How many were there will never be known.

Such, briefly, is the story of Bent’s Fort, the oldest,
largest, and most important of the furt rading posts on
the great plains of the United States. Unless some
manuscript, the existence of which is now unknown,
should hereafter be discovered, it is likely to be all
that we shall ever know of the place that once held an
important position in the history of our country.

Bent’s Fort long ago fell to ruins, but it has not been
wholly forgotten. Up to the year 1868 the buildings
were occupied as a stage station, and a stopping-place
for travellers, with a bar and eating-house; but soon
after that, when the railroad came up the Arkansas
River, and stage travel ceased, the old post was aban-
doned. From that time on, it rapidly disintegrated
under the weather.

In the autumn of 1912 I stood on this historic spot,
still bare of grass, and marked on two sides by remains
of the walls, in some places a mere low mound, and in
others a wall four feet high, in which the adobe bricks
were still recognizable. Here and there were seen old
bits of iron, the fragment of a rusted horseshoe, of a
rake, and a bit of cast-iron which had been part of a
stove and bore letters and figures which could be made
out as portions of the words “St. Louis, 1859.”

The land on which the fort stood was owned by a
public-spirited citizen, Mr. A. E. Reynolds, of Denver,
Col., and here within the walls of the old fort he has

190 ‘ Beyond the Old Frontier

placed a granite stone to mark its site and to commem-
orate its history. He has given the land over to the
care of the Daughters of the American Revolution to
be used as a public park for the counties of Otero and
Bent, Colo.

William Bent, whose life was devoted to the upbuild-
ing of the Southwest, will always be remembered as the
one who placed on that fertile and productive empire
the stamp ‘^settled.”

GEORGE FREDERICK RUXTON, HUNTER

SOME time about 1840 George Frederick Ruxton,
a young Englishman, was serving in Canada as an
officer in a British regiment. In 1837, when only
seventeen years of age, he had left Sandhurst to enlist
as a volunteer in the service of Spain, where he served
with gallantry and distinction in the civil wars and
received from Queen Isabella II the cross of the first
class of the Order of San Fernando. The monotony of
garrison duty in Canada soon palled on one who had
taken part in more stirring scenes, and before long he
resigned his commission in his regiment and sought new
fields of adventure.

He was a man fond of action and eager to see new
things. His earliest project was to cross Africa, and
this he attempted, but without success.

He next turned toward Mexico as a field for adven-
ture, and he has painted a fascinating picture, both of life
there at the time of the Mexican War and of life in the
mountains to the north. The two small volumes of his
writings are now out of print, but they are well worth
reading by those who desire to learn of the early history
of a country that is now well known, and which within
fifty years has changed from a region without popula-
tion to one which is a teeming hive of industry.

193

194 Beyond the Old Frontier

In Ruxton’s Adventures in Mexico and the Rocky
Mountams is a singularly vivid account of the author^s
journeyings from England, by way of the Madeira
Islands, Barbadoes and others of the Antilles, to Cuba,
and so to Vera Cruz, more fully called the Rich City of
the True Cross; or as often, and quite aptly — from the
plague of yellow fever which so constantly ravaged it —
the City of the Dead. From Vera Cruz he travelled
north, passing through Mexico, whose coast was then
blockaded by the gringoes of North America, then
through the country ravaged by marauding Indians,
and at last, leaving Chihuahua and crossing by way of
El Paso into New Mexico, he reached what is now the
Southwestern United States. Through this country he
passed — in winter — north through the mountains, meet-
ing the trappers and mountaineers of those days and the
Indians as well, crossed the plains, and finally reached
St. Louis, and from there passed east to New York.

Although untrained in literature, Ruxton was a keen
observer, and presented his narrative in most attract-
ive form. He saw the salient characteristics of the
places and the people among whom he was thrown,
and commented on them most interestingly. He gives
us a peculiarly vivid picture of Mexico as it was during
its early days of stress and strain, or from the time of its
independence, for within the last twenty-five years there
had been not far from two hundred and fifty revolu-
tions. This state of things, as is well known, con-
tinued for a dozen years after the Mexican War, or

George Frederick Ruxton 195

until the great Indian Juarez became ruler of the
country and put down lawlessness and revolution with
a strong hand. From his day until the expulsion of
his great successor Porfirio Diaz Mexico was fortunate
in her rulers.

Just after Ruxton reached Vera Cruz General Santa
Anna, ex-President of Mexico, reached the city, having
been summoned to return after his expulsion of a year
before. Santa Anna was received with some form and
ceremony, but with no applause; and before he had
been long ashore was cross-examined by a represent-
ative of the people in very positive fashion, and sub-
mitted meekly to the inquisition.

It is hardly to be supposed that Ruxton, who had
been a British soldier, would be blind to the extraor-
dinary appearance and absolute lack of discipline of the
Mexican troops, and his description of the soldiers,
their equipment, and the preparations for the reception
of Santa Anna is interesting. ‘‘The crack regiment of
the Mexican army — el onze, the nth — which happened
to be in garrison at the time, cut most prodigious capers
in the great plaza several times a day, disciplinando —
drilling for the occasion. Nothing can, by any possi-
bility, be conceived more unlike a soldier than a Mexi-
can militar. The regular army is composed entirely of
Indians — miserable-looking pigmies, whose grenadiers
are five feet high. Vera Cruz, being a show place, and
jealous of its glory, generally contrives to put decent
clothing, by subscription, on the regiment detailed to

196

Beyond the Old Frontier

garrison the town; otherwise clothing is not consid-
ered indispensable to the Mexican soldier. The muskets
of the infantry are (that is, if they have any) condemned
Tower muskets, turned out of the British service years
before. I have seen them carrying firelocks without
locks, and others with locks without hammers, the
lighted end of a cigar being used as a match to ignite
the powder in the pan. Discipline they have none.
Courage a Mexican does not possess; but still they have
that brutish indifference to death, which could be
turned to account if they were well led, and officered by
men of courage and spirit.’’

Toward the end of the rainy season Ruxton, with a
mozo, started for the north. He travelled on horse-
back, and his way was made difficult by the condition
of the roads, which were heavy from rain, and by the
presence in the country of troops on their way to the
war, which made the accommodations, bad at best,
still worse.

Concerning the city of Mexico and its inhabitants of
the better class he speaks with some enthusiasm, but
the hotels were villainous, the city unsafe for strangers
after night, and at that time a blond man — a guero —
was constantly taken for a Texan or a Yankee, and was
subject to attack by any of the people.

In the city of Mexico Ruxton purchased horses from
a Yankee horse-dealer named Smith, and set out with
a pack-train for the farther north. His accounts of his
travels, the difficulties of the way, the inns at which he

George Frederick Ruxton

197

stopped, and the cities that he passed through are
extremely interesting. Of the manufacture of the na-
tional drink, pulque, the favorite beverage of the Mexi-
cans, he says: ‘‘The maguey, American aloe — Agave
americana — is cultivated over an extent of country
embracing 50,000 square miles. In the City of Mexico
alone the consumption of pulque amounts to the enor-
mous quantity of 11,000,000 of gallons per annum, and
a considerable revenue from its sale is derived by Gov-
ernment. The plant attains maturity in a period vary-
ing from eight to fourteen years, when it flowers; and it
is during the stage of inflorescence only that the sac-
charine juice is extracted. The central stem which in-
closes the incipient flower is then cut off near the bot-
tom, and a cavity or basin is discovered, over which the
surrounding leaves are drawn close and tied. Into this
reservoir the juice distils, which otherwise would have
risen to nourish and support the flower. It is removed
three or four times during the twenty-four hours, yield-
ing a quantity of liquor varying from a quart to a gal-
lon and a half.

“The juice is extracted by means of a syphon made
of a species of gourd called acojote, one end of which is
placed in the liquor, the other in the mouth of a person,
who by suction draws up the fluid into the pipe and
deposits it in the bowls he has with him for the purpose.
It is then placed in earthen jars and a little old pulque
— madre de pulque — is added, when it soon ferments,
and is immediately ready for use. The fermentation

198

Beyond the Old Frontier

occupies two or three days, and when it ceases the
pulque is in line order.

“Old pulque has a slightly unpleasant odour, which
heathens have likened to the smell of putrid meat, but,
when fresh, is brisk and sparkling, and the most cooling,
refreshing, and delicious drink that ever was invented
for thirsty mortal; and when gliding down the dust-
dried throat of a way-worn traveller, who feels the
grateful liquor distilling through his veins, is indeed the
‘licor divino,’ which Mexicans assert, is preferred by the
angels in heaven to ruby wine.”

Wherever Ruxton passed, his fair hair and complexion
and his excellent arms were subjects of wonder; the
first to the women and children, the second to the men.
His double-barrelled rifles seem especially to have im-
pressed the men.

As he passed farther and farther north, he heard
more and more concerning the raids of the Indians,
and at the ranch of La Punta, where he stopped to
witness the sport of tailing the bull, he heard from one
of the inhabitants an account of the raid of the previous
year, in which a number of peons were killed and some
women and children carried away to the north. He
says: “The ranchero’s wife described to me the whole
scene, and bitterly accused the men of cowardice in not
defending the place. This woman, with two grown
daughters and several smaller children, fled from
the rancho before the Indians approached, and con-
cealed themselves under a wooden bridge which crossed

George Frederick Ruxton

199

a stream near at hand. Here they remained for some
hours, half dead with terror: presently some Indians
approached their place of concealment: a young chief
stood on the bridge and spoke some words to the others.
All this time he had his piercing eyes bent upon their
hiding-place, and had no doubt discovered them, but
concealed his satisfaction under an appearance of indif-
ference. He played with his victims. In broken Span-
ish they heard him express his hope ‘that he would be
able to discover where the women were concealed —
that he wanted a Mexican wife and some scalps.’
Suddenly he jumped from the bridge and thrust his
lance under it with a savage whoop; the blade pierced
the woman’s arm and she shrieked with pain. One by
one they were drawn from their retreat.

“ * Dios de mi almaD — what a moment was this! —
said the poor creature. Her children were surrounded
by the savages, brandishing their tomahawks, and she
thought their last hour was come. But they all escaped
with life, and returned to find their houses plundered
and the corpses of friends and relations strewing the
ground.

“ ^ Ay de mi!' — what a day was this! ‘ Y los homhres,'
she continued, *qui no son homhresf — And the men —
who are not men — where were they.? ^ Escondido s como
los ratones' — hidden in holes like the rats. *Mire!' she
said suddenly, and with great excitement: ‘look at
these two hundred men, well mounted and armed, who
are now so brave and fierce, running after the poor

200

Beyond the Old Frontier

bulls; if twenty Indians were to make their appearance
where would they be? Faya! vaya!* she exclaimed,
* s 071 cobardes* — they are cowards all of them.

‘^The daughter, who sat at her mother's feet during
the recital, as the scenes of that day were recalled to her
memory, buried her face in her mother's lap, and wept
with excitement.

‘‘To return to the toros. In a large corral, at one
end of which was a little building, erected for the
accommodation of the lady spectators, were inclosed
upwards of a hundred bulls. Round the corral were
the horsemen, all dressed in the picturesque Mexican
costume, examining the animals as they were driven to
and fro in the inclosure, in order to make them wild for
the sport — alzar el corage. The ranchero himself, and
his sons, were riding amongst them, armed with long
lances, separating from the herd, and driving into
another inclosure, the most active bulls. When all was
ready, the bars were withdrawn from the entrance of
the corral, and a bull driven out, who, seeing the wide
level plain before him, dashed off at the top of his speed.
With a shout, the horsemen pursued the flying animal,
who, hearing the uproar behind him, redoubled his
speed. Each urges his horse to the utmost, and strives
to take the lead and be first to reach the bull. In such
a crowd, of course, first-rate horsemanship is required
to avoid accidents and secure a safe lead. For some
minutes the troop ran on in a compact mass — a sheet
could have covered the lot. Enveloped in a cloud of

George Frederick Ruxton

201

dust, nothing could be seen but the bull, some hundred
yards ahead, and the rolling cloud. Presently, with a
shout, a horseman emerged from the front rank; the
women cried * Viva!^ as, passing close to the stage, he
was recognized to be the son of the ranchera, a boy of
twelve years of age, sitting his horse like a bird, and
swaying from side to side as the bull doubled, and the
cloud of dust concealed the animal from his view.

* Fiva Pepito! viva!* shouted his mother, as she waved
her reboso to encourage the boy; and the little fellow
struck his spurs into his horse and doubled down to his
work manfully. But now two others are running neck
and neck with him, and the race for the lead and the
first throw is most exciting. The men shout, the
women wave their rebosos and cry out their names:

* Jlza — Bernardo- — por mi amor y Juan Maria — Viva Pe-
pitito!* they scream in intense excitement. The boy at
length loses the lead to a tall, fine-looking Mexican,
mounted on a fleet and powerful roan stallion, who
gradually but surely forges ahead. At this moment
the sharp eyes of little Pepe observed the bull to turn
at an angle from his former course, which movement
was hidden by the dust from the leading horseman. In
an instant the boy took advantage of it, and, wheeling
his horse at a right angle from his original course, cut
off the bull. Shouts and vivas rent the air at sight of
this skillful maneuver, and the boy, urging his horse
with whip and spur, ranged up to the left quarter of
the bull, bending down to seize the tail, and secure it

202

Beyond the Old Frontier

under his right leg, for the purpose of throwing the
animal to the ground. But here Pepe’s strength failed
him in a feat which requires great power of muscle,
and in endeavouring to perform it he was jerked out of
his saddle and fell violently to the ground, stunned and
senseless. At least a dozen horsemen were now striving
hard for the post of honour, but the roan distanced
them all, and its rider, stronger than Pepe, dashed up
to the bull, threw his right leg over the tail, which he
had seized in his right hand, and, wheeling his horse
suddenly outwards, upset the bull in the midst of his
career, and the huge animal rolled over and over in
the dust, bellowing with pain and fright.’’

Pushing northward through Mexico, Ruxton passed
into a country with fewer and fewer inhabitants. It
was the borderland of the Republic, where the Indians,
constantly raiding, were killing people, burning villages,
and driving off stock. The author’s adventures were
frequent. He was shot at by his mozo, or servant, who
desired to possess his property. He met wagon-trains
coming from Santa Fe, owned and manned by Amer-
icans. He lost his animals, was often close to Indians,
yet escaped without fighting them, assisted in the
rescue of a number of American teamsters who had
endeavored to strike across the country to reach the
United States, and many of whom had perished from
hunger and thirst; and finally, while on this good
errand, was robbed of all his property by thieves in
the little village where he had left it. His journal of

George Frederick Ruxton

203

travel is pleasantly interspersed with traditions of the
country and accounts of local adventures of the time.

Reaching Chihuahua, he found the shops stocked
with goods brought from the United States by way of
Santa Fe, it being profitable to drive the wagon-trains
south as far as Chihuahua, rather than to sell their
loads in Santa Fe. This Santa Fe trade, always sub-
ject to great risks from attacks by Indians and other
dangers of the road, was made still more difficult
from the extraordinary customs duties laid by the
Mexican officials, who, without reference to the nature
of the goods carried, assessed a duty of ^500 on each
wagon, no matter what its size or its contents.

Of Chihuahua as it was in those days Ruxton writes
with enthusiasm: ‘‘In the sierras and mountains,” he
says, “are found two species of bears — the common
black, or American bear, and the grizly bear of the
Rocky Mountains. The last are the most numerous,
and are abundant in the sierras, in the neighbourhood
of Chihuahua. The carnero cimarron — the big-horn or
Rocky Mountain sheep — is also common on the Cordil-
lera. Elk, black-tailed deer, cola-prieta (a large species
of the fallow deer), the common red deer of America,
and antelope, abound on all the plains and sierras. Of
smaller game, peccaries (javali), also called cojamete,
hares, and rabbits are everywhere numerous; and
beavers are still found in the Gila, the Pecos, the Del
Norte, and their tributary streams. Of birds — the
faisan, commonly called paisano, a species of pheasant:

204 Beyond the Old Frontier

the quail, or rather a bird between a quail and a par-
tridge, is abundant; while every variety of snipe and
plover is found on the plains, not forgetting the gruyuy
of the crane kind, whose meat is excellent. There are
also two varieties of wolf — the white, or mountain
wolf; and the coyote, or small wolf of the plains, whose
long-continued and melancholy howl is an invariable
adjunct to a Mexican night encampment.”

At the time that the author passed through Chihua-
hua that province was in a state of more or less excite-
ment, expecting the advance of the “Americanos” from
New Mexico, which province had been occupied by the
United States forces (Santa Fe having been entered
Aug. 1 8, 1846, by Gen. S. W. Kearny), and following
the troops was a caravan of 200 traders’ wagons bound
for Chihuahua. Ruxton was travelling northward, di-
rectly toward the American troops, and bore despatches
for the American commander; he was therefore treated
with extreme courtesy in Chihuahua and went on his
way. He has something to say about the Mexican
troops stationed here at Chihuahua, whom Colonel
Doniphan, two or three months later, with 900 volun-
teers, defeated with a loss of 300 killed and as many
wounded, capturing the city of Chihuahua, and without
‘‘losing one man in the campaign.” As a matter of
fact, one man was killed on the United States side,
while the Mexican losses were given as 320 killed, 560
wounded, and 72 prisoners.

It was in November that the author bade adieu to

George Frederick Ruxton

205

Chihuahua and set out for Santa Fe. Though the
country through which he journeyed was infested with
Indians, yet now and then a Mexican village was
passed, occupied by people who were poor both in
pocket and in spirit, and satisfied merely to live. When
the Rio Grande, which in old times was commonly
called the Del Norte, was passed, Ruxton was in what
is now the United States. It was then Mexican terri-
tory, however, and at El Paso there were Mexican
troops, and also a few American prisoners. From here,
for some distance northward, Indian ‘^sign” was con-
stantly seen, chiefly of Apaches, who made it their
business and their pleasure to ravage the region.

On the Rio Grande, a few days’ journey beyond El
Paso, a surveying party under the command of Lieu-
tenant Abert, of the United States Engineers, was
met with, and near him was camped a great part of the
traders’ caravan which was on its way to Chihuahua.
The scene here must have been one of interest. The
wagons were corralled, making a fort, from which
Indians or Mexicans could be defied, and the large and
wild-looking Missourians formed a striking contrast
to the tiny Mexicans, with whom the author had so
long been mingling. The American troops in this and
neighboring camps were volunteers, each one of whom
thought himself quite as good as his commanding
officers, and anything like discipline was unknown.
Ruxton was greatly impressed by this, and commented
freely on it, declaring that — “the American can never

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Beyond the Old Frontier

be made a soldier; his constitution will not bear the
restraint of discipline; neither will his very mistaken
notions about liberty allow him to subject himself to
its necessary control.”

No doubt the troops which conquered Mexico were
a good deal of a mob, and won their victories in a great
measure by the force of individual courage, and through
the timidity and still greater lack of organization of
the troops opposed to them. On the other hand,
Ruxton seems to have felt much admiration for the
officers in command of the regular army. He speaks of
West Point, and declares that the military education
received there is one ‘‘by which they acquire a practical
as well as theoretical knowledge of the science of war”;
and that, “as a class, they are probably more distin-
guished for military knowledge than the officers of any
European army; uniting with this a high chivalrous
feeling and a most conspicuous gallantry, they have all
the essentials of the officer and soldier.”

Ruxton spent some time hunting about this camp.
One day he had a shot at a large panther which he did
not kill, and later he found a turkey-roost. After a
short delay here he started northward again. One of
his servants had deserted him some time before, and
now he sent the other back to Mexico because he was
already suffering from the severity of the climate. The
author’s animals had now been travelling so long
together that they required little or no attention in
driving. Of course the operation of packing for a single

George Frederick Ruxton

207

man was slow and difficult. Continuing northward, he
reached Santa Fe, where, however, he did not stop long.

It was now winter, and the weather cold and
snowy, but the intrepid traveller had no notion of wait-
ing for more genial days. He has much to say about
the Indians in the neighborhood, and especially of the
Pueblos, whose stone villages and peculiar methods of
life greatly interested him. He found the Mexicans of
New Mexico no more attractive than those with whom
he had had to do farther to the southward, but seems
to have felt a certain respect, if not admiration, for
the Canadian and American trappers who had married
among these people. Some of these men advised him
strongly against making the effort to reach Fort Leav-
enworth at this season of the year, but he kept on.
The journey was difficult, however. His animals, na-
tives of the low country and of the tropics, were unused
to mountain travel; each frozen stream that they came
to was a cause of delay. The work of getting them on
was very laborious, and every two or three days Ruxton
froze his hands. He was now approaching the country
of the Utes, who at that time were constantly raiding
the settlements of northern New Mexico, killing the
Mexicans and taking their horses. His purpose was to
strike the Arkansas River near its head waters, and to
reach the Bayou Salado, an old rendezvous for trappers
and a great game country. The cold of the mountain
country grew more and more bitter, and the constant
winds made it almost impossible for the men to keep

2o8

Beyond the Old Frontier

from freezing. Indeed, sometimes the cold was so
severe that Ruxton found it necessary to put blankets
on his animals to keep them from perishing. For days
at a time snow, wind, and cold were so severe that it
was impossible to shoot game, as he could not bend
his stiffened fingers without a long preliminary effort.

During a part of his journey from Red River north
he had been constantly followed by a large gray wolf,
which evidently kept with him for the remains of the
animals killed, and for bits of food left around camp.

At length the Huerfano River was passed and a little
later the Greenhorn, where there was a camp of one
white trapper and two or three French Canadians. A
few days later the Arkansas was reached, and then the
trading-post known as the Pueblo. Here Ruxton
became a guest of John Hawkins, a well-known moun-
taineer of the time, and here he spent the remainder of
the winter hunting on the Fontaine-qui-bouille and in
the Bayou Salado.

Ruxton had many hunting adventures, and some
narrow escapes from Indian fighting. Much of what
he writes of this period has to do with the animals of
the region, for at that time the country swarmed with
game. The rapidity with which wolves will devour an
animal is well known to those familiar with the olden
time, but not to the people of to-day.

‘‘The sagacity of wolves is almost incredible. They
will remain around a hunting camp and follow the
hunters the whole day, in bands of three and four, at

George Frederick Ruxton

209

less than a hundred yards distance, stopping when
they stop, and sitting down quietly when game is
killed, rushing to devour the offal when the hunter
retires, and then following until another feed is offered
them. If a deer or antelope is wounded, they immedi-
ately pursue it, and not unfrequently pull the animal
down in time for the hunter to come up and secure it
from their ravenous clutches. However, they appear
to know at once the nature of the wound, for if but
slightly touched, they never exert themselves to follow
a deer, chasing those only which have received a mor-
tal blow.

“I one day killed an old buck which was so poor
that I left the carcase on the ground untouched. Six
coyotes, or small prairie wolves, were my attendants
that day, and of course, before I had left the deer twenty
paces, had commenced their work of destruction. Cer-
tainly not ten minutes after, I looked back and saw
the same six loping after me, one of them not twenty
yards behind me, with his nose and face all besmeared
with blood and his belly swelled almost to bursting.
Thinking it scarcely possible that they could have
devoured the whole deer in so short a space, I had the
curiosity to return, and, to my astonishment, found
actually nothing left but a pile of bones and hair, the
flesh being stripped from them as clean as if scraped
with a knife. Half an hour after I killed a large black-
tail deer, and as it was also in miserable condition, I
took merely the fleeces (as the meat on the back and

210

Beyond the Old Frontier

ribs is called), leaving four-fifths of the animal un-
touched. I then retired a short distance, and, sitting
down on a rock, lighted my pipe, and watched the oper-
ations of the wolves. They sat perfectly still until I
had withdrawn some three-score yards, when they scam-
pered, with a flourish of their tails, straight to the
deer. Then commenced such a tugging and snarling
and biting, all squeaking and swallowing at the same
moment. A skirmish of tails and flying hair was seen
for five minutes, when the last of them, with slouching
tail and evidently ashamed of himself, withdrew, and
nothing remained on the ground but a well-picked
skeleton. By sunset, when I returned to camp, they
had swallowed as much as three entire deer.”

Although Ruxton was no longer travelling, he was
not yet free from danger from storms, and an extraor-
dinary night passed in a snow-storm followed the loss of
his animals on a hunting trip. Horses and mules had
disappeared one morning, and he and his companion
had set out to find them. This they did, and when they
overtook the animals, shortly after noon, he says: “I
found them quietly feeding . . . and they suffered me to
catch them without difficulty. As we were now within
twenty miles of the fort, Morgan (his companion), who
had had enough of it, determined to return, and I
agreed to go back with the animals to the cachcy and
bring in the meat and packs. I accordingly tied the
blanket on a mule’s back, and, leading the horse, trotted
back at once to the grove of cottonwoods where we

George Frederick Ruxton

2II

had before encamped. The sky had been gradually
overcast with leaden-coloured clouds, until, when near
sunset, it was one huge inky mass of rolling darkness:
the wind had suddenly lulled, and an unnatural calm,
which so surely heralds a storm in these tempestuous
regions, succeeded. The ravens were winging their
way toward the shelter of the timber, and the coyote
was seen trotting quickly to cover, conscious of the
coming storm.

‘'The black threatening clouds seemed gradually to
descend until they kissed the earth, and already the
distant mountains were hidden to their very bases. A
hollow murmuring swept through the bottom, but as
yet not a branch was stirred by wind; and the huge
cottonwoods, with their leafless limbs, loomed like a
line of ghosts through the heavy gloom. Knowing but
too well what was coming, I turned my animals toward
the timber, which was about two miles distant. With
pointed ears, and actually trembling with fright, they
were as eager as myself to reach the shelter; but,
before we had proceeded a third of the distance, with
a deafening roar, the tempest broke upon us. The
clouds opened and drove right in our faces a storm of
freezing sleet, which froze upon us as it fell. The first
squall of wind carried away my cap, and the enormous
hailstones beating on my unprotected head and face,
almost stunned me. In an instant my hunting shirt
was soaked, and as instantly frozen hard; and my horse
was a mass of icicles. Jumping off* my mule — for to

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Beyond the Old Frontier

ride was impossible — I tore off the saddle blanket and
covered my head. The animals, blinded with the
sleet, and their eyes actually coated with ice, turned
their sterns to the storm, and, blown before it, made
for the open prairie. All my exertions to drive them
to the shelter of the timber were useless. It was impos-
sible to face the hurricane, which now brought with it
clouds of driving snow; and perfect darkness soon set
in. Still, the animals kept on, and I determined not to
leave them, following, or, rather, being blown, after
them. My blanket, frozen stiff like a board, required
all the strength of my numbed fingers to prevent its
being blown away, and although it was no protection
against the intense cold, I knew it would in some degree
shelter me at night from the snow. In half an hour the
ground was covered on the bare prairie to the depth of
two feet, and through this I floundered for a long time
before the animals stopped. The prairie was as bare
as a lake; but one little tuft of greasewood bushes
presented itself, and here, turning from the storm, they
suddenly stopped and remained perfectly still. In vain
I again attempted to turn them toward the direction
of the timber; huddled together, they would not move
an inch; and, exhausted myself, and seeing nothing
before me but, as I thought, certain death, I sank down
immediately behind them, and, covering my head with
the blanket, crouched like a ball in the snow. I would
have started myself for the timber, but it was pitchy
dark, the wind drove clouds of frozen snow into my

George Frederick Ruxton

213

face, and the animals had so turned about in the
prairie that it was impossible to know the direction to
take; and although I had a compass with me, my hands
were so frozen that I was perfectly unable, after
repeated attempts, to unscrew the box and consult it.
Even had I reached the timber, my situation would
have been scarcely improved, for the trees were scat-
tered wide about over a narrowspace, and, consequently,
afforded but little shelter; and if even I had succeeded
in getting firewood — by no means an easy matter at
any time, and still more difficult now that the ground
was covered with three feet of snow — I was utterly
unable to use my flint and steel to procure a light, since
my fingers were like pieces of stone, and entirely with-
out feeling.

‘‘The way the wind roared over the prairie that night
— how the snow drove before it, covering me and
the poor animals partly — and how I lay there, feeling
the very blood freezing in my veins, and my bones pet-
rifying with the icy blasts which seemed to penetrate
them — how for hours I remained with my head on my
knees and the snow pressing it down like a weight of
lead, expecting every instant to drop into a sleep from
which I knew it was impossible I should ever awake —
how every now and then the mules would groan aloud
and fall down upon the snow, and then again struggle
on their legs — how all night long the piercing howl of
wolves was borne upon the wind, which never for
an instant abated itsviolence during the night, — I would

214

Beyond the Old Frontier

not attempt to describe. I have passed many nights
alone in the wilderness and in a solitary camp — have
listened to the roarings of the wind and the howling of
wolves, and felt the rain or snow beating upon me with
perfect unconcern: but this night threw all my former
experiences into the shade, and is marked with the
blackest of stones in the memoranda of my journeyings.

‘‘Once, late in the night, by keeping my hands buried
in the breast of my hunting shirt, I succeeded in restor-
ing sufficient feeling into them to enable me to strike
a light. Luckily my pipe, which was made out of a
huge piece of cottonwood bark, and capable of con-
taining at least twelve ordinary pipefuls, was filled with
tobacco to the brim; and this I do believe kept me
alive during the night, for I smoked and smoked until
the pipe itself caught fire and burned completely to
the stem.

“I was just sinking into a dreamy stupor, when the
mules began to shake themselves and sneeze and snort;
which hailing as a good sign, and that they were still
alive, I attempted to lift my head and take a view of
the weather. When with great difficulty I raised my
head, all appeared dark as pitch, and it did not at first
occur to me that I was buried deep in snow; but when
I thrust my arm above me, a hole was thus made,
through which I saw the stars shining in the sky and
the clouds fast clearing away. Making a sudden at-
tempt to straighten my almost petrified back and
limbs, I rose, but, unable to stand, fell forward in

George Frederick Ruxton 215

the snow, frightening the animals, which immediately
started away. When I gained my legs I found that
day was just breaking, a long gray line of light appear-
ing over the belt of timber on the creek, and the clouds
gradually rising from the east, and allowing the stars to
peep from patches of blue sky. Following the animals
as soon as I gained the use of my limbs, and taking a
last Icok at the perfect cave from which I had just
risen, I found them in the timber, and, singularly
enough, under the very tree where we had cached our
meat. However, I was unable to ascend the tree in my
present state, and my frost-bitten fingers refused to
perform their offices; so that I jumped upon my horse,
and, followed by the mules, galloped back to the Ar-
kansa, which I reached in the evening, half dead with
hunger and cold.

‘‘The hunters had given me up for lost, as such a
night even the ‘oldest inhabitant’ had never witnessed.
My late companion had reached the Arkansa, and was
safely housed before it broke, blessing his lucky stars
that he had not gone back with me.”

It was at this time that the news of the Pueblo In-
dian rising in the valley of Taos was received and that
Governor Charles Bent and other white men had been
killed.

At this time the fur of the beaver had been supplanted
by other and cheaper materials, so that beaver fur,
which formerly brought eight dollars a pound, now
brought but one dollar. For this reason many, if not

2i6

Beyond the Old Frontier

most, of the trappers had for the time being ceased
their work, and had settled down on farms in the moun^
tains, where, though professing to farm, they raised
little from the ground except corn, but subsisted almost
entirely on the game, which was enormously abun-
dant. The author has much to say about the tiappers
and their ways of life, and this is one of the spirited
pictures of the craft that he paints:

“On starting for a hunt, the trapper fits himself out
with the necessary equipment, either from the Indian
trading-forts, or from some of the petty traders —
coureurs des bois — who frequent the western country.
This equipment consists usually of two or three horses
or mules — one for saddle, the others for packs — and
six traps, which are carried In a bag of leather called
a trap-sack. Ammunition, a few pounds of tobacco,
dressed deer-skins for moccasins, &c., are carried In a
wallet of dressed buffalo-skin, called a possible-sack.
His ‘possibles’ and ‘trap-sack’ are generally carried on
the saddle-mule when hunting, the others being packed
with the furs. The costume of the trapper Is a hunting-
shirt of dressed buckskin, ornamented with long fringes;
pantaloons of the same material, and decorated with
porcupine-quills and long fringes down the outside of
the leg. A flexible felt hat and moccasins clothe his
extremities. Over his left shoulder and under his right
arm hang his powder-horn and bullet-pouch, in which
he carries his balls, flint and steel, and odds and ends of
all kinds. Round the waist is a belt, In which is stuck

George Frederick Ruxton

217

a large butcher-knife in a sheath of bufFalo-hide, made
fast to the belt by a chain or guard of steel; which
also supports a little buckskin case containing a whet-
stone. A tomahawk is also often added; and, of course,
a long heavy rifle is part and parcel of his equipment.
I had nearly forgotten the pipe-holder, which hangs
round his neck, and is generally a gage d’amour, and a
triumph of squaw workmanship, in shape of a heart,
garnished with beads and porcupine-quills.

“Thus provided, and having determined the locality
of his trapping-ground, he starts to the mountains,
sometimes alone, sometimes with three or four in com-
pany, as soon as the breaking up of the ice allows him
to commence operations. Arrived on his hunting-
grounds, he follows the creeks and streams, keeping a
sharp look-out for ‘sign.’

“During the hunt, regardless of Indian vicinity, the
fearless trapper wanders far and near in search of
‘sign.’ His nerves must ever be in a state of tension,
and his mind ever present at his call. His eagle eye
sweeps round the country, and in an instant detects
any foreign appearance. A turned leaf, a blade of
grass pressed down, the uneasiness of the wild animals,
the flight of birds, are all paragraphs to him written in
nature’s legible hand and plainest language. All the
wits of the subtle savage are called into play to gain
an advantage over the wily woodsman; but with the
natural instinct of primitive man, the white hunter
has the advantages of a civilized mind, and, thus pro-

2i8

Beyond the Old Frontier

vided, seldom fails to outwit, under equal advantages,
the cunning savage.

‘‘Sometimes, following on his trail, the Indian
watches him set his traps on a shrub-belted stream,
and, passing up the bed, like Bruce of old, so that he
may leave no tracks, he lies in wait in the bushes until
the hunter comes to examine his carefully-set traps.
Then, waiting until he approaches his ambushment
within a few feet, whiz flies the home-drawn arrow,
never failing at such close quarters to bring the victim
to the ground. For one white scalp, however, that
dangles in the smoke of an Indian’s lodge, a dozen
black ones, at the end of the hunt, ornament the camp-
fires of the rendezvous.

“At a certain time, when the hunt is over, or they
have loaded their pack-animals, the trappers proceed
to the ‘rendezvous,’ the locality of which has been
previously agreed upon; and here the traders and
agents of the fur companies await them, with such
assortment of goods as their hardy customers may
require, including generally a fair supply of alcohol.
The trappers drop in singly and in small bands, bring-
ing their packs of beaver to this mountain market, not
unfrequently to the value of a thousand dollars each,
the produce of one hunt. The dissipation of the ‘ren-
dezvous,’ however, soon turns the trapper’s pocket in-
side out. The goods brought by the traders, although
of the most inferior quality, are sold at enormous
prices: — Coffee, twenty and thirty shillings a pint-cup,

George Frederick Ruxton

219

which is the usual measure; tobacco fetches ten and
fifteen shillings a plug; alcohol, from twenty to fifty
shillings a pint; gunpowder, sixteen shillings a pint-
cup; and all other articles at proportionately exorbitant
prices.

“A trapper often squanders the produce of his hunt,
amounting to hundreds of dollars, in a couple of hours;
and, supplied on credit with another equipment, leaves
the rendezvous for another expedition, which has the
same result time after time; although one tolerably
successful hunt would enable him to return to the
settlements and civilized life, with an ample sum to
purchase and stock a farm, and enjoy himself in ease
and comfort the remainder of his days.

“An old trapper, a French Canadian, assured me
that he had received fifteen thousand dollars for beaver
during a sojourn of twenty years in the mountains.
Every year he resolved in his mind to return to Can-
ada and, with this object, always converted his fur
into cash; but a fortnight at the ‘rendezvous’ always
cleaned him out, and, at the end of twenty years, he
had not even credit sufficient to buy a pound of powder.

“These annual gatherings are often the scene of
bloody duels, for over their cups and cards no men are
more quarrelsome than your mountaineers. Rifles, at
twenty paces, settle all differences, and, as may be
imagined, the fall of one or other of the combatants
is certain, or, as sometimes happens, both fall to the
word ‘fire.’ ”

220 Beyond the Old Frontier

Ruxton made many solitary hunting trips away from
the fort — Pueblo — and of one of these, to the head of
the Fontaine-qui-bouille, he paints a pleasing picture:

“Never was there such a paradise for hunters as
this lone and solitary spot. The shelving prairie, at the
bottom of which the springs are situated, is entirely
surrounded by rugged mountains, and, containing per-
haps two or three acres of excellent grass, affords a
safe pasture to their animals, which would hardly care
to wander from such feeding, and the salitrose rocks
they love so well to lick. Immediately overhead. Pike’s
Peak, at an elevation of 12,000 feet above the level of
the sea, towers high into the clouds; whilst from the
fountain, like a granitic amphitheatre, ridge after ridge,
clothed with pine and cedar, rises and meets the stu-
pendous mass of mountains, well called ‘Rocky,’ which
stretches far away north and southward, their gigantic
peaks being visible above the strata of clouds which
hide their rugged bases.

“This first day the sun shone out bright and warm,
and not a breath of wind ruffled the evergreen foliage
of the cedar groves. Gay-plumaged birds were twitter-
ing in the shrubs, and ravens and magpies were chatter-
ing overhead, attracted by the meat I had hung upon
a tree; the mules, having quickly filled themselves,
were lying round the spring, basking lazily in the sun;
and myself, seated on a pack, and pipe in mouth, with
rifle ready at my side, indolently enjoyed the rays,
which reverberated {sic) from the white rock on which

George Frederick Ruxton

221

I was lying, were deliciously warm and soothing. A
piece of rock, detached from the mountainside and
tumbling noisily down, caused me to look up in the
direction whence it came. Half a dozen big-horns, or
Rocky Mountain sheep, perched on the pinnacle of a
rock, were gazing wohderingly upon the prairie, where
the mules were rolling enveloped in clouds of dust.
The enormous horns of the mountain sheep appeared
so disproportionably heavy, that I every moment ex-
pected to see them lose their balance and topple over
the giddy height. My motions frightened them, and,
jumping from rock to rock, they quickly disappeared
up the steepest part of the mountain. At the same mo-
ment a herd of blacktail deer crossed the corner of the
glade within rifle shot of me, but, fearing the vicinity
of Indians, I refrained from firing before I had recon-
noitred the vicinity for signs of their recent presence.

“Immediately over me, on the left bank of the stream,
and high above the springs, was a small plateau, one of
many which are seen on the mountainsides. Three
buffalo bulls were here quietly feeding, and remained
the whole afternoon undisturbed. I saw from the sign
that they had very recently drunk at the springs, and
that the little prairie where my animals were feeding
was a frequent resort of solitary bulls.”

A mountain hunter rather than one of the plains,
Ruxton nevertheless devotes some space to buffalo
hunting. He points out what has so often been writ-
ten of since his time, that the buffalo was hard to kill.

222

Beyond the Old Frontier

not because it had so much vitality, but because the
inexperienced hunter so seldom shot it in the right
place. Thus he says:

“No animal requires so much killing as a buffalo.
Unless shot through the lungs or spine, they invariably
escape; and, even when thus mortally wounded, or
even struck through the very heart, they will fre-
quently run a considerable distance before falling to
the ground, particularly if they see the hunter after
the wound is given. If, however, he keeps himself
concealed after firing, the animal will remain still, if it
does not immediately fall. It is a most painful sight
to witness the dying struggles of the huge beast. The
buffalo invariably evinces the greatest repugnance to
lie down when mortally wounded, apparently conscious
that, when once touching mother earth, there is no
hope left him. A bull, shot through the heart or lungs,
with blood streaming from his mouth, and protruding
tongue, his eyes rolling, bloodshot, and glazed with
death, braces himself on his legs, swaying from side
to side, stamps impatiently at his growing weakness,
or lifts his rugged and matted head and helplessly bel-
lows out his conscious impotence. To the last, how-
ever, he endeavours to stand upright, and plants his
limbs farther apart, but to no purpose. As the body
rolls like a ship at sea, his head slowly turns from side
to side, looking about, as it were, for the unseen and
treacherous enemy who has brought him, the lord of
the plains, to such a pass. Gouts of purple blood spurt

INDIAN SIGNALLING BUFFALO DISCOVERED

George Frederick Ruxton

223

from his mouth and nostrils, and gradually the failing
limbs refuse longer to support the ponderous carcase;
more heavily rolls the body from side to side, until
suddenly, for a brief instant, it becomes rigid and still;
a convulsive tremor seizes it, and, with a low, sobbing
gasp, the huge animal falls over on his side, the limbs
extended stark and stiff, and the mountain of flesh
without life or motion.

‘‘The first attempts of a ‘greenhorn’ to kill a buffalo
are invariably unsuccessful. He sees before him a
mass of flesh, nearly five feet in depth from the top of
the hump to the brisket, and consequently imagines
that, by planting his ball midway between these points,
it must surely reach the vitals. Nothing, however, is
more erroneous than the impression; for to ‘throw a
buffalo in his tracks,’ which is the phrase of making a
clean shot, he must be struck but a few inches above
the brisket, behind the shoulder, where alone, unless
the spine be divided, a death-shot will reach the vitals.
I once shot a bull, the ball passing directly through the
very centre of the heart and tearing a hole sufficiently
large to insert the finger, which ran upwards of half a
mile before it fell, and yet the ball had passed com-
pletely through the animal, cutting its heart almost in
two. I also saw eighteen shots, the half of them mus-
kets, deliberately fired into an old bull, at six paces,
and some of them passing through the body, the poor
animal standing the whole time, and making feeble at-
tempts to charge. The nineteenth shot, with the

224

Beyond the Old Frontier

muzzle touching his body, brought him to the ground.
The head of the buffalo-bull is so thickly covered with
coarse matted hair, that a ball fired at half a dozen
paces will not penetrate the skull through the shaggy
frontlock. I have frequently attempted this with a
rifle carrying twenty-five balls to the pound, but never
once succeeded.

‘‘Notwithstanding the great and wanton destruction
of the buffalo, many years must elapse before this lordly
animal becomes extinct. In spite of their numerous
enemies, they still exist in countless numbers, and,
could any steps be taken to protect them, as is done in
respect of other game, they would ever remain the life
and ornament of the boundless prairies, and afford
ample and never-failing provision to the travelers over
these otherwise desert plains. Some idea of the pro-
digious slaughter of these animals may be formed, by
mentioning the fact that upwards of one hundred thou-
sand buffalo robes find their way annually into the
United States and Canada; and these are the skins of
cows alone, the bull's hide being so thick that it is
never dressed. Besides this, the Indians kill a certain
number for their own use, exclusive of those whose
meat they require; and the reckless slaughter of buffalo
b}^ parties of white men, emigrants to the Columbia,
California, and elsewhere, leaving, as they proceed on
their journey, thousands of untouched carcases on the
trail, swells the aggregate of this wholesale destruction
to an enormous amount.”

George Frederick Ruxton

225

The keen scent of the buffalo and its apparent poor
sight were noticed by Ruxton, as they have been by
so many others. What is perhaps not generally known,
because it has been forgotten, is that when running,
the buffalo commonly swings its head from one side
to the other, apparently in the effort to see what is
going on on either side and perhaps, to some extent,
behind it. Other characteristics — its harmlessness,
and its occasional unconcern in the presence of danger
— are also shown here.

“There are two methods of hunting buffalo — one on
horseback, by chasing them at full speed, and shooting
when alongside; the other by ‘still hunting,* that is,
‘approaching,’ or stalking, by taking advantage of the
wind and any cover the ground affords, and crawling
to within distance of the feeding herd. The latter
method exhibits in a higher degree the qualities of the
hunter, the former those of the horseman. The buf-
falo’s head is so thickly thatched with long, shaggy hair
that the animal is almost precluded from seeing an
object directly in its front; and if the wind be against
the hunter he can approach, with a little caution, a
buffalo feeding on a prairie as level and bare as a bil-
liard-table. Their sense of smelling, however, is so
acute, that it is impossible to get within shot when to
windward, as, at the distance of nearly half a mile, the
animal will be seen to snuff the tainted air, and quickly
satisfy himself of the vicinity of danger. At any other
than the season of gallantry, when the males are, like

226 Beyond the Old Frontier

all other animals, disposed to be pugnacious, the buf-
falo Is a quiet, harmless animal, and will never attack
unless goaded to madness by wounds, or, if a cow, in
sometimes defending its calf when pursued by a horse-
man; but even then it is seldom that they make any
strong effort to protect their young.

“When gorged with water, after a long fast, they be-
come so lethargic that they sometimes are too careless
to run and avoid danger. One evening, just before
camping, I was, as usual. In advance of the train, when
I saw three bulls come out of the river and walk lei-
surely across the trail, stopping occasionally, and one,
more indolent than the rest, lying down whenever the
others halted. Being on my hunting-mule, I rode
slowly after them, the lazy one stopping behind the
others, and allowing me to ride within a dozen paces,
when he would slowly follow the rest. Wishing to see
how near I could get, I dismounted, and, rifle in hand,
approached the bull, who at last stopped short, and
never even looked round, so that I walked up to the
animal and placed my hand on his quarter. Taking
no notice of me, the huge beast lay down, and while on
the ground I shot him dead. On butchering the car-
case I found the stomach so greatly distended, that
another pint would have burst it. In other respects
the animal was perfectly healthy and in good condi-
tion.’’

Ruxton was not only an earnest hunter and a hardy
traveller, but he was also a keen observer, and living

George Frederick Ruxton

227

as he did for long periods in the open air and among
the wild animals, he saw many curious things.

‘"The first mountain-sheep I killed, I got within shot
of in rather a curious manner. I had undertaken sev-
eral unsuccessful hunts for the purpose of procuring
a pair of horns of this animal, as well as some skins,
which are of excellent quality when dressed, but had
almost given up any hope of approaching them, when
one day, having killed and butchered a black-tail deer
in the mountains, I sat down with my back to a small
rock and fell asleep. On awaking, feeling inclined for
a smoke, I drew from my pouch a pipe, and flint and
steel, and began leisurely to cut a charge of tobacco.
Whilst thus engaged I became sensible of a peculiar
odour which was wafted right into my face by the
breeze, and which, on snuffing it once or twice, I imme-
diately recognized as that which emanates from sheep
and goats. Still I never thought that one of the former
animals could be in the neighbourhood, for my mule
was picketed on the little plateau where I sat, and was
leisurely cropping the buffalo-grass which thickly cov-
ered it.

“Looking up carelessly from my work, as a whiff
stronger than before reached my nose, what was my
astonishment at seeing five mountain-sheep within ten
paces, and regarding me with a curious and astonished
gaze! Without drawing a breath, I put out my hand
and grasped the rifle, which was lying within reach;
but the motion, slight as it was, sufficed to alarm them,

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Beyond the Old Frontier

and with a loud bleat the old ram bounded up the
mountain, followed by the band, and at so rapid a pace
that all my attempts to ‘draw a bead’ upon them were
ineffectual. When, however, they reached a little
plateau about one hundred and fifty yards from where
I stood, they suddenly stopped, and, approaching the
edge, looked down at me, shaking their heads, and
bleating their displeasure at the intrusion. No sooner
did I see them stop than my rifle was at my shoulder,
and covering the broadside of the one nearest to me.
An instant after and I pulled the trigger, and at the
report the sheep jumped convulsively from the rock,
and made one attempt to follow its flying companions;
but its strength failed, and, circling round once or
twice at the edge of the plateau, it fell over on its side,
and, rolling down the steep rock, tumbled dead very
near me. My prize proved a very fine young male,
but had not a large pair of horns. It was, however,
‘seal’ fat, and afforded me a choice supply of meat,
which was certainly the best I had eaten in the moun-
tains, being fat and juicy, and in flavour somewhat par-
taking both of the domestic sheep and buffalo.”

Among other notes about this species Ruxton speaks
of several attempts that had been made to secure the
young of mountain sheep and transport them to the
States. None of these, however, had been successful.
Old Bill Williams even took with him into the moun-
tains a troop of milch goats, by which to bring up the
young sheep, but, though capturing a number of lambs.

229

George Frederick Ruxton

he did not succeed in reaching the frontier with a
single one.

He reports also the superstition of the Canadian
trappers concerning the carcajou, which we know as
the wolverene, and tells of a reported battle which an
old Canadian trapper said that he had had with one
of these animals, and which lasted upward of two
hours, during which he fired a pouchful of balls into
the animal's body, which spat them out as fast as they
were shot in. Two days later, in company with the
same man, the author, in looking over a ridge, saw a
wolverene, and shot at it, as it was running off, without
effect. For this he was derided by the Canadian, who
declared that if he had shot fifty balls at the carcajou
it would not have cared at all. > ^

One night, when camped on the Platte, the author
woke up, and looking out of his blanket, saw sitting
before the fire a huge gray wolf, his eyes closed and
his head nodding in sheer drowsiness.

The last day of April, Ruxton set out to cross the
plains for Fort Leavenworth, intending to return to
England. Soon afterward they reached Bent’s Fort,
and a little later were joined by a number of Fremont’s
men, and by Kit Carson, who were returning from
California. They passed a Cheyenne camp, and before
very long were well out on the plains and in the buffalo
country. Concerning the abundance of these animals
Ruxton tells the same extraordinary stories that all
old-timers relate. He hunted buffalo both by “ap-

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Beyond the Old Frontier

preaching” and by running; and tried many experi-
ments with these great beasts. One night the camp
was almost run down by a vast herd of buffalo, but all
hands being aroused, they managed, by firing their
guns and making all the noise they could, to split the
herd, so that the two branches passed around them.

At length the party approached Council Grove, and
the more humid country, where the eastern timber
was found, which, to Ruxton and to the Missourians
of the party, looked like old friends.

Ruxton was a true outdoor man, loving the wilder-
ness for itself alone, accepting whatever of toil, expo-
sure, or hardship might come to him, feeling amply
repaid for these annoyances by the joy of independ-
ence, of the beauties that surrounded him, and of the
absolute physical well-being which was a part of this
life.

The days when an existence such as is pictured in
his accounts of the Rocky Mountains could be enjoyed
are long past, yet there are still living some men who
can absolutely sympathize with the feeling expressed
in the following paragraphs:

“Apart from the feeling of loneliness which any one
in my situation must naturally have experienced, sur-
rounded by stupendous works of nature, which in all
their solitary grandeur frowned upon me, and sinking
into utter insignificance the miserable mortal who
crept beneath their shadow; still there was something
inexpressibly exhilarating in the sensation of positive

George Frederick Ruxton

231

freedom from all worldly care, and a consequent ex-
pansion of the sinews, as it were, of mind and body,
which made me feel elastic as a ball of Indian rubber,
and in a state of such perfect insouciance that no more
dread of scalping Indians entered my mind than if I
had been sitting in Broadway, in one of the windows of
Astor House. A citizen of the world, I never found
any difficulty in investing my resting-place, wherever
it might be, with all the attributes of a home; and hailed,
with delight equal to that which the artificial comforts
of a civilized home would have caused, the, to me, do-
mestic appearance of my hobbled animals, as they
grazed around the camp, when I returned after a hard
day’s hunt. By the way, I may here remark, that my
sporting feeling underwent a great change when I was
necessitated to follow and kill game for the support of
life, and as a means of subsistence; and the slaughter
of deer and buffalo no longer became sport when the
object was to fill the larder, and the excitement of the
hunt was occasioned by the alternative of a plentiful
feast or a banyan; and, although ranking underthe head
of the most red-hot of sportsmen, I can safely acquit
myself of ever wantonly destroying a deer or buffalo
unless I was in need of meat; and such consideration
for the ferae naturae is common to all the mountaineers
who look to game alone for their support. Although
liable to an accusation of barbarism, I must confess that
the very happiest moments of my life have been spent
in the wilderness of the far West; and I never recall

232

Beyond the Old Frontier

but with pleasure the remembrance of my solitary
camp in the Bayou Salado, with no friend near me
more faithful than my rifle, and no companions more
sociable than my good horse and mules, or the attend-
ant coyote which nightly serenaded us. With a plenti-
ful supply of dry pine-logs on the fire, and its cheerful
blaze streaming far up into the sky, illuminating the
valley far and near, and exhibiting the animals, with
well-filled bellies, standing contentedly at rest over
their picket-pins, I would sit cross-legged enjoying the
genial warmth, and, pipe in mouth, watch the blue
smoke as it curled upwards, building castles in its va-
poury wreaths, and, in the fantastic shapes it assumed,
peopling the solitude with figures of those far away.
Scarcely, however, did I ever wish to change such hours
of freedom for all the luxuries of civilized life, and, un-
natural and extraordinary as it may appear, yet such
is the fascination of the life of the mountain hunter,
that I believe not one instance could be adduced of even
the most polished and civilized of men, who had once
tasted the sweets of its attendant liberty and freedom
from every worldly care, not regretting the moment
when he exchanged it for the monotonous life of the
settlements, nor sighing, and sighing again, once more
to partake of its pleasures and allurements.

“Nothing can be more social and cheering than the
welcome blaze of the camp fire on a cold winter’s night,
and nothing more amusing or entertaining, if not in-
structive, than the rough conversation of the single-

George Frederick Ruxton

233

minded mountaineers, whose simple daily talk is all of
exciting adventure, since their whole existence is spent
in scenes of peril and privation; and consequently the
narration of their every-day life is a tale of thrilling
accidents and hairbreadth ’scapes, which, though simple
matter-of-fact to them, appear a startling romance to
those who are not acquainted with the nature of the
lives led by these men, who, with the sky for a roof
and their rifles to supply them with food and clothing,
call no man lord or master, and are free as the game
they follow.”

Some little time was spent at Fort Leavenworth,
where Ruxton found the change from the free life of
prairie and mountain very unpleasant. He suffered
still more when he reached St. Louis, and was obliged
to assume the confining garb of civilization, and above
all, to put his feet into shoes.

Ruxton’s journey from St. Louis to New York was
uneventful, and in July he left for England, which he
reached in the middle of August, 1847.

It was after this that he wrote a series of sketches,
entitled ‘‘Life in the Far West,” which were afterward
published in Blackwood'' s Magazine^ and finally in
book form in England and America. These sketches
purport to give the adventures of a trapper, La Bonte,
during fifteen years’ wandering in the mountains, and
set forth trapper and mountain life of the day. They
show throughout the greatest familiarity with the old-
time life. The author’s effort to imitate the dialect

234 Beyond the Old Frontier

spoken by the trappers makes the conversation not
always easy to read; but they are most interesting as
faithful pictures of life in the mountains between 1830
and 1840 — at the end of the days of the beaver.

A BOY IN INDIAN CAMPS

AMONG THE CHEYENNES

ONE of the most charming books written about
the early plains is Lewis H. Garrard’s Wah-
To-Yah and the Taos Trail. It is the narra-
tive of a boy, only seventeen years old, who, in 1846,
travelled westward from St. Louis with a train led by
Mr. St. Vrain, of the firm of Bent, St. Vrain & Co., and
after some time spent on the plains and in Cheyenne
camps, proceeded westward to New Mexico and there
saw and heard of many of the events just antecedent to
the Mexican War.

It is an interesting fact that the book, which, in its
interest and its fidelity to nature and to early times,
equals the far more celebrated California and Ore-
gon Trail of Parkman, tells of the events of the same
year as Parkman’s volume, but deals with a country
to the south of that traversed by him who was to be-
come one of the greatest historians of America. The
charm of each volume lies in its freshness. Neither

237

238 Beyond the Old Frontier

could have been written except by one who saw things
with the enthusiastic eyes of youth, who entered upon
each adventure with youth’s enthusiasm, and who told
his story with the frankness and simplicity of one who
was very young. After all, the greatest charm of any
literature lies in the simplicity with which the story is
told, and in both these delightful volumes is found this
attractive quality.

Garrard reached St. Louis on his way to the Rocky
Mountains in July, 1846, and there became acquainted
with the firm of Pierre Chouteau, Jr., & Co., so well
known in the fur trade of the West. Here, too, he
met Kenneth McKenzie, one of the first traders with
the Blackfeet Indians, and Mr. St. Vrain.

To the modern reader it seems odd to see it stated
in the first two lines of the book that a part of the
necessary preparations for the trip before him was the
‘‘laying in a good store of caps, fine glazed powder,
etc.,” but in those days the percussion cap was still a
new thing, and of the guns used west of the Missouri
River the great majority still used the flint to strike
fire to the charge.

Besides Garrard, there were others in St. Vrain’s
company, who were new to the plains. Of these one
was Drinker, a Cincinnati editor; another, a Mr. Chad-
wick. Besides these there were General Lee of St.
Louis, a friend or two of St. Vrain’s, and various em-
ployees of the traders.

Bent’s train was encamped not far from Westport,

A Boy in Indian Camps

239

and here Garrard got his first taste of wild life, sleeping
on the ground in the open. Here, too, he saw his first
Indians, the Wyandottes, who, in 1843, had been
moved westward from their homes in Ohio. Here, of
course, he met those who for months were to be his
travelling companions, and he paints us a fresh picture
of them in these pleasing words:

“There were eighteen or twenty Canadian French-
men (principally from St. Louis) composing part of
our company, as drivers of the teams. As I have ever
been a lover of sweet, simple music, their beautiful
and piquant songs in the original language fell most
harmoniously on the ear, as we lay wrapped in our
blankets.

“On the first of September, Mr. St. Vrain’s arrival
infused some life into our proceedings, but nothing
more worthy of note occurred, except riding and look-
ing at horses, of which Drinker and I were in need;
one of which, Frank De Lisle, Ue maitre de wagon,^
sold me for fifty dollars, whom, from his fanciful color,
brown and white spots, and white eyes, was designated
by the descriptive though not euphonious name of,
^ Paint d He was a noted buffalo chaser, and I antici-
pated much excitement through his services.

“The way the mules were broken to wagon harness
would have astonished the Tull-blooded’ animals of
Kentucky and other horse-raising States exceedingly.
It was a treatment none but hardy Mexican or scrub
mules could survive. They first had to be lassoed by

240

Beyond the Old Frontier

our expert Mexican, Bias, their heads drawn up to a
wagon wheel, with scarce two inches of spare rope to
relax the tight noose on their necks, and starved for
twenty-four hours to subdue their fiery tempers; then
harnessed to a heavy wagon, lashed unmercifully when
they did not pull, whipped still harder when they ran
into still faster speed, until, after an hour’s bewilder-
ment, and plunging and kicking, they became tract-
able and broken down — a labor-saving operation, with
the unflinching motto of ‘kill or cure.’

The pulling out of the train from near Westport was
an interesting and exciting event. Teamsters were
shouting to their newly yoked bulls; the herders were
driving along the caballada; mounted men were hurry-
ing back and forth; the leader of the company and his
wagon-master were constantly passing to and fro from
one end of the train to the other, seeing how things
went, and looking for weak spots among the teams and
the wagons. A few days later came the first rain-storm
— a dismal occasion to the young traveller on the
plains. There are few old plainsmen but can still
recall something of the discomfort of a long day’s
travel in the storm; of the camping at night with clo-
thing thoroughly wet and bodies thoroughly chilled,
and the sitting or lying, or perhaps even sleeping in the
wet clothing. “The wagons being full of goods, and we
without tents, a cheerless, chilling, soaking, wet night
was the consequence. As the water penetrated, suc-
cessively, my blanket, coat, and shirt, and made its

A Boy in Indian Camps

241

way down my back, a cold shudder came over me; in
the gray, foggy morning a more pitiable set of hungry,
shaking wretches were never seen. Oh! but it was hard
on the poor greenhorns!”

At Council Grove, which they reached the last of
September, the train remained for two days, and as
this was the last place travelling westward where hard-
wood could be procured, the men felled hickories and
oaks for spare axle-trees, and swung the pieces under
their wagons. Young Garrard was an eager hunter,
and set out from camp in search of wild turkeys, whose
cries he could hear, but he got none.

Here is another picture of that early life which may
call up in the minds of some readers pleasant memories
of early days when they, too, were a part of such things :
‘‘So soon as a faint streak of light appears in the east,
the cry ^lurn ouV is given by De Lisle; all rise, and,
in half an hour, the oxen are yoked, hitched and started.
For the purpose of bringing everything within a small
compass, the wagons are corralled; that is, arranged
in the form of a pen, when camp is made; and as no
animals in that country are caught without a lasso, they
are much easier noosed if driven in the corral. There,
no dependence must be placed in any but one’s self;
and the sooner he rises, when the cry is given, the
easier can he get his horse.

“Like all persons on the first trip, I was green in the
use of the lasso, and Paint was given to all sorts of
malicious dodging; perhaps I have not worked myself

242 Beyond the Old Frontier

into a profuse perspiration with vexation a hundred
and one times, in vain attempts to trap him.

“Not being able to catch my horse this morning, I
hung my saddle on a wagon and walked, talking to the
loquacious Canadians, whose songs and stories were
most acceptable. They are a queer mixture, anyhow,
these Canadians; rain or shine, hungry or satisfied,
they are the same garrulous, careless fellows; generally
caroling in honor of some brunette Vide Poche, or St.
Louis Creole beauty, or lauding, in the words of their
ancestry, the soft skies and grateful wine of La Belle
France, occasionally uttering a sacre, or enfant de garce,
but suffering no cloud of ill humor to overshadow them
but for a moment. While walking with a languid step,
cheering up their slow oxen, a song would burst out
from one end of the train to the other, producing a
most charming effect.’’

The train was now approaching the buffalo range,
and before long several buffalo were seen. Now, too,
they had reached a country where ^^hois de vaches** —
buffalo chips — were used for fuel, and the collecting of
this was a part of the daily work after camp was made.
More and more buffalo were seen, and before long we
hear of the plain literally covered with them, and now,
as buffalo were killed more often, Garrard is introduced
to a prairie dish which no one will ever eat again. He
says: “The men ate the liver raw, with a slight dash of
gall by way of zest, which, served d la Indian, was not
very tempting to cloyed appetites; but to hungry men,

A Boy in Indian Camps

243

not at all squeamish, raw, warm liver, with raw mar-
row, was quite palatable.

“It would not do,’’ he continues, “for small hunt-
ing parties to build fires to cook with; for, in this hos-
tile Indian country, a smoke would bring inquiring
friends. Speaking of hostile Indians, reminds me of a
question related by one of our men: at a party, in a
Missouri frontier settlement, a lady asked a moun-
taineer, fresh from the Platte, ‘if hostile Indians are as
savage as those who serve on foot!’

“Returning to camp the prairie was black with the
herds; and, a good chance presenting itself, I struck
spurs into Paint, directing him toward fourteen or
fifteen of the nearest, distant eight or nine hundred
yards. We (Paint and I) soon neared them, giving me
a flying view of their unwieldy proportions, and, when
within fifteen feet of the nearest I raised my rifle half
way to the face and fired. Reloading, still in hot pur-
suit (tough work to load on a full run), I followed,
though without catching up. One feels a delightfully
wild sensation when in pursuit of a band of buffalo,
on a fleet horse, with a good rifle, and without a hat,
the winds playing around the flushed brow, when with
hair streaming, the rider nears the frightened herd,
and, with a shout of exultation, discharges his rifle. I
returned to the party highly gratified with my first,
though unsuccessful, chase, but Mr. St. Vrain put a
slight damper to my ardor, by simply remarking —

“‘The next time you ‘Tun meat” don’t let the horse

244

Beyond the Old Frontier

go in a trot and yourself in a gallop ’ (I had, in my eager-
ness, leaned forward in the saddle, and a stumble of
the horse would have pitched me over his head); by
which well-timed and laconic advice, I afterward prof-
ited.”

From this time on there was much chasing of buffalo,
but little killing of them, except by the old hands. The
young ones, of course, neither knew how to shoot nor
where to shoot, and our author naively remarks, after
one of his chases: “To look at a buffalo, one would
think that they could not run with such rapidity; but,
let him try to follow with an ordinary horse, and he is
soon undeceived.”

During the efforts of the greenhorns to kill buffalo
this incident occurred: “Mr. Chadwick (of St. Louis,
on his first trip, like several of us, for pleasure),
seeing a partially blind bull, concluded to ‘make meat’
of him; crawling up close, the buffalo scented him
and pitched about every way, too blind to travel
straight or fast. Chad fired; the mad animal, di-
rected by the rifle report, charged. How they did
‘lick it’ over the ground! He pursued, yelling, half in
excitement, half in fear, till they were close to the
wagons, where the pursuer changed tack, only to be
shot by one of the teamsters with a nor’-west fusil.”

It is natural enough that the boy author, while
travelling for the first time through the buffalo range,
should think and write chiefly about buffalo, yet he
finds time to tell of the prairie-dog towns through

A Boy m Indian Camps

245

which they passed, and of the odd ways of the dogs and
the curious apparent companionship or at least co-
habitation of the snakes and the prairie owls with
them. As they passed through this region north of
the Arkansas in the hot, dry weather of the early fall,
they suffered sometimes from thirst. The first grave
passed by the train aroused melancholy and sympa-
thetic feelings in the boy’s heart.

One day Garrard went out hunting with Mr. St.
Vrain and another, and a band of buffalo were dis-
covered on their way to water. Here Garrard first
found himself near a wounded bull, and the picture
that he paints of the monster is a true and a striking
one. “Mr. St. Vrain, dismounting, took his rifle, and
soon was on the ‘approach,’ leaving us cached behind
a rise of the ground to await the gun report. We laid
down with our blankets, which we always carried
strapped to the saddle, and, with backs to the wind,
talked in a low tone, until hearing Mr. St. Vrain’s gun,
when we remounted. Again and again the rifle was
heard, in hasty succession, and hastening to him, we
found a fat cow stretched, and a wounded male limp-
ing slowly off. The animals were tied to the horns
of our cow; and, with butcher knives, we divested the
body of its fine coat; but, finding myself a ‘green hand,’
at least not an adept, in the mysteries of prairie butch-
ering, I mounted Paint for the wounded fellow, who
had settled himself, with his fore legs doubled under
him, three hundred yards from us. Mine was a high

246

Beyond the Old Frontier

pommeled, Mexican saddle, with wooden stirrups; and,
when once seated, it was no easy matter to be dis-
lodged. Paint went up within twenty yards of the
growling, wounded, gore-covered bull, and there stood
trembling, and imparting some of his fear to myself.

“With long, shaggy, dirt-matted, and tangled locks
falling over his glaring, diabolical eyes, blood stream-
ing from nose and mouth, he made the most ferocious
looking object it is possible to conceive; and, if nurses
could portray to obstinate children in true colors the
description of a mad buffalo bull, the oft-repeated
‘bugaboo’ would soon be an obsolete idea.

“While looking with considerable trepidation on the
vanquished monarch of the Pawnee plains, he started
to his feet; and, with a jump, materially lessened the
distance between us, which so scared Paint that he
reared backward, nearly sliding myself and gun over
his tail; and before the bridle rein could be tightened,
ran some rods; but, turning his head, and setting the
rowels of my spurs in his flanks, I dashed up within
thirty feet of the bull; and at the crack of the gun, the
‘poor buffler’ dropped his head, his skin convulsively
shook, his dark eyes, no longer fired with malignancy,
rolled back in the sockets, and his spirit departed for
the region of perpetual verdure and running waters,
beyond the reach of white man’s rifle or the keen lance
of the prairie warrior.”

And then the picture with which he closes the
chapter covering the march through the buffalo range!

A Boy in Indian Camps

247

How boyish, and vet how charming and how true
it is!

‘‘Good humor reigned triumphant throughout
camp. Canadian songs of mirth filled the air; and at
every mess fire, pieces of meat were cooking en appolas;
that is, on a stick sharpened, with alternate fat and
lean meat, making a delicious roast. Among others,
houdins were roasting without any previous culinary
operation, but the tying of both ends, to prevent the
fat, as it was liquified, from wasting; and when pro-
nounced ‘good’ by the hungry, impatient judges, it
was taken off the hot coals, puffed up with the heat
and fat, the steam escaping from little punctures, and
coiled on the ground, or a not particularly clean sad-
dle blanket, looking for all the world like a dead snake.

“The fortunate owner shouts, ‘Hyar’s the doin’s,
and hyar’s the ’coon as savys “poor bull” from “fat
cow”; freeze into it, boys!’ And all fall to, with ready
knives, cutting off savory pieces of this exquisitely ap-
petizing prairie production.

“At our mess fire there was a whole side of ribs
roasted. When browned thoroughly we handled the
long bones, and as the generous fat dripped on our
clothes, we heeded it not, our minds wrapped up with
the one absorbing thought of satisfying our relentless
appetites; progressing in the work of demolition, our
eyes closed with ineffable bliss. Talk of an em-
peror’s table— why, they could imagine nothing half
so good! The meal ended, the pipe lent its aid to

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Beyond the Old Frontier

complete our happiness, and, at night we retired to
the comfortable blankets, wanting nothing, caring for
nothing.”

Late in October the train met with the advance
guard of a party of Cheyenne warriors, then on the war-
path for scalps and horses against the Pawnee nation.
These were the first really wild Indians that Garrard
had seen, and their picturesqueness and unusual ap-
pearance greatly interested him. In those days the
Cheyennes had never been at war with the white peo-
ple, and they were on terms of especial friendliness
with Bent and St. Vrain, from whose trading posts
they obtained their supplies. A little later, on the
way to Bent’s Fort, they passed a Cheyenne medicine
lodge, with its sweat-house, and later still Indian
graves on scaffolds which rested on the horizontal
limbs of the cottonwood trees. A day or two after
this they reached Fort William, or Bent’s Fort, where
they met William Bent, in his day one of the best-
known men of the southern plains. A few days were
spent there, and then came the most interesting ad-
venture that the boy had had.

Early in November he started for the Cheyenne
village with John Smith, who, with his wife, his little
boy Jack, and a Canadian, were setting out for the
village to trade for robes.

John Smith is believed to have been the first white
man ever to learn the Cheyenne language, so as to be
able to interpret it into English. When he made his

A Boy in Indian Camps

appearance on the plains we do not know, but he was
there in the ’30’s, and for many years was employed
by Bent and St. Vrain to follow the Indians about
and trade with them for robes. Early in his life on the
plains he had married a Cheyenne woman and estab-
lished intimate relations with the tribe, among whom
he remained for many years. He was present in the
camp of the Cheyennes during the Chivington massacre
at Sand Creek, in 1864, at which time his son. Jack,
the child mentioned by Garrard in this volume, was
killed by the soldiers, being shot in the back by a sol-
dier who saw his shadow on the lodge skins and fired
at it. It is said that John Smith himself came very
near being killed, and had a hard time in talking the
Colorado soldiers out of killing him. He has a son
now living at Pine Ridge.

The small party journeyed on toward the village,
and while Pierre, the Canadian, drove the wagon, and
the woman and her child rode in silence. Smith and
Garrard kept up a lively conversation. Smith was
anxious to learn all about the “States” and life there,
while Garrard replied to him with inquiries about
Indians and their ways. And so, day after day, they
journeyed over the plain until the cone-shaped lodges
of the village came in sight, to be reached a few hours
later. Riding into the camp, they halted at the lodge
of one of the principal men, and unsaddling and un-
packing their animals there, entered it with their goods,
and according to custom established themselves in the

250

Beyond the Old Frontier

back part, which was at once given up to them by the
host. And now began an entirely new life for Garrard
— a life into which he threw himself with the whole-
hearted enthusiasm of a healthy lad, and which he
thoroughly enjoyed. The days and evenings in the
camp; the moving from place to place over the prairie;
the misfortunes which happened to the men unaccus-
tomed to such life, are all described. Vivid glimpses
of the marching Indian column are given in the follow-
ing paragraphs:

“The young squaws take much care of their dress
and horse equipments; they dashed furiously past
on wild steeds, astride of the high-pommeled saddles.
A fancifully colored cover, worked with beads or
porcupine quills, making a flashy, striking appearance,
extended from withers to rump of the horse, while
the riders evinced an admirable daring, worthy of
Amazons. Their dresses were made of buckskin, high
at the neck, short sleeves, or rather none at all, fitting
loosely, and reaching obliquely to the knee, giving a
relieved, Diana look to the costume; the edges scalloped,
worked with beads, and fringed. From the knee, down-
ward, the limb was encased in a tightly fitting leggin,
terminating in a neat moccasin — both handsomely
worked with beads. On the arms were bracelets of
brass, which glittered and reflected in the radiant,
morning sun, adding much to their attractions. In
their pierced ears, shells from the Pacific shore, were
pendant; and, to complete the picture of savage tzsvt

A Boy in Indian Camps

251

and profusion, their fine complexions were eclipsed by
a coat of flaming Vermillion.

“Many of the largest dogs were packed with a
small quantity of meat, or something not easily injured.
They looked queerly, trotting industriously under their
burdens; and, judging from a small stock of canine
physiological information, not a little of the wolf was
in their composition. These dogs are extremely mus-
cular and are compactly built.

“We crossed the river on our way to the new camp.
The alarm manifested by the ki-kun (children) in the
lodge-pole drays, as they dipped in the water, was
amusing; the little fellows, holding their breaths, not
daring to cry, looked imploringly at their inexorable
mothers, and were encouraged by words of approba-
tion from their stern fathers. Regaining the grassy
bottom, we once more went in a fast walk.

“The different colored horses, the young Indian
beaux, the bold, bewildering belles, and the newness
of the scene were gratifying in the extreme to my un-
accustomed senses. After a ride of two hours we
stopped, and the chiefs, fastening their horses, col-
lected in circles, to smoke the pipe and talk, letting
their squaws unpack the animals, pitch the lodges,
build fires, arrange the robes, and, when all was ready,
these ‘lords of creation’ dispersed to their several
homes to wait until their patient and enduring spouses
prepared some food. I was provoked, nay, angry, to
see the lazy, overgrown men, do nothing to help their

252

Beyond the Old Frontier

wives; and, when the young women pulled off their
bracelets and finery, to chop wood, the cup of my
wrath was full to overflowing, and, in a fit of honest
indignation, I pronounced them ungallant and savage
in the true sense of the word. A wife, here, is, indeed, a
helpmeet.”

Bravery, endurance, and hardihood were in those
days a part of the education of each Indian boy, and
here is a glimpse of the training received by a baby,
which should fit him for the hardships that each war-
rior must endure. This was the grandson of the Vip-
po-nah, a boy six or seven months old:

“Every morning, his mother washed him in cold
water, and sent him out to the air to make him hardy;
he would come in, perfectly nude, from his airing, about
half frozen. How he would laugh and brighten up, as
he felt the warmth of the fire! Being a boy, the par-
ents have great hopes of him as a brave and chief (the
acme of Indian greatness); his father dotes upon
him, holding him in his arms, singing in a low tone,
and in various ways, showing his extreme affection.”

One of the subjects discussed by Garrard and John
Smith before they reached the Cheyenne village was
prairie foods. Smith spoke of the excellence of dog
meat, while Garrard declared that it must be horrible,
saying that buffalo meat was unquestionably the most
delicate food in this or any other country. Smith
agreed that buffalo was the best, but that dog meat
was the next, and offered to bet that he would make

A Boy in Indian Camps

253

Garrard eat dog meat in the village and make him
declare that it was good. How John Smith carried
out his threat is told in the following paragraphs:

“One evening we were in our places — I was lying
on a pile of outspread robes, watching the blaze, as it
illumined the lodge, which gave the yellow hue of the
skins of which it was made, a still brighter tinge; and,
following with my eye, the thin blue smoke, coursing, in
fantastic shapes, through the opening at the top of the
cone; my thoughts carrying me momentarily every-
where; now home; now enjoying some choice edible,
or, seated by a pleasant friend, conversing; in short, my
mind, like the harp in Alexander’s feast, the chords of
which, touched by the magic hand of memory, or flight
of fancy, alternately depressed, or elevated me in feeling.
Greenwood and Smith, sitting up, held in ‘durance
vile’ the ever present pipe. Their unusual laughter
attracted my attention, but, not divining the cause I
joined in the conversation. It was now quite late, and
feeling hungry, I asked what was on the fire.
“‘Terrapins! ’ promptly replied Smith.

“‘Terrapins?’ echoed I, in surprise, at the name.
‘Terrapins! How do you cook them?’

“‘You know them hard-shell land terrapin?’

“‘Yes.’

“‘Well! the squaws go out to the sand buttes and
bring the critters in and cook ’em in the shell alive
— those stewin’ thar ar cleaned first. Howsomever,
they’re darned good!’

254

Beyond the Old Frontier

“'Yes, hos, an’ that’s a fact, wagh!’ chimed in Green-
wood.

“I listened, of course, with much interest to their
account of the savage dish, and waited, with impa-
tience for a taste of that, the recital of whose mer-
its sharpened my already keen appetite. When the
squaw transferred the contents of the kettle to a wooden
bowl, and passed it on to us, our butcher knives were
in immediate requisition. Taking a piece, with hun-
gry avidity, which Smith handed me, without thought,
as to what part of the terrapin it was, I ate it with
much gusto, calling for more.’ It was extremely good,
and I spoke of the delicacy of the meat, and answered
all their questions as to its excellency in the affirma-
tive, even to the extent of a panegyric on the whole
turtle species. After fully committing myself. Smith
looked at me a while in silence, the corners of his mouth
gradually making preparations for a laugh, and asked:

“ 'Well, hos! how do you like dogmeat.^’ and then
such hearty guffaws were never heard. The stupefac-
tion into which I was thrown by the revolting an-
nouncement, only increased their merriment, which soon
was resolved into yells of delight at my discomfiture.

''A revulsion of opinion, and dogmeat too, ensued,
for I could feel the ‘pup’ crawling up my throat; but
saying to myself — 'that it was good under the name of
terrapin,’ 'that a rose under any other name would
smell as sweet,’ and that it would be prejudice to stop,
I broke the shackles of deep-rooted antipathy to the

A Boy in Indian Camps

25S

canine breed, and, putting a choice morceau on top of
that already swallowed, ever after remained a stanch
defender and admirer of dogmeat. The conversa-
tion held with Smith, the second day of our acquaint-
ance, was brought to mind, and I acknowledged that
dog’ was next in order to buffalo.”

Life in the Cheyenne camp went on interestingly.
Garrard began to make a vocabulary of the Cheyenne
language, and soon to speak it in a broken fashion
which caused his auditors to shriek with laughter.
He watched them at the sign language, amused them
with games and the few books which he possessed,
went to feasts, noted the odd implements and ways of
his camp mates, and set down all that happened, to-
gether with his boyish reflections on the incidents.

The discipline practised by John Smith on his son
Jack will bear repeating. It seems that the child had
taken to crying one night, much to the annoyance of
four or five chiefs who had come to the lodge to talk
and smoke. “In vain did the mother shake and scold
him with the severest Cheyenne words, until Smith,
provoked beyond endurance, took the squalling young-
ster in hands; he ‘shu-ed’ and shouted, and swore, but
Jack had gone too far to be easily pacified. He then
sent for a bucket of water from the river, and poured
cupfull after cupfull on Jack, who stamped and screamed,
and bit, in his puny rage. Notwithstanding, the icy
stream slowly descended until the bucket was emp-
tied, another was sent for, and again and again the

256

Beyond the Old Frontier

cup was replenished and emptied on the blubbering
youth. At last, exhausted with exertion, and com-
pletely cooled down, he received the remaining water
in silence, and, with a few words of admonition, was de-
livered over to his mother, in whose arms he stifled
his sobs, until his heart-breaking grief and cares were
drowned in sleep. What a devilish mixture Indian and
American blood is!”

Garrard was a healthy, natural boy, and with all a
boy’s love of fun. He mingled readily and naturally
in the sports and amusements of the young people of
the Cheyenne camp and heartily enjoyed it. In those
days the white trader in the Indian camp was regarded
as a great man, and was treated with respect, to re-
tain which he carried himself with much dignity.
But Garrard cared nothing for this respect, and made
no effort to preserve this dignity. He danced and
sang with the boys and girls, and the women were
astonished to find a white person so careless of ap-
pearances, though they liked him all the better for it.

On one occasion in the winter there was much ex-
citement in the Cheyenne camp. A war-party was
returning, and all the men, women, and children black-
ened their faces and went out to meet them. The
returning warriors advanced in triumph, for they had
three scalps, borne on slender willow wands, and hang-
ing from each scalp was a single tuft of hair which
told that they were Pawnees. Now there was great
rejoicing in the camp, and many dances to celebrate

A Boy in Indian Camps

2S7

the victory and to rejoice over the triumph that the
tribe had made over its enemies. “The drum, at night,
sent forth its monotony of hollow sound, and our
Mexican, Pedro, and I, directed by the booming, en-
tered a lodge, vacated for the purpose, full of young
men and squaws, following one another in a contin-
uous circle, keeping the left knee stiff, and bending
the right with a half-forward, half-negative step, as if
they wanted to go on and could not, accompanying it,
every time the right foot was raised, with an energetic,
broken song, which, dying away, was again and again
sounded — hay-a-hay, hay-a-hay, they went — laying
the emphasis on the first syllable. A drum, similar to,
though larger than, a tamborine, covered with par-
fleche, was beat upon with a stick, producing with the
voices a sound not altogether disagreeable. . . .

“During the day, the young men, except the dancers,
piled up dry logs in a level, open space near, for a grand
demonstration. At night, when it was fired, I folded
my blanket over my shoulders, comme les sauvages, and
went out. The faces of many girls were brilliant with
Vermillion; others were blacked, their robes, leggins
and skin dresses, glittering with beads and porcupine
quill work. Rings and bracelets of shining brass en-
circled their taper arms and fingers, and shells dangled
from their ears. Indeed, all the finery collectable was
piled on in barbarous profusion, though a few, in good
taste or through poverty, wore a single band, and but
few rings; and with jetty hair, parted in the middle,

Beyond the Old Frontier

from the forehead to the neck, terminating in two
handsome braids. . . .

“The girls, numbering two hundred, fell into line
together, and the men, of whom there were two hun-
dred and fifty, joining, a circle was formed, which
‘traveled’ around with the same shuffling step al-
ready described. The drummers, and other musicians
(twenty or twenty-five of them) marched in a contrary
direction, to, and from, and around the fire, inside
the large ring; for, at the distance kept by the out-
siders, the area was one hundred and fifty feet in
diameter. There Appolonian emulators chanted the
great deeds performed by the Cheyenne warriors; as
they ended, the dying strain was caught up by the hun-
dreds of the outside circle, who, in fast-swelling, loud
tones, poured out the burden of their song. At this
juncture, the march was quickened, the scalps of the
slain were borne aloft and shaken in wild delight, and
shrill warnotes, rising above the furious din, accel-
erated the pulsation, and strung high the nerves. Time-
worn shields, careering in mad holders’ hands, clashed,
and keen lances, once reeking in Pawnee blood, clanged.
Braves seized one another with an iron grip, in the
heat of excitement, or chimed more tenderly in the
chant, enveloped in the same robe with some gentle
maiden as they approvingly stepped through one of
their own original polkas.

“Thirty of the chiefs, and principal men were ranged
by the pile of blazing logs. By their invitation, I sat

CHEYENNE INDIAN CAMP

>7 .-^'4*:.

: ' ■ : '• • V;'V^-''

i. ^ ' :. ■ ?i,!:--'--V'^.:;

■■ '

•■■W-:

•■*r :

■ >'

A Boy in Indian Camps

259

down near ‘Old Bark,’ and smoked death and its con-
comitant train of evils to those audacious tribes, who
doubt the courage or supremacy of the brave, the
great, and powerful Cheyenne nation.

“The pipe was lavishly decorated with beaver strips,
beads, and porcupine; the mixture of tobacco and
bark, was prepared with unusual care for this, their
grand gala night.”

It would be interesting to follow Garrard through
his life in the Cheyenne camp, but space forbids this.
He was called away from this interesting life by the
news which came from the West of the death at the
hands of the Pueblos of Governor Charles Bent, in
New Mexico. Fugitives who had escaped the attack
had come' to Fort William and told what had hap-
pened, and soon after, William Bent, with twenty-three
men, started for the Mexican settlements. They passed
far to the southward of Pike’s Peak, met a few United
States soldiers and volunteers, and toward the middle
of February were joined by Sublette, with two com-
panions, who reported forty thousand men enlisted
for Mexico. Toiling through the mountains in true
winter weather, the party marched on until they carrie
to one of Bent’s ranches and at last reached Taos.
From this on, the author’s route was much among the
Mexicans of the various towns until, at last, turning his
face eastward, he came back across the mountains,
and once more found himself in the Cheyenne village,
whence soon afterward he set out for the East.

26o

Beyond the Old Frontier

AN ATTACK BY COMANCHES

Although Garrard had seen plenty of Indians, and
had been present at more than one skirmish, he had
not yet taken part in a real Indian fight, though he
had long wished to do so. On the way back this de-
sire was gratified, and the boy, with his eighteenth
birthday only just behind him, paints in one of the
last chapters of his book a spirited picture of the
alarms, surprises, narrow escapes, and swift changes
of an Indian raid on the moving wagon-trains near the
Pawnee Fork of the Arkansas. His trip on the plains
ended in an exciting fighting climax, and we can fancy
that it gave the boy material for talk and for delightful
recollections during the rest of his life.

‘‘We were started early. The wagons traveled in
double file, so that in case of an attack from the leagued
Camanches and Arapahoes, whose propinquity was as
well-known as dreaded, they would not be strung along
too great a space. The caballada was driven and kept
between these two lines of the train.

“Late in the afternoon, when the sun was fast sinking
to its golden-hued, silver-flecked bed, and the drooping
ears of the flagging mules betokened weariness, objects
were seen directly before us in the trace. Keen-eyed
Barton, in calling our attention to them, uttered his
opinion in the single significant word, * Injuns!^

A Boy in Indian Camps 261

“ ‘Indians, say you, Barton?’ inquired the colonel,
looking in the direction pointed, ‘Indians? Upon my
word I believe so. Come on, we’ll reconnoiter, and
say nothing to the train until the fact is ascertained —
indeed, I hope not’ — and, striking spurs into his large
brown California mule, he loped forward, followed by
some eight or ten of us. We soon ascertained, beyond
a doubt, enough danger to lessen our party to five —
the colonel. Barton, Brown, McCarty, and myself,
who kept on until within less than a quarter of a mile
of the large party of mounted warriors. That por-
tion of our men who had put back with all possible
speed, set the train in a ferment by their prodigious
narrations.

“In front, on the opposite rise of ground, was a sight
to make the stoutest heart among us quail; for the
Indian force, displayed within long rifleshot, num-
bered, according to our unanimous estimate, four hun-
dred strong, glittering with gay pennons, bright lance-
heads, and savage ornaments. Young braves rode
their plunging barbs restlessly to and fro. The shrill
and startling notes of preparation reached us but too
plainly; and we hurried back to await for the expected
charge. The train was in almost inextricable confu-
sion, but the colonel soon restored order. The wag-
ons, mules, and men advanced to the brow of the hill
and made a coral: that is, the two front wagons came
together, and the inside forewheels of those following,
were made to touch the outside hindwheel of the one

262

Beyond the Old Frontier

immediately in front. In this manner, a secure but
irregular oval pen was formed, into which were driven
the oxen, the caballada, and the riding animals, thus
leaving the men free to devote their whole attention
to the enemy. There was little noise, but much alac-
rity, and considerable trepidation among the poor
teamsters, thirty of whom were without firearms.
We had scarcely finished our preparations for de-
fense, when the Indians, with poised lances, furiously
charged upon us. For some time they circled around
our coral with guns unslung, and white shields con-
tinually shifted to protect their bodies. At last they
drew rein; and, on each side of our party, commenced
a lively demonstration, sending their balls singing
through the air; some overhead, some perforating the
wagons and wagon-sheets, and some knocking the fur
from our hide-bound oxen.

“We were drawn up in line outside, fronting the
main body, two hundred and fifty yards distant. We
gave them several rounds, one-half of us reserving
fire until the discharged arms were reloaded. The
Indians scattered after our rather ineffectual volleys,
and their position became more menacing, their war-
whoops more dissonant and savage than before. We
posted ourselves about the wagons, each man to his
liking. Lieutenant Brown, with five men, took a posi-
tion on a knoll fifty yards from us, and kept up an in-
cessant firing, which was warmly reciprocated by the
foe. It became exciting; the warriors galloping furi-

A Boy in Indian Camps

263

ously, bent down, now on this side, now on that, until
nothing of their person could be seen but the heel and
part of the leg thrown across the cantle of the saddle.
From under the horse’s neck would issue a smoke-
cloud, as we heard the sighing of the ball as it cut its
way overhead, or knocked the dust from the dry plain.
Sharply-sighted rifles gave ready answer; cheers rang
out from our exhilarated party, and unfortunate oxen,
stung by furrowing bullets from lumbering escopetas,
plunged and horned each other from side to side of the
crowded coral.

‘‘A California Indian, belonging to Colonel Russell,
ran, with gun in hand, far out toward the foiled enemy,
making the Indian sign of insult and derision; and, in
Spanish, abusing them most scandalously. He came
back before long, in no small hurry, with three of the
outraged foe at his heels, who were in return repelled
at fullest speed by us. A ball overhead, causes even
the coolest man to dodge involuntarily, however surely
he may know that the whistling bullet has already
missed him. This is especially the case in a desultory
scattered fire. Many a hearty laugh was had at the
ludicrous positions into which we found ourselves
thrown by these badly-aimed missiles.

“The Indians detained us an hour, and then, re-
linquishing their coup attempts, moved off toward the
west, to our extreme gratification. Had the charge
been made before the coral was formed, they would
have scalped the whole party, for our force was small.

264

Beyond the Old Frontier

and composed for the most part of green teamsters.
Yoking up, we reached camp, by the river’s side, hot,
thirsty, and irritated at our meager ‘satisfaction.’

“June 19th. The train proceeded with much caution.
Indian spies watched us in the distance, hanging like
wolves on our rear; the gleam of their lances was often
seen among the sandbuttes beyond the river. They
were evidently intending to make another descent, on
the first fair opportunity. Our flankguards were on
the alert, and the day ended without a conflict. The
country was sparsely wooded with cottonwood and
boxelder, and hois de vaches supersedes substantial fuel
for several days travel through the region of the ‘Coon
Creeks.’

“Our animals were saddled, hitched, and the train
in motion, after an early cup of coffee. The air brisk
and cool, and the sky clear, gave promise of a fair day’s
travel; and even uneasy fears of Camanche attack
were not sufficient to check our joyous feelings. It was
the duty of the horsemen to push forward at mealtime,
select a camp, and wait for the arrival of the train.
Near noon, we entered a large ‘bottom,’ horseshoe-
shaped, around which the river made a circuit of three
miles or more. The wagons kept the trace across the
neck, and a party, composed of Colonel Russell, Mr.
Coolidge, and myself, on mules, and three others, on
horses, followed the course of the stream to gather fuel.
This I laid across the pommel of the colonel’s saddle,
as I collected it, and he was already loaded with suffi-

A Boy in Indian Camps

265

cient to boil our cup of coffee and fry the slice of pork
for which we were well prepared by several hours’
fasting, when, all at once, the three horsemen strung
out in a straight shoot for the wagons, without a word
to us. ‘Hallo!’ shouted we, ‘what’s your hurry?’
The fast receding men said nothing, but pointed to
the southwest, in which direction there approached, at
full speed, a war-party of about forty, endeavoring to
cut us off from the wagons which were then corailing
in great confusion. Dusky figures, and light puffs of
smoke, showed faintly in the distance, the attack on
the straggling train. No time was to be lost in rejoin-
ing our company, and back we spurred, to the tune of
Camanche take the hindmost. The lines of the In-
dian attack and our return were convergent, and it
was a mere question of speed whether we lost our top-
knots or gained the coral. The pursuers already had
the advantage. The colonel threw down his wood, and
I replaced the old cap on my rifle with a fresh one, de-
termined that one should ‘go under’ before my ‘hair
was lifted.’ I led the retreat, mounted on a small iron-
gray mule — a native of the California savannas — who
bounded most gallantly — for a mule — over the prairie.
Colonel Russell followed in my wake, but Coolidge
was still behind. Our pace seemed snail-like, and we
jammed our rifle butts into the flanks of the poor
beasts most unmercifully.

“ ‘Come on, Coolidge,’ shouted the Colonel to the
frightened trader, ‘come on, we’ll soon be safe.’

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Beyond the Old Frontier

‘“Yes, yes! but this fool animal isn’t worth a cuss
for running,’ and with that, he gave the poor mule an-
other ^ chug' with his sharp riflestock. No exertion
was spared, no incentive was neglected, to urge our
dull beasts along; and though there was but small
chance for escaping a lance thrust, we answered loudly
their yells. When within three hundred yards of the
wagon, I looked back, and saw Coolidge far behind,
with several Indians close upon him, the foremost
brandishing his lance. I shouted to the colonel that
Coolidge was gone, and immediately we jerked our
animals around. The colonel aimed hastily, fired, and
galloped back to the coral. I spurred on to cover
Coolidge’s retreat, who came lumbering with the owgh-
ozvgh-he-a of his pursuers close to his ear. When I
drew rein, and placed it between my teeth, my mule,
contrary to all precedent and custom, stood stock still,
while I took steady aim, at the nearest savage, who,
flying along with eager look and harsh yell, was stri-
ving to make a sure blow. His band followed on his
track, at distances various as their horses’ speed.
Coolidge, with eyes staring with fright, bent close down
to his mule’s neck. When I first drew bead on the
Camanche’s painted hide, he was approaching in a
quartering direction to my right; as the gentleman was
rather fleshy about the umbilical region, and tender
withal, to make a sure shot, I kept the silver bead at
my rifle point, at that particular spot, until he had
passed to the left. With the report the yellow devil’s

A Boy in Indian Camps

267

legs twitched in pain (I was so close to him that I could
see even his features with disagreeable distinctness),
and throwing up his horse’s head, he galloped olF to the
river. Those who watched, say that he did not come
back.

“ Reloading at full speed, Coolidge and I hurried into
the coral, which was just being closed. We dis-
mounted, merely giving each other a look of congratu-
lation; for the rattling of the guns, and the warwhoops
and yells of the men, drowned our voices, and left us
nothing to do but fight. For that work, with a good
will, and quite systematically, we prepared ourselves.
The Colonel’s party were firing with much earnestness.
A short distance of the place where we were gathering
wood, a large force was descending the sand buttes, glit-
tering with bright gun-barrels, swords, and lances — a
well-armed band. They crossed the river in a trot, which
was quickened into a charge as they reached the bank,
and, at one hundred and fifty yards distance, they
opened their fire. For a few minutes, rifles, warwhoops,
escopetas, hurrahs, contended in discordant strife — a
tumult of wild sounds. But they could not stand our
well-directed fire, and fell back. They left no dead
on the field. This is never done, and the only token of
the effect of our balls was, by the wounded precipi-
tately leaving the immediate scene of action. To give
straightout evidence of injury, by show of pain, or
otherwise, is a breach of their code of honor — an in-
fringement severely rebuked by the taunts of the tribe

268

Beyond the Old Frontier

— a weakness not soon forgotten or forgiven by the old
chiefs, whose duty and care it is, to sustain, by precept
and example, the national bravery and hardihood.
They consider not the death, merely, of an enemy, a
victory — a coup must be counted. On a horse-stealing
expedition, this is a horse; in battle, a scalp; and the
trophies must be shown at home, before the warrior is
allowed to decorate his robe with the black hand. When
an Indian falls too far gone to rescue himself, his friends
rush up and bear him off between their fleet steeds.

“They rallied and again circled around us, with their
white shields protecting their bodies, tossing their
spears, and showing off their beautiful horses, and their
own graceful persons, to the best advantage. Their
intention was to make a charge on the first vulnerable
point, but we, being too well guarded, they, after many
feints, fell back. I sat flat on the ground, my rifle
resting on the spoke of a wagon-wheel — firing as often
as an Indian came within range — and, when the
painted, warwhooping target vamosed for safer quar-
ters, at the crack of the gun, certainly no other than a
smile of satisfaction lit up my face. If none fell out-
right, it was not that any qualms of conscience pre-
vented my taking cool and sure aim, at those who, after
chasing a mile, and nearly scaring the life out of us,
were then keeping us penned in the hot sun without
water.

“One Indian, who, from his distinguished, though
scanty, dress, was a ‘brave’ of the first order, came

A Boy in Indian Camps

269

close into our lines, throwing himself behind the body
of his horse, so as to show nothing but a hand and foot;
but, as he raised himself, one of the coloneFs men cut,
with his rifleball, a neatly-dressed skin, that hung at
his neck, which we picked up after the fight, as our only
trophy. They now tossed their balls into us from a long
distance, by elevating their pieces, being convinced that
our coral could not be broken without great loss of life.
Two teamsters, about this time getting scared at the
whistling missiles, crept, for security, into an empty
wagon. They had scarcely made themselves comfort-
able, when a ball, crashing through both sides of their
defense, buried itself in the side of a poor steer. The
terrified Neds tumbled out, greeted by the roars of the
men around.

“ ‘That’s what you get for your cussed cowardice,’
drawled out one of the fellows.

“‘Well, I’ll be darned, if that wasn’t a grazer,’ ejac-
ulated Charley McCarty. ‘Feel if you haven’t got a
hole in your dogskin — I’d hate to be as bad scared as
you, by thunder!’

“We were detained upward of two hours. Our fa-
tigued and heated oxen were nearly dropping with
thirst. The savages filed slowly up the sand buttes on
the other side of the river, and we proceeded to camp,
each man talking of his own shots.

“June 22. We expected to reach the Pawnee Fork
during the morning’s march, and as there were bluffs
near the camp, and several streams intervening, thick-

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Beyond the Old Frontier

set with timber, favorable for ambuscade, the advance
guard preceded the train a quarter of a mile. We
were on the alert, our eyes searching every object, our
guns ready to fire, as with bridle-rein firmly grasped,
we galloped along in the bright summer morning. Our
exposed position, and the continual expectation of the
Camanche yell, kept us excited wildly enough, although
no foe delayed our march. By noontide, the saddles
were olF — the wagons coralled, and the tent pitched
once more. Among the remains of the old camps, I
found the skull and skeleton of an Indian. The sin-
ews, well gnawed by the wolves, were not yet dry, and
the skin and hair still graced the head, which, passed
from hand to hand by the curious, was, at last, tossed
into the turbulent waters of the flooded Pawnee Fork.
The Camanche, whose head this was, had been killed
a few days previous, in an encounter with traders.
One or two others ‘went under’ at the same time, but
their bodies had been rescued.

“On the opposite side of the creek, a train from the
States was stopped like ourselves by the risen waters.
I accompanied some of our men over to it. We swam
across, holding our shirts and buckskins in one hand.
At the camp we found a government train, some tra-
ders’ wagons, any quantity of gaping men, and a white-
woman — a real whitewoman! and we gazed upon her
with great satisfaction and curiosity. After gleaning
the ‘news,’ we returned in a full run to the creek, and,
crossing as before, retailed our scanty information.

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271

‘‘The next day was beautiful, and we waited im-
patiently for the slow-receding stream to become ford-
able. The men scattered on both banks, the gra-
zing cattle and caballadas, with the white wagon-tops
of the three camps, made a serene and lovely scene.
About ten o’clock, an immense drove of bulFalo was
seen running in the prairie to the southwest. Some
of our party set off in pursuit on their horses, while
twenty or thirty of us ran down to intercept them as
they crossed the creek. A faint cry of Indians! Indi-
ans! Indians! from the camp reached those nearest the
muleguard, and by them it was repeated and wafted
on to us, who, hardly knowing whether to cache in the
undergrowth, or to run for camp, stood for a moment
undecided, and then ‘streaked it’ for the wagons.
Turning our eyes to the furthest train on the hill, we
perceived it in great commotion. Fifty Indians were
charging among them with their lances, recoiling from
the light volumes of smoke at times, and again swal-
lowing up the little force with their numbers and shut-
ting them in from our sight. Others were stampeding
the oxen. After a conflict of several minutes, they re-
treated, bearing with them a dead warrior, behind the
bluff* hill which jutted boldly from the opposite shore.

“Our teamsters, during the fight, looked on with
mouth and eyes open, in wonderment, regardless of
their own cattle, still feeding in a deeply-fringed sa-
vanna. Tall cottonwood timber, overgrown with the
luxuriant vine and thick-set underbrush, impervious to

272 Beyond the Old Frontier

the eye, confined our stock to this secluded spot. The
creek, half encircling It with a grand sweep, added Its
protection. A lightguard of three men watched the
grazing herd. We were still congratulating ourselves on
our escape, when from the guard, we heard the cry that
the Indians were swimming the creek and driving off
the oxen. More than half the camp started in full
run to protect them. As we rounded the angle of the
stream, yells were heard, then the dusky forms of a
few Indians were seen; and, by the time we were within
long gunshot, some sixty were among the luckless herd,
goading them into a lumbering gallop. The colonel’s
party led the van, and would have saved the cattle,
had the teamsters supported them. But, they hanging

back, we told them that their oxen might go to .

Hurrying back to camp. Colonel Russell mounted his
force and went in pursuit; but, in vain, we tried to re-
pair the loss that negligence and cowardice had effected.
Our ride rescued only thirty oxen, and gave us a view
of the retreating savages, thrusting their lances into
the remainder. In that unfortunate half hour, the
train lost one hundred and sixty steers; which, at the
purchase price — one half less than they were worth on
the prairie — was a damage of four thousand dollars,
together with a total loss of from five to seven thousand
more, in the necessary abandonment of the wagons —
the natural result of sending on the plains a set of green
men, commanded by as raw a director, poorly and
scantily armed with government blunderbusses, and

A Boy in Indian Camps

273

meagerly furnished with from eight to fifteen rounds
of cartridges each, which were often wasted on game or
targets long before reaching the Indian country. And
this was not the only instance of miserable economy,
as the official reports show.

“Our train was in a sad condition; half a yoke to
each wagon. Mr. Coolidge was really to be pitied —
nearly four hundred miles from the States, with but
two oxen to haul four large wagons, heavily loaded with
robes and peltries. The colonel carried a few packs
(as many as he was able); he bargained with one of
the outward-bound trains to take some back to Mann’s
Fort, and the rest he cached. The government peo-
ple crowded their ‘kits’ and provision in three wag-
ons; and, toward evening of the next day, we crossed
the creek which had now subsided, leaving twenty-six
wagons and any amount of extras, to the Indians and
the wolves. Toward sundown, as we were hitching
up to travel in the night, a party of dragoons, filing
down the hill, made camp near. Lieutenant J. Love,
commanding, was informed of the outrage, and prom-
ised satisfaction. We stopped a moment at the train,
with which the first fight had occurred. One poor fel-
low, named Smith, from Van Buren County, Missouri,
had been lanced seven times through the neck and
breast. He killed the Indian that fell, while on his
back and already wounded.”

Garrard’s trip on the plains ended in true story-
book fashion, and, we can fancy, gave the boy material

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Beyond the Old Frontier

for reminiscence and story-telling for many a long
year.

This book, and many another of the period, mention
constantly, and in most familiar fashion, names that
to old-timers in the West are familiar as household
words — men whom, in their old age, we ourselves per-
haps knew; men with whose sons and daughters we
have lived as contemporaries. But the generation that
knew these old-timers, Carson, Bridger, Jack Robin-
son, Jim and John Baker, Bent, St. Vrain, Sublette,
Hugh Monroe, Ike Edwards, Bill Gary, Symonds,
Beaubien, La Jeunesse, Rowland, and a hundred others
whose names could be given, has for the most part
passed away.

These names belong to the history of the early West.
Soon they will be historic only, for those who have
known them will also have crossed the Great Divide,
and there will be none who can recall their personality.

THE SOLITARY HUNTER

PRAIRIE TRAVEL

IN the year 1847 John Palliser, an Irishman, sailed
from Liverpool by the good ship “Cambria’’ for
an extended trip in America to make acquaint-
ance with “our Trans-Atlantic brethren, and to ex-
tend my visit to the regions still inhabited by America’s
aboriginal people — now, indeed, driven far westward
of their rightful territories and pressed backward into
that ocean of prairies extending to the foot of the great
Rocky Mountains.”

Palliser was a young man of good family, the son of
Colonel Wray Palliser, of Comragh, County Waterford.
Like so many of his race, he was energetic, quick-
witted, forceful, and possessed a great fund of humor.
He seems to have been first of all a hunter, and like
all successful hunters to have been a keen and close
observer. Some time after his return to England he
wrote a book giving his experiences of adventure in
the Far West. It is one of the best books of hunting
adventure ever written — terse, always to the point,
modest, giving facts and conclusions, and very little

277

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Beyond the Old Frontier

about his own views of life. The book has long been
out of print and is now not easily obtained, but it is
really a model in the picture that it paints of old-time
conditions and in the self-elFacement of the author.

Palliser has long been forgotten. Almost equally
forgotten are two of his shipmates, whose names at
one time were familiar enough throughout the civilized
world. These were ^‘General Tom Thumb’’ and P. T.
Barnum, who was bringing Tom Thumb back to the
United States after a season of exhibition in Europe.

The ‘‘Cambria” touched for coal at Halifax and then
came on to Boston and New York, where the traveller
stopped at the Astor House, which, he says, is “far
larger than any hotel I ever beheld in the old world.”
From New York he went down to Philadelphia, Balti-
more, Cumberland, and Wheeling, and from there down
the Ohio River to the Mississippi and to St. Louis and
New Orleans. His whole journey, though described
briefly, is full of effective touches, and his comments
and criticisms are keen but kindly. To a description
of New Orleans he gives some space, and speaks with
cordial warmth of the friendliness and hospitality of
the Creole inhabitants.

From New Orleans he went up the Mississippi and
Arkansas (spelled phonetically Arkansor) Rivers, and
spent some time hunting small game, deer, bear, and,
by good fortune, killed a fine panther. A more or less
amusing tale, which Palliser quotes from an experience
of his brother a year before, is worth repeating.

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279

“One day, when comfortably seated with Jackson
and his family, in the neighbourhood of Lake Jefferson,
a little nigger come running in, shouting, ‘Oh, massa!
terrible big alligator; him run at me.’ When we got
him to speak a little more coherently, it appeared that
he had been bathing in the lake, and that an alligator
had suddenly rushed at him, and when the boy, who
luckily was not in deep water, had escaped by running
to land, the brute had actually pursued him for some
distance along the shore. We instantly loaded our ri-
fles and started off* in quest of the monster, accompanied
by the boy, who came as guide. After carefully explor-
ing the bank and reeds, though unsuccessfully, we con-
cealed ourselves, in hopes of seeing him rise to the
top of the water when he thought the coast was clear;
but as we waited a long time without any result, we
proposed what certainly was a most nefarious project;
namely, to make the boy strip off* his clothes and start
him into the water again as a bait for the alligator. It
was some time before we could get the boy to come
round to our view of the matter: his objections to our
plan were very strong, and his master’s threats failed
completely, as indeed they generally did; for he was
the kindest-hearted man in the world to his negroes.
At last I coaxed him with a bright new dollar. This
inducement prevailed over his fears, and the poor boy
began to undress, his eyes all the while reverting alter-
nately from the water to the dollar, and from the dol-
lar to the water. We told him we did not want him

28o

Beyond the Old Frontier

to go in so deep as to be obliged to swim. ‘ By golly,
then, me go for dollare’; and in he walked, but had
hardly reached water higher than his knees, when
crash went the reeds, and the little fellow cut in towards
our place of concealment at an astonishing pace, pur-
sued by the alligator. The savage beast, as before,
came right out on the bank, where we nailed him with
two capital shots through the head, that effectually
checked his career. He struggled violently, but use-
lessly, to regain his congenial element, and, after two
or three furious lashes of his ponderous tail, sullenly
expired. The triumph of the boy was complete.’’

Palllser next went to Louisville, Ky., and after a
pause in that State to inspect the Mammoth Cave, re-
turned to Louisville, where he took the boat for St.
Louis to make preparations for his Rocky Mountain
trip. He locates in St. Louis that excellent story which
has been so often told in the last sixty years about the
two great talkers who were matched on a bet to see
which should outtalk the other.

“Old Mr. Cohen was universally considered a great
talker, so much so, that he even admitted it himself;
but this evening a formidable rival appeared against
him in the person of a strange character from Ken-
tucky, who fairly met him on his own ground, and after
supper evinced such unceasing powers of conversation,
that old Mr. Cohen was unable to get In a word, and
was fain to claim a hearing. ‘Let me speak, let me
speak,’ he gasped several times but with no avail; till,

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281

at last, the fooFs argument was resorted to, and a bet
made which should talk the longest. An umpire was
chosen to determine which of the two loquacious com-
batants should be the winner; but, as might naturally
be supposed, none of us had the patience to sit out the
contest, so we went off to bed, leaving a plentiful
supply of brandy, sugar, and iced water. Next morn-
ing, at a quarter past five, victory was declared for
Missouri, the umpire returning at that hour and find-
ing the Kentucky man fast asleep in his arm chair, and
old Mr. Cohen sitting up close beside him and whisper-
ing in his ear.’’

Palliser soon started for Independence, Mo., the
great outfitting point for the fur trade in those days,
when the plains and mountains were free. At Inde-
pendence he met Mr. Kipp — James Kipp — one of the
best-known traders of early days and the builder of
some of the first trading posts far up the river. For
twenty years before this, it had been James Kipp’s
practice to go down the river in the summer with the
fur company’s flotilla of mackinaw boats, and in the
autumn to ride north again to the mouth of Yellow-
stone River, a distance of something like fifteen hun-
dred miles. James Kipp is the bourgeois mentioned
by Catlin as his host among the Mandans when, in
1834, he was painting on the upper river.

The party that set out from Independence on the
2d of September numbered seventeen or eighteen,
of whom the greater number were French Creoles and

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Beyond the Old Frontier

Canadians to whom Palliser pays the wholly deserved
compliment that they were ‘'docile, patient, enduring
fellows with constitutions like iron, well practiced in
journeys of this kind and character/’ Their beds and
supplies were carried on pack-animals, and they trav-
elled for some days through a country very thinly
settled and occupied in part by the Mormons. “The
last spot where we saw white faces was the Council
Bluff's, the trading post and the residence of a Govern-
ment Agent, where we remained a day supplying our-
selves with coffee, sugar, and biscuit, salt pork, and
beans, as we did not expect for some time yet to reach
a good hunting country.”

The camps made after they had passed out of the
settled region, where they lived at farm-houses, showed
a method of life wholly new to Palliser, and one which
to many Americans is as unknown to-day as it was to
him. “A little before sunset, we unsaddled and un-
packed our horses, placing the packs and saddle of each
rider in a separate pile, at equal distances, so as to
form a circular enclosure about ten paces in diameter;
and after watering and ‘hobling’ the horses, i.e. at-
taching the fore and hind legs on one side together by
means of an iron chain, with a leathern strap around
the fetlock, to prevent their straying, we turned them
loose to graze; not till then considering ourselves at
liberty to attend to our own comforts. Our first busi-
ness was, then, to cut and gather wood, and to light a
fire in the centre of the circle, fetching some water in

The Solitary Hunter 283

the kettles, and putting the meat on to cook, and ma-
king our beds of saddle-cloths, blankets, and buffalo
robes: this done, we roasted our coffee berries, and hav-
ing wrapped them in a piece of deer or buffalo skin,
and pounded them in the stump of a tree with the back
of a hatchet, put them in our coffee pot and boiled
them; and the meat being cooked by the time this
process was over, and the coffee made, we fell to with
great appetite. After supper, we lighted our pipes,
and then each turned in when he felt inclined, and,
with his feet to the fire, slept as only travellers in the
prairie can sleep. Before day we were up again, un-
hobled and watered our horses, loaded the packs, and
were all in the saddle by sunrise.” The morning halt
for breakfast was made about eleven o’clock, the horses
were allowed to graze, and at one the train started
again, to travel until dark.

The country through which they were passing had
been thoroughly hunted by Indians, and the camp was
out of meat, and had no food except beans. However,
the fall migration of the wild fowl was on; at least the
lakes and streams were occupied by plenty of ducks.
Palliser set out with two of the hunters to try to kill
some of these, but found that neither of the men could
shoot on the wing. “It was amusing to see how as-
tounded they were at my knocking over a fine mallard,
that came wheeling over our heads; they insisted on
its being a chance shot, and would not be persuaded
to the contrary, until I brought down several succes-

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Beyond the Old Frontier

sively; and at last, with a most satisfactory right and
left, silenced their scepticism completely. They were
greatly delighted; ^ Mais comment diahle, monsieur,
faites-vous cela?' said one hardy old veteran to me. I
offered to instruct him, but could not get him to fire
rapidly enough, as he was afraid of wasting his ammuni-
tion, which was very expensive.’’

On this journey they saw the approach of a prairie
fire — a splendid and terrible sight — but succeeded in
cutting it off by back-firing. The old French voya-
geurs declare that the Indians were travelling about.
This experience suggested to Palliser a description
given him by a brother sportsman of a fire which he
had witnessed. ‘‘We had seen, during the latter part
of our day’s journey, a remarkable appearance in the
eastern horizon; and during supper observed a smell of
burning, and a few light cinders fell about the camp,
and presently we remarked that the luminous appear-
ance in the east had very much augmented. There
being a little hill in front of us, we could not see dis-
tinctly what caused it; but having consulted together,
we agreed that it proceeded from a prairie on fire, which,
however, was a long way off. About eight o’clock the
smell of burning and the glare having materially in-
creased, we walked up to the top of the hill, when a
spectacle presented itself to us the most grand that
can well be conceived. The whole horizon, from north
to south, was one wall of fire, blazing up in some places
to a great height, at others merely smouldering in the

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285

grass. It was, however, at least, eight miles off; but
the wind seemed to set in our direction, so we instantly
returned, and took measures to preserve the camp.
We were in a corner, as it were, on the bank of the
stream, with a good deal of brushwood running up on
our left, and the ground sloping up gradually from the
creek to the top of the hill. Our guides, on looking at
the fire, said that it would not harm us — ‘ Ce nest rien
— le vent change' In short, they would do nothing.
In about twenty minutes, however, it approached so
near that there was no time to be lost, and all hands
were immediately employed in burning a road across
the face of the hill, so as to stop the fire at that part.
A more picturesque scene could hardly be imagined.
The night was very dark, but as far as the eye could
reach, all across the horizon, about four miles in front
of us, was a broad, bright, lurid glare of fire, with a
thick canopy of smoke hanging over it, whose fantastic
wreaths, as they curled in the breeze, were tinged with
the red reflection of the flames. Even at that dis-
tance we could hear the crackling and rushing of the
fire, which, as it advanced, caused a strong wind, and
every now and then a brighter flame would shoot high
up into the black cloud of smoke over the top of the
hill, illuminating for an instant our tents and waggons
in the dark hollow, and giving a momentary glimpse of
the horses which were picketed on the side of the rise,
on the crest of which the figures of the men engaged in
lighting the opposition fire (which, as it became too

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Beyond the Old Frontier

extended, they beat down with blankets, only suffering
it to burn a space about twelve-feet broad, right across
the line of the advancing conflagration), stood out in
strong relief against the glowing wall of light beyond
them; and as they ran about, tossing their arms, and
waving the blankets and little torches of lighted grass,
they looked in the distance like demons rather than
men. We had no time to look at the picturesque, how-
ever, for every moment (owing to their previous obsti-
nacy in neglecting to take precaution in time) became
more pregnant with danger, and by the time they had
burned as much as would only about half cover the
camp, the fire was raging in the bottom at the other
side of the hill. I ran up for an instant to the top,
and shall never forget the scene. Although still half
a mile off, the fire seemed close to me, and the heat
and smoke were almost intolerable, while the dazzling
brightness of the flames made it painful to look at
them; they were in three lines nearly parallel, the first
of which was just below me, burning with a rushing
noise, and crackling as it caught the dry grass, that
gave an idea of total destruction which it is impossi-
ble to convey, and stretching away over hill and
dale for twelve or fourteen miles on each side of me,
lighting up the sides of the hills and the little groves of
wood far away. The two lines in the rear were not so
much connected, and seemed rather licking up any
little spots of grass which had escaped at first. Every
now and then a prairie hen would flirr past, flying in a

The Solitary Hunter

287

wild uncertain manner, as if fear had almost deprived
it of the use of its wings; while all the songsters of the
grove were wheeling about among the trees, uttering
the most expressive cries of alarm, and the melan-
choly hooting of several owls, and wailing yells of the
wolves, together with the shouts and cries of the men,
almost drowned occasionally by the roaring of the
flames, added to the savage grandeur of the scene, and
one could have fancied the end of all things was at
hand. On returning to the camp, I found all hands
cutting the lassoes and halters of the mules, some of
which galloped off instantly into the river, where they
remained standing till the hurricane of flame had
passed over; the others, seemingly trusting themselves
instinctively more to man than to their own energies
in such an emergency, followed us up the space which
we had burned, and remained quietly there, trembling
indeed, but without an effort to escape. By the time
the animals were collected in this spot, the fire was
blazing on the top of the hill, and we all rushed away
with blankets to arrest Its progress. If possible, at the
part which we had left unguarded; all our efforts would
have been in vain, however, and our tents and every-
thing else must have been consumed, but that, just at
that weak point, the grass suddenly became thin and
scanty, with much stony ground, and we had the sat-
isfaction of seeing the flames stopped there and turned
oft to the northward along the edge of the brushwood.
It was really terrific to be, as we were, trying to break

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Beyond the Old Frontier

it down in the very middle of the blaze (which, after
all, was so narrow that where the flames were not high,
you could jump across it); we were, indeed, nearly
suffocated by the smoke and heat. As soon as we per-
ceived the fire turned off, we returned to the camp
and horses, and all danger was over; but the sight of
the three lines of fire stretching up the rising grounds
behind the camp, just like the advance of a vast army,
was magnificent; and it was still more extraordinary
to watch the manner in which the fire passed itself on,
as it were, over the tops of the highest trees, to the
height of at least forty or fifty feet. The whole scene
lasted altogether about two hours, and nothing could
be conceived more awfully grand. The extraordinary
rushing and crackling sound of the flames was one of
the most terrific parts of it, and when one considers
that the grass is nowhere more than five or six feet
high, it is difficult to imagine how the flame blazes up
to such a vast height as it did. The contrast pre-
sented, two hours afterwards, was most striking. In-
stead of the brilliant glare of the fire, and lurid ap-
pearance of the sky, there reigned an impenetrable
darkness, earth and sky being alike shrouded in a
black gloom, which could almost be felt; not a star was
to be seen, and the air retained a suffocating, sulphure-
ous smell, as if Satan himself had passed over the earth.
We could not distinguish objects at ten paces’ dis-
tance, and were right glad when a fresh breeze came
gently breathing over the prairie, dissipating the

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289

murky vapors still hanging in the atmosphere; and a
fine starlit sky, with a sharpish frost, at length relieved
us from the close, choking feeling we had experienced
for hours before. This prairie fire had travelled at the
rate of five miles an hour, bringing with it a strong
gale of wind; for, otherwise, the night was quite calm,
both before and after it had passed over.’*

At Fort Vermilion the Kipp party found a camp of
Sioux who were dancing in triumph over the scalp of a
woman. With these Indians they at once established
friendly relations. The Sioux had a woman captive,
whom Palliser and Kipp purchased and set free. Here
some of their best horses were stolen, not perhaps by
the Indians of this camp, but by others.

Game was scarce and the white men were requested
by the Indians who were about to start out on their
autumn buffalo-hunt to travel with them, and not to
move on in advance lest they should frighten the
game, if any were about. The old-time moving of an
Indian camp, with its men marching at the head and
on the flanks and the women with their travois in the
column, is well described. Scouts had been sent on in
advance by the Indians to look for buffalo, and orders
were given that no one should pass far beyond the
camp.

Palliser went out on foot to try to kill some ducks
along a little stream, and while looking for the birds
was startled by the sound of a gun just behind and the
whistle of a bullet passing near his head. The shot

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Beyond the Old Frontier

was fired by an Indian not far from him. Palliser ran
to him and threatened to shoot him if he tried to re-
load his gun. Another Indian who came up acted as
mediator, and explained what had happened. Palliser
had not fully understood the order issued by the chiefs,
and the man who shot at him was no doubt a “soldier,”
trying to make the white man go into camp.

The next day the Indians turned off toward the
buffalo and the white men went on, and not very long
after reached Fort Pierre, the site of the present city
of Pierre, S. D. Not long after leaving Fort Pierre,
early in October, they came upon buffalo, which Pal-
liser is careful to note should be called bison, and on
the 27th of October reached Fort Union, then the chief
depot of the American Fur Company’s trade through
the upper Missouri.

BUFFALO-RUNNING

Buffalo were plenty and here Palliser had his first
run. His views on buffalo-hunting — that extinct sport
— are quite worth quoting:

“Buffalo-hunting is a noble sport, the animal being
swift enough to give a good horse enough to do to close
with him; wheeling round with such quickness as to
baffle both horse and rider for several turns before there
is any certainty of bringing him down. Added to
which, there is the danger of being charged by one old

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291

bull while in pursuit of another; this, however, they
will not often do, unless when blown by the awkward-
ness of a bad hunter, in chasing them too far, when
they turn and get desperate.

‘‘The first object in approaching a herd of buffalo
should be, to get as near as possible before charging
them; then, rush in with your horse at full speed, sin-
gle out one animal, and detach him from the herd,
which you will soon do, and after a turn or two be able
to get a broadside shot, when you should endeavour to
strike him behind the fore-shoulder. While reloading,
slacken your horse’s speed to a hand gallop. The
general method of loading is to empty the charge from
the horn slung round your neck into the palm of your
hand, whence you can more easily pour it down the
barrel; you then take a bullet wet out of your mouth,
and throw it down upon the powder; by which means
you avoid the necessity of using the ramrod, a most
inconvenient process when riding fast on horseback.
I found it from experience better to dispense with both
powderhorn, ramrod, and copper caps altogether, and
use a light self-priming flint gun, carrying the powder
loose in the skirt pockets of my shooting-coat, and
thereby having no further delay than to thrust my
hand in for it and empty it down the barrel of my
gun; accuracy in quantity at such close quarters being
of small importance. Taking the bullet from the
mouth is both the quickest and safest method of load-
ing; quicker than fumbling for it in your pocket, and

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Beyond the Old Frontier

safer, because its being wet causes it to stick for a
moment without rolling forward on depressing the
muzzle to take aim; and my brother sportsmen are
doubtless aware of the danger of leaving an empty
space in the barrel between the powder and the ball.
I would not, however, recommend any one to depend
too much upon the detention of the wet bullet, but to
fire immediately on lowering the muzzle. I ought
here to mention, that in running buffalo, you never
bring the gun to your shoulder in firing, but present it
across the pummel of the saddle, calculating the angle
with your eye and steadying yourself momentarily by
standing in the stirrups as you take aim. This is diffi-
cult to do at first, and requires considerable practice;
but the facility once acquired, the ease and unerring
steadiness with which you can shoot is most satisfac-
tory, and any one accustomed to this method con-
demns ever afterward the lifting of a gun to the
shoulder whilst riding at speed, as the most awkward
and unscientific bungling.

“We drew up our horses, and proceeded to skin and
cut up the animals, and were soon joined by the drays
despatched from the fort for the purpose of taking
home the meat. What we had killed that day was very
good and tolerably fat. I have before adverted to the
excellence of bison beef, and the superiority of its fat
over that of the domestic ox; but before leaving the
subject, I will state two instances in which I myself
saw this superiority fully established.

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293

“Old Mr. Kipp, at Christmas, thinking to give all
the employes and voyageurs of the Fur Company at
Fort Union a great treat, had for some time previously
been fattening up a very nice small-boned heifer cow,
which was killed in due time, in prime condition. All
who had been reckoning on the treat this would afford
them, sat down in high expectation of the ensuing feast;
but after eating a little while in silence, gradually
dropped off one by one to the bison meat, which was
also on the table, and were finally unanimous in con-
demning the beef, which they said was good enough,
but nothing remarkable, and the fat sickening. A
plate-full of it was also given, as ordinary buffalo
beef, to an Indian woman in another room at the fort,
on the same occasion: she pronounced it good food,
but, said she, ‘it is both coarse and insipid’; and the
fat, if she were to eat much of it, would make her
sick.

“I mention these circumstances, having been one of
the very few who have seen the comparative merits
of the two meats tested by Europeans, Americans, and
Indians at the same time, and heard the unanimous
verdict in favour of the wild bison.”

It is worth noting that Indians who are old enough to
have known buffalo all declare that the flesh of domestic
cattle tastes badly and has an evil smell. This, to be
sure, may mean no more than that the flesh and fat
have an unusual taste and smell, which is disagreeable,
because unusual. Probably, however, no one who has

294 Beyond the Old Frontier

habitually eaten buffalo meat but will acknowledge
that it is far more tender and delicate than the flesh
of domestic cattle.

During the winter hunting was continuous. In-
dians constantly came to the post to trade or to beg.
An interesting visitor was old Bill Williams, a famous
trapper of that day, who had long been believed dead.
He was one of a party attacked by Blackfeet, when
all except Williams had been killed.

This winter Palliser witnessed a fight between the
Sioux and the Assiniboines which seems to have re-
sulted in a draw, though one Sioux was killed. These
Sioux, by the way, were very troublesome and had shot
many of the milch cows, and, more serious than all, a
fine thoroughbred bull which belonged at the post.

“The loss of this handsome, noble animal was uni-
versally regretted in the fort, for besides his great
value as their only means of continuing the breed of
domestic cattle in that remote region, he proved most
useful in drawing home many a heavy load of meat,
and much of the wood for the fuel in the fort; as a
tribute to his memory, I must here record a single
combat of his with a bison, which, according to the
description of his keeper, ‘Black Joseph,' must have
been truly Homeric.

“About three months previous to my arrival at Fort
Union, and in the height of the buffalo breeding sea-
son, when their bulls are sometimes very fierce, Joe
was taking the Fort Union bull, with a cart, into a

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29s

point on the river above the fort, in order to draw
home a load of wood, which had been previously cut
and piled ready for transportation the day before,
when a very large old bison bull stood right in the cart
track, pawing up the earth, and roaring, ready to dis-
pute the passage with him. On a nearer approach, in-
stead of flying at the sight of the man that accompanied
the cart, the bison made a headlong charge. Joe had
barely time to remove his bull's head-stall and escape
up a tree, being utterly unable to assist his four-footed
friend, whom he left to his own resources. Bison and
bull, now in mortal combat, met midway with a shock
that made the earth tremble. Our previously docile
gentle animal suddenly became transformed into a
furious beast, springing from side to side, whirling
round as the buffalo attempted to take him in flank,
alternately upsetting and righting the cart again,
which he banged from side to side, and whirled about
as if it had been a band-box. Joe, safe out of harm’s
way, looked down from the tree at his champion’s
proceedings, at first deploring the apparent disadvan-
tage he laboured under, from being harnessed to a cart;
but when the fight had lasted long and furious, and it
was evident that both combatants had determined
that one or other of them must fall, his eyes were
opened to the value of the protection afforded by the
harness, and especially by the thick strong shafts of
the cart against the short horns of the bison, who,
although he bore him over and over again down on his

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Beyond the Old Frontier

haunches, could not wound him severely. On the
other hand, the long sharp horns of the brave Fort
Union bull began to tell on the furrowed sides of his
antagonist, until the final charge brought the bison,
with a furious bound, dead under our hero’s feet, whose
long fine-drawn horn was deep driven into his adver-
sary’s heart. With a cheer that made the woods ring
again, down clambered Joe, and while triumphantly
caressing, also carefully examined his chivalrous com-
panion, who, although bruised, blown, and covered
with foam, had escaped uninjured.

“It required all Joe’s nigger eloquence to persuade
the bull to leave the slain antagonist, over whom he
long stood watching, evidently expecting him to get up
again to renew the combat^ Joe all the time coaxing
him forward with, ‘Him dear good bull, him go home
now, and do no more work to-day,’ which prospect,
black Joe, in common with all his sable brethren, con-
sidered as the acme of sublunary felicity.”

During this winter the people at Fort Union were
attacked by an epidemic which laid up many of them.
Those who were not incapacitated by illness were,
therefore, obliged to hunt the harder to supply the post
with food, for in that country and at that time food
meant meat almost exclusively. Buffalo-running in
winter is often hard work, and when to the winter
weather are added the difficulties of deep snow, the
work becomes not only hard but dangerous. Some in-
cidents of a winter run are given in Palliser’s account

BISON AND BULL, NOW IN MORTAL COMBAT, MET MIDWAY WITH A SHOCK THAT

MADE THE EARTH TREMBLE ”

■m

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297

of his killing some meat four or five miles from the post.
He “had a splendid run, flooring a cow and wounding a
bull, which I left for the present, and then stretching
away at full speed, I pursued after another uncom-
monly fine fat cow. She gave me an awful chase,
turning and doubling incessantly. My little horse was
sorely at a disadvantage in the snow and began to show
symptoms of distress; but I could not manage to get a
broadside shot. At last making one more push, I got
pretty close behind her and raising myself in my stir-
rups fired down upon her. . . . She dropped at the re-
port, the bullet breaking her spine. My little horse,
unable to stop himself, rolled right over her, making a
complete somersault, and sending me, gun and all,
flying clean over both of them into a snowdrift. I
leaped up, ran back to my horse, which I caught with-
out much difficulty, and was glad to find no more hurt
than myself. My gun was filled with snow, of course,
but otherv\fise uninjured.’’

The friendly relations between the domestic cattle
and the buffalo caused Palliser much surprise, for he
was unaware that cattle and buffalo associate inti-
mately and sometimes interbreed.

Cases have been recorded where buffalo in their
stampede have carried off considerable numbers of cat-
tle, which became as wild as the buffalo with which
they associated. Another point new to Palliser, and
perhaps not well understood by naturalists at present,
is the fact that buffalo do not, as a rule, use their

298

Beyond the Old Frontier

hoofs to remove the snow from the ground, but push
the snow aside with the nose. Palliser says: “I was
still more astonished, on attentively observing this
friendly intercourse, to see our little calves apparently
preferring the companionship of the bison, particu-
larly that of the most colossal bulls, to that of their
own species. I took an opportunity one morning of
investigating the reason of this more closely, and avail-
ing myself of some broken ground, beyond which I
saw three of our poor little half-starved calves in com-
pany with two gigantic bulls, I crept up very carefully,
and lay under the brow of a hill, not fifty yards from
the nearest in order to observe them, and was not long
in discovering that the bison has the power of removing
the snow with his admirably-shaped shovel-nose so as
to obtain the grass underneath it. His little compan-
ions, unable to remove the frozen obstacle for them-
selves, were thankfully and fearlessly feeding in his
wake; the little heads of two of them visible every now
and then, contesting an exposed morsel under his very
beard. It was an interesting sight, and I crept softly
away again, so as not to disturb them.

‘‘Although the bison scrapes the snow with his nose,
I do not think he does so with his hoofs. I have fre-
quently seen the snow, where buffalo have been feed-
ing, stained with slight signs of blood, and after having
shot them, found the noses of both cow and bull sore
from the constant shovelling.’’

Buffalo-hunting was not without its excitement. On

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299

a certain day, for example, with an Indian, he killed
three bulls, one of which was shot four times, and
though seeming very weak did not fall, so that Palliser
determined to finish him.

“Walking up therefore to within thirty paces of
him, till I could actually see his eyes rolling, I fired
for the fourth time directly at the region of the heart,
as I thought, but to my utter amazement up went his
tail and down went his head, and with a speed that I
thought him little capable of, he was upon me in a
twinkling. I ran hard for it but he rapidly overhauled
me, and my situation was becoming anything but
pleasant. Thinking he might, like our own bulls,
shut the eyes in making a charge, I swerved suddenly
to one side to escape the shock, but, to my horror, I
failed in dodging him, for he bolted round quicker than
I did, and affording me barely time to protect my
stomach with the stock of my rifle, and to turn myself
sideways as I sustained the charge, in the hopes of
getting between his horns, he came plump upon me
with a shock like an earthquake. My rifle-stock was
shivered to pieces by one horn, my clothes torn by the
other; I flew into mid-air, scattering my prairie-hens
and rabbits, which had hitherto hung dangling by
leathern thongs from my belt, in all directions, till
landing at last, I fell unhurt in the snow, and almost
over me — fortunately not quite — rolled my infuriated
antagonist, and subsided in a snowdrift. I was luckily
not the least injured, the force of the blow having been

300

Beyond the Old Frontier

perfectly deadened by the enormous mass of fur, wool,
and hair, that clothed his shaggy head-piece.”

It was here that Palliser saw his first elk, which he
describes with great detail, and whose whistle in the
breeding season he declares to be the most beautiful
sound in all the animal creation; it is like the sound of
an enormous soft flute, uttered in a most coaxing tone.

In his hunting in the buffalo range, where, of course,
wolves were most abundant, Palliser, as might be sup-
posed, saw many wolves. He speaks with enthusi-
asm of the splendid white skins which he secured and
brought into the post. In several cases he observes
that wolves will eagerly devour the carcasses of
their own kind. He notes also that they sometimes
sleep so soundly that a man may walk up quite close
to them. This is something that happened occasion-
ally to all hunters. A hunting companion on one oc-
casion walked to within a few feet of a sleeping deer,
and commented in low tones to his companion on the
soundness of its slumbers.

During this winter at Fort Union Palliser purchased
a mongrel hauling, or travois, dog, sired by a white
wolf. The animal was particularly shy of white men,
and the old woman who sold it was obliged to catch
the dog twice and deliver it a second time. Palliser
wanted the dog to haul his travois on a journey he was
about to make with two voyageurs. His companions
had a pair of mules harnessed to a sleigh. He notes that
the mules, of course, must be fed on cottonwood bark.

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301

since the grass was now deeply covered with snow.
Palliser’s dog — Ishmah by name — like his master, had
to depend for food on the rifle. Shortly after starting,
Palliser and his two companions separated, he and the
dog to go up the river to Fort Mackenzie alone. He
travelled chiefly on the ice, using due care to avoid
the air-holes which are so frequent and so dangerous,
and never leaving the river for any great distance.
In the valley, shelter from the terrible storms of the
high prairie may always be found. Here the two com-
panions, who by this time had come thoroughly to
understand each other, found the journey comfortable
and very pleasant.

Ishmah’s friendly relation with the wolves was
sometimes very annoying, for often he ran off and
played with the young wolves, chasing and being
chased by them in turn. One afternoon, however,
Ishmah followed a wolf off on the prairie, dragging be-
hind him the travois loaded with everything that Pal-
liser then possessed. He followed, shouting, but the
dog had disappeared, and darkness soon obliged the
owner to turn back toward the river. He was a long
way from timber and all about him was a vast barren
waste of snow. The situation was anything but agree-
able. “I was about one hundred miles from any known
habitation, and nearly one hundred and fifty from my
destination, destitute of robe and blankets, with but
very little powder in my horn, and only two bullets
in my pouch. In short, I was in a pretty considerable

302

Beyond the Old Frontier

sort of a ‘fix,’ and had nothing for it but to make
tracks again with all speed for the timber. Fortu-
nately, I found my way back to the river without much
difficulty. It was a beautiful moonlight night, which
enabled me to collect some fallen wood, and having
lighted a fire, I seated myself beside it, and began to
consider the probabilities of my ever reaching a trading-
post alive, in the event of Ishmah not returning, and
how I should economise my ammunition and increase
my rate of travelling so as to effect this object. My
prospects were dismal enough, nor did I feel cheered
as the cold north breeze froze the perspiration which
had run down my forehead and face, and formed
icicles in my beard and whiskers, that jingled like
bells as I shook my head in dismissing from my mind
one project after another. At last resigning myself
to my fate I took out my pipe, determined to console
myself with a smoke, when, alas! on feeling for to-
bacco I found that was gone too. This was the cli-
max of my misfortune! I looked to the north star
and calculated by the position of the Plough that it
must have been about ten o’clock, the time at which
in England we have our knees under the mahogany,
surrounded by friends, discussing a bottle of the best,
and awaiting the summons to tea in the drawing-room.
I tried to see a faint similarity to the steam of the tea-
urn in the smoke from the snow-covered wood on my
dreary fire, and endeavoured to trace the forms of
sweet familiar faces in the embers, till I almost heard

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303

the rustling of fresh white crepe dresses round me,
when, hark! I did hear a rustle — it approaches nearer,
nearer, and I recognize the scraping of Ishmah’s trav-
ail on the snow; another moment and the panting
rascal was by my side! I never felt so relieved, and
laughed out loud from sheer joy, as I noticed the con-
sciousness he showed by his various cringing move-
ments of having behaved very badly. I was too well
pleased, however, at his reappearance to beat him,
particularly when I found nothing of his harness and
load either missing or injured in the slightest degree.
Even the portion of meat which I had secured from the
last deer I shot was untouched; so that I had nothing
to do but unpack the travail, make my bed, and cook
our supper.”

Palliser was greatly interested in the Indians that
he saw, and tried to understand something of their
ways of thought. He quotes a woman whom he called
to look through a telescope as saying: ‘‘The white man
know of this — here she moved her hand as if writing
— what happens very far olF, and with this — touching
the telescope — they see what is a long way off; now
have they invented anything by which they can hear
what is saying a long way ofF.^” This seems a more
or less reasonable Inquiry for the telephone of modern
times.

It was at White River Post that Palliser met an
Indian who later became one of his best friends and of
whom he had much to say. They hunted together and

304 Beyond the Old Frontier

on their first hunt killed a fine wolf which made them
several meals. Palliser was unwilling to eat this food
until he saw the relish with which his companion was
consuming it; but having made the first step and learn-
ing how toothsome it was, he hesitated no longer.

Hunting was constantly kept up during the winter,
for life depended on it. The weather was, as usual,
uncertain. Palliser, whose stock of copper caps had
run low, now went from the White River Post to
Larpenteur’s Post on Knife River with a party which
McKenzie was sending to Fort Union. He wished also
to visit Mr. Chardon, who was in command at the
Minitaree Fort. The party set out on a fine sunny
morning, and the heat was so great that one of them —
Frederick — who was stout, walked in his shirt-sleeves
puffing and blowing like a grampus.

At the Grand Detour — the Big Bend — they at-
tempted to make the cut-oflF, which is only fourteen
miles across, instead of following the river-bank for
about forty miles. Palliser tried to persuade his com-
panions to go the long way, showing them what a bad
position they would be in if caught in a snow-storm on
the prairie. However, the Indians believed that spring
had come, and they started and finally camped on a
little stream in the bed of which the snow was deeply
drifted.

‘‘Night was then coming on, and it began to rain
slightly; but we brightened up the fire again, little
knowing what was in store for us. Shortly after dark

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30s

the wind veered round to the north-east, accompanied
by snow, and at last it blew so hard as to oblige us to
put out the fire, especially on account of the gunpow-
der. Owing to our exposed situation, the wind merci-
lessly drove sparks, and even lighted brands, whirling
amongst us, turn which way we would, as the eddies
of wind drove furiously down the gullies against our
little encampment from all points of the compass.
Old Peekay and his wife collected every blanket and
skin they could muster. I seized my buffalo-robe and
blankets, called Ishmah to me, round whom I put my
arms, and hugging him close to my breast, shivered
through the night.

“Never shall I forget the horrible hours of suspense
I passed, expecting every instant the feeling of sleep to
overpower me, knowing the fatal consequences and
fearing an inability to resist it. I found my faithful
dog an invaluable friend, and really believe he was
the means of saving my life; for I seemed to feel the
caloric, as it issued from him, preserve my body from
turning into stone. Day at last dawned, and the wind
abated. We contrived to move to a less-exposed situ-
ation, where we lighted a roaring fire, and warmed
ourselves, then renewed our journey, reaching the op-
posite extremity of the Grand Detour by nightfall.

“Our supper that night was a very scanty one of
dried buffalo-meat, the last of the provision with which
Martin had supplied us. As for the unfortunate dogs
that accompanied the Indian Peekay and his squaw.

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Beyond the Old Frontier

they, poor wretches had not eaten a morsel for w(ieks;
and so awful an array of starved spectres never were
seen.”

Fortunately, the next day a bull was killed, and, won-
derfully enough, by an old Indian who that morning
had made a special prayer for food. The Indian was
old and infirm and had not fired a gun or killed game
for many years, but certainly in this case his prayer
was answered.

Palliser found Mr. Chardon very ill with a violent
attack of rheumatism, but extremely glad to receive
his guest. To this post a little later came Boucharville,
one of the most celebrated hunters and trappers of the
region. He was a French Canadian of the best type,
but had recently suffered great misfortunes, having
lost his horses through the severity of the winter, had
his traps stolen by Indians, barely escaped capture
by a war-party, and finally broken the sight of his rifle.

This man Palliser engaged to make a trip back to
Fort Union and thence on horseback up the Yellow-
stone River, intending at the close of the trip to
make bull-hide boats and transport their skins and
other effects back to Fort Union by water. For this
trip two additional men were hired, a stout Canadian
named Perey and a half-breed named Paquenode.
Palliser and Boucharville were to do the hunting; the
other two were to keep the camp, mind the horses, and
cook. In the meantime it was early in April and the
wild-fowl were beginning to arrive from the South.

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307

Palliser was keen to shoot some but had no shot. He
tried to manufacture it and finally did so by beating
out lead quite flat, cutting it into little bars, and again
cutting these into little cubes an eighth of an inch each
way. These were put in a small metal boiler in the
kitchen of the Fort with some smooth stones and
ashes and the boiler was revolved until the sharp cor-
ners were worn off* the cubes and they approached the
spherical. With this imperfect ammunition, good ex-
ecution was done, for of course the birds were extremely
abundant.

Ill

UP THE YELLOWSTONE RIVER

The ice broke up in the Missouri on the 17th of April,
and as the rising water forced up the ice, the explosion
was like distant thunder. For over thirty hours the
river rushed by in a furious torrent, carrying enormous
blocks of ice and roaring with a splendid sound as the
masses passed along, forcing everything before them.

Soon after this the party started for Fort Union.
They had very little food; some dried meat, a little
bag of biscuits, some coffee, and a quart bottle of
molasses to sweeten the coffee. During the march
they had opportunities to secure eggs from the nests
of the water-fowl, which were already laying, but even
with this help, on the fifth day they were reduced to
one biscuit each.

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Beyond the Old Frontier

“Early next morning we were passing along the side
of the river, very hungry, and making a short march
with the intention of hunting in the afternoon. Perey
carried a double-barrelled gun loaded with buck-shot,
and was walking near the pack-horse, Ishmah and his
travail following me, when we were astonished by the
sudden appearance of four antelopes climbing up the
bank close at hand. Owing to the steepness of the
bank, they did not come in sight of us until they had
reached the summit; the moment they did so they
wheeled round, but not before Perey fired and shot one,
which rolled down the bank into the water, and was
carried down the stream. Boucharville and I tugged
at our gun-covers; his he could not remove quickly
enough; I tore away the thong of mine — which had run
into a knot — with my teeth, and cocked my rifle. By
this time the other three antelopes were swimming
away in the broad stream; a little eddy in the rapid cur-
rent turned one of them broadside to me; I fired, hit-
ting the animal between wind and water, behind the
shoulder, — its head drooped, as, floating dead on the
surface of the water, it was carried down the stream
after its companion. Perey then performed a splen-
did feat; he ran down the side of the river far enough
to enable him to undress, — which he partly did in run-
ning,— ^jumped into the half-frozen water, along which
the blocks of ice were still at intervals coursing, stri-
king out boldly, laid his hand on the first carcass, then
with great exertion reached the second as it floated by,

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309

and, brought both into the bank: this was the more
fortunate, for half a minute more would have swept
them past the bend into the rapids beyond where the
scene occurred, and involved not only the loss of our
game, but a considerable risk to this brave fellow.

“The two antelopes afforded us quite a sufficiency
of food to last until our arrival at Fort Union, which
we reached early on the ninth day after our departure
from the Minitarees.”

At Fort Union food was scarce. The Indians camped
there were afraid to venture away from the post to
hunt, and immediately about the post white hunters
and Indians had been hunting until all the game had
been killed or driven away.

It did not take long to get together such supplies
as might be had for Palliser’s party — saddles, bridles,
ammunition, a couple of traps, some coffee, sugar, and
salt. It was necessary to cross the Missouri River
from north to south below the mouth of the Yellow-
stone. This done, a few miles would take them Into
a land of plenty, a region where game was abundant;
but the crossing would be difficult. The river was high
and the water still cold. While going down the river
they were fortunate enough to see deer and a little
later some elk, of which they secured two. Their
abundance now made them think of the starvation
back at Fort Union and, packing up their surplus meat,
they took it back to the fort to exchange for certain
much needed things. Among these things were fish-

310 Beyond the Old Frontier

hooks, awls, needles, and, most important of all, an
excellent four-oared skiff.

With the boat they succeeded in taking their horses
and party across the Missouri, and this done they
cached their precious skiff, burying it under the willows
on the south bank of the Yellowstone, close to its
junction with the Missouri.

Almost at once they found themselves in a country
of abundant game, and of this game the antelope
chiefly impressed the author. Of them he said : “These
march in line, sometimes for several miles together,
and, by imitating the movements of their leader, ex-
hibit the most striking effects, resembling military evo-
lutions: they simultaneously whirl round their white
breasts and red flanks, like the ‘Right face! — Left face!’
of a regiment on parade. Obedient to the motions of
their leader, when he stops, all stop: he stamps and
advances a step, the slight similar impulse waves all
down along the line; he then gives a right wheel, and
round go all their heads for one last look; finally, he
gives the right face about, and away ‘their ranks break
up like clouds before a Biscay gale.’ Stately wapiti
wandered on the plain, feeding not far from the wil-
lows, to whose friendly shelter in they crashed the
moment we presented ourselves to their view. And
as we approached steep frowning cliffs, overhanging
the river, I saw, for the first time, the wild sheep or
grosse come of the Rocky Mountains, balancing them-
selves, chamois-like, on the tops of most inaccessible

The Solitary Hunter

311

crags, whither they had rushed on first catching sight
of us/’ He repeats the ancient fable that the sheep
horns are so large and solid as to enable the animal to
safely fling himself on his head from considerable
heights.

He made a hunt for this new game and succeeded in
killing a great ram, while Boucharville got two lambs,
at this season much better food than the ram, for the
sheep in early spring, feeding largely on the wild leeks,
often tastes of this so strongly as to be almost uneatable.

In this land of plenty the party had a pleasant, easy
time and lived like fighting-cocks. Palliser’s clothing
by this time was falling to pieces, and he was obliged
to replace it by a coat made of an elk-skin, and trousers
of the hides of blacktail deer. While in camp here
Indians appeared on the other side of the river, but did
not discover the hunters. However, the half-breed
Paquenode, who appears to have been a natural cow-
ard, was frightened nearly to death and even tried
to seize the best horse in the party in order to run
away.

It was now late in May, and Palliser determined to
build some boats and return to Fort Union, and then,
taking up the skiff buried at the mouth of the Yellow-
stone, to row down to the Minitaree Fort about two
hundred and eighty miles. The skeletons of the boats
were made of willows, and these frames covered with
bull-hides. After the canoes were loaded, Palliser and
Boucharville occupied the first boat and towed the

312 Beyond the Old Frontier

second. He sent the other men back to Fort Union
with the horses.

Late one evening, as they were floating down the
river, they heard voices, and presently passed an In-
dian camp unobserved, and landing a little below it
quietly returned to the vicinity and found the party
to consist of two old men, an old woman, and ten
young people. After a little observation, the two white
men walked into the Crow camp, where the terrified
children ran away screaming. The fears of the In-
dians were soon allayed, for Boucharville could talk
Crow, and the relations between the two parties became
very cordial.

While at Fort Union Palliser sent his horses by an
Indian friend down to Fort Berthold, while he, with
two of his three men, raised the buried skiff and started
down the river. On their way an attack was threat-
ened by a war-party of Indians, while the men were
out looking for mountain sheep. Boucharville and
Palliser retreated to the camp and there took up a
position in the timber, and the Indians, after some
threatening demonstrations, made up their minds that
the position was too strong to be attacked and moved
off. Later, the travellers came upon two white trap-
pers whose arms had become useless and who were
then engaged in making bows and arrows with which
to kill game. These two, Gardepee and Dauphin,
were competent young men and made a valuable ad-
dition to the party. It was only the next day when

The Solitary Hunter

313

Palliser, while skinning a deer that he had killed, was
called by Dauphin, and as he ran toward him and
passed over a hill he saw a bear standing on his hind legs
looking about him, while Dauphin, hidden behind a
rock, was industriously snapping his useless pistol at
the bear. When he saw Palliser the bear ran, but was
brought back by Dauphin, who imitated the call of a
buffalo-calf, so that Palliser shot at him, but only hit
him in the flank.

“The bear clawed at the spot where the ball struck
him, and charged up to within twenty paces of us,
while I was reloading; whereupon Dauphin snapped his
pistol again at him without effect. Fortunately for
us. Bruin was only a two-year-old, and afraid to rush
in, though large enough to have smashed both of us,
defenceless as we were at the moment, and, before I
could get on my percussion cap, bolted over the brow
of the hill. I was still so thoroughly blown from my
run over the rocky ground, that I gave up my heavy
rifle to Dauphin, who threw down the useless pistol,
and started in chase, I following him. He soon got a
shot at the bear, who turned round, clawed at the
wound, gave a savage growl, and ran into one of those
little clumps which always mark a watercourse in the
hilly country. I took the rifle again, loaded, and pur-
sued the enemy right into the clump, in spite of the
remonstrances of Dauphin, and, getting a sight of him
first, gave him a finishing shot between eye and ear.
Although he was but a young bear, only in his third

314 Beyond the Old Frontier

year, it was with great difficulty that we could drag
him out; he measured five feet four inches from rump
to the muzzle, and his claws were three inches and
three-quarters long. Had he been fully grown, and
possessed of that amount of courage and ferocity with
which the old grisly bears, both male and female, are
endowed, it would certainly have fared badly with us
that day. However, we skinned our prize with great
satisfaction; and I was exceedingly pleased with the
pluck and daring of my companion, who had been twice
charged by the bear, and whose pistol had twice
snapped.”

A day or two later Palliser and Dauphin had a fine
buffalo-chase which led them a long way. They
started in pursuit of a new-born buffalo-calf, and this is
what happened:

“The cow, of course, went off, and at a tolerable
pace, followed by the calf, at an astonishing rate for
so young a beast. Dauphin wanted to shoot the
mother, in order not only to shorten the race, but to
increase our chance of rearing the calf, by cutting off
the cow’s udder when dead; but that, of course, I would
not allow, and ended the discussion by knocking up the
muzzle of the rifle which he was using with the barrel
of my gun. Then bidding him follow my example, I
threw down my gun to lighten myself, calling on
Boucharville to take care of the two; and drawing our
belts a hole tighter, we dashed off again up hill and
down dale, till at last we stretched away right out

The Solitary Hunter

31S

along the prairie for five or six miles. By-and-by the
little calf began to shows symptoms of failing, and the
cow, allowing her instinct of self-preservation to over-
come her maternal attachment, made the best of her
way off, and crossing some inequalities in the ground,
was lost to the sight of her offspring. The little fellow
then stopped; whereupon Dauphin, who possessed a
wonderful facility for imitating the calls of animals,
immediately began to grunt like a buffalo-cow, and
to our great amusement the little beast turned about,
cocked up his tail, and came galloping back to us. We
then turned about, and to our great delight it frisked
round us all the way into the camp. I was most anx-
ious to get it to the fort as early as possible, for I knew
that if I could do so in time, I might by chance be able
to rear it on pounded Indian corn and lukewarm water.’’

The next day another calf was captured out of a
herd which was crossing the river, and now Palliser
had a pair which he hoped he might succeed in getting
to Europe — as later he did. For the first day or two of
their captivity these little calves were fed on strong
broth, but there were domestic cows at the fort and
these reared the calves.

Shortly after Palliser’s arrival at the fort, Mr. Char-
don died, having first requested Palliser to write his
will. Boucharville, when sounded on the question of
making another hunt, declared that he would go wher-
ever Palliser wished to; and the next day they took
the horses across the river with the skiff, intending

3i6 Beyond the Old Frontier

to hunt up the Little Missouri River and to look for
grizzly bears in the Turtle Mountains. On the fourth
day of their journey from Fort Berthold they reached
the Turtle Mountains. Here they found a war lodge,
built by a party of Minitarees the year before, and
took possession of it. Boucharville, an experienced
man, did not like to remain in this debatable land,
which was on the border of the Sioux and Minitaree
territory, and began at once to figure on when they
could get away.

Here bear, antelope, elk, and sheep were extremely
abundant and food was always plentiful. One day
while Palliser was beginning to skin an elk, just killed,
Boucharville, who was about to clean his gun, was
charged by a grizzly, and escaped her by dashing into
a clump of rose-bushes. The bear, which had cubs with
her, charged after Palliser, who was running toward
his horse, which he feared would be lost if it smelt the
bear. When he reached the horse he stopped and
faced the bear, which also stopped and stood up, and
then turned and ran. Palliser shot at the bear, but
hit her too far back. She stopped to bite at her wound
and gave him time to load again. Just as he was put-
ting a copper cap on the nipple the bear rose on her
hind legs, and he sent a bullet through her heart.
Palliser was very lucky in that his horse did not pull
back or shy, and that there was nothing to disturb his
aim. When the horse was brought to the bear and the
skin put upon him, he paid no attention and showed

"‘just as he was putting a copper cap on the nipple the bear rose on her

HIND LEGS ”

The Solitary Hunter

317

no signs of fear, a very unusual thing, for horses are
commonly very much afraid even of bear-skins.

After they reached camp Dauphin started out to
capture one of the young bears, but as Palliser thought
the chances of finding them were very slight he did not
go with him, but afterward regretted this. Dauphin
killed one of the little bears and tried to take the other
alive, but it fought fiercely, tearing his clothes and cut-
ting him with its claws. Dauphin had armed himself
with a stout club, but, even so, had done no more than
make a draw of the battle. They now started back
toward the Little Missouri and on the way saw a bear,
which, to Palliser’s very great disgust, was lost by the
eagerness of Dauphin.

At the Little Missouri Palliser went duck-shooting
with his smooth-bore gun, but coming on the old car-
cass of a bull found all about it large bear tracks, some
of which looked very fresh. He drew his charges of
shot and rammed down a couple of balls, and followed
the tracks from the prairie until at last he discovered
a large bear walking slowly along. ‘T approached as
near as I could without his perceiving me, and, lying
down, tried Dauphin’s plan of imitating the lowing of
a buffalo-calf. On hearing the sounds, he rose up, dis-
playing such gigantic proportions as almost made my
heart fail me; I croaked again, when, perceiving me,
he came cantering slowly up. I felt that I was in for
it, and that escape was impossible, even had I declined
the combat; so cocking both barrels of my Trulock, I

3i8 Beyond the Old Frontier

remained kneeling until he approached very near, when
I suddenly stood up, upon which the bear, with an
indolent roaring grunt, raised himself once more upon
his hind-legs, and just at the moment when he was bal-
ancing himself previously to springing on me, I fired,
aiming close under his chin: the ball passing through
his throat, broke the vertebrae of the neck, and down he
tumbled, floundering like a great fish out of water, till
at length he reluctantly expired. I drew a long breath
as I uncocked my left barrel, feeling right glad at
the successful issue of the combat. I walked round
and round my huge prize, surveying his proportions
with great delight; but as it came on to rain, I was
obliged to lose no time in skinning him. I got soaked
through before I succeeded in removing his tremen-
dous hide, and then found it too heavy for me to take
away; so I was obliged to return to camp without the
trophy of my conquest. It was dark when I arrived.
Boucharville and Dauphin had built a most comfort-
able little hut of logs and bark, and having laid down
the skins and spread our beds inside, with the saddles at
our heads for pillows, and a good roaring fire outside
at our feet, we fell heartily to our supper of elk meat
and coffee.

“At daybreak next morning I repaired on horseback
to the scene of my conflict with the bear, and found, to
my great delight, on my arrival at the spot, that neither
the skin nor the carcass of the bear had been touched
by the wolves. This fact confirmed to me the testi-

The Solitary Hunter

319

mony of the hunters and trappers of these parts, as
to the great awe in which the grisly bear is held by the
wolves and lesser animals of prey. If a bear kills an
animal, or finds a dead carcass on the prairie, he appro-
priates it; and though many a hungry prowler passing
by may look wistfully at the choice morsel, it is like
the eastern monarch’s share,/ taboo’; and even when the
mountain monarch is absent, the print of his paw is a
seal sufficient for its security. It cost me considerable
exertion to place the reeking hide on my saddle; but
I succeeded at last, and climbing on the top of it, lighted
my pipe and rode back into camp. Riding along, to-
wards noon we descried another bear, a lean, hungry-
looking monster, prowling about searching for pommes
blanches y and, to judge from his appearance, likely to
afford us a pretty severe fight. In approaching him,
we did not take any precaution to avoid giving him our
wind, concluding, from my former experience, that he
would not decline the combat; but in this instance I
warS mistaken, for rushing away down a ravine, he was
soon lost to our view. This result, although it disap-
pointed me at the time, yet gave me a further insight
into the disposition and habits of the animal, and agreed
with the accounts I had heard from many hunters and
trappers with whom I had previously conversed on the
subject; namely, that a grisly bear will, in most in-
stances, run away from a man on getting his wind,
unless previously wounded, or under such circum-
stances as to make him think that he cannot escape.

320

Beyond the Old Frontier

Old Mr. Kipp, of Fort Union, told me that once, when
on one of his numerous journeys from the States, he
was in the Indian country, and had gone out of camp
with his double-barrelled gun to look for ducks; he
was seen from a distance by a grisly bear, who came
cantering towards him. The day was fine, and the
old gentleman did not know which way the wind blew,
but had sufficient presence of mind to pluck off some
of the woolly material of which his blue blanket capote
was composed, and throw it into the air; and marking
the direction of the current ran a little distance round,
till he got full in the line of it, and then stood bolt
upright facing Bruin, who rose on his hind-legs for a
moment, surveying the tough old man, and then shuffled
off, shaking his head as if he considered him meat
rather too savoury for his palate.”

There were other adventures with grizzly bears and
Palliser recounts a story told by Boucharville about a
bear which sprang upon the leading bull of a herd of
buffalo and killed it. Other accounts have been given
of such battles where the bull killed the bear.

The time for Palliser’s return was now at hand, and
loading his skins into boats made of buffalo-hide he
floated down the river to the Minitaree post, where
James Dawson the old fur trader was now in charge.
A little later, boarding the Fur Company’s steamer
“Martha,” he took his way with all his trophies down
the river and at last reached St. Louis, and his prairie
hunt was over.

The Solitary Hunter

321

The publication of his book, The Solitary Hunter y had
unexpected results. Some time after its appearance,
the British Colonial Office chose Palliser to command
an expedition to explore British North America and
to topographically determine the boundary line be-
tween the British possessions and the United States,
from Lake Superior west to the Cascade Range. This
expedition was in the field for three years or more.
Papers reporting its progress were published by Parlia-
ment in 1859, and finally, about 1863, the British Gov-
ernment published Palliser’s detailed journal, contain-
ing reports on the geography, agricultural resources,
and commercial possibilities of far western America.
Later Palliser was a magistrate for County Waterford
and, for a time, served as high sheriff of that county.

THE COUNCIL AT FORT BENTON

WILLIAM T. HAMILTON, who died in 1908,
was perhaps the very last survivor of that
old-time race of trappers whose courage,
skill, and endurance led to the discovery, exploration,
and settlement of that vast territory which we now call
the Empire of the West. He left St. Louis in 1842
with a company of free trappers led by Bill Williams
— famous in those days — and for many years thereafter
led the wild, adventurous, and independent life of the
mountain man. With the coming of the railroads and
the settlement of the country that life ended, but in
1907, at the age of eighty-five, he still lived among
the mountains of Montana, and still made his annual
trapping trips, keeping up the habits that he had prac-
tised for sixty-five years.

“Uncle” Bill Hamilton, as he was long and affec-
tionately known, was one of Montana’s first citizens,
and the residents of that State were proud of his long
experience, his wide knowledge of the life of the early
days, and his extraordinary skill as a sign talker. A
good mountain man is, of course, a keen observer, but
Hamilton possessed also a retentive memory which
enabled him in his later years to make valuable contri-

325

326

Beyond the Old Frontier

butions to the history of the early West, which have
been recorded in the proceedings of the Montana His-
torical Society, in his book My Sixty Years on the
PlainSy published in 1905, and in the present account,
which was published in Forest and Stream in the spring
of 1907.

It was in the year 1855 that Governor I. I. Stephens,
called by the Indians “The Short Man,” made, at the
mouth of the Judith River, the first treaty with the
Indians of northern Montana. The object of this
treaty was to bring about a general peace among the
different tribes, which had long been at war with one
another. Like many efforts of this kind, the treaty
had no lasting effect.

This story deals with another attempt to put an end
to intertribal wars made ten years later, in 1865, by
General Francis Meagher and other commissioners.
William T. Hamilton was sent out to try to induce the
various tribes to come into Fort Benton and attend
this council. Some of the tribes were brought in and
a treaty was made, but it did not last long. The ac-
count which follows is crowded with the lore of the
plains — information as to the way in which in old times
people travelled through a hostile country. Those
who read it with attention, will learn much about
the ways of Indians and the ways of those who fought
Indians.

This is Bill Hamilton's story of the Council at Fort
Benton:

The Council at Fort Benton

327

The Territory of Montana was organized in 1864.
Green Clay Smith was appointed its first governor,
and General Francis Meagher became acting governor
with supervision over all Indians.

From 1863 to 1865 a chronic state of warfare existed
between all the Indian tribes in the Territory. In the
course of this warfare, miners and freighters had sus-
tained serious losses in stock, and many miners and
cattle-herders had been killed by the Indians. There
was no protection for life and property. At the mouth
of the Judith River, fifty miles east of Benton, was sta-
tioned one company of soldiers, but they were infantry
and could render no protection against mounted In-
dians.

In 1864 I sold my place at Missoula, and moved to
Benton — the head of navigation for the Missouri
River steam-boats, which carried all the supplies of
every description needed by the rapidly increasing
population, which was rushing into the Territory at-
tracted by fabulous reports which were constantly being
circulated of the discovery of rich placer and quartz
mines.

When I arrived at Benton it was almost impossible
to get anything to eat, and I determined that I would
start a hotel. I built a log house, hired a cook, and a
negro for a waiter, gave fifty dollars for an old stove,
bought and borrowed all the cups, knives, forks, and
tin plates that I could get from the Fur Company em-
ployees, and opened my hotel at one dollar per meal.

328

Beyond the Old Frontier

I bought some beef steers and slaughtered one on the
river bank. Two whiskey barrels on end, with three
slabs on them, set up by the hotel, formed the counter
of a butcher shop, the first one opened in Chouteau
County, Montana Territory. I sold beef at twenty
cents and twenty-five cents per pound, disposing of
from one to five beeves daily to boats and freighters.
Presently I was obliged to hire a butcher and a herder.

In the spring of 1865 the governor appointed me
sheriff of Chouteau County, which was about as large as
the State of New York. I was also appointed deputy
United States marshal. At this time the population
was a mixed and motley combination. There were
some trappers and free traders, good men; but the re-
mainder were Fur Company employees, in all about
forty-five men. There were some half-breeds, but none
of them could be trusted except one, Joe Kipp. The
Northwest Fur Company had bought out the old Fur
Company and had put I. G. Baker in charge. Carroll
and Steele, former clerks of the old company, had
opened a store in Benton, and T. C. Power afterward
opened one.

Through the Territorial delegate, the United States
Government was asked to protect the inhabitants
of the Territory against Indians, and the following
occurrences were a part of the effort to secure such
protection. A commission of three persons was ap-
pointed to consider this subject. It consisted of Acting
Governor Meagher, Judge Munson, and E. W. Car-

The Council at Fore Benton

329

penter. They arrived at Benton early in September,
and after holding a council determined that the Pie-
gans, Bloods, Blackfeet, Gros Ventres, and Crow In-
dians must be brought into Benton and there induced
to make a permanent and lasting peace. Runners were
sent out inviting the Blackfeet tribes to come in, but
no one could be found who would undertake to hunt
up and bring in the Crows and Gros Ventres.

At this season the country between the Missouri
and Yellowstone Rivers was usually overrun by war
parties of Sioux, Cheyennes, Arapahoes, and Blackfeet,
making travel exceedingly dangerous for any one, even
for an experienced prairie man.

While they were trying to find a man to make this
trip, some one suggested to the commissioners that I
was accustomed to travelling anywhere, and they might
get me. They sent, asking me to call on them at the
agency, which was then at Benton, and when I came,
the governor said: ‘‘Sheriff, we want a man to go and
get the Crow and Gros Ventres Indians to come to
Benton and meet us in council. Will you go and get
them for us.^ We are informed that you can and do
travel anywhere on the plains.’’

“Yes, I do,” I answered, “if I have special business
of my own to attend to.”

The governor said: “The government is anxious to
bring about a general peace between these warring
tribes, and also to put an end to hostilities against the
white people. In a few days a steamboat load of goods

330

Beyond the Old Frontier

will arrive, to be given as presents to all Indians who
meet us in council. We want you to go and bring in
these tribes.”

‘"But,” I said to him, “how can I go? I have to
look after my eating house, the butcher shop, the du-
ties of sheriff, and of marshal. I have two prisoners on
hand and no jail in which to confine them.”

But they kept on talking and persuading until I
saw that, as the Western phrase has it, they were going
to get me into a jack pot. To cut it short, they pre-
vailed on me to undertake the mission to bring in the
two tribes.

I appointed a deputy to look after my business, and
informed the commissioners that I must have a certain
Piegan Indian as companion, and asked them to send
a runner to Little Dog, the chief, with a paper, asking
him to send Eagle Eye to Benton as soon as possible.
In two days Eagle Eye was there. I had christened
him Jack. I had once saved his life. He was a cool
and brave man, and would die for me if called on to
do so. He had been with me on two former trips.

I was at the agency when Jack arrived, and when I
told him what was wanted of him, he gave a warwhoop
that startled the commissioners. I owned two of the
fastest horses in the country, and got two good horses
for Jack. I selected one pack-horse, a fast one which
would follow like a dog. I took some tobacco and
some food with which to feast the Indians, calculating
to put about seventy-five pounds on the pack-horse.

The Council at Fort Benton

331

Brief digression may be interesting, and perhaps use-
ful. I had a pair of Spanish panniers made of canvas
or leather fastened together and hung over the pack-
saddle. At the bottom of the ofF-side pannier was a
four-inch strap ending in a buckle. On the nigh-side
pannier a strap was fastened at the bottom, and these
straps were buckled together under the horse’s belly.
This held both panniers down close to the horse’s body.
The panniers can be made of any size, according to the
amount one wishes to pack. Mine would carry one
hundred pounds of assorted goods. In case of emer-
gency, the animal being saddled, you can place the pan-
niers on the saddle, cinch, mount, and be off in twenty
seconds.

On my best horse I kept day and night an Indian
pad-saddle as a substitute for a riding-saddle. Its
weight was ten pounds; the horse wore a hackamore for
a bridle, and the reins were tied to the horse’s mane.
This was a useful precaution in case of being surprised
or jumped by Indians and not having time to saddle.
Such an occurrence may take place notwithstanding all
your alertness. My other horse I rode with a Cali-
fornia saddle. Jack was similarly fitted out, except that
he had two Indian pads. I had bought from Judge E.
R. Munson the first Henry rifle that ever came into the
Territory, paying him one hundred and six dollars in
gold-dust. I had two .45 calibre Colt’s revolvers.
Jack had a Sharp’s rifle, using paper caps that I had
given to him some time before. I got him two .45

332

Beyond the Old Frontier

calibre Remington revolvers. He had also his bow and
arrows.

On the second day after Jack’s arrival we packed
up at the agency, a number of persons being present.
The commissioners could not understand why we were
so heavily armed, since we were going on a peaceful
message for the government. Their questions and
manifest ignorance of Indians brought a smile to the
faces of many of those present, as if a war party would
care what business we were engaged in, or, if they did
care, would stop to ask. After a while we shook hands
with our friends and started. Many of them said,
“Look out. Bill, this is likely to be your last trip,” but
I felt that, being armed as we were, no small party
would get the “age” on us.

Jack had told me that a Piegan war party which had
returned a few days before had informed him that the
Crows had been camped at Medicine Springs between
the Moccasin Mountains, that being about ninety miles
from Benton as the crow flies, but had moved their
village some days before. He also told me there were
three Blackfeet war parties out after Crows and Gros
Ventres. We should have to look out for them. With
this information as to where to pick up the trail, it
would be easy for us to locate the Crow village, unless
we met hostile war parties. For about half the dis-
tance to the Medicine Springs the country is very
broken.

We forded the Missouri River and struck across a

The Council at Fort Benton

333

rolling country to Arrow Creek, thirty miles from Ben-
ton, and reached the creek about sixteen miles east of
Rattling Buttes. These buttes, at the east end of the
Highwood Mountains, were in a dangerous country.
It was a famous resort for war parties, and game of
all kinds was abundant. Here we stood guard turn
about. Because you see no Indians nor signs of any,
it does not follow that none are in the neighborhood.
In a hostile or semi-hostile country never trust to ap-
pearances, but be as much on the alert as if you knew
the enemy was in close proximity. Have everything
ready for action either to defend your position or to
retreat.

The next morning before daylight we built a fire out
of dry willows and made coffee. Our bill of fare was
pemican and crackers. We had discovered a few
buffalo feeding over a ridge near camp, and I asked
Jack to try to get one with an arrow. It was too dan-
gerous to use a gun to kill this game. If any Indians
were within hearing, the report would have brought
them to us in force, and might have caused us annoy-
ance. Many a party has come to grief from the lack
of such knowledge. Jack went off, and in a short time
returned with the tongue, the hump, and one depouilUy
which we used as a substitute for bread. By this time
I had the stock ready to start.

After viewing the surrounding country from a high
knoll and observing no signs of danger, we started.
We had to pass over a broken country between Arrow

334

Beyond the Old Frontier

Creek and Wolf Creek, a distance of some eighteen
miles. As we passed over a high ridge far over to our
right, perhaps seven miles, we discovered about one
hundred buffalo on a stampede. We left the ridge and
approached a hill that had some trees upon it, and from
this point looked over the country in order to learn, if
possible, what had caused the buffalo to “raise,” for
buffalo seldom stampede unless they are frightened by
somebody in the vicinity. We discovered nothing, and
at length went on to Wolf Creek, where, on the south
side of the stream, we came across foot-tracks where
seven men had been walking. Jack declared that they
were Blackfeet. They had passed along that morning.
Evidently they had tried to find the Crow village, but
had missed it. I told Jack that this war party would
go to Deep Creek, and would run off some miners’
horses, and would also take in a miner if the opportu-
nity offered. Afterward we learned that some war
party about this time did kill a miner and run off a
number of horses.

We passed on, travelling in draws and hollows as
much as possible, until we reached Willow Creek.
The antelope and a few buffalo were feeding quietly;
a sure sign that no Indians were about, and that there
had been none before our arrival. The grass was good,
and we camped and cooked our tongue, enjoying a
feast fit for the gods of old, as mountain men have it.

We did not travel fast or far, but kept our horses in
prime condition, so that, if in case of any emergency

The Council at Fort Benton

33S

we were forced to make fast time, we could get away
and keep from being made bald-headed.

We were not disturbed during the night, and the
next morning were off at daylight. The game still fed
about us undisturbed. We crossed Plum Creek (Judith
River) and discovered several pony tracks some days
old. We concluded that the riders were Crows.

At length we got to the Medicine Springs between
the Moccasin Mountains. The Crow village had been
there, but had gone. We followed their trail until
dark, and camped at the east end of the Judith Moun-
tains. The next morning Jack went to the top of a
high butte, called Black Butte, and swept the surround-
ing prairie with a powerful field-glass, but discovered no
sign of village smokes. Now began the dangerous part
of our trip. A comparatively open country lay before
us. To follow the lodge-pole trail was dangerous, yet
that was our only means of finding the Crow village.
All Indian war parties are likely to follow the village
trail of those they are after. Jack said that there were
two more Blackfeet war parties out besides the one
that had gone up Wolf Creek, but these parties we did
not fear, because they were on foot. The result might
be different if we came in contact with either Sioux,
Cheyennes, or Arapahoes, who always go to war
mounted, and in force. We could easily stand off
eight or twelve Indians, but fifty or one hundred is a
different matter. Nevertheless, we had to take the
risk.

33^ Beyond the Old Frontier

Before starting we put everything in prime order.
If some persons had been present I think they would
have believed that we were preparing for a desperate
fight or a desperate retreat.

From our camp in the Judith Mountains the big
bend of the Musselshell River and the Bull Mountains
were fifty miles to the southeast. There we expected
to find the Crow village, unless prevented by hostile
war parties.

We travelled on at a five-mile gait, carefully watching
the trail for fresh tracks, either of men or horses. If
either should be discovered, we would have to act ac-
cording to circumstances. In front of us and on either
flank a few scattered buffalo and antelope were feeding
quietly.

About 2 p. M. we reached Flat Willow Creek, just
above where Box Elder Creek flows into it. Jack
mounted his best horse and made a circle three-quar-
ters of a mile in diameter, to see if he could discover
any Indian signs. I went to the crest of a high ridge,
and with my glasses thoroughly swept the surrounding
country without seeing any sign of a village smoke,
then returned to where I had left the horses. When
Jack returned I could see by his look that he had dis-
covered something that troubled him. When I asked
him what he had found he pointed up the creek and
said: ‘‘South of that butte are the pony tracks of a
mounted party of twenty-five going toward the south
end of the Bull Mountains.” If this party was hostile.

The Council at Fort Benton

337

it was the scouting party from some larger one, or it
might be a scouting party of Crows. We had no means
of knowing which. In any case, we had to do one thing
first of all, and that was to let our animals refresh them-
selves. One of us kept a good lookout, while the other
unsaddled one horse at a time, gave him a bath from
the stream, dried, and resaddled him; repeating this
until all the horses had had their bath. Such treat-
ment refreshes a horse more than anything that you
can do for him. All mountain men and many Indian
tribes understand the secret.

We were now in the most dangerous part of the coun-
try from the Pan Handle of Texas to the British line.
As an expert scout would say, ‘‘you must see all around
you; must have eyes in every part of your head.”

Dick, my best horse, was possessed of almost human
intelligence. I had trained him to come to me on a run
at a whistle, as almost any horse can be trained with a
little patience. I mounted Dick, leaving Jack with the
outfit. I went up the stream and picked up the trail
that he had described and followed it. As Jack had
said, it led toward the south end of Bull Mountains.
When I reached a ridge on which were some trees, a
plateau lay before me about one mile in extent and
ending in a broken country with scattering trees. I
could see that the trail led directly through a cluster
of pines. I got into a draw, or low place, which ran
down toward the Musselshell River and followed it
down, hoping or expecting to come across the trail of

338 Beyond the Old Frontier

the village. I followed the draw until within half a
mile of the river, and then rode back across the country
to Jack, without discovering anything.

Flat Willow Creek rises in the southeast end of the
Big Snowy Mountains. A large war-party could ren-
dezvous there and send out small scouting parties,
learn if any enemies were in the vicinity, return, and
report. To a war party all human beings are considered
enemies, except the members of their own party.

I asked Jack what he thought of this party, whose
trail he had found. The trail was not over a day old.
He replied it was either a scouting war party, or a
scouting party sent out by the Crow chief to find out
if any enemies were in the country. I had come to this
same conclusion, for in years past I had been out with
many such parties on different occasions. At all
events, if this party were enemies of the Crows, they
had not as yet struck either the village or the lodge-
pole trail, where the village had passed along. One
thing was noticeable in this section. It was in the
centre of the buffalo grazing ground at this season of
the year, and yet as far as a powerful glass could view
the surrounding country no buffalo were to be seen;
though there was abundant sign where they had been
not many days before. On the other hand, we could
discover no signs where a run had been made. If any-
body had been chasing the buffalo many carcasses
would be in evidence on every side. A few antelope
were to be seen, but they were shy and constantly on

The Council at Fort Benton

339

the watch, a sure sign that Indians had passed over
the country.

It would be very instructive to writers of Indian lore
if they could travel with an expert scout or with an
Indian war party and observe their actions — their cau-
tion and the care taken to avoid being seen by their
enemies and to circumvent them. They learn by the
actions of animals and by the flight of birds if enemies
are near, or of the people who have passed through,
or who may yet be hidden in, some section of the coun-
try. Jack was an expert in observations of this kind.
Not the flight of a bird escaped his eagle eye.

We remained here about two and a half hours. The
horses had eaten, and were refreshed and in prime con-
dition. When we started, we followed the trail and
crossed the creek, the trail leading down the creek on
the south side to the forks of the Musselshell River.
Here the Crow village had remained only one night.
They had made a long drive the day they got to this
camp. Jack said that the Crows were frightened and
were getting out of the country. It had been several
days since they were in this camp. As it was sundown
when we reached there, we camped, and the night
passed without our being disturbed. Breakfast was
over before daylight next morning. We expected that
the trail would follow up the river, but instead of that
it went southeast,, toward the divide of the Yellowstone
River, and when we reached the divide the trail turned
east. Jack was well acquainted with this section of

340

Beyond the Old Frontier

the country, having been here with Piegan war parties
many times. The east end of the Bull Mountains was
now some five miles south of us. Like the Big Snowies,
this is a great rendezvous for war parties. We followed
the trail, and about one o’clock in the day Jack turned
north half a mile to a spring of water of which he knew
at the head of the draw.

That night we remained there, keeping a careful
lookout. Nothing happened in the night, and by day-
light we were off again. Jack announced that he
thought that the Crows would be camped either on
upper or lower Porcupine Creek. As we went along
we saw a few buffalo and antelope feeding quietly, good
evidence that they had not been disturbed recently.
As Jack was the most expert trailer, I placed him in
the lead, directing him to keep his eye on the trail,
while I would keep a general lookout over the country
for any sign of danger.

We had travelled some five miles when, like a flash,
Jack dismounted. He followed on the trail on foot
for a short distance, and returning held up five fingers
and made the sign for the Blackfeet Indian. They had
come up from the Musselshell River. We looked at
the tracks carefully and found them fresh. The ground
was sandy in places, and where an Indian’s foot had
been, we discovered grains of sand still active, unsettled,
dropping down from the sides of the track, a sure sign
that they had been made recently. The same sign holds
good with horse tracks, and this sign can be read by

The Council at Fort Benton

341

any person with a quick eye. Let him put his foot on
some sand and then carefully and patiently watch how
long it takes for the sand to become inactive. All such
signs are carefully studied by mountaineers and In-
dians. It was plain enough to us. We went on, keep-
ing a sharp lookout. Some three-quarters of a mile
before us, we could see some timbered buttes, and the
trail led directly toward these trees. There was a pos-
sibility that those five Indians might be there, and we
put our tools in condition for instant use. We got
within three hundred yards of the buttes, wheeled to
the right, and putting our horses on a run, passed be-
tween two small hills and got beyond the first butte.
Nothing was discovered. When we reached the trail,
Jack dismounted, looked at it carefully, followed it a
short distance and returned, saying: “The Indians are
running here.” In front of us were other buttes with
trees on them, and we were now satisfied that the
Blackfeet had discovered us and were at this moment
planning a coup by which they could take us without
loss to themselves. To avoid being ambushed, we bore
to the left, keeping a long rifle shot from the timber
and a keen lookout. We had passed perhaps one
hundred and fifty yards beyond the first butte, when
two rifle shots were fired, the bullets going wide of the
mark. We wheeled to the left, rode behind a small
knoll and dismounted. Before we got there, three more
shots were fired, the bullets coming unpleasantly close,
but doing no harm.

342

Beyond the Old Frontier

We had no sooner dismounted than five Indians
charged us with a yell, for they made sure they had us.
Our outfit was a tempting bait for them. There were
five good horses, to say nothing of arms and other
property. If they had succeeded in taking us in, they
could have returned to their people as great warriors,
and would have been allowed to paint their spouses’
faces to their hearts’ content, and these would have
been envied by all the other women in the village, who
would not have been permitted to take part in the scalp
dance that would follow.

We let the Indians come within sixty yards, and then
we showed ourselves and ducked. The Indians, fool-
like, all fired; and, before they could reload or draw
bows and arrows, the Sharp and the Henry got to work,
and in less time than it takes to write this, five Black-
feet were on their way to their happy hunting-ground.
We got five Hudson’s Bay flintlock guns, bows and
arrows, and other plunder. Jack scalped two of the
Indians. I took a fancy war bonnet.

When we got back. Jack told the circumstances to
his friends in the Piegan camp. They blamed us for
killing these people, saying that as we were mounted
we should have run away. If we had run, the Black-
feet would have been on our trail like a wolf on the
trail of a wounded deer. They are hard to shake free
from or to throw off* the trail. Jack justified our acts,
saying that they fired upon and charged us. If they
had succeeded in getting us they would have scalped us

The Council at Fort Benton

343

both, they knowing him to be a Piegan. He added
that any Indian, whether Blackfoot, Blood, or Piegan
that shot at him and missed, must expect to be scalped.
He was asked if he were not afraid that some of the
friends of those we had put to sleep would revenge
themselves by putting him to sleep. I could not but
admire Jack when he answered them, his eyes sparkling
like fire: “No! if any one or more want to try that,
they all know when and where to find me.” As it was,
we would not be annoyed any more by this war party.

Jack told me that West Porcupine Creek took its
rise a short distance from here. Passing by this tim-
bered country, we came to one that was open, where a
few buffalo were in sight. Here the trail bore to the
right, going south, and followed a ridge. Jack said
that this ridge lay between East and West Porcupine
Creeks. We travelled some twelve miles and, when we
passed over a ridge, discovered the smoke of a village
on the lower or easternmost stream. It seemed to be
about eight miles distant. We moved toward it at a
lively gait, but when we were about a mile from the
village, we could discern a great commotion beyond or
south of it. Horsemen were galloping back and forth
in every direction as if in a sham battle. Jack said
that he heard shots and that he believed a fight
was on. We pushed ahead and got to the village, and
found, sure enough, that the Sioux had attacked it,
trying to run off the Crow ponies. They had been dis-
covered by the young Crow herders and the alarm was

344

Beyond the Old Frontier

given; and, since Indians always keep their best horses
close to the village, the warriors soon mounted and
rushed out to protect their herds. Nothing is more
disastrous to a camp than to lose its horses, and they
will fight as desperately for them as for their families.

Bull Goes Hunting, the chief, met us, and, as he did
so, put his hand over his mouth, signifying his aston-
ishment at seeing us. He was an old acquaintance, a
friend, and we went to his lodge. I left Jack and our
outfit in the care of the chief, while I mounted Dick
to go out and see the fight. Jack wished to go, but I
would not allow it, for he might do some desperate act,
such as to charge through the Sioux and might go under.
At this time, he was too valuable a man to lose. A few
young warriors went with me, and we soon got to the
battlefield. The first man we met was Spotted Horse,
a war chief. There were not over two hundred Sioux,
and fully three hundred Crows. We joined in the half
fight half runaway that was going on; though they had
been fighting some time, not over six on either side had
been placed hors de combat. A few were wounded, and
a few ponies put out of action. Neither of the oppos-
ing forces showed any generalship.

Without underrating the Indian, or overrating the
paleface, I may say that I have been with white men
on the plains where forty of them would have made
short work of either of these contending forces. By
some poetical writers, the Indian is credited with pos-
sessing Spartan bravery; but, with a few exceptions.

The Council at Fort Benton

34S

the reverse is true. There are but few mountain men
who cannot outgeneral an Indian.

After a while the Crow chiefs got together for a
council, and the result was more like the work of school-
boys than of warriors and chiefs. I sat in the council.
They spoke in their own tongue, half of which I under-
stood. They also made signs for every word spoken,
and each sign was as a, b, c, to me, as of course they
knew. They wished me to understand every word
that they spoke. They asked my opinion of the fight
and what they should do. I advised them to call off
their warriors, to form three equal bodies of men, and
to charge the Sioux on both flanks and at the front at
the same time. Then the fight would end, and the
Sioux would retreat. The Indians gave a grunt and
said nothing.

We all joined again in what one might call playful
fighting. I could see that the Sioux were growing dis-
couraged, but a desultory fighting continued for a short
time, when some fifty of the bravest Crow warriors
charged the right flank of the Sioux and emptied a few
saddles, but were checked by a stand made by a few
Sioux. This stand was made in order to give some of
their wounded an opportunity to leave the field. As
the Sioux were better mounted than the Crows, they
outstripped us on the retreat. We followed them about
a mile, forcing them to abandon some thirty tired
ponies, which the Crows captured. They scalped and
mutilated a few Sioux and collected all the plunder

346

Beyond the Old Frontier

on the field. All the wounded Sioux had retired before
the fight was over. Indians will remove the slain to
keep the enemies from scalping them. Whites do the
same.

We returned to the village. The chiefs now asked my
object in coming to their village. We were now sitting
in the lodge, where our things were, and I got out
the large envelope containing my letter. It was sealed
with wax, and had an eagle stamped on it as large as
a dollar. All this show had a moral effect on the In-
dians, and when they saw it they believed that I was a
messenger from the Great Father. After smoking the
medicine-pipe, as is customary before a council, I in-
terpreted the contents of the letter in condensed form,
the substance of which I have already given. I urged
the Crows to go to Benton, telling them that it would
be to their advantage to do so. They would receive
many presents, and besides would make peace with
their ancient enemies. They listened to me attentively,
and then gave reply in the negative, saying that their
ponies’ feet were getting tender and the animals thin
in flesh, that there were no buffalo between where we
were and Fort Benton, and that they must remain
where they were in order to secure meat for their fam-
ilies. All this was common sense from their point of
view, and left me no ground for argument. A Crow
party had recently been to Fort Union, and had been
informed by the traders there that the next moon some
white chiefs would be there to meet the Crows in

The Council at Fort Benton

347

council. This proved to be the fact, as we afterward
learned. The Crows could go to Fort Union by easy
stages and be among buffalo all the way, provided
their enemies did not run the game out of the country.

Jack gave the Crows the two scalps, the guns, and
other things that he had taken, and they gave him
a good mule and complimented him on being a great
warrior. We told them that another Blackfeet war
party was out, said to be looking for Crows, but that
we did not know where they were. We got the women
to cut some bunch-grass for our stock, in order that
they might be in good condition to make an early
start next morning. During the night Jack and I stood
guard turn about, and many young Crows did the
same. By daylight we had breakfasted. The chiefs
had assembled to see us off, and I asked them if they
knew where we might find the Gros Ventres. They
replied that we would find them either south or east
of, and near to, the Bear Paw Mountains. I told them
that we should try to get them to go to Benton if we
could do so. It was amusing to Jack and to me to
listen to the chiefs as they gave us advice about travel-
ling, just as if neither of us had had any experience.
Though it was not needed, we took their advice in
good part. We paid the women for the grass and
started.

When we left the village, the war-dance was in
progress in one part, and in another persons who had
lost relations were mutilating themselves, cutting off

348 Beyond the Old Frontier

their fingers or puncturing their legs and heads with
the point of a knife, making the blood flow freely, and,
as they did this, wailing and mourning the loss of
friends and relatives in the fight. Jack, whose horses
were good to lead, had saddled his mule. When we
started on the back track, we kept east of our old trail.
We apprehended little danger of meeting Sioux, Chey-
ennes, or Arapahoes, and we did not at all regard the
other Blackfeet war parties.

We made a bee-line for the mouth of the Musselshell
River, and got there at 9 A. M. next day, for Jack knew
every foot of the country. No Indian signs were vis-
ible. We collected some dry poles, bound them to-
gether with willow twigs, put all our property on the
raft, tied riatas to the end of it, and, mounting, drove
the stock across the river, keeping hold of the ends of
the ropes. The horses were good swimmers, and we
soon had the raft across. After the horses had been
rubbed down, saddled, and packed, we mounted and
were oflF. Not many minutes were occupied in accom-
plishing the crossing. We had no time to waste, for
the Indians might be upon us at any moment.

We now made a bee-line for the Little Rocky Moun-
tains, and when we came to a creek called Poshett,^
which rises on the south side of the Rockies, we began
to see carcasses of the buffalo in different places. The
meat had been taken off, and a careful inspection
showed that the buffalo had not been slain more than

^ Fourchette Creek, southeast of Little Rocky Mountains.

The Council at Fort Benton

349

five or six days. As we followed up the creek there
were more signs that a run had recently been made.

We had travelled fast that day, and when we reached
a cluster of box-elder trees, with good grass, we deter-
mined to remain there that night, unless some hos-
tiles should come and veto our intention. Before un-
packing we looked over the surrounding country for
signs of village smoke, and, discovering nothing, we
cooked, feasted, and kept our live-stock on the best of
grass, all the while keeping a good lookout.

We had breakfast before daylight next morning,
packed up, and were off. Following up the creek, we
struck a lodge-pole trail going east, between the two
Little Rockies. After it had passed the buttes, the
trail bore to the left, going north, and now we saw
fresh pony-tracks, a sure sign that the village was not
far off. Before us lay a plateau, and beyond that was
Beaver Creek, where we found the Gros Ventres vil-
lage. We had been discovered before we got near it,
being met outside the village by Famasi, the head
chief, an old acquaintance, who escorted us to his lodge.

After feasting and smoking, a council of all the chiefs
was held, and the object of our visit was stated to them.
They consulted among themselves for some time, the
result of the council being that they agreed to go to
Benton, and they asked me when they would be wanted
there. . I told them that the commissioners were now
waiting for them, and that they had better start the
village for Benton to-morrow, for it would take them

350

Beyond the Old Frontier

two and a half or three days to get there. It was sixty
miles as the crow flies to Benton, but I expected to be
there the following night. I told the chief that he
had better send two or three of his men with us, and he
agreed to do so.

I got six women to cut an abundance of grass for our
stock. They also built a small corral for us. Before
daylight the Indians turned out their ponies to graze,
and by daylight breakfast was over, the lodges were
down, and the women were getting everything ready
for packing. The ponies were now brought in. Bear
Wolf and Star Robe, two sub-chiefs, were selected to
accompany us. Here Jack traded his mule for eight
fine garnished robes. He wanted me to take seven of
them, but I selected four. He packed the robes on
one of his horses, and by seven o’clock we started, ta-
king the best and most direct route to Benton, passing on
the south side of the Bear Paw Mountains. We nooned
at Eagle Creek, about half-way. Small bands of buffalo
were seen, and we killed two fat ones. Selecting the
choicest parts, we feasted as no mortals ever feasted,
unless they have feasted on fat cow buiPalo.

Our camp was about one and a half miles from the
mountains. Star Robe, with my glass, was looking
the mountain over, and when he returned to camp he
said that seven Indians were coming down the stream
afoot. Jack said: “Blackfeet! I will stop them from
coming here!” He stripped down to his breech-clout,
mounted his best horse, and took the ridge. I had Dick

The Council at Fort Benton

351

ready for emergency, in case something should happen
to Jack. About half a mile up the stream Jack halted.
Some two hundred yards beyond him the seven
Indians came up on the ridge. I was watching every
move made. One of the Indians approached Jack.
After a short time he returned to the other Indian,
and they all went back to the mountain. Jack in-
formed us that he had told the Indians not to come
nigh us, as they would get shot, but to go to Benton,
where all the Indians were going to meet the white
chiefs in council.

Those Indians did go to Benton, and Jack, knowing
them, introduced me to them. They laughed at the
idea of the two of us being able to put all of them to
sleep; that nettled Jack, and he asked me to show them
what I could do with my “medicine gun,*’ as he called
my Henry rifle. At this place the Missouri River is
about two hundred and fifty yards wide, and on the
farther, or south, side near the water there stood a
stone about one foot in diameter. There were about
one hundred and fifty Indians present at the time.
I had practised at that rock more than once. I fired
seven shots at it in rapid succession, and each shot
would have hit an Indian. All the Indians put their
hands over their mouths — a sign of astonishment.
They wished to examine the rifle, but I refused to let
them touch it, let alone examine it. I was deter-
mined to keep them mystified about the Henry rifle
as long as I could. I was olFered four times the price

3S2

Beyond the Old Frontier

I paid for it — one hundred and six dollars, as already
stated.

When I reported to the commissioners, they were
somewhat disappointed that the Crows were not com-
ing to the council. I notified the commissioners that
the Gros Ventres would be here in two days, and that
two of their chiefs had come here with us. The com-
missioners requested me to take care of these chiefs
until the village arrived. I did so, charging the com-
missioners one dollar a meal for each Indian, the same
price that I charged the white men; but I ought to
have had two dollars, as one of these Indians could
get away with as much grub as two white men.

Some northern Indians were now beginning to come
in. Three days after our return the steamboat got
to Benton. Two days after the arrival of that boat
fully thirty-five hundred Indians were in camp on
Benton Bottom. The Piegans and the Bloods had
about three hundred and fifty lodges. Father-of-
all-Children,^ the Blackfeet chief, had fifty lodges,
but doubled up; that is to say, two families in one
lodge. The total number of Indians, big and little,
was about four thousand, and more parties were
constantly arriving, swelling the number. The other
Blackfeet Indians were too far away to attend the
council, and besides that, they had no right to be
there to receive presents from the United States, as

^ M^n h to' kos, literally, All are his children, but commonly spoken of
as Father of all children.

The Council at Fort Benton

353

they belonged to Canada. The people from the north
pitched their lodges mostly on the upper end of the
Bottom, but the Gros Ventres pitched theirs on the
lower end, some three hundred yards east of the old
fort. Formerly they had been friends with the Piegans
and the Bloods, but for the last four years they had
been at war, and there was the bitterest hatred between
them. Hence this wide separation of their lodges.
The council-chamber had been put in order. I'he
American flag was handsomely displayed, with other
decorations. The steamboat had been unloaded and
the goods stored. This was about the 20th of Septem-
ber, 1865.

As stated in the earlier part of this narrative, I had
been appointed deputy marshal, though I knew noth-
ing about the duties of the office. I asked General
Meagher what was expected of me as marshal, and he
replied: ‘‘Keep order, see that the chiefs are seated in
their allotted places, and that the interpreters are or-
dered to bring all chiefs and principal warriors to the
council.”

At the appointed time, all had come except the Gros
Ventres. Tunica, the interpreter, returned from the
camp, saying that the Gros Ventres chiefs were
afraid to come. The commissioners commanded me,
as sergeant-at-arms, to bring the chiefs and headmen
of the tribe to the council. I was armed at all points.
Dick was saddled, and I went to the village. I got six
of the leading chiefs, who wanted to bring their arms

354 Beyond the Old Frontier

with them, but I gave them to understand that this
would not be permitted by the white chiefs in council,
that no one could enter the council-chamber armed,
except myself. I gave them assurance that no harm
would come to them in council, and soon returned with
the chiefs, and placed them on the left of the Piegans.
They had been acquainted with each other before the
war, and had been good friends.

It was one P. M. when the clerk produced a roll of
closely written sheets of paper. It looked to me to be
two quires, the treaty which came from the Indian Com-
missioner at Washington. The clerk began reading it
by sections, and then waited to have it interpreted. The
Piegans, Bloods, and Blackfeet needed but one inter-
preter, but the Gros Ventres had to have their own in-
terpreter. It took fifteen to twenty minutes to get
through with one sentence, and even then neither in-
terpreter nor Indians understood one-tenth of its mean-
ing. I saw that it would take forty days to get through
if a change was not brought about. Little Dog, the
Piegan chief, told his interpreter to inform the commis-
sioners that the council would be adjourned until next
day in order to consult on the mode of procedure to
be used thereafter and the language to be employed in
carrying through a treaty with a wild, untamed lot of
Indians, ninety per cent of whom had no desire to mix
with or deal with any whites, except to trade for cer-
tain commodities which they stood in need of. The
commissioners knew as little of how to proceed to make

The Council at Fort Benton

35S

those Indians understand their meaning as an Apache
would know of Latin.

My eating-house now did a rushing business, for that
evening I was asked to give supper to all the chiefs.
It would have been amusing to any one with a knowl-
edge of Indian character to see the warriors who, when
they heard I was going to give all the chiefs their supper,
came to me and claimed to be chiefs. We did feed
perhaps a dozen leading warriors besides the chiefs.
I notified the cook to be prepared to feed about forty
Indians. We had plenty to eat, but no fancy dishes.
The cook was well up in his business.

After supper, the commissioners called the inter-
preter and me to council with them, for they saw that
some change must be made in the proceedings. We
told them that they must condense, must leave out
‘‘party of the first part,” ‘‘party of the second part,”
“for and in consideration of, etc.,” and must state in as
few words as possible what they desired of the In-
dians. The clerk got to work, and in half an hour had
the forty closely written sheets of paper condensed to
less than one, which contained the meaning of the
whole.

At nine o’clock next morning the council met again,
all the chiefs being in their seats. The Small Robe
band of Piegans claimed the land on the south side of
the Missouri River as far as Musselshell River. They
ceded in the treaty all their rights to this territory.
Other Piegans and the Blood Indians claimed territory

356 Beyond the Old Frontier

along the summit of the Rocky Mountains south to
the Little Blackfoot River, and thence southeast to the
Missouri River. In the treaty they ceded all the ter-
ritory from the mouth of the Marias River up the
Marias to the Teton River, following the middle of
the stream to its source, for a stipulated sum to be
given them for twenty years. The Gros Ventres had
no land to cede. The Blackfeet also had no land to
cede, and according to the views of many they had no
business in this treaty, because they lived in, and claimed
to belong to, what they called Red Coat Land, namely,
that belonging to King George. Some of them wore
King George’s medals, and showed that they felt proud
of them. All the country east of the Teton River was
set apart for a Piegan and Blood reserve. The treaty
was concluded by five p. M. All the Indians understood
what was wanted of them, and the preliminaries were
thus shortened by at least thirty-nine days. The treaty
was not satisfactory to all the Indians, but they had
to abide by it. Without the influence of some of the
mountaineers — who never received any credit for the
part they took in bringing it about — that treaty would
not have been made at that time.

The next day began the distributing of the goods.
It would take the pen of a Mark Twain to describe the
scenes that took place. Two days were required to get
through this distribution, and the goods that remained
and were to be issued to half-breeds were put in my
charge, for distribution when the breeds had all arrived.

DISTRIBUTION OF GOODS TO THE GROS VENTRES

The Council at Fort Benton

3S7

The next morning the commissioners paid me out of
the Indian goods for feeding the Indians and for my
trip across the country, and I had Jack paid for
his time, also from the goods. The commissioners
then left for Helena with Agent Gad. E. Upson. He
knew as much about an Indian as I did about the in-
habitants of Jupiter.

About ten a. m., one hour after the commissioners
had left. Little Dog, chief of the South Piegans, came
into town and found us. This man was one of the
noblest and bravest chiefs living at that day. He was a
friend to the whites, and had killed four of the under
chiefs of his tribe for warring against the whites. He
could muster about two hundred and fifty warriors.
When he found me, he told me that the North Piegans,
under Mountain Chief, the Bloods, and the Blackfeet,
had secured some whiskey and were getting ugly and
singing their war-songs. Little Dog advised the whites
to remain in their houses. He believed that these
northern people would attack the Gros Ventres camp,
and might also shoot at the whites. Some Indian
women had warned us of the situation just before
Little Dog came in. Now the agent had a twelve-
pound brass cannon. We put this in a “doby”
building which was used as a warehouse, and through
the wall knocked a hole about twelve inches in
diameter for the muzzle, as well as several port-
holes for rifles. There was no one present who knew
much about cannons, but we loaded the piece with

358 Beyond the Old Frontier

six pounds of powder rammed tight, twenty pounds
of one-ounce balls, and some smaller bullets, for we
were determined to have it double-shotted. J. V.
Cochran, who lives in Billings, Montana, had charge of
the cannon. He was, and is, as game as a war eagle,
and if called upon, would have fired the cannon if it
had burst in a thousand pieces.

We had rifle-pits dug at different points of vantage,
and there were forty-five white men to defend them.
At the fort, the Northwest Fur Company had twelve
men, all of them in the fort, with the gates locked. No
assistance could be expected from them.

I mounted Dick and, with Little Dog and Jack, paid
a visit to the Gros Ventres. They had already been
warned, had their lodges pitched in a circle, their ponies
corralled, and rifle-pits dug all around the village. All
the warriors were stripped to the breech-clout, and
many of them were painted as demons are supposed to
paint. Famasi and Star Robe, the chiefs, met us out-
side. Little Dog informed them that he would try to
prevent the hostiles from attacking them, and advised
them not to shoot first if the hostiles came. He de-
clared that he and his people would be their friends,
and bidding them good-by, we returned. After looking
over the ground and seeing that everything was in or-
der for defence in the town, I went with Little Dog and
Jack to the village of the South Piegans. The young
men were busy putting their arms in order for action,
for they expected a fight. It must be remembered that

The Council at Fort Benton

359

at this time bad blood existed between many of the
North Piegans and the South Piegans, and though
things were outwardly peaceful enough, a war between
them could easily have been precipitated. Leaving
the South Piegans, I rode around to the other villages
and notified all the chiefs that they must control their
young men, must not permit them to commit any
overt act, and must keep them away from the Gros
Ventres village, or half of their warriors would be
killed. Jack confirmed my assertion, adding much
more to it. The chiefs used their utmost endeavor to
control their young men, and they partially succeeded
with many.

The day after the Indians left the boys joked me
about forty-five men going to kill half of fifteen hundred
warriors, saying: “Bill had more gall than the devil,
and could out-blufF six.’’

About eleven o’clock five hundred naked warriors
in their war regalia, painted and mounted on their
best ponies, which were also painted, went down the
bottom toward the Gros Ventres village, yelling and
uttering their war-cries. The ground fairly trembled
under the horses’ feet. Every one expected that the
fight was on. Little Dog had sixty warriors at the
upper end of the town. I remained with him, and
we carefully watched the proceedings below, expect-
ing every moment to hear shots. The Indians rode
around the Gros Ventres camp, some two hundred
yards distant from it. If one shot had been fired

Beyond the Old Frontier

360

by either party, a bloody fight would have followed,
as those Indians who were now held back by their
chiefs would then have joined their friends. The
whites could not have left the town to give assistance
to the Gros Ventres, nor could the Gros Ventres leave
their village to help the whites. I think that if it had
come to the point. Little Dog would have joined the
whites. It was believed by many experienced Indian
men present that our visit to the Gros Ventres village
prevented what might have been a massacre, or at
least would have been a hard fight. There were many
hot-headed and brave young Gros Ventres, and it may
have been that our warning kept them from some rash
acts.

Little Dog notified all the hostile bands that If they
attacked the whites they would have him to fight.
They were all of them afraid of him, and I know that
his stand had a moral effect.

The hostiles rode around the Gros Ventres village
many times, yelling, calling names, and sending forth
challenges to the Gros Ventres to come out and fight;
but the Gros Ventres remained quiet in their rifle-pits.
I learned afterward that it was all their chiefs could
do to keep their young men from accepting the hostiles’
challenges to fight. After a great deal of this verbal
defiance, the hostiles rode back to their camp on a run,
firing off their guns In the air. When opposite the town
they halted and formed a half circle and began to sing
their war-songs. After the songs a few approached

The Council at Fort Benton

361

within two hundred yards of the agency building, call-
ing the whites dogs and women, names which were
understood. The interpreters were directed to tell the
Indians to stop their talk or we would kill them, and
presently they rode back to their company, gave a yell
of defiance, and left for their villages.

This lull gave us all an opportunity to eat dinner.
I took Little Dog, Jack, and three other chiefs with me
to dinner, and just as we had finished eating a fearful
yell was heard. The chiefs jumped up and mounted
quickly, making signs to the whites to remain in the
houses. I mounted Dick and went with the chiefs,
though many of the men called out to me: ‘‘Don’t go,
sheriff.” I had decided what I should do in case of
a fight. If the hostiles attacked the town, and Little
Dog attacked the hostiles, I would remain with him,
for there I would be of more benefit to the town
than I would be in the building. If, on the other
hand. Little Dog failed to act, I could return to the
town.

The yell was given by some one thousand two
hundred painted savages, each of whom had tied
from five to twenty yards of calico to his horse’s tail
and started out on a run all over the bottom. Calico
of many colors was flying in all directions, and each
Indian was trying to make his pony step on the calico
tied to the horse next in advance. They were yelling
and firing off their guns in every direction. It was a
wild orgy, such as neither I nor any one else had

362

Beyond the Old Frontier

ever beheld, and we had witnessed many a wild
scene. It was something for a Rembrandt or a Rem-
ington to paint; the first scene of the kind, and, I
believe, the last, ever seen in the United States.

[A scene somewhat similar to the one described took
place in southern Nebraska in the year 1867 when the
Cheyennes ditched a freight train on the railroad then
being constructed across the continent. The Indians
who took part in the wrecking of this train have told
me how the freight cars were broken open, the goods
taken from them and scattered over the prairie, and
how the young men in sport knotted the ends of
bolts of calico to their horses’ tails and then gal-
loped wildly in all directions, the cloth streaming be-
hind them in the wind.]

That night the Gros Ventres, like the Arabs, silently
moved their village, without being discovered by their
enemies. The next morning all the Indians except
Little Dog’s band left for the north, to go to their own
country. Before they left two war parties had been
organized to raid upon the miners and ranchmen in
different sections of the Territory. Such was the re-
sult of this great treaty.

Before they moved out a few of us visited the Indian
villages. As many Indians were dissatisfied with the
treaty, they looked on us with distrust, and hatred was
plainly visible in their faces and their actions. We
assumed the authority to notify the chiefs that they
must control their young men and keep them from steal-

The Council at Fort Benton

363

ing from the whites, or war on them by the whites
would continue. In part the treaty was successful.
As a whole it was a failure, for a chronic state of warfare
continued for years.

INDEX

Abenakis, 58. ^

Abert, Lt., 205.

A Boy in Indian Camps, 235, 237.
Adventures in Mexico and the Rocky
Mountains, 194.

Adventures on the Oregon or Colum-
bia River, 4.

Agave Americana, 197.

“Albatross,” 36.

Ama-ketsa, 89, 90, ill.

American Fur Co., 5, 153.

Antelope, habits of, 310.

Apache, 138, 154, 188.

Arapahoes, 154, 161, 188, 260, 329,

335-

Arkansas River, 128, 129, 130, 189.
Arkansor River, 278.

Arrow Creek, 333.

Arroyo Hondo, 147.

Assiniboine, Fort, 121.

Astor Company, 5.

Astor House, 278.

Astor, John Jacob, 3, et seq.

Astor project, 38.

Astoria, 3, 12, 42.

Astoria, building of, 10.

Bait for alligator, 279.

Baker, I. G., 328.

Baker’s Bay, 8, 37.

Ban-at-tees, 88, III.

Bannocks, 88.

Barbadoes, 194.

Battle of bulls, 294.

Battles at Adobe Walls, 154, et seq.
Battle with Piegans, 95.

Bay, Baker’s, 8, 37.

Bayard, Lt. Geo. D., 155.

Bayou Salado, 207, 208, 230.

Bear hunting, 65, 313, 317.

Bear Paw Mountains, 346, 350.

Bear River, 112.

Bear Wolf, 350.

Beaubien, Charles, 170.

Beaubien, Narcisse, 170.

“Beaver,” 25, 26.

Beaver Creek, 349.

Beaver trap, 79.

Bellevue Point, 14.

Bent, Charles, 128, 137, 141, 142,
162, 215.

Bent, Charles (the younger), 130.
Bent, Colonel \Cee Wm. W. Bent).
Bent County (Colo.), 190.

Bent, George, 128, 130, 139.

Bent, George (the younger), 130.
Bent, Governor (death of), 144.
Bent, John, 127.

Bent, Julia, 130.

Bent, Mary, 130.

Bent, Robert, 128, 130, 139.

Bent, Robert (the younger), 130.
Bent, St. Vrain & Co., 237.

Bent, Silas, 127.

Bent, Silas (the younger), 127.

Bent, Wm. W., 127, 128, 139, 141;

(death of), 158.

Bent & St. Vrain, 132.

Benton, 326.

Bent’s Fort, 127, 130, 248.

(Farnham’s description), 158.
Bent’s Old Fort (described), 132.

368

Index

Big Bend, 304.

Big Snowy Mountains, 338, 340.

Big Timbers, 157.

Birch bark, 57.

Birch-bark canoes, 57.

Black Beaver, 171.

Black Butte, 335.

Black, Captain, 37.

Black Hills, 132.

Blackfeet, loi, 103, 104, 116, 329,

335, 352.

Blair, Frank P., 140, 170.

Bloods, 329, 352.

Boast of voyageur, 122.

Boggs, Charles, 153.

Boggs, Tom, 153, 179, 182, 188.

Bo IS de vaches, 242.

Boucharville, 306, 311, 312, 316,
320.

Bourgeois, 92.

Box Elder Creek, 336.

Breakfast, Indian, 17.

Breaking mules, 239.

Buchanan, Honorable James, 142.
Buffalo bull, adventure with, 299.
Buffalo habit, 113.

Buffalo hunting, 222.

Buffalo running, 290, 296.

Building of Astoria, 10.

Bull Goes Hunting, 344.

Bull Mountains, 336, 337, 340.

California and Oregon Trail,
Calispels, 100,

Camp on the march, 250.

Camp on the prairie, 282.

Campbell, Robert, 128.

Canadian River, 138.

Candles, tallow, 185.

Candy-pulling, 185.

Canoe management, 8.

Canoe Point, 113.

Captain Black, 37.

Captain Thorn, 7, 9, 24.

Carcajou, 229.

Carpenter, E. W., 328.

Carroll & Steele, 328.

Carson, Kit, 131, 132, 154, 162, 163,
169, 170, 179; (death of), 158.
Cascades, 26, 59.

Cath-le-yach-e^M ,;h, 42.

Catlin, 281.

Cayuse, 44,

Cedar Lake, 121.

Chadwick, Mr., 238, 244.

Chardon, Mr., 304, 306, 315.
Cheyennes, 13 1, 154, 157, 161, 188,

329, 335-

Chihuahua, 194, 203.

Chihuahua, game of, 203.

Chinooke, 8,

Chinook Point, 9.

Chinooks, 9.

Chipita, 184, 185.

Chouteau County (Mont.), 328.
Chouteau, Jr. & Co., Pierre, 238.
Chouteaus, 130.

Cimarron River, 167.

Clarke, John, 35.

Clark’s Fork, 17.

Cochran, J. V., 358.

Columbia, Forks of, 26.

Columbia River, 3, et seq.
Comanches, attack by, 260.
Comanches, 138, 154, 163, 176, 188,
260.

Come Comly, 37.

Comelops, 27.

Coolidge, Mr., 264, 266, 267.
Council at Fort Benton, The, 323,

325.

Council Bluffs, 282.

Council Grove, Kan., 241.

Cowlitz River, 72.

Cox, Ross, 5, 24.

Creeks {see River).

Crees, 100.

Crooks, Ramsey, 24, 25, 27.

Crows, 1 16, 312, 329, 332, 335.

Cuba, 194.

Index

369

Daughters of the American Revolu-
tion, 190.

Davis, Charles, 179.

Dawson, James, 320
Day, John, 25, 27.

Day’s, John, Valley T04, I05.
Dease, J. W., 94.

Deep Creek, 334.

Delawares, 171, 175.

De Lisle, Frank, 239.

Diamond Springs, 142.

Diaz, Porfirio, 195.

Dog flesh as food, 253.

“Dolly” (schooner), 23.

Doniphan, Colonel A. W., 142, 204.
Doniphan’s Expeditiony 132, 136.
Drinker, Mr., 238.

Eagle Creek, 350.

Eagle Eye, 330.

Eagle Tail Feathers, 138.

Edmonton, 121.

El Paso, 194, 205.

Emigrant trail, 183.

Eyacktana, 48, 50.

Eyakema Valley, 44,

Famasi, 349, 358.

Farnham, R., 24.

Farnham, Thos. J., 158.

Father of all Children, 352.

Feast, Indian, 60.

Fernandez, 145.

Fight at Arroyo Hondo, 147.

Fight with Blackfeet, 341.

Fisher, 179.

Fitzpatrick, Thos., 140, 172.
Flathead House, 117.

Flathead River, 102.

Flathead River Post, 100.

Flatheads, 100.

Flat Willow Creek, 336, 338.
Fontaine-qui-bouille, 208.

Forest and Streamy 326.

Fort Adobe, 138, 139, 153.
Assiniboine, 121.

Bent, 127, 130, 248.

Benton, 326.

Berthold, 316.

Fauntleroy, 158.

Flathead River Post, 100.
Garr>^, 5.

George, 5, 42.

Jasper House, 121.

Larpenteur’s Post, 304.
Leavenworth, 132.

Lyon, 158.

McKenzie, 301.

Minitaree, 304.

Minitaree Post, 320.

Nez Perces, 71, 72, 75, 94.
Okanagan, 43> S3-
Pierre, 290.

Rocky Mountain House, 121.
St. Vrain, 138, 139, 153.
Spokane, 27, 28, 32.

Spokane House, 95, 100.

Union, 290, 306, 307, 309, 32a,
346-

Vermilion, 289.

White River Post, 303, 304.
William (Bent’s), 130, 171, 248,,
William (N. W. Co.), 42.

Wise, 158.

Fourchette Creek, 348.

Francisco, 13 1.

Franklin, Captain John, 121.

Fraser River, 23.

Fur Hunters oj the Far West, 4, 41.

Game of Chihuahua, 203.

Garrard, Lewis H., 132, 145, 237.
Garry, Fort, 5.

George, Fort, 5, 42.

“Gibraltar of Columbia,” 76.

Goat, white, 19.

Goddin River, 104, 105, 116.
Governor Charles Bent, 141, 259.
Grand Detour, 304.

370

Index

Greeley, Colo., 154.

Green, Andrew, 137, 184.

Green, Dick, 138.

Greenhorn River, 152, 208.

Grizzly bear, 64.

Gros Ventres, 329, 332, 349, 352,

353-

Hallock, Charles, 176.

Hamilton, \Vm. T., 325.

Hatcher, 179, 180, 182, 184.
Hawkins, John, 208.
He-him'ni-ho-nah', Freckled Hand,
179.

Hell’s Gate, loi.

High wood Mountains, 333.
His'si-o-me'ta-ne, 167.

Hodgens, 88, 89, 90.

Ho-nih, Wolf, 179.

Horses recovered from Crows, 165.
Horse-taking by Comanches, 164.
Hudson Bay Company, 3, et seq.
Hudson Bay Company,With the, 91.
Huerfano River, 208.

Hughes, J. T., 132.

Hunt, Wilson Price, 5, 24, 35.

Independence, Mo,, 281.

Indian feast, 60.

Indian tribes: Abenakis, 58; Apache,
138, 154, 188; Arapahoes, 154, 161,
188, 2^, 329, 335; Ban-at-tees,
88, III; Bannocks, 88; Blackfeet,
loi, 103, 104, 1 16, 329, 335, 352;
Bloods, 329, 352; Calispels, 100;
Cath-le-yach-e-yach, 42; Cayuse,
44; Cheyennes, 131, 154, 157, 161,
188, 329, 335> 362; Chinooke or
Chinooks, 9; Comanches, 138, 154,
163, 176, 188, 260; Crees, 100;
Crows, 1 16, 312, 329, 332, 335;
Delawares, 171, 175; Flatheads,
100; Gros Ventres, 329, 332, 349,
352, 353; Iroquois, 58, 65, 72, 73,
100, loi, 1 15; Kiowas, 138, 154,

155, 161, 188; Kutenais, 100;
Minitarees, 309; Navajo, 142;
Nez Perces, 16, 27, 32, 44, 88, 102,
1 16; Okanagan, 54; Palouse, 100;
Piegans, 95, 98, 99, 100, loi, 104,
105, 106, 329, 352, 355; Pisscows,
44, 53; Saulteaux, 100; Shahap-
tin; 16, 17; Shaw-ha-ap-tens {See
Shahaptin); Shawnees, 171, 175;
She-Whaps, 23, 27, 61, 64; Sho-
shoni, 88, 178; Sioux, 329, 335;
Snakes, 25, 72, 81, 84, 85, 88, 90,
100; Spokanes, 100; Suhtai, 167;
Walla Walla, 17, 82; War-are-ree-
kas (Shoshoni), 89, iii; Wy-am-
pams, 16; Wyandottes, 239.
Indians and Their Battles, 75.
International boundary, 321.
Iroquois, 58, 65, 72, 73, 100, lOI,
II5-

Ishmah, 301, 308.

Jack, 330, 358.

Jasper House, 121.

Juarez, 195.

Judith Mountains, 335, 336.

Judith River, 326, 327, 335.

Kamloops, 27.

Kansas City, Mo., 141.

Kearny, General S. W., 142, 161,
162, 204.

Keith, James, 42, 43, 58.

Kiowas, 138, 154, 161, 188.

Kiowa woman, 168.

Kipp, James, 281, 289, 320.

Kipp, Joe, 328.

Kittson, Mr., 77, 78, 81.

Knife River, 304.

Kutenais, 100.

La Bonte, 233.

La Canada, 148.

Lake Bourbon, 121.

Larocque, Joseph Felix, 121.

Index

371

Larpenteur’s Post, 304.
Leavenworth, Fort, 132.

Lee, General, 238.

Lewis and Clark, 71, 103.

Lewis Fork, 17, 90.

Life at Bent’s Fort, 170.

Little Blackfoot River, 356.

Little Dog, 330, et seq.

Little Missouri River, 316, 317.
Little Mountain, 138.

Little Rocky Mountains, 348, 349.
Little White Man, 128.

Long Narrows, 24, 26.

Madeira Islands, 194.

Maguey, 197,

Malades River, 105, 112.

Mammoth Cave, Ky., 280.

Marias River, 356.

“Martha,” 320.

Maxwell, L., 179.

McDonald, Finan, 94, 98, 99, 103.
McDonald, John (Bras Croche), 43.
McDougall, Duncan, 6, 10, 36.
McKay, Alexander, 6, 24.

McKay, young, 44.

McKenzie, Alexander, 3.

McKenzie, Donald, 24, 25, 26, 33,
58, 69, 73, 78.

McKenzie, Kenneth, 238.

McLellan, Donald, 5, 24.

McTavish, J. G., 32.

Meagher, General Francis, 326, 327,

328,353.

Medicine Springs, 332, 335.
Men-ds-to'-kos, 352.

Minitaree Fort, 304.

Minitaree Post, 320.

Minitarees, 309.

Missoula, Mont., 327.

Missouri River, 332.

Moccasin Mountains, 332.

Mora, N. M., 158.

Mormons, 282.

Mountain Chief, 357.

Mountain sheep, 221.

Mountains: Bear Paw, 346, 350; Big
Snowy, 338, 340; Bull, 336, 337,
340; Highwood, 333; Judith, 335,
336; Little Rocky, 348, 349; Moc-
casin, 332; Turtle, 316.

Mourning, Indian, 82, 347.

Munson, Judge, 328.

Murray, 178, 179, 180.

Musselshell River, 336, 337, 339,

348,357.

My Sixty Years on the Plains, 326.

Navajo Indians, 142.

New Caledonia, 25.

Nez Perces, 16, 27, 32, 44, 88, 102,
1 16.

Nez Perces Fort, 71, 72, 75, 94.
No-ma-nih', Fish, 179.

North Platte River, 183.

Northwest Company, 3, et seq.
Northwesters, 4, et seq.

Northwest Fur Co., 41.

Norway House, 121, 122.

Oakinacken River, 19.

Ogden, Peter, 73.

Okanagan, Fort, 43, 53.

Okanagan Indians, 54.

Okanagan River, 19, et seq.
Okanogan, 20.

Okinagan, 20.

“Old Bark,” 259.

One-eyed Juan, 183.

Otero Co. (Colo.), 190.

Outfit for prairie travel, 330.

Owl Woman, 129.

Pacific Fur Co., 5, et seq.

Paint, 239.

Palliser, Colonel Wray, 277.

Palliser, John, 277.

Palouse, 100.

Paquenode, 306.

Parkman, 237.

372

Index

Pau-e-sih', Flat Nose, 179.

Pawnee Fork, 176, 260.

“Pawnee” (Kiowa chief), 155.
Payette River, 107.

Peacock’s Ranch, 155.

Peck, R. M., 154.

Perey, 306, 308.

Piegans, 98, 99, 100, loi, 104, 105,
106, 329, 352.

Piegans, battle with, 95,

Pierre, Fort, 290.

Pierre, S. D., 290.

“Pilot Knobs,” 90.

Pisscow River, 19.

Pisscows, 44, S3.

Plum Creek, 335.

Point Canoe, 113.

Point Chinook, 9.

Point George, 9.

Point Vancouver, 14,

P6-o-om'm5ts, Gray Blanket, 179.
Poor (Lean) Bear, 138.

Porcupine Creek, 340, 343.

Poshett Creek, 348.

Power, T. C., 328.

Prairie fire, 284.

Prairie traveller, 277.

Priest Rapids, 19.

Prince, 85.

Pueblo, Colo., 129, 130, 157.

Pulque, 197.

Purgatoire River, 129, 130, 157,
171-

Quarrel, Indian, 86.

“Raccoon,” 37.

Raids by Indians, 198.

Rattling Buttes, 335.

Red Coat Land, 356.

Red River (of North,) 1 2 1, 122, 1 23.
Red River (of Texas), 167.

Red River settlement, 4.

Red Sleeves, 176.

Red Sleeves Creek, 176.

Reed, John, 33.

Reid (See Reed, J.), 88.

Reid’s River (see Payette River,
107).

Reynolds, A. E., 189.

Richardson, Dr., 121.

Rio del Norte, 205.

Rio Grande, 205.

Rivers: Arkansas, 128, 129, 130, 189;
Arkansor, 278; Arrow, 333; Bear,
1 12; Beaver, 349; Box Elder, 336;
Canadian, 138; Cimarron, 167;
Clark’s Fork, 17; Columbia, 3, ei
seq.; Columbia, Forks of, 26; Cow-
litz, 72; Deep, 334; Eagle, 350;
Flathead, 102; Flat Willow, 336,
338; Fontaine-qui-bouille, 208;
Fourchette, 348; Fraser, 23; God-
din, 104, 105, 1 16; Greenhorn,
152, 208; Huerfano, 208; Judith,
326, 327, 335; Knife, 304; Lewis
Fork, 17, 90; Little Blackfoot, 356;
Little Missouri, 3 16, 317; Malades,
105, 1 12; Marias, 356; Missouri,
332; Musselshell, 336, 337, 339,
348, 357; North Platte, 183; Oak-
inacken, 19; Okanagan, 19, et seq.;
Oregon, 4; Pawnee Fork, 176, 260;
Payette, 107; Pisscow, 19; Plum,
335; Porcupine, 340, 343; Poshett,
348; Purgatoire, 129, 130, 157,
171; Red (of North), 121, 122, 123;
Red (of Texas), 167; Red Sleeves,
176; Reid’s (See Payette), 107;
Rio del Norte, 205; Rio Grande,
205; Riviere aux Malades, 105,
1 12; Saint Vrain’s Fork, 138;
Salmon, 104; Sa-mick-a-meigh, 31;
Skam-naugh, 76; Smilkameen, 31;
Snake, 25; Teton, 356; Walnut,
155; Willamette, 58; Willow, 334;
Wolf, 334; Yellowstone, 281, 306.
Riviere aux Malades, 105, II2.
Rocky Mountain House, 121.

Ross, Alexander, 3, et passim.

Index

373

Rowan, Mr., 121.

Running down a calf, 314.

Russell, Colonel, 264.

Russian America, 5.

Ruxton, George Frederick, 191, 193.

Sagacity of wolves, 208.

Sage grouse, 64.

St. Louis, 194.

St. Vrain, Ceran, 130.

St. Vrain (death of C.), 158.

St. Vrain, Felix, 158.

St. Vrain’s Fork, 138.

Salmon River, 104.

Sa-mick-a-meigh River, 31.

Sand Creek massacre, 249.

Sandwich Islanders, 58.

Sandwich Islands, 7.

San Fernandez, 145.

San Fernando, 142.

Santa Anna, General, 195.

Santa Fe, 129, et seq.

Santa Fe trail, 127.

Saulteaux, 100.

Scalp dance, 256.

Seaton, Alfred, 33.

Sedgwick, Major, 155.

Shahaptin, 16, 17.

Shaved Head, 138.

Shaw-ha-ap-tens {see Shahaptin).
Shawnees, 171, 175.

She-Whaps, 23, 27, 61, 64.

“Short Man, The,” 326.

Shoshoni, 88, 178.

Simplicity of Indians, 19.

Simpson, Governor, 95, 117, 121.
Sioux, 329, 335.

Skam-naugh River, 76.

Skunk, adventure with, 20.

Small Robe band (Piegan), 355.
Smallpox at Bent’s Fort, 13 1.
Smilkameen River, 31.

Smith, Green Clay, 327.

Smith, John, 179, 248, 252, 253, 254,
255-

Snake Indians, 25, 72, 81, 84, 85, 88,
90, 100.

Snake River, 25.

Solitary Hunter, The, 275, 277,
321.

Spokane House, 95, lOO.

Spokanes, 100,

Spotted Horse, 344.

Staked Plains, 167.

Star Robe, 350, 358.

Stevens, Governor I. I., 326.

Stuart, Alexander, 42, 43.

Stuart, David, 6, 22, 25, 26, 27.
Stuart, Robert, 24, 25, 27.

Suhtai, 167.

Tailing the bull, 200.

Taos, 129, 137, 145.

Teton River, 356.

Thompson, David, 13, 15, 17.
Thorn, Captain, 7, 9, 24.

Three Tetons, 90, 115.

Thunder Birds, 187.

“Tod Issac,” 36.

To'hau-sen, 138, 155.

“Tonquin,” 7, 13, 23.

Tonquin Point, 9.

Trade for horses, 182.

Trade for liquor, 18 1.

Trade for robes, 182.

Trade, winter’s, 23.

Trails of the Pathfinders, 24, 3 1.
Train-wrecking by Cheyennes, 362.
Trapper’s earnings, 219.

Trappers’ methods, 79.

Trapper’s outfit, 216.

Traps stolen, 107.

Travel by ox train, 172.

Travois dog, 300.

Tummatapam, 17.

Tunica, 353.

Turley, 147.

Turley’s Ranch, 147.

Turtle Mountains, 316.

“Twins, The,” 71.

374

Index

Union, Fort, 290, 306, 307, 309, 320,
346.

Upson, Gad. E., 357.

Valley, John Day’s, 104, 105.
V’asquez, Benito, 130.

Vera Cruz, 194.

Vermilion, Fort, 289.

Vide Poche, 242.

Vigil, 144.

Vi-hiu-nis, Little Chief, 179.

fVah-To-Yah and the Taos Trail,
237-

Walla Walla, 27.

Walla Walla Indians, 17, 82.

Walnut Creek, 155.

War-are-ree-kas, 89, ill.

War of 1812, 36.

Wa-si' cha-chischiMa, 128.
Westport, Mo., 141, 171, 238.

White Cow Woman, 168.

White goat, 19.

White River Post, 303, 304.

White Thunder, 130.

Willamette River, 58.

William, Fort (Bent’s), 130, 171,
248.

William, Fort (N. W. Co.), 42.
Williams, Bill, 228, 294, 325.

Willow Creek, 334.

Winnipeg, 5.

Winter storm, 21 1.

Wohk'po-hum', White Horse, 179.
Wolf Creek, 334.

Wolf-shooting, 68.

Wolverine, 229.

Wolves, sagacity of, 208.

Wolves, sleeping, 300.

Wolves, ways of, 54.

Work of a fur trader, 54.

Wounded bull, 246.
Wo-wlhph'pai-i-sih', Big Nostrils,
179.

Wy-am-pams, 16.

Wyandottes, 239.

Yellow Woman, 130.

Yellowstone National Park, 90.
Yellowstone River, 281, 306.

>• -S

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