WESTERN SCENES AND ADVENTURES. THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY A8T0K, LENOX AN» TILD€N FOl^OArtOHt. o < Cm pa o r I- V- '"""^'^s PHILADELPHIA: H. C. BAIRD. 1854., THE KEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY ^TOF., LENOX ^H» SCENES y . A IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, AND IN OREGON, CALIFORNIA, NEW MEXICO, TEXAS, AND THE GRAND PRAIRIES; OR, NOTES BY THE WAY, DURING AN EXCURSION OF THREE YEARS, WITH A DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRIES PASSED THROUGH. INCLUDING THEIR GEOGRAPHY, GEOLOGY, RESOURCES, PRESENT CONDITION, AND THE DIFFERENT NATIONS INHABITING THEM. ' ,J» J JO o» i , » • » o • PHILADELPHIA: HENRY CAREY BAIRD, (successor to E. L. CAREY,) No, 7 HART'S BUILDINGS, SIXTH STREET, ABOVE CHESTNUT. 1854. fTHH NH'.V YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY TILOfeN eOUNOATIONS. Entered, according Act of Congress, in the Year of our Lord 1846. BY RUFUS B. SAGE, in the Clerk's Office of the United States District Court for the Southern District of the State of ISew-Yoriv. I c c Piinted by T. K. & P. G. Collina Cheeked May 19^3 PREFACE. The growing interest entertained by the American public in reference to the subjects mainly treated upon in the volume now before the reader, is deemed a sufficient apology for its appearance. The late act of our National Legislature in the annexation of Texas, bringing with it, as it does, a very considerable portion of the Province of Santa Fe, together with the existing hostilities between our own and the Republic of Mexico, preparing the way for a no distant acquisition of the Californias, not to mention the recent agita- tion of the American claim to the whole of Oregon, as yet scarcely subsided, has directed the attention of most minds more than usually towards the affairs and condition of the Great West — particularly that section of it contigu- ous to the Rocky Mountains. But, although our newspapers teem with professed descriptions of those countries embraced within its limits, and are redundant with animadversions upon their admitted importance — while the ambitious politician prates of them learnedly, and quotes by the day from fugitive paragraphs of doubful verity, gleaned here and there as chance may favor him — a palpable ignorance is evinced throughout in re- gard to a vast store of interesting particulars. To fill up in some measure this wide vacuum of general information, is the author's object in his present undertaking. With this view he has en- deavored to present a full and comprehensive picture of the real condition of regions so attractive as are the above, and in so doing he is conscious of having erred in no important particular. Whatever is affirmed, may be relied upon as matter of facj; , 'wliile detaib of-,a. q+iistionable nature may be inferred from the guardecJ Jtwiguage in., whieh.. th4y are expressed. So far as his personal knowledge Is (onf^rn^^d, he-}/?s spoken without reserve ; but information based upon set ond-liand' authority, is given as such. The catalogue of facts relative to \he manner in which the fur trade is conducted, and the enormities cnrvrj^eable upoiv the individuals engaged in it, may be objected to as unnecessarily minute ; but, regarded, as it should be, as one of the explanatory causes of Indian degradation, it will hardly fail to secure a ready acquiescence from the reader. Justice to the " red man " demands only a rehearsal of the simple truth, that condemnation may be awarded to the doubly guilty. 1* ii. PREFACE. The narrative of the Texan expedition sent against New Mexico in the spring of 1843, with its mishaps, and conflicts with the Mexicans and In- dians, added to a statement of its surrender to the U. S. Dragoons, and the causes which led to its final dispersion, will doubtless claim attention, as being the only account of it hitherto published. In his notes of travel it has been the author's endeavor to avoid prolixity ; and, while his acting motto has been to say as much as possible in a few words, he has not withheld full descriptions of the various scenes and coun- tries that met his view during his lengthy excursion. He is well aware that his style is partially deficient in the ease and gracefulness peculiar to Fome writers ; but here he would offer no apology — it is his own, and for it he neither asks the favor of critics nor expects their lenity. Fully persuaded that a work of this kind will prove acceptable at the present time, the author would fain believe the public in general are more regardful of its intrinsic merits than of the garb in which it appears, and with these observations he is content to abide the result. New-York, July, 1846. • ,«,*-*• »«» «■«■, • •••* • » tCCl. '•*i, «,,»•«• c ct. «e«.c C «-«t « .«'!*««- «- tC*t It ,tt «-•■• «• tC •«€ t C "^cC t* c c t r ccccft cc^ cc c CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Objects of a proposed excursion. Primary plans and movements. A Di^ession. Rendezvous for Oregon emigrants and Santa Fe traders. Sensations on a first visit to the border Prairies. Frontier Indians. 13 CHAPTER II. Preparations for leaving. Scenes at Camp. Tilings as they appeared. Simpli- city of mountaineers. Sleep in the open air. Cliaracter, habits, and costume of mountaineers. Heterogeneous ingredients of Company. The command- ant. En route. Comical exhibition and adventure with a Spanish compa- ny. Grouse. Elm Grove. A storm. Santa Fe traders. Indian battle. 16 CHAPTER III. The Pottowatomies. Crossing the Wakarousha. Adventure at the Springs. The Caw cliief. Kansas river and Indians. Pleading for wMskey. Hick- ory timber. Prairie tea. Scenes at the N. Fork of Blue. Wild honey. Return party. Mountaineers in California. Adventure with a buffalo. In- dian atrocities. Liquor and the Fur Trade. Strict guard. High prices. 23 CHAPTER IV. Country from the frontiers to Big Blue ; its geological character, &c. Novel cure for fever and ague. Indian trails. Game. Large rabbits. Antelope, and their peculiarities. Beaver cuttings. Big Blue and its vicinity. Dangerous country. Pawnee bravery. Night-alarm, (Prairies on fire.) Platte river. Predominant characteristics of the Grand Prairies, and theory explanative of of their phenomenon. Soraetliing to laugh at. " Big Jim " and the ante- lope. 30 CHAPTER V. Deserted camp. Big Jim's third attempt as a hunter. Buffiilo and other particu- lars. Big Jim lying guard. Butchering. Strange selections. Extraordi- nary eating, and excellence cf buffalo meat. Brady's Island. The mur- derer's fate. Substitute for wood. A storm. Game in camp. Strange infatuation. Tenacity of buffalo to life, and how to hunt them. Cross S. Fork of Platte. Big Jim's fourth adventure. 39 iV. , CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. Ash creek. Pawnee and Sioux battle-ground. Bread-root. The Eagle's Nest. Mad wolf. Number and variety of prairie wolves, — their sagacity. Mad bull. Making and curing meat. Big Jim still unfortunate. Johnson's creek. McFarlan's Castle. Deceptiveness of distances. Express from the Fort. Brave Bear. Bull TaU. Talk with the Indians. Speech of Marto-cog- ershne. Reply. Tahtungah-sana's address. 49 CHAPTER VII. The Chimney. A bet. Spur of the Rocky Mountains. Scott's Bluff. Roman- tic scenery. Mimic city. A pyramid. A monument. An elevated garden. Mountain sheep. An Eden. Death in camp. The wanderer's grave. Horse creek and gold. Goche's hole. Arrival at Fort Platte. Remarks by the way. Prairie travel. liocality and description of the Fort. Indian lodges. Migratory habits of mountain and prairie tribes. Scenes at Fort. Drunken Indians. Tragical event. Indian funeral. Speech of Etespa- huska on the death of his father. 60 CHAPTER VIII. Coast clear, and Trade opened. More visitors. Smoking out the natives. Inci- dent illustrative of Indian character. Expeditions for trade. Black Hills. Rawliide. An Indian and a buffalo chase. Deep snow, extreme cold, and painful journey. L'eau-qui-court. Remarks. Lost. White river ; its val- ley, fruits, and game. BuUding site. The Devil's Tea-pot. Troubles with Indians. Theft and its punishment. Indian soldiers. Christmas extras. Outrageous conduct. Rascality of traders. " That Old Serpent." Indian superstition, religious tenets and practices. Notions upon general morality. 71 CHAPTER IX. Dangers connected with the liquor trade. Difliculty wdth Bull Eagle. Scenes of bloodshed and horror. Cheating in the fur trade. How the red man becomes tutored in vice. A cliief 's daughter offered in exchange for liquor. Indian mode of courtship and marriage. Squaws an article of traffic. Di- vorce. Pluraility of wives. 82 CHAPTER X. Tahtunga-egoniska. High gaming. Weur-sena Warkpollo, a strange story. The Death Song, a tale of love. Medicine-men. Extraordinary perform- ance of Tahtunga-mobellu. Wonderful feats of jugglery. 89 CHAPTER XI. Food for horses. Squaws and their performances. Dogs and dog-meat. Re- turn to Fort. Starvation. Travel by guess. Death from drinking. Medi- cine-making. A Burial. Little Lodge and the French trader. A speech CONTENTS. ▼. in council. Journey to White river. High winds and snow. Intense suf- ferings and painful results. 97 CHAPTER XII. Another drunken spree. Horses devoured by wolves. An upset. A blowing up. Daring feat of wolves. A girl offered for liquor. Winter on the Platte. Boat building. Hunting expedition. Journey up the Platte. Island camp. Narrow escape. Snow storm. Warm Spring. Pass of the Platte into the prairies. A valley. Bitter Cottonwood. Indian forts. Wild fruit. Root- digging. Cherry tea and its uses. Geology of the country. Soils, grasses, herbs, plants, and purity of atmosphere. Horse-shoe creek. A panther. Prairie dogs and their peculiarities. 103 CHAPTER XIII. The Creek valley. The Platte as a mountain stream. Canon. Romantic pros- pect. Comical bear story. Perilous encounter with a wounded bull. Ge- ological remarks. Division of party. Safety of spring travel. La Bonte's " creek. Remarks by the way. Service-berry. Deer Creek. General observations. Moccasin making. Box-elder. Bear killed. Excellence of its flesh. Different kinds of bears in Oregon and the mountains. The grizzly bear, his natme and habits. 110 CHAPTER XIV. Desperate encounter with a grizzly bear, and extraordinary instance of suffering. Close contest. A comical incident. Cross Platte. Caiion camp. Sage trees. Mountain sheep, and all about them. Independence Rock ; why so called, and description of it. Devil's Gate. Landscape scenery. 117 CHAPTER XV. Return route. Oregon trail from Independence Rock through the South Pass. Cross the Sweet Water and Platte. Mountain Fowl. Journey up Medicine Bow. Dangerous covmtry. A fight with the Sioux. The " Carcague." A smrprise. Visit to the Crow village. Number and character of the Crow nation. Selling a prisoner for tobacco. Description of Laramie Plains. 123 CHAPTER XVI. Sibille's-hole. Novel bitters. Chugwater. Gold. Curiosity. Affairs at the Fort. Amusements. Gambling among squaws, and games played. Squaw dresses, and riding fashion. Items of interest to the curious, proving the in- tercourse of the ancient Romans with the people of this continent. 132 CHAPTER XVn. Singular exhibition of natural affection. Embark for the States. Scarcity of provisions and consequent hardship and suffering. Extraordinary daring of vi. CONTENTS. wolves. Difficulties of navigation. Novel diet. Fishing. A fish story, and another to match it. A bull story. Hard aground and dismal situation. Extreme exposure. Cold, hungry, and wet. Again afloat. Re-supply of provisions. Camp on fire. A picture of Platte navigation. Coimtry north of river. Adventure with a bull. Indian benevolence. Surmnary of hard- slups and deprivations. Abandon voyage. 139 CHAPTER XVni. Hunting excursion. Thirst more painful than hunger. Geological observations. Mournful casualty. Sad scene of sepulture. Melancholy night. Voyage in an empty boat. Ruins of a Pawnee village at Cedar BlufT Plover creek. Cache Grove. Thousand Islands. Abandon boat. Exploring com- pany. A horrible situation. Agony to torment. Pawnee village. Exem- plary benevolence of an Indian chief. Miserable fourth of July. Four days' starvation. Arrival at Council Bluff. Proceed to Independence. 147 CHAPTER XIX. The country Detween the Pawnee village and Bellevieu, and from that to Fort Leavenworth. Leave Independence for the Mountains. Meet Pawnees. Indian hospitality. Journey up the South Fork Platte. Fort Grove. Bea- ver creek. Bijou. Chabonard's camp. Country described. Medicine Lodge. The Chyennes ; their character and history. Arrive at Fort Lan- caster. Different localities in its neighborhood. Fatal Duel. Ruins. 154 CHAPTER XX. Old acquaintances. Indian murders. Mode of travelUng in a dangerous coun- trjr Mexican traders. Surmnary way of teaching manners. Fort Lancas- ter and surrounding country. Resume journey. Cherry creek and connect- ing observations. Sketch of the Arapahos, their country, character, &c. Camp of free traders. Blackfoot camp. Daugherty's creek. Observations relative to the Divide. Mexican cupidity. Strange visitors. The lone trav- ellers. Arrive at the Arkansas. General remarks. Curious specimens of cacti. Fontaine qui Bouit, or Natural Soda fountain. Indian superstition. Enchanting scenery. Extraordinary wall of sandstone. 162 CHAPTER XXL Vicinity of the Arkansas. Settlement. The Pueblo. Rio San Carlos, its val- leys and scenery. Shooting by moonlight. Taos. Review of the country travelled over. Taos ; its vicinity, scenery, and mines. Ranches and Ran- cheros. Mexican houses ; their domestic economy, and filth. Abject poverty and deplorable condition of the lower classes of Mexicans, with a general review of their character, and some of the causes contributing to their pre- sent degradation. The Pueblo Indians and their strange notions. Ancient temple. Character of the Pueblos. Journey to the Uintah river, and obser- vations by the way. Taos Utahs, Pa-utahs, Uintah and Lake Utahs. Tlie CONTENTS. VU. Diggers ; misery of their situation, strange mode of lying, with a sketch of their character. The Navijos; their civilization, hostility to Spaniards, ludicrous barbarity, braveiy, &c., with a sketch of their country, and why they are less favorable to the whites than formerly. 171 CHAPTER XXII. Uintah trade. Snake Indians; their country and character. Description of Upper California. The Eastern Section. Great Salt Lake and circumjacent country. Desert. Digger country, and regions south. Fertility of soil. Prevailing rock and minerals. Abundance of wUd fruit, grain, and game. Valley of the Colorado. Magnificent scenery. Valleys of the Uintah and other rivers. Vicinity of the Gila. Face of the country, soil &c. Sweet spots. Mildness of climate, and its healthiness. The natives. Sparsity of inhabitants. No government. All about the Colorado and Gila rivers. Abundance of fish. Trade in pearl oyster-shells. Practicable routes from the United States. 182 CHAPTER XXIII. 3Iinerals. Western California. The Sacramento and contiguous regions. Principal rivers. Fish. Commercial advantages. Bay of San Francisco. Other Bays and Harbors. Description of the country ; territory northwest of the Sacramento ; Tlamath Mountains ; California range and its vicinity ; southern parts ; timber, river-bottoms ; Valleys of Sacramento, del Plumas, and Tulare ; their extent, fertility, timber, and fruit ; wild grain and clover, spontaneous; wonderful fecundity of soil, and its products ; the productions, climate, rains, and dews ; geological and mineralogical character ; face of the country; its water; its healtldness ; game; superabundance of cattle, horses, and sheep, their prices, &c. ; beasts of prey; the inhabitants, w^ho; Indians, their character and condition ; Capital of the Province, with other towns ; advantages of San Francisco ; inland settlements ; foreigners and Mexicans ; Government ; its full military strength. Remarks. 189 CHAPTER XXIV. Visitors at Uintah. Adventures of a trapping party. The Munchies, or white Indians ; some account of tliem. Amusements at rendezvous. Mysterious city, and attempts at its exploration, — speculation relative to its inhabitants. Leave for Fort Hall. Camp at Bear river. Boundary between the U. States and Mexico. Green valleys, &c. Country en route. Brown's-hole. Geological observations. Soda, Beer, and Steamboat springs ; their peculi- arities. Minerals. Valley of Bear river ; its fertility, timber, and abun- dance of wild fruit. Buffalo berries. Superior advantages of this section. Minei'al tar. 193 CHAPTER XXV. Fort Hall ; its history, and locality. Information relative to Oregon. Bound- Viii. CONTENTS. aries and extent of the territory. Its rivers and lakes, with a concise descrip- tion of them severally. Abundance and variety of fish and water-fowl. Harbors and islands. Oregon as a whole ; its mountains and geographical divisions. Eastern Divison ; its wild scenery, valleys, soil, and timber ; volcanic ravages ; country between Clarke's river and the Columbia. North of the Columbia; its general character. Middle Division ; its valleys, prai- ries, highlands, and forests. Western Division ; a beautiful country ; ex- tensive valleys of extraordinary fertility ; productive plains ; abundance of timber, its astonishing size and variety. A brief smnmary of facts. 206 CHAPTER XXVI. Climate of Oregon ; its variableness ; its rains ; a southern climate in a north- ern latitude. Productiveness ; grain, fruits, and flowers, wild and culti- vated. Geological characteristics. Soils and prevailing rock. Minerals, &c. Variety of game. Wolves. Horses, and other domestic animals. Population, white and native ; Indian tribes, their character and condition. Missionary stations, and their improvements. Present trade of Oregon. Posts of the Hudson Bay Company. Settlements. Oregon City, its situa- tion and advantages ; about Linnton ; about Wallammette valley, Fualitine plains and Umpqua river ; Vancouvre, and its superior advantages. lOnd- ness of Hudson Bay Company to settlers. 217 CHAPTER XVII. The manufacturing facilities of Oregon. Commercial and agricultural advan- tages reviewed. Rail Road to the Pacific. Route, mode of travelling, and requisite equipment for emigrants. Importance of Oregon to the United States. Incident in the early history of Fort Hall. Why the Blackfeet are hostile, and bright spots in their character. Mild weather. Leave for the Platte. Journey to the Yampah, and sketch of the intermediate country. New Park. Head of Grand river. The landscape. Difierent routes to Fort Lancaster. Old Park. 225 CHAPTER XXVIII. From Grand river to Bayou Salade. Observations by the way. Description of the Bayou. Voracity of magpies. Journey to Cherry creek. Country en route. Crystal creek. Abundance of game. Antelope hunting. Remark- able sagacity of wolves. Snow storms and amusement. Ravenn. Move camp. Comfortable winter quarters. Animal food conducive to general health and longevity. A laughable instance of sound sleepmg. Astonish- ' ing wolfine rapacity. Beaver lodges and all about beaver. Hunting excur-^ sion. Vasques' creek, its valleys, table lands, mountains, and prairies. Camp. Left alone. Sensations, and care to avoid danger. A nocturnal visitor. Thrilling adventure and narrow escape. A lofty specimen of "gettin down stairs." Geological statistics. 233 CONTENTS. IX. CHAPTER XXIX. Return to the Fort, Texan recruiting officer. New plans. Volunteer. The Chance Shot, or Special Providence. Texan camp. Country contiguous to the Arkansas, from Fontaine qui Bouit to the Rio de las Animas. Things at rendezvous. A glance at the company. Disposal of force. March up the de las Animas. The country ; Timpa valley, and its adjoining hills, to the de las Animas. The latter stream ; its canon, valley and enchanting scenery. Tedious egress. Unparalleled suffering from hunger, toil, and cold. Wolf flesh and buffalo hide. Painful consequences of eating cacti. A feast of mule meat after seven days' starvation. Camp at the Taos trail. The adjacent country. Strict guard. A chase. The meet reward for treason. 244 CHAPTER XXX. March down the Cimarone. Junction of the two divisions. Country between the de las Animas and the Cimarone. Perilous descent. Caiion of the Cimarone. Soil and prevailing rock. A fort. Grandeur and sublimity of scenery. Beauty of rocks, Cimarone of the pain. Fruits and game. Wide- spread desolation. A dreary country. Summer on the Desert. Remarks. Encounter with Indians. Nature's nobleman. Wild horses and difTereiit modes of catching them. Failure of expected reinforcements. March into the enemy's country. Ancient engravings upon a rock. Boy in the wolf's den. A man lost. Forced march. Torment of thirst. Remarks. The lost found. Expulsion for cowardice, — its effect. 253 CHAPTER XXXI. Mexican camp. Pursuit. Advance upon Mora. Enemy discovered. Coun- try between the Rio de las Animas and Mora ; its picturesque beauty. Ad- mirable point of observation. Fortified position. Battle of the pass ; order of attack, passage of the river, storming the enemy's camp, and number of killed, wounded and prisoners. Council of war.* Prisoners released. Message to Amijo. Return march. Mexican army. Attacked, and results of action. Mexican bravery. Retreat. Cross the Table Mountain. Nev/ species of wild onions. March down the de las Animas. Discouragements accumulate. Disband. Sketch cf factions. Texan prisoners. Arrival of reinforcements. Battle of the Arroyo : killed, wounded, and prisoners. Retreat of Amijo. " Stampede." Frightful encounter with the Cumanches and Kuyawas. Discharge of troops. AfTair with Capt. Cook. Surrender to U. S. Dragoons, and failure of expedition. Return to Texas. Journey to the Platte. Country between the Arkansas and Beaver creek. Feasting at camp. Crows' eggs. Lateness of season. Snow-storm in June. An Indian fort. Serio-comico adventure with a wolf. Indians. Song of the night-bird. 262 2 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXXII. Lost. Night on the Prairie. Head of the Kansas river. Minerals. Country. Gold. Wonderful incident relative to a wounded bull. Indians. Join the Arapahos. Moving village. Country between Beaver creek and the Platte. Canon. Reach Fort Lancaster. Fortune bettered. News from the States. Murder. Extraordinary instances of human tenacity to life. Arrival of Indians. Theft. Chyenne outrage. Return of Oregon emigrants. " Old Bob," and his adventures. A " Protracted Meeting," or Indian Medicine- making. Indian oath. Jaunt to the mountains. Mountain scenery. Camp on Thompson's creek. Wild fruits. Concentration of valleys. Romantic view. A gem in the mountains. Grand river pass. Salt lakes. Aston- ishing scope of vision. The black-tailed deer. Peculiarity in horses. Re- markable natural fortification. Return. Travelling by guess. 273 CHAPTER XXXIII. Newspapers. False reports. Singular grasses. Sale of skins at Fort Lancaster. An excursion. An incident. Camp. Huge horns. Leopard. Panther. Slaughter of eagles. Dressing skins. The hunter's camp. Vasques' creek. The weather. Return of comrades to Fort. Sweets of solitude. Expo- sure in a snow-storm. The canon of S. Fork Platte. A ridge. A val- ley. Beautiful locality. Choice site for a settlement. Flowers in February. A hunting incident. Fate of the premature flowers. Adventure with a sheep. Discovered by Indians. A pleasant meeting. Camp at Crystal creek. Thoughts of home. Resolve on going. Commence journey. The caravan. " Big Timber." Country to the " Crossing." Big Salt Bottom. Flowers. A stranger of other lands. Difficulty with Indians. " Friday." Tedious travelling. No timber. Detention. Country. Pawnee Fork. Mountain and Spanish companies. Spy Buck, the Shawnee war-chief. Pawnee Fork. — Cure for a rattlesnake's bite. Further detention. Sketch of adjacent country. Pawnee Rocks. En route with Friday. Musquetoes. Observations. Friday as a hunter. 287 CHAPTER XXXIV. The Arapaho American, a sketch of real life. Tenets of the mountain Indians in reference to a future state of rewards and punishments. The " water bull." Country between Cow creek and Council Grove. Inviting locatity for settlement. Sudden rise of water. Separate routes. Dangerous travel- ling. Osage village. Osages, and all about them. Arrival at Van Buren, Arkansas. Concluding remarks. 297 SCENES IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, ETC CHAPTER I. Objects of a proposed excursion. — Primary plans and movements. — A digression — Rendezvous for Oregon emigrants and Santa Fe traders. — Sensations on a first visit to the border Prairies. — Frontier Indians. My purpose in visiting the Rocky Mountains, and countries adjacent, having hitherto proved a fruitful source of inquiry to the many persons I meet, when aware of my having devoted three years to travel in those remote regions, and I am so pUed with almost numberless other questions, I know of no better way to dispose of them satisfactorily, than by doing what I had thought of at the outset, to wit : writing a book. But, says one, more books have been already written upon subjects of a kindred nature, than will ever find readers. True, indeed ; yet I must venture one m.ore ; and this much I promise at the start : it shall be different, in most respects, from all that have preceded it ; and if I fail to produce an agreeable variety of adventures, interwoven with a large fund of valuable information, then I shall not have accomplished my purpose. Yet, ' why did I go ? — what was my object ?' Let me explain : Dame Nature bestowed upon me lavishly that innate curiosity, and fondness for things strange and new, of which every one is more or less possessed. Phrenologists would declare my organ of Inquisitiveness to be largely developed ; and, certain it is, 1 have a great liking to tread upon unfre^ quented ground, and mingle among scenes at once novel and romantic. Love of adventure, then, was the great prompter, while an enfeebled state of health sensibly admonished me to seek in other parts that invigorating air and climate denied by the diseased atmosphere of a populous country. I also wished to acquaint myself with the geography of those comparatively unexplored regions, — their geological character, curiosities, resources, and natural advantages, together with their real condition, present inhabitants, inducements \g emigrants, and most favorable localities for settlements, to enable me to speak trom personal knowledge upon subjects so interesting to the public snind, at the present time, as are the above. Here, then, were U RENDEZVOUS OF OREGON Ex^IIGRANTS. objects every way worthy of attention, and vested with an importance that would render my excursion not a mere idle jaunt for the gratification of selfish curiosity. This much by way of prelude, — now to the task in hand. While yet undecided as to the most advisable mode of prosecuting my intended enterprise, on learning that a party of adventurers were rendez- voused at Westport, Mo., preparatory to their long and arduous journey to the new-formed settlements of the Columbia river, I hastened to that place, where I arrived in the month of May, 1841, with the design of becoming one of their number. In this, however, I was doomed to disappointment by being too late. A few weeks subsequent marked the return of several fur companies, from their annual excursions to the Indian tribes inhabiting the regions adjacent to the head-waters of the Platte and Arkansas rivers, whose outward trips are performed in the fall months. Impatient at delay and despairing of a more eligible opportunity, for at least some time to come, I made prompt arrangements with one of tiiem, to accompany it, en route, as far as the Rocky Mountains, intending to proceed thereafter as circum- stances or inclination might suggest. This plan of travelling was adhered to, notwithstanding the detention of some three months, which retarded its prosecution. I would here beg indulgence of the reader to a seeming digression. The peculiar locality of the places to whose vicinity he is now introduced, owing to the deep interest cherished in the public mind relative to the Oregon coun- try, will doubtless call for more than a mere passing notice : I allude to the towns of Independence and Westport. Situated as they are, at the utmost verge of civilization, and upon the direct route to Oregon and regions adja- cent, they must retain and command, as the great starting points for emigrants and traders, that importance already assumed by general consent. Their facilities of access from all parts of the Union, both by land and water, are nowhere exceeded. The proud Missouri rolls its turbid waves within six miles of either place, opening the highway of steam communication, while numberless prime roads that converge from every direction, point to them as their common focus. Thus, the staid New Englander may exchange his na- tive hills for the frontier prairies in the short interval of two weeks ; and in half that time the citizen of the sunny South may reach the appointed ren- dezvous ; and, nearer by, the hardy emigrant may commence his long over- land journey, from his own door, lully supplied with all the necessaries for its successful termination. Independence is the seat of justice for Jackson county. Mo., about four hundred miles west by north of St. Louis, and contains a population of nearly two thousand. Westport is a small town in the same county, near the mouth of the Kansas river, — three miles from the Indian territory, and thirty below the U. S. Dragoon station at Fort Leavenworth. The regular routes to Santa Fe and Oregon date their commencement at these places. The country in this vicinity is beginning to be generally settled by thrifty farmers, from whom all the articles necessary for travellers and traders, may be procured upon reasonable terms. Starting from either of the above points, a short ride bears the adventurer across the state line, and affords him the opportunity of taking his ini- tiatory les&ons amid the realities of prairie life. Here, most of the trading and emigrant companies remain encamped for several weeks, to recruit BORDER-PRAIRIES AND INDIANS. 16 • xyN^S/\^V^^/ "^ their animals and complete the needful arrangements, prior to undertaking the toilsome and dangerous journey before them. The scenery of this neighborhood is truly delightful. It seems indeed like one Nature's favored spots, where Flora presides in all her regal splendor, and with the fragrance of wild flowers, perfumes the breath of spring and lades the summer breeze with willing incense ; — now, sport- ing beside her fountains and revelling in her dales, — then, smiling from her hill-tops, or luxurating beneath her groves. I shall never forget the pleasing sensations produced by my first visit to the border-prairies. It was in the month of June, soon alter my arrival at Westport. The day was clear and beautiful. A gentle shower the pre- ceding night had purified the atmosphere, and the laughing flowerets, newly invigorated from the nectarine draught, seemed to vie with each other in the exhalation of their sweetest odors. The blushing strawberry, scarce yet divested of its rich burden of fruit, kissed my every step. The butter- cup, tulip, pink, violet, and daisy, with a variety of other beauties, unknown to the choicest collections of civilized life, on every side captivated the eye and delighted the fancy. The ground was clothed with luxuriant herbage. The grass, where left uncropped by grazing herds of cattle and horses, had attained a sur- prising growth. The landscape brought within the scope of vision a most magnificent prospect. The groves, clad in their gayest foliage and nodding to the wind, ever and anon, crowned the gentle acclivities or reared their heads from the valleys, as if planted by the hand of art to point the way- farer to Elysian retreats. The gushing fountains, softly breathing their untaught melody, before and on either hand, at short intervals, greeted the ear and tempted the taste. The lark, linnet, and martin, uniting with other feathered songsters, poured forth heir sweetest strains in one grand con- cert, and made the air vocal with their warblings ; and the brown-plumed grouse, witless of the approach of man, till dangerously near, would here and there emerge wellnigh from under foot; and whiz through the air with almost lightning speed, leaving me half frightened at her unlooked for presence and sudden exit. Hither and yon, truant bands of horses and cattle, from the less inviting pastures of the settlements, were seen in the distance, cropping the choice herbage before them, or gambolling in all the pride of native freedom. Amid such scenes I delight to wander, and often, at this late day, will my thoughts return, unbidden, to converse with them anew. There is a charm in the loneliness — an enchantment in the solitude — a witching variety in the sameness, that must ever impress the traveller, when, for the first time, he enters within the confines of the great western prairies. One thing further and I will have done with this digression. Connected with the foregoing, it may not be deemed amiss to say something in relation to the Indian tribes inhabiting the territory adjacent to tiiis common camp- ing-place. The nearest native settlement is some twelve miles distant, and belongs to the Shawnees. This nation numbers in all fourteen or fifteen hundred men, women and children. Their immediate neio-hbors are the Delawares and Wyandotts, — the former claiming a population of eleven hundred, and the latter, three or four hundred. Many connected with these tribes outstrip the nearer whites, in point of civilization and refine-^' 2* 16 PREPARATIONS FOR LEAVING. ment, — excelling them both in honesty and morality, and all that elevates and ennobles the human character. Their wild habits have become in a great measure subdued by the restraining influences of Christianity, and they themselves transformed into industrious cultivators of the soil, — occu- pying neat mansions with smiling fields around them. Nor are they altogether neglectful of the means of education. The mission schools are generally well attended by ready pupils, in no respect less backward than the more favored ones of other lands. It is not rare even, considering the smallness of their number, to meet among them with persons of liberal education and accomplishments. Their mode of dress assimilates that of the whites, though, as yet, fashion has made compara- tively but small inroads. The unsophisticated eye would find prolific source for amusement in the uncouth appearance of their females on public occa- sions. Perchance a gay Indian maiden comes flaunting past, with a huge fur-hat awkwardly placed upon her head, — embanded by broad strips of figured tin, instead of ribbons, — and ears distended with large flattened rings of silver, reaching to her shoulders ; and here another, solely habited in a long woUen under-dress, obtrudes to view, and skips along in all the pride and pomposity of a regular ci^ belle ! Such are sights by no means uncommon. These tribes have a regular civil government of their own, and all laws instituted for the general welfare are duly respected. They are, also, be- coming more temperate in their habits, fully convinced that ardent spirits have hitherto proved the greatest enemy to the red man. The churches of various christain denominations, established among them, are in a flour- ishing condition, and include with their members many whose lives of examplary piety adorn their professions. Taken as a whole, the several Indian tribes, occupying this beautiful and fertile section of country, are living witnesses to the softening and be- nign influences of enlightened christian eflbrt, and furnish indubitable evidence of the susceptibility of the Aborigine for civilization and im- provement. CHAPTER II. Preparations for leaving.— Scenes at Camp.— Things as they appeared.— Simplic- ity of mountaineers. — Sleep in the open air. — Character, habits, and costume of mountaineers. — Heterogeneous ingredients of Company. — The commandant. — En route.— Comical exhibition and adventure with a Spanish company.— Grouse. Elm Grove. — A storm. — Santa Fe traders. — Indian battle. After many vexatious delays and disappointments, the time was at length fixed for our departure, and leaving Independance on the 2d of September, I proceeded to join the encampment without the state line. It was nearly 7iight before I reached my destination, and the camp-fires were already SCENES AT CAMP. 17 lighted, in front of wliicli the officiating cook was busily engaged in prepar- ing the evening repast. To the windward were the dusky forms of ten or fifteen men, — some standing, others sitting a la Turk, and others half- reclining or quietly extended at full length upon the ground, — watching the operative of the culinary department with great seeming interest. Enchairing myself upon a small log, I began to survey the surrounding objects. In the back ground stood four large Connestoga waggons, with ample canvass tops, and one dearborn, all tastefully drawn up in crescent form. To the right a small pyramid-shaped tent, with its snow-white covering, disclosed itself to the eye, and presented an air of comfort. To the left the caravan animals, securely picketed, at regular distances of some fifteen yards apart, occupied an area of several acres. Close at hand a crystal streamlet traced its course, murmuring adown the valley ; and still beyond, a lovely grove waved its branches in the breeze, and contributed its willing mite to enliven and beautify the scene. The camp-fires in front, formed a kind of gateway to a small enclosure, shut in as above described. Here were congregated the company, or at least, that portion of it yet arrived. Some had already spread their easily adjusted couches upon the ground, in readiness for the coming night, and seemed only await- ing supper to forget their cares and troubles in the sweet embrace of sleep. Every thing presented such an air of primitive simplicity not altogether estranged to comfort, I began to think it nowise marvellous that this mode of life should afford such strong attractions to those inured to it. Supper disposed of, the area within camp soon became tenanted by the devotees of slumber, — some snoring away most melodiously, and others conversing in an animated tone, now jovial, now grave, and at intervals, causing the night-air to resound with merry peals of laughter. At length the sleep-god began to assert his wonted supremacy, and silence in some measure reigned throughout camp. The bed of a mountaineer is an article neither complex in its nature nor difficult in its adjustment. A single buffalo robe folded double and spread upon the ground, with a rock, or knoll, or some like substitute for a pillow, furnishes the sole base-work upon which the sleeper reclines, and, envel- oped in an additional blanket or robe, contentedly enjoys his rest. Wishing to initiate myself to the new mode of life before me, I was not slow to imi- tate the example of the promiscuous throng, and the lapse of a few moments found me in a fair way to pass quite pleasantly my first night's repose in the open air. With the first gray of morning-I arose refreshed and invigorated, nor even suffered tlie slightest ill effect from my unusual exposure to a humid and unwholesome night-air. The whole camp, soon after, began to disclose a scene of cheerfulness and animation. The cattle and horses, unloosed from their fastenings, and accompanied by keepers, were again permitted to roam at large, and in a short time were most industriously engaged in administering to the calls of appetite. Afiter breakfast I improved the opportunity to look about and scan more closely the appearance of my coinpagnons de voyage. This opened to view a new field for the study of men and manners. A mountain company generally comprises some quaint specimens of human nature, and, perhaps, few more so than the one to which I here 18 CHARACTER AND COSTrr.IE OF MOUNTAINEERS. introduce the reader. To particularize would exceed my limit?!, nor could I do full justice to the subject in hand by dealing in generalities ; — how- ever, I yield to the latter. There are many crude originals mixed with the prime ingredients of these companies. A genuine mountaineer is a problem hard to solve. He seems a kind of sui genus, an oddity, both in dress, language, and appearance, from the rest of mankind. Associated with nature in her most simple forms by habit and manner of life, he gradually learns to despise the restraints of civilization, and assimilates himself to the rude and unpolished character of the scenes with which he is most conversant. Frank and open in his manners and generous in his disposition, he is, at the same time, cautious and reserved. In his frankness he will allow no one to acquire an undue advantage of him, though in his generosity, he will oftentimes expend the last cent to assist a fellow in need. Implacable in his hatred, he is also steadfast in his friendship, and knows no sacrifice too great for the benefit of those he esteems. Free as the pure air he breathes, and proudly conscious of his own independence, he will neither tyrannize over others, nor submit to be trampled upon, — and is always prepared to meet the perils he may chance to encounter, with an undaunted front. Inured to hardship and deprivation, his wants are few, and he is the last to repine at the misfortunes which so often befall him. Patience becomes as it were interwoven with his very nature, and he sub- mits to the greatest disasters without a murmur. His powers of endurance, from frequent exercise, attain a strength and capacity almost incredible, — such as are altogether unknown to the more delicately nurtured. His is a trade, to become master of which requires a long and faithful apprentice- ship. Of this none seems more conscious than himself, and woe to the ^^ greenhorn" who too prematurely assumes to be "journeyman." His ideas, his arguments, his illustrations, all partake of the unpolished sim- plicity of his associations ; though abounding often in the most vivid imagery, pointed inferences, and luminous expositions, they need a key to make them intelligible to the novice. His dress and appearance are equally singular. His skin, from constant exposure, assumes a hue almost as dark as that of the Aborigine, and his features and physical structure attain a rough and hardy cast. His hair, through inattention, becomes long, coarse, and bushy, and loosely dangles upon his shoulders. His head is surmounted by a low crowned wool-hat, or a rude substitute of his own manufacture. His clothes are of buckskin, gaily fringed at the seams With strings of the same material, cut and made in a fashion peculiar to himself and asso- ciates. The deer and bufTalo furnish hiin the required covering for his feet, which he fabricates at the impulse of want. His waist is encircled with a belt of leather, holding encased his butcher-knife and pistols — w^iile from his neck is suspended a bullet-pouch securely fastened to the belt in front, and beneath the right arm hangs a powder-horn transversely from his shoulder, behind which, upon the strap attached to it, are affixed his bullet- mould, ball-screw, wij)er, awl, &c. With a gun-stick made of some hard wood, and a good rifle placed in his hands, carrying from thirty to thirty-five balls to the pound, the reader will have before him a correct like- ness of a genuine mountaineer, when fully equipped. This costume nrevails not only in the inountain^^ proper, but also in the THE COMMANDANT. 19 less settled portions of Oregon and California. The mountaineer is his own manufacturer, tailor, shoemaker, and butcher; and, fully accoutred and sup- plied with ammunition in a good game country, he can always feed and clothe himself, and enjoy all the comforts his situation affords. No wonder, then, his proud spirit, expanding with the intuitive knowledge of noble inde- pendence, becomes devotedly attached to those regions and habits that per- mit him to stalk forth, a sovereign amid nature's lovliest works. Our company, however, were not all mountaineers ; some were only " entered apprentices," and others mere ■' greenhorns " — taking every thing into consideration, perhaps, it was quite as agreeably composed as circum- stances would well admit of. In glancing over the crowd, I remarked several countenances sinister and malign, but consented to suspend judg- ment till the character of each should be proven by his conduct. Hence, in the succeeding pages, I shall only speak of characters as I have occa- sion to speak of men. As a whole, the party before me presented a choice collection of local varieties, — here was the native of France, of Canada, of England, of Hudson Bay, of Connec icut, of Pennsylvania, of New York, of Kentucky, of Illinois, of Missouri, and of the Rocky Mountains, all congregated to act in unison for a specitied purpose. It m'ght well require the pencil of Hogarth to picture such a motley group. Our company had not as yet attained its full numercial strength ; a smaJl division of it was some distance in advance, another behind, and at least two days would be necessary to complete the arrangenlents prior to leaving. The idea of spending two days in camp, notwithstanding the beauty of its location, was by no means agreeable ; but as the case was beyond remedy, I quietly submitted, and managed to while away the tedious interval as best I could. A brief acquaintance with our commandant, found him a man of small stature and gentlemanly deportment, though savoring somewhat of arro- gance and self-sufficiency, — faults, by the way, not uncommon in little men. He had been engaged in the Indian trade for several years past, and had seen many " ups and downs " in former life. Graduating from West Point in his younger days, he soon after received the commission of Lieutenant of Dragoons, in the U. S. Army, and served in that capacity for some six or eight years, on the frontier and at Forts Gibson and Leaven- worth. Possessed of the confidence of his men, his subsequent resignation was the occasion of much regret with those he had been accustomed to command. The private soldier loved him for his generous frankness and readiness to overlook minor offences, even upon the first show of peni- tence. Such unbounded popularity at length excited the jealousy of his brother officers, and gave birth to a combination against him. which nothing could appease short of his removal from the army. Aware of his ardent tem- perament and strong party notions as a politician, and equally violent upon the opposite side, they managed to inveigle him into a discussion of the measures and plans of the then administration of national affairs. Argu- ing in the excitement of feeling, lie made use of an unguarded expression, denouncing the Chief Magistrate. This was immediately noted down, and charges were promptly preferred against him, for " abuse nf a superior officer I^^ The v\hole affair was tiien referred to a Court Martial, composed 20 COMICAL APPEARANCE OF A MEXICAN COMPANY. exclusively of political opponents. The evidence was so strong he had little to expect from their hands, and consequently threw up his commission, to avert the disgrace of being cashiered, since which he has been engaged in his present business. He appeared to be a man of general information, and well versed in science and literature. Indeed, I felt highly gratified in making an acquain- tance so far congenial to my own taste. An accession of two waggons and four men having completed our number, the morning of September 4th was ushered in with the din of preparations for an immediate start. The lading of the waggons was then severally overhauled and more compactly adjusted, and our arms were depos- ited with other freight until such time as circumstances should call for them. All was hurry and confusion, and ofttimes the sharp tone of angry dispute arose above the jargon of the tumultuous throng. At length the word was given to advance, and in an instant the whole caravan was in motion ; those disconnected with the waggons, mounted upon horseback, led the van, followed by the teams and their attendants in Indian file, as the loose cattle and horses brought up the rear. The scene to me portrayed a novelty quite amusing. I began to think a more comical- looking set could scarcely be found any where ; but the events of the day soon convinced me of my mistake. Travelling leisurely along for some six or eight miles, strange objects were seen in the distance, which, on nearer approach, proved a company of Mexican traders, on their way to Independence for an equipment of goods. As they filed past us, I had full scope for the exercise of my risibilities. If a mountaineer and a mountain company are laughable objects, a Mexican and a Mexican company are triply so. The first thing that excites attention upon meeting one of this mongrel race, is his ludicrous apology for pantaloons. This is generally made of deer or buflTalo skin, similar to our present fashion, except the legs, which are left unsewed from the thigh downwards ; a loose pair of cotton drawers, cut and made in like manner, and worn beneath, imparts to his every movements a most grotesque appear- ance, leaving at each step of the wearer his denuded leg, with that of his pantaloons on one side, and drawers on the other, fluttering in the breeze ! The next thing that meets the gaze, is his black, slouching, broad-brimmed hat, {sombrero,) though little darker than the features it obscures, and far less so than the coarse, jet-colored hair that protrudes from beneath it, and falls confusedly upon his shoulders. Next, if the weather tolerates the habit, a coarse parti-colored blanket {charape) envelopes the body, from his shoulders downwards, fixed to its place by an aperture in the centre through which the head is thrust, and securely girted at pleasure by a waist-band of leather. His arms, if arms he has, consist of a rude bow and arrows slung to his back, or an old fusee, not unfrequently without flint, lock, or ammunition ; but doubly armed, and proudly, too, is he who can carry a good rifle with powder and lead — even if he he ignorant of their use. Thus appearing, these creatures, some mounted upon mules, with heavy spurs attached to their heels, (bearing gafl^s an inch and a half in length, jin- gling in response to the rolhng motions of the wearer,) ensconced in bungling {Spanish saddles, (finished with such ample leather skirts as almost hid the diminutive animal that bore them, and large wooden stirrups, some tliree WAGON TllAIN.— Ptf,s-e QO. THE NEW YGHK PUBLIC LI3K Ah A-STOR, Lr,NC)C AfU tmmmKtmm i -■-^sef A STORM. 21 inches broad,) were riding at their ease ; while others, half naked, were trudging along on foot, driving their teams, or following the erratic mulea of the caravan, to heap upon them the ready maledictions of their prolific vocabulary. Passing on, we were accosted : " Como lo pasa, cabelleros ?" The salutation was returned by a simple nod. " Habla la lengua Espanola, senors ?" A shake of the head was the only response. " Es esta el camino de Independenca ?" No reply. " Carraho ! Que quantos jornadas tenemos en la camino de Indepen- denca ?" Still no one answered. " Scha ! Maldijo tualmas ! Los Americanos esta dijabelo !" By this time the crowd had passed and left us no longer annoyed by its presence. The conclusion irresistibly forced itself upon my mind, " if these are true specimens of Mexicans, it is no wonder they incite both the pity and contempt of the rest of the world." Subsequent intercourse with them, however, has served to convince me that first impressions, in this case, instead of exceeding the reality, fell far short of the true mark ! Continuing our course, we saw large numbers of prairie-hens, and suc- ceeded in killing several. These birds assimilate the English grouse in appearance, and are of. a dusky-brown color, — with short tails, and narrow- peaked wings, — and little less in size than the domestic fowl. Their flesh is tender and of superior flavor. When alarmed, they start with a cack- ling noise, and whiz through the air not unlike the partridge. They are very numerous on the frontier prairies, and extend to the Rocky Moun- tains, Oregon, California and New Mexico. About sundown we reached a small creek known as Elm Grove, and encamped for the night, with every indication of an approaching storm. Strict orders were accordingly given for securing the animals, and the process of "picketing" was speedily under way. This consisted in driving small stakes ("pickets") firmly into the ground, at proper dis- tances apart, to which the animals were severally tied by strong cords, — a plan that should find nightly practice among all travellers of the grand prairies, to prevent those losses which, despite the utmost precaution, wiU not unfrequently occur. Timber proved quite scarce in this vicinity, and it was with great difficulty we procured sufficient for cooking purposes. The men now began to prepare for the coming storm. Some disposed of themselves in, and others under, the waggons, making barricades to the windward ; others erected shantees, by means of slender sticks, planted in parallel rows five or six feet apart, and interwoven at the tops, so as to form an arch of suitable height, over which was spread a roofage of robes or blankets, — while others, snugly ensconced beneath the ready pitched tent, bade de- fiance to wind and weather. Being one of those selecting a place under the waggons, I retired at an early hour to snooze away the night ; and despite the anticipations of an unpleasant time, I soon lost myself in a sweet slumber, utterly uncon- scious of every thing around me. In thoughts I wandered back to the 22 AN INDIAN BATTLE. home of my childhood, to converse with friends whose names and features fond memory has chained to my heart, while imagination roamed with delight amid those scenes endeared to me by earliest and most cherished recollections. But all the sweet pencillings of fancy were at once spoiled by the uncivil intrusion of a full torrent of water, that came pouring from the hill-side and forced its impetuous way into the valley below, — deluging me from head to foot in its descent. My condition, as the reader may well suppose, was far from being enviable. However, resolved to make the best of a bad thing, after wringing the water from my drenched bed- ding, I selected another spot and again adjusted myself to pass the dreary interval till morning ; this I succeeded in doing, — how or in what man- ner, it is unnecessary to say. Sleep was utterly out of the question, and I am quite sure I never hailed the welcome morn with greater delight than on this occasion. Others of the company fared almost as bad as myself, and there was scarcely a dry bed in camp. But the little concern evinced by the moun- taineers for their mishap, surprised me most. They crawled from their beds, reeking with wet, as good humoredly as though their nocturnal bath had in no wise disturbed their equanimity, or impaired their comfort. The morning proved so disagreeable two of our party, who were accompa- nying us for the purpose of adventure, concluding this a kind of adventure they were unwilling to meet, wisely resolved to take the back track, and accordingly left for home. Towards night the rain ceased, and, the clouds having dispersed, we were again en route. Travelling on till late, we encamped in the open prairie, and early the next morning resumed our course. Having reached a small creek, about 10 o'clock, we halted for breakfast, Avhere another Santa Fe company came up. This proved a party of Americans, with some six or eight waggons and a large number of horses and mules, on their homeward journey. They had also in their possession an elk nearly full grown, two black-tailed deer,* an antelope and a white-tailed fawn. Through them we received intelligence of a battle recently fought be- tween the Pawnee and Arapaho Indians, at the lower Cimarone Springs, south of the Arkansas. The former had been defeated with greai slaughter, — losing their horses and seventy-two of their bravest war- riors, to increase the trophies and enliven the scalp-dances of their ene- mies. This action occurred directly upon the Santa Fe trail, and the dead yet bestrewed the prairie, as our informants passed, half devoured by wolves, and filling the air with noisome stench as they wasted beneath the influence of a scorching sun. An approving murmur ran through the crowd while listening to the re- cital, and all united to denounce the Pawnees as a dangerous and villan- ous set, and wished for their utter extermination. * The black-tailed deer are larger than the common deer, and are found only in the snow-mountains. For a description of them the reader is referred to subsequent pages. 23 CHAPTER III. The Pottowatomies.— Crossiiig the Wakarousha.— Adventure at the Springs.— Tlie Caw chief.— Kansas river and Indians.— Pleading for whiskey. — Hickory timber. — Prairie tea. — Scenes at the N. Fork of Blue. — Wild honey.— Return party.— Mountaineers in California. — Adventure wilh a bufTalo.— Indian atrocilies.— Liquor and the Fur Trade. — Strict guard. — High prices. Continuing our course, we bore to tlie r'glit, and struck the northern or Platte trail, and, after travelling eight or ten miles, made camp upon a small creek skirted with heavy timber, called Black Jack. An early start the next morning brought us to the Wakarousha, a considerable tributary of the Kansas, where a junction was formed with our advance party. The territory lying upon this stream as far south as Council Grove, (a noted place on tlie Mexican trail, 144 miles west from Independence,) belongs to the Pottowatomies. These Indians are very wealthy and are partially civihzed, — the most of them being tillers of the ground. Their dwellings are of very simple construction, — large strips of bark firmly tied to a frame-work of poles with small apertures to admit light, furnishing the ex- terior, while the interior is finished by the suspension of two or three blankets between the apartments, as partitions, and erecting a few scafiblds for bedsteads. The fire-place in warm weather is out of doors, but in the winter it occupies the centre of the building, from wliich the smoke — unaided by jamb or chimney — is left to find its way through an opening in the roof. Some, however, are beginning to improve in their style of architecture, and now and then we fiiid a tolerably spacious and comforta- ble house among them. The Catholics have several missionaries with this tribe, and are using great exertions, if not to ameliorate their condition, at least, to proselyte them to their own peculiar faith. The missionaries of other christian denominations are also devoting themselves for their benefit, and not un- frequently with gratifying success. The remainder of the day was occupied in crossing the creek — a task by no means easy, — its banks being so precipitous w^e were compelled to lower our waggons by means of ropes. In so doing it required the utmost caution to prevent them from oversetting or becoming broken in the ab- rupt descent. The night following was passed upon the opposite bank. After travel- ling some twelve miles the next day, w^e encamped a short distance to the right of the trail, at a place known as the Springs. Scarcely had we halted when two footmen appeared from an opposite direction — one of them leading a horse — whom a nearer advance proved to be a white man and an Indian. The former was immediately recognized by our engages as an old acquaintance, by the name of Brow'n, who had been their recent compagnon de voyage from the mountains. His story was soon told. A few days subsequent to his arrival in the States, a difficulty had occurred 24 KANSAS INDIANS. between him and another person, who received a severe wound from a knife by the hand of Brown during the aJEfray, when the latter was ne- cessitated to consult his own safety by a hurried flight He accordingly bade farewell both to enemies and law, and left for the Indian country — travelling most of the way by night. Two weeks afterwards he arrived in the Kansas nation, and remained with the Indian now accompanying him, to await our return. Having listened to his story, I began to survey his strange companion. He was a village chief of the Kansas (Caw) tribe, and the first of his race I had ever seen so nearly dressed in his native costnme. In person he was tali and stout-built, — with broad shoulders and chest, brawny arms and legs, and features evincing the uncontaminated blood of the Aborigi- ne. His hair was closely shaved to the scalp, with the exception of a narrow tuft centrewise from forehead to crown, so trimmed it stood on end like the bristles of a warring hog; then his whole head and face were so lavishly bedaubed with vermilion, our experienced city belles would doubt- less have considered it an unpardonable waste of that useful material! A string of bears '-claws, tastefully arranged, encircled his neck, while ample folds of brass wire above the wrists and elbows furnished his armil- lary, and from his ears hung rude ornaments, — some of silver, others of brass or iron — cruelly distending the flexible members that bore them. A dirty white blanket drawn closely around the shoulders enveloped the body, which, with a breech-cloth and leggins, formed his sole covering. A bow and arrows, slung to his back by a strap passing over the left shoul- der and under the rigiit arm, were his only weapons. A belt, begirting the waist, sustained his tobacco-pouch and butcher-knife, and completed his attire and armament. Thus habited appeared before us the Caw chief, holding in one hand the lead-rope of his horse, and in the other the wing of a wild turkey, with a a long-stemmed pi pe, carved from a hard red stone, handsomely wrought and flnely polished. Taken altogether, he presented an amusing spectacle — a real curiosity. Having shaken hands with the company and turned his horse to graze, in a few moments his pipe was subjected to its destined use, and, as the inhaled iumes merrily curved from his mouth and nostrils, he ever and anon pre- sented it for the indulgence of the bystanders. His knowledge of English was limited to the simple monosyllable " good," which he took occasion to pronoujice at intervals as he thought proper. !Sept. 8lh. Continuing on, we encamped towards night at a small creek within six miles of the crossing of the Kansas river. Here a bevy of our chief's villagers, rigged in their rude fashion, came flocking up, apparently to gratify their curiosity in gazing at us, but really in expectation of some trifling presents, or in quest of a favorable opportunity for indulging their mate propensities for theft. However, they found little encourage- ment, as the vigilance of our guards more than equalled the cunning of our visitors. During their sta.y we were frequently solicited for donations of tobacco and ammun.tion. (as they expressed it,) in payment ibr passing through their country. Tins was individually demanded with all the assu- rance of government revenue ofhcers, or the keepers of regular toll-bridges, strongly reminding one of the petty nations upon the border2 of Canaan, PLEADING FOll WHISKEY. 26 that required tribute of the Israelites passing- through them to possess the land of their forefathers. Sept. 9/h. Early in the forenoon we came to the Kansas, and wore em- ployed till nearly ni(»ht in eflectino- a ford. This proved rather dilficuit, as the water was deep and the bottom sandy ; — the course, bearing directly across, till near midway of the river, follows the current for six or eight hundred yards, and then turns abruptly to the opposite shore. The Kansas, at the crossing, was not far from six hundred yards wide, with steep banks of clay and sand. The fording accomplished, we travelled some six miles, and encamped for the night. Our visitors yet honored us with their pres- ence ; some, under pretence of trading horses ; others, of bartering for tobacco, whiskey, coffee, and ammunition ; but most of them for tlie real purpose of begging and stealing. The Caw Indians are a branch of the Osage tribe — speaking the same language, and identified by the same manners and customs. They num- ber a population of sixteen hundred, and claim all the territory west of the Delaware, Shawnee, and Pottowatomie line, to the head waters ot tlie Kansas. Their main village is on the left bank of the river, a few miles above the crossing. Their houses are built Pawnee fashion, being coni- form and covered with a thick coat of dirt, presenting a hole at the apex to emit the smoke, and another at the side to serve the double purpose of a door and window. The whole building describes a complete circle, in whose centre is placed the hearth-fire, and at the circumference the couches of its inmates. Its floor is the bare ground, and its ceiling the grass, brush, and poles which uphold the superincumbent earth forming the roof and sides. The Caws are generally a lazy and slovenly people, raising but little corn, and scarcely any vegetables. For a living they depend mostly upon the chase. Their regular hunts are in the summer, fall, and winter, at which time they all leave for the buffalo range, and return laden with a full supply of choice provisions. The robes and skins thus obtained, furnish their clothing and articles for traffic. ... As yet, civilization has made but small advances among them. Some, however, are tolerably well educated, and a Protestant mission established with them, is beginning its slow but successful operations for their good, — while two or three families of half-breeds, near by, occupy neat houses, and have splendid farms and improvements, thus affording a wholesome contrast to the poverty and misery of their rude neighbors. The distance from Independence to this place, by the mountain trail, is some eighty miles, over a beautiful and fertile country, which I shall here- after take occasion to notice more fully. Before leaving, we were further increased by the accession of two Canadian xoijageurs — French of course. Our force now numbered some twenty-four — one sufficiently formidable for all the dangers of the route. Sept. lOtli. Resuming our way, we proceeded till late at night, still attended by our Indian friends ; (not the originals, but a " few more of the same sort," who kindly supplied their places, — seeking to levy fresh drafts upon patience and generosity.) These vi^ere more importunate for liquor than any preceding them — though, in fact, the whole nation is nowise remiss in their devotion to King Alcohol. One fellow, in particular, exhausted all his 26 SCENES AT NORTJI FORK OF BLUE. ingenuity to obtain the wherewith to " wet his whistle.^^ He was a shriv- el-faced old man, and occasioned much sport, fi-om his supphcations in broken English, which ran pretty much as follows : " Big man, me. Chief, — Black Warrior. Me, American soldier ! Love Americans, heap. Big man, me ! Love whiskey, heap. White man good. Whiskey good. Love whiskey, me, — drink heap whiskey. No give me whiskey drink ? Me, Chief. Me, American. Me, Black War- rior. Heap big man, me ! Love Americans. Take him hand, shake. White man good. Whiskey good. Me love whiskey ! Love him heap ! No give Black Warrior whiskey ? No ? — one leetle drink ? Whiskey good. Me love him. Make Black Warrior strong. Big man, me, — Chief. American soldier. Me love American. Shake him hand. Fight him, bad Indian, no love white man. Kill him. White man good. Me love white man. Whiskey good. Me love whiskey. No give Black Warrior whiskey, — one leetle drink ? Me, Chief. Big man, me." Etc. In this strain the old fellow continued so long as he found listeners, but without success, although, as I afterwards learned, two waggons were freighted with the noxious article ; none of it was suffered to find its way down the throats of our thirsty guests. Pursuing a westerly course, nearly parallel with the Kansas, for three successive days, we passed the 14th encamped at Big Vermilion, for the purpose of procuring a quantity of hickory for gun-sticks and bow-timber. Hickory is unknown to the Rocky Mountains, and this being the last place on the route affording it, each of our company took care to provide himself with an extra gun-stick. Small pieces, suitable for bows, find market among the mountain Indians, ranging at the price of a robe each, while gun-sticks command one dollar apiece, from the hunters and trap- pers. We were also careful to provide an extra quantity of ox-bows, axle-trees, &c., as a resource in case of accidents or breakage. These are articles with which every caravan should be furnished on a journey across the grand prairies. In this vicinity a species of shrub, which I had before noticed in various places, (designated as "red-root" by ourvoyageurs,) became quite abundant. The red-root is highly esteemed as a substitute for tea, and my own expe- rience attests its superiority of flavor to any article of that kind imported from China. In appearance it is very similar to the tea of commerce, and it affords at all times a most excellent beverage. It is found only upon the prairies between the frontiers and Big Blue, and in some portions of tlie Rocky Mountains. Leaving Big Vermilion, we travelled rapidly the two days subsequent, and arrived at the North Fork of Blue, — a large and deep stream, tributary to the Kansas. We were here detained till the 24th — the creek being im- passable on account of high water. However, the beauty of the place and variety of its landscape scenery, served in a great measure to alleviate the weariness of delay. The coun- try was most agreeably interspersed with hills, uplands, and dales — amply watered and variegated with woods and prairies, attired in all the gaudy loveliness of wild-flowers. The busy bee, afraid of the cruel persecutions of man, had here sought a secure retreat to pursue, unmolested, her ADVENTURE WITH A BUFFALO. 27 melliferous employ, and fill the dark chambers of her oaken palaces year by year with lioneycd store.^. The air was almost vocal with the music of her wings, and the flowerets were enlivened by the gentle touches of her embrace. The odor of honey filled the breeze, whicli, wafting the mingled melody of birds and insects with the incense of flowers, o'er the smiling prairie till lost in space, seemed more like the breath of Eden than the exhalations of earth. As might be supposed, we were not slow in levying npon the delicious stores, which the industrious insects, claiming this as their dominion, had laid away for themselves. During our stay no less tlian four bee-trees were levelled, and every pan, kettle, pail, keg, or empty dish in the whole camp was filled to overflowing, and every stomach to repletion, with honey of almost crystalline transparency. The great abundance of deer, turkey, and other game in the vicinity, also contributed their share of amusement, and enlivened the interval of detention. At length, by a partial subsidence of the water, we were enabled to efTect a crossing and renew our journey. Pursuing a course \V. N. W., on the 27th we met a small party of whites on their return from the mountains, and, yielding.to the temptation presented by a luxuriant and well-wooded valley, with a pretty streamlet, the two parties made common camp. Our new acquaintances were taking a large drove of horses, and several do- mesticated bufialo, with them to the States. Their horses had been mostly obtained from Upper California, the year previous, by a band of mountain- eers, under the lead of one Thompson. This band, numbering twenty-two in all, had made a descent upon the Mexican ranchos and captured between two and three thousand head of horses and mules. A corps of some sixty Mexican cavalry pursued and attacked them, but were defeated and pursued in turn, with the loss of several mules and their entire camp equipage : after which the adventurers were permitted to regain their mountain homes, without further molestation ; but, in passing the cheerless desert, between the Sierra Nevada and Colorado, the heat, dust, and thirst were so in- tolerably oppressive, that full one half of their animals died. The remain- der, however, were brought to rendezvous, and variously disposed of, to suit the wants and wishes of their captors. The bufTalo, in possession of our wayfaring friends, had been caught while calves, and reared by domestic cows. They appeared as tame and easily managed as other cattle. One of them, a two-year-old heifer, was rather vicious in its habits, having been spoiled, while a calf, by the too great familiarity of its keeper. After listening to a full exposition of its bad qualities, our commandant offered to bet he could handle, or even ride, the unruly beast at pleasure. •' Can you ?" said the owner. " Do it, and my best horse is yours !" " I take all such ofters!" returned the commandant. "A horse could not be easier earned !" he continued, stepping towards the ill-tutored ani- mal. " Come, boss ! — Poor boss ! — bossy, bossy !" addressing the buff do, w^hich commenced advancing, — at first slowly, then, with a sudden bound, ran full tilt against the admirer, leaving him prostrate upon the ground, as it turned away, dancing and tU-owing its heels exultingly at the exploit. "Bless my stars !" he exclaimed, on recovering himself; "I'd no idea 'twould serve me sol" 3=^ 28 LIQUOR AND THE FUR TRADE. "Ha, ha. ha!" retorted the owner. " You seem to pick upon a strange place for a snooze ! What in the world were you doing before that skittish beast ?" The roar of laughter which followed, told how well the joke was relished by the crowd. Reports from the mountains brought intelligence of recent difficulties between the whites and Sioux, — the latter having murdered several trap- pers. A battle had also been fought in the Snake country, in which the Sioux were defeated with a loss of twenty killed and wounded, — the whites suffered in the loss of their leader (Frapp) and four others. Another affair had come off, at Fort Platte, between two factions of that tribe, while on a drunken spree, resulting in the death of Schena-Chischille, their chief, and several of his party. The most acceptable item of intelligence was the probability of our reaching the buffalo range in ten days, at least, where we should find vast quantities of those animals. This led our voyagcurs to expatiate anew upon the choice varieties of the feast of good things we might expect on that occasion. Bidding adieu to our transient camp-mates, we were soon again en route. The day following, being unfit for travel, was devoted to overhauling and re-adjusting the freight of the waggons. Here, for the first time, I ascer- tained the fact, that a portion of the above consisted of no less than Iwentij-four barrels of alcohol, designed for the Indian trade ! This announcement may occasion surprise to many, when aware that the laws of Congress prohibit, under severe penalties, the introduction of liquor among the Indians, as an article of traffic, — subjecting the of- fender to a heavy fine and confiscation of effects. Trading companies, however, find ways and means to smuggle it through, by the waggon-load, under the very noses of government officers, stationed along the frontiers to enforce the observance of laws. I am irresistibly led to the conclusion, that these gentry are wilfully neg- ligent of their duty ; and, no doubt, there are often weighty inducements presented to them to shut their eyes, close their ears, and avert their faces, to let the guilty pass unmolested. It seems almost impossible that a blind man, retaining the senses of smell, taste and hearing, could remain igno- rant of a thing so palpably plain. The alcohol is put into waggons, at Westport or Independence, in open day-light, and taken into the territory, in open day light, where it remains a week or more awaiting the arrival of its owners. Two Government 'agents reside at Westport, while six or eight companies of Dragoons are stationed at Fort Leavenworth, ostensibly for the purpose of protecting the Indians and suppressing this infamous traffic, — and yet it suffers no diminution from their vigilance! What faithful public officers ! How prompt in the discharge of their whole duty ! These gentlemen cannot plead ignorance as an excuse. They well know that alcohol is one of the principal articles in Indian trade — this fact IS notorious — no one pretends to deny it; not even the traders themselves — and yet, because no one takes the trouble to produce a specimen of the Idnd of freight taken, more or less, by all mountain companies, and fokce them to see, taste^ touch, and smell, they affect ignorance ! It is thus the HIGH PRICES. 29 benevolent designs of our Government are consummated by these pension- ers upon the pubhc treasury ! Had they the will so to do, it would be no difficult matter to put a stop to all such exportations. The departure of any one of these companies for the mountains, is a thing too difticult to be effected unknown and stealthily. It becomes public talk for days and even weeks previous. Scarcely anything would be easier than for those whose business it is, to keep on the look out, and enforce the law to its full extent upon each of- fender. A few examples of this kind would interpose an insuperable bar- rier to the further prosecution of an illicit traffic in tbe manner it is at present carried on. A few faithful public officers, and attentive to their duty, regardless of fear or favor, would soon accompUsh an object so de- sirable. In subsequent pages of this work I shall have occasion to notice a few of the many evils resulting from this criminal neglect, — but at present forbear further remarks. Our arms were now put in order for immediate use, — each individual ap- portioning to himself a good supply of ammunition, to be ready at all times in case of attack. Guards were ordered to be constantly on the alert. The company was divided into two parties, — (me for day and the other for night guard, and these again were subdivided fur alternate reheves, — thus, one of each subdivision serving a day and a night, and the reserve the day and night succeeding. The day-guard consisted of only two persons, upon duty every other day, but the night-guard numbered ten, — two being on duty for two hours were then reheved by the two next in succession, and they by the next, and so on. Strict orders were also given to prevent any from leaving camp, or part- ing from the caravan while travelling. In fact, every thing began to as- sume a warlike aspect, as if we were really in danger and apprehensive of an immediate rencounter. Several boxes of clothing, &-C., were also opened for such as wished to purchase. But every article disposed of was sold at an enormous rate: tobacco bringing from one to three dollars per lb., according to quality; butcher-knives, from one dollar to one tifty each; hose, one dollar per pair; shirts, from three to five dollars each, according to quality; blank- ets, from twelve to sixteen dollars ; coats, from fifteen to forty dollars; coarse shoes, four dollars per pair ; six-penny calicoes, fifty cts. per yd.; beads, one dollar per bunch, etc. These were of an indifferent quality, and afforded the vender some three or four hundred per cent, advance upon purchase-price. In fact, with regard to prices, conscience had no- thino- to do with the matter. 80 CHAPTER IV. Country from the frontiers to Big Blue, its geological character, &c. — Novel cure for fever and ague. — Indian trails. — Game. — Sage rabbits. — Antelope, and their }«'- culiarities. — Beaver cuttings. — Big Blue and its vicinity. — Dangerous country. — Pawnee bravery. — Night-alarrn, (Prairies on fa-e.) — Platte river.- -Predominant characteristics of the Grand Prairies, and theory explanatory of their phenome- non.— Something to laugh at. — " Big Jhn," and the antelope. Se-pt. '2QLh. We are now camped upon a small creek, nearly destitute of timber, within two miles of Big Blue, or the N. W. branch of the Kansas river. The geography of this part of the country is incorrectly doscribod upon all the published maps I have yet seen. The Republican Fork, which is the principal branch of the Kansas, is uniformly represented as the most northwesterly branch of that river, forming a junction with it at or below the usual crossing. This is not the case. The two forks of Blue, from the northwest, united, form a large and important stream, which, according to my impression, discharges its waters into the Kansas itself, and not into the Republican. Of this, however, I am not quite positive. But be that as it may, admitting the Republican to bo the main stream, Big Blue must be, as a matter of course, the most northwesterly branch of the Kansas river. Proceeding up the Blue, the geological character of the country under- goes an entire and radical change, and the traveller is introduced to a diirer- ent order of things from that previously observed. Perhaps, therefore, it is not out of place to present a general review of the territory thus far. The interval from the frontier of Missouri to Big Blue, a distance up- wards of two hundred miles, affords grea.t uniformity in all its more promi- nent characteristics. It generally comprises beautifully undulating prai- ries, of a moist argillaceous soil, rich in sedimentary deposites and vege- table matter. It is somewhat rocky in places, but well watered by the almost innumerable streams that tind their wav into the Kansas, Platte and Arkansas rivers. The creeks, with but few exceptions, are hea\ily timbered with oak, hickory, walnut, maple, Cottonwood, and other varieties found in more eastern forests. The hills too, in some parts, are more titan usually abundant in springs, and covered with stately groves, as taste- fully arranged as if planted by the hand of man, while luxuriant grass and fragrant flowers usurp the place of underbrush. The prairies, hem- med in on every side by the woodlands skirting the water-courses, present to the eye proud oceans of ilowory verdure, tossing their wavelets to the breeze and perfuming the air with tlie breath of spring. Tiie streams are clear, with rocky or pebbly bottoms and high, steep banks — abounding in choice specimens of the tinny tribes and varieties of the testaceous order, of \\\e lace, and dcatli claimed him for a victim. He expired in the presence of those whom the good chief had called to his bed-side; — but, before his tongue refused to speak, he con- fessed the murder of Brady, and owned the justice of his punishment in all the untold miseries he had been compelled to endure. " Vengeance is mine, and I will repay it, saith the Lord!" On resuming our journey the road gradually bore towards the hills upon the left, (which presented an outhne of conical eminences, rising, as the traveller advances, to an elevation of four or five hundred feet,) and finally crossed them at the point of an angle formed near the confluence of the two great forks of the Platte, upon the east side ; from thence, descending to the opposite bottom, we reached a timberless spring and made camp soon after nightfall. The lack of wood at this place was readily met by the great abun- dance of hois de vache, (bufluio-chips,) the common substitute of the prairies ; and, in a brief interval, the camp-fires were merrily blazing, with all the appliances of cookery about them. Early the next morning, our hunter rejoined the caravan, bringing with him the spoils of two more cows. He had passed the night upon the prairie alone, without coat or blanket, or anything to screen him irom the bleak autumn winds, that swept over the naked plains, dancing their dirges to tlie dying year. The sky gave evidence of an approaching storm, and we hastily started in quest of some more sheltered spot in which to weather it. A few miles brought us to the river, and, availing ourselves of a small supply of drift wood, we made halt. The combustibles the vicinity afforded were soon collected, and the camp- fires imparted their generous warmth despite the falling rain. Nor were they permitted to remain long unembellished by the numerous kettles, frying-pans, and roasting-sticks at command. I here enjoyed full test of some of the many varieties of mountain fare hitherto so freely enlarged upon by our voyageurs, — which, as they now asserted, would make a man " shed rain like an otter, and stand cold like a polar bear !" — quaintly adding, " if he could always live upon such ' didins,' he need never dief I must in justice confess that the real merits of our present " bill of fare," by far exceeded my previous expectations. The rain continued till near night ; but little did we care. The choicest the prairie afForded, was now before us, and, rain or shine, we were con- tented. Sound in health and buoyant hi spirits, we fully enjoyed ourselves, despite the Crowning elements. A little before sundown, the rain subsided into a thick fog, and an old bull, in the consequent obscurity, straggled close upon camp. The abrupt passage of a rifle-ball tJirough his lights, was his Grst feeling sense of the presence of danger. The affrighted customer then retreated a few steps, and, falling, surrendered himself to the resistless power of cold lead. A large band of cows also made their appearance, in the same manner, and our hunter struck out to waylay them. 46 STRANGE INFATUATION. Permitting the unwitting animals to advance within good shooting dis- tance, a discharge from his rifle brought down one of their number. The band then recoiled slightly ; but, snufting the odor of blood, they returned immediately to their prostrate companion. This was enough, — a charm now riveted them to the spot, — a strange infatuation had seized upon them. 1'hey began by spurning the ground with their feet, — then, bellowing, gored the fallen beast, as if forcing her to rise, — then, rolling upon the grass, in demonstrative sympathy, — and, now that she had ceased to struggle and lay yet quivering in death, they licked her bleeding wounds and seemed to exercise a kind of mournful rivalry in the bestowment of their testimonials of aflection. She is encircled by her companions. An efl"ort to approach from without is resisted by those within. A fight ensues, and all becomes confusion. Each turns against her neighbor, and continues the strife till the space around the carcase is again vacated ; whereupon a general rush once more centers to the spot, and all unite to react the former scene. In this manner they persisted in their frenzied devotion to the fallen one, as if determined to restore her to life and action, or perish by her side. Meanwhile the hunter's rifle had been busily employed. But they heeded it not. Four more of their number lay gasping in death upon the en- sanguined ground ; and still they seemed no more disposed to leave the scene of slaughter than at first. Sixteen successive shots were fired, each bearing blood, wounds and death, and yet the spell was no nearer broken. It was a spectacle vested with melancholy animation. The pawing, goring, bellowing, licking of wounds, and struggles of rival aflTection, re- mained the same, with no visible abatement of their vehemency. The sun had set, and the sable hue of twilight empalled the blood-dank slaughter-ground. The death-dealing rifle had ceased its sharp crack, and the gore-scenting wolves, half starved and eager for their supposed prey, came flocking upon every side, mingling their wobegone howlings with the piteous moans of the spell-bound herd, and the loud whistlings of the prairie winds, — and yet, they lingered. At last the impatient hunter advanced. More afTrighted at the presence of man than the companionship of death, they now gave way, and reluc- tantly left the field to him, who had so unfeelingly occasioned their burthen of mourning and woe ; — still, ever and anon stopping to gaze, as if longing to return and die with those they loved ! All hands were now summoned to aid at the work of butchery ; but the fast-enshrouding darkness soon drove us back to camp, leaving the task not half completed. Our withdrawal from the premises was the signal for possession by the eager wolves, whose ceaseless yelpings the livelong night, made the gloomy interval doubly dismal. By morning, nothing but bones and thick pieces of skin marked the scene of their recent revellings ! Thus early, I had learned, that to approach buffalo with success, the hunter should carefully maintain the leeward, such being their remarkable sensi- tiveness, they will sooner flee from the smell than the sight of a man. Their sense of smell, with the wind, in fact, far exceeds their scope of BIG JIM'S FOlIR'lir ADVENTURE. vision. It is so extremely acute, that even the fresh footsteps of a man, crossing their path, are to them a sure cause of alarm and flight. Of all the diversities of game indigenous to the mountains and prairies of the great West, with the exception, perhaps, of the grizzly bear, no animal is more tenacious of life than the buffalo. To shoot it in the head, is an inane effort. No rifle can project a ball with sufficient force to per- forate the thick hair and hide to its brain, through the double scull-bono that protects it. A paunch shot is equally vain. The only sure points ior the marksman are, the heart, lights, Iddneys, or vertebrae ; and even then the unyielding victim not unfrequently escapes. Buffalo, wounded in the skirts of the lights, have been known to live for several days afterwards. 1 have witnessed their escape, even after the re- ception of fifteen bullet-wonnds, and most of them at such points as would have proved fatal to almost any other animal. In the summer of '43, 1 myself killed one of them, that had been shot through the pussy surface at the hull of ikj heart, apparently four or five days previous, which doubtless would have recovered had it remained un- molested. A gun, suitable for killing this kind of game, should never carry to ex- ceed Ibrty balls to the pound — a lesser bore would be almost entirely use- less. The distance generally required for a shot, the smallness of the ball, its liability to variation from tlie wind, with its failure to " hold up " and retain its force, contribute to render the use of such a piece little el«e than idle waste of ammunition. Oct. nth. The sun arose bright and clear, and with its first appearance the caravan was in motion. Proceeding up the South Fork some ten miles we halted for breakfast, and made arrangements for fording the stream. Near us lay the carcase of one of the cows wounded on the previous evening, and as yet scarcely dead. She had travelled thus far after being- shot in the lights. Our crossing was effected with little difficulty, but occupied till late in the afternoon. The river was full a mile wide and very shallow, with a soft sandy bed, requiring the strength of all the united teams to each wag- gon. The day proved cold, and the water was like an application of ice to the naked skin. Our teamsters, who were compelled to cross and recross, some dozen times, felt in not the best humor, and were better pleased than any one else at the termination of their unpleasant task. Having safely gained the opposite bank, we travelled up the river five or six miles, and halted for the night. During our course the bottoms upon either side presented one dense, interminable band of buffalo, far as the eye could reach. The whole prairie pictured a living mass, moved by impulsive dread, as the breeze heralded our approach, and the countless multitude made way before and on either hand. Ever and anon, an old bull would linger, as if to intimidate, and not un- frequently venture within gun-shot. One fellow, in particular, passed side- long, for a mile or more, stopping at intervals to gaze upon us, shaking his shaggy head in defiance, as much as to say, " you dare not come near !'' Big Jim saw this, and his pride was wounded. The bull, in his opinion, 48 RARE POLITENESS. had challenged the whole party, and there was no one stout-hearted enough to accept it. Here was a chance for a full display of his bravery and skill. Ever since we had reached the buffalo range, his proud spirit had yearned to be- come the death of some one of these terrible monsters, that he might relate the deed of perilous exploit to wondering posterity, and incite the rising generation to emulate his noble achievement. But, alas, for the fadeless laurels he might otherwise have won, in an evil hour his rifle had been sacriticed for the extermination of a huo-e, venomous serpent. He did the deed at one fell blow ; — brave, but unfortu- nate ! Yet he had one consolation amid his troubles, — no victory is ever gained without some loss to the conquerors. Still, he needed his gun, for without it how was he to avenge the foul in- sult the savage beast ot the prairie was even now hurling in the very face of the shrinkino- crowd ? Somethingf must be done. With these cogitations, an idea struck him, — he could borrow a rifle ; so, advancing to a comrade, he exclaimed : "Do lend me your rifle, one minute !" " Yes, Jim," was the ready reply. " But see you don't break it over the first paltry little snake you come across !" " That's a lie. 'Twas a big^ rattle-snake I broke mine over. 'Twasn't a paltry little snake !" Thus, vindicating his assaulted reputation, he took the gun and hastened to prostrate the impudent barbarian inviting attack. Jim looked at the bull, and the bull looked at Jim, — shaking his head, and throwing the loose sand from beneath him high into the air with his feet, and goring the ground with his horns of burnished ebony. If the creature had looked terrible before, he now looked fourfold more so, in Jim's estima- tion. Thinking caution the parent of safety, our hero was unwilling to venture further, and so, prostrating himself at full length behind a clustre of absiii/he, (sage,) he planted his battery, having his high-crowned hat for a rest, and blazed away at the bull's head. The hardened wretcli stood the shot without flinching. Looking for a moment at the spot from whence the strange sahite had proceeded, and again shaking his head and snorting with scorn, he wheeled and slowly trotted ofl". Eager to get a secoiia trial to finish the work so nobly begun, our hero commenced pursuit. Seeing him advancing, the bull thought it time to show his heels, and in a few minutes was lost in the distance. The courageous Nimrod now, for the first time, bethought him of his hat, which, in the ardor of his bold charge, he had left at the spot chosen as his stand to hurl death and destruction to the naughty bull. He hastened to regain it — but no hat could be found ; — the winds had borne it far away over the prairie, to be worne out in search of a wearer, and tho unlucky bravo, hatless, rejoined the caravan. Here the truth at once flashed upon the minds of the waggish clique, that had hitherto proved his sore annoyance, and they began anew : ■ " Now that beats me, clear out ! How came you to give the bull your Jiat and leave yourself bare-headed ? That's another wrinkle !" SCENERY AT ASH CREEK. 49 " It's no such thing," said Jim. " The wind took it away ; — and it's none of your business neither. I paid for it T^ " True. But what did the wind want with your hat ? Sure, if it needed a foot-ball, to toss over the prairies, it would have taken your head, the lightest of the two!" " You're a fool !" retorted Jim, indignantly. " There, now. That's the time you cotcht it, my boy. Why, fellow, Mr. Jeems took off his hat, out of pure politeness, — to win the good opinion of the bulk He were right. Didn't you see how the gentleman-cow bowed and scraped in turn. Why, he throw^d the dirt clean over his back, not to be outdone in good breeding ! Ah, but the pesky wind ! While Mr. Jeems were showing his brotten up, what had it to do, but to snatch his hat and run off ivith it ! Mr. Jeems are no fool ! and the feller what says he am, — (I want you all to understand me ; Mr. Jeems have been most shamefully abused and misused, and I can whip the chaps what's done it — provided they'll let me ; — I say, then, I want you all to understand me !) Mr. Jeems are no fool, and the man what says he am — is, — (I can't think of words bad enough,) — is — is, as near the mark as though he'd drove centre T^ " Aye. Jim's right. You are all a pack of dougli-heads to make fun of him in the way you do. Suppose you'd be struck comical I Then what'd ye think of yourselves !" " Poor Jim. Shoot grass, kill horse, break gun, burn shoe, scorch foot, and go bare-headed ! Wat him mean ?" " I say, Jim. When 're going a hunting again ? — 'case I want to go 'long too !" CHAPTER VI. Ash Creek. — Pawnee and Sioux battle-ground. — Bread-root. — The Eagle's Nest. — Mad wolf, — Number and variety of prairie wolves, — their sagacity. — Mad bull. — Making and curing meat. — Big Jim still unfortunate. — Johnson's creek. — McFar- lan's Castle. — Deceptiveness of distances. — Express from the Fort. — Brave Bear. — Bull Tail. — Talk with the Indians. — Speech of Marto-cogershne. — Reply. — Tah- tungah-sana's address. Oct 18th. Bearing to the right, over a high undulating prairie, we struck the North Fork of the Platte, after a drive of about twelve miles, and continuing up its left bank a short distance, camped for the night at the mouth of Ash Creek. The stream at this place is a broad bed of sand, entirely dry, except in the spring months. Higher up, however, it affords a generous supply of pure running water, sustained by the numerous feeders that force their way into it, from the high grounds dividing the two rivers. The valley is of variable width, and well timbered with beautiful ash groves, from which the creek derives its name. Here are also found se^e- ral varieties of wild fruit indio-enous to the mountains. As a whole, it 60 BREAD-ROOT.— THE EAGLE'S NEST presents to the eye a pretty flower-garden, walled in by huge piles of argillaceous rock, and watered by murmuring streamlets whose banks are ornamented with shade trees and shubbery. Near camp had been the scene of a fierce and bloody battle between the Pawnees and Sioux, in the winter of 1835. The affray commenced early in the morning, and continued till near night. A trader, who was present with the Sioux, on the occasion, describes it as having been remarkably close. Every inch of ground was disputed — now the Pawnees advancing upon the retreating Sioux ; and now the Sioux, while the Pawnees gave way ; but, returning to the charge with redoubled fury, the former once more recoiled. The arrows flew in full showers, — the bullets whistled the death-song of many a warrior, — the yells of combating savages filled the air, and drowned the lesser din of arms. At length arrows and balls were exhausted upon both sides, — but still the battle raged fiercer than before. War-club, tomahawk and butcher-knife were bandied with terrific force, as the hostile parties engaged hand to hand, and the clash of resounding blows, commingling with the clamor of unearthly voices which rent the very heavens, seemed more to prefigure the contest of fiends than aught else. Finally the Pawnees abandoned the field to their victorious enemies, leaving sixty of their warriors upon the ensanguined battle-ground. But the Sioux had paid dearly for their advantage ; — forty-five of their bravest men lay mingled with the slain. The defeated party were pursued only a short distance, and then permitted to return witliout further molestation to their village, at the Forks of the Platte. This disaster so completely disheartened the Pawness, they immediately abandoned their station and moved down the river some four hundred miles, — nor have they again ventured so high up, unless in strong war- parties. About the same time the village on Republican fork of Kansas was also abandoned, and its inhabitants united with the Loups. The evidences of this cruel death-harvest were 3'et scattered over the prairie, whose bones and sculls looked sad, indeed. One of the latter was noticed, near camp, with a huge wasp's nest occupying the vacuum once filled by the subtle organs of intellect. Strange tenant, truly, of a human scull, — but, perhaps, not an unfit antitype of the fierce passions that whilom claimed it as their dwelling place. A specimen of the bread-root, (psoralea esculeiita,) was procured from the creek-bank by one of the voyageurs. This is very common in the vicinity of the mountains, and attains a size from twenty to thirty inches in circum- ference. It is taprooted, and generally prefers the rich sandy soil of bot- toms and ravines, — not unfrequently penetrating to the depth of five or six feet. In shape, it is much like the common beet. Its exterior is covered with a thick ligument of tough fibres, curiously interwoven, enveloping a white pulpy substance, which is very sweet and pleasantly tasted. The day following we proceeded some twenty miles, and camped at a place called the Eagle's Nest. WOLVES,— THEIR SAGACITY. 61 A few scattcrinof trees at the nVht of the bottom, here mark the transi- tion to the high prairie. One of these was the war-eagle's eyry, upon which slie rears her annual brood, and teaches it to soar far away, or levy tribute from the surrounding v. ilderness. The proud bird of Jove was yet sailing aloft, in silent majesty, almost lost to vision in the long space of intervening blue that told the grandeur of her flight ; and, tinged with the purple and gold of the setting sun, she seemed looking down with a jealous eye upon the unwonted invaders of h»r earthly home. A few light clouds, garnished with day's departing glory, danced athwart the western sky, as the full moon arose, hasternng to re- enter her nightly pathway, and course amid the array of glittering worlds, and smile upon the wide realms of Solitude ; — while countless herds of grazing buffalo covered the prairies on either side of the broad and silent river ; and naught met the listening ear, save the dolesome hooting of the midnight owl, as she resumed her nocturnal ditty, to enhance the deep melancholy of loneliness ; or the shrill whistlings of the prairie-winds, as they sported in mirth and chanted their requiems to the dying year ; or the terrific bellowings of the hoarse-toned bison, the softening cadence of whose voices sounded trebly mournful as it swept far along and became lost in the distance ; or yet, the dismal bowlings of the halt-starved wolves, that gathered by scores upon every hill-top and renewed, in more piteous accents, their ceaseless concert ; — all these united to invest the scene, so magnifi- cent in itself, with a savage wildness, at once incitive of terror and admi- ration. In our progress during the day I remarked, at frequent intervals, bare places coated with saline efflorescences, and occasional plats of fine bluish grass, (herba salee,) — appearances quite common from this onward. Our night slumbers were disturbed by the quick discharge of firearms, which instantly brought every man to his feet, rifle in hand. The cause of this alarm was the appearance of a mad wolf among the caravan ani- mals, and several shots were fired before the guard could despatch him. He proved one of the largest of his species, and looked fearful as his blood-red eyeballs and foaming mouth were exposed by the camp-fire. In the morning it was ascertained he had bitten nine head of horses and cattle. The bufl^alo range afl^ords every variety of wolves, common to the moun- tains and regions still further west. Of these there are five distinct classi- fications, viz : The big white, or buffalo wolf ; the shaggy brown ; the black ; the gray, or prairie wolf ; and the cayeute, (wa-chunka-monet,) or medicine-wolf of the Indians. The white and brown wolves are the most numerous, and follow the buffalo in bands of hundreds, subsisting upon the carcases of such as die of themselves or are slaughtered as their necessities demand. These wolves behave with great sagacity in their predatory operations, and appear to exercise a perfect understanding and concert of action with each other on such occasions. First, stationing themselves by files at given distances along the course their intended victim is expected to run, two or more of them enter the herd of unconscious buffalo, and, singling 52 A MAD BULL. out the fattest one, drive it to the track at which their companions await to take part in the grand race. This done, the victim is made to run the gauntlet between two rows of wolves. As it advances, others join their fresh numbers to the chase, till at length, tired down and exhausted in strength, the ill-fated animal falls ready prey to their greediness. The poor creature is first hamstrung to prevent its escape, and then literally devoured alive ! The black wolf is seldom met with in these parts. It nearly equals the white and brown in size, and is fully as large as the common cur-dog. The prairie wolf is not more than half the size of the above mentioned, and much less ferocious. Its color is of a dark gray, and its fur quite soft and fine. The cayeute or medicine-wolf compares with the common feist, and is of a grayish color, much like that of the wild rabbit of the States. Its fur is fine and thick, and might be turned to good account for the manu- facture of caps, muffs, &c. The Indians cherish many superstitious notions in regard to this ani- mal, and hold it in great veneration. They consider it as the messenger employed by the Great Spirit, on special occasions, to herald the approach of events interesting to the welfare of his red children, and for that reason they are never known to harm or molest it. Just at daylight, a large band of buffalo crossed the river nearly oppo- site to camp. It was headed by an old bull, that led the way, grunting and bellowing as he advanced, as if in mock personation of the bugleman of a corps of cavalry. Some three or four hundred cows and calves fol- lowed, side by side, with marked and regular tread, like platoons of infantry marching in set step to music, presenting a truly comical exhibition. A voyageur seized his rifle and saluted with its contents the music- master and captain-general of the advancing army, as he was about to ascend the river bank. In an instant the whole detachment to " right about face," and retreat precipitately to the rearward shore, with no other music than the clatter of hoofs and the splashing of water, or order than the confused rivalry for speedy escape from the unexpected presence of danger. Oct. 20ih. Resuming our course, during the forenoon, the strange de- portment of a buffalo bull near the trail arrested attention. He was running in a circle, at the height of his speed, and narrowing its sphere at each gyration. Several of us rode out to him, — but he still, continued, (with frothing mouth and protruding tongue, swollen to the utmost distention of his jaws, rolling eye-balls, like globes of clotted gore ; and bellowing for pain,) following the fast-decreasing limits of his strange course, regardless of our presence. He soon commenced whirling round and round, with faltering, half stumbling steps, and finally fell prostrate before us, apparently in the last paroxysm of mortal agony. In vain he struggled to rise, while his tongue bled from between his jaws, chafed in fruitless effort to close them, and his head, keeping time with the convulsive throes of his fast-waning strength, tore up the prairie-sod and lashed the ground in the mad fury of effort. BIG JIM STILL UNFORTUNATE. 53 The spectacle was one of the most striking exhibitions of excruciating pain I ever witnessed. Even the rough mountaineers were excited to pity, and gladly alleviated his miseries by hastening his end. A friendly bullet put a period to his sufferings, and placed him far beyond the reach of summer's heat and winter's cold, mad wolves and all the inexpressible horrors of hydrophobia. At our noon encampment we commenced the process of •' making meat," preparatory to passing a long distance devoid of game ; and, as the reader may be anxious to know what kind of an operation this is, I will explain. It consists simply in cutting into thin slices the boneless parts of buffalo, or other meat, and drying them in the wind or sun. Meat thus cured may be preserved for years without salt. Ropes of raw hide were stretched around the waggons, upon which the results of our labor were left to the finishing effects of the wind and sun as we proceeded, — thus making an important saving in the item of time. It is astonishing how long a time fresh meat may be kept without injury, upon the grand prairies, in dry weather, when it receives the free access of air. Some of that killed on our first arrival among bufTalo was yet hanging to the waggons, as sweet and sound as ever. I have know^n it to be preserved, in this way, for ten or twelve days in the heart of summer. Meat, packed in snow, while in a frozen state, may be retained fresh for months without injury. I have known an instance of its being thus kept from January till June. The air is so pure and dry, it requires but little effort to preserve meat, for any requisite length of time, almost at any season of the year. Our hunter, having proceeded in advance of the waggons during the afternoon, was overtaken about sundown at a place selected for night- camp, which he had ornamented with the carcases of three cows, — and there again, was soon witnessed another display of rare feasting, such as mountaineers alone know how to appreciate and enjoy. The night proved cold and uncomfortable, and the bright-glowing camp fires presented most captivating inducements to the shivering sentinels, as they paced their dreary rounds, to step within its cheering influence. Big Jim, who was on the third " relieve," thought it too bad he should be com- pelled to suffer so much from cold, while a nice warm fire was permitted to waste its kind heat upon the bleak air of night, without so much as one to enjoy its beneficence. No, it would not do. " Why mayn't I just as well stand guard at the fire, as elsewhere ? I can, I'm sure. I'll stand this time, and not lay as I did before, and then there'll be no danger of falling asleep and burning one's self; nor'll they have the chance to twit me about lying guard and burning shins. I'll head 'em this time, and they wont know the difler- ence." So saying, he approached the fire, and, giving it a kick, extended his hands towards its blaze, — ever and anon rubbing them together and then again spreading them to receive its pleasing warmth ; then turning his back to partake alike of its comforting influences and obviate the jealousy chat miffht otherwise be engendered between front and rear. 64 JOHNSON'S CREEK. Now, he stands attent,-- he hears something' move. He stretches himself to his lull height, on tip-toe, and gazes in the hlack envelope of surround- ing night, made doubly obscure in contrast with the refulgence of the camp-fire. " How dark it has grown !" said .Tim. " What can it be ? Wonder if it's Indians. Pooh ! it's nothing but the wind. Bless me, I can't see the use of a poor devil's standing guard on such a dark night as this ! (step- ping backward still nearer the fire,) he can't see nothing, if he does* Feugh, — what is it smells so ? (turning round.) Good gracious, how hot my back is !" The mystery of Jim's present predicament is easily explained. The skirts of his jeans coat, having come in contact with the wind-tossed flames, caught fire, and were burned to the shoulders before he was aware of the accident. The garment was rendered entirely useless, and even his panta- loons were burnt to his skin, in several places. Jim began to think it as bad to stand as to lay guard, and concluded that, of the two, fire was more dangerous than Indians ; — for, one thing was certain, the Indians had never yet injured him, but he could not say as much of fire ! In the morning, as may be supposed, our hero's last mishap was the prolific subject of comment, and the wags were promptly on the alert to amuse themselves still further at his expense : " Say, would you believe it ! — That's the way Jim 's hit upon to shine in this crowd, — he burns up his old coat to make a light .'" " Ah, ha ! So he means to shine by the light of his old clothes, and come it over us in an underhand manner ! Jim, that '11 never do ; — I tell you, once for all." " Wonder if he wont burn up himself next ?" " He ? No. He's too green and sappy to burn himself, and so he takes his old clothes !" " Poor Jim. Shoot grass, kill horse, break gun, burn shoe, scorch foot, lose hat, stick coat in him fire ! Poor fellow. No can do without Jim, no how." The third day succeeding the last mentioned adventure, we passed a stream, called by the traders Johnson's creek, in memory of a man by that name who was murdered in its vicinity, several years since, by the Indians. He was a missionary, and on his way to Oregon, with a party headed by one John Gray. As they were about to raise camp, one morning, a band of Yanktau-Sioux came charging over the hills, and preparations were made to resist them. Such a course Mr. Johnson felt scrupulous of acced- ing to, and stoutly protested against it, — affirming it to be wrong. As the savages approached, the ill-fated man stepped forward to meet them unarmed, despite the remonstrances of his comrades, — imagining the Indians would not kill him, as he was a missionary and had came to do them good. They, however, proved regardless of him or his intended good, and he fell the victim of his own foolish credulity. Three Indians fell in the con- flict that ensued, and he and they filled the same grave. THE BRAVE BEAR. Oct. 24//i. About noon we crossed Gonneville's creek, a large easterly affluent of the Platte. This stream also derives its name from a trapper, killed near it in an Indian fight, some eight years since. Upon the south bank of Gonneville's creek, ten or twelve miles from the river, is a singular natural formation, known as the Court House, or McFarlan's Castle, on account of its fancied resemblance to such a struc- ture. It rises in an abrupt quadrangular form, to a height of three or four hundred feet, and covers an area of two hundred yards in length by one hundred and fifty broad. Occupying a perfectly level site in an open prairie, it stands as the proud palace of Solitude, amid her boundless do- mains. Its position commands a view of the country for forty miles around, and meets the eye of the traveller for several successive days, in journeying up the Platte. We have been in sight of it for three days, and even now seem no nearer than at first, notwithstandfng our course, meanwhile, has borne not far from a direct line towards it. Here, for the first time, I remarked the deceptivcncss of distances, on the high prairies and in regions adjacent to the mountains. Sometimes an object will appear as if within a mile, at most, which cannot be reached short of fifteen or twenty miles ; then, again, objects will seem to be much further off than they really are. I attribute this, in part, to three several causes : — First, the variable state of the atmosphere, in regard to density. Second, the absence or plenitude of humid exhalations and effluviae in the air of different regions. Third, the peculiar locality of some places in regard to the reception of the sun's rays. In passing from Gonneville's creek to Fort Platte, we encountered no more buffalo, — these animals having been driven back into the high prairies by bands of strolling Indians. If the prospect had hitherto been lonesome, it now seemed threefold lonely. The hard-beaten footpaths that had furrowed the bottoms and plains, in all directions, ever since our first entrance to the buffalo range, were still seen ; but, unhonored by tlie presence and unmarked by the foot- prints of their whilom travellers, they looked like the once oft-trodden streets of some deserted city. Late in the afternoon we were joined by two engages from Fort Platte, whose object it was to hasten our advance. Soon after, we entered upon a stretch of burnt prairie, and were compelled to travel till daylight tlie next morning, before a sufficiency of grass could be found for a camping place. Oct. 2bth. Resuming our course about midday, we had proceeded only a few miles, when a mounted Indian appeared upon the opposite bank of the river, and accosted us : " Chay, cullo !— Hanno chaum-pa-monet ha Mena-huska tour ?" (Tell me, friend ! — Are those the Long-knife's* waggons ?) * This term seems to call for a word of explanation. Our company was designatefl by the Indians as the Long-knife, or American company,— a term by wliich a. I 66 BULL TAIL. On being answered in the affirmative, he commenced crossing to join us. Plunging into the river with his horse, lie had proceeded about midway of the stream, when the panting beast suddenly sank into the quicksand, throwing its rider head I'oreraost into the water. At length, having effected a ford, he hurried up to us, profusely dripping with wet. as evidence of the thoroughness of his recent drenching. First shaking hands with the company, he began to inquire about liquor, affirming the waggons contained that article, and adding, it was " right the Long-knife should bring the fire-water to give to the red. man," as did the Bad-medicine, — but it was wrong to sell it. For his part he would not buy the fire-water. He would buy blankets, knives, beads, and ammunition, — not the fire-water ; but the Long-knife should give it to him. The personage thus introduced was one of the chiefs of the Brult- Sioux, and sported the name of Marto-cogershne, or Brave Bear. He was a turbulent fellow, that proved the pest of his village traders. Slim and spare-made in person, he was somewhat pale and sickly looking, and seemed about thirty years of age. His arms were a short fusee, with a bow and arrows slung to his shoulders, and a butcher-knife affixed to his belt. His hair was long, parted in front, and turned backwards ; that upon the occiput, being bound in a cluster with panther's skin, hung in a plated cue and almost trailed the ground, while a lone eagle's plume completed his head- dress. A robe enveloped his body, which, with moccasins, leggins, and breech-cloth, constituted his full costume, — a description of dress respond- ing to that almost universally common among mountain tribes. We were soon joined by others of his people, who eagerly enquired re- specting the amount of liquor brought with us. Among these were several individuals recognized by our voyagevrs ag old acquaintances ; particularly one, an old chief called Bull Tail, (Tah- tunga-sana,) who was distinguished in attire from all his fellows by the addition of a hair-seal cap and a frock-coat, which he had received as pre sents from the whites. One of our party gave a favorable account of the old fellow, and related a story much to his credit. The narrator, during the previous winter, while searching for stray horses among the hills, had become so bewildered he was unable to find his way back to camp. He thus wandered for four successive days, unarmed, with- out food, and with but a single robe for covering. His destiny would, doubtless, have been to perish, had not the kind hearted Tah-tunga-sana discovered him, and, pitying his forlorn condition, taken him to the village, upon his own horse, some twenty miles off, going himself on foot the entire distance. Here, the lost one was treated to the best the lodge of his de- liverer afforded, and, when sufficiently recovered, he was escorted to the nearest station of the whites. I turned lor another look at the worthy chieftain, who now rode up and greeted his protege witli much cordiality. Americans are known among them. The American Fur Company, employing almost exclusively Frenclimen, or individuals speaking the French language, receives the appellation of Wah-ceicha, or the Bad-medicine company, — a phrase universally ap- piled to the Frencli among the mountain tribes. r'unri? cm? tttji? t^ptttv qtof^v t> '\r THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY A8T0R, LSNJMC AMt SPEECH OF MARTO-COGERSIINE. 67 He appeared to be about eighty years of age, and was gray-headed, spare-visaged, and much wrinkled. His coat, butto«ed close around him, served for a robe, while his matted ear-locks disclosed upon the one side a raven's and upon the other a hawk's feather, for ornaments. His face, like those of his companions, was hberally bedaubed with vermilion, and each cheek embellished with alternate spots of white and black, by way of variety. His only weapons were a bow, arrows, and a tomahawk-pipe. As a whole, he presented rather a shabby and ludricrous appearance, that, were it not for the recollection of his worthy conduct, would have ex- cited, in the mind of the beholder, far more of contempt than interest. A Sioux squaw, the wife of a French engage, accompanying us on her return from the States, now received the marked attention of our visitors. It is rare that an Indian will shake hands with a woman ; but now, they might break through the restraints of custom ; this was a special case; she had visited the white man's lodge, and could tell them many interesting things, — she was something more than a common squaw, — they might shake hands with her. She was accordingly greeted in a most flattering manner, and found tedious employment in answering the numerous ques- tions with which she was plied. Continuing for a few miles further, we made camp just at nightfall, and were promptly joined by a new recruit of inquisitive visitors, from an ad- joining village. The whole throng of Indians now numbered some thirty, and demanded a " talk " with the Long-knife. Upon this a circle was formed, with the whites upon one side and Indians upon the other, when Marto-cogershne opened the harangue in behalf of his people. He commenced in a low, distinct tone of voice. His robe, dawn loosely around him, was held to its place by the left liand, exposing his right arm and shoulder. As he proceeded he became more animated, and seemed to enter into the full spirit of his discourse. The modulations of his voice, its deep intonations and expressive cadences, coupled with a corresponding appropriateness of every look and gesture, presented one of the most per- fect specimens of delivery I ever witnessed. His speech, as imperfectly translated upon the occasion, rnn as follows : " Long-knife : We are glad to see you — we are glad to see your people, and shake you all by the hand, that we may smoke together and be friends. " Long-knife : We are glad the Great Spirit has put it into your heart to return with the road-travellers, (waggons,) and the white butl'alo, (oxen,) and the medicine-dogs, (horses,) bearing fire-water, (whiskey,) blankets, and many other good things, ere yet the chill winds and snows have com- pelled His children to light the lodge-fires of winter. Tiie Long-knife brings choice things to the red man, and it is good that we trade. (Ap- plause.) " The Great Spirit is good to His children. To us He has given the bufialo, the elk, the deer, and the antelope, that we may be fed and clothed, and furnished with lodoes to shelter us frs.'m the storms and cold. To us He has given the mountains and prairies, for hunting grounds. For us He has taught the streams to flow, and planted trees upon their banks, to give 58 THE REPLY. us food and drink, that we may meet around our lodge-fires with comfort and rejoice in His goodness, even while he spreads his white robe upon the hills, and lays the couch of winter upon the plains. "All these — all this country — everything that the Long-knife beholds are ours. The Yellow-hair* said truly, — all, all belong to us ; — we have them —the Great Spirit has given them to us, — they are ours ! (Great ap- plause.) ■*■- -^ " Long-knife : You have come to trade with us : — it is good. Your people are wise, and make many things ; — you bring them to us, and we take them ; but we give you robes and horses in their stead ; — we pay you for them all. Yet, the Long-knife pays not for all he takes from us. " Do I say the Long-kniie steals ? No. The Long-knife will not steal. He says, none but had men steal, and the Long-knife is not bad. Bui yet 'he takes our property without paying for it ! He kills our game, he eats our meat, he burns our wood, he drinks our water, and he travels our country, — and what does he give the red man in exchange for all this ? (Unbounded applause.) " Long-knife and friend : My people are generous, — they are brave, — they are all soldiers. The Long-knife bears the fire-water in his road- travellers, (waggons ;) — we have heard of it and are glad. " My people would drink of the fire-water that their strong hearts may become stronger. It is good that they should drink it, — it is good that the Long-knife should give it to them ; that we be twice glad to see him, and bless him in our hearts while we drink around our lodge-fires. (Ap- plause.) " Long-knife : Would you be our friend ? Then give us the fire-water. My people are generous, but they are brave. The Long-knife has taken our projjerty, let him refuse not the fire-water, lest they be angry and rise like the mountain bear, nerved for conflict. Then will they take it of themselves and avenge the wrongs of the red man !" (Great applause.) Upon this, the Brave Bear resumed his seat, and the commandant began his reply, which was rendered into the Sioux language, by their inter- preter. The purport of it was : " It is true, the Great Spirit is good to His children. He made all things of which the Brave Bear speaks, and He has given them to his children. The white and the red man are alike his children; the buffalo, the elk, the deer, and the antelope, with the wood, the water, and the whole country around, equally belong to both. " I and many people have come as friends, to trade with you. We have smoked with you before. The Long-knife takes nothing from you he pays not for. He buys the things he bears to you in a far distant country, and throws for them the white-iron f He brings them to you and swaps them for robes and horses. " He takes nothing without paying for it, unless it be that which the Great Spirit has given equally to his children, — the white and the red man. * This is the name applied, by the Indians, to Gen. Clarke, one of the leaders of tlie first party of wliites that ever crossed the mountains. An allusion is here had to an expression made use of in liis talk to the Sioux on that occasion. t Silver. This phrase is the Sioux mode of expressing the act of paying money for any article. TAII-TUNGA-SANA'S ADDRESS. 59 " Would tlie Brave Bear and his people be friends to us ? We are friend- ly— we are generous. We will give tobacco to the Brave Bear, that he and his people may smoke and be our friends. But the Long-knife will not here give him the fire-water. Let him come to the Long-knife's lodge, then shall he have of it a little, that he may bless the Long-knife in his heart. The Brave Bear can have none now. " The Brave Bear says, his people are generous, but they are brave, — they are all soldiers. Be it so. My people are generous, — they are brave — they are all soldiers ! Does the Brave Bear wish for fight ? My people are ready to either smoke or fight ! The Brave Bear says, unless I give him the fire-water for his people, they will nerve their arms for conflict, and take it ! Will they ? Let them try ! The Long-knife says, let them try .'" The conclusion of this reply was received with a bad grace by those to whom it was addressed, and created great excitement among them. Seve- ral left for the village, obviously for the purpose of arming and returning with increased numbers to the meditated attack. Meanwhile our arms were put in a proper condition for resistance, and all needful arrangements made to give the assailants a warm reception should they commence upon us. This done, our commandant brought a few plugs of tobacco, and, laying them before the Brave Bear, said : " It is good that the Brave Bear and his people should smoke. Here is tobacco, — let him take it to his warriors that we and they be friends ; — or would he rather fight?" Bull Tail, (Tah-tunga-sana,) who had had hitherto remained silent, now arose and addressed his companions: "Tah-tunga-sana is grieved at the words of the Brave Bear. Would my brothers fight the Long-knife, and rob him of what he has brought to us, that they may become fools by drinking the fire-water ? " Who shall then bring us medicine-irons (guns) to kill our meat ; or knives to butcher it ; or blankets and beads lor our squaws ; or the red- earth (vermilion) to paint our faces when we arm for war ? And, who shall bring us all the other things so needful for us ? "The Long-knife will not do it. You rob him. No one will bring them to us. We shall be without them ! We shall be poor indeed ! " Brothers : Why would you drink the fire-water, and become fools ? Would it not be better that the Long-knife no more bring it to us ? We give for it our robes and our horses ; — it does us no good. It makes us poor. We fight our own brothers, and kill those we love, because the lire- water is in us and makes our hearts bad ! The fire-water is the red man's enemy ! "Brothers: Tah-tunga-sana is old; — will you listen to him. He has been always the friend of the pale-face. When first the Yellow-hair (Gen. Clarke) came to the red man's lodge, Tah-tunga-sana took him by the hand. He will always take the pale -face by the hand. He loves the pale-face. The pale-face is his brother, — he is our brother ! — He brings us many good things. " Brothers : The Long-knife has spoken well. It u good that we smoke, — that we, and the Long-knife, and his people may be friends. Let us ac- 6 60 THE CHIMNEY. cept his present, and go to our lodges, and there tell to our children how- kind the Long-knife is to the red man." The speech was received in silence, — no one expressing either approba- tion or dissent, as the old man resumed his seat. The Brave Bear hung his head sullenly, but said nothing. The talk had evidently come to a close. At last. Bull Tail arose, and, shaking hands with the commandant and each of the company, took the tobacco and left for the village. The others soon after, one by one, follow- ed his example, and we were finally rid of 'their unwelcome presence ; — not, however, until they had stolen an axe and several other articles, de- spite the strictness of our vigilance. CHAPTER VII. The Chimney. — A bet. — Spur of the Rocky Mountains. — Scott's Bluff. — Romantic scenery. — Mimic city. — A pyramid. — A monument. — An elevated garden. — 3Ioun- tain sheep. — A.n Eden. — Death in camp. — The wanderer's grave. — Horse Creek and gold. — Goche's hole. — Arrival at Fort Platte. — Remarks by the way. — Prairie travel. — Locality and description of the Fort. — Indian lodges. — Migratory habits of mountain and prairie tribes. — Scenes at Fort. — Drunken Indians.— Tra- gical event. — Indian funeral.— Speech of Etespa-huska on the death of his father. Oct. 26lh. Raising camp at daylight we resumed our way, and soon afterwards arrived opposite the " Chimney," an extraordinary natural curi- osity that had continued in view and excited our admiration for some four days past. This singular formation surmounts a conical eminence which rises, isola- ted and lonely, in the open prairie, reaching a height of three hundred feet. It is composed of terrene limestone and marl, quadrangularly shaped, like the spire of some church, six feet by ten at its base, with an altitude of more than two hundred feet, — making, together with the mound, an eleva- tion of five hundred feet.* A grand and imposing spectacle, truly ; — a wonderful display of the eccentricity of Nature ! How came such an immense pile so singularly situated ? What causes inited their aid to throw up this lone column, so majestic in its solitude, to overlook the vast and unbroken plains that surround it ? The " Chimney " is situated about three miles to the left of the moun- tain trail, though it seems no more than eight hundred yards distant. Upon this question our party entertained no small diversity of opinion. Some of the less knowing were confident it could not exceed a half mile; and one fellow offered to bet five dollars he could run to it in fifteen minutes. * Formerly the " Chimney " was much higher than at present, and could be dis- Unctly seen in a clear day as far as Ash creek. The wind and the rain are continu- ally reducing it; and it is said to be full fifty feet less than it was nine years ago. Calculating from this datum, what must have been its altitude no longer remote than a couole of centuries ! A MONUMENT. 61 The banter was promptly accepted, and the " greenhorn," doffing his coat and hat, started in full expectation of winning the wager. But, in- stead of fifteen, it tooLhim forty-five minutes to reach the spot! The day after passing the " Chimney," we entered a broad defile of lofty ridges, and made camp. This locality is known as Scott's BiuflT, which is, properly speaking, a wing of the Rocky Mountains. From Ash creek to this place, an almost precipitous wall of arenaceous rock, limestone, and marl, shuts the high prairie from the river bottoms. As the traveller proceeds, this wall or ledge gradually increases in height, and recedes from the river, sometimes to a distance of thirty or forty miles, till it unites in a chain of hills, many of which are covered with stiydy pines, and others are mere heaps of naked sand or indurated earth. The ridge then continues its course until it at leno-th becomes united with the lateral chain of the Rocky Mountains, which bounds the " Plains of Lara- mie " upon the southeast. At Scott's Bluff these hills crowd themselves abruptly towards the Platte, where they present a most romantic and picturesque scenery. Our camp was in a rich opening, or valley, two miles wide, and walled in upon the right and left by perpendicular masses of earth and rock, that tower to a height of from three to eight hundred feet. In reaching it, the trail bore leftward from the river, about seven miles, through a level prairie, by which we were inducted to the valley, without any perceptible variation of its general surface. Near the entrance, upon our left, the spectacle was grand and imposing beyond description. It seemed as if Nature, in mere sportiveness, had thought to excel the noblest works of art, and rear up a mimic city as the grand metropolis of her empire. There stood the representations of palaces, with their domes and balus- trades ; churches, with their spires and cupolas ; and streets, with their gigantic dwellings, stores, work-shops, and ware-houses. And there, also, were parks, pleasure-grounds, and public squares, all so admirably defined by the agency of the winds and rains of ages, that the traveller might readily imagine himself to have arrived within the precincts of the desert- ed city of some peopleless country, whose splendor and magnificence once more than vied with the far-famed Palmyra of the desert, even in its best days. To the right arose a pile of sand-rock and marl in pyramidal form, three hundred feet high, that occupied its prairie site detached from hill or other eminence. Near this stood a more singular natural formation than any pre viously noticed. It described a complete circle, of one thousand feet in circumference, and attained an altitude of not far from four hundred feet. Its sides were of great regularity, and represented masses of solid mason- work, rising abruptly till within sixty or seventy feet of the summit, where they accline in a blunt, cone-like manner, reducing the periphery to one third that of its base. At this point is reposed a semi-spherical form, reg- ularly jutting with a gradual swell upon all sides — then tapering to an oval shape till near the apex, at w^hich the whole mass is surmounted by a rude imitation of sculptured flame, pointing upwards to the sun, as if this 63 DEATH IN CAMP. strange monument of nature had been erected in honor of the great source of light and heat ! Still further to the right, upon the river bank, is another immense pile, exceeding either of the before described in altitude. It is an oblong square, and presents erect lateral walls upon three sides, leaving upon the fourth a gradual acclivity which faces the river. Its summit expands into a beautiful terrace containing an area of several acres, which at the proper season is adorned with herbs, flowers, shrubbery, and grass, like a pleasure garden upon some house-top, and commands a view of the whole country, lending enchantment to the neighboring scenes. Its base is about one mile long by twelve hundred yards wide, and points endwise from the river towards the valley. Then comes the continuous wall which bounds the locality upon the ^ right. This likewise presents a level summit, varying from lifteen yards to a half mile in breadth, for a distance of ten miles, when, slowly sinking in its course, it finally becomes lost in the prairie. " Covered with grass and shrubs, it is the favorite home of the mountain sheep, where she breeds and rears her young, secure in her inaccessible fastnesses ; and ofttimes from its precipitous edge, at elevations of six or eight hundred feet above the adjacent prairie, will her head and mammoth horns bo seen, peering in wonder upon the rare traveller, as he passes adown the valley. The interval between the two mural ridgfes is of uniform width for about ten miles, and is wa.tered by a beautiful stream nearly the whole distance, when it inducts the traveller to the open prairie, — leaving the immense wall which bounded it upon the leftward, at his entrance, transformed to high conical hills, covered with pines, and almost lost to view in the growing space; while that upon his right, diminishing in size, gradually disappears and unites v/ith the far-spreading plain. Most of the varieties of wild fruits indigenous to the mountains are found in this vicinity, and also numerous bands of buffalo, elk, deer, sheep, and antelope, with the grizzly bear. In the summer months the prospect is most delightful, and afiords to the admiring beholder an Eden of fruits and flowers. No higher encomium could be passed upon it than by employing the homely phrase of one of our voyageurs. In speaking of the varied enchantments of its scenery at that season, he said : " I could die here, then, — certain of being not far from heaven!" Before leaving this romantic spot, feelings of gloom and melancho- ly usurped those of pleasing admiration, by the death of one of our number. The deceased was on his way to the mountains for the recovery of his health, with a frame fearfully reduced by the ravages of that fell destroyer, consumption. For several days past he had declined rapidly, owing to the weather and the unavoidable exposure incident to our mode of travel- ling. To-day the cold was more than usually severe, and an uncomforta- ble rain and sleet commenced soon after camping. In an attempt to pass from the waggons to the fire, he staggered and fell ; — before any one of us could arrive to his assistance, he had breathed his last. THE WANDERER'S GRAVE. 63 We buried him upon the bank of the stream that wends its course through the valley. Darkness, with its sable pall, had enveloped the scene as we covered him from view, and left the winds and the wolves to howl his requiem, until the voice of spring shall bid the wild-flowers grow and bloom upon his grave. This lovely valley had before this witnessed the death-scene of one who left his bones to bleach within its limits. His name was Scott, from whom the neighboring eminences derive their present appellation. Attracted by the enchanting beauty of the place and the great abundance of game the vicinity affi)rded, he wandered hither alone and made it his temporary residence. While thus enjoying the varied sweets of solitude, he became the prey of sickness and gasped his life away; — and none were there to watch over him, but the sun by day and the stars by night; or fan his fevered brow, save the kindly breezes ; or bemoan his hapless fate, other than the gurghng stream that sighed its passing sympathy be- side the couch of death ! There is a mournful interest and a touching melancholy associated with this simple story, that must thrill with emotion the finer feelings of our nature. The incident, which had so recently transpired, contributed to en- hance these gloomy sensations to an extent I never before experienced. I felt — I cannot tell how. I felt like giving vent to my feelings in verse. — Yet, I cannot write poetry. I made the attempt, however, and here is the result before the reader : THE WANDERER'S GRAVE. Away from friends, away from home, And all the heart holds dear, A weary wand'rer laid him down, — Nor kindly aid was near. — And sickness prey'd upon his frame And told its tale of wo.j, While sorrow mark'd his pallid cheeks And sank his spirit low. Nor waiting friends stood round his couch A healing to impart, — Nor human voice spoke sympatliy, To sooth his achinor heart. o The stars of night his watchers were, — His fan the rude winds' breath, And while they sigh'd their hollow moans, He closed his eves in death. Upon the prairie's vast expanse This weary v^and'rer lay ; And far from friends, and far from home, He breath'd his life away ! 64 HORSE CREEK.— GOLD. A lovely valley marks the spot That claims his lowly bed ; But o'er the wand'rer's hapless fate No friendly tear was shed. No willing grave received the corse Of this poor lonely one ; — His bones, alas, were left to bleach And moulder 'neath the sun ! The night-wolf howl'd his requiem, — The rude winds danced his dirge ; And e'er anon, in mournful chime, Sigh'd forth the mellow surge ! The Spring shall teach the rising grass To twine for him a tomb ; And, o'er the spot where he doth lie, Shall bid the wild flowers bloom. V But, far from friends, and far from home, Ah, dismal thought, to die ! Oh, let me 'mid my friends expire, And with my fathers lie. Oct. Ilth. The day being clear and pleasant, we travelled rapidly, and in the course of the afternoon reached Horse creek. This stream is a large affluent of the Platte, heading in the Black Hills, and, tracing its way in a northeasterly direction, through a timberless country, (in many places mere barren wastes,) makes its debouchment nearly fifteen miles above Scott's Bluff. The region adjacent to its head is represented as being rich in minerals, among which is gold ; and from my limited information respecting its geo- logical character, I am inclined to accredit the rumor. The story runs thus : Six or eight years since, Du Shay, an old French hunter, while ranging in the parts above alluded to, on crossing one of the two principal forks that unite to form the main stream, observed a singular looking something in the creek bed, which he picked up. Tt was apparently a fragment of rock, very heavy, and contained numerous yellow specks. Having deposited it in his bullet-pouch for preservation, subsequently, in approaching a band of buffalo, its weight became so annoying he thought- lessly threw it away. The year following he visited Santa Fe, at which place his pouch was accidentally emptied, and, among its contents, several bright particles, that had become parted from the rock, attracted the atten. tion of tlie Mexicans. These were carefully gathered up, and, upon due examination, proved to be virgin gold. The old man, on his return, searched diligently for the spot that afford- ed the treasure he had so foolishly thrown away, — but (not being intellect- PRAIRIE TRAVEL. 65 ually one of the brightest gems of nature's casket, and feeble and childish withal) he was unable to hnd it, or even to decide upon which of tiie two streams it belonged. Upon one of the affluents of Horse creek, thirty or forty miles south of the Platte, is a beautiful valley, sliut in by two ridges of precipitous hills, known as Goche's hole. This locality, in wildness and picturesque beauty, claims affinity to the neinborhood of Scott's Bluff. Its area is broad and of several miles extent, — inacessible except at two or three points. The surrounding hills are gen- erally composed of marl and earthy limestone. Towering in vertical walls to the height of many hundred feet, they present the appearance of a strongly fortified place. Tlie soil is remarkably rich, well watered, and timbered, — strikingly contrasting with the nude sterility and desolation of the circumjacent country. A heavy fall of snow during the night prevented our leaving camp until the fourth day subsequent, when were again en route. Having passed the night of Nov. 1st at Morain's Point, the next day we arrived at Fort Platte. This latter place is situated a short distance above the mouth of Larra- mie river, and is our point of present destination. From Horse creek to the Larramie river, the bottoms, in many places, afforded dense groves of heavy timber — the more agreeable as we had been so long accustomed to open and woodless prairies. The geological character of the country is nearly the same with that previously described — though possessed of greater humidity of soil. The formations, noticed in the vicinity of Scott's Bluff and Goche's hole, have merged into strata of limestone of various shades and compactness, with occasional layers of primitive sandstone. The prairies were beautifully undulating, and covered with lusty growths of dried vegetation. The hills, now and then, were ornamented with a few scattering pines and cedars, which stood like lonely sentinels to watch the progress of changing seasons. As some of my readers may entertain the design of visiting these remote regions, or passing beyond them to the more distant shores of the Pacific, it may not be deemed a digression for me to present a few hints as to the most advisable mode of travelling upon this long and wearisome journey. A caravan of waggons should make only two camps per day. Travellers should adopt the rule to start at daylight and continue until ten o'clock, A. M., — then, having halted some six hours, (if it be summer, if spring or fall, four only,) again resume their way till after sundown. Fifteen miles, upon an average, are as far as an ox team should travel per day, — mules or horses might keep on for twenty miles. Caravans ought always to lay by in rainy weather, as the wet and irrita- tion consequent upon draught, gall the neck and shoulders of their ani mals and soon render them unfit for service ; — every precaution should be taken to preserve their strength and soundness, as upon them rests tlie sole dependence of a travelling company. A mounted party ought, as a general thing, to observe the same rules, 66 LODGES OF MOUNTAIN INDIANS. and not think of averaging over twenty-five miles per day. Tliey might travel later ; but in such cases, they should always proportionally lengthen their noon halt. In the above manner the entire journey from Indpendence to the Pacific may be performed without injury to animals, or the expenses attendant upon a relay. Fort Platte, being next to Fort Hall, the most important point on the route to Oregon, calls for a brief description. This post occupies the left bank of the North Fork of Platte river, three-fourths of a mile above the mouth of Larramie, in lat. 42^^ 12' 10" north, long. 105^* 20' 13" west from Green- wich,* and stands upon the direct waggon road to Oregon, via South Pass. It is situated in the immediate vicinity of the Oglallia and Brule divisions of the Sioux nation, and but little remote from the Chyennes and Arapaho tribes. Its structure is a fair specimen of most of the establishments em- ployed in the Indian trade. Its walls are " adobies," (sun-baked brick,) four feet thick, by twenty high — enclosing an area of two hundred and fifty feet in length, by two hundred broad. At the northwest and south- west corners are bastions which command its approaches in all directions. Within the walls are some twelve buildings in all, consisting as follows : Office, store, warehouse, meat-house, smith's shop, carpenter's shop, kitchen, and five dwellings, — so arranged as to form a yard and coj^el, sufficiently large for the accommodation and security of more than two hundred head of animals. The number of men usually employed about the establish- ment is some thirty, whose chief duty it is to promote the interests of the trade, and otherwise act as circumstances require. The Fort is located in a level plain, fertile and interesting, bounded upon all sides by hills, many of which present to view the nodding forms of pines and cedars, that bescatter their surface, — while the river bottoms, at various points, are thickly studded with proud growths of cottonwood, ash, willow, and box-elder, thus affording its needful supplies of timber and fuel. One mile south of it, upon the Larramie, is Fort John, a station of the American Fur Company. Between these two posts a strong opposition is maintained in regard to the business of the country, httle to the credit of either. At the time of our arrival at the Fort, two villages of Indians were en- camped near by. Their lodges, being the first I ever saw, proved objects of great interest to me. The lodge of a mountain Indian consists of a frame work of light poles, some twenty-five feet long, bound together at the small ends, and raised by planting the opposite extremities aslope, at given distances apart, so ns to describe a circle, at the base, converging to a triangular apex, for roof and sides ; — over this is spread a covering of buffalo robes, so nicely dressed and seamed, it readily sheds rain and excludes the fierce winds to which the country is subject. A small aperture at the top, affords passage for the * Obs. Lt. Fremont, in 1842. CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF THE SIOUX NATION. 67 smoke emitted from the fire occupyng the centre ji^round work. The entrance is at the side, where a large piece of undressed bufialo skin (hung from the top and so placed as to be opened or closed, at pleasure, upon the ingress or egress of the inmate) furnishes the simple substitute for a door. These lodges (some of them containing quantities of roofage to the amount of tenor fifteen bufialo skins) are large and commodious; and, even comfortable, in the severest weather ; the heat from the centre fire, being refracted on striking the sloping sides, communicates an agreeable warmth to every part. An Indian lodge, in the summer, is admirably adapted to the pleasure of its occupants, — by raising the lower extremeties of the envelope and securing them at a proper elevation, a free passage of air is obtained, which greatly contributes to increase the merits of the delightful shade afforded by the superstructure. A lodge of the largest size may easily be made to accommodate fifteen persons. The interior is arranged by placing the fixtures for sleeping at the circumference of the circle, which afford seats to the inmates, and thus a sufficient space is left vacant between them and the centre fire. This kind of dwelling is the one almost universally adopted by the mountain and prairie Indians, and is, perhaps, better suited to their con- diticm and mode of life than any other that could be devised. Dependent solely upon the chase for a subsistence, the various Indian tribes inhabiting the mountains and countries adjacent can occupy no fixed residences. Contrary to the habits of more eastern nations, among whom agriculture commands attention to a greater or less extent, they are continually necessitated to rove from place to place in pursuit of game. Give to one of them a bow, arrows, knife, lodge, and running horse, and he is rich, happy and contented. When the erratic propensities of fiie buffalo (upon which is his almost exclusive dependence) compel him to change his location, he has only to pull down his lodge, saddle his horse, and away. So accustomed are they to this incessant rambling, they regani it more as a pleasure than an inconvenience. 1 have frequently seen hundreds of families moving together, — presenting to the unsophisticated beholder a novel and amusing spectacle, — with their horses, mules, dogs, men, squaws, children, and all the paraphernalia of savage domestic economy, and the rude accoutrements of peace and war, commingled indiscrimi- nately. The Sioux tribe, to whose country we have now introduced the reader, is, perhaps, the largest Indian nation upon the continent of North America, with the exception of the ancient Mexicans, if indeed they may be called Indians. This tribe occupies a territory extending from the St. Peters, of the Mississippi, to the Missouri, and from thence to the forks of the Platte, and up that river to its head-waters. They are supposed to num- ber not far from eighty thousand men, women, and children, and are divided into many fractional parts, each bearing its ow^n name, yet speaking the same language and claiming a common nationality. Of these divisions are the Bruits, Oglallas, Yanktaus, Piankshaws, 68 DRUNKEN INDIANS. Minecosias, Blackfeet, Broken-arrows, and Assenaboins, with many oth- ers whose names have escaped my recollection. The only perceptible difference in language, is, in the pronuciation of words like the following, meallo, apfello and Lacota, — those upon the Mississippi, and some in the vicinity of the Missouri, pronouncing them meaddo, appeddo, and Da- cota. The members of this nation, so far as my observation extends, are a cowardly, treacherous, thieving set, taken as a body — and are well deserving the appellation of mean and contemptible; though there are some hon- orable exceptions to the remark. Any effort to civilize them must necessarily prove tedious, if not alto- gether impracticable, while they adhere to their present roving habits ; — though three several missionary stations have been recently established among them, with slight success ; viz : at St. Peters, Lac qui Parle, and Traverse des Sioux. But the Indians of those sections, being under the more direct influence of the U. S. Government, have begun to abandon their former wandering habits, and betake themselves to agricultural pur- suits. The term Siuox, as applied to this nation, is of Franco-Canadian ori- gin— being a corruption of the word sued, and means dnink or drunken, — in allusion to their excessive fondness for liquor and predilection to inebri- acy. The name by which they call themselves, and are known among other tribes, is Lacota, or Cut-throats, — for such is the literal meaning of . the term ; and rarely, indeed, w^re ever a pack of scoundrels more justly entitled to the appellation. The night of our arrival at Fort Platte was the signal for a grand jollifi- cation to all hands, (with two or three exceptions,) who soon got most gloriously drunk, and such an illustration of the beauties of harmony as was then perpetrated, would have rivalled Bedlam itself, or even the famous ;ouncil chamber beyond the Styx. Yelling, screeching, firing, shouting, fighting, swearing, drinking, and such like interesting performances, were kept up without intermission, — and woe to the poor fellow who looked for repose that night, — he might as well have thought of sleeping with a thousand cannon bellowing at his ears. The scene was prolonged till near sundown the next day, and several made their egress from this beastly carousal, minus shirts and coats, — with swollen eyes, bloody noses, and empty pockets, — the latter circumstance will be easily understood upon the mere mention of the fact, that liquor, in this country, is sold for four dollars per pint. The day following was ushered in by the enactment of another scene of comico-tragical character. The Indians encamped in the vicinity, being extremely sohcitous to imi- tate the example of their " illustrious predecessors," soon as the first tints of morning began to paint the east, commenced their demands for fire- water ; and, ere the sun had told an hour of his course, they were pretty well advanced in the state of " how came ye so," and seemed to exercise their musical powers in wonderful rivalry with their white brethren. Men, women, and children were seen running from lodge to lodge with AN INDIAN FUNERAL. 69 vessels of liquor, inviting their friends and relatives to drink ; while whooping-, singing, drunkenness, and trading for fresh supplies to admin- ister to the demands of intoxication, had evidently become the order of the day. Soon, individuals were noticed passing from one to another, with mouths full of the coveted fire-water, drawing the lips of favored friends in close contact, as if to kiss, and ejecting the contents of their own into the eager mouths of others,— thus affording the delighted recipients tests of their fervent esteem in the heat and strength of the strange draught. At this stage of the game the American Fur Company, as is charged, commenced dealing out to them, gratuitously, strong drugged liquor, for the double purpose of preventing a sale of the article by its competitor in in trade, and of creating sickness, or inciting contention among the Indians, while under the influence of sudden intoxication, — hoping thereby to induce the latter to charge its ill effects upon an opposite source, and thus, by destroying the credit of its rival, monopolize for itself the whole trade. It is hard to predict, with certainty, what would have been the result of this reckless policy, had it been continued through the day. Already its effects became apparent, and small knots of drunken Indians were seen in various directions, quarrelling, preparing to fight, or fighting, — while others lay stretched upon the ground in helpless impotency, or staggered from place to place with all the revolting attendencies of intoxication. The dram-a., however, was here brought to a temporary close by an inci- dent which made a strange contrast in its immediate results. One of the head chiefs of the Brule village, in riding at full speed from Fort John to Fort Platte, being a little too drunk to navigate, plunged headlong from his horse and broke Ms neck when within a few rods of his destination. Then was a touching display of confusion and excitement. Men and squaws commenced bawling like children ; — the whites were bad, very bad, said they, in their grief, to give Susu-ceicha the fire-water that caused his death. But the height of their censure was directed against the American Fur Company, as its liquor had done the deed. The body of the deceased chief was brought to the Fort, by hie rela- tives, with a request that the whites should assist at its burial ; but they were in a sorry plight for such a service. There, however, were found sufficiently sober for the task, and accordingly commenced operations. A scaffold was soon erected for the reception of the body, which, in the mean time, had been fitted for its last airy tenement. This duty was performed by the relatives of the deceased in the fol/owing manner : it was first washed, then arrayed in the habiliments last worn by Susu- ceicha during life, and sewed in several envelopes of lodge-skin, with the bow, arrows, and pipe once claiming him as their owner. This done, all things were ready for the proposed burial. The corpse was then borne to its final resting place, followed by a throng of relatives and friends. While moving onward with the dead, the train of mourners filled the air with their lamentations and rehearsals of the virtues and meritorious deeds of their late chief. Arrived at the scaffold, the corpse was carefully reposed open it facing the east, while beneath its head was placed a small sack of meat, tobacco and vermilion, with a comb, looking-glass, and knife, and at its ieei, a small banner that had been carried in the procession. A covering of 70 SPEECH OF LONG BOW ON THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER. scarlet cloth was then spread over it, and th? body firmly lashed to its place by long strips of raw hide. This done, tlie horse of the chieftain \Was produced as a sacrifice for the benefit of his master in his long journey to the celestial hunting ground. The above mode of sepulture is that commonly practised by the moun- tain tribes. It is seldom indeed they ever dispose of their dead in any other way than by placing them either upon scaffolds, branches of trees, or in some elevated position, not unfrequently covered by lodges, where they are left to moulder and waste in the winds and rain, till the bone?, falling one by one upon the prairie, are gathered up by surviving friends, and finally entombed in mother earth. The corpse of the ill-fated man being thus securely fixed in the airy couch assigned it, to await the speedy process of dissolution, and mingle with its kindred earth, that its bones might find their proper places be- neath the prairie sod, the village once acknowledging him as its head now met round the scaffold, men. women, children, and little ones, to bewail the sad fate that had bereaved them of their loved chieftain. First, encircling it at a respectful distance, were seated the old men, next the young men and warriors, and next the squaws and children. Etespa-huska, (Long Bow,) eldest son of the deceased, thereupon com- menced speaking, while the weeping throng ceased its tumult to listen to his words : " Oh, Susu-ceicha ! thy son bemourns thee, even as was wont the fledgelings of the war-eagle to cry for the one that nourished them, ere yet thy swift arrow had laid him in dust. Sorrow fills the heart of Etespa-huska ; sadness crushes it to the ground and sinks it beneath the sod upon which he treads. "Thou hast gone, oh Susu-ceicha! Death hath conquered thee, whom none but death could conquer ; and who shall now teach thy son to be brave as thou was brave ; to be good as thou wast good ; to fight the foe of thy people and acquaint thy chosen ones with the war-song of triumph ! to deck his lodge with the scalps of the slain, and bid the feet of the young move swiftly in the dance 1 And who shall teach Etespa-hus- ka to follow the chase and plunge his arrows into the yielding sides of the tired bull 1 Who shall teach him to call for his prey from the deer, the elk, and the antelope, as thou hast done, or win honors from the slaughtered bear 1 " None. Etespa-huska has no teacher. He is alone. Susu-ceicha is dead ! " But thou wilt soon gain the happy country. Thy journey is short. There wilt thou bestride the fleet horses that never tire, and roam amid the fruits and flowers, the sweet waters and pleasure-groves of that lovely clime ; for thou art worthy. "And, oh, Wakantunga! (Great Spirit,) do thou pity Etespa-huska. Do thou teach him to be brave and good like his father, for who is there to pity or teach him now he is left alone !" Then, turning to the audience he continued : " Brothers : Strong was the arm of Susu-ceicha, and fleet was the arrow shot from his bow. Thirty and five of the enemy hath he slain in battle, whose waving locks were the trophies that ofttimes measured the quick THE COAST CLEAR. 71 step of the scalp-dance. Fourscore and ten were the medicine-dogs he brought from the land of the foeman, that their shrill neighings might greet the ears, and their strong backs carry the people he loved ; for brave was the heart of Susu-ceicha ! "What warrior ever came to his lodge and went hungry, or naked, or needy away 1 What widow or orphan of his people blessed not their chief, when he returned from the chase and apportioned to them their wonted dues from the choice spoils of the bufialo ] for generous was the soul of Susu-ceicha. " Brothers : Susu-ceicha is dead. No more shall his voice be heard in your councils, or his courage lead you to victory, or his generosity rejoice the hearts of the needy, the widow, and the orphan. Etespa- huska laments a father and a teacher. The Burnt-thighs* a mighty chieftain ; and the nation its bravest warrior ! We all mourn him ; sor- row fills the hearts, and tears wash the cheeks of his people. It is good that we bemourn him, and mingle with the winds the voices of our lam- entation, for w^ho shall now stand in the place of Susu-ceicha. " Brothers : Let us stamp his memory upon our hearts and imitate his virtues, that our acts may rear to him a living monument, which may endure till time itself shall die !" No sooner had the orator ceased, than a tremendous howl of grief burst from the whole assemblage, men, women, and children, which was re- newed in quick succession for several hours, when finally the bewailing multitude retired to their lodges. CHAPTER VIII. Coast clear, and Trade opened. — More visitors. — Smoking out the natives, — Inci- dent illustrative of Indian character. — Expeditions for trade. — Black Hills. — Raw- hide.— An Indian and a buffalo chase. — Deep snow, extreme cold, and painful journey. — L'eau-qui-court. — Remarks. — Lost. — ^WMte river ; its valley, frmts, and game. — Building site. — The Devil's Tea-pot. — Troubles with Indians. — Theft and its punishment. — ^Indian soldiers.— Christmas extras. — Outrageous conduct.— Raa- caUty of traders.— " That Old Serpent."— Indian superstition, reUgious tenets and practices. — Notions upon general morality. The events of the day had for the present put an eflTectual stop to dissi- pation among the Indians, and not long afterwards they began to pull down their lodges and remove to the neghborhood of buffalo, for the purpose of selecting winter-quarters. The disgusting scenes connected with our arrival at the Fort had pretty much ceased on the evening of the second day, and everything, with a few exceptions, began to assume its wonted aspect. * This is the interpretation of the Indian name which the French have supplied by the word Brule. - 72 EXPEDITION TO WHITE RIVER. The winter trade was now considered fully opened. Parties were sent with goods from the Fort to different villages, for the purpose of barter, and affairs began to show a business-like appearance. Some two weeks subsequently, a band of Brules arrived in the vicinity. They had come for a drunken spree, and soon opened a brisk trade in liquor. Our visitors crowded the Fort houses in quest of articles of plunder, and became an incessant source of annoyance to the engages. One room, in particular, was thronged almost to the exclusion of its regular occu- pants. The latter, losing all patience, at length hit upon a plan to rid themselves of the intruders. After closely covering the chimney funnel, by aid of some half rotten chips a smoke was raised ; the doors and windows being closed to prevent its egress. In an instant the apartment became tilled to suffocation, — quite too much so for the endurance of the wondering savages, who gladly with- drew to gain the pure air of the exterior. On being told it was the Long- knife's medicine,* they replied : " Ugh ! Wakea sutiello ha Mena-huska tour !" (Ugh ! The Long-knife's medicine is strong !) During their stay at the Fort, an incident occurred which will serve to illustrate a singular trait in the character of these Indians. A brave, named Bello-tunga, (Big Eagle,) received a blow over the head from a half crazed drunken trader, which came very near terminating in serious consequences. What would have been the result, it is hard to tell, had not the whites promptly interfered, and, with much effort, succeeded in pacifying the enraged savage by presenting him a horse. At first he would admit of no compromise short of the offender's blood — he had been struck by the pale-face, and blood must atone for the aggres- sion,— unless that should wipe out the disgrace, he could never again hit up his head among his people, — they would call him a coward, and say the white man struck Bello-tunga and he dared not to resent it. The services of his father, hereupon, were secured in behalf of the offending party, which, after great ado, finally effected an adjustment of the difficulty. An Indian considers it the greatest indignity to receive a blow from any one, even from his own brother ; — and, unless the affair is settled by the bestowment of a tresjja^s offering on tlie part of the aggressor, he is almost sure to seek revenge, either through blood or the destruction of property. This is a more especial characteristic of the JSioux than of any other nation. In fact, the Snakes, Crows, Arapahos, Chyennes, and most other tribes are far less nice in its observance, — though all regard the like an insult that justly calls for revenge. Soon after, an expedition was detached to Fort Lancaster, on the South Fork Platte, and another to White river, an affluent of the Missouri, some * This word, in Indian signification, means any person or thing possessed of extra- ordinary or supernatural powers, as well as any act for conciliating the favor and obtaining the assistance of the Great Spii-it. Tliat medicine is the strongest wliich ia tlie most eftjcient for its intended purposes. A PROBLEM IN MORALITY. 73 eighty miles northwest of the main trading- post. The latter party included myself with its number. Our purpose was to build houses in the vicinity of White river, and thus secure the trade of several villages of Bruits that had selected their winter quarters in the neighborhood, and were anxiously awaiting our arrival. On the last of November we were under way with two carts freighted with goods and liquor, accompanied by only six whites, one negro, and an Indian. Crossing the Platte opposite the Fort, we continued our course, west by north, over a broken and tumulous prairie, occasionally diversified by thick clusters of pines and furrowed by deep ravines, and abounding in diminutive valleys, whose tall, withered grass gave evidence of the rich soil producing it. To our left the high, frowning summits of the Black Hills began to show themselves in the long distance, like dark clouds, and planted their dense pine forests upon the broken ridges whose irregular courses invaded the cheerless prairie far eastward. A ride of twenty miles brought us to Rawhide, where we passed the following night and day. This creek traces its course over a broad sandy bed, through a wide valley of rich clayey loam, slightly timbered and luxuriant in grasses. Towards its head, it is shut in upon both sides by high pine hills ; but, in passing on, these mural confines are exchanged for the prairies, and the creek finally debouches into the Platte. An abundance of prelee and rushes afforded fine pasturage to our animals, and a kindly grove of dry cottonwood gave us requisite fuel for camp-fire. Before leaving, we were joined by another Indian mounted upon a dark bay horse, the noblest animal of its kind I remember to have seen among the mountain tribes. It had been stolen from the Snakes during the past summer, as its present owner informed us, and he seemed not a little proud of the admiration we bestowed upon it. The new comer proved Arketcheta-waka, (Medicine Soldier,) a brother of Bello-tunga, the brave referred to on a former occasion. Seating him- self by the fire, he looked dejected and melancholy, and liis face bore in- dubitable evidence of a personal encounter with some one. On enquiring the cause of this, we learned that he had left liis fatlier's lodge by reason of a quarrel he had had witii his eldest brother, — the latter having struck him with a fire-brand and burnt his body in several places during a drunken spree, — he was now on his way to White river, there to await the suitable time for revenge, when he should kill his brotlier. We told him this would not be right ; — it was liquor that had done him the wrong, and not his brother ; — liquor was bad ! He seemed to acknowledge the truth of our suggestions, and asked " why the pale-faces brought the fire-water to do the red man so much harm ?" Our trader replied, " The whites -want robes, and can get them for liquor when nothing else will do it." The answer evidently perplexed him, while he sat gazing silently into ttie fire, with his arms akimbo upon his knees, and palms supporting his chin, as if striving to work out to his own satisfaction this strange problem in morality . 74 PAINFUL TRAVELLLNG. The third day we resumed our course, and, after a drive of six or eigh miles, came upon a large band of buflalo. Here, at our request, the Med icine Soldier dofled his robe, slung his arrow-case over his naked shoulders, mounted his horse bow in hand, and started for the chase. At first he rode slowly, as if reserving the speed of his charger till the proper time. The buffalo permitted him to approach within a few hundred yards before they commenced flight. Then was a magnificent spectacle. The afll-ighted beasts flew over the ground with all the speed that extreme terror lent to their straightened nerves, and plied their nimble feet with a velocity almost incredible — but they were no match for the noble steed the Indian bestrode. He was among them in a trice, and horse, Indian, and buffalo were lost in identity, as they swept over a snow-clad prairie, in one thick, black mass, like the career of a fierce tornado, tossing the loose drifts upwards in small particles, that, in their descent, pictured white clouds falling to the earth, ever and anon enshrouding the whole band from view. Now their course is turned and makes directly towards us. They pass, all foaming with sweat — with lolling tongues and panting breath — but they still seem loath to abate from the energy of their wild terror. Soon the Indian and his gallant steed part from them. He has selected the choicest of the band and pursues her singly. Side by side both cow and horse keep even pace, while the ready archer pours in his arrows, — some of them, forcing their entire way through the bleeding beast, fall loosely to the ground upon the opposite side. At length, spent by the toilsome flight, exhausted by loss of blood, and pierced through her vitals by the practised marksman that follows her, she halts for fight. Now, she plunges with mad fury at the horse, — the well-trained steed clears the force of her charge at a bound. Again, she halts, — the blood spouts from her nostrils and mouth — she staggers. Again, she musters her expiring energies for one more desperate onset at her enemy, as if deter- mined, if die she must, not to die unavenged. Her charge proves futile as the former. A death-sickness comes over her. Her life is fast ebbing from within her. She reels, — she totters — she falls, — and breathes her life away upon the blood-dyed snow. A few moments' delay put us in possession of an ample supply of fresh meat, — the Indian reserving the robe only as his share. The cow proved a most excellent selection, and did honor to the judgment of the hunter. As we travelled on, the snow, which scarcely an hour since had first attracted our attention, became deeper and deeper, and our progress more tedious and difficult. From bare ground and comparatively moderate climate, we were fully inducted to the region of snow, ice, and winter. The })rairie was high and undulating. To our left an immense wall of secondary rock surmounted a ridge of naked hills, that described in its course the curve of a rainbow, enclosing upon three sides a large valley facing the east, — tlience, stretch- ing westward and raising higher and higher, hastened to mingle its heads among the cloud-capped summits and snows of the neighboring moun- tains. From a light coating of loose snow our course soon became obstructed > cd 5 • 'II lisissi lii! ;;''i:!i ! 11^ 11 :til'i mm. ■i''""'i";|i| ! 'I III ii!i II ii;i!„ PUBLIC LIBRARY L'EAU-QUI-COUllT.— REMARKS. 75 by still deepening layers, covered with a thick crust, scarcely strong enough to bear our weight, but quite sufficient to wrench and jar us at every step, and make our advance threefold tiresome. The cold was so intense, we were forced to walk to keep from freezinor. Our difficulties thickened the farther we progressed. Night closed in upon us, and we could no longer distinguish our course. Yet we kept on, in hopes of reaching some creek or spring where we might await the coming day. Slowly, onward, — plunge, plunge, at every step ; — now prostrate at full length upon the hard crust, and then again staggering in resistless mimicry of drunken men. The chill winds sweeping over the dreary expanse pierced us through at each whiff, and seemed to penetrate every nerve, and joint, and muscle, as if to transform our hearts' blood into icicles. But still it was plunge, plunge along ; onward, plunge, fall ; but yet onward ! There is no stopping place here, — 'tis push on or die ! Thus, travelling for three or four hours, not knowing whither, we came finally to the leeward of a high hill. The agreeable change produced by the absence of w]nd, called forth a hearty response. " Camp, ho," was echoed upon all sides. But here was no water for ourselves or our animals. We must yet go on. Still we lingered — loath to leave the favored spot. The Indian, who had been absent for a brief space, now cam.e up, shout- ing: " Mine, washtasta !" (Water, very good !) " Tarkoo mine ?" asked the trader. (What water ?) " Mine-loosa. Tunga warkpollo." (Running-water. A large creek.) It proved L'eau-qui-court, the stream upon which we had intended to pass the night. Pushing on, a few moments brought us to its banks, in a deep valley covered with snow. A fire was then promptly built from a small quantity of wood we had the precaution to take with us from Rawhide, and all hands were soon as comfortably conditioned as circumstances would admit. A hearty supper served to appease the appetites so keenly sliarpened by a toilsome journey of thirty miles, occupying from sunrise till ten o'clock at night. This over, each one cleared tor himself a place upon the frozen ground, and, spreading down his bed, quickly forgot liis cares and sufferings in the welcome embrace of sleep. L'eau-qui-court, or Running- water, heads in a small lake under the base of the first range of Black Hills, and, following an easternly course, empties into the Missouri, about one hundred and fifty or two hundred miles above Council Bluff It derives its name from the rapidity of its current, which rolls over a pebbly bed with great velocity. At this place it is narrow and deep, with steep banks, and not a stick of timber is to be found on it, above or below, for twenty miles. At the lake where it heads, there is an abundance of timber ; large groves of cotton- wood are also found at some distance below our present camp. The intermediate country, from Rawhide, is a cold and cheerless expanse almost at all seasons of the year. From the commencement of fall to the very close of spring, it is subject to frost and snow ; — for what cause, 7* 76 WHITE RIVER SCENERY. it is hard to conjecture. Its surface, though quite elevated, is not sufficiently so to make such marked difference in climate between it and adjoining sections. The next day proved cloudy ; we, however, resumed our course which led over a rough, tumulous country, covered with snow and darkened by occasional clusters of pines. Early in the morning our Indians left us and took a nearer route to the village. Soon after we became bewildered in the obscurity of the atmos- phere, and travelled till night unconscious whether right or wrong. Finally, coming to a deep ravine that obstructed further progress, we turned to a neighboring grove of pines, at the point of an eminence, and made camp. It was a bleak airy place, but by aid of a huge fire of dry pine we were quite comfortable, despite a heavy fall of snow during the night. With the morning our perplexities were renewed. Directly in front lay a broad and impassable ravine, beyond which a high mountain range arose to view. Should we go up or down ? After much debate we decided upon the latter, and, bearing northward during the day, struck the head of a stream which subsequently proved White river. This stream traces its way through a broad valley, enclosed upon either side by high pine hills. Its banks are studded with thick groves of cotton- wood, elm, ash, box-elder, and willow, — with nearly all the varieties of fruit-bearing shrubs and trees indigenous to the mountains. In the item of plums and cherries, it gave evidence of exuberant fecundity. The bushes, in many instances, yet bore the dried relics of their burthen, as if to tempt the beholder's taste, — while the tall grass and rosebuds,* every where attested the summer-verdure and beauty of the valley in which they grew. The snow that had hitherto impeded our progress, now gradually became less as we advanced down the valley, and soon gave place to bare ground. Game appeared in great numbers, attracted from the adjoining hills to pass the winter in this inviting locality. A journey of two days brought us to the site selected for houses, and, consequently to a halt, for the present. The place was surrounded by wild and romantic scenery. Directly in front, upon the opposite side of the creek, arose a perpendicular wall of marl and half formed sandstone, towering, stratum above stratum, to a height of three or four hundred feet, and overlooking the valley above and below, — while further on, a steep hill-side, covered with tall, straight, and almost branchless pines, burst upon the view. Rearward a gradual acclivity led to a high plateau, some two miles broad, coated with long, tall grass, when a ridge of abrupt pine hills in- troduced the more distant mountains, with their rugged sides and frowning ^ummits, — and. higher up, an immense pile of earthy limestone, sur- *Rosebuds are found in great quantities in many places, throughout the mountains, during the winter, and attain a large size. They are highly esteemed by many as an article of food, and have not unfrequently been the means of preserving life in cases «jf extreme hunsrer and lack of other eatables. ¥ A THIEF PUNISHED. 77 mounting a wing- of hills as it approached the river, presented a medley of curious and fantastic shapes, — ohjects alike of amusement and wonder. One of the latter, denominated the "Devil's Tea-pot," exhibited exter- nally an almost perfect facsimile of that kind of vessel. It was of gigantic proportions, — being one hundred feet high, and, occupying a conspicuous position, may be seen for a distance of many miles. The Indians from a near village, immediately upon our arrival, came flocking around for the threefold purpose of begging, trading and stealing; and, from this forward, w^e rarely experienced an interval free from their anoyance. Prompt arrangements were here commenced for building a store room and trading house ; — but meanwhile, we were forced to keep strict guard both night and day. Two braves were secured to " act soldier," and assist in keeping the thieving propensities of their people in check. Yet, notwithstanding the united vigilance of all hands, the latter would frequently perpetrate their petit larcenies under our very eyes, without being detected in the act, — so adroit were they at the business. An instance of this kind happening to myself is perhaps worth relating. Previously to the erection of houses, we were necessitated to sleep in the open air. Wearied by the lateness of the hour, one night I s})read down my couch by the camp-fire, with the intention of retiring. The weather being very cold, I had scarcely turned to warm myself, when a backward glance revealed the sudden disappearance of my sleeping appendages — robes blankets and all ! Informing the trader of my mishap, and catching a glimpse of the thief as he dodged past a knot of Indians at the further extremity of the camp, gun in hand, I started after the nimble lark ; but the thick bushes and darkness soon shut him from view and left me in fruitless pursuit. At length, relinquishing the hope of ever regaining the stolen articles, and vexed at the impious savage, who, instead of obeying the Scripture in- junction of "take up thy bed and walk,'" had snatched my bed and run! I returned to camp. Here I was shown a robe, by the trader, that had been brought in scarcely a minute beiore and oftered in barter for liquor ; — it was one of the two I had lost. The bearer was now promply charged as being accessory to the theft. This he stoutly denied, alleging that the robe had been given him by an- other Indian for the purpose he had offered it. Upon this the affair was referred to our soldiers, who, after much parley- ing and no little threatening, succeeded in causing him to return the mis- sing articles. The fellow then demanded of me a cup of liquor as pay for bringing them back. Mustering to my aid a few words of Sioux, I replied : " Mea warclie yau wechacha ceicha, opata-ne ha warktash-ne coga ! — I neither like bad men, nor will I pay for doing bad." Marto-nazher, (Standing Bear,) one of our soldiers, on hearing my an- swer, arose and addressed the crowd in an earnest and impressive manner. He was grieved on account of the many depredations continually commit- ted by his people upon the property of the whites. It is wrong — very wrong, said he, to ccnduct in this nianncr; — if such wickedness is allow- 'B INDIAN SOLDIERS. ed, the whites will abandon the country. Whites do not steal from us. — Something must be done — an example must be had — the perpetrators of these outrages must be punished. " You, Schena-sarpah," he continued, throwing his piercing glance full upon the chop-fallen culprit, who hung his head for shame at being caught in a manner so little to his credit, " Aye, you Scena-sarpah do carry a bow and arrows ; you call yourself a brave ; and yet you steal from our friends, the pale-faces ! "Do brave men steal from their friends? No! Schena-sarpah should alone steal I'rom his enemies, if he be a brave man and a soldier. "• Who are they that steal from their friends ? Squaws and children, as Schena-sarpah well knows. Then he is no better than they ! Why sliould he carry a bow ? Why go to war, or follow the chase ? Squaws and children do neither. None but brave men go to war — none but they should follow the chase. " Schena-sarpa needs no bow. Let him go to his lodge. There let him make robes and moccasins for braves, and take care of children with squaws, — for such should be his occupation, and only such should be his companions !" So saying, he approached the unresisting thief, and, taking from him his bow, arrows, and panther-skin quiver, resumed his seat. Then, breaking the arrows and shooting them away, one by one, among the trees, he snap- ped the bow across his knee and threw it into the fire. The bright flame from the burning bow had barely died away, when the quiver was consign- ed to the same late. As the last fragments of the effeminate's weapons mouldered to ashes, a smile of satisfaction played upon the countenance of the Standing Bear, at the thought of having avenged the wrongs of the white man. And, truly, this was an infliction of summary punishment. The amount of property destroyed exceeded the value of a horse, and, in the estimation of an Indian, constitutes a man's chief wealth. The offender was thus not only left disarmed by the operation, but made poor, and reduced to a level with the squaws and children to whom he was set apart. He be- moaned his loss most piteously, and started for his lodge, bellowing like a motherless calf. Another instance of theft occurred soon after, almost as remarkable. A robe was stolen from off one of our party, while he was asleep, and barter- ed for whiskey, without his knowing it ! Our Indian soldiers were of great service in conducting the trade. If any difficulty occurred, they were always at hand to assist in its adjustment, and preserve order and quiet so far as lay in their power. If any visitor became troublesome, they at once ordered him to his lodge, and enforced their commands in case of resistance. Every trader is necessitated to employ one or more braves to assist him in his business at the villages. An Indian considers it a great honor thus to receive the confidence of a white man and "act soldier" for him, as he denominates it. Some of thorn have not un frequently gone so far as to kill those of their people wlio proved guilty of misusing the traders by whom they were employed. OUTRAGEOUS CONDUCT. 79 » ^^W**^^!^^^^!^^^^^^^ They exercise a kind of supervisory office in the management of affairs which could not well be dipcnted with, — and very often have the lives of traders been preserved by the judgment and discretion of these men. Dec. 25lh. Christmas finds us in our new residence, which, with the ex- ception of a chimney, is now completed. This great annual festival is observed with all the exhilarating hilarity and good cheer that circumstances will allow. Several little extras for tlie occasion have been procured from tlie Indians, which prove quite whole- some and pleasant-tasted. One of these, called washena, consists of dried meat pulverized and mixed with marrow ; another is a preparation of cherries, preserved when first picked by pounding and sun-drying them, (they are served by mixing them with bouiUie, or the liquor of fresh-boiled meat, thus giving to it an agreeable winish taste ;) a tliird is marrow-fat, an article in many respects superior to butter ; and, lastly, we obtained a kind of flour made from the pomme blanc, (white apple,) answering very well as a substitute for that of grain. The above assortment, with a small supply of sugar and coffee, as well as several other dainties variously prepared, affords an excellent dinner, — and, though different in kind, by no means inferior in quality to the generahtj of dinners for which the day is noted in more civilized communities. The day following our turbulent neighbors were augmented in num- ber by the accession of another village of Brules, and Marto-cogershne, of whom I have spoken upon a former occasion, became with his family our constant annoyance. Visiting us at one time, squaws and all — as was his daily custom — to beg liquor, (which, some way or other, he always obtained,) the brother of our tormentor demanded a quantity of that article to take with him to his lodge. This, after many sharp words, was offered; but, having no vessel for its conveyance, he extended his demands to a kettle, — which, of course, was refused ; whereupon he threatened vengeance unless both were forth- coming upon the mocosco* (prairie,) and required still farther the gift of a pair of moccasins. Our trader replied, " The liquor is for you, and here are the moccasins, (pulling off his own and passing them to him,) but the kettle you cannot liave." The affair thus ended for the present, and the modest beggar retired to his lodge. The next morning, however, two of our horses were found pierced with arrows, and so badly, that they died soon after. At another time, Marto-cogershne became so enraged at being refused a whole keg of liquor " on the prairie," he rushed upon the trader with his butcher-knife to kill him. What would have been the result, it is hard to tell, had I not stayed the descendnig weapon by seizing the fellow's arm. Here our soldiers interfered and put him out of the house, — closing the door upon him. The exasperated savage then commenced shooting upon us through the door ; — two Indian boys passing in the interval also furnish- * This expression implies the bestovvment of anything as a free gift. It is also used to denote a random way of speaking with regard to truth. 80 INDIAN SUPERSTITIONS. ed marks for his gun, and not long subsequently a mule and an ox belong- ing to us feU to appease his insulted dignity. However, the chef d'ouvre of his rascality was exhibited in stealing our whole cavallard* consisting of ten head of horses and mules, which he drove into the mountains. We were compelled to give a quantity of liquor and ammunition, two blankets, and several other articles before we could secure their return. From the movement of things, he was evidently instigated by ^;he Ameri- can Fur Company traders to do us all the mischief in his power. Certain it is, he was their regular " soldier," and received from them numerous presents in consideration of his good conduct. The employees of this company are frequently guilty of such disgrace- ful conduct. In connection with this conclusion I might cite instance upon instance, and string out a volume of proof, were it necessary. Soon after Christmas we commenced erecting our chimney. The ma- terials for it were procured from an adjoining bank. While engaged in quarrying them, the operator came to a crevice filled with a strange fleshy substance, coiled together like the folds of a huge rope. " Hallo !" cried he, with astonishment, "here's the Devil, himself!" The extraordmary announcement brought all hands to the spot to get a peep at •' Old Nick," and the Indians, also, witnessing the unusual commo- tion, came hurrying up to learn its cause. The result proved, that, if not the Devil, it was his great prototype, — it was that " Old Serpent," with all his progeny. By means of a stick, thirty-six large snakes were exposed to view, — some of them six feet in length. They were in a torpid state, the result of the severe cold of winter. Having drawn them out, one by one, it was proposed to treat them to a warm bath. Accordingly, after placing them in a hole for the purpose, a keetle of scalding water was thrown upon them. The vivifying effects of this unwonted application restored them to a sudden anim.ation, when, wriggling and twisting for a few moments in all the contortions of agony, they at last tacitly curled up and expired. The Indians were much shocked on seeing this, and expressed their astonishment at our reckless presumption by their deeply accented " tula," — turning away from the spot with evident emotions of terror. On inquiring the cause, I learned in answer, that the various Indian tribes in the vicinity of the mountains are accustomed to regard the snako with a kind of superstitious veneration, and consider the act of killing it a sure harbinger of calamity. In the observance of this singular notion, they are scrupulously exact ; — but, in despite of repeated inquries, I have been unable to obtain the reasons upon which the whim is based. These tribes cherish many religious tenets, rites, and customs, — some general and others peculiar only to individuals. * This is a mountain plirase of Spanish origin, (cavellardo,) and means a band of horses or mules. THEOLOGICAL NOTIONS. 81 An Indian will never pronounce the name of the Big Medicine, or Great Spirit, other than in a reverential manner, nor upon trival occasions. This being is considered tlie Great Superintendent of all things, whose power sustains the universe, — causing day and night with the varying seasons, — making the grass to grow, the water to run, and the rains to fall, for the good of man and beast. Some imagine He lives in the sun ; others, in the air ; others, in the ground ; and others in the immensity of His works. The animal or thing possessed of wonderful or extraordinary powers, such as their ignorance ascribes to be the attributes of the Supreme Being, they look upon as endowed with a greater or less share of His presence, and venerate it accordingly. Thus, the sun, fire, lightning, thunder, fountains of peculiar medicinal qualities, extraordinary localities, and various other things are alike objects of religious regard. Although their theological sentiments are generally the same, the man- ner of showing their respect for this Overruling Providence differs with different tribes, families, and even persons. For instance, — some tribes shave their heads in token of their submission to Him. Others mark themselves for His own by some peculiar manner of cutting their ears for the reception of ornaments ; — while others burn their thighs, tattoo their breasts, scar their arms, or flatten the heads of infants, for a like purpose. The instrument, with which such ceremonies are performed, is invariably thrown away. In case of cutting the ears of an infant, the gift bestowed upon the operator is regarded as indicative of its success during life ; — parents have been known to give as high as ten horses on like occasions. Some make indelible marks of a blue color upon their chins and fore- heads,— or the figures of lizards, snakes, arrows, or other objects upon their arms. Some show their reverence in the peculiar manner of receiving the pipe and passing it to another ; — others by certain ceremonies before smoking, — thus, pointing the pipe-stem to the zenith, then towards the ground, then horizontally upon either side, as if saying, " Oh thou, whose habitation is immensity, accept this as the willing tribute of homage from thy child." They will never allow a bone of any kind to be broken within their lodges, and express great consternation and alarm at such an occurrence. Some will not permit a stick of wood to be struck with a knife or other edged tool while burning, and others exhibit their devotion by some pe- culiarity in the structure of tjjeir lodges, or the mode of placing their medicine-bags, the length and shape of their arrows, their fashion of hair- dressing, and various minutiaB of like character. Others again will never eat unless they bestow the first mouthful as an offering to the prairie, — believing that, as the prairie affords water, grass, and game, for the good of the red man, it is the fullest cmbodyment of the Essence of Good ; therefore, in the observance of this practice, they not only acknowledge their faith in the existence of the Great Spirit, but set apart the first of their Substance as test of their piety. Their ideas of the existence of a principle, or being, wno is the author and prompter of evil, are crude and indefinite. They are ready to acknowledge its reality, but seem to consider its per- 82 DANGERS OF THE LIQUOR TRADE. son more manifest in man himself than any other creature or thing. Their enemies they esteem as the more special incarnation of this prin- ciple, and next to them they regard a w orthless, mean, and cowardly indi- vidual of their own people. They also look upon creatures of an injurious and hurtful nature, as the greater or less impersonation of evil. Their notions of right and wrong are equally simple. It is right to be brave, to do good to friends, to relieve the needy, to feed the hungry, and to worship the Great Spirit, — these are acts of general morality. There are various other duties taught by their code relative to intercourse with each other, — to children and parents, husbands and wives, deference to age, chastity etc., the performance of which is essential to virtue. The line of demarkation between virtue and vice is yet more simple and comprehensive ; — every thing derelict of right is wrong. I shall recur to several points, connected with the foregoing subjects, in another place. CHAPTER IX. Dangers connected with the hquor trade. — Difficulty with Bull Eagle. — Scenes of bloodshed and horror. — Cheating in the fur trade. — How the red man becomes tutored in vice.— A chiefs daughter offered in exchange for liquor. — Indian mode of courtship and marriage.— Squaws an article of traffic. — Divorce. — Plurality oi wives. The difficulty and danger, not to say crime and bloodshed, connected with the illicit trade in alcohol, as conducted among our western Indians, is great and imminent. To illustrate this point, I need only to place before the reader a summary of facts which occurred, many of them under my own observation, during the winter of 1842. Soon after our arrival at White river a man was sent to a neighboring village with a keg of diluted alcohol, for the purpose of barter. Tlie Indians, feeling more disposed to drink than pay for it, demanded the keg as a gift " on the prairie." This was refused. They threatened— a fight ensued, (the soldiers and trader defending the keg and the Indians trying to take it.) Weapons were used, and the result was, both soldiers and trader were beaten ofl", — the latter, after being dragged through the lodgo- fire three or four times, narrowly escaped with his life. A party of Indians under the excitement of strong drink, attacked and took a trading house of the American Fur Company, near by, — robbing it of hoth liquor and goods. Two parties in the Fur Company's employ, from difTerent posts, met at a neighboring village, — one having goods and the other^ alcohol. The Indians, as usual, got drunk, and commenced a fight among themselves ; — because the goods-trader happened to be in the lodge of one of the weaker party, they attacked him. He was compelled to flee, and barely escaped with his life through the friendly interference of the squaws. His goods THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY MT9R, LENOX ANB TIL9EN P00*^'5Ar»SNt. J BULL EAGLE DRINKING THE FIRE-WATER.— P^^s"^ 83. I SCENES OF BLOODSHED AND HORROR, 83 were all stolen ; — while one of the Indians who defended him was brutally murdered, and several others wounded. Not long afterwards, our trader was shot at, three or four times, while engaged in this dangerous traffic, and one of his soldiers severely wounded. About the same time, the trader of another company received a deep stab, while dealing out the vile trash, and would have been killed but for the energetic efforts of his soldiers. Previously to the above, the Indians seized upon a trader and compelled him to stand over a hot fire until he was nearly roasted alive, — meanwhile, helping themselves to his stock in hand. Soon after, two warriors came to trade for a blanket at our post, — one of whom was drunk. While being waited upon, the latter drew his knife and was in the very act of stabbing the unsuspecting clerk, as I caught his wrist and arrested the blow. At another time, as our trader was standing surrounded by us all, he was shot at by a drunken Indian, who, by the merest accident, missed his object. Again, one night a party of drunken Indians undertook to fire the house in order to consume us alive, but were providentially prevented, owing to its being constructed of green pine logs. The most dangerous time I experienced during the winter was near the close of it. An Indian employed as our soldier, became crazed upon the drugged liquor of the American Fur Company, and made his appearance before us in a high state of excitement. This fellow had been denominated by his people the Bull Eagle, (Tahtunga-mobellu,) and was a chief, — highly esteemed as a medicine-man, and regarded as the greatest brave in the Sioux nation. He was a tall, well-made, noble-looking person — and, — such eyes ! I never saw the Hke planted beneath the brows of any other mortal. They glared like lightning, and, as they fell upon the individual to whom directed, seemed to penetrate the very soul and read the embryo thoughts of his heart. Through the misrepresentations of those in the interest of the Fur Com- pany, he fancied himself misused by our trader, and came determined on re- venge. Arms in hand and stripped for the contest, accompanied by his wife and two or three friends, he confronted us, — his strange appearance told for what. In the fury of passion his every look gave evidence of the raging demon within. Here, lest he should be misunderstood, he premised by a full statement of his grievances. They were many, but the chief of them was, that our trader had employed another to "act soldier" in his stead, while he was too drunk to perform the duties of that appointment. " I have been dressed"* as a soldier," said he, " to be laughed at, and now Peazeezeef must die !" The room was full of Indians, and one of them, an old man, exclaimed : " When Peazeezee dies, let me go under,;]: — I must live no longer !" * Previously, he had been presented with a citizen's dress to secure him for the company's interest. t Yellow-hair. The Indian name for our trader. t This term implies death, or the act of dying. 8 84 EFFECTS OF DRUNKENNESS. " Is this your love for the pale-face ?" returned the infuriated chieftain. « Then die you first !" Upon this, seizing the defenceless old man, he drew his knife and made a heart-thrust. The intended victim, however, grasped the descending blade in his bare hand and arrested its course — but his fingers were nearly severed in so doing. Here the wife of Bull Eagle rushed up to her husband and seized him by both arms, while others interfered, and the scene of conflict was removed from the apartment to the space in front. Now was a general fight. The women and children, crying for terror, ran about in the utmost confusion and dismay, — while raving combatants yelled and whooped, as knives, clubs, and tomahawks were busily dealing wounds and scattering blood. Soon after, the parties retired to their village, and the melee ended with only six wounded. In a brief interval the Bull Eagle again returned, accompanied by his wife, — the latter earnestly endeavoring to dissuade him from his purpose. A shot was his first salute, on entering the door, which a timely thrust from the squaw averted from its object. The kind-hearted creature then grasped the bow. Relinquishing it in her hands, the madman made a pass at the trader with his tomahawk, — this blow was dodged, and the heroine, rushing between the two, prevented its repetition. Dropping his tomahawk, he then fell upon the object of his hatred, butcher-knife in hand. But here he found himself in the firm grasp of several friendly Indians, by whom he was borne from tlie room. This state of aflTairs was the signal for another engagement between Bull Eagle, at the head of his partizans, aud the friends of the whites, — more desperate and bloody than the former. With great difficulty we re- tained our arms from the forcible grasp of the contending factions. This, to us, was a moment fraught with extreme peril — not knowing friend from foe, and instantly apprehensive of the knives and arrows of the avengeful throng. It was, indeed, a moment when the agony of suspense quivered with thrilling intensity upon every nerve, and vibrated in every sinew. To fight, would have been a relief. But, whom should we fight ? It might have been our best friends — for who could discriminate ? The death of one connected with either party, at our hands, would have proved the signal for our instant slaughter. Both would have united to exterminate us, — and, beset as we were, upon all sides, prudence dictated ^ strict nutrality. Sometimes fifteen or twenty would be struggling for our arms at once, — a strong temptation, as the reader may rest assured, for us to use them in self-defence. Meanwhile the conflict continued with unabated fury. Several attempts were made upon the life of Bull Eagle, but without success. Two were killed and others wounded, when a final stop was put to the further efiusion of blood by the withdrawal of the chieftan to his lodge. In about an hour subsequent, he returned for the second time, — but reason had now resumed her sway, and he came to apologize for his bad conduct. Calling our trader his " very good, his best friend," he cried for grief that he had attempted to kill him. He averred that liquor had made him a. fool, and said he should never cease to regret the great wicked- ness he had thought of doing to his " best friend." Ever after this afllair, CHEATING. 85 he remained our steadfast friend, and presented our trader with six super- fine robes, in evidence of the sincerity of his repentance. The foregoing- results of this infamous traffic, are only a few of the many instances of like nature I might cite, in proof of its imminent danger to those engaged in its prosecution ; — but this is not the darkest part of the picture. There are yet scenes in reserve, more bloody and dreadful than those above recited, though not, perhaps, quite as perilous to the whites themselves. They all occurred in the winter of 1842, during the brief period of two months, and resulted immediately from the sale of hquor. I shall not enter into details, but content myself by laying before the reader a mere synopsis of facts. In November, the American Fur Company, from Fort John, sent a quantity of their drugged liquor to an Indian village, on Chugwater, as a gift, for the purpose of preventing the sale of that article by their competi- tors in trade. The consequence was, the poor creatures all got drunk, and a fight ensued, which ended in the death of two head chiefs. Bull Bear and Yellow Lodge, and six of their friends, — besides the wounding of fourteen others, who took part in the affray. Soon after, an affair occurred from the same cause, resulting in the death of three. About the same time, another of like nature took place in the Chyenne village, and three more were killed. Several were also killed, in the interval, in the vicinity of the Chyenne and Missouri rivers, by their friends and companions, while under the madden- ing influence of intoxicating drink, — the precise number is not known. The very last trade at the close of the season, produced its usual deeds of bloodshed and murder. Two Indians were killed, and the person who sold to them the vile article narrowly escaped with his life. I might go on still further with the sickening sketch ; but, as enough has already been said to shock the sensibilities of the reader, in endeavoring to afiford him some idea of the enormities and untold horrors comiected with this criminal traffic, I must forbear. The liquor used in this business, is generally third or fourth proof whiskey, which, after being diluted by a mixture of three parts water, is sold to the Indians at the exorbitant rate of three cups per robe, — the cups usually holding about three ffills each. But, notwithstanding the above unconscionable price, a large share of the profits result from the ingenious roguery of those conducting the trade. Sometimes the measuring-cup is not more than half full ; — then, again the act of measuring' is little other than mere feint, (the purchaser receiv * ing not one fourth the quantity paid for.) When he becomes so intoxicated as to be unable to distinguish the differ- ence between water and liquor, (a thing not rare,) tlie former is passed off upon him as the genuine article. Another mode of cheating is, by holding the cup in such a manner that the two front fingers occupy a place upon the inside, and thus save to the trader nearly a gill at each filling. Some have two cups, (one of the usual size, and the other less,) which 86 A CHIEF'S DAUGHTER. are so exchanged as to induce the purchaser to believe he is obtaining a third more than he actually receives ; and others, yet more cunning, fill the measure half full of tallow and deal out the liquor from off it, — the witless dupe, not thinking to examine the bottom, supposes he receives the requi- site quantity. No wonder the Indian, with such examples before him, learns to hate the white man, and despise and abhor his boasted civilization. No wonder he looks with an eye of suspicion, alike upon his religion and his learning, and revolts at the thought of either, as the ingenious devices of scientific roguery. He is taught all the white man's vices before he learns any of his virtues. The emissaries of Satan, by their untiring efforts, eflTectually stop his ears, blind his eyes, and harden his heart, ere yet the heralds of the Gospel set foot upon his soil, to tell him of the blessings of Christianity, and the way to happiness and to heaven. If the Indian is bad, it is because the white man has made him so. Un- contaminated by intercourse with the offscourings of civilization, who come to cheat and despoil him of his property, and deprive him of his comforts, you find him quite a different being. You find him brave, generous, and hospitable, as well as possessed of many exemplary moral qualities. If he is a savage, he might, in many respects, prove a safe and worthy teacher to those who pride themselves upon a more enlightened education. He has a heart instinctive of more genuine good feeling than his white neighbor — a soul of more firm integrity — a spirit of more unyielding inde- pendence. Place the white man in his condition, divested of all the re- straints of law, and unacquainted with the learning and arts of civilized life — surrounded by all the associations of the savage state — and the In- dian, by comparison, will then exhibit, in a more striking light, that innate superiority he in reality possesses. No : Tlie Indian should not be despised. He holds weighty claims upon our pity, our compassion, and our respect, — but never should he be despised. Old Bull Tail, of whom I had occasion to speak in a former chapter, having forgotten the wholesome sentiments he advanced at the time refer- red to, took it into his head to have a spree. But, as he was not possessed of the means to obtain the wherewith, he adopted a somewhat novel sub- stitute. He had an only daughter, — and she was handsome — the pride of her family and the boast of her village. She was lovely, and all the high qual- ities of a princess were exhibited in her deportment. But, Bull Tail must drink ; why not give his daughter to the Yellow-hair and receive from him a keg of liquor as a marriage present ? This thought was acted out, and one morning the old chief came to us, followed by his daughter, who, aware of her father's designs, gave vent to her grief in a flood of tears. As he entered the door, our trader addressed him : Trader. Bull Tail is welcome to the lodge of the Long-knife ; — but, why is hi,« daughter, the pride of his heart, bathed in tears ? It pains me that one so beautiful should weep. INDIAN MODE OF COURTSHIP. 87 Bull Tail. Chintzille is a foolish girl. Her father loves her, and there- fore she cries. Trader. The contrary should prove a greater cause for grief! Bull Tail. The Yellow-hair speaks well, and truth only falls from his lips. Ti'ader. How, then, can she sorrow ? Bid her speak and tell me, that I may whisper in her ear words of comfort. Bull Tail. Nay, pale-face ; hut I will tell thee. Bull Tail loves his daughter much — very much ; he loves the Yellow-hair much ! — he loves them both, very much. The Great Spirit has put the thought into his mind that both might be alike his children; then would his heart leap for joy at the twice-spoken name of father ! Trader. What do I hear ? I know not the meaning of thy words. Bull Tail. ISure, pale-face, thou art slow to understand ! Bull Tail would give his daughter to the Yellow-hair, — for who like him is so worthy to take her to his lodge ? Bull Tail has for a long time called the pale- face his brother, and now he would claim the Yellow-hair as his son. Loves he not Cbintzille ? Trader. Were I to deny my joy at the words of Bull Tail, my tongue would lie ! The Yellow-hair has no wife, and who, like the lovely Chintz- ille, is so worthy that he should take her to his bosom ? How could he ever show his g-ratitude to her noble father ! Bull Tail. The gift is free, and Bull Tail will be honored in its accept- ance,— his friends will all be glad with him. But, that they may bless the Yellow-hair, let him till up the hollow-wood * with fire-water, and Bull Tail will take it to his lodge ; — then the maiden shall be thine. Trader. But, Chintzille grieves, — she loves not the Yellow-hair! Bull Tail. Chintzille is foolish. Let the Yellow-hair measure the fire-water and she shall be thine ! Trader. Nay, but the Yellow-hair may not do this. Chintzille should never be the wife of him she loves not! The old man continued to plead for some time, in order to bring to a suc- cessful issue the negotiation by which he hoped to "wet his whistle" and gain a son-in-law, — but all to no j)urpose. Our trader could not be persua- ded to form an alliance so entangling upon any such terms, and the chief- tain left with all the lineaments of disappointment and chagrin depicted upon his countenance. The mode of marriage prevalent among the mountain and prairie tribes would seem rather strange and somewhat unfair to the better informed of civilized communities. The lady has little to say or do in the business. When an Indian takes it into his head to get married and meets with the squaw suiting his fancy, he wastes no time in useless courtship, but hastens to her father and de- mands of him to know how much he loves his daughter and what gift of horses will make his heart rejoice in a son-in-law ? The father, after consulting with his daughter and her mother, states the *Keg. 8* 88 POLYGAI\n^ terms. If these prove agreeable to the suitor, he immediately accepts iJiem, and the twain " become one flesh " without further ceremony. In case the woman has no father, her eldest brother fills his place, — and if she have neither father nor brother, her next nearest relative assumes the responsibility of bestowing her in marriage. If she be the eldest daughter, and has unmarried sisters, the bridegroom becomes equally entitled to them, and is looked upon as their common hus- band. The first year succeeding this new relation, the bride's family consider all the horses and other valuables of the new-made husband as their own ; the second year he is permitted to retain his personal property for the use of himself and wife ; — but the third year he enjoys an equal right with his relatives to everything in their possession. The decision of parents in the bestowment of a daughter in marriage is generally controlled by the largeness of the amount offered ; thus showing that civilized life is not the only condition in which individuals are some- times governed by sordid motives in pronouncing upon questions of such vital importance to the welfare of others. The female is the only party upon whom the marriage contract is con- sidered binding. The man may sunder it at any time suiting his convenience or caprice. He has the power, even, to dispose of his wife to another, or, at a mere word, to absolve himself from all obligation to her. In case of the latter, the discarded one returns to her father's lodge, — ready again to test the re- alities of this uncertain relationship, whenever an opportunity presents it- self meeting with the approval of those who assume to make barter of her affections and person. A woman, to be happy in this state of society, should never indulge in that fancied passion, pictured in such glowing colors by crack-brained poets and novel-writers, called love ; — or, if she has the assurance to do otherwise, it should be of that more versatile and accommodating order, so often exhibited in more refined circles, which may be reclaimed and trans- ferred as interest or circumstances suggest. Her affections are not at her own disposal, and, to render life tolerable, she must learn to love only as she is loved, and to love herself above all others. Next to horses, women constitute an Indian's chief wealth. This cir- cumstance not unfrequently results in one individual appropriating to himself six or eight. The squaw is compelled to dress robes and skins, make moccasins, cure and take care of meat, attend to the horses, procure fire-wood, and perform sundry other little drudgeries that an Indian will not do. Through her he becomes possessed of the means of procuring from the whites such articles as his necessities or fancy may require. A plurality of wives with him, therefore, is more a matter of economy than other- wise. 89 CHAPTER X. Tnhtunga-goniska. — Iligli gaming. — Weur-sena Warkpollo, a strange storj' — . The Death Song, a tale of love. — Medicine-men. — Extraordinary performance of Tahlunga-mobellu. — Wonderful feats of jugglery. Among our daily visitors was Tahtimga-egoniska, a head chief of the Brule villao-e. Years had bleached his locks with their taming frosts and taught him self-government. Well disposed as a man, he never became a participant in those disgusting scenes of intoxication that almost continually transpir- ed around us. He was a mere looker on — a moralizer ; and, as he witness- ed the blameworthy conduct of his people, an ill-suppressed sigh was fre- quently audible, and the inward workings of regret were plainly defined upon his countenance. Melancholy too had left her traces upon him, and, as he sat day by day in gloomy silence, he seemed the very impersonation of grief. Whenever the throng dispersed for a few moments, he would improve the opportunity for conversation with us ; for in the benevolence of his heart he loved the whites, and was greatly pained at the injuries and injustice it was so often their lot to endure. But he had a story of his own to tell ; it was a tale of affliction — a stab at the best feelings of a father's heart ! And, by whom ? By the very whites he loved ! Aye, by the very men whose business it was to degrade his people and ruin them by the contaminating effects of an unhallowed intercourse ! Six months had scarcely yet passed since the old chief had been called to mourn his youthful hope, and the pride and joy of his declining years — his first-born son ! And that son had fallen by the hand of the white man ! Still, the sorrow-stricken father harbored no thought of revenge ; he sought nothing for himself save the locks of that son, that he might hang them within his lodge, and gaze upon them and weep ! His simple tale was so touching in its nature it served to enlist the deep sympathies of our hearts. We began to regard him with much deference, and felt quite at home in his company. He would frequently entertain us with his anecdotes a§ occasions suggested, and at such times he invaria- bly proved both agreeable and communicative. The history of his own life, too, was far from uninteresting. He was the only one of the Brule chiefs, then living, who had signed the first treaty with the whites, since which he had ever observed its stipulations with scrupulous exactness, and still carefully retained a silver medal be- stowed upon him by the Government agent at that time. Some of his stories were garbed v/ith a strange romance, and though they may appear foreign to truth in many respects, I cannot resist the temptation of presenting a few of them to the reader. 90 HIGH GAMING. One day, several Indians had betted largely upon a "game of hand;"* this called forth from the old man the following story : " When a young man I delighted in war, and seidom did a party of our people visit the enemy that included me not with its number. These scars tell where I stood when arrows flew thick — hastening to spill the blood of the brave. " Rarely did we return empty-handed from the foeman's land — without horses to ride or scalps to dance. Yet, at times we came back like fools, and were ashamed to appear at the soldiers' feasts. " One of these times 1 well recollect, and I will tell of it to my white children, that they also may remember it. " We were proceeding against the Crows, and, like experienced warri- ors, had sent our spy in advance to look for the enemy. Hurrying on, in momentary expectation of a conflict, the stout hearts of our braves were appalled by his return without robe or arms, and scalpless — and with a face sufTused in blood. " This was his story : The enemy, aware of our approach, were awaiting us in great numbers. Encountering their scouts, he had been robbed and scalped, and left f jr dead. In this situation he lay till darkness shut down upon the mountain and the night-breeze gave him strength to meet us and advise our speedy return. " Believing the strange tale, we hastened to revisit our lodges, and be laughed at. " Three moons sped, and we again penetrated the land of the foemen. The scalpless warrior, far in advance of the main party, once more dis- charged the duties of a spy. " This time a whoop of triumph announced the result of his mission, as he made his appearance with the scalps of two, waving from his spear. "He tarried not to relate his adventure, but urged us instantly onward. Following him, we were led to the enemy ; — we fought and were victo- rious. " Among the slain was one whose scalp was wanting. Who has done this ? asked the wondering braves. But none answered. Our spy, smi- ling, at length broke silence : "'Behind yon hill,' said he, 'a fountain chants melody fit for warriors' ears, — let's to it, that we may drink.' " Following his direction, he led to a silvery spring overhung by crags and shaded by cottonwoods. " ' Drink, warriors,' he exclaimed ; when, withdrawing abruptly, he soon returned, and with the arms and robe which were his own in other days. " Warriors,' resumed the spy : ' you wondered at my mishap, and lamented my hard lot when last we visited the Crewman's country ; — you wondered at the condition of one among the recent slain, and asked for a reason; — and, doubtless, you wond>jr still more that I now stand before * This is a common game with the mountain Indians. It is commenced by .one of tiie players who encloses a gravel-stone or a bullet in the curve of his two hands by pla- cing the palms together, then, after sundry tosts and evolutions, suddenly parting them. If the opposing party is shrewd enough to guess in whicli hand the stone is retained, he wins ; if not not, he loses. Large amounts are often wagered upon the lesult of this play. A STRANGE STORY. 91 you bearing the store of whicli I was deprived ! — and fain you would know in what manner I obtained the hair of two. "'Three times has the night-queen turned her full face to smile upon the prowess of Lacota arms, since at this very spot I met an enemy. We rushed towards each other for the attack. 'Twas then he cried : " ' Are we not both braves ? why should we fight ? When our people meet in the fray, then may we join arms, — till then, a truce.' " ' To this I rephed, " ' Says Crowman peace ? — then, be there peace.' " ' Thus said, we shook hands and sat down by the fountain. " ' Willing to amuse the foe, I gathered a pebble and proposed a game of hand. The challenge was accepted, and we played, — first, arrow against arrow, then bow against bow, robe against robe, and scalp against scalp. " 'I was unsuccessful and lost all, — arrow, bow, robe, and scalp. I gave up all, but with the extorted promise that we should here meet again for another trial of skill. " ' True to the word, we did meet again. We played, and this time, the Good Spirit showed me kindness. " ' Winning back arrows, bow and robe, I staked them all against the lost scalp. The game was a close one ; but again the Good Spirit favored me, and I won. " ' Crowman,' said I, ' scalp against scalp.' " ' The banter was accepted, and the play continued. He lost, and I, with my winnings, arose to leave. " ' Warrior,' exclaimed the luckless player, ' meet me in the fight, that we may try the game of arms,' " ' Thy words please me,' I answered. ' Will the Crowman name the place ?' " ' A valley lies beyond this hill, — there my people await their enemies, and there let me hope to see you with them.' • " ' To that place I led you. We fought and conquered. My opponent at play was among the slain. Need I tell you who took his scalp ?' " The old man seemed to take pleasure in acquainting us w^ith the man- ners and customs of his people, and was ever ready to assign a reason for any of them, whenever such existed. He repeated to us the names of all the streams, mountains, and prominent localities of the country, and explained the causes of their several christenings. Some thirty miles lo the westward of us, flowed a large creek, called by the Indians, " Weur-sena Warkpollo," or Old Woman's creek. This stream is an affluent <5f the Chyenne river, and takes its rise at the base of a mountain bearing the same name. The mountain is an object of great veneration with the Sioux, who rarely enter into its neighborhood without bestowing upon it a present of meat. The old man entertained us with the following explanation of a custom so singular : " My grandfather told me a tale he had received from the old men before him, and it is a strange one. " Many ages past bring us back to the time when the Lacotas lived in a country far above the sun of winter.* * , * The north. 93 A STRANGE STORY. "Here, then, the Shoshone reared his white lodge, and scoured the prairies in pursuit of game ; while, as yet, the whole country abounded with lake-s and ponds of water, and only the highlands and mountains were left for the buffalo and deer. " But years passed on, — the mountains and highlands continued to prey upon the waters, and the creeks and rivers gradually reduced the limits of their possessions. " Years again fled. The Shoshones, attracted by some better region, far away, or driven from their homes by the hostile encroachments of other tribes, gave place to the Scarred-arms.* " In the course of generations, the Lacotas and the Scarred-arms war- red with each other; they fought with varied success for many years. " Once a party of the Lacotas penenetrated into the heart of the enemy's country; on their return, they fell into an ambuscade, and only six of them were left to tell the fate of their companions. " Hotly pursued by the Scarred-arms, they sought refuge in a mountain. There an obscure passage led to a recess in the mountain's side, which they entered, and were pleased to find within it a gravelly floor, and a pure fountain of sweet water. " Tempted by the conveniences and security of the place, they thouglit to remain for a few days that they might recover their strength. A small fire was built accordingly, and the six braves seated themselves around it, recounting to each other their perils and dangerous exploits, and planning some mode of extrication from their present difficulties. " Thus busied, a rustling noise from a dark corner of the apartment startled them, — but still more were they aroused by the half-disclosed form of a person moving in the distance. Words gave place to silence, as the warriors, seizing their arms, awaited the feared assault. But the figure, on advancing nearer, proved that of a feeble old woman, vi^ho addressed the wondering group in their own language. " ' Children,' said she, ' you have been against the Scarred-arms, — you have fought them, — and of a strong party, you alone survive. I know it all. " ' You seek in my lodge a refuge from your pursuers, — and the sound of your voices with the heat of your council-fire has disturbed my rest and awoke me from a long, long trance. " ' Your looks enquire my story. "'Many ages have gone, (for days, moons, seasons, and ages are painted before me as they pass,) since the Shoshones, who lived where now live the Scarred-arms, visited the lodges of the Lacotas, and bade the prairie drink the blood of slaughtered braves. I was their captive, and with the scalps of the slain I was taken from the graves of my people, many days travel. " ' The Shoshone brought me to this country, when yet the buffalo grazed upon the hills and mountains, only ; for the valleys and plains were the home of waters. "' Living with the Shoshone, I was not happy. I thought of my peo- * Chyennes. The name owes its origin to the practice of scarring the left arm crosswise yet adhered to by the males of that nation. A STRANGE STORY. 93 pie, with all those dear to me, and prayed the Good Spirit that I might again behold them ere my passage to the death-land. " ' I fled, hoping to reach the home of my birth ; — but age had enfeebled me, and being pursued, I sought refuge in this cave. Here, having passed a night and a day in earnest communion with the Big Medicine, — a strange feeling came upon me. I slumbered, in a dreamy state of consciousness, from then till now. '"But your looks again ask, who are the Shoshones ? — what became of them ? And from whence were the Scarred-arms ?' " ' The Lacotas will soon know the Shoshones, and bring from their lodges many scalps and medicine-dogs. Divided into two tribes, that nation long since sought home in other lands. One crossed the snow- hills towards the sun-setting ; — the Lacotas shall visit them, and avenge the blood and wrongs of ages. The other journeyed far away towards the sun of winter, and now live to the leftward of the places where the His- panola builds his earth-lodge.* " ' Then came the Scarred-arms from a far off country, a land of much snow and cold. Pleased with the thickly tenanted hunting grounds that here met them, they stopped for the chase, and, by a possession through successive generations, have learned to consider these grounds as their own. But they are not theirs. " ' The Great Spirit gives them to the Lacotas, and they shall inhabit the land of their daughter's captivity. " ' Why wait ye here ? Go and avenge the blood of your comrades upon the Scarred-arms. Tiiey even now light their camp-fire by the stream at the mountain's base. Fear not, — their scalps are yours ! Then return ye to my people, that ye may come and receive your inheri- tance. " ' Haste ye, that I may die. And, oh Warkantunga ! inasmuch as thou hast answered the prayer of thine handmaid, and shown to me the faces of my people, take me from hence.' " The awe-struck warriors withdrew. They found the enemy encamped at the foot of the mountain. They attacked him and were victorious ; — thirty-five scalps were the trophies of their success. " On reaching their homes the strange adventure excited the astonish- ment of the whole nation. The Scarred-arms were attacked by our war- riors, thus nerved with the hope of triumph, and were eventually driven from the country now possessed by the Locotas as their own. " The grateful braves soon sought out the mountain, to do reverence to the medicine-woman who had told them so many good things. A niche in the mountain-side, from whence issued a sparkling streamlet, told their place of refuge ; but the cave and the woman alike had disappeared. " Each successive season do our warriors visit the Shoshones for scalps and medicine-dogs, — and each of our braves, as he passes the Old Woman's * It is a singular fact, that the Cumanches and Snakes, (Shoshones,) though living nearly a thousand miles distant from eacli other, with hostile tribes intervening, speak precisely the same language, and call themselves by the same general name. They have lost all tradition, liowever, of having formed one nation, in any previous age. 94 THE DEATH SONG. mountain, fails not to bestow upon it his tribute of veneration, or quench his thirst from the creek that bears her name." A place on White river — where the stream pours its full force against the base of a lofty peak, and the powerful attrition of its waters has formed a rocky precipice of several hundred feet in height — is known as " The Death Song." The singularity of this name led me to enquire the reasons which prompted its bestowment. Ever ready to answer questions of this nature, the old chief related the following story : " Once, on a time, the Oglallas and Burnt-thighs held their encampmert upon the river, opposite to the high point of which m.y son enquires. While there, a dog-soldier* of the Burnt-thighs received the offer of six horses from an Oglalla brave, for his only daughter — a sweet flower — such an one as oft pierces the warrior's heart with her charms, when the arrows of ene- mies fall harmless at his feet. The offer was quickly accepted — for the dog-soldier was poor. '• When Chischille (for that was the name of the fair one) heard she was to become the wife of the Oglalla, she cried for grief, — and so obstinate was her resistance, the marriage was deferred for several days on that account. " But, why did ("hischille grieve ? She had looked upon a handsome warrior of her own village, and she loved him. She forgot her duty, as a daughter, to love only at her father's bidding. Her heart had been playing truant and had lost itself in the labyrinths of girlish fancy. Bitter were the fruits of that presumption. " Chischille, in the interval, contrived to meet the one of her choice, and the two fled towards a distant village, there to live in the undisturbed en- joyment of their youthful loves. " But, alas, for them ! They were pursued, and overtaken. The hfe of the young warrior atoned for his temerity, — while Chischille was cruelly beaten and brought back to her father's lodge. " The Oglalla had already paid the purchase price, and, ere the morrow's sunset, was to receive his fair prize at the hand of the dog-soldier. " Chischille, arising with the dawn, fresh-plaited her hair, and arraying herself in her proudest attire, left the lodge. No one thought strange at seeing her thus gaily dressed for her wedding day, and, as she tripped along, many a warrior's heart beat high and loud at the thought that a creature so lovely was to become the bride of another. " Directing her course to the river, she crossed it and ascended the high peak upon the opposite side. There, seating herself upon the utmost verge of the precipice, she gazed calmly from its dizzy height. ' " In her lofty station, with her raven locks streaming in the winds, and the matchless beauty of her person so enchantingly exposed to view, she seemed more like a being of the Spirit-Land than aught human. The sweetest prairie-flower was ne'er half so lovely. " Her strange attitude arrested the eyes of all. " 'Why sits she there ? — she will fall and be dashed to pieces !' was the general cry. ' But listen — she sings !' * This is the title of those selected to superintend the civil affairs of a village. j ASTONISHING FEATS OF JUGGLERY. 95 "'Why should I stay, — he is gone. Light of my eyes, — ^joy of my Boul, — show me thy dwelling ! — 'Tis not here, — 'tis far away in the Spirit Land. Thither he is gone. Why should I stay ? Let me go !' " ' Hear you that ?' said one. ' She sings her death song. She will throw herself from the clifT!' " At this, a dozen warriors, headed by him who claimed her hand, started to rescue tlie sweet singer from intended self-destruction. " Again she chants : " ' Spirit of Death, set me free ! Dreary is earth. Joyless is time. Heart, thou art desolate ! Wed thee another ? Nay. Death is thy husband ! Farewell, oh sun ! Vain is your light. Farewell, oh earth ! Vain are your plains, your flowers, your grassy dales, your purling streams, and shady groves ! I loved you once, — but now no longer love ! Taste- less are your sweets, — cheerless your pleasures ! Thee I woo, kind Death ! Wahuspa calls me hence. In life we were one. We'll bask together in the Spirit Land. Who shall sunder there ? Short is my pass to thee. Wahuspa, I come !' " Upon this she threw herself forward, as the warriors grasped at her ; but, leaving her robe in their hands, she plunged headlong and was dashed to pieces among the rocks below !* " E'er since, the young warrior sighs as he beholds this peak, and thinks of the maiden's death song." Conversing upon the subject of medicine-men, he was asked, why those individuals are so highly esteemed by his people ? To this he replied : " These men are regarded as the peculiar favorites of the Great Spirit, to whom is imparted a more than ordinary share of His power and wisdom. We respect them, therefore, in proportion to the abilities they receive, even as we reverence the Great Spirit." Here the question was proposed, how are their abilities above those of others ? " The Yellow-hair counts as his soldier Tahtunga-mobellu, — a man of strong medicine. To him the Great Spirit has imparted the power of heal- ing, by imbibing, at pleasure, the diseases of the sick, and discharging them from his eyes and nose in the form of live snakes.f " On a time, years past, our young men went to the Pawnees and came back crying ; for sixteen slain of their number were left to grace an enemy's triumph. v " It was winter, and the moans of men and maidens mingled with the howling winds. Sorrow beclouded every brow, and brave looked upon brave as if to enquire, ' Who shall wipe out this disgrace ?' Then it was a medicine-chief stood up, and his words were : " ' Be it for me to consult the Good Spirit.' * A tale which went the rounds of the public prints, several years since, entitled the " Maiden's Leap," affords a seeming coincidence in the mode of suicide ; but, by comparing the two, the reader will observe a broad dissimilarity of detail. In pen- ning the above I was guided solely by the leading incidents as related in my hearing, t Tahtunga-mobellu receives the averment of all his villagers in proof of this strange feat. 9 96 THE MEDICINE-MAN. *' So saying, he entered his lodge alone, nor suffered any to come near during the long fast that followed. Darkness had closed four times upon the prairie, and the sun again hastened to hide behind the mountain peaks, when, calling the young men to him, the medicine-man said : " ' Fetch me now meat and water, with a new robe, and bid my people come near, that they may know the words that I would speak.' " The obedient braves made haste and did as bidden. Folding the robe, he sat upon it and partook of the refreshments placed before him. After eating he arose, and six large snakes, crawling from the robe one after another, sprang to his shoulder, and, whispering in his ear, vanished from sight. The last snake had just told his message when the chief began : " ' The Good Spirit wills it, that we remove from hence. Three moons being dead, let three hundred warriors return, and their hearts shall be made glad with medicine-dogs and the scalps of enemies.' "The village left, and, at the time appointed, the warriors returned. They met the enemy, — fought, and were victorious. Sixty-three scalps and one hundred medicine-dogs were the fruits of their success." Before dismissing the subject, many other particulars were cited in proof of the extraordinary abilities of different medicine-men, but the above being the most remarkable, I have thought proper to pass over the remainder in silence. Note. — ^.n account, still more wonderful than either of the foregfoing, was subse- quently narrated in my hearing, while among the Arapaho Indians; and, without vouching for the truth of all its particulars, I am unwilling to withhold it from the reader. The performance alluded to is said to have occurred, some three years since, in the presence of the whole Arapaho village, incredible as it may seem. The actor was a Riccaree by nation, and is well known to the mountain traders. In the centre of a large circle of men, women, and children, stood the subject of the appended sketch, stripped to the waist, as the gunner's mark. A shot perforated his body w^ith a bullet, which entered at the chest and emerged from the opposite side. He instantly fell, and the blood flowing in streams dyed the grass where he lay, and everything seemed to prefigure the reality of death. While in this condition, his wife approached and besprinkled his face with water ; soon after which he arose, as from a slumber — the blood still pouring from him. Beplastering his wound with mud before and behind, the blood ceased to flow, when he commenced yawning and stretching ; in a few minutes the plaster was removed by a pass of tlie hand, and neither blood, nor wound, nor the sign of a scratch or scar appeared ! There stood the self-restored medicine-man, before the wondering throng, alive and well, and in all the pride of his strength ! He then brought his naked son into the ring, a lad of some eight years, and, stand- ing at a distance of several yards, bow in hand, he pierced liim through and through, from diaphragm to vertebra, at three successive shots. The boy fell dead, to every appearance, and the thick blood freely coursed from his wounds. The performer then clasped the body in his arms and bore it around the ring for the inspection of all, three times in succession. Upon this he breathed into his mouth and nostrils, and, after suffusing his face with water and covering his wounds with a mud plaster, he commenced brief manipulations upon his stomach, which soon ended in a complete recovery, nor left a single trace of injury about him. Both of these feats, if performed as said, can scarcely admit the possibility of trick or slight of hand, ami must stand as the most astonishing instances of jugglery on lecord. 97 CHAPTER XL Food for horses. — Squaws and their performances. — Dogs and dog-meat. — Return to Fort. — Starvation. — Travel by guess. — Death from drinking. — Medicine-making.— A burial. — Little Lodge and the French trader. — A speech in council. — Journey to Wliite river. — tligh winds and deep snow. — Intense sufierings and painful results. A LARGE grove of Cottonwood near us, day after day was graced by groups of village squaws, armed with axes, for the procurement of lior.'je food. The bark of this tree is eaten freely by both horses and mules, and answers well as a substitute for corn or oats. Animals will thrive upon it in a remarkable manner, and even in the summer months they prefer it to grass. The bark of red elm is also used for the same purpose. The operations of the squaws at such times contributed greatly to our amusement. Climbing fearlessly to the topmost branch of the highest tree, they would there lop off the surrounding boughs, with as much appa- rent ease as though footed upon terra jirma. And then, the enormous loads they would carry, lashed together with cords and slung to their backs, were enough to make a giant stagger. Dogs, harnessed to travees, had their part to perform, and ofttimes were they a source of vexation to their mistresses. A squaw, trudging along under a full donkey-load of cottonwood, and followed by a squad of half-naked children, presented a spectacle quite in- teresting ; but this was rendered rather comical, withal, when two or three draught-dogs with their heavy-laden travees reluctantly brought up the rear — every now and then lying down for weariness, or squatting to loll and gaze at their companions. Now, she coaxes and caresses to urge them forward — they still delay. Then she turns briskly towards them with a stick, — get out, dogs ! — " Yierh ! Warktashne ceicha," cries the squaw, accompanying her denun- ciation with blows, and away go the yelping troop as fast as legs can carry tliem. Dogs are the necessary appendage of every Indian lodge, and generally form an equal portion of the village population. They present almost all the different varieties of the canine species, from the wolf to the spaniel, and from the spaniel to the hairless dog of Africa. The wolf, however, is predominant, and, taken together, they more assimilate a gang of wolves than anything else. Indeed, the different varieties of prairie wolves hold familiar intercourse with the village dogs, and associate with them on friendly terms. The species used for draught, is a large, stout-built, wolfish-looking creature, of the Exquimaux breed. Trained to his duties in early life, he is generally both submissive and tractable. The drudgery of a squaw, which is at all times onerous, without his ready aid would prove past endurance. 98 MEDICINE-MAKL\G. But these dogs are also useful in another respect. Their flesh fur- nishes an article highly esteemed for food, and which almost invariably graces the soldiers' feast and every other scene of conviviality. However much the squamishness of the reader may revolt at the suggestion, justice impels me to say, the flesh of a fat Indian dog, suitably cooked, is not infe- rior to fresh pork ; and, by placing side by side select parts of the two, it would be no easy task even for a good judge to tell the difference, by either looks or taste, unless he were previously informed. Towards the last of January, buffalo having left the vicinity, the Indians, as a necessary consequence, were compelled to move. A great scarcity of provisions prevailed among them, and we ourselves were scarcely better off than they. Our stock in hand was nearly exhausted, and an abandonment of the post became absolutely necessary, — a thing, however, which could not be performed without a fresh supply of horses and cattle from Fort Platte. For this purpose, I volunteered my services, and, accompanied by two engages, was promptly under way. A few hours' ride brought us to the head of White river, where, con- suming at a meal our scanty eatables, from that onward we were left en- tirely destitute. This was the first occasion subjecting me to the pains of hunger for so long a time. The second day I experienced the greatest annoyance, and then it was I felt some of the realities of starvation. The third day, how- ever, I awoke in the morning scarcely thinking of breakfast. In fact, my appetite seemed quite passive, and the only sensation I felt was a kind of weakness and lassitude, evincing the lack of proper nourish- ment. The morning was cloudy and threatening. Soon after leaving camp, snow began to fall, thick and fast. The day proved so dark, objects were indiscernible at the distance of a hundred yards in advance. Travelling, as we were, over a trackless prairie, with nothing to guide us but the wind and the position of the grass, it was by the merest accident we reached our destination a few minutes before nightfall. Our sudden appearance was the occasion of general surprise to the Fort hands, and, after a brief explanation, we began to make amends for previous abstinence. At first, a few mouthfuls sufficed, — but soon I again felt hungry and could be satisfied only with a double quantity, — in an equally short time my stomach demanded a still further supply, and, by the next day, hunger became so keen it seemed almost insatiable. An interval of three or four weeks was requisite before it assumed its wonted tone. During our stay here, an Indian family, occupying one of the Fort rooms, indulged themselves in a drunken spree. Having procured a quantity of the American Fur Company's liquor, the effects of their lavish potations soon became manifest to all within hearing distance. But the din of drunken revelry erelong assumed the wail of mourning and sorrow. Hearing the strange commotion, I entered the room to ascertain the A BURIAL. 99 cause. There lay, helpless upon the floor, and apparently at the point of death, a squaw of some eighteen years ; — she, in lier eagerness, had swal- lowed nearly a pint of the vile stuff, undiluted, and now experienced its dreadful consequences. But most conspicuous in the throng was a largo, obose, cross-eyed Indian, earnestly engaged in his medicine-performances for her recovery. A breech-cloth was his sole garb, as, with eyes half strained from their sockets and volving in a strange unearthly manner, he stood, first upon one foot and then upon the other, alternately — then, stamping the floor as if to crush it through, and meanwhile, grunting, screeching, and bellowing, and beating his breast or the wall with his clenched fists, — then, with inhaled breath, swelling like a puff-ball, he would bend over his patient and apply sugescents to her mouth, throat and breast. This done, sundry ejections of saliva prepared his mouth for the recep- tion of an ample draught of water, with which he bespatted her face and forehead. But yet, all these extraordinary eflbrts failed to produce their designed effect. The poor squaw grew weaker, and her breathing became fainter and more difficult. Some powerful restorative must be adopted, or she will soon be beyond the reach of medicine, — so thought the officiating doctor ; or, at least, his succeeding antics indicated that such were the cogitations of his mind. Standing for a minute or two in the attitude of reflection, an idea stuck him. Ah, he has it now ! This cannot fail. Snatching a butcher-knife and hastening with it to the fire, he heats the point to redness upon the coals, — then balancing it between his teeth, at a toss he flings it vaulting above his head and backward upon the floor, — then, re-catching it, he goes through the performance a second and a third time. Thus premised, he addresses himself with threefold energy to the gro- tesque and uncouth manoeuvres before described. If he had stamped his feet, he now stamps them with a determination hitherto unknown ; — if he had thumped his breast and beat the walls, he now thumps and beats as if each blow were intended to prostrate the object against which it was directed, — if he had grunted, screeched, and bellowed, he now grunts, screeches, bellows, and yells, till the very room quakes with the reverberations of demoniac noise ; — if he had gagged, pufied, and swelled, he now gags, puffs, and swells, as" if he would explode from the potency of his extraor- dinary inflations. Then, with an air of confidence, he hies to his patient and commences a process of manipulation from her breast downwards, and reverse, — and then again he repeats his previous operations, with scrupulous exactness and unsparing effort, in all their variei minutiee. But, alas for the medicine-man ! — the squaw died, despite the omnipo- tence of his skill ! Then was enacted another such a scene of piteous wailing, as Indians alone have in requisition, as vent for their grief, After the usual preliminaries, the corpse of the deceased was placed upon a scaffold beside that of Susu-ceicha, the old chief of whom I have spoken in a former chapter. Each member of the bereaved family depoa- 9* 100 SPEECH OF LITTLE LODGE. ited a tuft of hair in the sack containing the meat and trinkets placed beneath her head. A smooth piece of cottonwood slab was then affixed to the scaffold, upon which were traced, in vermilion, certain quadrangular characters of unknown meaning, — answering well to the idea of an inscription of name and age. A difficulty occurred about this time between a trader of the American Fur Company and an Oglalla chief, known as Little Lodge. The latter had become crazed by liquor, and, being rather turbulent, was put out of the Fort. But, effecting a re-entrance, he again proved equally annoying. The trader then commenced quarrelling with him, and under- took to seize his arms. This the Indian resisted, when the trader discharg- ed a pistol at him, but missed his object. Here was a deadly affront, that blood alone could wipe away. With great difficulty, the Indian was finally disarmed and bound. He was thus secured till the next day, when he was liberated ; — still, however, he muttered threats of revenge. Two or three weeks subsequently. Little Lodge was present at a soldiers' feast, and the question of war with the Americans was a prominent sub- ject of consideration. Several speeches were made, both for and against it ; and, though the prevailing sentiment seemed to be of an adverse kind, it scarcely required a half dozen w^ords to turn the scale upon either side. Little Lodge arose to address the council, and the friends of the whites, knowing the vengeful spirit that yet rankled in his bosom at the remem- brance of his recent injuries, began to fear for the continuance of peace. Contrary to the universal expectation, he contended for its maintenance. " But," said he, " Little Lodge has grievances of his own, and they call for redress. " There is one among the pale-faces whose blood must wash away the foul blot that rests upon the name of Little Lodge. I know him well. He is not a Long-knife. The Long-knives are all the friends of Little Lodge. Let the Lacota take them by the hand whenever he meets them upon the prairie. It is good that he do so. I'hey are very many and ex- ceedingly rich. Their country is a large one, and far away towards the sunrising. They, too, are strong for war. They have big hearts and strong, and they are very good to the red man. They bring to him many good things ; why, then, should the Lacota hate the Long-knife ? " Do my brothers ask who it is of the pale-faces the Little Lodge would remove from the light of day ? Know, then, he is not of the Long-knives, — he is of the Warceichas, (Frenchmen.) The Warceichas are not Long- knives ! " And, do my brothers ask, who are the Warceichas ? " Aye, who are they]? Little Lodge cannot tell ; — who of all the Laco- tas can ? Who ever heard of the country of these men ? No one. They have no country, — they are no people. They are are as the wandering dogs * that infest our hunting grounds and prey upon the game formed by the Good Spirit for the red man's sustenance. They steal into the land of * Chunka-monet, or travelling dogs, is the name applied by these Indians to wolves. INTENSE SUFFERING. 101 the red man, and sneak around from place to place ; — for they have no home ; they have no country ; they are no people ! " One of these it was who bade the medicine-iron speak its death-word to Little Lodge, and sought to spill the blood of a Lacota brave, after that he had made him a fool by means of his thickened* fire-water! " Should Little Lodge fall by the hand of the Warceicha ? He might fall by the hand of a Long-knife, and the nation would honor his memory, — but never, should the Warceicha bring him low ! " Then, is it not good that Little Lodge should be avenged upon this lost dog — this outcast of the world — that the whelps of a motherless breed may cease to insult and wrong the Lacotas ? Which of all my brothers will say nay ?" The address was received in silence, — no one presuming to oppose an answer to its sentiments. Whether the speaker executed his threats of vengeance against the offending trader, I am yet unadvised. Having remained two nights and a day at Fort Platte, we again started for White river, taking with us three yoke of oxen and several horses, one of which was laden with dried meat. The snow greatly retarded our progress from the first, and so obscured the trail we were compelled to travel mostly by guess. The sun, too, was shut out by a tenebrous atmosphere, and we could judge of our proper course only by observing the movements of the clouds,f with the general range of the hills and ravines, or inclination of the grass. The broad expanse of unbroken snow lying from Rawhide to L'eau-qui- court, brought a chill tremor with the thought of crossing it. Yet, go we must ! It was no time to falter when the fate of others, perhaps, depend- ed upon our prompt advance. But the elTort was no child's play. If we had experienced a tedious time during a former journey, what could we expect now ? The whole interval of thirty miles was covered with snow, that grew deeper and deep- er as we proceeded. Every hollow and ravine was filled, and the route otherwise seriously impeded by huge drifts and embankments. We were frequently compelled to break foot-paths for our animals, and ever and anon pull them by main strength from the deep pitfalls into which they would plunge and become almost lost to view. In this manner our progress was slow, — the average depth through which we waded being but little less than two feet. The rising of a fierce head wind, piercing as the blasts of Nova Zem- bla, drove the snow into our faces with mad fury and added immeasurably to our sufl^erings. * Allusion is here made to the drugged liquor supposed to have been palmed upon him by the trader. t The idea of directing our course by the movements of the clouds is doubtless a novel suggestion to most readers ; but its philosophy will be readily comprehended by a bare mention of the fact, that the winds of these regions almost invariably blow from a west-southwest point; and, as they are usually high, it is no very extraordi- nary performance to calculate the bearing of north or south, even in the most obscure weather. 102 A HORRIBLE CONDITION. In this manner night shut down upon us, while yet far distant from any camping-place. And, such a night ! Oh, storms and deadly w inter, foul and fierce ! how swept ye " through the darkened sky," and with your awful howlings rendered "the savage wilderness more wild !" The creeping cold on every nerve played freely, in haste to sting our vitals, and lay us each " along the snows a stiffen'd corse, Stretch 'd out and bleaching in the northern blast !" The impress of this event can never be effaced from my mind. It was midnight ere we arrived at the limberless L'eau-qui-court and struck camp. Our animals needed water, but we had neither axe or tomahawk to cut through the thick ice with which the creek was coated. As a remedy for this lack, all three of us advanced upon it, and, by our united efforts at jumping, caused a lengthy fissure with gentle escarpments to- wards each shore, that left midway an ample pool. Having driven the cattle to this, in their clumsy movements upon the ice, two of them fell, and, sliding down the inclined plain, lay struggling in the freezing water, unable to rise. Our only resort was to drag them to the shore by main strength ; for, left in their then condition, they must have frozen to death in a very short time. Here commenced a series of pulling and wrenching, that, in our chilled and exhausted state, we were ill-prepared to endure. For awhile our efforts proved vain. A backward-slide succeeded each headway-pull, and vexed us with useless toil. Thus we worried for nearly tliree hours in water knee-deep ! At length, having procured a rope and fastened one end to their horns and the other around a pointed rock upon the shore, and gathering the slack at each successive thrust, we finally succeeded in placing them both, one after the other, upon dry land. But, now we were in a thrice sorry plight. Not a stick of wood could be raised, far or near, of which to build a fire, and bois de vacTie, the great substitute of the prairies, was too deeply covered with snow for procure- ment. Our clothes, wet to the waist, were frozen upon us, and the merci- less wind, with stinging keenness, pierced us through at every breath, and stood us forth as living monuments of ice ! Could men of iron endure such incomprehensible hardships, — such in- expressible sufferings ? Yet we survived them all ! Spreading a few robes upon the snow, we lay down for sleep, dinnerless and supperless. I was now seized with a chill, which lasted for two hours or more ; and so violent were its actions I could scarcely keep the covering upon me. My companions, however, though not similarly afflicted, were worse off than myself One had his hands and ears frozen, and the other his hands and feet, — the painful consequences of which, as the frost began to yield to the influence of generated warmth, were too apparent in their groans and writhings. Morning at length came, and the sun arose bright and clear. The HORSE ATTACKED BY WOLVES.— Pa ^e 103. HORSES DEVOURED BY WOLVES. 103 winds had ceased their ragings, and a clement atmosphere seemed pouring upon us the bahn of sympathy for miseries so recently endured. But their direful effects were not thus easily eradicated. The feet of one poor fellow were so badly frozen, it w^as three months before he entirely recovered ; while another lost a portion of one of his ears. As for myself, a severe cold settled in my teeth, producing an intensely painful ache and swoollen face, that continued for eight or ten days. It seems almost miraculous that we should have escaped so easily, and often, even after so long an interval, I shudder at the recollection of this anguishing scene. Two days subsequently we reached our destination, and found all things pretty much in statu quo. CHAPTER XII. Another drunken spree. — Horses devoured by wolves. — An upset.— A blowing up.— Daring feat of wolves.— A girl offered for liquor.— Winter on the Platte.— Boat building. — Hunting expedition. — Journey up the Platte. — Island camp. — Narrow escape. — Snow storm — Warm Spring. — Pass of the Platte into the prairies. — A valley. — Bitter Cottonwood. — Indian forts. — Wild fruit. — Root-digging. — Cherry tea and its uses. — Geology of the country.— Soils, grasses, herbs, plants, and purity of atmosphere. — Horse-shoe creek. — A panther. — Prairie dogs and their pecuhar- ities. Our intended evacuation of the post was posponed till the week follow- ing, and, meanwhile, the few customers, that still hung on, were careful to improve the passing opportunity of steeping their seiises in liquor. Another general drunken frolic was the consequence, ending as usual in a fight and still further attempts upon the life of our trader. Soon after this, our catalogue of disasters was increased bv the death of two horses, which fell a prey to Avolves. The case was an aggravated one, and provoking in the extreme. Both of them were "buffalo horses," and the fleetest and most valuable in our possession, — in fact, they were the only ones of which we ventured to boast. vVe had others of little worth, so poor and feeble they could oppose none resistance to magpies,* and much less to the rapacity of w^olves. But, no. These blood-thirsty depredators, desirous of a feast of fat things, were determined to have it, reckless of cost, — and, the encrimsoned tracks, coursing the snowy plain in every direction where passed the swift * The magpie of the mountains is the torment of all sore-backed horses, particularly during the winter season. Despite opposition it will feed upon their sldnless flesh, often to the very bones. 104 BOAT BUILDING. chargers in vain effort to escape, proved that they won their supper at an enormous expense of leg-wear. Feb. 4th. All things being in readiness, we bade farewell to winter- ijuarters, and commenced our journey. Crossing the river soon after, on ascending the opposite bank, a cart up- set and deposited its contents in the water. The load, consisting of robes and powder, became thoroughly saturated, and we were employed a full hour in fishing it out. The stream being waist-deep and filled with floating ice, amid which we were forced to plunge, our task was far from a pleasant one. The freight needed drying, and we were detained two days for that pur- pose. Meanwhile the drenched powder was subjected to the experiments of one of our engages. Having spread it to dry, he was carelessly bend- ing over it, when a spark from the camp-fire struck the ready ignitible ; a spriglitly flash, enveloping the luckless wight in a sheet or flame, told the instant result. Springing to his feet, he exclaimed : " Bless my stars ! That's what I call regular blowing up .'" " Aye, aye, my lad," says one. " You was always a bright youth, — but never before did you appear half so brilliant. 'Tis a fact, or I'm a liar !" R-esuming our course, the second night following was passed at a pool of water between L'eau-qui-court and Rawhide. Here, having placed my shoes under my head for better security, I slept soundly till morning. Rising at an early hour, I turned for tliem, but one was missing, and, after searching far and near, it could not be found. The mystery of its disappearance, however, was fully solved by the nu- merous wolf tracks that appeared on all sides ; — some straggling marauder had stolen it during the night, and quietly deposited it in his empty stomach as the substitute for an early breakfast. Our camp at Rawhide was beset with a throng of Indians from an adjoin- ing village, who, as usual, were loudly clamorous and importunate for liquor. A beautiful young squaw was brought in, to exchange for that article. However, their solicitations were of no avail and their vitiated appetites went unappeased. On the 12th of February we reached the Fort, and thus ended our disas- trous and eventful expedition. Winter in the neighborhood of the Platte had been remarkably mild, and at no time during the season had the snow remained upon the ground to exceed a day. Vegetation, even thus early, was beginning to put forth, and bring to view the beauty and loveliness of spring. Preparations were already on foot for building a boat for the transporta- tion of fur^ to the States by way of the river, and, at the solicitation of of the company's agent, I reluctantly consented to take charge of it during the voyage, — thus deferring, for the present, my design of visiting Oregon. The timber used in its construction was procured from the neighboring pine hills, and prepared by a laborious process of hand, with the aid of a pit-saw. Tlie ribs and other timber were obtained from an ash grove, a few A PETTY IX)0 ICING SET. 105 miles above the Fort, and three men were busily engaged in putting all things in readiness for the expected spring rise — an event which seldom occurs before the 1 5th of May. The winter's trade having closed, an interval of nearly three months' leisure followed, which resulted in a hunting expedition that included my- self with six others. Anxious to explore the mountains, we set our faces westward ; but, owing to the reported closeness of game en route, very little provisions were taken with other necessaries. Keeping the river bottom by a rocky ridge for some ten miles, our course led through several beautiful groves and broad stretches of rich alluvial soil, that presented an encouraging prospect to agriculturists. After a few hours' ride we came to a point at which the stream sweeps round the ridge's base, causing a vertical wall of lias and sandstone nearly one hun- dred and fifty feet high. Abandoning the river bottom at this place, we ascended to the high prairie on the left, where an interesting plateau greeted us, extending far away to the south and west, till it became lost in the neighboring moun- tains. Continuing on a short distance, we again struck the river, at a small opening between two hills, and made camp in a grove of willows. Opposite this place is a large heavily wooded island, of a blueish loam, upon a subtratum of fossiliferous limestone. Above and below are lofty walls of limestone and ferruginous rock, that, in many places, overhang the sweeping waters at their base, and form roof- age beneath which swarms of prairie swallows are wont to raise their annual broods. Consuming our scanty supply of provisions at a single meal, each soon disposed of himself for the night. A mild atmosphere invited to repose ; and, enwrapped in a single robe, my troubles were speedily forgotten in a quiet slumber. But during the succeeding interval, a change came over the spirit of my dream. I was suddenly aroused by the crash of a huge tree, that fell across my bed, and only a providential curve arching upwards, had saved me from instant death ! " Hurra, for me !" I exclaimed, as my startled campmates came cluster- ing around, — " It's better to be born lucky than rich!" The wind was nov/ blowing a perfect hurricane, and the trees tottered around us, threatening every moment to fall. In an hour or so, however, the gale abating, we again addressed ourselves to sleep. Towards morning, feeling a disagreeable warmth and superincumbent pressure, I was induced to uncover, and, looking out, the cause was ex- plained by the presence of a dense snow that covered the ground to the depth of several inches. The fallen snow was melting fast, and that yet descending soon merged into rain. A pretty-looking set of felloMrs were we, in a comparatively short time ! — blankets, robes, clothes, and every article about us were wet — soaking wet — and covered with mud. It required an effort of several hours to kindle a fire, so thoroughly saturated was everything with water ; — thi^ done, we all gathered around it, and — such a group ! — Oh, the beauties of mud and water ! A painter might describe it, — I cannot. 106 - INDIAN FORTS. If the reader imagines we felt in a superlative good humor while stand- ing there, breakfastless, shivering, and wet, he has conjured up a strange illusion. It having ceased raining about mid-day, in the course of the afternoon we enjoyed a beautiful sunshine for a couple of hours, which enabled us to assume a better tmvelling plight ; and, favored by a mild atmosphere and clear sky, on the following morning, we again resumed our course. Striking upon an Indian trail, we bore leftward from the river, and, in a short ride, came to a sand creek shut in by precipitous embankments of limestone, through which our road led by a narrow defile. A transparent spring gushes from the right bank with considerable noise, furnishing a beautiful streamlet to its hitherto high bed, which is known as the " Warm Spring." A short distance above the mouth of this creek, the Platte makes its final egress from the Black Hills through a tunnel-1-Jke pass, walled in upon either side by precipitous cliffs of red-sandstone and siliceous lime- stone, sometimes overhanging the stream at their base, and towering to a height of from three to five hundred feet. The high table lands consti- tuting these immense walls, are surmounted with shrubs and occasional pines and cedars, that unite to present a wild romantic scenery. Continuing on, and bearing still further leftward, we passed a beautiful valley, graced with several springs and a small grove of cottonwood, with cherry and plum bushes, near which rose a conical hill abundant in fos- siliferous limestone of a snowy whiteness. A diminutive pond in the vicin- ity afforded several varieties of the testaceous order, both bivalves and univalves — a circumstance quite rare among mountain waters. The soil of this locality appeared to be a compound of clay, sand, and marl, and well adapted to agriculture. Passing this, our course led over a gently undulating prairie, bounded on either side by pine hills. The soil was generally of a reddish, sandy loam, intermixed with clay ; and, judging from the long dry grass of the preceding year, it was both rich and productive. Towards night we arrived at a laj-ge creek, bearing the name of Bitter Cottonwood, — so called from the abundance of that species of poplar in its valley. These trees generally grow very tall and straight with expansive tops, — averaging from twenty-five to one hundred and fifty feet in height. The creek occupies a wide, sandy bed, over which the water is dispersed in several shallow streams. The valley is broad and of a jetty, vegetable mould, variegated, at intervals, with layers of gravel deposited by aqueona currents, and is bounded on both sides by abrupt acclivities leading to the beautiful plateaux and lofty pine hills so abundant in the neighborhood. The remains of three or four Indian forts were situated adjoining the place selected for our encampment. These were built of logs, arranged in a circular form, and enclosing an area, sufficient for the accommodation of twenty or thirty warriors. The walls were generally about six feet high, with single entrances, and apertures in various places for the use of their defenders in case of attack. All Indian forts, meeting my observation in subsequent travels, with one or two exceptions, were of the same general description. Some, however I CHERRY TEA. 107 are almost entirely roofed in by an arched covering, presenting a coniform appearance. The only exception to this mode of ibrtilication was of a quadrangular form, and in a solitary instance the materials were of rock. The latter structure I shall take occasion to describe in due course. The valley gave abundant indication of wild fruit at the proper season, — such as plums, cherries, currants, goose and buffalo berries, (shepherdia argenlea.) The signs of game were very plentiful, particularly elk ; — after camp two or three of us sallied out with our rifles in quest of these wary animals, while others were busily employed in digging for roots to appease the gnawing of appetite, which began to make itself most sensibly felt by all. About sundown both parties came in, — the hunters quite dispirited, not having seen any thing in the shape of elk or other game, — but the root diggers had been more lucky and brought with them a small supply of nutritious aliments, which were divided equally among the company, — and, through scarcely a half dozen mouthfuls were apportioned to each, they answered, to some extent, the designed object. These roots consisted of two varieties, viz : pomme hlanc, and com- mote. The pomme hlanc, or white apple, is a native of the prairies and moun- tains, oval shaped and about three and a half inches in circumference. It is encased in a thin fibrous tegument, which, when removed, exposes an interior of white pulpy substance, much like a turnip in taste. It gen- erally grows at a depth of three or four inches, in the soil of hill-sides and plateaux, where is found a reddish clay loam abundant in fragmentary rocks and gravel. The stalk attains a height of about three inches, and in general description is quite like a well known article, common to the States, called " sheep-sorrel." At the proper season it bears a handsome white blossom, that would suffer no disparagement when placed in juxtaposi- tion with many of the choicer specimens of our gardens. The commote* is a root much like the common radish in size and shape, while a brownish skin envelopes a substance of milky whiteness, soft and nutritious, and of an agreeable taste. It is found most abundant in river bottoms, and requires a rich alluvial soil, w'ell mixed with sedimentary deposites and vegetable matter. It generally penetrates to a depth of about four inches. Its leaves resemble those of the carrot in shape and color, and seldom grow to exceed two inches from the ground, while a stalk equally unpretending, bears a blueish blossom, not w^ithout some just claim to beauty. The pomme hlanc and commote are equally good whether boiled or raw, and are uniformly harmless, even with those unaccustomed to their use as an article of food. Making way with our scanty supply, a fire was struck and a kettle of tea prepared from wild cherry bark, which proved quite wholesome. This, as I ascertained, is a drink quite common among mountaineers and Indians in the spring season, and is used for purifying the blood and reducing it to suitable consistency for the temperature of summer. As tlie successful performer of the task assigned, I most cordially attest to * I am ignorant of the meaning or derivation of this name. 10 108 FASTING AND FEASTING. its virtues, and recommend it as the most innocent and eflfective medicine, if medicine it may be called, that can be employed for a result so neces- sary to general health. Early on the succeding day we resumed our journey. I now for the first time noticed a gradual change in the geological character of the country. The soil in many places appears to be sterile, and is generally of a red clayish nature, mixed with sand and fragmentary rock, and strongly impregnated with mineral salts, among which nitre forms a prominent component. Some spots, for a considerable extent, are entirely destitute of vegetation, and present a surface whitened by saline efflorescences, among which nitre and sulphate of soda form a predominant part. The character of the various moulds (with the exception of the allu- vion in the vicinity of the rivers and creeks) is almost entirely primitive, like numerous strata of rocks upon which they repose. The grass, from the dry specimens of the previous summer's growth, appeared to be of a longer and a coarser kind, and more sparse and iso- lated. The short buffalo-grass of the grand prairie had almost entirely disappeared, — in some places a blueish salt grass (herba salee) showed itself in plats uncropped by game. Artemisie,* or rather greasewood of the mountaineers, became quite abundant, as did absinthe, or wild sage, together with severals specimens of the cadi family, which are the common pest of the mountain prairies. The purifying effects of saline exhalations, with the odor of the grease- wood and absinthe of the prairies, plateaux and table lands, and the balsam and cedar of the adjacent mountains, afforded an atmosphere, even at this unfavorable season, as aromatic as the air of Eden and as wholesome as the deathless clime of Elysium. Eastward lay a broad expanse of prairie, bounded only by the horizon, while westward and upon either hand, the high summits of the Black Hills, with their pines and snows, told our ingress to other and wilder scenes. Our course for some twenty or twenty-five miles led through a broad valley, though occasionally winding among rugged hills of red-sandstone and primitive rock, with denuded sides and level summits, covered with shrubs and dwarfish pines. Towards night, on reaching a small stream, called Horse-shoe creek, we struck camp. One of the party having killed a buck deer, we were promptly on hand, and not at all backward in obeying the calls of appe- tite, sharpened by a continuous abstinence of three days. * Lt. Fremont, in his report relative to the proceedings of the expedition of 1842, '3, and '4, has designated some three varieties of shrubs by the general term arte- misie, among which are greasewood and prairie sage. Although the latter are of the same family, the difference in their appearance is so marked, I have thought it proper to observe a nominal distinction, and for that reason, they are called in eubsequent pages by teims fanuliar to the mountaineers. PRAIRIE DOGS. 109 Deer-meat at this season of the year is very poor eatinor, — especially that of the buck, — it being both lean and tough ; but, indiiferent as it was, we were too hungry to be nice. Previous to reaching camp I rode along the base of a small mountain, some distance to the right of the main party, in quest of game ; there I caught glimpse of the first panther I had yet met with. Jumping from my horse, I thought to give him a passing shot, — but he, neither liking my looks nor the smell of gunpowder, made hasty retreat to his mountain home. Passing leisurely on, my course led through a large village of prairie- dogs, which reminds me of having heretofore neglected a description of these singular animals. I am at a loss to imagine what it is in the habits or looks of the prairie- dog that entitles him to that appellation. In appearance and size he more approximates a large species of the sciurus family, commonly called the fox-squirrel, than anything I can name. His tail, however, is but an inch and a half long, while his ears and legs are also short ; — as a whole, perhaps, he is a trifle larger and more corpu- lent than the fox-squirrel. His " bark " is precisely like the occasional chatterings of that animal, and his color is of a brownish red. His habits are quite inofTensive and lead him to procure his food from roots and grass. Clumsy in his motions, he seldom ventures far from home — fearful of the numerous enemies that beset him on all sides, both from birds and beasts of prey. These animals congregate together in large villages, and dig their bur- rows adjoining each other ; — the dirt thrown from them often forming cone- like elevations three or four feet high, in whose tops are the entrances. The latter are nearly of a perpendicular descent for two feet, and then slope away to a great distance under ground. These villagers locate without regard to the vicinity of water, and it is gravely doubted, by many persons, whether they make the same use of that fluid as other animals ; — I have seen large settlements of them in high arid prairies, at a distance of fifteen or twenty miles from either stream or pool of water, and in regions subject to neither rain nor dews. They are keen of sight and scent, and seemed governed by some code of federative regulations for mutual safety. Their guards are regularly posted at the suburbs of every village, whose duty it is to be continually on the alert and give timely warning of the approach of danger. This the cautious sentinels discharge by standing erect at the slightest tainture of the air, or startling noise, or strange appearance ; and, having ascertained by careful observations its nature and cause, they sound the sharp yelp and chatter of alarm, in a hurried manner, — then, betaking themselves to the watch-towers that protect the entrances to their burrows, from the verge of the steep parapets they again renew their warning notes, when the whilom busy populace, bcscattered at brief distances for amuse- ment or food, return witii all possible despatch to their ready holes and dis- appear from view. The faithful sentinels are last to retreat from their posts, and not unfre" quently maintain their ground at the hazard of individual safety. 110 WILD SCENES. On the disappearance of the cause of alarm, they are the first to com- municate the pleasing intelUgence, and soon the reassured community again betake themselves to their business and sports. The prairie-owl and rattlesnake maintain friendly relations with these inoffensive villagers, and not unfrequently the three heterogeneous associates occupy the same subterranean appartments ; — a strange companionship of birds, beasts, and reptiles ! The prairie dog is extremely tenacious of life, and can seldom be killed with a rifle, unless by a brain-shot ; and then, even, it is difficult to secure him, as his companions will immediately convey the carcase into their holes beyond reach. The flesh of these animals is tender and quite palatable, and their oil superior in fineness, and absence from all grosser ingredients, to that of any other known animals ; it is highly valued as a medicine in certain cases. CHAPTER XIII. The Creek valley. — Tlie Platte as a mountain stream. — Canon. — Romantic prospect. — Comical bear story. — Perilous encounter with a wounded bull. — Geological re- marlis. — Division of party. — Safety of spring travel. — La Bonte's creek.— Remarks by tlie way.— Service-berry. — Deer Creek. — General observations.— Moccasin mak- ing.—Box-elder.— Bear killed.— Excellence of its flesh.— Different kmds of bears in Oregon and the mountains. — The grizzly bear, his nature and habits. Horse -SHOE creek is a stream of considerable size, that traces its way through a broad valley of rich alluvion, well timbered with cottonwood and box-elder, and aflxjrding all the usual varieties of mountain fruit. The grass of the preceding year's growth was quite rank and stout, giving evidence of a fertile soil. Resuming our course, we again bore towards the river with the design of crossing, and, after a few hours' ride came to its banks, through a broad opening between two ridges of hills that communicated with it from the high prairies and table lands upon the left. Here, however, fording was impracticable, the stream being too hio-h and the current swift. '^ The Platte of the mountains retains scarcely one characteristic of the river with which the- reader has hitherto become so familiarized. It is now confined to a bed of rock and gravel, not exceeding two hundred yards in width, and is of unwonted clearness and transparency. Its banks are Bteep, and the attrition of high waters discloses a deep vegetable mould in their vicinity, favorable to the growth of grain or other produce. A small bottom of rich sandy loam upon the opposite side lay at the base of a high ridge of table lands, which presented its rugged sides of red- INTERESTING VIEW. 1 1 1 sandstone, almost vertical in their position, and ornamented with an occa- sional stunted pine, or cedar, or shrub of the buffalo-berry, (shepherdia ar- gentea,) while at their base reposed, in huge masses, a profuse medley of fallen fragments, strown around in all the wild confusion of savage scenery. A few hundred yards to the left, the Platte forces its way through a barrier of table lands, forming one of those striking peculiarities incident to mountain streams, called a " canon."* Improving the opportunity afforded by a short stay, I ascended an emi- nence to enjoy a full vew of the grand spectacle. The mountain through which the river finds passage, at this place, is from five to eight hundred feet high, opposing perpendicular walls upon each side, that at many points overhang the narrow stream which sweeps with its foaming waters among the rocks below. This canon is nearly two miles in length. About midway of the dis- tance the whole stream is precipitated in an unbroken volume from a ledge of rocks, causing a cataract of some twenty or twenty-five feet descent. Standing upon the dizzy verge of this frightful chasm, and gazing adown its dark abyss, the aspect is one of terrific sublimity, and such an one as will cause the beholder to shrink back with instinctive dread ! These walls are principally of red-sandstone, and ferruginous rock, the precise character of which I was unable to determine. Upon the summit I noticed an abundance of silex, with some elegant specimens of crystal- line quartz, that, reflecting the sun's rays, shone like gems in the crown of a mountain-god ; a number of singular ligneous petrifactions also met my observation, principally consisting of pine and cedar. The surrounding country brought within the scope of vision an interest- ing and romantic scene. The lofty "table land in front (with diversified surfaces of granitic rock and vegetable earth, affording a scanty nourish- ment for herbage and foothold for dwarfish cedars and pines) spread far away to the snow-clad mountains of the north, — while rearward at its base lay the broad valley through which passes the Oregon trail, shut in upon two sides by rugged hills ; and farther on arise the snowy sides of the Lara- mie chain, with their cloud-capped summits. To the left, peak towering above peak, in gradual succession, point to the ridge dividing the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific; and, to the right, the lessening eminences, yallons, and plateaux, guide the eye to where the boundless prairie revels in wild beauty and owns itself the realm of eternal Solitude ! How magnificent must be the scene when spring arrays the surrounding landscape in her own loveliness, and bedecks the wilderness with gaudy verdure ! Bearing again to tlie left, we continued our course by a winding buftalo-path which soon brought us4o a broad valley bordering upon the Platte. *Tlie Spanish word " canon" implies a narrow, tunnel-like passage between high and precipitous banks, formed by mountains or table lands. It is pronounced kanyon, and is a familiar term in the vocabulary of a mountaineer. 10* 112 OBSERVATIONS. Riding on, we soon came to a large sand creek ; and, observing several bulls in the vicinity, we accepted the advantage offered by a small grove of cottonwoods and willows, with a clear spring, and struck camp. During the day, the oddity of an old Franco-Canadian, who accompa- nied us, afforded me considerable amusement. Observing that he had car- ried his gun uncharged for several days past, a circumstance so singular in this country led me to enquire the cause. The old fellow, with the most laughable sangfroid, answered as follows : " Me carry fusee load ? No, no ! monsieur. No good, carry fusee load sur le printems. Certes, much bear come out — him dangereux. Me live long en le montagnes ; oui, no remarque — duo, tree, great many year ! Sacre dem bear, — vat you call him en la American ?" " Grizzly bear, I suppose you mean," said I. " Oui, oui, monsieur ; much graces, monsieur ! Oui, gizzle bear ; me parler bon American, que no remarque gizzle bear ! entonner ! Sacre dem gizzle bear, him come out une day, kill me de pres." " Well." continued I; "what has that to do with carrying your gun un- loaded?"' " Oui, oui ; pardonner, monsieur. Me parler tel une bon America.n ! Me reciter, sacre dem bear, — vat you call him, monsieur ? Oh, gizzle bear ! Sacre dem gizzle bear, me see him une day, en le printems ; big, grand felleu. Shoot him fusee; make him much blood; no kill him. Sacre dem bear, gizzle bear, him jump for me. ' Wa-r-r-h !' he say, (im- itating the bear.) Bon Dieu ! me no stay dare ; me bein fast run ; me abandonner la fusee ; me climb une leetil pine. Sacre dem bear — vat you call him ? Ah, oui, gizzle bear. Certes, monsieur, me parler bon Amer- ican, tel une naturel ! Sacre dem bear, him come to tree ; no climb him, —he too leetil. Look him all round, den ; sacre dem bear, gizzle bear did. See fusee lie ; pick him up; cock him fusee, sacre dem bear, gizzle bear did. Take him aim at me ; snap him fusee tree time. Oh, monDieu! mon Dieu ! Suppose him fusee been load ! Tonnerre de bateme ! Him shoot me ; him kill me dead ! sacre dem bear, dem gizzle bear vould ! Certes, monsieur ; por le assure, sacre dem gizzle bear, him kill me ! en le vcrite, monsieur, him kill me dead !" " So," resumed I, " your reason for not carrying your gun loaded is, you are fearful that a bear might chance to get hold of it and shoot you !" " Certes, monsieur ; en le verite ! No carry gun load, sur le printems. Sacre dem bear get 'old of him, he shoot !" Towards night, two of our party, who had gone in pursuit of buffalo, returned laden with meat, which, though poor, was far preferable to the lean venison we had fed upon for the last twenty-four hours. The male buffalo, at this season of the year, is generally fatter than the female, unless it be one of the few barren cows that sometimes are found in large bands; but, neither is worth boasting of. After our long fasting and indifferent fare for six entire days, it is not marvellous that we improved, with quickened zest, the present op- portunity of feasting. DIVISION OF PARTY. 113 The day following, two parties started in quest of game, — one of which killed three bulls, at as many shots, within half an hour alter leaving camp. The other party also killed two, but, in securing one of them, they met with an exciting adventure. Both animals were extended upon the ground, one entirely and the other apparently dead — the hunters, having butchered one of them, proceeded to tlie other, and were in the act of raising him to the right position for the commencement of operation. The old fellow, not relishing the like famil- iarity from new acquaintances, sprang to his feet, and made a plunge at the affrighted hunters, who only escaped the fatal charge by one of those admirable feats of quick dodging so often in requisition among moun- taineers. The bull, passing between them, fell head foremost against the ground, two or three feet beyond tlie spot they had occupied scarcely a second previous ; — then rising, with glaring eyes and distended nostrils, and mouth foaming with biood and rage, he pursued one of them in hot chase, for a distance of several hundred yards. So close was the bull in a few leaps, that with a sweep of his horns he gored the hunter's back, tearing away his pantaloons and coat, and prostrating him upon all-fours at the edge of a deep ravine, down which he tumbled ; — the enraged beast fol- lowed, but the force of an unbroken headway landed him, with a tremen- dous shock, against the opposite bank, far beyond the hunter. Improve- ing the advantage thus gained, the latter escaped through the windings of the ravine, and ascended the bank, without the reach of his pursuer. Having procured his ritle, after nine more shots had riddled the lights of the bull's carcase, the business of butchering was again commenced and terminated without further mishap. Our stay at this camp was prolonged for three or four days. The geological character of the vicinity corresponds very much with that previously remarked, and to describe it in full would seem too much like a repetition. I have, perhaps, said sufficient to give the reader a cor- rect idea of the prominent characteristics of these parts, and. hence, for the sake of brevity, shall hereafter forbear further notes upon this subject, unless some uniform change or striking peculiarity should call for a passing observation. Prior to resuming our journey, a disagreement occurred between us rel- ative to the proposed route. Some were desirous of proceeding southward into the Plains of Lara- mie ; thence, bearing eastward to Laramie river, following its valley to Fort Platte ; — others were anxious to continue up the Platte to Sweet Water, or further, and from thence proceed as circumstances or inclination might suggest. This difference finally resulted in a division of the party. — four in favor of the western, and three of the southern route, — myself being in- cluded with the former. Selecting two pack-mules for the conveyance of provisions and camp- 114 MOCCASIN MAKING. equipage, the day following we mounted our horses and were under way. With the exception of myself, the present party consisted of old and ex- perienced mountaineers, well acquainted with the country and the nature of Indians. Though, in regard to the latter, little danger was apprehen- ded at this season of the year, as the Sioux had not yet left their winter quarters, and they rarely traverse the vicinity of Sweet Water before the middle of May. Other tribes we might look upon as friendly. We, therefore, anticipated a safe and pleasant excursion. During the day our course led over a rough undulating prairie, bounded on the right mostly by the river, and on the left by the mountains. In the heads of valleys and ravines I noticed numerous withered stalks of the bread-root, (psoralea esculenia,) indicating its great abundance, and also an increased quantity of absinthe. At night we encamped at the forks of a small stream called La Bonte's creek. Near the confluence of its waters with the Platte are the remains of a log cabin, occcupied by a trading party several years since. The creek is tolerably well timbered, and the valley, through which it winds its way, aflLrds many beautiful bottoms of rich soil. The rock in the vicinity disclosed a furruginous character, especially the sandstone. Among the usual fruit-bearing shrubs and bushes, I here noticed the " service berry." This kind of fruit is very abundant in the mountainous parts of Oregon, where it attains a size but little inferior to the common plum, and is highly esteemed for its superior flavor. Leaving La Bonte's creek, we travelled by easy stages, for three suc- cessive days, and struck camp at the mouth of Deer creek. Our course led over several beautiful streams, most of them well tim- bered with Cottonwood and box-elder, and occasionally skirted by rich bot- toms. Previous to reaching this point we followed along the Platte valley, for a distance of some twenty or thirty miles, which presented several fine bottoms of rich sandy soil upon either bank, together with numerous groves of cottonwood. The face of the country is generally a succession of ridges and hol- lows, intersected by ravines and small streams of water. At Deer creek, and for some distance before reaching it, the mountain chain to our left approaches within four or five miles of the river, rising abruptly to a height of from eight to fifteen hundred feet, with frowning brows and pine-clad summits. Deer creek is one of the largest affluents of the Platte, from the south, between Sweet Water and Laramie. At this place it is about eight yards broad, with a smooth and transparent current that sweeps over a bed of rock and gravel. Its banks are well timbered v/ith large cotton woods, and present rich bottoms of alluvial soil, very luxuriant in grass. Even this early in the season, the fresh grass of the vicinity aflLrds tempt- ing nourishment for our animals, and wishing to favor them as much as possible, we have concluded to remain a short time. During the succeeding interval we were variously occupied in hunting, root-digging, and moccasin-making. The latter is a business in which A FEAST OF BEAR MEAT. 116 every mountaineer is necessarily a proficient, and rarely will he venture upon a long- journey without the appurtenances of his profession. The process of shoe-making with him is reduced to its most simple form. He merely takes two pieces of bufTalo (or any other suitable) skin, each being a little longer and wider than his foot, particularly towards the heel ; these he folds separately, and lays them together parallel with the turned edges ; then, rounding and trimming the sides, to render them foot- shaped, with an awl and the sinew of bufialo or other animal, or small strips of thin deer-skin, (" whang,'''') he sews the vamps from end to end, — then after cutting a tongue-like appendage in the upper side, midway from heel to toe, and stitching together the posterior parts, his task is done. Having obtained a quantity of sap from a grove of box-elders near camp, we found it a sweet and pleasant liquid, and not inferior to that of maple. Sugar might be manufactured from it, with little trouble. The leaves of this tree, as well as the general appearance of its wood, greatly assimilate those of maple, and, independent of its bushy tops and stunted, winding growth, it would be hard to tell the difference at a first glance. Game was plenty on every side, both buffalo, deer, and elk, with some few bear. The second day after our arrival, one of the latter, attracted by the scent of fresh buffalo meat, ventured within gun-shot of camp. Instantly the balls of four rifles were buried in his carcase. Aroused by i\\\B feeling salute, he rushed towards us at the top of his speed, when our horses, affrighted at the strange appearance, broke snorting away over the neigh- boring hills, and we ourselves took to trees as fast as possible. In the midst of this general consternation a pistol ball, fired by one of the party, buried itself in the brains of our troublesome visitor and laid him prostrate. He was one of a species common to the mountains, called the red bear, and must have weighed four or five hundred pounds. The fat upon his back was full three inches thick His skin when stretched would have compared in size to that of a buffalo, and the claws of his feet were full three inches long. At this season of the year, when these animals first leave their dens, tney are much the fattest, — a singular circumstance, if we remember the fact of their remaining holed up for the entire winter, without eating ! After butchering the greasy victim, and bringing our erratic horses back 10 camp, we regaled ourselves with an ample least of bear's liver, heart, and kidneys, basted with fat, — a dish that epicures might well covet. Then, filling a large camp-kettle with portions of the " fleece " and ribs, we allowed it to boil till the next morning, and thus prepared another deli- cious entertainment, such as is rarely met with in any country other than this. Bear meat, to be tender and good, should be boiled at least ten hours. This is probably the most preferable mode of cooking it, though a roast of the article is far from bad. There are four several varieties of bear found in the Rocky Mountains 116 NATURE AND HABITS OF THE GRIZZLY BEAR. and countries adjacent, viz. : The grizzly bear, the black, the red, and the white. Of these, the grizzly bear stands pre-eminent in ferocity and strength. He will almost invariably flee at the sight or scent of a man, and seldom attacks any one unless wounded. When shot, he generally runs at full speed towards the sound, and woe to the unfortunate hunter who then comes in his way, unless fully prepared for a deadly encounter ! This animal reigns prince of the mountains, and every other beast within his wide realm acknowledges his supremacy. Wolves and panthers dare not approach him, or disturb aught savoring of his ownership. Even the carcase of his prey, covered with the earth and rock his cautious instinct teaches him to heap upon it for preservation, is unmolested, though hundreds of wolves and panthers might be starving around. Buffalo dread his presence far more than the dangerous approach of the hunter, and will sooner bring into requisition their swiftest powers of flight on such occasions. With great difficulty a horse can can be per- suaded to go within any near distance of one of them, even when led, and then he will quail and tremble in every joint, from extreme terror. In short, the grizzly bear stalks forth at pleasure, in his majesty and strength, lord of the wild solitudes in which he dwells, and none dares op- pose him. Some writers assert that bears will not prey upon dead carcases, — this is contrary to fact. I have often known them take possession of the carcases of animals, even when nearly putrid, and remain until they were devoured. They frequently kill buffalo, horses, and cattle to gratify tlieir taste for animal food, and, in such cases, always drag their prey to some convenient spot, and perform the task of burial by heaping upon it piles of rock or earth, to a depth of several feet, for protection against the voracity of other beasts of prey. It is not uncommon, even, that they drag the entire carcase of a full-grown bull a distance of several hundred yards, by the horns, for this purpose, — -so great is their strength and so accute their sagacity. O I— I N N > pi do o THE HEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRXKY A8T0R, UENOJC ^H» 117 CHAPTER XIV. Desperate encounter with a grizzly bear, and extraordinary instance of suffering. — Close contest. — A comical incident.— Cross Platte.— Canon camp.— Sage trees.— Mountain sheep, and all about them.— Independence Rock; why so called, and description of it.— Devil's Gate.— Landscape scenery. The adventure recorded in the preceding chapter called forth the re- hearsal of many thrilling stories of frightful encounter with that proud monarch of the mountains, the grizzly bear. Two or three of these it may not be uninteresting to transcribe. Several years since, an old trapper by the name of Glass, with his com- panion, while on an excursion, came upon a large grizzly bear. Bruin, having received the salute of two rifles, as usual, rushed towards his uncivil assailants, who broke from him with all possible despatch. But Glass, stumbling, fell prostrate in his flight, and before he could recover his feet the infuriated beast was upon him. Now commenced a death-struggle. The pistols of the hunter were both discharged in quick succession, — the ball of one entering the breast of his antagonist, and that of the other grazing his back. Smarting and maddened by the pain of additional wounds, the bleeding monster continued the conflict with the fury of desperation, — tearing from the limbs and body of the unfortunate man large pieces of trembling flesh, and lacerating him with the deep thrusts of his teeth and claws. Meanwhile the sufferer maintained, with his butcher-knife, an obstinate defence, though with fast waning effort and strength. Finally, enfeebled by the loss of blood, and exhausted from the extraordinary exertions of a desperate and unequal contest, he was unable to oppose further resis- tance, and quietly resigned himself to his fate. The bear, too, with the thick blood oozing from his numerous wounds, and faint from the many stabs among his veins and sinews, seemed equally in favor of a suspension of hostilities ; and, extending himself across the hunter's back, he remained motionless for two hours or more. But now another enemy commences an assault upon his vitals — that enemy is death. In vain is defensive efl^ort. In vain are all his struggles. He falls by the hunter's side a lifeless corse. The setting sun had cast his lurid glare upon the ensanguined spot, as the comrade of the miserable Glass ventured near to ascertain the result of the fierce encounter. There lay the body of his deserted friend, stretched out, apparently life- less and half-torn to pieces ; and, by its side, lay the carcase of that ene- my, which had waged with it such murderous war, cold and stiffened in deatli ! Now, doubly terrified at his loneliness, but still governed by sordid mo- 118 A CLOSE CONTEST. % tives, he stripped the former of his arms and every other valuable, then no longer needed (as he supposed) by their owner, and, mounting his horse, started immediately for the nearest trading poet. On his arrival he recounted the particulars of the fatal occurrence, — carefully concealing, however, his own criminal conduct. The story was accredited, and the name of Glass found place upon the long catalogue of those who had fallen a prey to wild beasts and savage men. Six weeks elapsed and no one thought of the subject of our sketch as among the living. The general surprise, therefore, may be readily imag- ined, on opening the fort-gates one morning, at finding before them the poor, emaciated form of a man, half-naked, and covered with wounds and running sores, and so torn the fleshless bones of his legs and thighs were exposed to view in places ! and how this astonishment was heighten- ed on recognizing the person of Glass in the illy defined lineaments of his countenance — the very man so long regarded as the inhabitant of another world ! A veritable ghost suddenly appearing upon the spot could not have occasioned greater wonder ! But, sensations of pity and commiseration quickly succeeded those of surprise, and the unhappy sufferer was conveyed within doors and received from the hands of friends that careful attention his situation so much re- quired. The story of his misfortunes was thrillingly interesting. When left by his companion for dead, he was in a state of unconsciousness, with scarce- ly the breath of life retained in his mangled body. But, the soft night- wind stanched his wounds, and a slight sleep pariially revived him from his death-like stupor. With the morning, the slight sensations of hunger he began to ex- perience were appeased from the raw flesh of the carcase at his side; and, thus strengthened, by a slow and tedious efTort he was enabled to reach a near stream and quench his thirst. Still further revived, he again crawled to the carcase at the demands of appetite. In this manner he continued for three days, when the putrescent corse compelled him to abandon it. Then it was he commenced his tedious return to the fort, (some seventy miles distant,) which he performed during an interval of forty successive days ! The whole of this long stretch he crawled upon his hands and knees, — subsisting, for the meanwhile, only upon insects, such as chance threw in his way, but passing most of the time without one morsel with which to appease the gnawings of hunger or renew his wasted strength. Yet, great as were his sufferings and intolerable as they may seem, he survived them all, and, by the kind attention of friends, soon recov- ered. He still lives in the town of Taos, New Mexico, and frequently re- peats to wondering listeners the particulars of this terrific and painful adventure. One of our party, whose right hand was much disabled from the effects of a wound, now told his story. For several years succeeding his first arrival in the Rocky Mountains, A COMICAL INCIDENT. 119 he had permitted no opportunity of killing any one of the various species of bear, common to these regions, to pass unimproved. Never did he think of fearing them, and was always the last to retreat in case of a charge. When a bear appeared within any reasonable shooting distance of our hunter, it almost invariably fell a victim to his unerring aim. But, e'-e- long, this spirit of bold-daring proved the source of lasting regret to its possessor. On the occasion alluded to, having shot at one of these animals, contra- ry to his usual good luck, he only wounded it. The bear in turn now became the assailant, but received the contents of two pistols before it had time to advance far. Our hunter at this crisis sprang to a neighboring pine, which he commenced climbing. His pursu- er, gaining the tree almost as soon, likewise began its ascent. Here occurred a struggle between them — the man to force his way up- wards, and the bear to prevent him. The former, drawing his butcher- knife, thrust it at the eyes and nose of his antagonist. Not fancying huch 'pointed hints upon a delicate subject, Mr. Bruin caught hold of the hunter's hand, and, as an earnest of deep sensitiveness, crushed it between his teeth, — nor even then relinquished the gripe. Transferred to the left hand, the knife continued its work, till the sickening beast commenced sliding down- ward— dragging the poor hunter also to the ground. Both struck at the same time ; but, at that instant, the knife of the latter pierced the heart of* his antagonist, and laid him dead at his feet. The unfortunate man, however, lost two of his fingers in the affray, and his hand was otherwise so much injured he has never since recovered its use. Another story related at the same time, though not possessing the deep and thrilling interest of the preceding ones, partakes a little of the ludircous, and w^ill doubtless amuse the reader. The narrator a while since formed one of a trapping party, with which he proceeded to the Utah country. While there, on a certain occasion, having set his traps over night, he returned to examine them the next morning, in quest of beaver, and, to his surprise, one of them was missing. After cautiously examining the premises, under the impression that some lurking Indians had stolen his trap with its contents, he noticed the tracks of bears, near by, which served at once to unravel the whilom mystery of its disappearance. He now began to muse upon his loss, as, without the missing trap, his set would be rendered incomplete, and, under present circumstances, the want of the thing was more than the worth of it. While thus ruminating, a slight noise, among neighboring cherry-bushes and cottonwood, caught his ear, which sounded like some one beating with two sticks. This induced him to approach for the purpose of ascertaining the cause, when an opening revealed to view Mr. Bruin seated upon a log and hold- ing to his lace the missing trap, tightly clasped to his fore-paw. The bear appeared to be regarding the strange instrument with close attention, as if to study into the principles of its construction ; — now gazing at it endwise, then bringing its side in close proximity to his eyes ; then turning it over to examine the opposite one ; — now, he would essay its 11 123 HUNTING CAMP. strength, and lightly taps it upon the log. But this is a painful operation,— lie relinquishes it, and resumes his former grotesque movements. Watching this curious performance, the trapper could scarcely retain his gravity, or master his fondness for the ludicrous sufficiently for the in- tended shot. He did, however, and the comedy was suddenly transformed to a tragedy, by leaving its actor struggling in death. A light fall of snow during the last of our stay at Deer creek, rendered the ground quite muddy and soft ; notwithstanding which we resumed our course early in the morning of the fourth day. Continuing on, a ride of thirty miles brought us to the place where the Oregon trail crosses the Platte ; and, after fording the river, we encamped upon the opposite side. The stream, at this point, is about three hundred yards from bank to bank, and, at the time of our crossing it, swimming deep for a small por- tion of the way. In ordinary stages, the water is but little over three feet deep, and the ford perfectly safe and practicable. The partial melting of the mountain snows had increased the size and velocity of its current, and rendered our passage slightly dangerous and difficult. The bed appeared to be rocky, and in some places rough, — requiring much caution in crossing waggons, to prevent them from overturning. On the third day following, we arrived at another remarkable canon, after travelling a distance of thirty-tive or forty miles. Here, finding large numbers of mountain sheep, we were induced to remain a short time. Our course for most of this distance was confined to the valley of the Platte, on account of the greater supply of wood found upon its banks. Towards noon of the hrst day, we passed a point, called the " Red Buttes," at which the river cuts its way through a lofty ridge of hills. This passage left a considerable bank upon both sides, shut in by abrupt walls of red argillaceous sandstone, towering to the height of several hundred feet. The soil was generally a mixture of clay and sand, and, in some places, afforded a reddish loam which appeared to be very rich. A short ride from the " Red Buttes " took us across a beautiful stream, with a broad bottom, well timbered with cottonvvood. Large herds of buffalo were continually in sight upon the whole route. Several miles previous to reaching the canon, my notice was first attracted to the extraordinary size attained by the wild sage ; it having merged its shrub- like appearance into that of trees varying from five to ten feet in height and from twenty to twenty-five inches in circumference at the root. 'J^'iie magnificent dimensions of this herb are retained for a large extent of territory to the south and west of this vicinity. It is frequently made use of for fire-wood, and the prairies, in many places, are covered with beautiful groves of it, — perfuming the atmosphere and revelling in peren- nial verdure. The canon before referred to, is caused by the river passing through a chain of hills, for a reach of nearly half a mile. MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 121 The current is here shut in by banks of perpendicular rock, four or five hundred feet high, which sometimes overhangs it, and leave a narrov^ space of scarcely two hundred feet for its bed. These consist principally of white cretaceous sandstone, soft and friable, and frequently present to view the appearance of regular mason-work. During our stay we succeeded in killing five mountain sheep. Some of these were very large and quite fat. The flesh of this animal is equal in flavor to that of buflalo. It is gener- ally in good order, tender and sweet, and slightly assimilates our common mutton in taste. The habits and appearance of mountain sheep resemble those of no other animal. They select for their favorite habitation the rugged fastnesses of wild and inaccessible mountains. In the cold of winter, they descend to some of the numerous valleys that so beautifully diversify the scenery of these re- gions, where the verdure of spring so rarely fades ; and, as the warm sea- son advances, they commence their return towards the lofty snow- peaks, keeping even progress v/ith spring and fresh flowers along the mountain-sides. Theirs is a life of unbroken spring — beauty and grandeur are their dwelling place, — and, 'mid the awe-inspiring sublimity of nature's works, is their home. They gambol upon the fearful verge of the steep clifl", or climb its perpendicular sides, bidding defiance to all pursuerg. There, secure from enemies, they rear their young, and teach them to leap from crag to crag in mirthful gaiety, or traverse the dizzy heights in quest of the varied sweets of changeful spring. These animals are remarkably acute of sight, and quick of socnt and hearing. The least noise or tainture of the air excites their attention and places them instantly upon the alert. Mounting upon some high rock, they will stand for hours in the same posture, gazing in the direction of the fancied danger. If fully satisfied of its reality, they abandon their position for another and a safer one, high among more rugged peaks, and often beyond the possibility of offensive approach. Their hue is so akin to that of the rocks which grace their range, they are with difficulty identified when standing motionless, and the hunter is constantly liable to mistake the one for the other. In size the mountain sheep is larger than the domestic animal of that name, and its general appearance is in every respect dissimilar — excepting the head and horns. The latter appendage, however, alike belongs to the male and female. The horns of the female are about six inches long, email, pointed, and somewhat flat, — but those of the male grow to an enor- mous size. 1 have frequently killed them having horns that measured two feet and a half or three feet in length, and from eighteen to nineteen inches in circumference at the base. These ponderous members are of great service to their owner in descend- ing the abrupt precipices, which his habits so often render necessary. In leaping from an elevation he uniformly strikes upon the curve of his horns, and thus saves himself from the shock of a sudden and violent contussion. The color of tiiese animals varies from a yellowish white, to a dark 122 DEVIL'S GATE. brown, or even black. A strip of snowy whiteness extends from ham to ham, including the tail, w^hich is short and tipped with black. Instead of wool, they are covered with hair, which is shed annually. Their cry is much like that of domestic sheep, and the same natural odor is common to both. It is extremely difficult to capture any of them alive, even while young, — and it is next to impossible to make them live and thrive in any other climate than their own. Hence, the mountain sheep has never yet found a place in our most extensive zoological collections. Remaining three days at this place, we were again en route, and, bear- ing to the right, passed over a ridge of rough, rocky summits, and struck the valley of the Sweet Water. Continuing up the latter, a short ride brought us to the vicinity of a noted landmark of the country, known as Independence Rock, where we encamped. The soil of the river bottoms is good, but the adjoining prairies are gandy and somewhat sterile. The distance from this to the canon is not far from twenty-three miles. Independence Rock is a solid and isolated mass of naked granite, situated about three hundred yards from the right bank of the Sweet Water. It covers an area of four or five acres, and rises to a height of nearly three hun- dred feet. The general shape is oval, with the exception of a slight depres- sion in its summit where a scanty soil supports a few shrubs and a solitary dwarf-pine. It derives its name from a party of Americans on their way to Oregon, under the lead of one Tharp, who celebrated the fourth of July at this place, — they being the first company of whites that ever made the jour- ney from the States, via South Pass. The surface is covered with the names of travellers, traders, trap- pers, and emigrants, engraven upon it in almost every practicable part, for the distance of many feet above its base, — but most prominent among them all is the word " Independence," inscribed by the patriotic band who first christened this lonely monument of nature in honor of Liberty's birthday. I went to the rock for the purpose of recording my name with the swollen catalogue of others traced upon its sides ; but, having glanced over the strange medley, I became disgusted, and, turning away, resolved, " If there remains no other mode of immortalizing myself I will be content to descend to the grave ' unhonored and unsung.^ " The day following, a heavy fall of snow and sleet forced us to remain in camp, and the consequent muddiness of the route prolonged our stay still further. The vicinity afforded an abundance of game and a sufficiency of dry fuel ; it would, therefore, have been folly in us to care for wind or weather, detracting as did either so little from our comfort. During this interval I rode into the prairie a short distance, in quest of game, and struck the river a few miles above camp, at a place where the stream cuts its way through a high ridge of hills, forming another canon RETURN ROUTE. 123 of three or four hundred yards in lengtli and about forty broad, called the Devil's Gate, as I afterwards ascertained. Its walls arose perpendicularly to a height of between four and five hun- dred feet, and consisted of trap rock, sandstone, and granite. Dismounting, I ascended to the summit, where a grand and picturesque scenery burst upon the view. Above, the broad valley of the Sweet Water stretched far away to the westward, bounded on either side by frowning mountains, that, towering to the height of fifteen hundred or two thousand feet, present their snowy summits in proud defiance of wind or storm, and laugh at the impotency of a summer's sun ; — on the south, shaking their piny tops in scornful derision ; and, on the north, with denuded crests of broken granite, chal- lenging the lightnings of heaven and wooing its loudest thunders ; — while further along, the clouds played in humble sportiveness around the base of the great chain dividing the waters of two oceans, nor dared ascend its dizzy heights to range amid eternal snow. Below, in silent grandeur, arose to view the grantic mass that responds to the day-dawn of a nation's existence, surmounted by its lone pine, and bearing upon its broad register the sculptured names of the audacious disturbers of its solitude ; and further yet, the parti-colored peaks of the Black Hills, now white with fresh-fallen snow, now darkened with clus- tering pines, seemed musing in modest retirement ; while far around, in every spot accessible to discriminating vision, dense herds of grazing buf- falo covered the prairie with their pall-like mantle of countless numbers. It was indeed a magnificent prospect, and needed only the garnishing hand of spring to render it at as enchanting in loveliness as it was impres- sive in wild sublimity. CHAPTER XV. Return route.— Oregon trail from Independence Rock through the South Pass.— Cross the Sweet Water and Platte.— Mountain Fowl.— Journey up Medicine Bow.— Dangerous country. — A fight with the Sioux.— The " Carcague." — A. sur- prise. Visit to the Crow village. — Number and character of the Crow nation — SelUng a prisoner for tobacco.— Description of Laramie Plains. Previously to leaving this place, considerable discussion arose relative to our future course. The proposition was to continue up the Sweet Water valley to the dividing ridge at the head of Green river, and return by the same route ;— versus the suggestion to cross the Sweet Water and proceed up the Platte to the confluence of a large tributary from the south ; thence, keeping by the valley of the latter stream as far as the Medicine Bow Mountains, re turn to tlie Fort by the way of Laramie river. 11* 124 VICINITY OF THE MEDICINE BOW. The fast melting of the snow, and anticipated difficulties, not to say- dangers, consequent upon high water in the passage of creeks and rivers, influenced us to adopt the latter as the most advisable course. Such was the final decision, and, the men with me being familiarly acquainted wi'th every nook and corner of the adjacent country, I improved the opportunity to elicit from them all possible information relative to the Oregon route from this onward ; and, never having personally travelled from Independence Rock to the head of Green river, it may not be out of place to lay before the reader a succinct statement of some of the items thus gleaned. The distance from this point to the famous South Pass is but little over one hundred miles. The trail follows the Sweet Water to its source, keeping the river valley for most of the distance. This valley consists of an undulating prairie, (at intervals rough,) varying in width from the narrow limits of a few yards to the more ample dimensions of four or five miles. Sometimes, the adjoining hills close in upon the river banks and force the trail among their rugged windings. In one place the road leads over £i high stretch of table land for nearly a day's travel, when it again descends to the valley. The stream, in places, is tolerably well timbered with cottonwood, oak, and aspen, and rolls over a rocky bed, with a clear and swift current. The distance through the pass is about fifteen miles, and the ascent and descent are so gradual the traveller would scarcely notice the transi- tion from the head of the Sweet Water to that of the Colorado. The hilla at this point are low, and the face of the country rolling — but not rough, affording at all times a most excellent waggon road. On the morning of the fourth day, we accordingly retraced our course, and, having traversed a rugged and hilly country for some ten or twelve miles, we camped in a small open prairie at the mouth of the Sweet Wat r. During our ride we noticed several large bands of wild sheep, at inter- vals, gazing upon us from huge masses of granite that towered with isolated summits to a frequent altitude of sixty or one hundred feet. The next morning, we crossed the Sweet Water a little above its mouth. The ford was quite feasible, the stream being some ten yards wide and three or four feet deep, with a bed of sand and pebbles. From this point, travelhng up the Platte for about ten miles or more, we arrived opposite the creek previously alluded to, and, crossing at a shoal place a short distance above, camped in a grove of cottonwood and willows, at the delta formed by the confluence of the two streams. There are several bottoms of very rich soil in this vicinity ; but back from the river the country is rough and hilly. Westward the Sweet Water mountains, distant some ten miles, showed their craggy peaks, and to the north and east the piny crests of the Black Hills burst upon the sight ; while southward, a succession of high, rolling prairies opened to view a variety of romantic and beautiful scenery. ¥ A CROW WARKIOU— Pr/^e 125. A FIGHT WITH THE SIOUX. 125 We remained at tliis place the two following days, for the purpose of hunting. Game of all kinds appeared in great abundance, particularly elk. At several points among the willows near the river were noticed fresh signs of beaver, and among the hills the recent marks of bear in digging for roots. ^A large bird called the mountain fowl, quite common to these parts, was the occasion of some little curiosity, being the first of its species I ever saw. This bird is rather larger than our domestic hen, and of a grayish l)rown color. Little accustomed to the presence of man, it easily falls a prey to the hunter. Its flesh is tender and most excellent in flavor. Having obtained a fresh supply of meat, we resumed our course. Continuing up the right bank of the creek (which I have named ]\Iedi- cine Bow, for lack of a better term) and travelling by easy stages four successive days, we arrived at its head, — a distance of more than fitty miles above its junction with the Platte. Many beautiful bottoms skirted the banks of tliis stream, which were well timbered with cottonwood, aspen, birch, willow, box-el4er, and some few pines. The soil is generally of a reddish loam, and the luxuriant size of the dead grass, together with the rank verdure of the present season, gave evidence of its richness and fecundity. I was pleased to observe not a few wild flowers, of rare beauty, in full bloom, lending their fragrance to the breath of spring, and blushing at the admiration challenged by their loveliness. On the right lay a broad expanse of undulating prairie, covered with stately clusters of absinthe, and disclosing every variety of soil, from the rude sterility of an African desert to the rich productiveness of a garden ; — on the left, the mountains, increasing in altitude, jutted their craggy sides in close proximity to the creek — now disclosing immense piles of granite, with red argillaceous, grayish micaceous, dark ferruginous, and white calcareous sandstone, limestone, and coarse-grained conglomerates, naked and variegated with almost every diversity of color, — and now, surmounted by stunted pines and cedars, or towering balsam, hemlock and pinion ; 3,nd in front, the lofty peaks of Medicine Bow, rearing their snowy heads beyond the clouds, opposed an eternal barrier to further prospect. As we passed along, I noticed three or four small branches that emptied into the creek from the opposite side, and, just before reaching our present encampment, we crossed three others from the right, all of them well tim- bered and graced by rich valleys and prairiUons. This section of country, being the great war-ground between the Sioux and Chyennes on the one side, and the Snakes and Crows on the other, is considered dangerous, particularly from May till November of each year. During that time it is extremely Unsafe for a white man to venture within its conflnes, unless protected by a strong force. A small creek at our right, became the scene of a bloody tragedy two months subsequent to our visit. Three trappers, with whom I became acquainted upon my return to the Fort, tempted by the abundance of far-boaring game common to the vicinity, came here for the purpose of making a summer hunt. While successfully pursuing their occupation, unsuspicious of immediate danger, 126' LARAMIE PASS. they were suddenly surrounded, early one morning, by a war-party of Sioux, whose first salute was a discharge of fire-arms, accompanied by a shower of arrows and the sharp thunder of deafening yells. Two of them fell dead. The remaining one retreated to a hollow tree, close at hand, into which he crawled ; and, though severely wounded, maintained from it an obstinate resistance till near sundown, — keep'ng at bay the whole host of savage assailants, and thinning their numbers, one by one, with the deadly discharge of his unerring rifle. Six warriors lay stifened in death, and as many more had felt the burn- ing smart of wounds, — one of the latter having had his tongue shot out, close to its roots ! — and still he continued the unequal contest. His triumph would have been complete had not the remorseless crew, as a last resort, set fire to the woods and burned him from the shell-like for- tress from which they could not drive him. He fell with his companions, mingling his own blood with that of their murderers ; and the scalps of the three were treasured among the horrid trophies of savage victory. Of these unfortunate men, one, named Wheeler, was a Pennsylvanian ; another, named Cross Eagle, was a Swede; and the third, name not re- membered, was a native of France. They were men of noble hearts and much esteemed by all who knew them. In the neighborhood I noticed many indications of coal, of which there appeared to be extensive beds, as well as iron and mineral salts. Continuing on, a short ride brought us to the pass-trail, following which, after travelling a few miles by a road intercepted by frequent ravines be- tween a defile of mountains, we were finally ushered into the broad prairie, opening eastward, known as the Plains of Laramie. The mountains upon both sides were heavily coated with snow, which intruded to the trail, while groves of pine and aspen relieved the eye in scanning their rough escarpments. The prevailing rock appeared to be a compact red granite, with occasional strata of sandstone. While winding among the ravines and aspen groves, we obtained an in- distinct view of a strange-looking, dark-colored animal, that my companions pronounced a " carcague.''^ Of the character, or even the existence of such a creature, I cannot speak from positive knowledge — this, if one, not being sufficiently near for a scrutinizing observation, and no other of its kind ever came in my way ; but, in answer to inquiries, I am enabled to give the following description, — for the correctness of which, however, I will not vouch, though, for my own part, inclined to accredit it. The " carcague " is a native of the Rocky Mountains, and of a family and species found in no other part of the world as yet known. He seems a distinct genus, partaking the mixed nature of the wolf and bear, but is tar more ferocious than either. His color is a jet black, hair long and coarse, and body trim and slender. His head and neck are like those of a wolf, bat his tail and feet assimilate he bsar, and his body presents the mirked qualities and appearance of bryth. A SURPRISE. 127 In size, he is considerably larger than the common cur-dog, and is more agile in his movements. Unlike the boar, he will not run from the presence or scent of man, and regards the "lord of creation" with neither fear nor favor. Hence he is looked upon as a creature much to be dreaded by all who are anywise conversant witli, his character and existence. The representatives of his family are seldom met with, which afTords the principal reason why so little, comparatively, is known of his nature and habits. If the infosmation contained in the above description is correct, (and that it is so, I have not the least doubt,) the "carcagiie " presents, either the ex- traordinary phenomenon of the creation of a new race of wild beasts, or, the living relics of an order now almost extinct ; and, whether he be the one or the other, his existence is vested with deep interest to all lovers of the marvellous. An old trapper related the following story, soon after the incident above noticed, which will serve to give some idea of this ferocious animal : A party of hunters, at their night camp, were seated around a large fire, at whose side were fixed several pieces of meat, en appoJas, for the purpose of roasting. All were waiting patiently the kind office of the fire in the preparation of their longed-for suppers, when, attracted by the fumes of the cooking viands, a " carcague " came bounding from the mountain-side, directly over their heads, and m.ade for the roasts, with which he disappeared before even a shot could be fired in their defence. Thus bold and daring is their nature, and so little is their regard for the presence of man. Bearing southward, in the course of a few miles we came to a large creek, and camped early in the afternoon, near the base of a lofty mountain of the Medicine Bow range. In this vicinty were the relics of three Indians forts. On the banks of the stream was an abundance of timber of various kinds ; the bottoms were broad and of a rich soil, shut in by abrupt acclivities that lead to the arid plaips through w^hich the creek traces its way. Game appeared in great abundance in all directions, and seemed more than usually tame and accessible. Soon after camping, three of us went in quest of a fresh supply of eat- ables, and, towards night, returned with the choice portions of a buffalo and a black-tailed dear. The valley also afforded large quantities of wild onions, which were shootino: forth with singular luxuriance. o We passed the night in quiet slumber, neither of us dreaming of the possible existence of human beings, other than ourselves, within a less distance than one hundred miles. In the morning, however, we were awakened by the wild yell of savages, and, on looking to ascertain the cause, saw a dense throng of painted monsters surrounding us, who were whooping, screeching, and dancing in a most terrific and fantastic manner. Seizing our guns, we levelled at the foremost of them, who immediately sheathed their bows and made the sign of friendship and their nation. 128 A TEMPERANCE NATION. They were Crows, and, having discovered us the afternoon before, now came for a morning call. The chief of the band bore the name of Little Robber, and was a large, portly, well-made man, as, in fact, were all his party. He was recognized by one of us as an old acquaintance, and was greeted as such, when several of his people came forward to shake hands, and we were soon on most friendly terms. They informed us, by means of signs, that they were advancing against the Sioux, and their village was encamped upon a neighboring creek, a little to the right, — after which they insisted upon our accompanying them to it. Not waiting for further ceremony, they drove up our horses and com- menced saddling them. Supposing it useless to resist, we yielded compli- ance to their wishes, and, in about an hour's ride, came to the village. Here we were inducted to the chief's lodge, where commenced a series ol feastings peculiar to Indians on occasions like this. The Crows are a nation living upon the waters of the Yellow-stone, at a distance of about four hundred miles west-northwest of Fort Platte. Their number embraces not far from four hundred and fifty or Ave hundred lodges, being something near four thousand men, women, and children. Ten or twelve years since they were enemies to the whites, but, more recently, have been on friendly terms. They never kill or injure the white man who comes within their power, and rarely take from him anything without returning for it an equivalent. For instance, — they may take his robe, horse, or gun ; but, in that case, they will return another robe, horse, or gun ; acting upon the principle that " exchange is no robbery," even though it be compulsory. Less contaminated by intercourse with the wiiites than most mountain tribes, they will tolerate the importation of liquor among them upon no con- sideration, not even by traders for their own individual use. Whenever it is ascertained that any one in their vicinity, whether white man or Indian, is in possession of that article, they take it from him, if necessary, by force, and pour it upon the ground. Their bitter hatred of this vile stuff, is said to have resulted in the fol- lowing strange manner : The whites, as usual, came first among them bringing alcohol ; and, at a feast given to the chiefs, soon after, several of the latter became intoxicated from too lavish potations of the new and curious drink. In common with inebriates of civilized society, they acted very foolishly, and, on appearing before their people, the drunken chiefs became the sub- ject of ridicule. This so shamed them, that, upon the return of sobriety, they could not be persuaded to taste another drop, and thereafter made use of their united influence to prevent its introduction and sale. Ever since the above occurrence, alcohol has received, from the Crows, the appellation of " FooVs Water,'" a term at once attesting their nice moral discernment and good sense. Several years since, a missionary, on visiting them, began through an interpreter to rehearse the story how sin first came into the world, and how all men had become bad — whether white or red CROW WAR PARTY. 129 Thus promised, he proceeded to explain the great truths of Chris- tianity, and averred that he had come to do tliem good, and to tell them how to be happy; asserting that, unless they listened to him and wor- shipped the Good Spirit in the manner he pointed out, they could never, at death, reach that happy country into which good people alone find admittance. One of the chiefs upon this arose and made the following reply : " My white brother is a stranger to us. He talks bad of us, and he talks bad of his own people. "He does this because he is ignorant. He thinks my people, like his, are wicked. Thus far he is wrong ! " Who were they that killed the very good man of whom he tells us ? None of them were red men ! " The red man will die for good men, who are his friends ; — he will not kill them ! " Let my pale-face brother talk to the white man — his own people — they are very bad. He says, he would do us good ! He does no good to chide us and say we are very bad. " True we are bad ; and were we bad as the pale-faces it would become us to listen to him ! " Would my brother do us good ? Then, let him tell us how to make powder and we will believe in the sincerity of his professions ; — but let him not belie us by saying we are bad like the pale-faces !" These Indians rarely kill the women and children of an enemy when in their power, and, in this particular, they show themselves unlike most of the wild tribes found on the American continent. They are a brave and noble people, prosecuting their endless hostilities against the Sioux and Blackfeet, (the only nations with whom they are at variance,) not so much to gratify an innate love for war, as from a just hatred of the meanness of those they war against. In the summer of 1842, a war-party of some two hundred Crows inva- ded the Sioux country by way of Laramie pass, and penetrated as far as Fort Platte, and beyond, in pursuit of their enemy. A few miles above the Fort, having met with a lone French engage, who was rather ^reen in all that pertains to Indians as well as some other things, they began by signs to enquire of him the whereabouts of the La- cotas, (the sign for them being a transverse pass of the right front-finger across the throat.) TJie poor Frenchman, mistaking this for the avowed intention of cuiting Jiis throat, commenced bellowing a la calf, accompanying the music by an industrious appliance of crosses in double-quick time — not forgetting to make use of sundry most earnest invocations of the blessed Virgin to gra- ciously vouchsafe to him deliverance from impending danger. The Indians, perceiving his strange conduct to be the result of fear, felt disposed to have a little fun at his expense; so, mounting him upon ahorse, they bound his hands and feet and guarded him to a post of the Ameri- can Fur Company as a prisoner. 130 PLAINS OF LARAMIE, The Fort gates being closed against them, they demanded admittance on the plea of wishing to trade. "What would you buy ?" asked the commandant. " Tobacco." " What have you brought to pay for it ?" " A white man." " A white man ?" exclaimed the former ; " at what price ?" " Oh, he is not worth much. A plug of tobacco is his full value !" con- tinued the warriors. The commandant now began to understand the joke; and, on recognizing the prisoner as an employee of the other Fort, he told them they might possibly find a market for liim at the next post, but for his own part he was not disposed to purchase. The Indians then paraded around the Fort, and, after saluting its in- mates with three deafening whoops, proceeded at full charge towards Fort Platte. When arrived, having prostrated two scaffolds of dead Sioux by the way, they informed the person in charge, that they had brought back one of his men, and claimed from him a plug of tobacco for their trouble. The circumstances attending this request were of so comical a nature, the commandant felt disposed to humor the joke, and gave the tobacco, upon which they immediately left in pursuit of their enemies. Having remained prisoners to the hospitality of these Indians for two days and a half, we were at length permitted again to resume our journey. Following the creek downwards for the two days next succeeding, and then bearing to the left, after a ride of some twelve miles, we struck Lara- mie river at a point which presented broad bottoms upon each side \\ ith an abundance of timber ; here we remained encamped till the subsequent day. In journeying thus far, we passed over a sufficient extent of this broad expanse to give a general descriptioii of it, from personal observation coup- led with information derived from others more experienced. The Plains of Laramie are bounded north and east by the Black Hills, south by a ridge of naked elevations, (composed of soft, arenaceous rock and terrene limestone, embedded in marl and white clay, sterile and almost entirely destitute of vegetation,) and west by the Medicine Bow Moun- tains. This section includes an area one hundred and sixty miles long by seventy broad. The northern portion of it is a high plateau, almost destitute of springs or streams of water, having a mixed soil of clay and sand, producing the grass and other pecuharities incident to the grand prairies. Westerly, it is composed of red sand and gravel, tolerably fertile and abundant in rocky fragments. The southern portion is watered by a number of streams that rise in the Medicine Bow Mountains and flow eastward ; some of them pouring their waters into Laramie river, and others losing themselves in the sand. Towards the southwestern extremity, a,t the base of a lofty, isolated mountain, is a salt lake of considerable dimensions. Several other lakes INCIDENTAL REMARKS. 131 are also found adjacent to the Medicine Bow Mountains, whose waters are strongly impregnated with mineral salts. In numerous places the surface, for small distances, is entirely naked and whitened with saline efflorescences, that vie in their appearance with the unspotted purity of fresh- fallen snow. The Laramie river * traces its way through the whole extent, — rising in the southern extremity of the Medicine Bow Mountains and in the desolate highlands that form the dividing ridge between its own and the waters of Cache a la Poudre, and, after flowing a distance of some three hundred miles, discharges itself into the Platte. Upon this river and its branches are many beautiful bottoms of rich al- luvial soil, well adapted to cultivation, varying from five to ten miles in length, and from two to five in breadth. These bottoms are to some ex- tent well supplied with timber, consisting of ash, elm, cottonwood, box- elder, and willow, while the adjacent mountains and hills aflTord pine, cedar, and balsam. Of the various kinds of wild fruits and berries are found cherries, plums, currants, gooseberries, service-berries, buflTalo-berries, and some few grapes ; among its vegetables and roots are the bread-root, pomme blanc, onions, and commote. Its prevailing rock is sandstone, (gray micaceous, brown argillaceous, red granitic, and ferruginous,) limestone, (siliceous, testaceous, fossilifer- ous, and terrene,) and red granite, with various conglomerates and heavy boulders of fragmentary and transition rock. Among the mineral productions incident to this region are salt, sulphur, soda, magnesia, nitre, alum, coal, iron, copper, and gold, (the latter only in small quantities.) Among its game is embraced nearly every variety found in countries adjacent to the mountains. The high prairies skirting the tributaries of the Laramie, though favored with many valleys of fertile soil, are fit only for grazing purposes, on ac- count of their general aridity and scarcity of water ; a fault, by the way, too common with a large proportion of that vast extent of territory Irom the neighborhood of our western frontiers almost to the very shores of tlie Pacific. * This river received its present name from one Josepli Laramie, a French crap per, who was killed near its mouth, several years since, by the Indians. 12 132 CHAPTER XVI. Sibille's-hole. — Novel bitters. — Chugwater.^-Gold. — Curiosity. — Affairs at the Fort. — Amusements. — Gambling among squaws, and games played.— Squaw dresses, and riding fashion.— Items of interest to the curious, proving the intercourse of the ancient Romans with the people of this continent. On resuming our course, we soon after struck into a lodge-trail leading to the Platte by way of Sibille's creek ; — following this we travelled over an undulating and sandy prairie for about ten miles, and came to a chain of rugged mountains, bearing from north to south, through which we pas- sed, by a tedious and circuitous route, for a considerable distance, winding among rocks and narrow defiles of naked hills, till we were finally ushered into a beautiful opening facing the east, known as Sibille's-hole. This valley is situated at the confluence of two small streams, heading in the adjoining mountains, that unite to form Sibille's creek. It is shut in upon three sides by lofty ridges, many hundred feet high, consisting of immense piles of earthy limestone and marl, whose rough, naked sides, ornamented with occasional dwarf-pines, cedars, or fruit-bear- ing shrubs, present a wild and romantic scenery. The valley is four or five miles in length and of variable width, with a strong, black soil, affording a goodly supply of timber. The season was further advanced in this than in any other place we had yet visited. Several specimens of wild flowers were in full bloom, belading the soft air with their sweetest odors. The grass too had attained a height of some three inches, and furnished a most sumptuous entertainment for our jaded animals, which they were nowise backward to accept. Wishing to afford them an opportunity to recruit their strength, we re- mained encamped the two following days. During the interval we were successful in killing two very fat bulls, and were thus enabled to renew the series of feasting which had graced the greater part of our journey. I here became for the first time acquainted with a kind of beverage very common among mountaineers. The article alluded to may with much pro- priety be termed " bitters," as the reader will readily acknowledge on learn- ing the nature of its principal ingredient. It is prepared by the following simple process, viz : with one pint of water mix one-fourth gill of bufTalo-gall. and you will then have before you a wholesome and exhilarating drink. To a stomach unaccustomed to its use it may at first create a slightly noisome sensation, like the inceptive effects of an emetic ; and, to one CIIUGWATER. 133 strono;ly bilious, it mig-ht cause vomiting; — but, on the second or third trial, the stomach attains a taste for it, and receives it with no inconsiderable relish. Upon the whole system its efTects are beneficial. As a stimulent, it braces the nerves without producing a corresponding relaxation on the ces- sation of its influence ; it also tends to restore an impared appetite and in- vigorate the digestive powers. As a sanative, it tends to make sound an irritated and ulcerated stomach, reclaiming it to a healthful and lively tone, and thus striking an effective blow at that most prolific source of so large a majority of the diseases common to civilzed life. From what I have seen of its results, I consider it one of the most inno- cent and useful medicines in cases of dyspepsy, and will hazard the further opinion, that, were those laboring under the wasting influences of this dis- ease to drink gall-hitlers and confine themselves exclusively to the use of some one kind of diet, (animal food always preferable,) thousands who are now pining away by piecemeal, would be restored to perfect soundness, and snatched from the very threshold of a certain ^ra us which yawns to receive them ! Resuming our course, we continued down Sibillis creek to its junction with the Laramie ; then, following the course of that river, in the afternoon of the third day we arrived at Fort Platte, after an absence of nearly two months, — having travelled, in the interval, a distance of more than five hundred miles. To give a general description of the country passed over during the concluding part of our journey, would seem too much like a recapitulation of previous remarks. Our observations in reference to the river and creek bottoms, may be again correctly applied ; as may, also, those relative to the timber, and the geological cliaracter of the adjoining prairies. Several miles above the Fort we crossed the Chugrwater, a largfe affluent of the Laramie, from the right. This creek takes its rise in a wild and desolate section of the Black Hills, near the head of Horse creek. Thirty miles or more of its way is traced through a dreary wilder- Vjess of rock, sand, and clay, almost entirely devoid of vegetation. This region, it is said, affords gold ; and, indeed, I have received fre- quent assurances that that valuable metal has been procured, in small par- ticles, from among the sand of the creek-bed. This region also claim.s many natural curiosities, of which I may take occasion to speak more particularly hereafter ; — one, however, situated upon Chugwater, here seems more appropriately to demand a passing notice. It consists of a columnar elevation of sandstone and marl, towering aloft to the height of several hundred feet, like the lone chimney of some razed mansion, — standing as the melancholy monument of the ruins tliat surround it. This singular pile of rock and earth is nearly of a quadrangular form, quite regular in its structure, and compares very nearly with the " Chim- 134 FEMALE GAMBLERS. ney " below Scot's Bluff, in its general outlines. It stands within a short distance of the east bank of the Chugwater, and gives the creek its present name.* Our arrival at the Fort dated the 26th of April. The boat being com- pleted, all things, save the spring rise, were in readiness for the intended voyage. This craft was put together in regular ship-shape, and finished in a workman-like manner. She measured tifty feet keel by thirteen beam, and, without her lading, drew but an inch and a half of water. Her intended burthen was between two and three tons. While admiring her beauty and symetry, little did I think of the sufferings in store for me with her hardy creMA. Several important changes had taken place during onr absence. The Fort with its fixtures now claimed different owners, and was occupied by the men of two companies besides our own. This swelled the present number to some forty or fifty, and afforded quite a lively scene. Now was an interval of leisure to all hands, and the time, unemployed in eating and sleeping, was passed in story-teUing, ball-playing, foot-racing, target-shooting, or other like amusements. Several, forming themselves into a club for forensic debate, secured a prolific source of entertainment, for the time being. A partner in one of the trading firms, whose men were now stationed at the Fort, made him- self quite conspicuous as a participator in these discussions. He was very self-important and conceited, and not a little ignorant withal, and with regard to temperance, being uniformly about " three sheets in the wind," and the other fluttering, his spoutings were an ex- haustless fund of laughter. At his request, in order to render the exercises more spirited, the merits of the arguments presented were decided upon by a committee of three, and the speakers decided against, sentenced to liciuorize the club. The treating, however, was always on one side ; for, as the whole busi- ness was an affair of sport, the committee of arbitration generally had this primary object in view while pronouncing their decisions. When these were averse to our orator, he of course paid the forfeit as an affair of debt ; and when favorable to him, he was equally prompt in preferring a common treat, exultatory upon his fancied success. My own part in this performance was that of a mere looker-on, but il required of one more than my usual self-mastery, to retain his gravitv under the potent influences of so ludicrous an exhibition. Ot?ier matters of interest, however, occurred at this time, and, as they tend to throw some light upon Indian habits and customs, perhaps the reader will not look upon it as altogether out of place for me to notice them. * The word " Chug " implies cliirmiey ; of the derivation of the term, however, T am ignorant. [ I SQUAW FASHIONS. 135 At the two Forts in this neig'hborhood were some ten or twelve squaws, married to the traders and engages of the different fur companies. These ladies were in the habit of meeting, occasionally, for gambling purposes. In this they acted as systematically as the most experienced black legs of a Mississippi steamboat ; if they failed to play as high, it was only for the lack of means. Ball-playing was one of the games upon which heavy bets were made. The instrument used in this amusement consisted of two globular forms, about two inches each in diameter, which were attached by a short string. The play-ground was the open prairie in front of the Fort, and embraced an area of nearly a mile in extent. As the initiatory step, each party, composed of equal numbers, selected an equal amount of valuables, consisting of beads, scarlet, vermilion, rings, awls, shells, &c., w^hich were placed in two piles about half a mile apart, and equi-distant between them was placed the ball. Each gamestress, armed with her club, then repaired to the spot, and the opposing parties arrayed themselves, the one facing the other with the ball between them. At a given signal they all strike — the one party striving to propel it towards its own valuables, and the other to force it in a contrary direction. The party pro- pelling it to its own pile, wins, and becomes entitled to both. As success in this game depends more upon fleetness of foot than skill in striking, a large party of squaws, thus engaged, opens to the beholder a rich scene of amusement. Another game is still more extensively practised among them. This is somewhat upon the principle of dice, though different in its details. Six plum-stones, smoothly polished, and marked with various parallel, triangular, and transverse lines, are thrown loosely into a small, plate-like basket, around which the players are seated with their stores of trin- kets. The leader then receives the basket in one hand, and, briskly mov- ing it to change the position of the dice, suddenly strikes it upon the ground, tossing the plum-stones from their places and catching them in their descent. The amount won depends upon the number of triangular and transverse lines left uppermost. The loser, having paid the forfeit, next takes the basket and describes the same movements, receives her winnings in like manner, and returns it to her opponent, — and so on alternately. Much cheating and trickery are practised in this game. The game of hand, for a description of which the reader is referred to a previous marginal note, is also a favorite play with squaws as well as men. Large parties of both sexes not unfrequently engage in this amusement, and many a poor Indian loses his all by tlie operation. Speaking of squawks reminds me of not having previously described their dress and appearance. The dress of a squaw is scarcely less simple than that of an Indian. Two pieces of skin, sewed together in a bag-like form, (of sufficient size to envelope the body from neck to knee, leaving an aperture for the formei 12^ 136 INTERESTING TO ANTIQUARIANS. with the arms,) constitute her gown, which is completed by two other pieces of skin sewed from neck to waist so as to fall loosely upon the arms as far as the elbow ; then, with leggins of thin deer or antelope skin, garnished moccasins, and a painted robe, you have before you the full rig of a mountain squaw. Some of the younger ones, however, flaunt dresses quite tastefully orna- mented, with full capes and fringe-works, garnished with beads and porcu- pine-quills, that present a wild, fantastic appearance, not altogether es- tranged to beauty. A squaw prides herself much upon the number of rings in her ears and upon her fingers, as well as the taste displayed in plaiting her hair and beautifying her face. Women, in savage alike with civilized life, are vested with a good sup- ply of pride and vanity in their composition, — all, fond of show and gaudy equipage. But the mountain squaw, next to ornaments, displays the most vanity in the gay caparison of her riding horse, and the splendid trappings of his saddle. Both of them are fancifully garnished with beads and paint, and bestrung with various trinkets, that impart a tinkling sound, as they strike each other at every movement, and fill the rider's ears with that wild and simple music so consonant to her feelings and thoughts. Men and women practise the same mode of riding, (astride,) and a squaw is as much at home on horseback as the most experienced cavalier. This fashion is properly considered unbecoming for ladies of civilized countries ; yet, improper as it may seem, it is quite common with the ladies of New Mexico. As my subsequent travels in the countries bordering upon the Rocky Mountains preclude the opportunity of speaking connectedly of the Sioux nation, I cannot forego the present occasion for presenting to the curious, some few items relative to the language of these Indians, that tend to shed no small amount of light upon the ancient history of the American conti- nent. There are several remarkable peculiarities in the Sioux language, that cannot fail to prove interesting and satisfactory, so far as they go, to all lovers of antiquarian research. The first of these consists in the striking similarity observable in its general structure to that of the ancient Romans, when the two are care- fully compared with each other. In regard to the arrangement of words and the construction of sen- tences, they are both governed by the same fixed laws of euphony, irre- spective of the relative position otherwise maintained by the different parts of speech. It will be observed that the leading purpose of the speak- er of either language is, to avoid a harsh and inharmonious intermingling of v/ords, such as would grate upon the ear when pronounced in an ab- rupt connection ; and, by so doing, to give a smooth and musical turn to the expression of his ideas. The few brief sentences, hereto subjoined in the same order as they oc- cur in the original, accompanied by the translation of each word as it ap- pears, will serve to illustrate this matter more fully : COMPARISON OF LANGUAGES. 137 LATIN. Invictum animi robur ostensit. Invincible of mind strength he displayed. Omnia delicarum instrumenta e All of delicacies the intrumeuts from castris ejecit. camp he cast. Non amo nimium diligentos. Not I love overmuch the careful. SIOUX. Tepe nea-tour toocta? Lodge your own where is it ? Mea warchee muzarka nea-tour. I want gun your own. Kokepa warneche wecharcha lia. Afraid nothing the man is. Minewarka appello warktashne Medicine- water I say not good ha is. A mere o-lance at the foregoino; will at once show the constructional similarity between the two ; and, to illustrate the proposition still farther, 1 here subjoin yet other proofs of a more important relationship : LATIN. Appello, (pres. ind., 1st per. sing.; inf. appellare,) I declare, I p'odaim. Bestia, a wild heasl. Caeca, uncertain, ambiguous, confu- sed, rash. Cogor, one lolio collects, brings togeth- er, compels, forces, or heaps up. Mea, (meus, a, um,) of or belonging to me. Mena, a narrow sharp fish. Ne, (this when affixed to a word or a sentence gives it a negative sio-ni- fication,) no, not. Papae, rare, excellent, wonderful. Pater, father. Pes, the foot. Taurus, a bull. Tepor, warmth. Tuor, (tui, tutus sum,) to look, to see. SIOUX. Appello, I declare, I proclaiyn, I tell, I make known. Beta, a buffalo. Ceicha, bad, disorderhj, unsound. Cogor, a maker of amjihing,a manu- facturer, one who produces a thing by an ingenious arrangement of materials. Mea, /, myself, me. Mena, a knife. Ne, (this word is used precisely the same as in Latin, and has a similar meaning,) not. Papa, meat, flesh used for food. Pater, fire. Pea, the foot. Tau, (or tah,) a bull. Tepe, a lodge. Tula, (astonishment,) look! see there! I might pursue this comparison to a yet greater extent, were my know- ledge of Sioux sufficiently full and critical for the task, (for I have a firm confidence that many other similarities might be pointed out, quite as glar- ing in their character as any of the above ;) but, enough, I trust, has al- ready been said to fortify the position so largely waiTanted by the pre- mises, to wit : that in former ages the Romans maintained a foothold upon the American continent, and had intercourse with this nation, either by arms or by commerce. The argument drawn from the foregoing is still further strengthened, when we take into consideration the fact, that language is constantly vary- ing in its form, and changing the meaning and pronunciation of its words, as time progresses. To exemplify this more clearly and forcibly, let the reader compare the works of standard English autliors of the present day with those of the like not more than five hundred years since, and he will readily acknowledge the palpable indications of progressive change. 138 THE ROMANS IN AMERICA. If so short an interval has produced a transformation so bold in a written language, what might we look for in one spoken only ? But, an interval of three times five hundred years has passed since the Romans and the Sioux held intercourse with each other, and we yet find the general structure of the two languages strikingly similar, and several of their words identical in meaning and pronunciation ! And, though the latter observation fails in some cases, even this, so far from proving any- thing averse to the position before assumed, serves to strengthen it. The word paler^ for instance, pronounced alike in both languages, dif- fers in signification ; being used in the one to imply father, in the other fire. This apparent discrepancy of meaning may be explained in a few words. The Sioux are accustDmed to venerate the sun as one of the more especial manifestations of the Divine Essence, who is regarded as the FATHER or creator of all things ; and it, being the great source of light and heat, is naturally looked upon as an immense body of fire. Thus, in the course of ages, the term became perverted in its meaning and applica- tion, and, instead of being used to express the sun, or Great Spirit, the father of all, it now only implies the simple element of fire, an emanation from the sun. So in relation to the Latin word tepor, warmth, and the Sioux word tepe, a lodge. The lodge is employed in winter to retain the heat within itself, and exclude the cold air; nor is it wonderful that, in the progress of years, the term tepor, or tepe, should become the only one by which a lodge is known. The word mena, is also pronounced the same in both, though different in its signification ; meaning, in Latin, a narrow sharp fish, and, in Sioux, a knife. In explanation of this, I would barely refer to the similarity of shape between a knife and a narrow sharp fish. The relationship disclosed between these two languages is seemingly too close and significant to be attributed to mere chance or accident, and can be in no other way satisfactorily accounted for, than by admitting the correctness of the premises before quoted. But this position, curious as it may seem to some readers, and impreg- nable as it must doubtless prove, has other weapons to protect it at com- mand ; and, ere dismissing the subject, I will briefly notice some of them. It is by no means a conjecture of recent origin, that the ancient Romans did actually colonize portions of the American continent. The industri- ous researches of antiquarians have long since brought to light many items which prove and strengthen it, though none of them so tangible and obvi- ous as those previously noticed. Several obscure hints of the existence of extensive Roman colonies planted westward of the Pillars of Hercules, (doubtless alluding to the American continent,) have been detected in the Vv'ritings of ancient authors yet axtant; but still further proof is afforded in the relics of temples, cities, roais, and fortified camps, long since discovered in Peru, Mexico, and the United States, which strongly savor of Roman origin. The ancient works at Marietta, Ohio, have been regarded, by not a few, as the offspring of Roman industry and military science, — and various other remains, that signalize the Mississippi valley, point quite plainly to this nation for a parentage. But a proof, still more conclusive than any yet ad- WE EMBARK. 139 duced, is aflbrded t5y ihe discovery of a genuine Roman coin, in the State of Missouri, several years since. Taking all these corroborative circumstances in connection, the fact tiiat Roman colonies did exist, to some extent, upon this continent in past ages, must be regarded as placed beyond successful controversy. CHAPTER XVII. Singular exhibition of natural affection.— Embark for the States. — Scarcity of pro- visions and consequent hardship and suffering.— Extraordinary daring of wolves. — Difficulties of navigation. — Novel diet. — Fishing. — A fish story, and another to match it.— A bull story.— Hard aground and dismal situation.— Extreme exposure.— Cold, hungry, and wet. — Again afloat. — Re-supply of provisions.— Camp on fire. — A picture of Platte navigation.— Country north of river.— Adventure with a bull.— Indian benevolence.— Summary of hardships and deprivations. — Abandon voyage. Soon after our return, one of the hunters came in from a short excursion followed by a buflalo calf, which appeared as tame and docile as if always accustomed to the presence of man. This incident first brought to my knowledge a remarkable peculiarity in the nature of these animals, — viz : the strength of affection existing between the mother and her offspring. The buffalo will never desert her calf, except in cases of imminent danger, and then, never for a long time ; — she is certain to return promptly in search of it, even at the hazard of her own life. The calf, on the other hand, exhibits an equal, or rather superior, love for its mother. If she, to whom he owes his birth, falls a prey to the relentless hunter, he deserts her not, but lingers near her lifeless carcase, till the butcher-knife performs its office, and the reeking flesh belades the pack-horse; — nor then, even, does he leave her. As the honored relics are borne away, he not unfrequently follows on, mournfully, regardless of aught else, as if saying, " Wnere thou goest let me go, and now thou art dead, I would live no longer." There is some- thing touchingly beautiful in such exhibitions of natural affection on the part of dumb brutes. May 1th. Availing ourselves of a slight rise of water, we embarked on our meditated voyage to the States. The boat was freighted with some sixty packs* of robes, and provisions for four weeks. A barge belonging to another company, also in readiness, started with us, and we all flattered ourselves with the hope of a speedy and pleasant trip. The two boats numbered a united crew of eleven men, — mine consist- ing of five, and that of our consort counted six. * A pack of robes generallv embraces ten skins, and weighs about eighty pounds. 140 NOT TO BE ENVIED. Slipping cable, we glided midway of the stream, and gave a parting salute to the friends who lined the shore, accompanied by a loud hurra and waving of hats, deeply responded to by them, — and even tears coursed their way a down the dusky visages of our voyageurs, when mindful of the fate separating them — perhaps forever ! The crews now struck up a merry song, while the dripping oars, as they spurned the crystal waters, responded their time in measured strokes. As we passed swiftly along and were fast receding from within hailing distance of the Fort, an old mountaineer, who stood gazing upon us, ex- claimed, " Ah, boys ; you can sing now, but your tune will be altered ere- long !" This strange announcement, though a riddle at the time of its utterance, soon began to more than verify itself, and often did we repeat the remark, " Well, sure enough, our tune has changed." Moving along prettily during the day — sometimes floating with the cur- rent then again plying oars, — we reached the mouth of Horse creek ; and, passing on a short distance, lay to for the night. The day following we again pushed oft'; but, after proceeding ten or twelve miles, the water became so shallow, we were compelled to lay by to await a further rise, and struck camp in a small grove of cottonwood upon the right bank of the Platte, a siiort distance above Scott's Bluff*. Here we remained for some two weeks. The crew of our consort being poorly supplied with provisions, we divided our own with them, and, at the expiration of a few days, were left entirely destitute. From this on, we were dependent solely upon such game as chance threw in our way, — sometimes starving for two or three days, and then feasting for a like interval, upon the products of successful hunting. To us was a tedious lot, — there being no game in the country, save per- chance a few straggling bulls, and they rarely within less distance than ten or twelve miles. Our hunting excursions often led further than that, and when we were so fortunate as to kill, the proceeds were borne upon our Dacks to camp. We became so accustomed to packing in this manner, it was thought no extra burthen for an individual to carry upwards of a hundred pounds of fresh meat at a single load, some ten or twelve successive miles, over an open, sandy prairie, and beneath the scorching rays of an almost vertical sua. So far from regarding it a task, we esteemed it a pleasure, and were glad to appease the cravings of appetite even at so small a sacrifice of comfort and convenience. The reason for the scarcity of all kinds of game in the vicinity of the river at this time, was the recent burning of the prairie upon both sides, for many miles back, leaving not even the vestige of vegetation for the subsistence of any graminivorous animals. This we found to be the case nearly the entire distance to the forks. During the latter part of our stay at this camp, it rained almost inces- santly ; we also encountered a severe snow storm. The winds were usually high, and frequently blew with hurricane-vio- lence. FISH STORIES. 141 A pack of hungry wolves, attracted by the scent of camp, were our regular nocturnal visitors, and proved a constant source of annoyance. On one occasion they carried off a bake-kettle to a distance of several hundred yards ; — at another time, they took away a tin-pan, which we never after- wards recovered ; — and, stranger yet, one night these piratical pests stole a fur cap from off my head while I was sleeping, and in the morning, after a diligent search, no trace of it could be found. The river having slightly risen, we again loosed cable, and, after toiling all day, and tugging with might and main, by hand-spikes and levers, — twisting, screwing, and lifting, now in water up to our necks, and now on dry sand-bars, we succeeded in dragging, or rather carrying, our craft for a distance of about five miles, and again lay oy for four succeeding days to await a still further rise. Upon the opposite side of the river was a bald-eagle's nest, with two half- grown fledgelings. One of our party, ascending the tree, captured the young ones, and we had a fine meal from their carcases. A wood-duck's nest, containing some twelve eggs, near by, afforded a seasonable repast, — and, in hunting for game, we came upon the nest of a wild goose, as well as those of numerous ravens among the neighboring cottonwoods and wil- lows, which we subjected to such forced contributions as appetite demanded. A portion of the interval was employed in fishing, but with poor success, the fish of the Platte being nearly all of them small, and not very plentiful even, at that An old Franco-Canadian, of our crew, here favored us with, perhaps, a little the biggest fish story of any told at the present day. He had been down the Missouri on several occasions in boats connected with the fur trade. On one of these voyages, while in the act of reaching over the boat-side for a drink of water, he dropped his cup, which imme- diately sank to the bottom of the river and was lost. Three years afterwards he again passed the same place, with hooks and lines attached to the boat-stern for the purpose of catching fish as he glided along. A large cat-fish, attracted by the tempting bait borne upon the hook, greedily swallowed it, and, in a trice, found himself translated to a new and strange element. The creature was so heavy, it took two men to pull him into the boat, while his gigantic proportions astonished all beholders. But the most surprising thing was revealed on opening him ; — there, Bnugly stowed away in one corner of the monster's capacious maw, repo- sed tlie identical cup our voyageur had lost, three years before, with his name and the date marked upon it ! " Pooh ! Gumbo," said an old sailor, " I can beat such stories as that, all day. " Why, fellow, on my last trip from Liverpool to New York, a shark followed the ship for a long time, picking up such bits of bread and meat as were thrown into the sea. " Our steward was a very careless fellow, and, in shaking the table- cloth, he would frequently drop overboard the knives and forks and spoons, and received from the captain several floggings on that account. He waa 142 BULLETS IN A BULL. even accused of stealing them, but strongly protested his innocence of the latter charge. " Among our passengers was an old whaleman, who, being very expert m the use of the harpoon, took it into his head one day to victimize the shark. After several ineffectual attempts, he finally succeeded in forcing his instrument through the monster's vitals, and drew the lifeless carcase alongside. " The piratical cruiser was so thundering big, it took eight men with tackles to raise it on board ; — it must have weighed at least sixteen hun- dred pounds ! The body of the greedy creature was then laid upon deck, and on opening it all were astonished ! What do you think was found, Gumbo ?" " Sacre sharp ! Certes me tink dey fine de spoon, de fork an de knife * Him shark no follow de ship for nottin." " Well, boys, what do you all suppose was found ?" " Indeed, we could'nt say." « Guess," " The knives and spoons, of course.' " You are wrong, to a man." " What, in the name of reason, could it have been ? Do tell — we givo it up." " Hang me, if you aint a bright set of fellows ! — Can't guess a thing so easy ? Why, if I must tell you — 'twas guts, — only guts — nothing in tlie world but guts /" "Look here. Jack," said one of the listeners, advancing towards him hat in hand, " you can take this. We'll be quite likely to remember hereafter that fish generally carry their guts inside !" The old Frenchman looked rather crest-fallen at the curious manner in which his extraordinary fish story had been matched, — but felt little dis- posed to yield his laurels without an effort to retrieve them, — so, calling to aid his recollections of the marvellous, he again commenced. Several years ago, while in the employ of the American Fur Company, our hero and another man were sent expresses to a distant post. It was winter ; and they travelled on foot, depending for daily subsistence upon such game as chance brought in their way. Their course lay through an open and cheerless prairie, covered with snow, and the journey occupied nearly a month. Having been en route some five or six days, their ammunition began to fail in the item of lead, — and only two bullets were left. Their condition now became extremely desperate, as there was no way of procuring a re-supply, — and anticipated starvation stared them in the face. Determined to eat as long as the means of subsistence remained, their last balls were shot away in killing a buffalo bull. After furnishing them- selves from his carcase with a large supply of meat for present and future use, our hero proceeded to cut a few locks of hair from off the creature's head, for the purpose of stuffing his moccasins. " Bon Dieu ! Vat you tink me fine ? You no can tell all day ! Me no ask you guess. Bon Dieu ! c'etre admirable. Me fine forty ballas, in now WE SUFFERED. 143 he head. Me get 'em out. Sacre tonnerre ! den me had him sufficient la poudre and la ballas for de route ! No go hungry une leetil bit !" On the fifth day subsequent, we again launched forth into the stream, and after a series of most extraordinary exertions, (being obHged to lighten our boat several times, by carrying its loading on shore, and reloading as often, thus to enable us to lift it over sand-bars.) we succeeded in getting it some three miles, and finally became safely moored in the middle of the river, from which it was impossible to extricate ourselves either by going backwards, forwards, or sidewise — with or without a cargo. Here we remained for three days, and experienced, during the interval, a continuous fall of rain and sleet, which rendered the weather dismal and our own situation disao-reeable in the extreme. A cache of liquor having been made, fifteen or twenty miles distant, by a trader connected with our consort, a month or two previous, unforbid- ding as was the weather, the crew could not rest content until the hidden treasure was among them. Improving the opportunity presented by a slight suspension of the storm, one morning two of them started to procure it. Soon after it commenced snowing and raining, accompanied by a fierce, cutting wind and all the withering bleakness of a winter's blast. Still keeping on, however, they obtained the cache, and returned with it towards the boat. But night shut in upon them by the way, and a thrice dreary night it was. Being too drunk to navigate, they lost their course and were forced to camp in the open prairie, without wood or aught else of which to build a fire, or even a robe to cover or a rock to shelter them from the chill wind and peltings of the pitiless storm. Half-frozen with cold and wet to the skin, they lay upon the muddy ground and passed the interval, not in sleep, but in a state of drunken stupor, produced by inordinate draughts upon the contents of their keg. On the next morning they reached the boat, — a beautiful looking couple, as might well be supposed ! Covered with mud from head to foot, their clothes were wringing wet. and their faces bloated and swollen almost to twice their natural size. So complete was the transformation, they were scarcely recognizable as the same persons. But, regardless of hardship and suffering, they stuck to the liquor-keg and brought it with them as proof of their triumph. And now commenced a scene of drunken revelry, which, despite my eflTorts to prevent it, soon communicated itself to both crews, and continued without intermission till the stock on hand was exhausted. The lack of a fire by which to warm ourselves, contributed materially to the misery of our present condition ; there being no wood procurable for that purpose within five or six miles of either shore, and having none on board, we were compelled to endure the dreary interval as best we could. But another evil came pressing upon our already heavy load through the entire exhaustion of provisions, and the last of our stay was made twice forlorn by cold and fasting. 13 144 PICTURE OF THE PLATTE. The gloomy reality of this situation may be thus briefly summed up ; — ^ve were fast ao-round in the middle of a river, three-fourths of a mile from either shore, confined to the narrow limits of a few feet, exposed to the merciless peltings of a chill storm of rain and sleet, with only a thin lodge skin to shelter us, without fire to warm or dry ourselves by, and, worse than all, destitute of the means of appeasing the gnawings of hun- ger. But, forbidding as the picture may seem, it proved only the commence- ment of a long series of suffering and deprivation, more intensely dread- ful in its nature, that was yet held in reserve for us. On the forenoon of the fourth day the storm abated, and, favored with a slight rise of water, by dint of extraordinary effort we finally succeeded in getting afloat, and gained the right shore after pulling our craft over sand- bars for a distance of two miles. All hands now turned out in search of game, one of whom returned, towards night with an antelope, providing us with a needful supply of food for the time being. The next day, forcing our craft onward for six or eight miles, we brought to upon the left shore, where, after a short excursion among the hills, two other antelope were brought in, which furnished us with a fur- ther supply of provisions. The day following we continued our voyage till towards noon, when a high wind compelled us again to lay by under the lee of a small island. Here, towards night, having spread our robes near the camp fire, while all hands were busy at the boat, a sudden gust of wind bore the sparks among tiie dry grass, and in an instant the whole island was one sheet of flame ! robes, blankets, and all, were almost entirely destroyed, notwith- standing our prompt eflbrts to save them. Continuing on, the next morning we forced our boat, or rather carried it, down stream for about fifteen miles, — w^ading the river for nearly the whole distance. Our mode of voyaging was pretty much the same, each day of its con- tinuance. Sailing was out of the question. Not unfrequently we were obliged to unload five or six times in the course of a few hours, in order to lift the boat over hioh sand-bars, — carrying its cargo upon our backs through the water a half-mile or more, to some dry place of deposit for the mean time ; then returning it in the like tiresome manner, — now in water up to our arm-pits, — then scarcely enough to cover the sand of the river bed. As for a channel there was none, or rather, there were so many we were at a continual loss which to choose. Now, gliding along merrily for a mile or two, we are brought to a halt by the water scattering over a broad bed, and find ourselves snugly " pockeied" with no other means of extrication than by backing out ; then, wading against a swift current, we retrace our steps for a like distance, and try another chute, perhaps with no better success ; — then, again, con- veying our landing to the nearest point of land, by means of hand-spikes and levers, (requiring an exercise of the utmost strength,) we force our HARD FATE. 145 empty craft over the shoals, and again load it, perhaps, to re-act the same scene in a brief interval. Sometimes we were obliged to travel (for such navigation as this was tenfold worse than travelling) four of five miles to make one mile headway. By crossing and re-crossing a river varying in width from one to two miles — first advancing, then retreating ; now taking to the right, then to the left ; now transverse, and then oblique, we wasted our time, strength, and pa- tience, in labor to little or no purpuse. No one, unless practically experi- enced, can have a correct idea of the beauties of such a voyage. Towards night, attracted by the appearance of a couple of bulls among the sand-hills, we brought to upon the left shore, and succeeded in killing one of them. A high wind the day following kept us encamped and afll)rded another opportunity for hunting. Improving the occasion to explore the country northward, and obtain, if possible, some correct conception of its general character, a jaunt of four or five miles, over the bottom of rich alluvial soil skirting the river, ushered me into a high rolling prairie, partaking of the mixed nature of the garden and desert. The hills, in many places, were piles of sand or sun-baked clay, with scarcely a shrub or spire of grass to hide their nude deformity, while the space between them sported a rich soil and luxuriant vegetation, and was clothed in the verdure and loveliness of spring, and adorned with blushing wild-flowers in full bloom. Further on were yet higher summits, surmounted by pines and cedars, raising their heads in stately grandeur far above the sweet valleys at their feet. Taken together, the scenery was not only romantic and picturesque, but bewitching in its beauty and repulsive in its deformity. The prevailing rock was a dark, ferruginous sandstone, and argillaceous limestone, interspersed with conglomerates of various kinds. Proceeding to a distance of about fifteen miles from the river, in hopes of finding game, I encountered nothing save a solitary band of wild horses, that fled across the sand-hills with the fleetness of the wind on my appear- ance, after which I returned to the boat much fatigued from the excursion. Our other hunters had also returned ; but neither of them with better success than myself. The subsequent morning we again renewed our voyage. Soon after, an old bull presenting himself upon the river bank, we landed, and one of the crew approached him from the water-edge. The old fellow, unconscious of the danger which threatened, permitted the hunter to advance till within three or four yards of him. The sharp crack of a rifle-shot first awoke him to a sense of his situation, when, reeling, he plunged headlong from the steep bank into the river. Our marksman, in an effort to dodge the falling beast, tumbled backwards into swimming wa- ter— lost his gun, and came very near being drowned. The bull made halt at a sand-bar, near by, and received nineteen shots in his carcase before he could be dispatched. 146 IMPOSSIBLE TO PROCEED. When killed, his hams were found half eaten by wolves, and his whole body otherwise so badly mangled we left it unbutchered. In the afternoon, having pursued our way eight or ten miles, we lay by for the night. A high wind and rain during the three succeeding days prevented further progress, and in the interval our provisions became again exhausted. While here, observing two Indians in the distance, running buffalo, I took three men and started to meet them. On coming up, we found an old Indian with his son engaged in butchering. Announcing the object of my visit to be the procurement of meat, they listened without a reply, but con- tinued their operations, — laying the selections in two separate heaps. When finished, the old man led up his horse, and, pointing to an assorted pile, told me it was mine, and the animal also, should be at my service to convey it to camp. His village, he remarked, was a long distance over the hills, on the watch for Pawnees, and though in a directly opposite course from us, he loved the white man and would give him m.eat and a horse to carry it. Accepting the offer of the generous-hearted savage, I took the heavy- laden horse and returned to the boat, — the owner following to regain his beast. When arrived, he hinted at no remumeration for his kindness, and mounting his horse, would have left for his village. Where will you find among civilized people mxen thus generous and obliging ? Such cases are indeed rare. The savage here proved himself of more noble principles than nineteen-twentieths of his enlightened and christianized brethren, whose religion teaches them to love their neighbor as themselves, and do to others as they would like to be done unto ! Unwilling that such disinterested kindness should go unrewarded, I made the old man some trifling presents, which he accepted with great pleasure, and, pressing his hand to his breast, exclaimed : " Chanta-ma warstaello !" (my heart is good !) and, shaking hands with the company, put whip to his horse and was soon out of sight. It is useless to notice the particular progress of each day, or to state how many times we unloaded in the interim — how often we crossed the river, oi how far we carried our boat by main strength ; these things have been already laid before the reader sufficiently to give him some faint idea of the intolerable hardships and sufferings we were compelled to undergo. Each day was but a repetition of the toils and struggles of the preceding one. Neither would it be interesting to state the especial half-day, day, or suc- cessive days we went without eating, meanwhile ; suffice it to say, the morning of the lOth of June found us at the mouth of a small creek upon the right shore, about two hundred miles below the Fort, — having been thirty-five days en barquetie, and without eating for full one third of that time ! The expected spring rise had failed, and the river was very low and still falling, so that there was no possible chance of conveying our cargo to the States, as the most difficult part of the voyage lay yet before us. I ac- cordingly abandoned all thoughts of the latter, and adopted such other ar- rangements as my judgment suggested upon the premises. 147 CHAPTER XVIII. Hunting excursion. — Tliirst more painful than hunger. — Geological observations — Mournful casualty. — Sad scene of sepulture. — Melancholy night. — Voyage in an empty boat.— Ruins of a Pawnee village at Cedar Bluff— Plover creek. Cacne Grove. — Thousand Islands. — Abandon boat. — Exploring company. — A horrible situ- ation.— Agony to torment. — Pawnee village. — Exemplary benevolence of an Indian chief.— Miserable fourth ot July. — Four days starvation. — Arrival at Council Bluff. — Proceed to Independence. For tw^o days preceding we had been without eating, and our first effort was to procure a re-supply of provisions. Both crews started out with their rifles in pursuit of game, though not the foot-print of anj?" living crea- ture appeared to excite even the faintest hope of success. Still, however, we kept on, determined not to despair so long as the use of legs remained to us. Having travelled some fifteen miles, chance threw in our way a doe-elk with her fawn, which the unerring aim of a rifle speedily laid dead before us. Soon as opened, the liver disappeared at the demands of voracious ap- petites, and next to it the marrow bones and kidneys. The process of cooking was then commenced over a fire of bois de vache, which was continued till each stomach was abundantly satisfied. But, here another enemy assumed the place of hunger, and one far more painful in its nature. There was not a drop of water to allay our tliirst short of the river, fifteen miles distant, — over an open sand-prairie and beneath the scorching rays of a vertical sun. I can endure hunger for many days in succession without experiencing any very painful sensations, — I can lie down and forget it in the sweet un- consciousness of sleep, or feast my imagination upon the rich-spread tables of dreams ; — but not so with thirst. It cannot be forgotten, sleeping or waking, while existence is retained. It will make itself known and felt ! It will parch your tongue and burn your throat, despite your utmost endeavors to thrust it from memory ! Each one shouldering his burden from the carcase, we took up our line of march for the boat, where, arriving in four or five hours subsequently, we quenched our burning thirst in the water of the thrice welcome stream. The country, travelled over during this excursion, for the first ten or twelve miles, was a level plain, presenting a thin vegetable mould with a luxuriant growth of grass and herbage, upon a substratum of sand and gravel. The remainder of our route led through a ridge of hills, many of them naked, others clothed with grass and ornamented with pines ; — between the tumuli were many beautiful vallons, gorgeously decked with wild-flowers in full bloom, and arrayed in mantles of living green ; while thick clusters of fruit-bearing trees and shrubs attested the general fecundity and lent theii ©nchantment to the scene, 13* 148 MOURNFUL CASUALTY. Beyond this a gentle acclivity, that led to the high prairies, spread before the beholder a wilderness of verdure, without one moving object to relieve its cheerless monotony. The boats were unloaded on our return and their contents placed in a compact pile upon shore, over which were spread two thicknesses of lodge- skin, to protect it from the weather. Other necessary arrangements were soon completed. Two men being selected to remain with the robes, two were dispatched to the Fort, while the remainder with myself were to make our way to the States, if possible, in an empty boat. Everything was put in order for departure the next morning, and a gloomy feeling pervaded each mind as the hour approached that was to separate a band so closely united by mutual sufferings, toil, and depriva- tion. Those selected to accompany me were congratulating themselves on the prospect of soon reaching the termination of their arduous and eventful expedition, among the friends and acquaintances of other days ; and none were more happy in the anticipation of this hoped for finale, than was a lively French youth, named Prudom. Notwithstanding the general tendency of circumstances was to produce feelings of melancholy, his voice rang loud in announcing the varied plans of amusement and pleasure, that were to be realized upon his arrival at home. For this day, so far at least, he had been the felit garo^on of the company ; and, it was frequently remarked, as his quaint expressions and sallies of wit burst upon the ear, " What in the world is the matter with Prudom ? His good nature and kindness of disposition had won the esteem of all acquainted with him, while his cheerfulness and fortitude at all times con- tributed much to render tolerable the dreariness of our forlorn condition. A little before night, the company indulged in a general cleansing, ac- companied by a shave and change of clothes. Prudom was among the number, for whom an intimate friend officiated as barber ; — the operation finished, he jokingly remarked : " Well, Tom, 1 suppose this is the last time you'll ever shave me !" Little did the poor fellow think how soon his words were to be verified. Seizing his rifle he stepped on board the boat, and, stooping to lay it by, exclaimed, " Here's the game !" The words were scarcely uttered, when the gun-lock, coming in sudden contact with the boat-side, discharged the piece and shot him through the heart ! He staggered, faltering forth " Mon Dieu !" and fell dead at my feet !" A thrill of horror struck every nerve on witnessing this tragical event. If we had previously felt melancholy, we now felt dismal and wobegone. He, who five minutes since was the very soul of cheerfulness and mirth, now lay a lifeless corpse ! How true it is, we " know not what a day or an hour may bring forth." The sun was just setting as we commenced digging a grave in which to deposite all that remained of our friend and companion. HOW WE FARED. 149 The task was a sad one, and as tedious as it was sorrowful. We had neither shovel nor pick-axe, and were compelled to dig it with our butcher- knives and hands. The pale-moon, new-risen, shed her sombre light over the dismal realms of Solitude, and an intervening cloud cast its pall-like shaddovv upon the scene of sepulture, as we laid low the corse in mother dust. No shroud covered — no useless coffin enclosed it, — a grave was the only gift within the power of friendship to bestow! A thin coating of earth succeeded by a layer of stones and drift-wood, and that again by another earth-coat, was its covering, — then, the mournful task was done, — a tear dropt to the mem- ory of poor Prudom, and his body left to slumber in its narrow prison-house, till the sound of the last trump shall wake the dead to judgment.* That night to us was a more painful one than any we had passed. A feeling of superstitious awe, mingled with thrilling sensations of grief and thoughts of our own miserable condition, occupied each mind and usurped the soothing powers of sleep. The dolesome bowlings of the prairie-wolf, and hootings of the midnight owl, borne upon the listening air, kept sad condolence with our musings, and gave increased momen- tum to the pressure that crushed our spirits. Who could sleep, amid such scenes and surrounded by such circumstances ? The rising sun of the morrow brought the hour of separation, and ex- hibited upon every face the same downcast look, prefiguring the inward- workings of a mind absorbed in the melancholy of its own thoughts. My party consisted of six, some of whom were selected from the crew of our consort. We all embarked in one boat, taking with us a small quantity of robes, (our own individual property,) and a portion of the pro- visions at camp. Our voyage for a few days succeeding, was performed without much difficulty, except in the article of food — for, from this onward, till we finally reached the settlements, (an interval of twenty-eight days,) we were without eating full one half of the time ! Proceeding some thirty miles, we overtook the American Fur Com- pany's barges, three in number, the crews of which were struggling on in vain effort to reach the States. We glided past them with a loud huzza, and rallied the poor, toiling voyageurs, upon the futility of their exertions. Five or six days subsequently, we were, in turn, overtaken by them ; — they, like ourselves, abandoning all hope of accomplishing the objects of their voyage, had left their freight at Ash creek, under guard — and, from that on, became our compagnons de voyage. The only game previous to reaching the forks of the Platte — a distance of some two hundred miles — was now and then an antelope, with a few straggling deer. Our subsistence, meanwhile, was principally upon "greens," and such roots as we had time and opportunity to gather. The country was pretty much of a uniform character, with that pre- viously described. The rich alluvion of the river bottom reposed upon a varied substratum of sand, marl, gravel, and clay. * On my return the ensuing foil, I learned tliat the body of the unfortunate young man had been disinterred bv wolves and devoured. ■«; 150 ON FOOT. I noticed several varieties of cJays in the river banks exposed by the attrition of the water — of these were the white, red, black, yellow, blue, and green. The white clay is much used by the Indians in cleaning skins and robe an operation performed by mixing it with water till the compound as sumes the color and about four times the consistency of milk, when it is applied to the surface of the article in hand ; the robe or skin thus wash- ed, after being thoroughly dried in the sun, is rubbed until it becomes soft and pliable from friction, and the grosser particles of the preparation are loosened and removed. By this simple process skins assume a milky whiteness, and every spot of grease or dirt is made to disappear. All kinds of skin may be thus cleansed, and will readily attain an un- soiled purity, surpassing that originally possessed. Red, yellow, black, blue, or any other kind of clay, may be used for like purposes, and will readily impart to the cleansed articles their own color. In case a single application is insufficient, repeat the process for two or three times, and there can be no possible failure in the result, provid- ed the clay is pure and good. Some twenty miles above the Forks, we passed a ridge of rocky hills exhibiting layers of limestone and sandstone in bold escarpments, that jutting into the river from the right, formed a high embankment covered with pines and cedars, known as Cedar BIufF. At the upper side of this point stood the remains of an old Pawnee village, which had been deserted by its inhabitants immediately after the bloody battle between that nation and the Bioux, at the mouth of Ash creek. The bottom, for several miles above, is rarely excelled in fertility. The islands are generally timbered, but the river banks upon both sides are almost entirely destitute of trees of any kind. From Cedar Bluff, in about eight miles, we came to the mouth of a large and beautiful creek, forcing its way, with a clear and rapid current, from the high rolling prairies to the north. This presented the appear- ance of being skirted with broad and fertile bottoms, well supplied with timber among the hills. Tiiough vested with some importance on ac- count of its size and locality, it is as yet nameless — the abundance of plovers in its vicinity at the time of my passing, suggested the term ''Plo- ver creek" as a proper appellation. Five or six miles further on, we came to a large grove of cotton wood upon the right shore. Here, some five years since, a company of traders, while descending the Platte in boats loaded with furs, made cache of one hundred and sixty packs of robes, which they were compelled to leave on account of the low stage of the water. The luckless party, after enduring great hardships, arrived in the States ; but their cache was subsequently plundered by Pawnees. The confluence of the North and South Forks made but little perceptible difference in the size of the river. From the junction, in five days' time we reached the vicinity of Grand Island, about two hundred and twenty miles from the nearest white settlements. I EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 161 The high prairie upon the north shore, between the above points, is gen- erally sandy. Tlie river presents numerous clusters of islands, most of which are heavily timbered and clothed with luxuriant growths of vegeta- tion. The soil is of a deep, sandy loam, and well adapted to cultivation. I noticed upon them several choice wild flowers of rare beauty. We experienced great difficulty in forcing our boats through a large group, called the " Thousand Islands," that thickly studded the river for some ten miles, and, before clearing them, found our passage completely blockaded. ' ^ Having consumed an entire day in vain eflFort to proceed, we were at length compelled to abandon the idea. The water was constantly falling, and our condition hourly becoming worse. This forced upon us the dernier resort of performing the remainder of our arduous journey on foot. Accordingly, making cache of the personal property with us, we sunk our barges in a deep hole near by, threw all extra clothing into the river, and, each selecting a robe with as much meat as he could carry, we commenced our weary tramp. The property thus disposed of was of the value of several hundred dollars. Among other articles left in cache, were arms and tools of various kinds. No one would now carry a gun, — as we were to pass through a section of country destitute of game, and, being obliged to travel with all possible despatch to avoid starvation, good policy prompted us to dispense with every unnecessary encumbrance. For myself, however, I was unwilhng to re- linquish my rifle, and determined to take it with me. There were fourteen of us, including the coups de barquette of the Ameri- can Fur Company ; and, as we trudged along at a pace enfeebled by a series oi" cruel hardships, fatigue, and starvation, — with provisions and beds bound in close bundles and strapped to our backs, — half-naked, long-bearded, care- worn, and haggard, — we looked like the last remnants of hard times ! The 28th of June dated the commencement of this last stage of our tire- some pilgrimage. Having travelled some ten or tw^elve miles, we espied a camp of whites a short distance in advance, and were observed by them almost at the same time. Our appearance created an evident consternation, — their horses were driven in with great speed, and their guns stripped ready for action, while our or five men, mounted upon fleet chargers, rode out to reconnoitre. On ascertaining 4he cause of their alarm to be only a handful of unarmed men, they ventured up, and were saluted with the cordiality of old acquain- tances, so rejoiced were we at the sight of anything savoring of the endear- ments of home and civilization. The company proved one in the employ of the United States Government, under the command Lieut. J. C. Fremont, of the Corps of Topographical Engineers, on an expedition for the exploration and survey of the country laying between the Missouri river and the mountains. The commandant seemed a gentleman of urbanity and intelligence, and politely furnished us with all the passing news of the day preceding his departure from the States. Our smokers and tobacco-chewers, who had been for sometime without the sina qua non of the mountaineer, now procured a re-supply for the indul- gence of their filthy and unnatural taste. 152 ' INDIAN KINDNESS. Leaving our new-found friends, we continued on for a few miles, and halted a brief interval under the shade of a cottonwood grove. While thus reclining upon the green grass, what was our surprise at seeing three In- dians, who appeared suddenly in our midst extending their hands to greet us ! They belonged to a war-party of Chyennes, — had been to the Pawnees, and were now on their return, with three horses captured from the enemy. Continuing our course, towards sundown I began to find my rifle rather cumbersome, and, yielding to the advice of all hands, threw it away. Having travelled till late at night, we laid ourselves down in the trail for repose ; — the musquetoes, however, together with the heat, were so annoying, sleep was impossible. I never in my life before was so tortured by these relentless persecutors. Their sting was far more tolerable to me than the unending hum of their music. To exterminate them was a hopeless task, for, at the death of one, fifty would come to its funeral, — and to submit quietly to their rapacity and be eaten up alive by such loving friends, was more than human flesh and blood could endure. For three hours I lay, sweltered by the heat and pierced by the hungry myriads that swarmed around, until my agony became so great it obtained the mastery of reason, and I was scarcely self-conscious whether a being of earth or an inhabitant of the realms of woe. In the height of my phrenzy I fancied four demons had hold of the ex- tremities of my robe, and were fiercel}^ dragging me over a prairie of sharp rocks, that tore my flesh at every bound. . The remainder of the party suf- fered equally with myself, and none of them were permitted to close their eyes that night. June 29tJi. We started at early day, and pursued our journey till ten o'clock, which brought us to the foot of Grand Island, — a distance of sixty miles from the place of our adventure with the Indians during the previous afternoon. Here we indulged in a slight repast, and, reclining upon the grass, enjoyed a few hours' sleep, despite the continued annoyance of mus- quetoes. On arousing to resume the painful march, our legs were found in a very unenviable plight, and almost refused to sustain the accustomed burthen. Our feet, also, (softened and made tender by the mollffying effects of the water, to which they had been so long familiar, and, unused to the offices now newly forced upon them,) were sore and swollen to a frightful size. From this on, our journey was most intensely painful. But, notwithstanding all, we were compelled to keep moving, though our progress seemed more like the passage of Mahomet's " bridge of swords " than aught else imaginable. July 2d. This morning our sfock of provisions was entirely exhausted, and yet a long distance intervened between us and the settlements. Towards night, however, chance brought us in the way of a plentiful supper, by our encountering the Pawnee village on its way to the buf- falo range. We were entertained by the head chief in a hospitable manner, who furnished iis bountifully with boiled corn and mush; and PART COMPANY. 153 we were also invited into several shantees with the same kind in- tention. The Pawnee chief (Red Eagle, if my recollection serves me right) was a generous old fellow, aged some sixty years. His benevolence was truly exemplary, as his conduct well attested. My moccasins, be- ing much worn by long usage, exposed to the ground the bottoms of my feet. This was no sooner discovered by the noble-hearted old man, than he pulled off his own (a pair of new ones) and gave them to me ! What white man would have done the like ? And this was done by the poor Indian, not from the expectation of reward, but through the promptings of an innate benevolence ! A small tin-cup, taken with me thus far, was the only return in my power to make. Leaving the village a little before sundown, we encamped for the night near the houses recently occupied by these Indians, after having travelled seven or eight miles. Their buildings are coniform, and con- structed of earth and timber, very similar to those of the Kansas tribe, described in a previous chapter. Several years ago, the Pawnees were a numerous and powerful na- tion, possessing an extensive territory, and occupying five large towns, viz : one upon the Republican branch of the Kansas river, one at the forks of the Platte, one south of the Arkansas near the Cumanche coun- try, one on Loup creek, and one some ninety miles above the mouth of the Platte. These several divisions were known by tlie terms of Pic, Mahah, Republican, Loup, and Grand Pawnees. The Riccarees, speak ng the same language, may also be reckoned a fraction of this tribe. The five villages before named are now reduced to two, i. e, on Loup creek and above the mouth of the Platte. The whole number of the Pawnee nation, exclusive of the Riccarees, probably does not exceed six thousand souls. All of the western tribes being at war with them, their numerical strength is continually dimin- ishing. Slight advances have been made towards improving the condition of this nation, but, as yet, with little apparent success. A farmer, blacksmith, and schoolmaster are provided them under the patronage of the U. S. Govern- ment, and a missionary is also stationed among them by the American Board of Foreign Missions. They raise corn * and other vegetables, but their principal dependence for subsistence is upon the proceeds of hunting. Their general character is stamped with indolence, treachery and cowardice, for which they have become famous, not only among the whites, but also among their rude neighbors, — having thus attained the hatred of both. July 3d. This morning we parted company, and each of us undertook to make his way to Council Bluff according to the best of his ability. Being entirely destitute of food, it became us to urge our course with all possible dispatch. *I noticed one cornfield, near the village, tliat contained sixty acres or more, and in appearance savored much of civilized agriculture. 164 NOTES BY THE WAY. July Atli. Accompanied by two others, in an equally forlorn condition, the " glorious fourth " finds me plodding along, over an open prairie, be- neath the scorching rays of a summer's sun, unarmed, half-naked, with a shouldered pack, and not having had a morsel to eat for the past two days. It is now I think of the festal boards and scenes of good cheer so omni- present upon Freedom's birth-day in the land of my nativity ! Mine is a mode of celebrating Independence, that I care not ever again to observe. On the 6th we reached the Ottoe mission and obtained food, after an ab- stinence of four successive days. Early in the morning of the 7th we arrived at Council Bluff on the Missouri, eight miles above the mouth of the Platte, aiid nearly four hun- dred above Fort Leavenworth. In the course of the day following our whole party came in, one after another — some of whom had become so weakened by hardship and deprivation they could scarcely move a dozen yards without stumbling ! Having remained a few days at Council Bluff to recruit our strength, we procured canoes and descended the Missouri. The 21st inst. found me at Independence, Mo., after an absence of nearly nine months, — having con- sumed seventy-five days upon my return voyage, and, in the meantime, ex- perienced a series of suffering and misfortunes seldom equalled and rarely surpassed. CHAPTER XIX. The country between the Pawnee village and Bellevieu, and from that to Fort Leavenworth. — Leave Independence for the Mountains. — Meet Pawnees. — In- dian hospitality. — Journey up the South Fork Platte. — Fort Grove. — Beaver creek. — Bijou. — Chabonard's camp. — Country described. — Medicine Lodge. — The Chy- ennes ; their character and history. — Arrive at Fort Lancaster. — Different locahties in its neighborhood. — Fatal Duel. — Ruins. The country travelled over from the Pawnee village to Council Bluff (or Bellevieu, as more recently called) is generally possessed of a rich, clayey soil, which is well adapted to cultivation. Large quantities of timber skirt the streams, that include all the varie- ties found in the States. The landscape is beautifully undulating, and, at the time of our passing it, was covered with a luxuriant growth of vege- tation, (the grass being frequently waist high,) and ornamented by rare specimens of wild flowers. The Pawnees, Ottoes, and Omahas possess the whole extent of this ter- ritory, which embraces much valuable land within its limits. That north of the river and adjacent to Bellevieu is owned by the Pottowatomies, who also claim to the boundary betvv'een Iowa and Missouri. [ UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 155 Tlie Kickapoos, lowas, Sacs, and Foxes occupy the country south of the Missouri, from the mouth of the Platte to Fort Leavenworth. All of this interval possesses a fertile soil, is well watered and passably well timbered. A more particular description of it, however, does not pro- perly come within the limits of this work. Upon my arrival at Independence, affairs were in a rather confused state. Times were hard and all kinds of business at their lowest ebb. The com- pany for which I had acted had become bankrupt, and left me a loser to no inconsiderable amount. But, notwithstanding this unfavorable aspect of thing-s, 1 decided upon returning to the Mountains for the purpose of visit- ing the different regions adjacent to them. Acting upon this resolution, I expended the means at my immediate com- mand for the procurement of an outfit ; — and the beginning of August saw me again en route, accompanied by two experienced mountaineers — all of us mounted upon hardy mules and well provided for the journey before us. The first four or five days subsequent, our progress was much impeded by successive rains, that rendered the road muddy and ourselves uncom- fortable. We were necessitated to raft the Wakarousha, and the Kansas was so swollen it was forded with great difficulty, — the water frequently covering the backs of our animals. . From that onward we enjoyed pleasant weather and journeyed without further interruption ; — nothing occurred worth note, till we reached the Pawnee range, near the head of Big Blue. One morning, while travelling along unconcernedly and at our leisure, having as yet observed nothing to excite our apprehensions, a Pawnee sud- denly made his appearance directly in front of us. Such a customer, had we been aware of his proximity, would have be^i most carefully avoided, in a place so dangerous as this ; but, as he had first discovered us, it was now too late to give him the slip, and we accordingly permitted his approach, greeting him in a friendly manner. He immediately informed us that the whole country was full of his peo- ple returning from their summer-hunt, and he invited us to accompany him to the villag'e. This we declined, being unwilling to trust either him or his people. Observing several other " shaved heads " hurrying towards us from over the adjoining hills, we struck camp and prepared for the expected rencoun- ter. Upon coming near, however, they appeared friendly and were most of them unarmed. Avain we were urged to visit the village. After waiting an hour or more, we resumed our course, still followed by the unwelcome visitors. A ride of scarcely a half mile brought us to the top of a hill, and, to our surprise, placed us in the immediate precincts of the village, — too far advanced for a retreat. The entire population was instantly in motion, and came crowding to- wards us upon every side. Pushing boldly forward, we were received by the same kind-hearted old chief of whom I had occasion to speak in the preceding chapter. On recognizing me, I was welcomed with great cor- diality, and we were forthwith conducted to his shantee and sumptuously entertained upon the choicest in his possession. 14 156 JOURNEY UP SOUTH FORK PLATTE. Our camp-equipage and other articles were all safely disposed of, and nothing conducive to our pleasure or comfort was left unattended to. Dur- ing our entire stay, we were beset with invitations to feasts which were prepared expressly for us by these hospitable villagers, who appeared dis- pleased whenever we declined their acceptance. The old chief brought forward his little grandson to shake hands with us — remarking, that he would teach his children like himself to love the Americans. A small sack filled with papers was then laid before me for perusal. They consisted of recommendations, speaking in very flattering terms of the bearer, Red Eagle, and belauding his kindness and liberality. Most willingly would I have complied with his request, and made "the paper talk " for him, but the means were not at hand. The kind-hearted old man presented us each a pair of moccasins and urged our stay till the next morning, — adding: "Some of my men are bad, and my heart is sick for them. Should you go before sleep, they might follow and rob you. When the morrow's sun has newly risen above the prairie, they will have left their foot-prints in the homeward trail, and my white brothers may pass unmolested. But, if you will not rest beneath the shade of the Red Eagle, wait till the day -king is low, then ride fast till the night is old, and thus may you avoid the evil ones who would injure you." This advice seemed so reasonable, we consented to remain till late in the afternoon, when, driving up our animals, we made preparations to start. Every article belonging to us was faithfully returned by the old man, who ordered for us a present of buffalo meat. Several large pieces were accordingly brought by different individuals, of excellent quality, and in quantity more than we could well carry. This was all a free gift, — no one even hinted at a compensation. Where will you find among civilized man generosity and hospitalit}'' equal to this ? Willing to reward such exemplary conduct, we presented the liberal donors with a small supply of sugar, coffee, and tobacco ; and, to our ho.st, we gave a knife and some other trifling articles, all of which he received with evident gratification. Bidding the noble chieftain adieu, we pursued our course in accordance with his direction, — travelling nearly all night. Early the next morning we struck the Platte, and, in the afternoon, reached the point at which myself and others had abandoned our boats. On visiting the cache made at that time, not a thing remained ; — it had been robbed by the Pawnees, in all probability, as the island was covered w^th the tracks of men and horses. But what afforded still more conclusive evidence, was the site of a recent Pawnee encamp- ment within some four hundred yards of the place. The next morning brouo-ht us to the buffalo ran