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 J 
 
 
 i 
 
A TOUR 
 
 ON 
 
 THE PKAIEIES 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 fHE F. M. LUPTON PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
 Nos. 78-76 Walker Street. 
 
mTEODUOTIOR 
 
 
 Having since my return to the United States, made a wide 
 and varied tour for the gi-atification of my curiosity, it has 
 been supposed that I did it for the purpose of writing a book • 
 and It has more than once been intimated in the papers, that 
 such a work was actuaUy in the press, containing scenes and 
 sketches of the Far West. 
 
 These announcements, gratuitously made for me, before I 
 lad put pen to paper, or even contemplated any thing of the 
 einbarrassed me exceedingly. I have been like a 
 himself announced for a part he had no 
 thought of playing, and his appearance expected on the stage 
 before he has committed a hne to memory. ® 
 
 ^hilSr % repugnance, amounting almost to dis- 
 
 ability, to write m the face of expectation; and, in the present 
 mstance, I was expected to write about a region fruitful of 
 
 tir?he?nr f"" ^een made 
 
 1 ? T narratives from able pens; yet 
 
 about which I had notlnng wonderful or adventurous to offer 
 
 and to be the desire of the public,' 
 
 and t^t they take sufficient interest in my wanderings to 
 
 noS T ^ prompt? as 
 
 possible, to mee^ in some degree, the expectation which others 
 
 have excited ^r this purpose, I have, as it were, plucke^a 
 
 “®“orandum book, containing Lionth’s 
 
 nesTof TJ" w"" habitation, into the wilder- 
 
 ^f an if ®ar West It forms, indeed, but a smaU portion 
 an extensiTO tour; but it is an episode, complete as far as it 
 
 It Ts a siiSife’ i great diffidence. 
 
 haninf77^ narrative of every-day occurrences; such as 
 
 nSie andi;t“Ti,^“^ accidents by flood or field to 
 
 . ai rate and as to those who look for a marvellous or adven- 
 
 . turous story at my hands, I can only reply, in the words of 
 
 aodblessVou,Ihavenone 
 
 937384 
 

A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 Introduction 5 
 
 I. The Pawnee Hunting Grounds— Travelling Companions— A Commis- 
 sioner— A Virtuoso— A Seeker of Adventures— A Gil Bias of the 
 Frontier— A Young Man’s Anticipations of Pleasm*e 7 
 
 II. Anticipations Disappointed— New Plans— Preparations to Join an Ex- 
 ploring Party— Departure from Fort Gibson— Fording of the Ver- 
 digris— An Indian Cavalier 10 
 
 ni. An Indian Agency— Riflemen— Osages, Creeks, Trappers, Dogs, Horses, 
 
 Half-breeds— Beatte, the Huntsman 13 
 
 IV. The Departure 16 
 
 V. Frontier Scenes— A Lycurgus of the Border— Lynch’s Law— The 
 
 Danger of Finding a Horse- The Young Osage 17 
 
 VI. Trail of the Osage Hunters— Departure of the Count and his Party— A 
 
 Deserted War-Camp— A Vagrant Dog — The Encampment 21 
 
 VII. News of the Rangers— The Count and his Indian Squire— Halt in the 
 Woods— Woodland Scene— Osage Village— Osage Visitors at our 
 Evening Camp 23 
 
 VIH. The Honey Camp 28 
 
 IX. A Bee Hunt 30 
 
 X. Amusements in the Camp— Consultations— Hunters’ Fare and Feast- 
 ing — Evening Scenes— Camp Melody —The Fate of an Amateur Owl. 23 
 
 XI. Breaking up of the Encampment— Picturesque March— Game— Camp 
 Scenes— Triumph of a Young Hunter— 111 Success of an Old Hunter 
 — Foul Murder of a Pole Cat 37 
 
 XII. The Crossing of the Arkansas 42 
 
 XIII. The Camp of the Glen— Camp Gossip— Pawnees and their Habits— A 
 
 Hunter’s Adventure— Horses found and Men Lost 44 
 
 XrV. Deer Shooting — Life on the Prairies — Beautiful Encampment — Hunter’s 
 
 Luck— Anecdotes of the Delavvares and their Superstitions 50 
 
 XV. The Search for the Elk— Pawnee Stories 
 
4 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER ^ PAGE 
 
 XVI. A Sick Camp— The March— The Disabled Horse— Old Ryan and the 
 Stragglers — Symptoms of change of Weather and change of 
 Humors 59 
 
 XVH. Thunder-storm on the Prairies — The Storm Encampment — Night 
 
 Scene— Indian Stories— A Frightened Horse 63 
 
 XVin. A Grand Prairie — Cliff Castle — Buffalo Tracks— Deer Hunted by 
 
 Wolves— Cross Timber 66 
 
 XIX. Hunter’s Anticipations— The Rugged Ford— A Wild Horse 69 
 
 XX. The Camp of the Wild Horse— Hunters’ Stories— Habits of the Wild 
 Horse — The Half-breed and his Prize — A Horse Chase — A Wild Spirit 
 Tamed 72 
 
 XXI. The Fording of the Red Fork— The Dreary Forests of the “Cross 
 
 Timber’ ’ — Buffalo I 77 
 
 XXII . The Alarm Camp 80 
 
 XXin. Beaver Dam — Buffalo and Horse Tracks — A Pawnee Trail — Wild 
 
 Horses— The Young Hunter and the Bear— Change of Route 86 
 
 XXIV. Scarcity of Bread— Rencontre with Buffaloes— Wild Turkeys— Fall of a 
 
 Buffalo Bull 89 
 
 XXV. Ringing the Wild Horse 92 
 
 XXVI. Fording of the North Fork— Dreary Scenery of the Cross Timber- 
 Scamper of Horses in the Night— Osage War Party— Effects of a 
 Peace Harangue— Buffalo— Wild Horse 95 
 
 XXVH. Foul Weather Encampment — Anecdotes of Bear Hunting — Indian 
 
 Notions about Omens— Scruples respecting the Dead 98 
 
 XXVIII. A Secret Expedition— Deer Bleating — Magic Bells 105 
 
 XXIX. The Grand Prairie — A Buffalo Hunt 108 
 
 XXX. A Comrade Lost — A Search for the Camp — Commissioner, the Wild 
 
 Horse, and the Buffalo— A Wolf Serenade 115 
 
 XXXI. A Hunt for a Lost Comrade 117 
 
 XXXII. A Republic of Prairie Dogs 121 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE PAWNEE HUNTING GROUNDS. — TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.- 
 A COMMISSIONER. — A VIRTUOSO.— A SEEKER OF ADVENTURES. 
 — A GIL BLAS OP THE FRONTIER.— A YOUNG MAN’S ANTICIPA' 
 TIONS OF PLEASURE. 
 
 In the often vaunted regions of the Far West, several hun- 
 dred miles beyond the Mississippi, extends a vast tract of un- 
 inhabited country, where there is neither to be seen the log- 
 house of the white man, nor the v/igwam of the Indian. It 
 consists of great grassy plains, interspersed with forests and 
 groves, and clumps of trees, and watered by the Arkansas, the 
 grand Canadian, the Eed Eiver, and their tributary streams. 
 Over these fertile and verdant wastes still roam the elk, the 
 buffalo, and the wild horse, in all their native freedom. These, 
 in fact, are the hunting grounds of the various tribes of the 
 Far West. Hither repair the Osage, the Creek, the Delaware 
 and other tribes that have linked themselves with civilization, 
 and live within the vicinity of the white se*' tlements. Here 
 resort also, the Pawnees, the Cornanches, n ad other fierce, 
 and as yet independent tribes, the nomads ol the prairies, oi 
 the inhabitants of the skirts of the Eocky I fountains. The 
 regions I have mentioned form a debatable ground of these 
 warring and vindictive tribes ; none of them presume to erect 
 a permanent habitation within its borders. Their hunters 
 and “Braves” repair thither in numerous bodies during the 
 season of game, throw up their transient hunting camps, con- 
 sisting of light bowers covered with bark and skins, commit 
 sad havoc among the innumerable herds that graze the prairies, 
 and having loaded themselves with Yenison and buffalo meat, 
 warily retire from the dangerous neighborhood. These expe- 
 ditions partake, always, of a warlike character; the hunters 
 
8 
 
 A TOVR ON THE PBAIBIES. 
 
 are all armed for action, offensive and defensive, and are bound 
 to incessant vigilance. Should they, in their excursions, meet 
 the hunters of an adverse tribe, savage conflicts take place. 
 Their encampments, too, are always subject to be surprised 
 by wandering war parties, and their hunters, when scattei ed 
 in pursuit of game, to be captured or massacred by lui'king 
 foes. Mouldering skulls and skeletons, bleaching in some darlr 
 ravine, or near the traces of a hunting camp, occasionally mark 
 the scene of a foregone act of blood, and let the wanderer kno'v^^ 
 the dangerous nature of the region he is traversing. It is 
 the purport of the following pages to narrate a month’s ex- 
 cursion to these noted hunting grounds, through a tract of 
 country which had not as yet been explored by white men. 
 
 It was early in October, 1832, that I arrived at Fort Gibson, 
 a frontier post of the Far West, situated on the Neosho, or 
 Grand River, near its confluence with the Arkansas. I had 
 been travelling for a month past, with a small party from St. 
 Louis, up the banks of the Missouri, and along the frontier 
 line of agencies and missions that extends from the Missouri 
 to the Arkansas. Our party was headed by one of the Com- 
 missioners appointed by the government of the United States, 
 to superintend the settlement of the Indian tribes migrating 
 from the east to the west of the Mississippi. In the discharge 
 of his duties, he was thus visiting the various outposts of civili- 
 zation. 
 
 And here let me bear testimony to the merits of this worthy 
 leader of our little band. He was a native of one of the towns 
 of Connecticut, a man in whom a course of legal practice and 
 political life had not been able to vitiate an innate simplicity 
 and benevolence of heart. The greater part of his days had 
 been passed in the bosom of his family and the society of dea- 
 cons, elders, and selectmen, on the peaceful banks of the Con- 
 necticut; when suddenly he had been called to mount his 
 steed, shoulder his rifle, and mingle among stark hunters, 
 backwoodsmen, and naked savages, on the trackless wilds of 
 the Far West. 
 
 Another of my fellow-travellers was Mr. L., an Englishman 
 by birth, but descended from a foreign stock; and who had all 
 the buoyancy and accommodating spirit of a native of the 
 Continent. Having rambled over many countries, he had be- 
 come, to a certain degree, a citizen of the world, easily adapt- 
 ing himself to any change. He was a man of a thousand 
 occupations; a botanist, a geologist, a hunter of beetles and 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 3 
 
 butterflies, a musical amateur, a sketcher of no mean preten- 
 sions, in short, a complete virtuoso ; added to which, he was a 
 very indefatigable, if not always a very successful, sportsman. 
 Never had a man more irons in the fire, and, consequently, 
 never was man more busy nor more cheerful. 
 
 My third fellow-traveller was one who had accompanied the 
 former from Europe, and travelled with him as his Teiema- 
 chus ; being apt, like his prototype, to give occasional perplex- 
 ity and disquiet to liis Mentor. He was a young Swiss Count, 
 scarce twenty-one years of age, full of talent and spirit, but 
 galliard in the extreme, and prone to every kind of wild ad- 
 venture. 
 
 Having made this mention of my comrades, I must not pass 
 over unnoticed, a personage of inferior rank, but of all-per- 
 vading and prevalent importance: the squire, the groom, the 
 cook, the tent man, in a word, the factotum, and, I may add, 
 the universal meddler and marplot of our party. This was a 
 little swarthy, meagre, French creole, named Antoine, but 
 familiarly dubbed Tonish : a kind of Gil Bias of the frontier, 
 who had passed a scrambling life, sometimes among white 
 men, sometimes among Indians ; sometimes in the employ ot 
 traders, missionaries, and Indian agents ; sometimes mingling 
 with the Osage hunters. We picked him up at St. Louis, near 
 which he had a small farm, an Indian wife, and a brood of 
 half-blood children. According to his o^vn account, however, 
 he had a wife in every tribe ; in fact, if all this little vagabond 
 said of himself were to be believed, he was without morals, 
 without caste, without creed, without country, and even with- 
 out language; for he spoke a jargon of mingled French, En- 
 glish, and Osage. He was, withal, a notorious braggart, and a 
 liar of the first water. It was amusing to hear him vapor and 
 gasconade about his terrible exploits and hairbreadth escapes 
 in war and hunting. In the midst of his volubility, he was 
 prone to be seized by a spasmodic gasping, as if the springs 
 of his jaws were suddenly unhinged; but I am apt to think it 
 was ca-used by some falsehood that stuck in his throat, for I 
 generally remarked that immediately afterward there bolted 
 forth a lie of the first magnitude. 
 
 Our route had been a pleasant one, quartering ourselves, oc- 
 casionally, at the widely separated establishments of the Indian 
 missionaries, but in general camping out in the fine groves 
 that border the streams, and sleeping under cover of a tent. 
 During the latter part of our tour we had pressed forward, in 
 
10 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 hopes of arriving in time at Fort Gibson to accompany the 
 Osage hunters on their autumnal visit to the buffalo prairies. 
 Indeed the imagination of the young Count had become com- 
 pletely excited on the subject. The grand scenery and wild 
 habits of the prairies had set his spirits madding, and the 
 stories that little Tonish told him of Indian braves and Indian 
 beauties, of hunting buffaloes and catching wild horses, had 
 set him all agog for a dash into savage life. He was a bold 
 and hard rider, and longed to be scouring the hunting grounds. 
 It was amusing to hear his youthful anticipations of all that 
 he was to see, and do, and enjoy, when mingling among the 
 Indians and participating in their hardy adventures ; and it 
 was still more amusing to listen to the gasconadings of little 
 Tonish, who volunteered to be his faithful squire in all his 
 perilous undertakings; to teach him how to catch the wild 
 horse, bring* down the buffalo, and win the smiles of Indian 
 princesses; — ‘‘And if we can only get sight of a prairie on 
 fire!” said the young Count — “ By Gar, I’ll set one on fire my- 
 self 1” cried the little Frenchman. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 4NTICIPATIONS DISAPPOINTED. — NEW PLANS. —PREPARATIONS TO 
 
 JOIN AN EXPLORING PARTY. — DEPARTURE FROM FORT GIBSON. 
 
 —FORDING OF THE VERDIGRIS. — AN INDIAN CAVALIER. 
 
 The anticipations of a young man are prone to meet with 
 disappointment. Unfortunately for the Count’s scheme of 
 wild campaigning, before we reached the end of our journey, 
 we heard that the Osage hunters had set forth upon their ex- 
 pedition to the buffalo grounds. The Count still determined, 
 if possible, to follow on their track and overtake them, and for 
 this purpose stopped short at the Osage Agency, a few miles 
 distant from Fort Gibson, to make inquiries and preparations. 
 His travelling companion, Mr. L., stopped with him; while the 
 Commissioner and myself proceeded to Fort Gibson, followed 
 by the faithful and veracious Tonish. I hinted to him his 
 promises to follow the Count in his campaignings, but I found 
 the little varlet had a keen eye to self-interest. He was aware 
 that the Commissioner, from his official duties, would remain 
 
A TOUR ON Tim PRAIRIES. 
 
 11 
 
 for a long time in the country, and be likely to give him perma- 
 nent employment, while the sojourn of the Count would be 
 hut transient. The gasconading of the little braggart was 
 suddenly therefore at an end. He spake not another word to 
 the young Count about Indians, buffaloes, and wild horses, 
 but putting himself tacitly in the train of the Commissioner, 
 Jogged silently after us to the garrison. 
 
 On arriving at the fort, however, a new chance presented 
 itself for a cruise on the prairies. We learnt that a company 
 of mounted rangers, or riflemen, had departed but three days 
 previous to make a wide exploring tour from the Arkansas to 
 the Red River, including a part of the Pawnee hunting grounds 
 where no party of white men had as yet penetrated. Here, 
 then, was an opportunity of ranging over those dangerous and 
 interesting regions under the safeguard of a powerful escort ; 
 for the Commissioner, in virtue of his office, could claim the 
 service of this newly raised corps of riflemen, and the country 
 they were to explore was destined for the settlement of some 
 of the migrating tribes connected with his mission. 
 
 Our plan was promptly formed and put into execution. A 
 couple of Creek Indians were sent off express, by the com- 
 mander of Fort Gibson, to overtake the rangers and bring 
 them to a halt until the Commissioner and his party should 
 be able to join them. As we should have a march of three 
 or four days through a wild country before we could over- 
 take the company of rangers, an escort of fourteen mounted 
 riflemen, under the command of a lieutenant, was assigned us. 
 
 We sent word to the young Count and Mr. L. at the Osage 
 Agency, of our new plan and prospects, and invited them to 
 accompany us. The Count, however, could not forego the de- 
 lights he had promised himself in mingling with absolutely 
 savage life. In reply, he agreed to keep with us until we 
 should come upon the trail of the Osage hunters, when it was 
 his fixed resolve to strike off into the wilderness in pursuit of 
 them ; and his faithful Mentor, though he grieved at the mad- 
 ness of the scheme, was too stanch a friend to desert him. A 
 general rendezvous of our party and escort was appointed, for 
 the following morning, at the Agency. 
 
 We now made all arrangements for prompt departure. Our 
 baggage had hitherto been transported on a light wagon, but we 
 were now to break our way through an untravelled country, 
 cut up by rivers, ravines, and thickets, where a vehicle of the 
 kind would be a complete impediment. We were to travel on 
 
12 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 horseback, in hunter’s style, and with as little encumbrance as 
 possible. Our baggage, therefore, underwent a rigid and most 
 abstemious reduction. A pair of saddle-bags, and those by no 
 means crammed, sufficed for each man’s scanty wardrobe, and, 
 v/ith his great coat, were to be carried upon the steed he rode, 
 h'he rest of the baggage was placed on pack-horses. Each 
 one had a bear-skin and a couple of blankets for bedding, and 
 lihere was a tent to shelter us in case of sickness or bad 
 weather. We took care to provide ourselves with flour, coffee, 
 and sugar, together with a small supply of salt pork for emer- 
 gencies; for our main subsistence we were to depend upon the 
 chase. 
 
 Such of our horses as had not been tired out in our recent 
 journey, were taken with us as pack-horses, or supernumera- 
 ries; but as we were going on a long and rough tour, v/here 
 there would be occasional hunting, and where, in case of meet- 
 ing with hostile savages, the safety of the rider might depend 
 upon the goodness of liis steed, we took care to be well 
 mounted. I procured a stout silver-gray; somewhat rough, 
 but stanch and powerful ; and retained a hardy pony which I 
 had hitherto ridden, and which, being somewhat jaded, was 
 suffered to ramble along with the pack-horses, to be mounted 
 only in case of emergency. 
 
 All these arrangements being made, we left Fort Gibson, on 
 the morning of the tenth of October, and crossing the river in 
 front of it, set off for the rendezvous at the Agency. A ride of 
 a few miles brought us to the ford of the Verdigris, a wild 
 rocky scene overhung with forest trees. We descended to the 
 bank of the river and crossed in straggling file, the horses 
 stepping cautiously from rock to rock, and in a manner feeling 
 about for a foothold beneath the rushing and brawling stream. 
 
 Our little Frenchman, Tonish, brought up the rear with the 
 pack-horses. He was in high glee, having experienced a kind 
 of promotion. In our journey hitherto he had driven the 
 wagon, which he seemed to consider a very inferior employ ; 
 now he was master of the horse. 
 
 He sat perched like a monkey behind the pack on one of the 
 horses ; he sang, he shouted, he yelped like an Indian, and ever 
 and anon blasphemed the loitering pack-horses in his jargon of 
 mingled French, English, and Osage, which not one of them 
 could understand. 
 
 As we were crossing the ford we saw on the opposite shore a 
 Creek Indian on horseback. He had paused to reconnoitre us 
 
A TOUn ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 13 
 
 from the brow of a rock, and formed a picturesque object, in 
 unison with the Avild scenery around him. He wore a bright 
 blue hunting-shirt trimmed with scarlet fringe; a gayly col- 
 ored handkerchief was bound round his head something like a 
 turban, with one end hanging down beside his ear ; he held a 
 long rifle in his hand, and looked like a wild Arab on the 
 prowl. Our loquacious and ever-meddling little Frenchman 
 called out to him m his Babylonish jargon, but the savage hav* 
 ing satisfied his curiosity tossed his hand in the air, turned the 
 head of his steed, and galloping along the shore soon disap- 
 peared among the trees. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AN INDIAN AGENCY.— RIFLEMEN.— OSAGES, CREEKS, TRAPPERS, 
 DOGS, HORSES, HALF-BREEDS.— BE ATTE, THE HUNTSMAN. 
 
 Having crossed the ford, we soon reached the Osage Agency, 
 where Col. Choteau has his oflices and magazines, for the de- 
 spatch of Indian affairs, and the distribution of presents and 
 supplies. It consisted of a few log houses on the banks of the 
 river, and presented a motley frontier scene. Here was our 
 escort awaiting our arrival; some were on horseback, some on 
 foot, some seated on the trunks of fallen trees, some shooting 
 at a mark. They were a heterogeneous crew ; some in frock- 
 coats made of green blankets; others in leathern hunting- 
 shirts, but the most part in marvellously ill-cut garments, 
 much the worse for wear, and evidently put on for ragged ser- 
 vice. 
 
 Near by these was a group of Osages: stately fellows; stem 
 and simple in garb and aspect. They wore no ornaments; 
 their dress consisted merely of blankets, leggings, and mocca- 
 sons. Their heads were bare ; their hair was cropped close, ex- 
 cepting a bristling ridge on the top, like the crest of a nelmet, 
 Avith a long scalp-lock han^ng behind. They had fine Roman 
 countenances, and broad deep chests; and, as they generally 
 wore their blankets wrapped round their loins, so as to leave 
 the bust and arms bare, they looked like so many noble bronze 
 figures. The Osages are the finest looking Indians I have ever 
 seen in the West. They have not yielded sufficiently, ae yet to 
 
14 
 
 A TOUR ON TRR PR AIRIES. 
 
 the influence of civilization to lay by their simple Indian garb, 
 or to lose the habits of the hunter and the warrior; and theit 
 poverty prevents their indulging in much luxury of apparel. 
 
 In contrast to these was a gayly dressed party of Creeks. 
 There is something, at the first glance, quite oriental in the 
 appearance of this tribe. They dress in calico hunting shirts, 
 of various brilliant colors, decorated with bright fringes, and 
 belted with broad girdles, embroidered with beads ; they have 
 leggings of dressed deer skins, or of green or scarlet cloth, with 
 embroidered knee-bands and tassels ; their moccasons are fan- 
 cifully wrought and ornamented, and they wear gaudy hand- 
 kerchiefs tastefully bound round their heads. 
 
 Besides these, there was a sprinkling of trappers, hunters, 
 half-breeds, creoles, negroes of every hue; and all that other 
 rabble rout of nondescript beings that Tieep about the fron- 
 tiers, between civilized and savage life, as those equivocal 
 birds, the bats, hover about the confines of light and darkness. 
 
 The httle hamlet of the Agency was in a complete bustle; 
 the blacksmith’s shed, in particular, was a scene of prepara- 
 tion ; a strapping negro was shoeing a horse ; two half-breeds 
 were fabricating iron spoons in which to melt lead for bullets. 
 An old trapper, in leathern hunting frock and moccasons, had 
 placed his rifle against a work-bench, while he superintended 
 the operation, and gossiped about his hunting exploits ; 
 several large dogs were lounging in and out of the shop, or 
 sleeping in the sunshine, while a little cur, with head cocked 
 on one side, and one ear erect, was watching, with that curi- 
 osity common to little dogs, the process of shoeing the horse, 
 as. if studying the art, or waiting for his turn to be shod. 
 
 We found the Count and his companion, the Virtuoso, ready 
 for the march. As they intended to overtake the Osages, and 
 pass some time in hunting the buffalo and the wild horse, they 
 had provided themselves accordingly; having, in addition to 
 the steeds which they used for travelling, others of prime 
 quality, which were to be led when on the march, and only to 
 be mounted for the chase. 
 
 They had, moreover, engaged the services of a young man 
 named Antoine, a half-breed of French and Osage origin. He 
 was to be a kind of Jack-of-all-work ; to cook, to hunt, and to 
 take care oi the horses ; but he had a vehement propensity to 
 do nothing, being one of the worthless brood engendered and 
 brought up among the missions. He was, moreover, a httle 
 spoiled by being reaUy a handsome young fellow, an Adonis of 
 
A TO Ull ON TEE PRAIRIES. 
 
 15 
 
 the frontier, and still worse by fancying himself highly con- 
 nected, \Ms sister being concubine to an opulent white trader ! 
 
 For our own parts, the Commissioner and myself were de- 
 sirous, before setting out, to procure another attendant well 
 versed in woodcraft, who might serve us as a hunter; for our 
 little Frenchman would have his hands full when in camp, in 
 cooking, and on the march, in taking care of the pack-horses. 
 Such an one presented himself, or rather was recommended to 
 us, in Pierre Beatte, a half-breed of French and Osage paren- 
 tage. We were assured that he was acquainted with all parts 
 of the country, having traversed it in all directions, both 
 in hunting and war parties ; that he would be of use both as 
 guide and interpreter, and that he was a first-rate hunter. 
 
 I confess I did not like his looks when he was first presented 
 to me. He was lounging about, in an old hunting frock and 
 metasses or leggings, of deer skin, soiled and greased, and 
 almost japanned by constant use. He was apparently about 
 thirty-six years of age, square and strongly built. His fea- 
 tures were not bad, being shaped not unlike those of Napo- 
 leon, but sharpened up, with high Indian cheek-bones. 
 
 Perhaps the dusky greenish hue of his complexion, aided his 
 resemblance to an old bronze bust I had seen of the Emperor. 
 He had, however, a sullen, saturnine expression, set off by a 
 slouched woollen hat, and elf locks that hung about his ears. 
 
 Such was the appearance of the man, and his manners were 
 equally unprepossessing. He was cold and laconic ; made no 
 promises or professions ; stated the terms he required for the 
 services of himself and his horse, which we thought rather 
 high, but showed no disposition to abate them, nor any 
 anxiety to secure our employ. He had altogether more of 
 the red than the white man in his composition ; and, as I had 
 been taught to look upon all half-breeds with distrust, as an 
 uncertain and faithless race, I would gladly have dispensed 
 v/ith the services of Pierre Beatte. We had no time, however, 
 to look out for any one more to our taste, and had to make an 
 arrangement with him on the spot. He then set about making 
 his preparations for the journey, promising to join us at our 
 evening’s encampment. 
 
 One thing was yet wanting to fit me out for the Prairies — a 
 thoroughly trustworthy steed : I was not yet mounted to my 
 mind. The gray I had bought, though strong and serviceable, 
 was rough. At the last moment I succeeded in getting an 
 excellent animal; a dark bay; powerful, active, generous* 
 
16 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIE8. 
 
 spirited, and in capital condition. I mounted him with exul 
 tation, and transferred the silver gray to Tonish, who was in 
 such ecstasies at finding himself so completely en Cavalier^ 
 that I feared he might realize the ancient and well-known pro 
 verb of a beggar on horseback.” 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 The long-drawn notes of a bugle at length gave the signal 
 for departure. The rangers filed off in a straggling line of 
 march through the woods : we were soon on horseback and fol- 
 lowing on, but were detained by the irregularity of the pack- 
 horses. They were unaccustomed to keep the line, and strag- 
 gled from side to side among the thickets, in spite of all the 
 pesting and bedeviling of Tonish; who, moimted on his gal- 
 lant gray, with a long rifle on his shoulder, worried after them, 
 bestowing a superabimdance of dry blows and curses. 
 
 We soon, therefore, lost sight of our escort, but managed to 
 keep on their track, thridding lofty forests, and entangled 
 thickets, and passing by Indian wigwams and negro huts, 
 until toward dusk we arrived at a frontier farm-house, owned 
 by a settler of the name of Berryhill. It was situated on a 
 hill, below which the rangers had encamped in a circular 
 grove, on the margin of a stream. The master of the house 
 received us civilly, but could offer us no accommodation, for 
 sickness prevailed in his family. He appeared himself to be 
 in no very thriving condition, for though bulky in frame, he 
 had a sallow, unhealthy complexion, and a whiffling double 
 voice, shifting abruptly from a treble to a thorough-bass. 
 
 Finding his log house was a mere hospital, crowded with 
 invalids, we ordered our tent to be pitched in the farm-yard. 
 
 We had not been long encamped, when our recently engaged 
 attendant, Beatte, the Osage half-breed, made his appearance. 
 He came moimted on one horse and leading another, which 
 seemed to be well packed ^vith supplies for the expedition. 
 Beatte was evidently an “old soldier,” as to the art of taking 
 care of himself and looking out for emergencies. Finding that 
 ho Vv^as in government employ, boing engaged by the Commia 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 17 
 
 sioner, he had drawn rations of flour and bacon, and put them 
 up so as to be weather-proof. In addition to the horse for the 
 road, and for ordinary service, which was a rough, hardy 
 animal, he had another for hunting. This was of a mixed 
 breed like himself, being a cross of the domestic stock with the 
 wild horse of the prairies ; and a noble steed it was, of generous 
 spirit, fine action, and admirable bottom. He had taken care 
 to have his horses well shod at the Agency. He came prepared 
 at all points for war or hunting: his rifle on his shoulder, his 
 powder-horn and bullet-pouch at his side, his hunting-knife 
 stuck in his belt, and coils of cordage at his saddle bow, which 
 we were told were lariats, or noosed cords, used in catching the 
 wild horse. 
 
 Thus equipped and provided, an Indian hunter on a prairie is 
 like a cruiser on the ocean, perfectly independent of the world, 
 and competent to self-protection and self -maintenance. He 
 can cast himself loose from every one, shape his own course, 
 and take care of his own fortunes. I thought Beatte seemed to 
 feel his independence, and to consider himself superior to us 
 all, now that we were launching into the wilderness. He 
 maintained a half proud, half sullen look, and great taciturnity, 
 and his first care was to unpack his horses and put them in 
 safe quarters for the night. His whole demeanor was in per- 
 fect contrast to our vaporing, chattering, bustling little French- 
 man. The latter, too, seemed jealous of this new-comer. He 
 whispered to us that these half-breeds were a touchy, capri- 
 cious people, little to be depended upon. That Beatte had 
 evidently come prepared to take care of himself, and that, at 
 any moment in the course of our tour, he would be liable to 
 take some sudden disgust or affront, and abandon us at a 
 moment’s warning: having the means of shifting for himself, 
 and being perfectly at home on the prairies. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FRONTIER SCENES.— -A LYCURGUS OP THE BORDER.— LYNCH’S LAW. 
 — THE DANGER OF FINDING A HORSE. — THE YOUNG OSAGE. 
 
 On the following morning (October 11), we were on the 
 march by half-past seven o’clock, and rode through deep rich 
 bottoms of alluvial soil, overgrown with redundant vegetation. 
 
18 
 
 A TOUR OJSr THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 and trees of an enormous size. Our route lay parallel to the 
 west bank of the Arkansas, on the borders of which river, near 
 the confluence of the Red Fork, we expected to overtake the 
 main body of rangers. For some miles the country was 
 sprinkled with Creek villages and farm-houses ; the inhabitants 
 of which appeared to have adopted, with considerable facility, 
 the rudiments of civilization, and to have thriven in con- 
 sequence. Their farms were well stocked, and their houses 
 had a look of comfort and abundance. ' 
 
 We met with numbers of them returnmg from one of their 
 grand games of ball, for which their nation is celebrated. 
 Some were on foot, some on horseback; the latter, occasion- 
 ally, with gayly dressed females behind them. They are a 
 well-made race, muscular and closely knit, with well-turned 
 thighs and legs. They have a gypsy fondness for brilliant 
 colors and gay decorations, and are bright and fanciful objects 
 when seen at a distance on the prairies. One had a scarlet 
 handkerchief bound round his head, surjnounted with a tuft of 
 black feathers like a cocktail. Another had a white handker- 
 chief, with red feathers; while a third, for want of a plume, 
 had stuck in his turban a brilliant bunch of sumach. 
 
 On the verge of the wilderness we paused to inquire our 
 way at a log house, owned by a white settler or squatter, a 
 tall raw-boned old fellow, with red hair, a lank lantern visage, 
 and an inveterate habit of winking with one eye, as if every- 
 thing he said was of knowing import. He was in a towering 
 passion. One of his horses was missing; he was sure it had 
 been stolen in the night by a straggling party of Osages 
 encamped in a neighboring swamp ; but he would have satis- 
 faction ! He would make an example of the villains. He had 
 accordingly caught down his rifle from, the wall, that invariable 
 enforcer of right or wrong upon the frontiers, and, having 
 saddled his steed, was about to sally forth on a foray into the 
 swamp; vfhile a brother squatter, with rifle in hand, stood 
 ready to accompany him. 
 
 We endeavored to calm the old campaigner of the prairies, 
 by suggesting that his horse might have strayed into the 
 neighboring woods; but he had the frontier propensity to 
 charge everything to the Indians, and nothing could dissuade 
 him from carrying Are and sword into the swamp. 
 
 After riding a few miles farther we lost the trail of the main 
 body of rangers, and became perplexed by a variety of tracks 
 made by the Indians and settlers. At length coming to a. lo§ 
 
A TOUR OiV THE VRAIRJKS. 
 
 19 
 
 house, inhabited by a v/hite man, the very last on the frontier, 
 we found that we had wandered from our true course. Taking 
 us back for some distance, he again brought us to the right 
 jrail ; putting ourselves upon which, Ave took our final depar- 
 ture, and launched into the broad wilderness. 
 
 The trail kept on like a straggling footpath, over hill and 
 dale, through brush and brake, and tangled thicket, and open 
 prairie. In traversing the wilds it is customary for a party 
 either of horse or foot to follow each other in single file like the 
 Indians ; so that the leaders break the way for those Avho fol- 
 low, and lessen their labor and fatigue. In this way, also, the 
 number of a party is concealed, the whole leaving but one 
 narrow well-trampled track to mark their course. 
 
 We had not long regained the trail, when, on emerging from 
 a forest, we beheld our raw-boned, hard-winking, hard-riding 
 knight-errant of the frontier, descending the slope of a hill, 
 followed by his companion in arms. As he drew near to us, 
 the gauntness of his figure and ruefulness of his aspect 
 reminded me of the description of the hero of La Mancha, and 
 he was equally bent on affairs of doughty enterprise, being 
 about to penetrate the thickets of the perilous swamp, within 
 which the enemy lay ensconced. 
 
 While we were holding a parley with him on the slope of the 
 hiU, Ave descried an Osage on horseback issuing out of a skirt 
 of wood about hah a mile off, and leading a horse by a halter. 
 The latter was immediately recognized by our hard- winking 
 friend as the steed of which he was in quest. As the Osage 
 drew near, I was struck with his appearance. He was about 
 nineteen or twenty years of age, but well grown, with the fine 
 Eonmn countenance common to his tribe, and as he rode with 
 his blanket wrapped round his loins, his naked bust would 
 have furnished a model for a statuary. He Avas mounted on a 
 beautiful piebald horse, a mottled white and brown, of the 
 wild breed of the prairies, decorated with a broad collar, from 
 which hung in front a tuft of horsehair dyed of a bright 
 scarlet. 
 
 The youth rode sloAvly up to us with a frank open air, and 
 signified by means of our interpreter Beatte, that the horse he 
 was leading had Avandered to their camp, and he was now on 
 his way to conduct him back to his owner. 
 
 I had expected to witness an expression of gratitude on the 
 part of our hard- favored cavalier, but to my surprise the old 
 fellow broke out into a furious passion. He declared that the 
 
20 
 
 A TOUR OJSr THE VR AIRIES. 
 
 Indians had carried off his horse in the night, mth the inten- 
 tion of bringing him home in the morning, and claiming a 
 reward for finding him; a common practice, as he aflSrmed, 
 among the Indians. He was, therefore, for tying the young 
 Indian to a tree and givinghim a sound lashing; and was quite 
 surprised at the burst of indignation which this novel mode of 
 requiting a service drew from us. Such, however, is too often 
 the administration of law on the frontier, “ Lynch’s law,” as it 
 is technically termed, in which the plaintiff is apt to be witness, 
 jury, judge, and executioner, and the defendant to be convicted 
 and punished on mere presumption; and in this way, I am 
 convinced, are occasioned many of those heart-burnings and 
 resentments among the Indians, which lead to retaliation, and 
 end in Indian wars. When I compared the open, noble coun- 
 tenance and frank demeanor of the young Osage, Avith the sinis- 
 ter visage and high-handed conduct of the frontiersman, I felt 
 httle doubt on whose back a lash would be most meritoriously 
 bestowed. 
 
 Being thus obliged to content himself with the recovery of 
 his horse, without the pleasure of flogging the finder, into the 
 bargain the old Lycurgus, or rather Draco, of the frontier, set 
 off growling on his return homeward, followed by his brother 
 squatter. 
 
 As for the youthful Osage, we Avere all prepossessed in his 
 favor; the young Count especially, Avith the sympathies 
 proper to his age and incident to his character, had taken 
 quite a fancy to him. Nothing Avould suit but he must have 
 the young Osage as a companion and squire in his expedition 
 into the wilderness. The youth was easily tempted, and, 
 Avith the prospect of a safe range over the buffalo prairies 
 and the promise of a new blanket, he turned his bridle, left 
 the swamp and the encampment of his friends behind him, 
 and set off to follow the Count in his wanderings in quest 
 of the Osage hunters. 
 
 Such is the glorious independence of man in a savage state. 
 This youth, with his rifle, his blanket, and his horse, was ready 
 at a moment’s warning to rove the world ; he carried all his 
 worldly effects with him, and in the absence of artificial wants, 
 possessed the great secret of personal freedom. We of society 
 are slaves, not so much to others as to ourselves ; our super> 
 fluities are the chains that bind us, impeding every movement 
 of our bodies and thwarting every impulse of our souls. Such, 
 at least, were my speculations at the time, though I am not 
 
A TO mi ON THE m AIRIES. 
 
 21 
 
 sure but that they took their tone from the enthusiasm of the 
 young Count, who seemed more enchanted than ever with tlie 
 wild chivalry of the prairies, and talked of putting on the In- 
 dian dress and adopting the Indian habits during the time he 
 hoped to pass with the Osages. 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 TRAIL OF THE OSAGE HUNTERS.— DEPARTURE OP THE i^OUNT AND 
 
 HIS PARTY. — A DESERTED WAR CAMP.— A VAGRANT DOG: —THE 
 
 ENCAMPMENT. 
 
 In the course of the morning the trail we were pursuing was 
 crossed by another, which struck off through the forest to the 
 west in a direct course for the Arkansas River. Beatte, our 
 half-breed, after considering it for a moment, pronounced it the 
 trail of the Osage hunters; and that it must lead to the place 
 v/here they had forded the river on their way to the hunting 
 grounds. 
 
 Here then the young Count and his companion came to a halt 
 and prepared to take leave of us. The most experienced fron- 
 tiersmen in the troop remonstrated on the hazard of the under- 
 taking. They were about to throw themselves loose in the 
 wilderness, with no other guides, guards, or attendants, than 
 a young ignorant half-breed, and a still younger Indian. They 
 were embarrassed by a pack-horse and two led horses, with 
 which they would have to make their way through matted 
 forests, and across rivers and morasses. The Osages and Pav/- 
 nees were at war, and they might fall in with some warrior 
 party of the latter, who are ferocious foes ; besides, their small 
 number, and their valuable horses, would form a great temp- 
 tation to some of the straggling bands of Osages loitering 
 about the frontier, who might rob them of their horses in 
 the night, and leave them destitute and on foot in the midst 
 of the prairies. 
 
 Nothing, however, could restrain the romantic ardor of the 
 Count for a campaign of buffalo hunting with the Osages, and 
 he had a game spirit that seemed always stimulated by the idea 
 of danger. His travelling companion, of discreeter age and 
 calmer temperament, was convinced of the rashness of the 
 enterprise ; but he could not control the impetuous zeal of hisf 
 
22 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 youthful friend, and he was too loyal to leave him to pursue his 
 hazardous scheme alone. To our great regret, therefore, we 
 saw them abandon the protection of our escort, and strike off 
 on their hap-hazard expedition. The old hunters of our party 
 shook their heads, and our half-breed, Beatte, predicted all 
 kinds of trouble to them; my only hope was, that they would 
 soon meet with perplexities enough to cool the impetuosity of 
 the young Count, and induce him to rejoin us. With this idea 
 we travelled slowly, and made a considerable halt at noon. 
 After resuming our march, we came in sight of the Arkansas. 
 It presented a broad and rapid stream, bordered by a beach of 
 fine sand, overgrown with willows and cottonwood-trees. 
 Beyond the river, the eye wandered over a beautiful champaign 
 country, of flowery plains and sloping uplands, diversified by 
 groves and clumps of trees, and long screens of woodland ; the 
 whole wearing the aspect of complete, and even ornamental 
 cultivation, instead of native wildness. Not far from the river, 
 on an open eminence, we passed through the recently deserted 
 camping place of an Osage war party. The frames of the tents 
 or wigwams remained, consisting of poles bent into an arch, 
 with each end stuck into the ground: these are intertwined 
 with twigs and branches, and covered with bark and skins. 
 Those experienced in Indian lore, can ascertain the tribe, and 
 whether on a hunting or a warlike expedition, by the shape 
 and disposition of the wigwams. Beatte pointed out to us, in 
 the present skeleton camp, the wigwam in which the chiefs 
 had held their consultations around the council-fire; and an 
 open area, well trampled down, on which the grand war-dance 
 had been performed. 
 
 Pursuing our journey, as we were passing through a forest, 
 we were met by a forlorn, half-famished dog, who came ram- 
 bling along the trail, with infiamed eyes, and bewildered look. 
 Though nearly trampled upon by the foremost rangers, he 
 took notice of no one, but rambled heedlessly among the 
 horses. The cry of “mad dog” was immediately raised, and 
 one of the rangers levelled his rifle, but was stayed by the 
 ever-ready humanity of the Commissioner. “He is blind!” 
 said he. “It is the dog of some poor Indian, following his 
 master by the scent. It would be a shame to kill so faithful 
 an animal.” The ranger shouldered his rifle, the dog blun- 
 dered blindly throughT the cavalcade unhurt, and keeping 
 his nose to the ground, continued his course along the trail 
 affording a rare instance of a dog surviving a bad name. 
 
A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES, 
 
 23 
 
 About three o’clock, we came to a recent camping-place of 
 the company of rangers : the brands of one of their fires were 
 still smoking ; so that, according to the opinion of Beatte, they 
 could not have passed on above a day previously. As there 
 was a fine stream of water close by, and plenty of pea- vines 
 for the horses, we encamped here for the night. 
 
 We had not been here long, when we heard a halloo from a 
 distance, and beheld the young Count and his party advancing 
 through the forest. We welcomed them to the camp with 
 heartfelt satisfaction; for their departure upon so hazardous 
 an expedition had caused us great uneasiness. A short ex- 
 periment had convinced them of the toil and difficulty of in- 
 experienced travellers like themselves making their way 
 through the wilderness with such a train of horses, and such 
 slender attendance. Fortunately, they determined to rejoin 
 us before night-fall; one night’s camping out might have cost 
 them their horses. The Count had prevailed upon his protege 
 and esquire, the young Osage, to continue with him, and still 
 calculated upon achieving great exploits, with his assistance, 
 on the buffalo prairies. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 NEWS OF THE RANGERS.— THE COUNT AND HIS INDIAN SQUIRE.— 
 HALT IN THE WOODS. — WOODLAND SCENE. — OSAGE VILLAGE. — 
 OSAGE VISITORS AT OUR EVENING CAMP. 
 
 In the morning early (October 12th), the two Creeks who 
 had been sent express by the commander of Fort Gibson, to 
 stop the company of rangers, arrived at our encampment on 
 their return. They had left the company encamped about 
 fifty miles distant, in a fine place on the Arkansas, abound- 
 ing in game, where they intended to await our arrival. This 
 news spread animation throughout our party, and we set out 
 on our march at sunrise, with renewed spirit. 
 
 In mounting our steeds, the young Osage attempted to 
 throw a blanket upon his wild horse. The fine, sensible ani- 
 mal took fright, reared and recoiled. The attitudes of the 
 wild horse and the almost naked savage, would have formed 
 studies for a painter or a statuary. 
 
 I often pleased myself in the course of our march, with 
 
24 
 
 A TOUR OjT the prairies. 
 
 noticing the appearance of the young Count and his newly 
 enlisted follower, as they rode before me. Never was preux 
 chevalier better suited with an esquire. The Count was well 
 mounted, and, as I have before observed, was a bold and 
 graceful rider. He was fond, too, of caracoling his horse, 
 and dashing about in the buoyancy of youthful spirits. His 
 dress was a gay Indian hunting frock of dressed deer skin, set- 
 ting well to the shape, dyed of a beautiful purple, and fanci- 
 fully embroidered with silks of various colors; as if it had 
 been the work of some Indian beauty, to decorate a favorite 
 chief. With this he wore leathern pantaloons and moccasons, 
 a foraging cap, and a double-barrelled gun slung by a bando- 
 leer athwart his back: so that he was quite a picturesque 
 figure as he managed gracefully his spirited steed. 
 
 The yoimg Osage would ride close behind him on his wild and 
 beautifully mottled horse, which was decorated with crimson 
 tufts of hair. He rode with his finely shaped head and bust 
 naked ; his blanket being girt round his waist. He carried his 
 rifle in one hand, and managed his horse with the other, and 
 seemed ready to dash off at a moment’s warning, with his 
 youthful leader, on any madcap foray or scamper. The Count, 
 with the sanguine anticipations of youth, promised himself 
 many hardy adventures and exploits in company with his 
 youthful “brave,” when we should get among the buffaloes, 
 in the Pawnee hunting grounds. 
 
 After riding some distance, we crossed a narrow, deep 
 stream, upon a solid bridge, the remains of an old beaver dam; 
 the industrious community which had constructed it had al] 
 been destroyed. Above us, a streaming flight of wild geese, 
 liigh in the air, and malciiig a vociferous noise, gave note of 
 the waning year. 
 
 About half past ten o’clock we made a halt in a forest, where 
 there was abundance of the pea-vine. Here we turned the 
 horses loose to gaze. A Are was made, water procured from 
 an adjacent spring, and in a short time our little Frenchman, 
 Tonish, had a pot of coffee prepared for our refreshment. 
 While partaking of it, we were joined by an old Osage, one 
 of a small hunting party who had recently passed this way. 
 He was in search of his horse, which had wandered away, or 
 been stolen. Our half-breed, Beatte, made a wry face on hear- 
 ing of Osage hunters in this direction. “Until we pass those 
 hunters,” said he, “we shall see no buffaloes. They frighten 
 away every thing, like a prairie on fire.” 
 
A TOUR ON T1U£ PRAIUim. 
 
 25 
 
 The morning repast being over, the party amused them- 
 selves in various ways. Some shot with their rifles at a mai*k, 
 others lay asleep half buried in the deep bed of fob age, witli 
 their heads resting on their saddles ; others gossiped round the 
 fire at the foot of a tree, which sent up wreaths of blue smoke 
 among the branches. The horses banqueted luxuriously on 
 the pea-vines, and some lay down and rolled amongst them. 
 
 We were overshadowed by lofty trees, with straight, smooth 
 trunks, like stately columns ; and as the glancing rays of the 
 sun shone through the transparent leaves, tinted with the 
 many-colored hues of autumn, I was reminded of the effect 
 of sunshine among the stained windows and clustering col- 
 umns of a Gothic cathedral. Indeed there is a grandeur and 
 solemnity in our spacious forests of the West, that awaken in 
 me the same feeling I have experienced in those vast and 
 venerable piles, and the sound of the wind sweeping through 
 them, supplies occasionally the deep breathings of the organ. 
 
 About noon the bugle sounded to horse, and we were again 
 on the march, hoping to arrive at the encampment of the 
 rangers before night ; as the old Osage had assured us it was 
 not above ten or twelve miles distant. In our course through 
 a forest, we passed by a lonely pool, covered with the most 
 magnificent water-lilies I had ever beheld ; among which swam 
 several wood-ducks, one of the most beautiful of water-fowl, 
 remarkable for the gracefulness and brilliancy of its plumage. 
 
 After proceeding some distance farther, we came down upon 
 the banks of the Arkansas, at a place where tracks of numer- 
 ous horses, all entering the water, showed where a party of 
 Osage hunters had recently crossed the river on their way to 
 the buffalo range. After letting our horses drink in the river, 
 we continued along its bank for a space, and then across 
 prairies, where we saw a distant smoke, which we hoped might 
 proceed from the encampment of the rangers. Following 
 what we supposed to be their trail, we came to a meadow in 
 which were a number of horses grazing : they were not, how- 
 ever, the horses of the troop. A little farther on, we reached a 
 stragghng Osage village, on the banks of the Arkansas. Our 
 arrival created quite a sensation. A number of old men came 
 forward and shook hands with us all severally; while the 
 women and children huddled together in groups, staring at us 
 wildly, chattering and laughing among themselves. We 
 found that all the young men of the village had departed on a 
 hunting expedition, leaving the women and children and old 
 
26 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 men beliind. Here the Commissioner made a speech from on 
 horseback ; informing his hearers of the purport of his mission, 
 to promote a general peace among the tribes of the West, and 
 urging them to lay aside all warlike and bloodthirsty notions, 
 and not to make any wanton attacks upon the Pawnees. 
 This speech being interpreted by Beatte, seemed to have a 
 most pacifying effect upon the multitude, who promised faith- 
 fully that, as far as in them lay, the peace should not be 
 disturbed ; and indeed their age and sex gave some reason to 
 trust that they would keep their word. 
 
 Still hoping to reach the camp of the rangers before night- 
 fall, we pushed on until twihght, when we were obliged to 
 halt on the borders of a ravine. The rangers bivouacked 
 under trees, at the bottom of the dell, while we pitched 
 our tent on a rocky knoll near a running stream. The night 
 came on dark and overcast, with flying clouds, and much 
 appearance of rain. The fires of the rangers burnt brightly 
 in the dell, and threw strong masses of light upon the robber- 
 looking groups that were cooking, eating, and drinking around 
 them. To add to the wildness of the scene, several Osage 
 Indians, visitors from the village we had passed, were mingled 
 among the men. Three of them came and seated themselves 
 by our fire. They watched every thing that was going on 
 around them in silence, and looked hke figures of monumental 
 bronze. We gave them food, and, what they most relished, 
 coffee ; for the Indians partake in the universal fondness for 
 this beverage, which pervades the West. When they had 
 made their supper, they stretched themselves, side by side, 
 before the fire, and began a low nasal chant, drumming with 
 their hands upon their breasts, by way of accompaniment. 
 Their chant seemed to consist of regular staves, every one ter- 
 minating, not in a melodious cadence, but in the abrupt in- 
 terjection huh ! uttered almost like a hiccup. This chant, we 
 were told by our interpreter, Beatte, related to ourselves, our 
 appearance, our treatment of them, and all that they knew of 
 our plans. In one part they spoke of the young Count, whose 
 animated character and eagerness for Indian enterprise had 
 struck their fancy, and they indulged in some waggery about 
 him and the young Indian beauties, that produced great mer- 
 riment among our half-breeds. 
 
 This mode of improvising is common throughout the savage 
 tribes; and in this way, with a few simple inflections of the 
 voice, they chant aU their exploits in war and hunting, and 
 
A TOUll ON THE PRA IIUICS. 
 
 27 
 
 occasionally indulge in a vein of comic humor and dry satire, 
 to which the Indians appear to me much more prone than is 
 generally imagined. 
 
 In fact, the Indians that I have had an opportunity of seeing 
 in real life are quite different from those described in poetry. 
 They are by no means the stoics that they are represented ; 
 taciturn, unbending, without a tear or a smile. Taciturn they 
 are, it is true, when in company with white men, whose good- 
 will they distrust, and whose language they do not understand ; 
 but the white man is equally taciturn under like circumstances. 
 When the Indians are among themselves, however, there 
 cannot be greater gossips. Half their time is taken up in 
 talking over their adventures in war and hunting, and in tell- 
 ing whimsical stories. They are great mimics and buffoons, 
 also, and entertain themselves excessively at the expense of 
 the whites with whom they have associated, and who have 
 supposed them impressed with profound respect for their 
 grandeur and dignity. They are curious observers, noting 
 every thing in silence, but with a keen and watchful eye; 
 occasionally exchanging a glance or a grunt with each other, 
 when any thing particularly stril^es them: but reserving all 
 comments vmtil they are alone. Then it is that they give full 
 scope to criticism, satire, mimicry, and mirth. 
 
 In the course of my journey along the frontier, I have had 
 repeated opportunities of noticing their excitability and boister- 
 ous merriment at their games ; and have occasionally noticed 
 a group of Osages sitting round a fire until a late hour of the 
 night, engaged in the most animated and lively conversation ; 
 and at times making the woods resound with peals of laughter. 
 As to tears, they have them in abundance, both real and 
 affected; at times they make a merit of them. No one weeps 
 more bitterly or profusely at the death of a relative or friend : 
 and they have stated times when they repair to howl and 
 lament at their graves. I have heard doleful wailings at day- 
 break, in the neighboring Indian villages, made by some of the 
 inhabitants, who go out at that hour into the fields, to mourn 
 and weep for the dead : at such times, I am told, the tears will 
 stream down their cheeks in torrents. 
 
 As far as I can judge, the Indian of poetical fiction is like the 
 shepherd of pastoral romance, a mere personification of imagi- 
 nary attributes. 
 
 The nasal chant of our Osage guests gradually died away ; 
 they covered their heads with their blankets and fell fast 
 
28 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 asleep, and in a little while all was silent, except the pattering 
 of scattered rain-drops upon our tent. 
 
 In the morning our Indian visitors breakfasted with us, but 
 the young Osage who was to act as esquire to the Count in his 
 knight-errantry on the prairies, was nowhere to he found. . 
 His wild horse, too, was missing, and, after many conjectures, i 
 we came to the conclusion that he had taken “Indian leave” oi i 
 us in the night. We afterwards ascertained that he had been 1' 
 persuaded so to do by the Osages we had recently met with; f 
 who had represented to him the perils that would attend him ^ ' 
 in an expedition to the Pawnee hunting grounds, where he 
 might fall into the hands of the implacable enemies of his 
 tribe; and, what was scarcely less to be apprehended, the 
 annoyances to which he would he subjected from the capri- 
 cious and overbearing conduct of the white men; who, as I 
 have witnessed in my own short experience, are prone to treat 
 the poor Indians as little better than brute animals. Indeed, 
 he had had a specimen of it himself in the narrow escape he 
 made from the infliction of “Lynch’s law,” by the hard- j 
 winking worthy of the frontier, for the flagitious crime of 
 finding a stray horse. 
 
 The disappearance of the youth was generally regretted by 
 our party, for we had all taken a great fancy to him from his 
 handsome, frank, and manly appearance, and the easy grace 
 of his deportment. He was indeed a native-born gentleman. 
 
 By none, however, was he so much lamented as by the young 
 Count, who thus suddenly found himself deprived of his 
 esquire. I regretted the departure of the Osage for his own 
 sake, for we should have cherished him throughout the expe- 
 dition, and I am convinced, from the munificent spirit of his 
 patron, he would have returned to his tribe laden with wealth 
 of beads and trinkets and Indian blankets. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE HONEY CAMP. 
 
 The weather, which had been rainy in the night, having 
 held up, we resumed our march at seven o’clock in the morn- 
 ing, in confident hope of soon arriving at the encampment of 
 the rangers, We had not ridden above three or four miles 
 
A TOUR ON THE FR AIRIES. 
 
 29 
 
 when we came to a large tree which had recently been felled 
 by an axe, for the wild honey contained in the hollow of its 
 trunk, several broken flakes of which still remained. We 
 now felt sure that the camp could not be far distant. About a 
 couple of miles further some of the rangers set up a shout, and 
 pointed to a number of horses grazing in a woody bottom. A 
 few paces brought us to the brow of an elevated ridge, whence 
 we looked down upon the encampment. It was a wild bandit, 
 or Robin Hood, scene. In a beautiful open forest, traversed by 
 a running stream, were booths of bark and branches, and tents 
 of blankets, temporary shelters from the recent rain, for the 
 rangers commonly bivouac in the open air. There were groups 
 of rangers in every kind of uncouth garb. Some were cooking 
 at large flres made at the feet of trees ; some were stretching 
 and dressing deer skins ; some were shooting at a mark, and 
 some lying about on the grass. Venison jerked, and hung on 
 frames, was drying over the embers in one place ; in another 
 lay carcasses recently brought in by the hunters. Stacks of 
 rifles were leaning against the trunks of the trees, and saddles, 
 bridles, and powder-horns hangingabove them, while the horses 
 were grazing here and there among the thickets. 
 
 Our arrival was greeted with acclamation. The rangers 
 crowded about their comrades to inquire the news from the 
 fort; for our own part, we were received in frank simple hun- 
 ter’s style by Captain Bean, the commander of the company ; 
 a man about forty years of age, vigorous and active. His life 
 had been chiefly passed on the frontier, occasionally in Indian 
 warfare, so that he was a thorough woodsman, and a first-rate 
 hunter. He was equipped in character; in leathern hunting 
 shirt and leggings, and a leathern foraging cap. 
 
 While we were conversing with the Captain, a veteran 
 himtsman approached, whose whole appearance struck me. 
 He was of the middle size, but tough and weather-proved ; a 
 head partly bald and garnished with loose iron-gray locks, and 
 a fine black eye, beaming with youthful spirit. His dress was 
 similar to that of the Captain, a rifle shirt and leggings of 
 dressed deer skin, that had evidently seen service ; a powder- 
 horn was slung by his side, a hunting-knife stuck in his belt, 
 and in his hand was an ancient and trusty rifle, doubtless as 
 dear to him as a bosom friend. He asked permission to go 
 hunting, which was readily granted. ^‘That’s old Ryan,” said 
 the Captain, when he had gone; ‘‘there’s not a better hunter in 
 the camp; he’s sure to bring in game,” 
 
30 
 
 A TOUR OAT 'THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 In a little while our pack-horses were unloaded and turned 
 loose to revel among the pea- vines. Our tent was pitched; our 
 fire made; the half of a deer had been sent to us from the Cap- 
 tain’s lodge ; Beatte brought in a couple of wild turkeys ; the 
 spits were laden, and the camp-kettle crannned with meat; and 
 to crown our luxuries, a basin filled with great flakes of deli- 
 cious honey, the spoils of a plundered bee-tree, was given us by 
 one of the rangers. 
 
 Our little Frenchman, Tonish, was in an ecstasy, and tuck- 
 ing up his sleeves to the elbows, set to work to make a display 
 of his culinary skill, on which he prided himself almost as 
 much as upon his hunting, his riding, and his warlike prowess. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A BEE HUNT. 
 
 The beautiful forest in which we were encamped abounded in 
 bee-trees ; that is to say, trees in the decayed trunks of which 
 wild bees had established their hives. It is surprising in what 
 countless swarms the bees have overspread the Far West, within 
 but a moderate number of years. The Indians consider them the 
 harbinger of the white man, as the buffalo is of the red man ; 
 and say that, in proportion as the bee advances, the Indian 
 and buffalo retire. We are always accustomed to associate 
 the hum of the bee-hive with the farmhouse and flower-garden, 
 and to consider those industrious little animals as connected 
 with the busy haunts of man, and I am told that the wild bee 
 is seldom to be met with at any great distance from the fron- 
 tier. They have been the heralds of civilization, steadfastly 
 preceding it as it advanced from the Atlantic borders, and 
 some of the ancient settlers of the West pretend to give the 
 very year when the honey-bee first crossed the Mississippi. 
 The Indians with surprise found the mouldering trees of their 
 forests suddenly teeming with ambrosial sweets, and nothing, 
 I am told, can exceed the greedy relish with which they ban^ 
 quet for the first time upon this unbought luxury of the wilder^ 
 ness. 
 
 At present the honey-bee swarms in myriads, in the noble 
 groves and forests which skirt and intersect the prairies, and 
 extend along the alluvial bottoms of the rivers. It seems to 
 
A TOUR ON THE PR A HUES. 
 
 31 
 
 me as if these beautiful regions answer literally to the descrip- 
 tion of the land of promise, ‘^a land flowing with milk and 
 honey for the rich pasturage of the prairies is calculated to 
 sustain herds of cattle as countless as the sands upon the sea- 
 shore, while the flowers with which they are enamelled render 
 them a very paradise for the nectar-seeking bee. 
 
 We had not been long in the camp when a party set out in 
 quest of a hee-tree ; and, being curious to witness the sport, I 
 gladly accepted an invitation to accompany them. The party 
 was headed by a veteran bee-hunter, a tall lank fellow in 
 homespun garb that hung loosely about his limbs, and a straw 
 hat shaped not unlike a bee-hive ; a comrade, equally uncouth 
 in garb, and without a hat, straddled along at his heels, with a 
 long rifle on his shoulder. To these succeeded half a dozen 
 others, some with axes and some with rifles, for no one stirs 
 far from the camp without his firearms, so as to be ready 
 either for wild deer or wild Indian^ 
 
 After proceeding some distance we came to an open glade 
 on the skirts of the forest. Here our leader halted, and then 
 advanced quietly to a low bush, on the top of which I per- 
 ceived a piece of honey-comb. This I found was the bait or 
 lure for the wild bees. Several were humming about it, and 
 diving into its cells. When they had laden themselves with 
 honey, they would rise into the air, and dart off in a straight 
 line, almost with the velocity of a bullet. The hunters 
 watched attentively the course they took, and then set off in 
 the same direction, stmnbling along over twisted roots and 
 fallen trees, with their eyes turned up to the sky. In this way 
 they traced the honey-laden bees to their hive, in the hollow 
 trunk of a blasted oak, where, after buzzing about for a mo- 
 ment, they entered a hole about sixty feet from the ground. 
 
 Two of the bee-hunters now plied their axes vigorously at 
 the foot of the tree to level it with the ground. The mere 
 spectators and amateurs, in the meantime, drew off to a 
 cautious distance, to be out of the way of the falling of the 
 tree and the vengeance of its inmates. The jarring blows of 
 the axe seemed to have no effect in alarming or disturbing this 
 most industrious community. They continued to ply at their 
 usual occupations, some arriving full freighted into port, 
 others sallying forth on new expeditions, like so many mer- 
 chantmen in a money-making metropolis, little suspicious ^ of 
 impending bankruptcy and downfall. Even a loud crack 
 which announced the disrupture of the trunk, failed to divert 
 
32 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 their attention from the intense pursuit of gain; at length 
 down came the tree with a tremendous crash, bursting open 
 from end to end, and displaying all the hoarded treasures of 
 the commonwealth. 
 
 One of the hunters immediately ran up with a wisp of 
 lighted hay as a defence against the bees. The latter, how- 
 ever, made no attack and sought no revenge; they seemed 
 stupefied by the catastrophe and unsuspicious of its cause, and 
 remained crawling and buzzing about the ruins without offer- 
 ing us any molestation. Every one of the party now fell to, 
 with spoon and hunting-knife, to scoop out the fiakes of 
 honey-comb with which the hollow trunk was stored. Some 
 of them were of old date and a deep brown color, others were 
 beautifully white, and the honey in their cells was almost 
 limpid. Such of the combs as were entire were placed in 
 camp kettles to be conveyed to the encampment ; those which 
 had been shivered in the fall were devoured upon the spot. 
 Every stark bee-hunter was to be seen with a rich morsel in 
 his hand, dripping about his fingers, and disappearing as 
 rapidly as a cream tart before the holiday appetite of a school- 
 boy. 
 
 Nor was it the bee-hunters alone that profited by the down- 
 fall of this industrious community ; as if the bees would carry 
 through the similitude of their habits with those of laborious 
 and gainful man, I beheld numbers from rival hives, arriving 
 on eager wing, to enrich themselves with the ruins of their 
 neighbors. These busied themselves as eagerly and cheerfully | 
 as so many wreckers on an Indiaman that has been driven on 
 shore ; plunging into the cells of the broken honey-combs, ban- j 
 quoting greedily on the spoil, and then winging their way 
 fuU-freighted to their homes. As to the poor proprietors of 
 the ruin, they seemed to have no heart to do any thing, not 
 even to taste the nectar that fiowed around them ; but crawled 
 backward and forward, in vacant desolation, as I have seen a 
 poor fellow with his hands in his pockets, whistling vacantly 
 and despondingly about the ruins of his house that had been 
 burnt. 
 
 It is difficult to describe the bewilderment and confusion of 
 the bees of the bankrupt hive who had been absent at the time 
 of the catastrophe, and who arrived from time to time, with 
 full cargoes from abroad. At first they wheeled about in 
 the air, in the place where the fallen tree had once reared its 
 head, astonished at finding it all a vacuum. A t length, as if 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 83 
 
 comprehending their disaster, they settled down in clusters o? i 
 a dry branch of a neighboring tree, whence they seemed to 
 contemplate the prostrate ruin, and to buzz forth doleful 
 lamentations over the downfall of their republic. It was a 
 scene on which the ‘‘ melancholy Jacques” might have moral- 
 ized by the hour. 
 
 We now abandoned the place, leaving much honey in the 
 hollow of the tree. ‘‘It will all be cleared off by varmint,” 
 said one of the rangers. “What vermin?” asked I. “Oh, 
 bears, and skunks, and racoons, and ’possums. The bears is 
 the knowingest varmint for finding out a bee-tree in the world. 
 They’ll gnaw for days together at the trunk till they make a 
 hole big enough to get in their paws, and then they’ll haul out 
 honey, bees and all.” 
 
 AMUSEMENTS IN THE CAMP. — CONSULTATIONS. — HUNTERS’ PARE 
 AND FEASTING.— EVENING SCENES. — CAMP MELODY.— THE PATE 
 OP AN AMATEUR OWL. 
 
 On returning to the camp, we found it a scene of the gre£ 
 est hilarity. Some of the rangers were shooting at a mar 
 others were leaping, wrestling, and playing at prison bars. 
 They were mostly young men, on their first expedition, in 
 high health and vigor, and buoyant with anticipations ; and I 
 can conceive nothing more likely to set the youthful blood 
 into a flow, than a wild wood hfe of the kind, and the range of 
 a magnificent wilderness, abounding with game, and fruitful 
 of adventure. We send our youth abroad to grow luxurious 
 and effeminate in Europe; it appears to me, that a previous 
 tour on the prairies would be more likely to produce that 
 manliness, simplicity, and self-dependence, most in unison 
 with our political institutions. 
 
 While the young men were engaged in these boisterous 
 amusements, a graver set, composed of the Captain, the 
 Doctor, and other sages and leaders of the camp, were seated 
 or stretched out on the grass, round a frontier map, holding 
 a consultation about our position, and the course we were to 
 pursue. 
 
 Our plan was to cross the Arkansas just above where the 
 Bed Fork falls into it, then to keep westerly, until we should 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
34 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 pass through a grand belt of open forest, called the Cross 
 Timber, which ranges nearly north and south from the 
 Arkansas to Red River; after which, we were to keep a 
 southerly course toward the latter river. 
 
 Our half-breed, Beatte, being an experienced Osage hunter, 
 was called into the consultation. “Have you ever hunted in 
 this direction?” said the Captain. “Yes,” was the laconic 
 reply. 
 
 “Perhaps, then, you can tell us in which direction lies the 
 Red Fork ?” 
 
 “If you keep along yonder, by the edge of the prairie, you 
 will come to a bald hill, with a pile of stones upon it.” 
 
 “I have noticed that hill as I was hunting,” said the Cap 
 tain. 
 
 “Well! those stones were setup by the Osages as a land^ 
 mark: from that spot you may have a sight of the Red 
 Fork.” 
 
 “In that case,” cried the Captain, “we shall reach the Red 
 Fork to-morrow; then cross the Arkansas above it, into the 
 Pawnee country, and then in two days we shall crack buffalo 
 bones 1” 
 
 The idea of arriving at the adventurous hunting grounds of 
 the Pawnees, and of coming upon the traces of the buffaloes, 
 made every eye sparkle with animation. Our further con- 
 versation was interrupted by the sharp report of a rifle at no 
 great distance from the camp. 
 
 “That’s old Ryan’s rifle,” exclaimed the Captain; “there’s 
 a buck down. I’ll warrant !” . Nor was he mistaken; for, before 
 long, the veteran made his appearance, calling upon one of the 
 younger rangers to return with him, and aid in bringing home 
 the carcass. 
 
 The surrounding country, in fact, abounded with game, so 
 that the camp was overstocked with provisions, and, as no less 
 than twenty bee-trees had been cut down in the vicinity, every 
 one revelled in luxury. With the wasteful prodigality of hun- 
 ters, there was a continual feasting, and scarce any one put by 
 provision for the morrow. The cooking was conducted in 
 hunter’s style: the meat was stuck upon tapering spits of 
 dogwood, which were thrust perpendicularly into the ground, 
 so as to sustain the joint before the fire, where it was roasted 
 or broiled with all its juices retained in it in a manner that 
 would have tickled the palate of the most experienced gour- 
 mand. As much could not be said in favor of the bread. It 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 35 
 
 was little more than a paste made of flour and water, and fried 
 like fritters, in lard ; though some adopted a ruder style, twist- 
 ing it round the ends of sticlis, and thus roasting it before the 
 fire. In either way, I have found it extremely palatable on 
 the prairies. No one knows the true relish of food until he has 
 a hunter’s appetite. 
 
 Before sunset, we were summoned by little Tonish to a 
 sumptuous repast. Blankets had been spread on the ground 
 near to the fire, upon which we took our seats. A large dish, 
 or howl, made from the root of a maple tree, and which we 
 had purchased at the Indian village, was placed on the ground 
 before us, and into it were emptied the contents of one of the 
 camp kettles, consisting of a wild turkey hashed, together with 
 slices of bacon and lumps of dough. Beside ^ was placed 
 another bowl of similar ware, containing an ample supply of 
 fritters. After we had discussed the hash, two wooden spits, 
 on which the ribs of a fat buck were broiling before the fire, 
 were removed and planted in the ground before us, with a 
 triumphant air, by little Tonish. Having no dishes, we had to 
 proceed in hunter’s style, cutting off strips and slices with our 
 hunting-knives, and dipping them in salt and pepper. To do 
 justice to Tonish’s cookery, however, and to the keen sauce of 
 the prairies, never have I tasted venison so delicious. With 
 all this, our beverage was coffee, boiled in a camp kettle, 
 sweetened with brown sugar, and drunk out of tin cups : and 
 such was the style of our banqueting throughout this expedi- 
 tion, whenever provisions were plenty, and as long as flour 
 and coffee and sugar held out. 
 
 As the twilight thickened into night, the sentinels were 
 marched forth to their stations around the camp; an indis- 
 pensable precaution in a country infested by Indians. The 
 encampment now presented a picturesque appearance. Camp 
 fires were blazing and smouldering here and there among the 
 trees, with groups of rangers round them; some seated ^r 
 lying on the ground, others standing in the ruddy glare of the 
 flames, or in shadowy relief. At some of the fires there \/as 
 much boisterous mirth, where peals of laughter were mingled 
 ^vith loud ribald jokes and uncouth exclamations; for the 
 troop was evidently a raw, undisciplined band, levied among 
 the wild youngsters of the frontier, who had enlisted, some for 
 the sake of roving adventure, and some for the purpose of 
 getting a knowledge of the country. Many of them were the 
 neighbors of their officers, and accustomed to regard them 
 
36 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 with the familiarity of equals and companions. None of them 
 had any idea of the restraint and decorum of a camp, or 
 ambition to acquire a name for exactness in a profession in 
 which they had no intention of continuing. 
 
 While this boisterous merriment prevailed at some of the 
 fires, there suddenly rose a strain of nasal melody from 
 another, at which a choir of “vocalists” were uniting their 
 voices in a most lugubrious psalm tune. This was led by one 
 of the lieutenants ; a tall, spare man, who we were informed 
 had officiated as schoolmaster, singing-master, and occasionally 
 as Methodist preacher, in one of the villages of the frontier. 
 The chant rose solemnly and sadly in the night air, and 
 reminded me of the description of similar canticles in the 
 camps of the Covenanters; and, indeed, the strange medley of 
 figures and faces and uncouth garbs, congregated together in 
 our troop, would not have disgraced the banners of Praise-God 
 Barebones. 
 
 In one of the intervals of this nasal psalmody, an amateur 
 owl, as if in competition, began his dreary hooting. Immedi- 
 ately there was a cry throughout the camp of “Charley’s owl! 
 Charley’s owl 1” It seems this “obscure bird ” had visited the 
 camp every night, and had been fired at by one of the senti- 
 nels, a half-witted lad, named Charley; who, on being called 
 up for firing when on duty, excused himself by saying, that he 
 understood owls made uncommonly good soup. 
 
 One of the young rangers mimicked the cry of this bird of 
 wisdom, who, with a simplicity little consonant with his 
 character, came hovering within sight, and alighted on the 
 naked branch of a tree, lit up by the blaze of our fire. The 
 young Count immediately seized his fowhng-piece, took fatal 
 aim, and in a twinkling the poor bird of ill omen came fiutter- 
 ing to the ground. Charley was now called upon to make and 
 eat his dish of owl-soup, but declined, as he had not shot the 
 bird. 
 
 In the course of the evening, I paid a visit to the Captain’s 
 fire. It was composed of huge trunks of trees, and of suffi- 
 cient magnitude to roast a buffalo whole. Here were a num- 
 ber of the prime hunters and leaders of the camp, some sitting, 
 some standing, and others lying on skins or blankets before 
 the fire, telling old frontier stories about hunting and Indian 
 warfare. 
 
 As the night advanced, we perceived above the trees to the 
 west, a ruddy glow fiushing up the sky. 
 
A TOUR ON Tim VR AIRIES, 
 
 37 
 
 That must be a prairie set on fire by the Osage hunters,” 
 said the Captain. 
 
 “It is at the Red Fork,” said Beatte, regarding the sky. 
 “ It seems but three miles distant, yet it perhaps is twenty.” 
 About half past eight o’clock, a beautiful pale light gradu- 
 ally sprang up in the east, a precursor of the rising moon. 
 Drawing off from the Captain’s lodge, I now prepared for the 
 night’s repose. I had determined to abandon the shelter of 
 the tent, and henceforth to bivouac like the rangers. A bear- 
 skin spread at the foot of a tree was my bed, with a pair of 
 saddle-bags for a pillow. Wrapping myself in blankets, I 
 stretched myseK on this hunter’s couch, and soon fell into a 
 sound and sweet sleep, from which I did not awake imtil the 
 bugle sounded at daybreak. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 BREAKING UP OF THE ENCAMPMENT.— PICTURESQUE MARCH.— 
 GAME.— CAMP SCENES.— TRIUMPH OP A YOUNG HUNTER.— ILL 
 SUCCESS OF AN OLD HUNTER.— FOUL MURDER OF A POLECAT. 
 
 October 14th.— At the signal note of the bugle, the sentinels 
 and patrols marched in from their stations around the camp 
 and were dismissed. The rangers were roused from their 
 night’s repose, and soon a bustling scene took place. While 
 some cut wood, made fires, and prepared the morning’s meal, 
 others struck their foul-weather shelters of blankets, and 
 made every preparation for departure; while others dashed 
 about, through brush and brake, catching the horses and lead- 
 ing or driving them into camp. 
 
 During all this bustle the forest rang with whoops, and 
 shouts, and peals of laughter; when all had breakfasted, 
 packed up their effects and camp equipage, and loaded the 
 pack-horses, the bugle sounded to saddle and mount. By 
 eight o’clock the whole troop set off in a long straggling line, 
 with whoop and halloo, intermingled with many an oath at 
 the loitering pack-horses, and in a little while the forest, which 
 for several days had been the scene of such unwonted bustle 
 and uproar, relapsed into its primeval solitude and silence. 
 
 It was a bright sunny morning, with a pure transparent 
 atmosphere that seemed to bathe the very heart with glad' 
 
38 
 
 A TOUR ON TEE FR AIRIES. 
 
 ness. Our march continued parallel to the Arkansas, through 
 a rich and varied country; sometimes we had to break our 
 way through alluvial bottoms matted with redundant vegeta- 
 tion, where the gigantic trees were entangled with grap-vines, 
 hanging like cordage from their branches; sometimes we 
 coasted along sluggish brooks, whose feebly trickling current 
 just served to link together a succession of glassy pools, im- 
 bedded like mirrors in the quiet bosom of the forest, reflecting 
 its autumnal foliage, and patches of the clear blue sky. Some- 
 tunes we scrambled up broken and rocky hills, from the sum- 
 mits of which we had wide views stretching on one side over 
 distant prairies diversified by groves and forests, and on the 
 other ranging along a line of blue and shadowy hills beyond 
 the waters of the Arkansas. 
 
 The appearance of our troop was suited to the country; 
 stretching along in a line of upward of half a mile in length, 
 Yvdnding among brakes and bushes, and up and down in the 
 defiles of the hills, the men in every kind of uncouth garb, 
 with long rifles on their shoulders, and mounted on horses of 
 every color. The pack-horses, too, would incessantly wander 
 from the line of march, to crop the surrounding herbage, and 
 were banged and beaten back by Tonish and his half-breed 
 compeers, with volleys of mongrel oaths. Every now and 
 then the notes of the bugle, from the head of the column, 
 would echo through the Avoodlands and along the hollow glens, 
 sunimoning up stragglers, and announcing the line of march. 
 The whole scene reminded me of the description given of bands 
 of buccaneers penetrating the wilds of South America, on their 
 plundering expeditions against the Spanish settlements. 
 
 At one time we passed through a luxuriant bottom or mea- 
 dow bordered by thickets, where the tall grass was pressed 
 down into numerous ‘‘deer beds,” where those animals had 
 couched the preceding night. Some oak trees also bore signs 
 of having been clambered by bears, in quest of acorns, the 
 marks of their claws being visible in the bark. 
 
 As we opened a glade of this sheltered meadow we beheld 
 several deer bounding away in wild affright, until, having 
 gained some distance, they would stop and gaze back, with 
 the curiosity common to tliis animal, at the strange intruders 
 into their solitudes. There was immediately a sharp report 
 of rifles in every direction, from the young huntsmen of the 
 troop, but they were too eager to aim surely, and the deer, un- 
 harmed, bounded away into the depths of the forest. 
 
A TOUR OK mil] PRAIRIES. 
 
 39 
 
 In the coui’se of our march we struck the Arkansas, but 
 found ourselves still below the Eed Fork, and, as the river 
 made deep bends, we again left its banks and continued 
 through the woods until nearly eight o’clock, when we en- 
 camped in a beautiful basin bordered by a fine stream, and 
 shaded by clumps of lofty oaks. 
 
 The horses were now hobbled, that is to say, their fore legs 
 were fettered with cords or leathern straps, so as to impede 
 their movements, and prevent their wandering from the camp. 
 They were then turned loose to graze. A number of rangers, 
 prime hunters, started off in different directions in search of 
 game. There (vas no whooping nor laughing about the camp 
 as in the morning; all were either busy about the fires pre- 
 paring the evening’s repast, or reposing upon the grass. Shots 
 were soon heard in various directions. After a time a hunts- 
 man rode into the camp with the carcass of a fine buck hang- 
 ing across his horse. Shortly afterward came in a couple of 
 stripling hunters on foot, one of whom bore on his shoulders 
 the body of a doe. He was evidently proud of his spoil, being 
 probably one of his first achievements, though he and his com- 
 panion were much bantered by their comrades, as youn^ be- 
 ginners who hunted in partnership. 
 
 Just as the night set in, there was a great shouting at one 
 end of the camp, and immediately afterward a body of young 
 rangers came parading round the various fires, bearing one 
 of their comrades in triumph on their shoulders. He had shot 
 an elk for the first time in his life, and it was the first animal 
 of the kind that had been killed on this expedition. The young 
 huntsman, whose name was M’Lellan, was the hero of the 
 camp for the night, and was the “father of the feast” into 
 the bargain; for portions of his elk were seen roasting at every 
 fire. 
 
 The other hunters returned without success. The Captain 
 had observed the tracks of a buffalo, which must have passed 
 within a few days, and had tracked a bear for some distance 
 until the foot-prints had disappeared. He had seen an elk, 
 too, on the banks of the Arkansas, which walked out on a 
 sand-bar of the river, but before he could steal round through 
 the bushes to get a shot, it had re-entered the woods. 
 
 Our own hunter, Beatte, returned silent and sulky, from an 
 tmsuccessful hunt. As yet he had brought us in nothing, and 
 we had depended for our supplies of venison upon the Cap- 
 tain’s mess. Beatte was evidently mortified, for be looked 
 
40 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PR AIRIER. 
 
 down 'vvith contempt upon the rangers, as raw and inexperi* 
 "enced woodsmen, but little skilled in hunting; they, on the 
 other hand, regarded Beatte with no very complacent eye, as 
 one ot an evil breed, and always spoke of him as ‘‘the Im 
 dian.” 
 
 Oun httle Frenchman, Tonish, also, by his incessant boast- 
 ing, and chattering, and gasconading, in his balderdashed dia- 
 lect, had drawn upon himself the ridicule of many of the wags 
 of the troop, who amused themselves at his expense in a kind 
 of raillery by no means remarkable for its dehcacy ; but the 
 httle varlet was so completely fortified by vanity and self-con- 
 ceit, that he was invulnerable to every joke. I must confess, 
 however, that I felt a httle mortified at the soiTy figure om 
 retainers were making among these moss-troopers-of the fron- 
 tier. Even our very equipments came in for a share of unpopu- 
 larity, and I heard many sneers at the double-barrehed guns 
 with which we were provided against smaher game ; the lads 
 of the West holding “ shot-guns, ” as they call them, in gi’eat 
 contempt, thinking grouse, partndges, and even wild turkeys 
 as beneath their serious attention, and the rifle the only fire- 
 arm worthy of a hunter. 
 
 I was awakened befo;*e daybreak the next morning, by the 
 mournful howling of a wolf, who was skulking about the pur- 
 lieus of the camp, attracted by the scent of venison. Scarcely 
 had the first gray streak of dawn appeared, when a youngster 
 at one of the distant lodges, shaking off his sleep, crowed in 
 imitation of a cock, with a loud clear note and prolonged 
 cadence, that would have done credit to the most veteran 
 chanticleer. He was immediately answered from another 
 quarter, as if from a rival rooster. The chant was echoed 
 from lodge to lodge, and followed by the cackhng of hens, 
 quacking of ducks, gabbling of turkeys, and grunting of 
 svdne, until we seemed to have been transported into the 
 midst of a farmyard, with all its inmates in fuU conceii; 
 around us. 
 
 After riding a short distance this morning, we came upon a 
 well-worn Indian track, and following it, scrambled to the 
 summit of a hill, whence we had a wide prospect over a coun- 
 try divei'sified by rocky ridges and waving lines of upland, 
 and enriched by groves and clumps of trees of varied tuft and 
 foliage. At a distance to the west, to our great satisfaction, 
 we beheld the Red Fork rolling its ruddy current to the Ar- 
 kansas, and found that we were above the point of jimction, 
 
A TOUR OuS TUK PRAIRIES, 
 
 41 
 
 We now descended and pushed forward, with much difficulty, 
 through the rich alluvial bottom that borders the Arkansas. 
 Here the trees were interwoven with grape-vines, forming a 
 kind of cordage, from trunk to tnink and hmb to limb ; there 
 was a thick undergrowth, also, of hush and bramble, and such 
 an abundance of hops, fit for gathering, that it was difficult for 
 our horses to force their way through. 
 
 The soil was imprinted in many places with the tracks of 
 ftjcr, and the claws of bears were to be traced on various trees. 
 -^ v ery one was on the look-out in the hope of starting some 
 game, when suddenly there was a bustle and a clamor in a 
 distant paii; of the line. A bear! a bear! was the cry. We 
 all pressed forward to be present at the spoi4, when to my 
 infinite, though whimsical chagrin, I found it to be our two 
 worthies, Beatte and Tonish, perpetrating a foul murder on a 
 polecat, or skunk ! The animal had ensconced itself beneath 
 the trunk of a fallen tree, whence it kept up a vigorous defence 
 in its peculiar style, until the surrounding forest was in a high 
 state of fragrance. 
 
 Gibes and jokes now broke out on all sides at the expense of 
 the Indian hunter, and he was advised to wear the scalp of the 
 skunk as the only trophy of his prowess. When they found, 
 however, that he and Tonish were absolutely bent upon bearing 
 off the carcass as a peculiar dainty, there was a universal 
 expression of disgust ; and they were regarded as httle better 
 than cannibals. 
 
 Mortified at this ignominious debut of our two hunters, I 
 insisted upon their abandoning their prize and resuming their 
 march. Beatte complied with a dogged, discontented air, and 
 lagged behind muttering to himself. Tonish, however, with 
 his usual buoyancy, consoled himself by vociferous eulogies on 
 the richness and dehcacy of a roasted polecat, which he swore 
 was considered the daintiest of dishes by all experienced Indian 
 gourmands. It was with difficulty I could silence liis loqua- 
 city by repeated and peremptory commands. A Frenchman’s 
 vivacity, however, if repressed in one way, will break out in 
 another, and Tonish now eased off his spleen by bestowing 
 volleys of oaths and dry blows on the pack-horses. I was 
 likely to be no gainer in the end, by my opposition to the 
 humors of these varlets, for after a time, Beatte, who had 
 lagged behind, rode up to the head oi the line to resume his 
 station as a guide, and I had the vexation to see the carcass of 
 Ms prize, stripped of its skin, and looking like a fat suckmg- 
 
42 
 
 A TOUR OJV THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 pig, dangling beliind his saddle. I made a solemn vow, how 
 ever, in secret, that our fire should not be disgraced by the 
 cooking of that polecat. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE CROSSING OF THE ARKANSAS. 
 
 We had now arrived at the river, about a quarter of a mile 
 above the jxmction of the Red Fork ; but the banks were steep 
 and crumbhng, and the current was deep and rapid. It was 
 impossible, therefore, to cross at this place ; and we resumed 
 our painful course through the forest, dispatching Beatte ahead, 
 in search of a fording place. We had proceeded about a mile 
 farther, when he rejoined us, bringing intelligence of a place 
 hard by, where the river, for a great part of its breadth, was 
 rendered fordable by sand-bars, and the remainder might easily 
 be swam by the horses. 
 
 Here, then, we made a halt. Some of the rangers set to 
 work vigorously with their axes, felling trees on the edge of 
 the river, wherewith to form rafts for the transportation of 
 their baggage and camp equipage. Others patrolled the banks 
 of the river farther up, in hopes of finding a better fording 
 place ; being unwilling to risk their horses in the deep channel. 
 
 It was now that our worthies, Beatte and Tonish, had an 
 opportunity of displaying their Indian adroitness and resource. 
 At the Osage village which we had passed a day or two before, 
 they had procured a dry buffalo skin. This was now produced ; 
 cords were passed through a number of small eyelet-holes with 
 which it was bordered, and it was drawn up, until it formed a 
 kind of deep trough. Sticks were then placed athwart it on 
 the inside, to keep it in shape ; our camp equipage and a part 
 of our baggage were placed within, and the singular bark was 
 carried down the bank and set afioat. A cord was attached to 
 the prow, which Beatte took between his teeth, and throwing 
 himself into the water, went ahead, towing the bark after him ; 
 while Tonish followed behind, to keep it steady and to propel 
 it. Part of the way they had foothold, and were enabled to 
 v/ade, but in the main current they were obliged to swim. The 
 Y/hole way, they whooped and yelled in the Indian style, imtil 
 they landed safely on the opposite shore. 
 
A TOUR OiY THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 43 
 
 The Commissioner and myself were so well pleased with this 
 Indian mode of ferriage, that we determined to trust ourselves 
 in the buffalo hide. Our companions, the Count and Mr. L., 
 had proceeded with the horses, along the river bank, in search 
 of a ford which some of the rangers had discovered, about a 
 mile and a half distant. While we were waiting for the return 
 of our ferryman, I happened to cast my eyes upon a heap of 
 luggage under a bush, and descried the sleek carcass of the 
 polecat, snugly trussed up, and ready for roasting before the 
 evening fire. I could not resist the temptation to plump it into 
 the river, when it sunk to the bottom like a lump of lead ; and 
 thus our lodge was relieved from the bad odor which this savory 
 viand had threatened to bring upon it. 
 
 Our men having recrossed with their cockle-shell bark, it 
 was drawn on shore, half filled with saddles, saddlebags, and 
 other luggage, amounting to a hundred weight; and being 
 again placed in the water, I was invited to take my seat. It 
 appeared to me pretty much like the embarkation of the wise 
 men of Gotham, who went to sea in a bowl : I stepped in, how- 
 ever, without hesitation, though as cautiously as possible, and 
 sat down on the top of the luggage, the margin of the hide 
 sinking to within a hand’s breadth of the water’s edge. Eifies, 
 fowling-pieces, and other articles of small bulk, were then 
 handed in, until I protested against receiving any more freight. 
 We then launched forth upon the stream, the bark being towed 
 as before. 
 
 It was with a sensation half serious, half comic, that I found 
 myself thus afloat, on the skin of a buffalo, in the midst of a 
 wild river, surrounded by wilderness, and towed along by a 
 half savage, whooping and yelling hke a devil incarnate. To 
 please the vanity of little Tonish, I discharged the double- 
 barrelled gun, to the right and left, when in the centre of the 
 stream. The report echoed along the woody shores, and was 
 answered by shouts from some of the rangers, to the great 
 exultation of the little Frenchman, who took to himself the 
 whole glory of this Indian mode of navigation. 
 
 Our voyage was accomplished happily; the Commissioner 
 was ferried across with equal success, and all our effects were 
 brought over in the same manner. Nothing could equal the 
 vain-glorious vaporing of little Tonish, as he strutted about the 
 shore, and exulted in his superior skill and knowledge, to the 
 rangers. Beatte, however, kept his proud, saturnine look, 
 without a smile. He had a vast contempt for the ignorance of 
 
44 
 
 JL TOUR ON' THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 the rangers, and felt that he had been undervalued by them. 
 His only observation was, “Deynow see de Indian good for 
 someting, anyhow!” 
 
 The broad, sandy shore whei’c we had landed, was intersec- 
 ted by innumerable tracks of elk, deer, bears, racoons, turkeys, 
 and water-fowl. The river scenery at this place was beauti- 
 fully diversified, presenting long, shining reaches, bordered 
 by willows and cottonwood trees; rich bottoms, with lofty 
 forests ; among which towered enormous plane trees, and the 
 distance was closed in by high embowered promontories. The 
 foliage had a yellow autumnal tint, which gave to the sunny 
 landscape the golden tone of one of the landscapes of Claude 
 Lorraine. There was animation given to the scene, by a raft 
 of logs and bi’anches, on which the Captain and his prime com- 
 panion, the Doctor, were ferrying their effects across the 
 stream ; and by a long line of rangers on horseback, fording 
 the river obliquely, along a series of sand-bars, about a mile 
 and a half distant. 
 
 CHAPTER XHI. 
 
 The Camp of the Glen. 
 
 CAMP GOSSIP. — PAV/NEES AND THEIR HABITS. —A HUNTER’S AD- 
 VENTURE.— HORSES FOUND, AND MEN LOST. 
 
 Being joined by the Captain and some of the rangers, we 
 struck into the woods for about half a mile, and then entered a 
 wild, rocky dell, bordered by two lofty ridges of limestone, 
 which narrowed as we advanced, until they met and united; 
 making almost an angle. Here a fine spring of water rose 
 among the rocks, and fed a silver rill that ran the whole 
 length of the dell, freshening the grass with which it was 
 carpeted. 
 
 In this rocky nook we encamped, among tall trees. The 
 rangers gradually joined us, straggling through the forest 
 singly or in groups ; some on horseback, some on foot, driving 
 their horses before them, heavily laden with baggage, some 
 dripping wet, having fallen into the river ; for they had ex- 
 perienced much fatigue and trouble from the length of the 
 ford, and the depth and rapidity of the stream. They looked 
 
A TOUR OJSr THE PRAHUES. 
 
 4H 
 
 mot unlike banditti returning with their plunder, and the wild 
 dell was a retreat worthy to receive them. The effect was 
 heightened after dark, when the light of the fires was cast upon 
 rugged looking groups of men and horses ; with baggage tum- 
 bled in heaps, rifles piled against the trees, and saddles, 
 bridles, and powder-horns hanging about their trunks. 
 
 At the encampment we were joined by the young Count and 
 his companion, and the young half-breed, Antoine, who had 
 all passed successfully by the ford. To my annoyance, how- 
 ever, I discovered that both of my horses were missing. I had 
 supposed them in the charge of Antoine ; but he, with charac- 
 teristic carelessness, had paid no heed to them, and they had 
 probably wandered from the line on the opposite side of the 
 river. It was arranged that Beatte and Antoine should recross 
 the river at an early hour of the morning, in search of them. 
 
 A fat buck, and a number of wild turkeys being brought 
 into the camp, we managed, with the addition of a cup of 
 coffee, to make a comfortable supper ; after which I repaired 
 to the Captain’s lodge, which was a kind of council fire and 
 gossiping place for the veterans of the camp. 
 
 As we were conversing together, we observed, as on former 
 nights, a dusky, red glow in the west, above the summits of 
 the surrounding cliffs. It was again attributed to Indian fires 
 on the prairies ; and supposed to be on the western side of the 
 Arkansas. If so, it was thought they must be made by some 
 party of Pawnees, as the Osage hunters seldom ventured in 
 that quarter. Our half-breeds, however, pronounced them 
 Osage fires; and that they were on the opposite side of the 
 Arkansas. 
 
 The conversation now turned upon the Pawnees, into whose 
 hunting grounds we were about entering. There is always 
 some wild untamed tribe of Indians, who form, for a time, the 
 terror of a frontier, and about whom all kinds of fearful 
 stories are told. Such, at present, was the case with the Paw- 
 nees, who rove the regions between the Arkansas and the Eed 
 Eiver, and the prairies of Texas. They were represented as 
 admirable horsemen, and always on horseback; mounted on 
 fleet and hardy steeds, the wild race of the prairies. With 
 these they roam the great plains that extend about the Arkan- 
 sas, the Eed Eiver, and through Texas, to the Eocky Moun- 
 tains; sometimes engaged in hunting the deer and buffalo, 
 sometimes in warlike and predatory expeditions ; for, like their 
 counterparts, the sons of Ishmael, their hand is against every 
 
46 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 one, and every one’s hand against them. Some of them have 
 no fixed habitation, but dwell in tents of skin, easily packed 
 up and transported, so that they are here to-day, and away, no 
 one knows where, to-morrow. 
 
 One of the veteran hunters gave several anecdotes of their 
 mode of fighting. Luckless, according to his account, is the 
 band of weary traders or hunters descried by them, in the 
 midst of a prairie. Sometimes, they will steal upon them by 
 stratagem, hanging with one leg over the saddle, and their 
 bodies concealed ; so that their troop at a distance has the ap- 
 pearance of a gang of wild horses. When they have thus 
 gained sufiiciently upon the enemy, they will suddenly raise 
 themselves in their saddles, and come like a rushing blast, all 
 fiuttering with feathers, shaking their mantles, brandishing 
 their weapons, and making hideous yells. In this way, they 
 seek to strike a panic into the horses, and put them to the 
 scamper, when they will pursue and carry them off in tri- 
 umph. 
 
 The best mode of defence, according to this vetern woods- 
 man, is to get into the covert of some wood, or thicket ; or if 
 there be none at hand, to dismount, tie the horses firmly head 
 to head in a circle, so that they cannot break away and scatter, 
 and resort to the shelter of a ravine, or make a hollow in the 
 sand, where they may be screened from the shafts of the Paw- 
 nees. The latter chiefly use the bow and arrow, and are dex- 
 terous archers; circling round and round their enemy, and 
 launching their arrows when at full speed. They are chiefly 
 formidable on the prairies, where they have free career foi 
 their horses, and no trees to turn aside their arrows. They 
 will rarely follow a flying enemy into the forest. 
 
 Several anecdotes, also, were given, of the secrecy and cau 
 tion with which they will follow, and hang about the camp ol 
 an enemy, seeking a favorable moment for plunder or attack. 
 
 ‘‘We must now begin to keep a sharp look-out,” said the 
 Captain. “I must issue written orders, that no man shall 
 hunt without leave, or fire off a gun, on pain of riding a wooden 
 horse with a sharp back. I have a wild crew of young fellows, 
 unaccustomed to frontier service. It will be difiicult to teach 
 them caution. We are now in the land of a silent, watchful, 
 crafty people, who, when we least suspect it, may be around 
 us, spying out aU our movements, and ready to pounce upon all 
 stragglers.” 
 
 “How wiU you be able to keep your men from firing, if they 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 47 
 
 see game while strolling round the camp?” asked one of the 
 rangers. 
 
 “They must not take their guns with them unless they are 
 on duty, or have permission.” 
 
 “Ah, Captain!” cried the ranger, “that will never do for 
 me. Where I go, my rifle goes. I never hke to leave it be- 
 hind ; it’s like a part of myself. There’s no one will take such 
 care of it as I, and there’s nothing will take such care of me as 
 my rifle.” 
 
 “ There’s truth in all that,” said the Captain, touched by a 
 true hunter’s sympathy. “I’ve had my rifle pretty nigh as 
 long as I have had my wife, and a faithful friend it has been 
 to me.” 
 
 Here the Doctor, who is as keen a hunter as the Captain, 
 joined in the conversation: “A neighbor of mine says, next to 
 my rifle, I’d as leave lend you my wife.” 
 
 “There’s few,” observed the Captain, “that take care of 
 their rifles as they ought to be taken care of.” 
 
 “ Or of their wives either,” replied the Doctor, with a wink. 
 
 “ That’s a fact,” rejoined the Captain. 
 
 Word was now brought that a party of four rangers, headed 
 by “Old Ryan,” were missing. They had separated from the 
 main body, on the opposite side of the river, when searching 
 for a ford, and had straggled off, nobody knew whither. 
 Many conjectures were made about them, and some apprehen- 
 sions expressed for their safety. 
 
 “I should send to look after them,” said the Captain, “but 
 old Ryan is with them, and he knows how to take care of him- 
 self and of them too. If it were not for him, I would not give 
 much for the rest ; but he is as much at home in the woods or 
 on a prairie as he would be in his own farmyard. He’s never 
 lost, wherever he is. There’s a good gang of them to stand by 
 one another; four to watch and one to take care of the fire.” 
 
 “ It’s a dismal thing to get lost at night in a strange and wild 
 country,” said one of the younger rangers. 
 
 “ Not if you have one or two in company,” said an elder one. 
 “For my part, I could feel as cheerful in this hollow as in my 
 own home, if I had but one comrade to take turns to watch 
 and keep the fire going. I could lie here for hours, and gaze 
 up to that blazing star there, that seems to look down into the 
 camp as if it were keeping guard over it.” 
 
 “Aye, the stars are a kind of company to one, when you 
 have to keep watch alone. That’s a cheerful star, too, some- 
 
48 
 
 A TOUR OJT THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 how; that’s the evening star, the planet Venus they call it, I 
 think.” 
 
 ‘‘ If that’s the planet Venus,” said one of the council, who, I 
 believe, was the psalm-singing schoolmaster, ‘‘it bodes us no 
 good ; for I recollect reading in some book that the Pawnees 
 worship that star, and sacrifice their prisoners to it. So I 
 should not feel the better for the sight of that star in this part 
 of the country.” 
 
 “ WeU,” said the sergeant, a thorough-bred woodsman, “star 
 or no star, I have passed many a night alone in a wilder place 
 than this, and slept sound too. I’ll warrant you. Once, how- 
 ever, I had rather an uneasy time of it. I was belated in pass- 
 ing through a tract of wood, near the Tombigbee Eiver; so I 
 struck a light, made a fire, and turned my horse loose, wliile 
 I stretched myself to sleep. By and by, I heard the wolves 
 howl. My horse came crowding near me for protection, for he 
 was terribly frightened. I drove him off, but he returned, and 
 drew nearer and nearer, and stood looking at me and at the 
 fire, and dozing, and nodding, and tottering on his fore feet, 
 for he was powerful tired. After a while, I heard a strange 
 dismal cry. I thought at first it might be an owl. I heard it 
 again, and then I knew it was not an owl, but must be a pan- 
 ther. I felt rather awkward, for I had no weapon but a 
 double-bladed penknife. I however prepared for defence in 
 the best way I could, and piled up small brands from the fire, 
 to pepper him with, should he come nigh. The comiiany of 
 my horse now seemed a comfort to me ; the poor creature laid 
 down beside me and soon fell asleep, being so tired. I kept 
 watch, and nodded and dozed, and started awake, and looked 
 round, expecting to see the glO;ring eyes of the panther close 
 upon me ; but somehow or other, fatigue got the better of me, 
 and I feU asleep outright. In the morning I found the tracks 
 of a panther within sixty paces. They were as large as my 
 two fists. He had evidently been walking backward and for- 
 ward, trying to make up his mind to attack me ; but luckily, 
 he had not courage.” 
 
 October 16th. — I awoke before daylight. The moon was 
 shining feebly down into the glen, from among light drifting 
 clouds ; the camp fires were nearly burnt out, and the men 
 lying about them, wrapped in blankets. With the first streak 
 of day, our huntsman, Beatte, with Antoine, the young half- 
 breed, set off to recross the river, in search of the stray horses, 
 in company with several rangers who had left their rifles on 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 49 
 
 the opposite shore. As the ford was deep, and they were 
 obliged to cross in a diagonal line, against a rapid current, 
 they had to be mounted on the tallest and strongest horses. 
 
 By eight o’clock, Beatte returned. He had found the horses, 
 but had lost Antoine. The latter, he said, was a boy, a green- 
 horn, that knew nothing of the woods. He had wandered out 
 of sight of him, and got lost. JEowever, there were plenty 
 more for him to fall in company with, as some of the rangers 
 had gone astray also, and old Ryan and his party had not 
 returned. 
 
 We waited until the morning was somewhat advanced, in 
 hopes of being rejoined by the stragglers, but they did not 
 make their appearance. The Captain observed, that the 
 Indians on the opposite side of the river, were aU well dis- 
 posed to the whites ; so that no serious apprehensions need be 
 entertained for the safety of the missing. The greatest danger 
 was, that their horses might be stolen in the night by strag- 
 gling Osages. He determined, therefore, to proceed, leaving a 
 rear guard in the camp, to await their arrival. 
 
 I sat on a rock that overhung the spring at the upper part of 
 the dell, and amused myself by watching the changing scene 
 before me. First, the preparations for departure. Horses 
 driven in from the purlieus of the camp ; rangers riding about 
 among rocks and bushes in quest of others that had strayed to 
 a distance ; the bustle of packing up camp equipage, and the 
 clamor after kettles and frying-pans borrowed by one mess 
 from another, mixed up with oaths and exclamations at restive 
 horses, or others that had wandered away to graze after being 
 packed, among which the voice of our little Frenchman, 
 Tonish,^ was particularly to be distinguished. 
 
 The bugle sounded the signal to mount and march. The 
 troop filed off in irregular line down the glen, and through the’ 
 open forest, winding and gradually disappearing among the 
 trees, though the clamor of voices and the notes of the bugle 
 could be heard for some time afterward. The rear-guard 
 remained under the trees in the lower part of the dell, some on 
 horseback, with their rifles on their shoulders ; others seated 
 by the Are or lying on the ground, gossiping in a low, lazy 
 tone of voice, their horses unsaddled, standing and dozing 
 around, while one of the rangers, profiting by this interval of 
 leizure, was shaving himself before a pocket mirror stuck 
 against the trunk of a tree. 
 
 The clamor of voices and the notes of the bugle at length 
 
60 
 
 A TOUR OJT THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 died away, and the glen relapsed into quiet and silence, broken 
 occasionally by the low murmuring tone of the group around 
 the fire, or the pensive whistle of some laggard among the 
 trees ; or the rustling of the yellow leaves, which the hghtest 
 breath of air brought down in wavering showers, a sign of the 
 departing glories of the year. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 DEER-SHOOTING.— LIFE ON THE PRAIRIES. — BEAUTIFUL ENCAMP- 
 MENT. — hunter’s luck. — ANECDOTES OF THE DELAWARES AND 
 THEIR SUPERSTITIONS. 
 
 Having passed through the skirt of woodland bordering the 
 river, we ascended the hills, taking a westerly course through 
 an undulating country of “oak openings,” where the eye 
 stretched over wide tracts of hill and dale, diversified by for- 
 ests, groves, and clumps of trees. As we were proceeding at a 
 slow pace, those who were at the head of the line descried 
 four deer grazing on a grassy slope about half a mile distant, / 
 They apparently had not perceived our approach, and con* 
 tinned to graze in perfect tranquillity. A young ranger ob* 
 tained permission from the Captain to go in pursuit of them, 
 and the troop halted in lengthened line, watching him in 
 silence. Walking his horse slowly and cautiously, he made a 
 circuit until a screen of wood intervened between him and the 
 deer. Dismounting then, he left his horse among the trees, ( 
 and creeping round a knoll, was hidden from our view. We ■ 
 now kept our eyes intently fixed on the deer, which continued 
 grazing, unconscious of their danger. Presently there was the \ 
 sh arp report of a rifle ; a fine buck made a convulsive bound | 
 and fell to the earth ; his companions scampered off. Immedi- 
 ately our whole line of march was broken ; there was a helter- 
 skelter galloping of the youngsters of the troop, eager to get a 
 shot at the fugitives ; and one of the most conspicuous person- 
 ages in the chase was our little Frenchman Tonish, on his 
 silver-gray ; having abandoned his pack-horses at the first sight 
 of the deer. It was some time before our scattered forces 
 could be recalled by the bugle, and our march resumed. 
 
 Two or three times in the course of the day we were inter- 
 rupted by hurry-scurry scenes of the kind. The young men 
 
A TOUR ON THE PR A HUES. 
 
 51 
 
 of the troop were full of excitement on entering an unexplored 
 country abounding in game, and they were too little accus- 
 tomed to discipline or restraint to he kept in order. No one, 
 however, was more unmanageable than Tonish. Hawing an 
 intense conceit of his skill as a hunter, and an irrepressible 
 passion for display, he was continually sallying forth, like an 
 ill-broken hound, whenever any game was started, and had as 
 often to be whipped back. 
 
 At length his curiosity got a salutary check. A fat doe 
 came bounding along in full view of the whole line. Tonish 
 dismounted, levelled his rifle, and had a fair shot. The doe 
 kept on. He sprang upon his horse, stood up on the saddle like 
 a posture-master, and continued gazing after the animal as if 
 certain to see it fall. The doe. however, kept on its way 
 rejoicing; a laugh broke out along the line, the little French- 
 man slipped quietly into his saddle, began to belabor and blas- 
 pheme the wandering pack-horses, as if they had been to blame, 
 and for some time we were relieved from his vaunting and 
 vaporing. 
 
 In one place of our march we came to the remains of an old 
 Indian encampment, on the banks of a fine stream, with the 
 moss-grown skulls of deer lying her^ and there about it. As 
 we were in the Pawnee country, it was supposed, of course, to 
 to have been a camp of those formidable rovers ; the Doctor, 
 however, after considering the shape and disposition of the 
 lodges, pronounced it the camp of some bold Delawares, who 
 had probably made a brief and dashing excursion into these 
 dangerous hunting grounds. 
 
 Having proceeded some distance farther, we observed a cou- 
 ple of figures on horseback, slowly moving parallel to us along 
 the edge of a naked hill about two miles distant ; and appar- 
 ently reconnoitring us. There was a halt, and much gazing 
 and conjecturing. Were they Indians? If Indians, were they 
 Pawnees? There is something exciting to the imagination and 
 stirring to the feelings, while traversing these hostile plains, in 
 seeing a horseman prowling along the horizon. It is like de- 
 scrying a sail at sea in time of war, when it may be either a 
 privateer or a pirate. Our conjectures were soon set at rest 
 by reconnoitring the two horsemen through a small spyglass, 
 when they proved to be two of the men we had left at the 
 camp, who had set out to rejoin us, and had wandered from 
 the track. 
 
 Our march this day was animating and delightful. We 
 
5S 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 I 
 
 were in a region of adventure ; breaking our way through 9 
 country hitherto untrodden by white men, excepting perchance 
 by some solitary trapper. The weather was in its perfection, 
 temperate, genial and enlivening ; a deep blue sky with a few 
 light feathery clouds, an atmosphere of perfect transparency, 
 an air pure and bland, and a glorious country spreading out 
 far and wide in the golden sunshine of an autumnal day ; but 
 all silent, lifeless, without a human habitation, and apparently 
 without a human inhabitant ! It was as if a ban hung over 
 t1iis fair but fated region. The very Indians dared not abide 
 here, but made it a mere scene of perilous enterprise, to hunt 
 for a few days, and then away. 
 
 After a march of about fifteen miles west we encamped in a 
 beautiful peninsula, made by the windings and doublings of a 
 deep, clear, and almost motionless brook, and covered by an 
 open grove of lofty and magnificent trees. Several hunters 
 immediately started forth in quest of game before the noise of 
 the camp shordd frighten it from the vicinity. Our man, 
 Beatte, also took liis. rifle and went forth alone, in a different 
 course from the rest. 
 
 For my own part, I lay on the grass under the trees, and 
 built castles in the clouds, and indulged in the very luxury of 
 rural repose. Indeed I can scarcely conceive a kind of life 
 more calculated to put both mind and body in a healthful tone. 
 A morning’s ride of several hours diversified by hunting inci- 
 dents; an encampment in the afternoon under some noble 
 grove on the borders of a stream ; an evening banquet of veni- 
 son, fresh killed, roasted, or broiled on the coals; turkeys 
 just from the thickets and wild honey from the trees ; and all 
 relished an appetite unknown to the gourmets of the cities. 
 
 And at night — such sweet sleeping in the open air, or waking 
 and gazing at the moon and stars, shining between the trees ! 
 
 On the present occasion, however, we had not much reason 
 to boast of our larder. But one deer had been killed during the 
 day, and none of that had reached our lodge. We were fain, 
 therefore, to stay our keen appetites by some scraps of turkey 
 brought from the last encampment, eked out with a slice or 
 two of salt pork. This scarcity, however, did not continue 
 long. Before dark a young hunter returned well laden with 
 spoil. He had shot a deer, cut it up in an artist-like style, and, 
 putting the meat in a kind of sack made of the hide, had slung 
 it across his shoulder and trudged with it to camp. 
 
 Not long after, Beatte made his appearance with a fat doe 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 I 
 
 53 
 
 across his horse. It was the first game he had brought in, and 
 I was glad to see him with a trophy that might efi'ace the 
 memory of the polecat. He laid the carcass down by our fire 
 without saying a word, and then turned to unsaddle his horse; 
 nor could any questions from us about his hunting draw from 
 him more than laconic replies. If Beatte, however, observed 
 this Indian taciturnity about what he had done, Tonish made 
 up for it by boasting of what he meant to do. Now that we 
 were in a good hunting country he meant to take the field, and, 
 if we would take his word for it, our lodge would henceforth 
 be overwhelmed with game. Luckily his talking did not pre- 
 vent his working, the doe was skilfully dissected, several fat 
 ribs roasted before the fire, the coffee kettle replenished, and 
 in a httle while we were enabled to indemnify ourselves luxuri- 
 ously for our late meagre repast. 
 
 The Captain did not return until late, and he returned empty- 
 handed. He had been in pursuit of his usual game, the deer, 
 when he came upon the tracks of a gang of about sixty elk. 
 Having never killed an animal of the kind, and the elk being 
 at this moment an object of ambition among all “the veteran 
 hunters of the camp, he abandoned his pursuit of the deer, 
 and followed the newly discovered track. After some time he 
 came in sight of the elk, and had several fair chances of a shot, 
 but was anxious to bring down a large buck which kept in the 
 advance. Finding at length there was danger of the whole 
 gang escaping him, he fired at a doe. The shot took effect, 
 but the animal had sufficient strength to keep on for a time 
 with its companions. From the tracks of blood he felt confi- 
 dent it was mortally wounded, but evening came on, he could 
 not keep the trail, and had to give up the search until morn- 
 ing. 
 
 Old Eyan and his little band had not yet rejoined us, neither 
 had our young half-breed Antoine made his appearance. It 
 was determined, therefore, to remain at our encampment for 
 the following day, to give time for all stragglers to arrive. 
 
 The conversation this evening, among the old huntsmen, 
 turned upon the Delaware tribe, one of whose encampments we 
 had passed in the course of the day ; and anecdotes were given 
 of their prowess in war and dexterity in hunting. They used 
 to be deadly foes of the Osages, who stood in great awe of their 
 desperate valor, though they were apt to attribute it to a whim- 
 sical cause. ‘‘Look at the Delawares,” would they say^ “ dey 
 got short leg —no can run — ^must stand and fight a great heap.” 
 
54 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 In fact the Delawares are rather short legged, while the Osages 
 are remarkable for- length of limb. 
 
 The expeditions of the Delawares, whether of war or hunting, 
 are wide and fearless ; a small band of them will penetrate far 
 into these dangerous and hostile wilds, and will push their en- 
 campments even to the Eocky Mountains. This daring tem- 
 per may be in some measTire encouraged by one of the super- 
 stitions of their creed. They believe that a guardian spirit, in 
 the form of a great eagle, watches over them, hovering in the 
 sky, far out of sight. Sometimes, when well pleased with 
 them, he wheels down into the lower regions, and may be seen 
 circling with widespread wings against the white clouds; at 
 such times the seasons are propitious, the corn grows finely, 
 and they have great success in hunting. Sometimes, however, 
 he is angry, and then he vents his rage in the thunder, w;hich 
 is his voice, and the lightning, which is the hashing of his eye, 
 and strikes dead the object of his displeasure. 
 
 The Delawares make sacrifices to this spirit, who occasion- 
 ally lets drop a feather from his wing in token of satisfaction. 
 These feathers render the wearer invisible, and invulnerable. 
 Indeed, the Indians generally consider the feathers of the eagle 
 possessed of occult and sovereign virtues. 
 
 At one time a party of the Delawares, in the course of a bold 
 excursion into the Pawnee hunting grounds, were surrounded 
 on one of the great plains, and nearly destroyed. The remnant 
 took refuge on the summit of one of those isolated and conical 
 hills which rise almost like artificial mounds, from the midst 
 of the prairies. Here the chief warrior, driven almost to de- 
 spair, sacrificed his horse to the tutelar spirit. Suddenly an 
 enormous eagle, rushing down from the sky, bore off the vic- 
 tim in his talons, and mounting into the air, dropped a quill 
 feather from his wing. The chief caught it up with joy, bound 
 it to his forehead, and, leading his followers down the hill, cut 
 his way through the enemy with great slaughter, and without 
 any one of his party receiving a wound. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE SEARCH FOR THE ELK. — PAWNEE STORIES. 
 
 With the morning dawn, the prime hunters of the camp 
 were all on the alert, and set off in different directions, to beat 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 65 
 
 up the country for game. The Captain’s brother, Sergeant 
 Bean, was among the first, and returned before breakfast with 
 success, having killed a fat doe, almost within the purlieus of 
 the camp. 
 
 When breakfast was over, the Captain mounted his horse, 
 to go in quest of the elk which he had wounded on the preced- 
 ing evening; and which, he was persuaded, had received its 
 death-wound. I determined to join him in the search, and we 
 accordingly sallied forth together, accompanied also by his 
 brother, the sergeant, and a lieutenant. Two rangers followed 
 on foot, to bring home the carcass of the doe which the ser- 
 geant had killed. We had not ridden far, when we came to 
 where it lay, on the side of a hill, in the midst of a beautiful 
 woodland scene. The two rangers immediately fell to work, 
 with true hunters’ skill, to dismember it, and prepare it for 
 transportation to the camp, while we continued on our course. 
 We passed along sloping hillsides, among skirts of thicket and 
 scattered forest trees, until we came to a place where the long 
 herbage was pressed down with numerous elk beds. Here the 
 Captain had first roused the gang of elks, and, after looking 
 about diligently for a Mttle while, he pointed out their ‘‘trail,” 
 the foot-prints of which were as large as those of horned cat- 
 tle. He now put himself upon the track, and went quietly for- 
 ward, the rest of us following him in Indian file. At length he 
 halted at the place where the elk had been when shot at. Spots 
 of blood on the surrounding herbage showed that the shot had 
 been effective. The wounded animal had evidently kept for 
 some distance with the rest of the herd, as could be seen by 
 sprinklings of blood here and there, on the shrubs and weeds 
 bordering the trail. These at length suddenly disappeared. 
 “Somewhere hereabout,” said the Captain, “the elk must 
 have turned off from the gang. V/henever they feel them- 
 selves mortally wounded, they will turn aside, and seek some 
 out-of-the-way place to die alone.” 
 
 There was something in this picture of the last moments of a 
 wounded deer, to touch the sympathies of one not hardened to 
 the gentle disports of the chase ; such sympathies, however, 
 are but transient. Man is naturally an animal of prey ; and, 
 however changed by civilization, will readily relapse into his 
 instinct for destruction. I found my ravenous and sangui- 
 nary propensities daily growing stronger upon the prairies. 
 
 After looking about for a little while, the Captain succeeded 
 in finding the separate trail of the wounded elk, which turned 
 
56 
 
 A TOUR OR THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 off almost at right angles from that of the herd, and entered 
 an open forest of scattered trees. The traces of blood became 
 more faint and rare, and occurred at greater distances: at 
 Length they ceased altogether, and the ground was so hard, 
 and the herbage so much parched and withered, that the foot 
 prints of the animal could no longer be perceived. 
 
 ‘‘The elk must he somewhere in this neighborhood,” said 
 the Captain, “as you may know by those turkey-buzzards 
 wheeling about in the air: for they always hover in that way 
 above some carcass. However, the dead elk cannot get away, 
 BO let us foUow the trail of the hvingones: they may have 
 halted at no great distance, and we may find them grazing, 
 and get another crack at them.” 
 
 We accordingly returned, and resumed the tro.il of the elks, 
 which led us a straggling course over hill and dale, covered 
 Vv^ith scattered oaks. Every now and then we would catch a 
 glimpse of a deer bounding away across some glade of the 
 forest, but the Captain was not to be diverted from his elk 
 hunt by such inferior game. A large fiock of wild turkeys, 
 too, Vv^ere roused by the trampling of our horses; some scam^ 
 pered off as fast as their long legs could carry them ; others 
 fluttered up into the trees, where they remained with out- 
 stretched necks, gazing at us. The Captain would not allow a 
 rifle to bo discharged at them, lest it should alarm the elk. 
 which he hoped to find in the vicinity. At length we came t<^ 
 where the forest ended in a steep bank, and the Ked Fori- 
 wound its way below us, between broad sandy shores. Tha 
 trail descended the bank, and we could trace it, with our eyes^ 
 across the level sands, until it terminated in the riv^er, which, 
 it was evident, the gang had forded on the preceding evening. 
 
 “It is needless to follow on any farther,” said the Captain. 
 “ Tlie elk must have been much frightened, and, after crossim^ 
 the river, may have kept on for twenty miles without stop- 
 ping.” 
 
 Our little party now divided, the lieutenant and sergeant 
 making a circuit in quest of game, and the Captain and myself 
 taking the direction of the camp. On our way, we came to a 
 buffalo track, more than a year old. It was not wider than au 
 ordinary footpath, and worn deep into the soil; for these 
 animals follow each other in single file. Shortly afterward, 
 we met two rangers on foot, hunting. They had wounded an 
 ell^, but he had escaped; and in pursuing him, had found the 
 one shot by the Captain on the preceding evening. They 
 
A TOUll ON THE PUAIUIKS. 
 
 turned back, and conducted us to it. It was a noble animal, 
 as large as a yearling heifer, and lay in an open part of the 
 forest, about a mile amd a half distant from the place where it 
 had been shot. The turkey -buzzards, which we had previously 
 noticed, were wheeling in the air above it. ^lie observation 
 of the Captain seemed verified. The poor animal, as life was 
 ebbing away, had apparently abandoned its unhurt com- 
 panions, and turned aside to die alone. 
 
 The Captain and the two rangers forthwith fell to work, 
 with their hunting-knives, to flay and cut up the carcass. It 
 was already tainted on the inside, but ample collops were cut 
 from the ribs and haunches, and laid in a heap on the out- 
 stretched hide. Holes were then cut along the border of the 
 hide, raw thongs were passed through them, and the whole 
 drawn up like a sack, which was swung behind the Captain’s 
 saddle. All this while, the turkey-buzzards were soaring over- 
 head, waiting for our departure, to swoop down and banquet 
 on the carcass. 
 
 Tjie wreck of the poor elk being thus dismantled, the Cap- 
 tain and myself mounted our horses, and jogged back to the 
 camp, while the two rangers resumed their hunting. 
 
 Oil reaching the camp, I found there our young half-breed, 
 Antoine. After separating from Beatte, in the search after 
 the stray horses on the other side of the Arkansas, he had 
 fallen upon a wrong track, which he followed for several miles, 
 when he overtook old Byan and his party, and found he had 
 been following their traces. 
 
 They all forded the Arkansas about eight miles above our 
 crossing place, and found their way to our late encampment in 
 the glen, where the rear-guard we had left behind was waiting 
 for them. Antoine, being well mounted, and somewhat im- 
 patient to rejoin us, had pushed on alone, following our trail, 
 to our present encampment, and bringing the carcass of a 
 young bear which he had killed. 
 
 Our camp, during the residue of the day, presented a min- 
 gled picture of bustle and repose. Some of the men vv^ere busy 
 round the fires, jerking and roasting venison and bear’s meat, 
 to be packed up as a future supply. Some were stretching 
 and dressing the skins of the animals they had killed ; others 
 were v/ashing their clothes in the brook, and hanging them on 
 the bushes to dry ; while many were lying on the grass, and 
 lazily gossiping in the shade. Every now and then a hunter 
 would return, on horseback or on foot, laden with game, or 
 
TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 f)8 
 
 empty handed. Those who brought home any spoil, deposited 
 it at the Captain’s fire, and then filed off to their respective 
 messes, to relate their day’s exploits to their companions. The 
 game killed at this camp consisted of six deer, one elk, two 
 bears, and six or eight turkeys. 
 
 During the last two or three days, since their wild Indian 
 achievement in naviga?ting the river, our retainers had risen 
 in consequence among the rangers; and now I found Tonish 
 making himself a complete oracle among some of the raw and 
 inexperienced recruits, who had never been in the wilderness. 
 He had continually a knot hanging about him, and listening 
 to his extravagant tales about the Pawnees, with whom he 
 pretended to have had fearful encounters. His representa- 
 tions, in fact, were calculated to inspire his hearers with an 
 awful idea of the foe into whose lands they were intruding. 
 According to his accounts, the rifle of the wliite man was no 
 match for the bow and arrow of the Pawnee. When the rifle 
 was once discharged, it took time and trouble to load it again, 
 and in the meantime the enemy could keep on launching his 
 shafts as fast as he could draw his bow. Then the Pawnee, 
 according to Tonish, could shoot, with unerring aim, three 
 hundred yards, and send his arrow clean through and through 
 a buffalo; nay, he had known a Pawnee shaft pass through one 
 buffalo and wound another. And then the way the Pawnees 
 sheltered themselves from the shots of their enemy: they 
 would hang with one leg over the saddle, crouching their bodies 
 along the opposite side of their horse, and would shoot their 
 arrows from under his neck, while at full speed ! 
 
 If Tonish was to be believed, there was peril at every step in 
 these debatable grounds of the Indian tribes. Pawnees lurked 
 unseen among the thickets and ravines. They had their scouts 
 and sentinels on the summit of the mounds which command 
 a view over the prairies, where they lay crouched in the tall 
 grass; only now and then raising their heads to watch the 
 movements of any war or hunting party that might be passing 
 in lengthened line below. At night, they would lurk round an 
 encampment; crawling through the grass, and imitating the 
 movements of a wolf, so as to deceive the sentinel on the out- 
 post, until, having arrived sufficiently near, they would speed 
 an arrow through his heart, and retreat undiscovered. In 
 telling his stories, Tonish would appeal from time to time to 
 Beatte, for the truth of what he said ; the only reply would be 
 a nod or shrug of the shoulders ; the latter being divided in 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 59 
 
 mind between a distaste for the gasconading spirit of his com- 
 rade, and a sovereign contempt for the inexperience of the 
 young rangers in all that he considered true knowledge. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A SICK CAMP.— THE MARCH.— THE DISABLED HORSE.— OLD RYAN 
 
 AND THE STRAGGLERS.— SYMPTOMS OF CHANGE OF WEATHER, 
 
 AND CHANGE OF HUMORS. 
 
 October 18th.— We prepared to march at the usual hour, 
 but word was brought to the Captain that three of the rangers, 
 who had been attacked with the measles, were unable to pro- 
 ceed, and that another one was missing. The last was an old 
 frontiersman, by the name of Sawyer, who had gained years 
 without experience ; and having sallied forth to hunt, on the pre- 
 ceding day, had probably lost his way on the prairies. A 
 guard of ten men was, therefore, left to take care of the sick, 
 and wait for the straggler. If the former recovered sufficiently 
 in the course of two or three days, they were to rejoin the 
 main body, otherwise to be escorted back to the garrison. 
 
 Taking our leave of the sick camp, we shaped our course 
 westward, along the heads of small streams, all wandering, in 
 deep ravines, towards the Red Fork. The land was high and 
 undulating, or ‘‘rolling,” as it is termed in the West; with a 
 poor hungry soil mingled with the sandstone, which is unusal 
 in this part of the country, and checkered with harsh forests of 
 post-oak and black-jack. 
 
 In the course of the morning, I received a lesson on the im- 
 portance of being chary of one’s steed on the prairies. The 
 one I rode surpassed in action most horses of the troop, and 
 was of great mettle and a generous spirit. In crossing the 
 deep ravines, he would scramble up the steep banks like a cat, 
 and was always for leaping the narrow runs of water. I was 
 not aware of the imprudence of indulging him in such exer- 
 tions, until, in leaping him across a small brook, I felt him 
 immediately falcer beneath me. He limped forward a short 
 distance, but soon fell stark lame, having sprained his shoulder. 
 What was to be done? He could not keep up with the troop, 
 and was too valuable to bo abandoned on the prairie. The 
 
60 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 only alternative was to send him back to join the invalids in 
 the sick camp, and to share their fortunes. Nobody, however, 
 seemed disposed to lead him back, although I offered a liberal 
 reward. Either the stories of Tonish about the Pawnees had 
 spread an apprehension of lurking foes, and imminent perils on 
 the prairies ; or there was a fear of missing the trail and getting 
 lost. At length two young men stepped forward and agreed 
 to go in company, so that, should they be benighted on the 
 prairies, there might be one to watch while the other slept. 
 
 The horse was accordingly consigned to their care, and I 
 looked after him with a rueful eye, as he limped off, for it 
 seemed as if, with him, all strength and buoyancy had departed 
 from me. 
 
 I looked round for a steed to supply his place, and fixed my 
 eyes upon the gallant gray which I had transferred at the 
 Agency to Tonish. The moment, however, that I hinted about 
 his dismounting and taking up with the supernumerary pony, 
 the little varlet broke out into vociferous remonstrances and 
 lamentations, gasping and almost strangling, in his eagerness 
 to give vent to them. I saw that to unhorse him would be to 
 prostrate his spirit and cvit his vanity to the quick. I had not 
 the heart to inflict such a wound, or to bring down the poor 
 devil from his transient vainglory ; so I left him in possession 
 of liis gallant gray; and contented myself with shifting my 
 saddle to the jaded pony. 
 
 I was now sensible of the complete reverse to which a horse- 
 man is exposed on the prairies. I felt how completely the 
 spirit of the rider depended upon his steed. I had hitherto 
 been able to make excursions at will from the line, and to gallop 
 in pursuit of any object of interest or curiosity. I was now 
 reduced to the tone of the jaded animal I bestrode, and doomed 
 to plod on patiently and slowly after my file leader. Above all, 
 I was made conscious how unwise it is, on expeditions of the 
 kind, where a man’s life may depend upon the strength, and 
 speed, and freshness of his horse, to task the generous animal 
 by any imnecessary exertion of his powers. 
 
 I have observed that the wary and experienced huntsman 
 and traveller of the prairies is always sparing of his horse, 
 when on a journey ; never, except in emergency, putting him 
 off of a walk. The regular journeyings of frontiersmen and In- 
 dians, when on a long march, seldom exceed above fifteen miles 
 a day, and are generally about ten or twelve, and they never 
 indulge in capricious galloping. Many of those^ however, with 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 61 
 
 whom I was travelling were young and inexperienced, and full 
 of excitement at finding themselves in a country abounding 
 with game. It was impossible to retain them in the sobriety of 
 a march, or to keep them to the lino. As we broke our way 
 through the coverts and ravines, and the deer started up and 
 scampered off to the right and left, the rifie balls would whiz 
 after them, and our young hunters dash off in pursuit. At one 
 time they made a grand burst after what they supposed to be 
 a gang of bears, but soon puUed up on discovering them to be 
 black wolves, prowling in company. 
 
 After a march of about twelve miles we encamped, a little after 
 mid-day, on the borders of a brook which loitered through a 
 deep ravine. In the course of the afternoon old Ryan, the 
 Nestor of the camp, made his appearance, followed by his little 
 band of stragglers. He was greeted with joyful acclamations, 
 which showed the estimation in which he was held by his 
 brother woodmen. The little band came laden with venison; 
 a fine haunch of which the veteran hunter laid, as a present, by 
 the Captain’s fire. 
 
 Our men, Beatte and Tonish, both sallied forth, early in the 
 afternoon, to hunt. Towards evening the former returned, 
 with a fine buck across his horse. He laid it down, as usual, in 
 silence, and proceeded to unsaddle and turn his horse loose. 
 Tonish came back without any game, but with much more 
 glory; having made several capital shots, though unluckily 
 the wounded deer had all escaped him. 
 
 There was an abundant supply of meat in the camp; for, 
 besides other game, three elk had been killed. The wary and 
 veteran woodmen were all busy jerking meat, against a time 
 of scarcity; the less experienced revelled in present abund- 
 ance, leaving the morrow to provide for itself. 
 
 On the following morning (October 19th), I succeeded in 
 changing my pony and a reasonable sum of money for a 
 strong and active horse. It was a great satisfaction to find 
 myself once more tolerably well mounted. I perceived, how- 
 ever, that there would be little difficulty in making a selection 
 from among the troop, for the rangers had all that propensity 
 for “swapping,” or, as they term it, “trading,” which per- 
 vades the West. In the course of our expedition, there was 
 scarcely a horse, rifie, powder-horn, or blanket that did not 
 change owners several times; and one keen “trader” boasted 
 of having, by dint of frequent bargains, changed a bad horse 
 into a good one, and put a hundred dollars in his pocket. 
 
62 
 
 A TOUB ON Tilli] Pli AIRIES. 
 
 The morning was loweiing and sultry, with low muttering 
 of distant thunder. The change of weather had its effect upon 
 the spirits of the troop. The camp was unusually sober and 
 quiet ; there was none of the accustomed farmyard melody of 
 crowing and cackling at daybreak; none of the bursts of mer- 
 riment, the loud jokes and banterings, that had commonly 
 prevailed during the bustle of equipment. Now and then 
 might be heard a short strain of a song, a faint laugh, or a soli- 
 tary whistle ; but, in general, every one went silently and dog- 
 gedly about the duties of the camp, or the preparations for 
 departure. 
 
 When the time arrived to saddle and mount, five horses were 
 reported as missing; although all the woods and thickets had 
 been beaten up for some distance round the camp. Several 
 rangers were dispatched to “skir” the country round in quest 
 of them. In the meantime, the thunder continued to growl, and 
 we had a passing shower. The horses, like their riders, were 
 affected by the change of weather. They stood here and there 
 about the camp, some saddled and bridled, others loose, but all 
 spiritless and dozing, with stooping head, one hind leg partly 
 drawn up so as to rest on the point of the hoof, and the whole 
 hide reeking with the rain, and sending up wreaths of vapor. 
 The men, too, waited in hstless groups the return of their com- 
 rades who had gone in quest of the horses ; now and then turn- 
 ing up an anxious eye to the drifting clouds, which boded an 
 approaching storm. Gloomy weather inspires gloomy thoughts. 
 Some expressed fears that we were dogged by some party of 
 Indians, who had stolen the horses in the night. The most 
 prevalent apprehension, however, was that they had returned 
 on their traces to our last encampment, or had started off on 
 a direct line for Fort Gibson. In this respect, the instinct of 
 horses is said to resemble that of the pigeon. They will strike 
 for home by a direct course, passing through tracts of wilder- 
 ness which they have never before traversed. 
 
 After delaying until the morning was somewhat advanced, a 
 lieutenant with a guard was appointed to await the return of 
 the rangers, and we set off on our day’s journey, considerably 
 reduced in numbers ; much, as I thought, to the discomposure 
 of some of the troop, who intimated that we might prove too 
 weak-haixded, in case of an encounter with the Pawnees, 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 63 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THUNDER-STORM ON THE PRAIRIES. —THE STORM ENCAMPMENT.— 
 NIGHT SCENE.— INDIAN STORIES.— A FRIGHTENED HORSE. 
 
 Our march for a part of the day ; lay a little to the south of 
 west, through straggling forests of the kind of low scrubbed 
 trees already mentioned, called “post-oaks” and “black-jacks.” 
 The soil of these “oak barrens” is loose and unsound; being 
 little better at times than a mere quicksand, in which, in rainy 
 weather, the horse’s hoof slips from side to side, and now and 
 then sinks in a rotten, spongy turf, to the fetlock. Such was 
 the case at present in consequence of successive thunder- 
 showers, through which we draggled along in dogged silence. 
 Several deer were roused by our approach, and scudded across 
 the forest glades ; but no one, as formerly, broke the line of 
 march to pursue them. At one time, we passed the bones and 
 horns of a buffalo, and at another time a buffalo track, not 
 above three days old. These signs of the vicinity of this 
 grand game of the prairies, had a reviving effect on the spirits 
 of our huntsmen ; but it was of transient duration. 
 
 In crossing a prairie of moderate extent, rendered little bet- 
 ter than a slippery bog by the recent showers, we were over- 
 taken by a violent thunder-gust. The rain came rattling upon 
 us in torrents, and spattered up like steam along the ground ; 
 the whole landscape was suddenly wrapped in gloom that gave 
 a vivid effect to the intense sheets of lightning, while the thun- 
 der seemed to burst over our very heads, and was reverbe- 
 rated by the groves and forests that checkered and skirted the 
 prairie. Man and beast were so pelted, drenched, and con- 
 founded, that the line was thrown in complete confusion ; some 
 of the horses were so frightened as to be almost unmanage- 
 able, and our scattered cavalcade looked like a tempest-tossed 
 fleet, driven hither and thither, at the mercy of wind and 
 wave. 
 
 At length, at half -past two o’clock, we came to a halt, and 
 gathering together our forces, encamped in an open and lofty 
 grove, with a prairie on one side and a stream on the other. 
 The forest immediately rang with the sound of the axe, and 
 the crash of falling trees. Huge fires were soon blazing; blan- 
 kets were stretched before them, by way of tents ; booths were 
 hastily reared of bark and skins; every fire had ite group 
 
64 
 
 A TOUB ON THE PRAIBTES. 
 
 drawn close round it, drying and warming themselves, or pre* 
 paring a comforting meal. Some of the rangers were dis- 
 charging and cleaning their rifles, which had been exposed to 
 the rain ; while the horses, relieved from their saddles and 
 burdens, rolled in the wet grass. 
 
 The showers continued from time to time, until late in the 
 evening. Before dark, our horses were gathered in and teth- 
 ered about the skirts of the camp, within the outposts, through 
 fear of Indian prowlers, who are apt to take advantage of 
 stormy nights for their depredations and assaults. As the 
 night thickened, the huge nres became more and more lumi- 
 nous ; lighting up masses of the overhanging foliage, and leav- 
 ing other parts of the grove in deep gloom. Every fire had its 
 goblin group around it, while the tethered horses were dimly 
 seen, like spectres, among the thickets; excepting that here 
 and there a gray one stood out in bright relief. 
 
 The grove, thus fitfully lighted up by the ruddy glare of the 
 fires, resembled a vast leafy dome, walled in by opaque dark- 
 ness ; but every now and then two or three quivering flashes 
 of lightning in quick succession, would suddenly reveal a vast 
 champaign country, where fields and forests, and running 
 streams, would start, as it were, into existence for a few 
 brief seconds, and, before the eye could ascertain them, vanish 
 again into gloom. 
 
 t A thunder-storm on a prairie, as upon the ocean, derives 
 igi'andeur and sublimity from the wild and boundless waste 
 over which it rages and bellows. It is not surprising that 
 these awful phenomena of nature should be objects of super- 
 stitious reverence to the poor savages, and that they should 
 consider the thunder the angry voice of the Great Spirit. As 
 our half-breeds sat gossiping round the fire, I drew from them 
 some of the notions entertained on the subject by their Indian 
 friends. The latter declare that extinguished thunderbolts are 
 / sometimes picked up by hunters on the prairies, who use them 
 / for the heads of arrows and lances, and that any warrior thus 
 armed is invincible. Should a thunder-storm occur, however, 
 during battle, he is liable to be carried away by the thunder, 
 and never heard of more. 
 
 ^ A warrior of the Konza tribe, hunting on a prairie, was 
 , overtaken by a storm, and struck down senseless by the 
 . thunder. On recovering, he beheld the thunderbolt lying on 
 the ground, and a horse standing beside it. Snatching up the 
 bolt, he sprang upon the horse, but found, too late, that he 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 on 
 
 was astride of the lightning. In an instant he was whisked 
 away over prairies and forests, and streams and deserts, until 
 he was flung senseless at the foot of the Rocky Mountains; 
 whence, on recovering, it took him several months to return 
 to his own people. 
 
 This story reminded me of an Indian tradition, related by a 
 traveller, of the fate of a warrior who saw the thunder lying 
 upon the ground, with a beautifully wrought moccason on 
 each side of it. Thinking he had found a prize, he put on the 
 moccasons; but they bore him away to the land of spirits, 
 whence he never returned. 
 
 These are simple and artless tales, but they had a wild and 
 romantic interest heard from the lips of half-savage narrators, 
 round a hunter’s Are, on a stormy night, with a forest on one 
 side, and a howling waste on the other ; and where, perad ven- 
 ture, savage foes might be lurking in the outer darkness. 
 
 Our conversation was interrupted by a loud clap of thunder, 
 followed immediately by the sound of a horse galloping off 
 madly into the waste. Every one listened in mute silence. 
 The hoofs resounded vigorously for a time, but grew fainter 
 and fainter, until they died away in remote distance. 
 
 When the sound was no longer to be heard, the listeners 
 turned to conjecture what could have caused this sudden 
 scamper. Some thought the horse had been startled by the 
 thunder; others, that some lurking Indian had galloped off 
 with him. To this it was objected, that the usual mode with 
 the Indians is to steal quietly upon the horse, take off his 
 fetters, mount him gently, and walk him off as silently as pos- 
 sible, leading off others, without any unusual stir or noise to 
 disturb the camp. 
 
 On the other hand, it was stated as a common practice with 
 the Indians, to creep among a troop of horses when grazing at 
 night, mount one quietly, and then start off suddenly at full 
 speed. Nothing is so contagious among horses as a panic; one 
 sudden break-away of this kind, will sometimes alarm the 
 whole troop, and they will set off, helter-skelter, after the 
 leader. 
 
 Every one who had a horse grazing on the skirts of the 
 camp was uneasy, lest his should be the fugitive ; but it was 
 impossible to ascertain the fact until morning. Those who 
 had tethered their horses felt more secure; though horses 
 thus tied up, and limited to a short range at night, are apt 
 to fall ofl in flesh and strength, during a long march; and 
 
66 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 many of the horses of the troop already gave signs of being 
 wayworn. 
 
 After a gloomy and unruly night, the morning dawned 
 bright and clear, and a glorious sunrise transformed the whole 
 landscape, as if by magic. The late dreary wilderness bright- 
 ened into a fine open country, with stately groves, and clumps 
 of oaks of a gigantic size, some of which stood singly, as if 
 planted for ornament and shade, in the midst of rich meadows ; 
 while our horses, scattered about, and grazing under them, 
 gave to the whole the air of a noble park. It was difficult to 
 realize the fact that we were so far in the wilds beyond the 
 residence of man. Our encampment, alone, had a savage 
 appearance ; with its rude tents of skins and blankets, and its 
 columns of blue smoke rising among the trees. 
 
 The first care in the morning, was to look after our horses. 
 Some of them had wandered to a distance, but all were fortu» 
 nately found ; even the one whose clattering hoofs had caused 
 such uneasiness in the night. He had come to a halt about a 
 mile from the camp, and was found quietly grazing near a 
 brook. The bvigle sounded for departure about half past eight. 
 As we were in greater risk of Indian molestation the farther 
 we advanced, our line was formed with more precision than 
 heretofore. Every one had his station assigned him, and was 
 forbidden to leave it in pursuit of game, without special per- 
 mission. The pack-horses were placed in the centre of the 
 line, and a strong guard in the rear. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 A GRAND PRAIRIE. — CLIFF CASTLE.— BUFFALO TRACKS. — DEER 
 HUNTED BY WOLVES. — CROSS TIMBER. 
 
 After a toilsome march of some distance through a country 
 cut up by ravines and brooks, and entangled by thickets, we 
 emerged upon a grand prairie. Here one of the characteristic 
 scenes of the Ear West broke upon us. An immense extent of 
 gi’assy, undulating, or, as it is termed, rolling country, with 
 here and there a clump of trees, dimly seen in the distance 
 like a ship at sea ; the landscape deriving sublimity from its 
 vastness and simplicity. To the southwest, on the summit of 
 
A TOUR ON Tim riiAlltIE8. 
 
 67 
 
 a Mil;, was a singular crest of broken rocks, resembling a 
 ruined fortress. It reminded me of the ruin of some Moorish 
 castle, crowning a height in the midst of a lonely Spanish 
 landscape. To this hill we gave the name of Cliff Castle. 
 
 The praiiies of these great hunting regions differed in 
 character of their vegetation from those through whick I had 
 hitherto passed. Instead of a profusion of tail flowering 
 plants and long flaunting grasses, they were covered with 
 a shorter growth of herbage called buffalo grass, somewhat 
 coarse, but, at the proper seasons, affording excellent and 
 abundant pasturage. At present it was growing wiry, and in 
 many places was too much parched for grazing. 
 
 The weather was verging into that serene but somewhat 
 arid season called the Indian Summer. There was a smoky 
 haze in the atmosphere that tempered the brightness of the 
 sunshine into a golden tint, softening the features of the land- 
 scape, and giving a vagueness to the outlines of distant 
 objects. This haziness was daily increasing, and was attri- 
 buted to the burning of distant prairies by the Indian hunting 
 parties. 
 
 We had not gone far upon the prairie before we came to 
 where deeply worn footpaths were seen traversing the country : 
 sometimes two or three would keep on parallel to each other, 
 and but a few paces apart. These were pronounced to be 
 traces of buffaloes, where largo droves had passed. There 
 were tracks also of horses, which were observed with some 
 attention by our experienced hunters. They could not be the 
 tracks of wild horses, as there were no prints of the hoofs of 
 colts ; all were full-grown. As the horses evidently were not 
 shod, it was concluded they must belong to some hunting 
 party of Pawnees. In the course of the morning, the tracks 
 of a single horse, with shoes, were discovered. This might be 
 the horse of a Cherokee hunter, or perhaps a horse stolen from 
 the whites of the frontier. Thus, in traversing these perilous 
 wastes, every footprint and dint of hoof becomes matter of 
 cautious inspection and shrewd surmise ; and the question con- 
 tinually is, whether it be the trace of friend or foe, whether of 
 recent or ancient date, and whether the being that made it bo 
 out of reach, or liable to be encountered. 
 
 We were getting more and more into the game country: as 
 we proceeded, we repeatedly saw deer to the right and left, 
 bounding off for the coverts ; but their appearance no longer 
 excited the same eagerness to pursue. In passing along r-. 
 
68 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 slope of the prairie, between two rolling swells of land, we 
 came in sight of a genuine natural hunting match. A pack of 
 seven black wolves and one white one were in full chase of a 
 buck, which they had nearly tired down. They crossed the 
 line of our march without apparently perceiving us ; we saw 
 them have a fair run of nearly a mile, gaining upon the buck 
 until they were leaping upon his haunches, when he plunged 
 down a ravine. Some of our party galloped to a rising ground 
 commanding a view of the ravine. The poor buck was com- 
 pletely beset, some on his flanks, some at his throat: he made 
 two or three struggles and desperate bounds, but was dragged 
 down, overpowered, and tom to pieces. The black wolves, in 
 their ravenous hunger and fury, took no notice of the distant 
 group of horsemen; but the white wolf, apparently less game, 
 abandoned the prey, and scampered over hill and dale, rousing 
 various deer that were crouched in the hollows, and which 
 bounded off likewise in different directions. It was altogether 
 a wild scene, worthy of the ‘‘hunting grounds.” 
 
 We now came once more in sight of the Eed Fork, winding 
 its turbid course between weU-wooded hills, and through a 
 vast and magnificent landscape. The prairies bordering on 
 the rivers are always varied in this way with woodland, so 
 beautifully interspersed as to appear to have been laid out by 
 the hand of taste ; and they only want here and there a village 
 spire, the battlements of a castle, or the turrets of an old 
 family mansion rising from among the trees, to rival the most 
 ornamented scenery of Europe. 
 
 About midday we reached the edge of that scattered belt of 
 forest land, about forty miles in width, which stretches across 
 the country from north to south, from the Arkansas to the 
 'Red River, separating the upper from the lower prairies, and 
 commonly called the “Cross Timber.” On the skirts of this 
 forest land, just on the edge of a prairie, we found traces of a 
 Pawnee encampment of between one and two hundred lodges, 
 showing that the party must have been numerous. The skull 
 of a buffalo lay near the camp, and the moss which had gath- 
 ered on it proved that the encampment was at least a year old. 
 About half a mile off we encamped in a beautiful grove, 
 watered by a fine spring and rivulet. Our day’s journey had 
 been about fourteen miles. 
 
 In the course of the afternoon we were rejoined by two of 
 Lieutenant King’s party, which we had left behind a few days 
 before, to look after stray horses, All the horses had been 
 
A. TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 69 
 
 found, though some had wandered to the distance of several 
 miles. The lieutenant, with seventeen of his companions, had 
 remained at our last night’s encampment to hunt, having come 
 upon recent traces of buffalo. They had also seen a fine wild 
 horse, which, however, had galloped off with a speed that 
 defied pursuit. 
 
 Confident anticipations were now indulged, that on the fol- 
 lowing day we should meet with buffalo, and perhaps with 
 wild horses, and every one was in spirits. We needed some 
 excitement of the kind, for our young men were growing 
 weary of marching and encamping under restraint, and pro- 
 visions this day were scanty. The Captain and several of the 
 rangers went out hunting, but brought home nothing but a 
 small deer and a few turkeys. Our two men, Beatte and 
 Tonish, likewise went out. The former returned with a deer 
 athwart his horse, which, as usual, he bid down by our lodge, 
 and said nothing. Tonish returned with no game, but with 
 his customary budget of wonderful tales. Both he and the 
 deer had done marvels. Not one had come within the lure of 
 his rifle without being hit in a mortal part, yet, strange to say, 
 every one had kept on his way without flinching. We all 
 determined that, from the accuracy of his aim, Tonish must 
 have shot with charmed balls, but that every deer had a 
 charmed life. The most important intelligence brought by 
 him, however, was, that he had seen the fresh tracks of 
 several wild horses. He now considered himself upon the 
 eve of great exploits, for there was nothing upon which he 
 glorified himself more than his skill in horse-catching. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 hunters’ anticipations.— the rugged ford.— a wild horse. 
 
 October 21st. — This morning the camp was in a bustle at an 
 early hour : the expectation of falling in with buffalo in the 
 course of the day roused every one’s spirit. There was a 
 continual cracking of rifles, that they might be reloaded: 
 the shot was drawn off from double-barrelled guns, and balls 
 were substituted. Tonish, however, prepared chiefly for a 
 campaign against wild horses. He took the field, with a coil 
 of cordage hung at his saddle-bow, and a couple of white 
 
70 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 >vands, something like fishing-rods eight or ten feet in length, 
 with forked ends. The coil of cordage thus used in hunting 
 the wild horse, is called a lariat, and answers to the lasso of 
 South America. It is not fiung, however, in the graceful and 
 dexterous Spanish style. The hunter after a hard chase, when 
 he succeeds in getting almost head and head with the wild 
 horse, hitches the running noose of the lariat over his head by 
 means of the forked stick; then letting him have the full 
 length of the cord, plays him hke a fish, and chokes him into 
 subjection. 
 
 AU this Tonish promised to exernphfy to our full satisfac- 
 tion; we had not much confidence in his success, and feared 
 he might knock up a good horse in a headlong gallop after 
 a bad one, for, like all the French creoles, he was a merciless 
 hard rider. It was determined, therefore, to keep a sharp eye 
 upon him, and to check his sallying propensities. 
 
 We had not proceeded far on our morning’s march, when we 
 were checked by a deep stream, running along the bottom of a 
 thickly wooded ravine. After coasting it for a couple of miles, 
 we came to a fording place; but to get down to it was the 
 difficulty, for the banks were steep and crumbling, and over- 
 grown with forest trees, mingled with thickets, brambles, and 
 grape-vines. At length the leading horseman broke his way 
 through the thicket, and his horse, putting his feet together, 
 slid down the black crumbling bank, to the narrow margin of 
 the stream ; then floundering across, with mud and water up 
 to the saddle-girths, he scrambled up the opposite bank, and 
 arrived safe on level ground. The whole line followed pell- 
 mell after the leader, and pushing forward in close order, 
 Indian file, they crowded each other down the bank and into 
 the stream. Some of the horsemen missed the ford, and were 
 soused over head and ears; one was unhorsed, and plmnped 
 head foremost into the middle of the stream: for my own 
 part, while pressed forward, and hurried over the bank by 
 those behind me, I was interrupted by a grape-vine, as thick as 
 a cable, which hung in a festoon as low as the saddle-bow, and 
 dragging me from the saddle, threw me among the feet ©f the 
 trampling horses. Fortunately, I escaped without injury, 
 regained my steed, crossed the stream without further diffi- 
 culty, and was enabled to join in the merriment occasioned by 
 the ludicrous disasters. 
 
 It is at passes like this that occur the most dangerous ambus- 
 cades and sanguinary surprises of Indian warfare. A party of 
 
A TOUR OK THE PR AIRIES. 71 
 
 savages well placed among the thickets, might have made sad 
 havoc among our men, while entangled in the ravine. 
 
 We now came out upon a vast and glorious prairie, spreading 
 out l^eneath the golden beams of an autumnal sun. The deep 
 and frequent traces of buffalo, showed it to be one of their 
 favoi^ite grazing grounds, yet none were to be seen. In the 
 course of the morning ; we were overtaken by the lieutenant 
 and seventeen men, who had remained behind, and who came 
 laden with the spoils of buffaloes ; having killed three on the 
 preceding day. One of the rangers, however, had little luck 
 to boast of; his horse having taken fright at sight of the 
 buffaloes, thrown his rider, and escaped into the woods. 
 
 The excitement of our hunters, both young and old, now rose 
 almost to fever height ; scarce any of them having ever encoun- 
 tered any of this far-famed game of the prairies. Accord- 
 ingly, when in the course of the day the cry of buffalo ! buffalo ! 
 rose from one part of the line, the whole troop were thrown in 
 agitation. We were just then passing through a beautiful 
 part of the prairie, finely diversified by hills and slopes, and 
 woody deUs, and high, stately groves. Those who had given 
 the alarm, pointed out a large Diack-Iooking animal, slowly 
 moving along the side of a rising ground, about two miles off. 
 The ever-ready Tonish jumped up, and stood with his feet on 
 the saddle, and his forked sticks m his hands, like a posture- 
 master or scaramouch at a circus, just ready for a feat of 
 horsemanship. After gazing at the animal for a moment, 
 which he could have seen full as well without rising from his 
 stirrups, he pronounced it a wild horse; and dropping again 
 into his saddle, was about to dash off full tilt in pursuit, 
 when, to his inexpressible chagrin, he was called back, and 
 ordered to keep to his post, in rear of the baggage horses. 
 
 The Captain and two of his officers now set off to recon- 
 noitre the game. It was the intention of the Captain, who was 
 an admirable marksman, to endeavor to crease the horse ; that 
 is to say, to hit him with a rifle Dali in the ridge of the neck. 
 A wound of this kind paralyzes a horse for a moment; he falls 
 to the ground, and may be secured before he recovers. It is a 
 cruel expedient, however, for an ill-directed shot may kill 
 or maim the noble animal. 
 
 As the Captain and his companions moved off laterally and 
 slowly, in the direction of the horse, we continued our course 
 forward; watching intently, however, the movements of the 
 game. The horse moved quietly over the profile of the rising 
 
72 
 
 A TOUR ON Tnr PRAIRIES. 
 
 ground, and disappeared behind it. The Captain and his party 
 were likewise soon hidden by an intervening hill. 
 
 After a time, the horse suddenly made his appearance to our 
 right, just ahead of the line, emerging out of a small valley, on 
 a brisk trot ; having evidently taken the alarm. At sight of us 
 he stopped short, gazed at us for an instant with surprise^ then 
 tossing up his head, trotted off in fine style, glancing at us first 
 over one shoulder, then over the other, his ample mane and 
 tail streaming in the wind. Having dashed through a skirt of 
 thicket, that looked like a hedge-row, he paused in the open 
 field beyond, glanced back at us again, with a beautiful bend 
 of the neck, snuffed the air, then tossing his head again, broke 
 into a gallop, and took refuge in a wood. 
 
 It was the first time I had ever seen a horse scouring his 
 native wilderness in all the pride and freedom of his naturOo 
 How different from the poor, mutilated, harnessed, checked, 
 reined-up victim of luxury, caprice, and avarice, in our 
 cities ! 
 
 After travelling about fifteen miles, we encamped about one 
 o’clock, tnat our hunters might have time to procure a supply 
 of provisions. Our encampment was in a spacious grove of 
 lofty oaks and walnuts, free from underwood, on the border 
 of a brook. While unloading the pack-horses, our little 
 frenchman was loud in his complaints at having been pre- 
 vented from pursuing the wild horse, which he would certainly 
 have taken. In the meantime, I saw our half-breed, Beatte, 
 quietly saddle his best horse, a powerful steed of haK-savage 
 race, hang a lariat at the saddle-bow, take a rifle and forked 
 stick in hand, and, mounting, depart from the camp without 
 saying a word. It was evident he was going off in quest of the 
 wild horse, but was disposed to hunt alone. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The Camp of the Wild Horse. 
 
 hunters’ stories. — HABITS OF THE WILD HORSE. — THE HALF 
 BREED AND HIS PRIZE. — A HORSE CHASE. — A WILD SPIRIT TAMED. 
 
 We had encamped in a good neighborhood for game, as 
 the reports of rifles in various directions speedily gave notice. 
 
A TOUli OJ^ THE PUAllilES. 
 
 78 
 
 One of our hunters soon retur: ed with the i leat of a doc, tied 
 up in the skin, and slung across hi j shoul lers. Al bher 
 brought a fat buck across his horse. Two other deer were 
 brought in, and a numbei* of turkeys. All the game was 
 thrown down in front of th:! Captain’s fire, to be i ortionc J out 
 among the various messes. The spits and camp kettles were 
 scon in full employ, and throughout the evening there \ as a 
 ?cene of hunters’ feasting and profusion. 
 
 We had been disappointed this day in our ?iopes of meeting 
 with buffalo, but the sight of the wild horse had been a great 
 novelty, and gave a turn to the conversation of the camp for 
 the evening. There wrere several anecdotes told of a famous 
 gray horse, which has ranged the prairies of this neighborhood 
 for six or seven years, setting at naught every attempt of the 
 hunters to capture him. They say he can pace and rack (or 
 amble) faster than the fleetest horses can run. Equally mar- 
 vellous accounts were given of a black horse on the Brazos, 
 v/ho gra^zed the prairies on that river’s banks in Texas. For 
 years he outstripped all pursuit. His fame spread far and 
 wide ; offers were made for him to the amount of a thousand 
 dollars; the boldest and most hard-riding hunters tried in- 
 cessantly to make prize of him, but in vain. At length he 
 fell a victim to his gallantry, being decoyed under a tree by 
 a ta.me mare, and a noose dropped over his head by a boy 
 perched among the branches. 
 
 The capture of a wild horse is one of the most favorite 
 achievements of the prairie tribes ; and, indeed, it is from this 
 source that the Indian hunters chiefly supply themselves. 
 The wild horses which range those vast grassy plains, extend- 
 ing from the Arkansas to the Spanish settlements, are of 
 various forms and colors, betraying their various descents. 
 Some resemble the common English stock, and are probably 
 descended from horses which have escaped from our border 
 settlements. Others are of a low but strong make, and are 
 supposed to bo of the Andalusian breed, brought out by the 
 Spanish discoverers. 
 
 Some fanciful speculatists Lave seen in them descendants of 
 the Arab stock, brought into Spain from Africa, and thence 
 transferred to this country ; and have pleased themselves with 
 the idea, that their sires may have been of the pure coursers of 
 the desert, that once bore Mahomet and his warlike disciples 
 across the sandy plains of Arabia. 
 
 The habits of the Arab seem to have come with the steed. 
 
74 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 The introdiiction of the horse on the boundless prairies of the 
 Far West, changed the whole mode of hving of their inhabi- 
 tants. It gave them that facility of rapid motion, and of sud- 
 den and distant change of place, so dear to the roving propen- 
 sities of man. Instead of lurking in the depths of gloomy 
 forests, and patiently threading the mazes of a tangled wilder- 
 ness on foot, hke his brethren of the north, the Indian of the 
 West is a rover of tJie plain; he leads a brighter and more 
 sunshiny life; almost always on horseback, on vast flowery 
 prairies and under cloudless skies. 
 
 I was lying by the Captain’s fire, late in the evening, lis- 
 tening to stories about those coursers of the prairies, and 
 weaving speculations of my own, when there was a clamor of 
 voices and a loud cheering at the other end of the camp ; and 
 word was passed that Beatte, the half-breed, had brought in a 
 wild horse. 
 
 In an instant every fire was deserted; the whole camp 
 crowded to see the Indian and his prize. It was a colt about 
 two years old, well grown, finely limbed, with bright promi- 
 nent eyes, and a spirited yet gentle demeanor. He gazed 
 about him with an air of mingled stupefaction and surprise, 
 at the men, the horses, and the camp-fires; while the Indian 
 stood before him with folded arms, having hold of the other 
 end of the cord which noosed his captive, and gazing on him 
 with a most imperturbable aspect. Beatte, as I have before 
 observed, has a greenish olive complexion, with «a strongly 
 marked countenance, not unlike the bronze casts of Napoleon ; 
 and as he stood before his captive horse, with folded arms and 
 fixed aspect, he looked more hke a statue than a man. 
 
 If the horse, however, mamifested the least restiveness, 
 Beatte would immediately worry him with the lariat, jerking 
 him first on one side, then on the other, so as almost to throw 
 him on the ground ; when he had thus rendered him passive, 
 he would resume his statue-hke attitude and gaze at him in 
 silence. 
 
 The whole scene was singularly wild; the tall grove, par- 
 tially illumined by the hashing fires of the camp, the horses 
 tethered here and there among the trees, the carcasses of deer 
 hanging around, and in the midst of all, the wild huntsman 
 and his wild horse, with an admiring throng of rangers, 
 almost as wild. 
 
 In the eagerness of their excitement, several of the young 
 rangers sought to get the horsQ by purchase or barter, and 
 
A TOUR ON THE PR/ TRIES, 
 
 75 
 
 even offered extravagant terms ; but Beatte declined all their 
 offers. “You give great price now said he, “ to-morrow you 
 be sorry, and take back, and say d — d Indian !” 
 
 The young men importuned him with questions about the 
 mode in which he took the horse, but his answers were dry 
 and laconic ; he evidently retained some pique at having been 
 undervalued and sneered at by them; and at the same time 
 looked down upon them with contempt as greenhorns, httle 
 versed in the noble science of woodcraft. 
 
 Afterward, however, when he was seated by our fire, I read- 
 ily drew from him an account of his exploit; for, though 
 taciturn among strangers, and little prone to boast of his 
 actions, yet his taciturnity, hke that of all Indians, had its 
 times of relaxation. 
 
 He informed me, that on leaving the camp, he had returned 
 to the place where we had lost sight of the wild horse. Soon 
 getting upon its track, he followed it to the banks of the river. 
 Here, the prints being more distinct in the sand, he perceived 
 that one of the hoofs was broken and defective, so he gave up 
 the pursuit. 
 
 As he was returning to the camp, he came upon a gang of 
 six horses, which immediately made for the river. He pur- 
 sued them across the stream, left his rifle on the river bank, 
 and putting his horse to full speed, soon came up vAth the 
 fugitives. He attempted to noose one of them, but the lariat 
 hitched on one of his ears, and he shook it off. The horses 
 dashed up a hill, he followed hard at their heels, when, of a 
 sudden, he saw their tails whisking in the air, and they 
 plunging down a precipice. It was too late to stop. He shut 
 his eyes, held in his breath, and went over with them — neck 
 or nothing. The descent was between twenty and thirty feet, 
 but they ail came down safe upon a sandy bottom. 
 
 He now succeeded in throwing his noose round a fine young 
 horse. As he galloped alongside of him, the two horses passed 
 each side of a sapling, and the end of the laria^t v/as jeiked out 
 of his hand. He regained it, but an intervening tree obliged 
 him again to let it go. Having once more caught it, and com- 
 ing to a more open country, he was enabled to play the young 
 horse with the line until he gradually checked and subdued 
 liim, so as to lead him to the place where he had left his rifle. 
 
 He had another formidable difficulty in getting him across 
 the river, where both horses stuck for a time in the mire, and 
 Beatte was nearly unseated from his saddle by the force of the 
 
76 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIiilES. 
 
 current and the struggles of his captive. After much toil and 
 trouble, however, he got across the stream, and brought his 
 prize safe into camp. 
 
 For the remainder of the evening, the camp remained in a 
 high state of excitement ; nothing was talked of but the cap- 
 ture of wild horses ; every youngster of the troop was for this 
 harum-scarum kind of chase ; every one promised himseK to 
 return from the campaign in triumph, bestriding one of these 
 wild coursers of the prairies. Beatte had suddenly risen to 
 great importance ; he was the prime hunter, the hero of the 
 day. Offers were made him by the best mounted rangers, 
 to let him ride their horses in the chase, provided he would 
 give them a share of the spoil. Beatte bore his honors in 
 silence, and closed with none of the offers. Our stammering, 
 chattering, gasconading little Frenchman, however, made up 
 for his taciturnity, by vaunting as much upon the subject as 
 if it were he that had caught the horse. Indeed he held forth 
 so learnedly in the matter, and boasted so much of the many 
 horses he had taken, that he began to be considered an oracle ; 
 and some of the youngsters were inclined to doubt whether he 
 were not superior even to the taciturn Beatte. 
 
 The excitement kept the camp awake later than usual. The 
 hum of voices, interrupted by occasional peals of laughter, was 
 heard from the groups around the various fires, and the night 
 was considerably advanced before all had sunk to sleep. 
 
 With the morning dawn the excitement revived, and Beatte 
 and his wild horse were again the gaze and talk of the camp. 
 The captive had been tied all night to a tree among the other 
 horses. He was again led forth by Beatte, by a long halter or 
 lariat, and, on his manifesting the least restiveness, was, as 
 before, jerked and worried into passive submission. He ap- 
 peared to be gentle and docile by nature, and had a beautifully 
 mild expression of the eye. In his strange and forlorn situa- 
 tion, the poor animal seemed to seek protection and companion- 
 ship in the very horse which had aided to capture him. 
 
 Seeing him thus gentle and tractable, Beatte, just as we were 
 about to march, strapped a light pack upon his back, by way 
 of giving him the first lesson in servitude. The native pride 
 and independence of the animal took fire at this indignity. 
 He reared, and plunged, and kicked, and tried in every way to 
 get rid of the degrading burden. The Indian was too potent 
 for him. At every paroxysm he renewed the discipline of the 
 halter, until the poor animal, driven to despair, threw himself 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 77 
 
 prostrate on the ground, and lay motionless, as if acknowl- 
 edging himself vanquished. A stage hero, representing the 
 despair of a captive prince, could not have played his part 
 more dramatically. There was absolutely a moral grandeur 
 in it. 
 
 The imperturbable Beatte folded his arms, and stood for a 
 time, looking down in silence upon his captive; until seeing 
 him perfectly subdued, he nodded his head slowly, screwed his 
 mouth into a sardonic smile of triumph, and, with a jerk of 
 the halter, ordered him to rise. He obeyed, and from that 
 time forward offered no resistance. During that day he bore 
 his pack patiently, and was led by the halter ; but in two days 
 he followed voluntarily at large among the supernumerary 
 horses of the troop. 
 
 I could not look without compassion upon this fine young 
 animal, whose whole course of existence had been so suddenly 
 reversed. From being a denizen of these vast pastures, rang- 
 ing at will from plain to plain and mead to mead, cropping of 
 every herb and fiower, and drinking of every stream, he was 
 suddenly reduced to perpetual and painful servitude, to pass 
 his life under the harness and the curb, amid, perhaps, the din 
 and dust and drudgery of cities. The transition in his lot was 
 such as sometimes takes place in human affairs, and in the for- 
 tunes of towering individuals : — one day, a prince of the prai- 
 ries— the next day, a pack-horse ! 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 THE FORDING OF THE RED FORK. — THE DREARY FORESTS OF THE 
 ‘ ‘ CROSS TIMBER. ” — BUFFALO ! 
 
 We left the camp of the wild horse about a quarter before 
 eight, and, after steering nearly south for three or four miles, 
 arrived on the banks of the Eed Fork, about seventy-five 
 miles, as we supposed, above its mouth. The river was about 
 three hundred yards wide, wandering among sand-bars and 
 shoals. Its shores, and the long sandy banks that stretched 
 out into the stream, were printed, as usual, with the traces of 
 various animals that had come down to cross it, or to drink its 
 waters. 
 
78 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 Here we came to a halt, and there was much consultation 
 about the possibility of fording the river with safety, as there 
 was an apprehension of quicksands. Beatte, who had been 
 somewhat in the rear, came up while we were debating. He 
 was mounted on his horse of the half-wild breed, and leading 
 his captive by the bridle. He gave the latter in charge to To- 
 nish, and without saying a word, urged his horse into the 
 stream, and crossed it in safety. Every thing was done by this 
 man in a similar way, promptly, resolutely, and silently, with- 
 out a previous promise or an after vaunt. 
 
 The troop now followed the lead of Beatte, and reached the 
 opposite shore without any mishap, though one of the pack- 
 horses wandering a little from the track, came near being 
 swallowed up in a quicksand, and was with difficulty dragged 
 to land. 
 
 After crossing the river, we had to force our way, for nearly 
 a mile, through a thick canebrake, which, at first sight, ap- 
 peared an impervious mass of reeds and brambles. It was a 
 hard struggle ; our horses were often to the saddle-girths in 
 mire and water, and both horse and horseman harassed and 
 torn by bush and brier. Falling, however, upon a buffalo 
 track, we at length extricated ourselves from this morass, and 
 ascended a ridge of land, where we beheld a beautiful open 
 country before us ; while to our right, the belt of forest land, 
 called “The Cross Timber,” continued stretching away to the 
 southward, as far as the eye could reach. We soon abandoned 
 the open country, and struck into the forest land. It was the 
 intention of the Captain to keep on southwest by south, and 
 traverse the Cross Timber diagonally, so as to come out upon 
 the edge of the great western prairie. By thus maintaining 
 something of a southerly direction, he trusted, while he crossed 
 the belt of the forest, he would at the same time approach the 
 Bed Eiver. 
 
 The plan of the Captain was judicious; but he erred from 
 not being informed of the nature of the country. Had he 
 kept directly west, a couple of days would have carried us 
 through the forest land, and we might then have had an easy 
 course along the skirts of the upper prairies, to Bed Biver; by 
 going diagonally, we were kept for many weary days toiling 
 through a dismal series of rugged forests. 
 
 The Cross Timber is about forty miles in breadth, and 
 stretches over a rough country of rolling hills, covered with 
 scattered tracts of post-oak and black-jack ; wuth some inter 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 79 
 
 vening valleys, which, at proper seasons, would afford good 
 pasturage. It is very much cut up by deep ravines, wliich, in 
 the rainy seasons, are the beds of temporary streams, tribu- 
 tary to the main rivers, and these are called ‘‘ branches.” The 
 whole tract may present a pleasant aspect in the fresh time of 
 the year, when the ground is covered with herbage ; when the 
 trees are in their green leaf, and the glens are enlivened by 
 running streams. Unfortunately, we entered it too late in the 
 season. The herbage Avas parched; the foliage of the scrubby 
 forests was withered ; the whole woodland prospect, as far as 
 the eye could reach, had a, brown and arid hue. The fires 
 made on the prairies *by the Indian hunters, had frequently 
 penetrated these forests, sweeping in light transient flames 
 along the dry grass, scorching and calcining the lower twigs 
 and branches of the trees, and leaving them black and hard, so 
 as to tear the flesh of man and horse that had to scramble 
 through them. I shall not easily forget the mortal toil, and 
 the vexations of flesh and spirit, that we underwent occasion- 
 ally, in our wanderings through the Cross Timber. It was 
 like struggling through forests of cast iron. 
 
 After a tedious ride of several miles, we came out upon an 
 open tract of hill and dale, interspersed with woodland. Here 
 we were roused by the cry of buffalo ! buffalo ! The effect was 
 something like that of the cry of a sail ! a sail ! at sea. It was 
 not a false alarm. Three or four of those enormous animals 
 were visible to our sight grazing on the slope of a distant hill. 
 
 There was a general movement to set off in pursuit, and 
 it was with some difnculty that the vivacity of the younger 
 men of the troop could be restrained. Leaving orders that 
 the line of march should be preserved, the Captain and two 
 of his officers departed at quiet a pace, accompanied by Beatte, 
 and by the ever-f orward Tonish ; for it was impossible any 
 longer to keep the little Frenchman in check, being half crazy 
 to prove his skill and prowess in hunting the buffalo. 
 
 The intervening hills soon hid from us both the game and 
 the huntsmen. We kept on our course in quest of a camp- 
 ing place, which was difficult to be found; almost all the 
 channels of the streams being dry, and the coimtry being des- 
 titute of fountain heads. 
 
 After proceeding some distance, there was again a cry of 
 buffalo, and two were pointed out on a hill to the left. The 
 Captain being absent, it was no longer possible to restrain the 
 ardor of the young hunters. Away several of them dashed. 
 
80 
 
 A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 
 
 full speed, and soon disappeared among the ravines; the rest 
 kept on, anxious to find a proper place for encampment. 
 
 Indeed we now began to experience the disadvantages of the 
 season. The pasturage of the prairies was scanty and parched; 
 the pea-vines which grew in the woody bottoms were withered, 
 and most of the ‘‘branches” or streams were dried up. While 
 wandering in this perplexity, we were overtaken by the Cap- 
 tain and all his party, except Tonish. They had pursued the 
 buffalo for some distance without getting within shot, and had 
 given up the chase, being fearful of fatiguing their horses, or 
 being led off too far from camp. The little Frenchman, how- 
 ever, had galloped after them at headlong speed, and the 
 last they saw of him, he was engaged, as it were, yard-arm 
 and yard-arm, with a great buffalo bull, firing broadsides into 
 him. “I tink dat little man crazy — somehow,” observed 
 Beatte, dryly. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 THE ALARM CAMP. 
 
 We now came to a halt, and had to content ourselves with 
 an indifferent encampment. It was in a grove of scruboaks, 
 on the borders of a deep ravine, at the bottom of which were 
 a few scanty pools of water. We were just at the foot of 
 a gradually-sloping hill, covered with half-withered grass, that 
 afforded meagre pasturage. In the spot where we had en- 
 camped, the grass was high and parched. The view around us 
 was circumscribed and much shut in by gently swelling hills. 
 
 Just as we were encamping, Tonish arrived, all glorious, 
 from his hunting match ; his white horse hung aU round with 
 buffalo meat. According to his own account, he had laid low 
 two mighty buUs. As usual, we deducted one half from his 
 boastings; but, now that he had something real to vaunt 
 about, there was no restraining the valor of his tongue. 
 
 After having in some measure appeased his vanity by boast- 
 ing of his exploit, he informed us that he had observed the 
 fresh track of horses, which, from various circumstances, he 
 suspected to have been made by some roving band of Pawnees. 
 This caused some little uneasiness. The young men who 
 had left the line of march in pursuit of the two buffaloes, had 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 81 
 
 not yet rejoined us ; apprehensions were expressed that they 
 might be waylaid and attacked. Our veteran hunter, old 
 Kyan, also, immediately on our halting to encamp, had gone 
 off on foot, in company with a young disciple. Dat old man 
 will have his brains knocked out by de Pawnees yet,” saio 
 Beatte. ^‘He tink he know every ting, but he don’t knov& 
 Pawnees, anyhow.” 
 
 Taking his rifle, the Captain repaired on foot to reconnoitre 
 the country from the naked summit of one of the neighbor 
 ing hills. In the meantime, the horses were hobbled anU 
 turned loose to graze ; and wood was cut, and fires made, to 
 prepare the evening’s repast. 
 
 Suddenly there was an alarm of fire in the camp ! The flame 
 from one of the kindling fires had caught to the taU dry grass; 
 a breeze was blowing; there was danger that the camp would 
 soon be wrapped in a light blaze. Look to the horses !” cried 
 one; “Drag away the baggage!” cried another. “Take care 
 of the rifles and powder-horns !” cried a third. All was hurry- 
 scurry and uproar. The horses dashed wildly about; some 
 of the men snatched away rifles and powder-horns, others 
 dragged off saddles and saddle-bags. Meantime, no one 
 thought of quelling the fire, nor indeed knew how to quell it. 
 Beatte, however, and his comrades attacked it in the Indian 
 mode, beating down the edges of the fire with blankets and 
 horse-cloths, and endeavoring to prevent its spreading among 
 the grass ; the rangers followed their example, and in a little 
 while the flames were happily quelled. 
 
 The fires were now properly kindled on places from which 
 the dry grass had been cleared avfay. The horses were scat- 
 tered about a small valley, and on the sloping hill -side, crop- 
 ping the scanty herbage. Tonish was preparing a sumptuous 
 evening’s meal from his buffalo meat, promising us a rich soup 
 and a prime piece of roast beef: but we were doomed to ex- 
 perience another and more serious alarm. 
 
 There was an indistinct cry from some rangers on the sum- 
 mit of the hill, of which we could only distinguish the words, 
 “ The horses 1 the horses ! get in the horses 1” 
 
 Immediately a clamor of voices arose ; shouts, inquiries, re- 
 plies, were all mingled together, so that nothing could be 
 clearly understood, and every one drew his own inference. 
 
 “ The Captain has started buffaloes,” cried one, “and wants 
 horses for the chaise.” Immediately a number of rangers 
 seized their rifles, and scampered for the hill-top. “The prar 
 
82 
 
 A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 
 
 rie is on fire beyond the hill,” cried another; see the 
 smoke— the Captain means we shall drive the horses beyond 
 the brook.” 
 
 By this time a ranger from the hiU had reached the skirts of 
 the camp. He was almost breathless, and could only say that 
 the Captain had seen Indians at a distance. 
 
 ‘‘Pawnees! Pawnees!” was now the cry among our wild- 
 headed youngsters. “ Drive the horses into camp!” cried one. 
 “Saddle the horses !” cried another. “ Form the line !” cried a 
 third. There was now a scene of clamor and confusion that 
 baffles aU description. The rangers were scampering about 
 the adjacent field in pursuit of their horses. One might be 
 seen tugging his steed along by a halter ; another without a 
 hat, riding bare-backed; another driving a hobbled horse be- 
 fore him, that made awkward leaps like a kangaroo. 
 
 The alarm increased. Word was brought from the lower 
 end of the camp that there was a band of Pawnees in a neigh- 
 boring valley. They had shot old Ryan through the head, and 
 were chasing his companion! “No, it v/as not old Ryan that 
 was killed— it was one of the hunters that had been after the 
 two buffaloes.” “ There are three hundred Pawnees just be- 
 yond the hill,” cried one voice. “ More, more !” cried another. 
 
 Our situation, shut in among hills, prevented our seeing to 
 any distance, and left us a prey to all these rumors. A cruel 
 enemy was supposed to be at hand, and an immediate attack 
 apprehended. The horses by this time were driven into the 
 camp, and were dashing about among the fires, and trampling 
 upon the baggage. Every one endeavored to prepare for 
 action ; but here was the perplexity. During the late alarm of 
 fire, the saddles, bridles, rifles, powder-horns, and other equip- 
 ments, had been snatched out of their places, and thrown 
 helter-skelter among the trees. 
 
 “ Where is my saddle?” cried one. “ Has any one seen my 
 rifle?” cried another. “Who will lend me a ball?” cried a 
 third, who was loading his piece.' “I have lost my bullet 
 pouch.” “ For God’s sake help me to girth this horse!” cried 
 another: “ he’s so restive I can do nothing with him,” In his 
 hurry and worry, he had put on the saddle the hind part be- 
 fore! 
 
 Some affected to swagger and talk bold ; others said nothing, 
 but went on steadily, preparing their horses and weapons, and 
 on these I felt the niost reliance. Some were evidently excited 
 ajpd elated with the idea of an encounter with Indians ; and 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 83 
 
 none more so than my young Swiss fellow-traveller, who had a 
 passion for wild adventure. Our man, Beatte, led his horses 
 in the rear of the camp, placed his rifle against a tree, then 
 seated himself by the fire in perfect silence. On the other 
 hand, little Tonnish, who was busy cooking, stopped every 
 moment from his work to play the fanfaron, singing, swear- 
 ing, and affecting an unusual hilarity, which made me strong- 
 iy suspect there was some little fright at bottom, to cause all 
 this effervescence. 
 
 About a dozen of the rangers, as soon as they could saddle 
 their horses, dashed off in the direction in which the Pawnees 
 were said to have attacked the hunters. It was now deter- 
 mined, in case our camp should be assailed, to put our horses 
 in the ravine in the rear, where they would be out of danger 
 from arrow or rifle-ball, and to take our stand within the edge 
 of the ravine. This would serve as a trench, and the trees and 
 thickets with which it was bordered, would be sufficient to 
 turn aside any shaft of the enemy. The Pawnees, besides, are 
 wary of attacking any covert of the kind ; their warfare, as I 
 have already observed, lies in the open prairie, where, mounted 
 upon their fleet horses, they can swoop like hawks upon their 
 enemy, or wheel about him and discharge their arrows. Still 
 I could not but perceive, that, in case of being attacked by 
 such a niunber of these well-mounted and war-like savages as 
 were said to be at hand, we should be exposed to considerable 
 risk from the inexperience and want of discipline of our newly 
 raised rangers, and from the very courage of many of the 
 younger ones who seemed bent on adventure and exploit. 
 
 By this time the Captain reached the camp, and every one 
 crowded round him for information. He informed us, that 
 he had proceeded some distance on his reconnoitring expedi- 
 tion, and was slowly returning toward the camp, along the 
 brow of a naked hill, when he saw something on the edge of a 
 parallel hill, that looked like a man. He paused and watched 
 it ; but it remained so perfectly motionless, that he supposed it 
 a bush, or the top of some tree beyond the hill. He resumed 
 liis course, when it likewise began to move in a parallel direc- 
 tion. Another form now rose beside it, of some one who had 
 either been lying down, or had just ascended the other side of 
 the hill. The Captain stopped and regarded them; they like- 
 wise stopped. He then lay down upon the grass, and they 
 began to walk. On his rising, they again stopped, as if watch- 
 ing him. Knowing that the Indians are apt to have their spies 
 
84 
 
 A TOUE ON THE PEAIUIES. 
 
 and sentinels thus posted on the summit of naked hills, com- 
 manding extensive prospects, his doubts were increased by the 
 suspicious movements of these men. He now put his foraging 
 cap on the end of his rifle, and waved it in the air. They took no 
 notice of the signal. He then walked on, until he entered the 
 edge of a wood, which concealed him from their view. Stop- 
 ping out of sight for a moment, he again looked forth, when 
 he saw the two men passing swiftly forward. As the hill on 
 which they were walking made a curve toward that on which 
 he stood, it seemed as if they were endeavoring to head him 
 before he should reach the camp. Doubting whether they 
 might not belong to some large party of Indians, either in 
 ambush or moving along the valley beyond the hill, the Cap- 
 tain hastened his steps homeward, and, descrying some rangers 
 on an eminence between him and the camp, he called out to 
 them to pass the word to have the horses driven in, as these 
 are generally the first objects of Indian depredation. 
 
 Such was the origin of the alarm which had thrown the 
 camp in commotion. Some of those who heard the Captain’s 
 narration, had no doubt that the men on the hill were Pawnee 
 scouts, belonging to the band that had waylaid the hunters. 
 Distant shots were heard at intervals, which were supposed to 
 be fired by those who had sallied out to rescue their comrades. 
 Several more rangers, having completed their equipments, 
 now rode forth in the direction of the firing; others looked 
 anxious and uneasy. 
 
 “ If they are as numerous as they are said to be,” said one, 
 
 and as well mounted as they generally are, we shall be a bad 
 match for them with our jaded horses.” 
 
 ‘‘Well,” replied the Captain, “we have a strong encamp- 
 ment, and can stand a siege.” 
 
 “Ay, but they may set fire to the prairie in the night, and 
 burn us out of our encampment.” 
 
 “We will then set up a counter-fire !” 
 
 The word was now passed that a man on horseback ap- 
 proached the camp. 
 
 “ It is one of the hunters ! It is Clements ! He bring-s buffalo 
 meat !” was announced by several voices as the horseman drew 
 near. 
 
 It was, in fact, one of the rangers who had set off in the 
 morning in pursuit of the two buffaloes. He rode into the camp, 
 with the spoils of the chase hanging round his horse, and fol- 
 lowed by his companions, all sound and unharmed, and equally 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 8S 
 
 well laden. They proceeded to give an account of a grand 
 gallop they had had after the two buffaloes, and how many 
 shots it had cost them to bring one to the ground. 
 
 ‘‘Well, but the Pawnees— the Pawnees — where are the 
 Pawnees?” 
 
 “ What Pawnees?” 
 
 “The Pawnees that attacked you.” 
 
 “No one attacked us.” 
 
 “ But have you seen no Indians on your way?” 
 
 “ Oh yes, t^vo of us got to the top of a hill to look out for the 
 camp, and saw a fellow on an opposite hill cutting queer an- 
 tics, who seemed to be an Indian.” 
 
 “Pshaw! that was I!” said the Captain. 
 
 Here the bubble burst. The whole alarm had risen from 
 this mutual mistake of the Captain and the two rangers. As 
 to the report of the three hundred Pawnees and their attack 
 on the hunters, it proved to be a wanton fabrication, of which 
 no further notice was taken; though the author deserved to 
 have been sought out, and severely punished. 
 
 There being no longer any prospect of fighting, every one 
 now thought of eating; and here the stomachs throughout the 
 camp were in unison. Tonish served up to us his promised 
 regale of buffalo soup and buffalo beef. The soup was pep- 
 pered most horribly, and the roast beef proved the buU to have 
 been one of the patriarchs of the prairies ; never did I have to 
 deal with a tougher morsel. However, it was our first repast 
 on buffalo meat, so we ate it with a lively faith ; nor would our 
 little Frenchman allow us any rest, until he had extorted from 
 us an acknowledgment of the excellence of his cookery ; though 
 the pepper gave us the lie in our throats. 
 
 The night closed in without the return of old Eyan and his 
 companion. We had become accustomed, however, to the 
 aberrations of this old cock of the woods, and no further solici 
 tude was expressed on his account. 
 
 After the fatigues and agitations of the day, the camp soon 
 sunk into a profound sleep, excepting those on guard, who were 
 more than usually on the alert ; for the traces recently seen 
 of Pawnees, and the certainty that we were in the midst of 
 their hunting grounds, excited to constant vigilance. About 
 half past ten o’clock we were all startled from sleep by a new 
 alarm. A sentinel had fired off his rifle and run into camp, 
 crying that there were Indians at hand. 
 
 Every one was on his legs in an instant. Some seized their 
 
86 
 
 A TOUR OJV THE PRAIRIES 
 
 rifles ; some were about to saddle their horses ; some hastened 
 to the Captain’s lodge, but were ordered back to their respec- 
 tive fires. The sentinel was examined. He declared he had 
 seen an Indian approach, crawling along the ground ; where- 
 upon he had fired upon him, and run into camp. The Cap- 
 tain gave it as his opinion, that the supposed Indian was a 
 wolf ; he reprimanded the sentinel for deserting his post, and 
 obliged him to return to it. Many seemed inclined to give 
 credit to the story of the sentinel ; for the events of the day 
 had predisposed them to apprehend lurking foes and sudden 
 assaults during the darkness of the night. For a long time 
 they sat round their fires, with rifle in hand, carrying on low, 
 murmuring conversations, and listening for some new alarm. 
 Nothing further, however, occurred; the voices gradually died 
 away ; the gossipers nodded and dozed, and sunk to rest ; and, 
 by degrees, silence and sleep once more stole over the camp. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 BEAVER DAM. BUFFALO AND HORSE TRACKS. — A PAWNEE 
 
 TRAIL. — Vv^ILD HORSES. — THE YOUNG HUNTER AND THE BEAR. 
 
 — CHANGE OF ROUTE. 
 
 On mustering our forces in the morning (October 23d), old 
 Ryan and his comrade were still missing ; but the Captain had 
 such perfect reliance on the skill and resources of the veteran 
 woodsman, that he did not think it necessary to take any 
 measures with respect to hun. 
 
 Our march this day lay through the same kind of rough 
 rolling country ; checkered by brown dreary forests of post- 
 oak, and cut up by deep dry ravines. The distant fires were 
 evidently increasing on the prairies. The wind had been at 
 northwest for several days ; and the atmosphere had become 
 30 smoky, as in the height of Indian summer, that it was diffi- 
 cult to distinguish objects at any distance. 
 
 In the course of the morning, we crossed a deep stream with 
 a complete beaver dam, above three feet high, making a large 
 pond, and doubtless containing several families of that indus- 
 trious animal, though not one showed his nose above water. 
 The Captain would not permit tliis amphibious commonwealth 
 to be disturbed. 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 87 
 
 We were now continually coming upon the tracks of buf- 
 faloes and wild horses ; those of the former tended invariably 
 to the south, as we could perceive by the direction of the tram- 
 pled grass. It was evident we were on the great highway of 
 these migratory herds, but that they had cliiefly passed to the 
 southward. 
 
 Beatte, who generally kept a parallel course several hundred 
 yards distant from our line of march, to be on the lookout for 
 game, and who regarded every track with the knowing eye 
 of an Indian, reported that he had come upon a very suspi- 
 cious trail. There were the tracks of men who wore Pawnee 
 moccasons. He had scented the smoke of mingled sumach and 
 tobacco, such as the Indians use. He had observed tracks of 
 horses, mingled with those of a dog ; and a mark in the dust 
 where a cord had been trailed along; probably the long bridle, 
 one end of which the Indian horsemen suffer to trail on the 
 ground. It was evident, they were not the tracks of wild 
 horses. My anxiety began to revive about the safely of our 
 veteran hunter Ryan, for I had taken a great fancy to this 
 real old Leatherstocking; every one expressed a confidence, 
 however, that wherever Ryan was, he was safe, and knew 
 how to take care of himself. 
 
 We had accomplished the greater part of a weary day’s 
 march, and were passing through a glade of the oak openings, 
 when we came in sight of six wild horses, among which I 
 especially noticed two very handsome ones, a gray and a roan. 
 They pranced about, with heads erect, and long flaunting tails, 
 offering a proud contrast to our poor, spiritless, travel-tired 
 steeds. Having reconnoitred us for a moment, they set off 
 at a gallop, passed through a woody dingle, and in a little 
 while emerged once more to view, trotting up a slope about 
 a mile distant. 
 
 The sight of these horses was again a sore trial to the vapor- 
 ing Tonish, who had his lariat and forked stick ready, and was 
 on the point of launching forth in pursuit, on his jaded horse, 
 when he was aga.in ordered back to the pack-horses. After a 
 day’s journey of fourteen miles in a southwest direction, we 
 encamped on the banks of a small clear stream, on the north- 
 ern border of the Cross Timber; and on the edge of those 
 vast prairies, that extend away to the foot of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains. In turning loose the horses to graze, their bells were 
 stuffed with grass to prevent their tinkling, lest it might ba 
 hoard by some waxidering horde of PawneeSe 
 
88 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 Our hunters now went out in different directions, but with* 
 out much success, as hut one deer was brought into the camp. 
 A. young ranger had a long story to tell of his adventures. In 
 skirting the thickets of a deep ravine he had wounded a buck, 
 which he plainly heard to fall among the bushes. He stopped 
 to fix the lock of his rifle, which was out of order, and to reload 
 it ; then advancing to the edge of the thicket, in quest of his 
 game, he heard a low growling. Putting the branches aside, 
 and stealing silently forward, he looked down into the ravine 
 and beheld a huge bear dragging the carcass of the deer along 
 the dry channel of a brook, and growling and snarling at four 
 or five officious wolves, who seemed to have dropped in to take 
 supper with him. 
 
 The ranger fired at the bear, but missed him. Bruin main- 
 tained his ground and his prize, and seemed disposed to make 
 battle. The wolves, too, who were evidently sharp set, drew 
 off to but a small distance. As night was coming on, the 
 young hunter felt dismayed at the wildness and darkness of 
 the place, and the strange company he had fallen in with ; so 
 he quietly withdrew, and returned empty handed to the camp, 
 where, having told his story, he was heartily bantered by his 
 more experienced comrades. 
 
 In the course of the evening, old Eyan came straggling into 
 the camp, followed by his disciple, and as usual was received 
 with hearty gratulations. He had lost himself yesterday, when 
 hunting, and camped out aU night, but had found our trail in 
 the morning, and followed it up. He had passed some time at 
 the beaver dam, admiring the skill and solidity with which it 
 had been constructed. ‘‘These beavers,” said he, “ are indus- 
 trious little fellows. They are the knowingest varment as I 
 know; and I warrant the pond was stocked with them.” 
 
 “Aye,” said the Captain, “I have no doubt most of the 
 small rivers we have passed are full of beaver. I would like 
 to come and trap on these waters all winter.” 
 
 “ But would you not run the chance of being attacked by 
 Indians?” asked one of the company. 
 
 “Oh, as to that, it would be safe enough here, in the winter 
 time. There would be no Indians here until spring. I should 
 want no more than two companions. Three persons are safer 
 than a large number for trapping beaver. They can keep 
 quiet, and need seldom fire a gun. A bear would serve them 
 for food, for two months, taking care to turn every part of it 
 to advantage.” » 
 
A TOUR ON TUE PRAIRIES. 
 
 89 
 
 A consultation was now held as to our future progress. We 
 had thus far pursued a western course ; and, having traversed 
 the Gross Timber, were on the skirts of the Great Western 
 Prairie. We were still, however, in a very rough country, 
 where food was scarce. The season was so far advanced that 
 the grass was withered, and the prairies yielded no pasturage. 
 The pea-vines of the bottoms, also, which had sustained our 
 horses for some part of the journey, were nearly gone, and for 
 several days past the poor animals had fallen off wofully both 
 in flesh asnd spirit. The Indian fires on the prairies were 
 approaching us from north, and south, and west ; they might 
 spread also from the east, and leave a scorched desert between 
 us and the frontier, in which our horses might be famished. 
 
 It was determined, therefore, to advance no further to the 
 westward, but to shape our course more to the east, so as to 
 strike the north fork of the Canadian, as soon as possible, where 
 we hoped to find abundance of young cane, which, at this sea- 
 son of the year, affords the most nutritious pasturage for the 
 horses ; and, at the same time, attracts immense quantities of 
 game. Here then we fixed the limits of our tour to the Far 
 West, being within httle more than a day’s march of the boun- 
 dary line of Texas. 
 
 [CHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 SCARCITY OF BREAD.— RENCONTRE WITH BUFFALOES. — WILD TUR- 
 KEYS.— FALL OF A BUFFALO BULL. 
 
 The morning broke bright and clear, but the camp had noth-- 
 ing of its usual gayety. The concert of the farmyard was at 
 an end ; not a cock crew, nor dog barked ; nor was there either 
 singing or laughing; every one pursued his avocations quietly 
 and gravely. The novelty of the expedition was wearing off. 
 Some of the young men were getting as way-worn as their 
 horses ; and most of them, unaccustomed to the hunter’s life, 
 began to repine at its privations. What they most felt was 
 the want of bread, their rations of flour having been exliausted 
 for several days. The old hunters, who had often experienced 
 this want, made light of it; and Beatte, accustomed when 
 among the Indians to live for months without it, considered it 
 a mere article of luxury. “Bread,” he would say scornfully, 
 “is only fit for a child.” 
 
90 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRzMRIES. 
 
 About a quarter before eight o’clock, we turned our backs 
 upon the Far West, and set off in a southeast course, along a 
 gentle valley. After riding a few miles, Beatte, who kept 
 parallel with us, along the ridge of a naked hill to our right, 
 called out and made signals, as if something were coming 
 round the hill to intercept us. Some who were near me cried 
 out that it v/as a party of Pav/nees. A skirt of thickets hid 
 the approach of the supposed enemy from our view. We 
 heard a trampling among the brushwood. My hoi*se looked 
 toward the place, snorted and pricked up his ears, when pres- 
 ently a couple of large buffalo bulls, who had been alarmed by 
 Beatte, came crashing through the brake, and making directly 
 toward us. At sight of us they wheeled round, and scuttled 
 along a narrow defile of the hiU. In an instant half a score 
 of rifles cracked off ; there was a universal whoop and halloo, 
 and away went half the troop, helter-skelter in pursuit, and 
 myself among the number. The most of us soon pulled up, 
 and gave over a chase which led through birch and brier, and 
 break-neck ravines. Some few of the rangers persisted for 
 a time; but eventually joined the line, slowly lagging one 
 after another. One of them returned on foot; he had been 
 thrown while in full chase ; his rifle had been broken in the 
 fall, and his horse, retaining the spirit of the rider, had kept 
 on after the buffalo. It was a melancholy predicament to be 
 reduced to; without horse or weapon in the midst of the 
 Pawnee hunting grounds. 
 
 For my own part, I had been fortunate enough recently, by 
 a further exchange, to get possession of the best horse in the 
 troop; a full-blooded sorrel of excellent bottom, beautiful 
 form, and most generous qualities. 
 
 In such a situation it almost seems as if a man changes his 
 nature with his horse. I felt quite like another being, now 
 that I had an animal under me, spirited yet gentle, docile to 
 a remarkable degree, and easy, elastic, and rapid in all his 
 movements. In a few days he became almost as much at- 
 tached to me as a dog; would follow me when I dismounted,' 
 would come to mo in the morning to be noticed and caressed ; 
 and would put his muzzle between me and my book, as I sat 
 reading at the foot of a tree. The feeling I had for this my 
 dumb companion of the prairies, gave me some faint idea of 
 that attachment the Arab is said to entertain for the horse 
 that has borne him about the deserts. 
 
 After riding a few miles further, we came to a fine meadow 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 91 
 
 with a broad clear stream winding through it, on the banks of 
 which there was excellent pasturage. Here we at once came 
 to a halt, in a beautiful grove of elms, on the site of an old 
 Osage encampment. Scarcely had we dismounted, when a 
 universal firing of rifles took place upon a large flock of tur- 
 keys, scattered about the grove, which proved to be a favorite 
 roosting-place for these simple birds. They flew to the trees, 
 and sat perched upon their branches, stretching out their long 
 necks, and gazing in stupid astonishment, until eighteen of 
 them were shot down. 
 
 In the height of the carnage, word was brought that there 
 were four buffaloes in a neighboring meadow. The turkeys 
 were now abandoned for nobler game. The tired horses were 
 again mounted, and urged to the chase. In a little vHiile we 
 came in sight of the buffaloes, looking like brown hillocks 
 among the long green herbage. Beatte endeavored to get 
 ahead of them and turn them towards us, that the inexpen- 
 enced hunters might have a chance. They ran round the base 
 of a rocky hill, that hid us from the sight. Some of us en- 
 deavored to cut across the hill, but became entrapped in a 
 thick wood, matted with grape-vines. My horse, who, imder 
 his former rider, had hunted the buffalo, seemed as much 
 excited as myself, and endeavored to force his way through 
 the bushes. At length we extricated ourselves, and galloping 
 over the hill^ I found our little Frenchman, Tonish, curvetting 
 on horseback round a great buffalo which he had wounded too 
 severely to fly, and which he was keeping employed until we 
 should come up. There was a mixture of the grand and the 
 comic, in beholding this tremendous animal and his fantastic 
 assailant. The buffalo stood with his shaggy front always 
 presented to his foe ; his mouth open, his tongue parched, his 
 eyes like coals of fire, and his tail erect with rage ; every now 
 and then he would make a faint rush upon his foe, who easily 
 evaded his attack, capering and cutting all kinds of antics 
 before him. 
 
 • We now made repeated shots at the buffalo, but they 
 glanced into his mountain of flesh without proving mortal. 
 He made a slow and grand retreat into the shallow river, 
 turning upon his assailants whenever they pressed upon him ; 
 and when in the Avater, took his stand there as if prepared to 
 sustain a siege. A rifle-ball, however, more fatally lodged, 
 sent a tremor through his frame. He turned and attempted 
 to wade across the stream, but after tottering a few paces^, 
 
92 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 slowly fell upon his side and expired. It was the fall of a hero, 
 and we felt somewhat ashamed of the butchery that had 
 effected it ; but, after the first shot or two, we had reconciled 
 ifc to our feelings, by the old plea of putting the poor animal 
 out of his miseiy. 
 
 Two other buffaloes were killed this evening, but they were 
 all bulls, the flesh of which is meagre and hard, at this season 
 of the year. A fat buck yielded us more savory meat for our 
 evening’s repast. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 RINGING THE WILD HORSE. 
 
 We left the buffalo camp about eight o’clock, and had a 
 toilsome and harassing march of two hours, over ridges of 
 hills, covered with a ragged meagre forest of scrub-oaks, and 
 broken by deep gullies. Among the oaks I observed many of 
 the most diminutive size; some not above a foot high, yet 
 bearing abundance of small acorns. The whole of the Cross 
 Timber, in fact, abounds with mast. There is a pine-oak which 
 produces an acorn pleasant to the taste, and ripening early in 
 the season. 
 
 About ten o’clock in the morning, we came to where this line 
 of rugged hills swept down into a valley, through which flowed 
 the north fork of the Red River. A beautiful meadow about 
 half a mile wide, enamelled with yellow autumnal flowers, 
 stretched for two or three miles along the foot of the hills, 
 bordered on the opposite side by the river, whose banks were 
 fringed with cottonwood trees, the bright foliage of which re- 
 freshed and dehghted the eye, after being wearied by the con- 
 templation of monotonous wastes of brown forest. 
 
 The meadow was flnely diversified by groves and clumps of 
 trees, so happily dispersed, that they seemed as if set out by 
 the hand of art. As we cast our eyes over this fresh and de- 
 lightful valley, we beheld a troop of wild horses, quietly graz 
 ing on a green lawn, about a mile distant to our right, while to 
 our left, at nearly the same distance, were several buffaloes ; 
 some feeding, others reposing and ruminating among the high 
 rich herbage, under the shade of a clump of cottonwood trees. 
 The whole had the appearance of a broad beautiful tract of 
 pasture land, on the highly oiTiameuted estate of some gentle' 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 93 
 
 man farmerj, with his cattle grazing about the lawns and mea 
 dows. 
 
 A council of war was now held, and it was determined to 
 profit by the present favorable opportunity, and try our hand 
 at the grand hunting manoeuvre, which is called ringing the 
 wild horse. This requires a large party of horsemen, well 
 mounted. They extend themselves in each direction, singly, 
 at certain distances apart, and gradually form a ring of two or 
 three miles in circumference, so as to surround the game. This 
 has to be done with extreme care, for the wild horse is the 
 most readily alarmed inhabitant of the prairie, and.can scent a 
 hunter at a great distance, if to windward. 
 
 The ring being formed, two or three ride toward the horses, 
 who start off in an opposite direction. Whenever they ap- 
 proach the bounds of the ring, however, a huntsman presents 
 himself and turns them from their course. In this way, they 
 are checked and driven back at every point ; and kept gallop- 
 ing round and round this ma.gic circle, until, being completely 
 tired down, it is easy for the hunters to ride up beside them, 
 and throw the lariat over their heads. The prime horses of 
 most speed, courage, and bottom, however, are apt to break 
 through and escape, so that, in general, it is the second-rate 
 horses that are taken. 
 
 Preparations were now made for a hunt of the kind. The 
 pack-horses were taken into the woods and firmly tied to trees, 
 lest, in a rush of the wild horses, they should break away with 
 them. Twenty-five men were then sent under the command 
 of a lieutenant, to steal along the edge of the vaUey within the 
 strip of wood that skirted the hiUs. They were to station 
 themselves about fifty yards apart, within the edge of the 
 woods, and not advance or show themselves until the horses 
 dashed in that direction. Twenty-five men were sent across 
 the valley, to steal in like manner along the river bank that 
 bordered the opposite side, and to station themselves among 
 the trees. A third party, of about the same number, was to 
 form a line, stretching across the lower part of the vaUey, so 
 as to connect the two wings. Beatte and our other half-breed, 
 Antoine, together with the ever-ofiicious Tonish, were to make 
 a circuit through the woods so as to get to the upper part of 
 the valley, in the rear of the horses, and to drive them forward 
 into the kind of sack that we had formed, while the two wings 
 should join behind them and make a complete circle. 
 
 The flanking parties were quietly extending themselves, out 
 
94 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 of sight, on each side of the valley, and the residue were 
 stretching themselves, like the links of a chain, across it, when 
 the wild horses gave signs that they scented an enemy ; snuf- 
 fing the air, snorting, and looking about. At length they 
 pranced off slowly toward the river, and disappeared behind a 
 green hank. Here, had the regulations of the chase been ob» 
 served, they would have been quietly checked and turned back 
 by the advance of a hunter from among the trees ; unluckily, 
 however, we had our wild-fire Jack-o’-lantern little Frenchman 
 to deal with. Instead of keeping quietly up the right side of 
 the valley, to get above the horses, the moment he saw them 
 move tovfard the river, he broke out of the covert of woods, 
 and dashed furiously across the plain in pursuit of them, being 
 mounted on one of the led horses belonging to the Count. This 
 put an end to all system. The half-breeds and half a score of 
 rangers joined in the chase. Away they all went over the 
 green bank ; in a moment or two the wild horses reappeared, 
 and came thundering down the valley, with Frenchman, half- 
 breeds, and rangers galloping and yeUing like devils behind 
 them. It was in vain that the line drawn across the valley at- 
 tempted to check and turn back the fugitives. They were too 
 hotly pressed by their pursuers; in their panic they dashed 
 through the line, and clattered down the plain. The whole 
 troop joined in the headlong chase, some of the rangers with- 
 out hats or caps, their hair flying about their ears, others with 
 handkerchiefs tied round their heads. The buffaloes, who had 
 been calmly ruminating among the herbage, heaved up their 
 huge forms, gazed for a moment with astonishment at the 
 tempest that came scouring down the meadow, then turned 
 and took to heavy-rolling flight. They were soon overtaken ; 
 the promiscuous throng were pressed together by the contract- 
 ing sides of the valley, and away they went, pell-mell, hurry- 
 scurry, wild buffalo, wild horse, wild huntsman, with clang 
 and clatter, and whoop and halloo, that made the forests ring. 
 
 At length the buffaloes turned into a green brake on the 
 river bank, while the horses dashed up a narrow defile of the 
 hills, with their pursuers close at their heels. Beatte passed 
 several of them, having fixed his eye upon a fine Pawnee horse, 
 that had his ears slit, and saddle-marks upon his back. Ho 
 pressed him gallantly, but lost him in the woods. Among the 
 wild horses was a fine black mare, far gone with foal. In 
 scrambling up the defile, she tripped and fell. A young ranger 
 sprang from his horse, and seized her by the mane and muzzle. 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 95 
 
 Another ranger dismounted, and came to his assistance. The 
 mare struggled fiercely, kicking and biting, and. striking with 
 her fore feet, but a noose was slipped over her head, and her 
 struggles were in vain. It was some time, however, before 
 she gave over rearing and plunging, and lashing out with her 
 feet on every side. The two rangers then led her along the 
 valley by two long lariats, which enabled them to keep at a 
 sufficient distance on each side to be out of the reach of her 
 hoofs, and whenever she struck out in one direction, she was 
 jerked in the other. In this way her spirit was gradually sub- 
 dued. 
 
 As to little Scaramouch Tonish, who had marred the whole 
 scene by his precipitancy, heffiad been more successful than he 
 deserved, having managed to catch a beautiful cream-colored 
 colt, about seven months old, which had not strength to keep 
 up with its companions. The mercurial little Frenchman was 
 beside himself with exultation. It was amusing to see him 
 with his prize. The colt would rear and kick, and struggle to 
 get free, when Tonish would take him about the neck, wrestle 
 with him, jump on his back, and cut as many antics as a mon- 
 key with a kitten. Nothing surprised me more, however, than 
 to witness how soon these poor animals, thus taken from the 
 unbounded freedom of the prairie, yielded to the dominion of 
 man. In the course of two or three days the mare and colt 
 went with the led horses, and became quite docile. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 FORDING OF THE NORTH FORK.— DREARY SCENERY OF THE CROSS 
 TIMBER.— SCAMPER OP HORSES IN THE NIGHT.— OSAGE WAR 
 PARTY.— EFFECTS OF A PEACE HARANGUE. —BUFFALO. — WILD 
 HORSE. 
 
 Eesuming our march, we forded the North Fork, a rapid 
 stream, and of a purity seldom to be found in the rivers of the 
 prairies. It evidently had its sources in high land, weU sup- 
 plied with springs. After crossing the river, we again as- 
 cended among hills, from one of which we had an extensive 
 view over tliis belt of cross timber, and a cheerless prospect it 
 was ; hill beyond hill, forest beyond forest, all of one sad rus- 
 set hue— excepting that here and there a line of green cotton- 
 
96 
 
 A TOm OK THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 wood trees, sycamores, and willows, marked the course of 
 some streamlet through a valley. A procession of buffaloes, 
 moving slowly up the profile of one of those distant hills, 
 formed a characteristic object in the savage scene. To the 
 left, the eye stretched beyond this rugged wilderness of hills, 
 and ravines, and ragged forests, to a prairie about ten miles 
 off, extending in a clear blue line along the horizon. It was 
 like looking from among rocks and breakers upon a distant 
 tract of tranquil ocean. Unluckily, our route did not lie in 
 that direction ; we still had to traverse many a weary mile of 
 the cross timber.” 
 
 We encamped toward evening in a valley, beside a scanty 
 pool, under a scattered grove of elms, the upper branches of 
 which were fringed with tufts of the mystic mistletoe. In the 
 course of the night, the wild colt whinnied repeatedly; and 
 about two hours before day, there was a sudden stampedo, or 
 rush of horses, along the purlieus of the camp, with a snorting 
 and neighing, and clattering of hoofs, that startled most of the 
 rangers from their sleep, who listened in silence, until the 
 sound died away like the rushing of a blast. As usual, the 
 noise was at first attributed to some party of marauding In- 
 dians, but as the day dawned, a couple of wild horses were 
 seen in a neighboring meadow, which scoured off on being 
 approached. It was now supposed that a gang of them had 
 dashed through our camp in the night. A general mustering 
 of our horses took place, many were found scattered to a con- 
 siderable distance, and several were not to be found. The 
 prints of their hoofs, however, appeared deeply dinted in the 
 soil, leading off at full speed into the waste, and their owners, 
 putting themselves on the trail, set off in weary search of 
 them. 
 
 We had a ruddy daybreak, but the morning gathered up 
 gray and lowering, with indications of an autumnal storm. 
 We resumed our march silently and seriously, through a 
 rough and cheerless country, from the highest points of which 
 we could descry large prairies, stretching indefinitely west- 
 ward. After travelling for two or three hours, as we were tra- 
 versing a withered prairie, resembhng a great brown heath, 
 we beheld seven Osage warriors approaching at a distance. 
 The sight of any human being in this lonely wilderness was 
 interesting; it was like speaking a ship at sea. One of the In- 
 dians took the lead of his companions, and advanced toward 
 us with head erect, chest thrown forward, and a free and noble 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 07 
 
 mien. He was a fine-looking fellow, dressed in scarlet frocl: 
 and fringed leggings of deer skin. His head was decorated 
 v/ith a white tuft, and he stepped forward with something of a 
 martial air, swaying his bow and arrows in one hand. 
 
 We held some conversation with him through our inter^ 
 preter, Beatte, and found that he and his companions had been 
 with the main part of their tribe hunting the buffalo, and 
 had met with great success ; and he informed us, that in the 
 course of another day’s march, we would reach the prairies on 
 the banks of the Grand Canadian, and find plenty of game. 
 He added, that as their hunt was over, and the hunters on 
 their return homeward, he and his comrades had set out on a 
 war party, to waylay and hover about some Pawnee camp, in 
 hopes of carrying off scalps or horses. 
 
 By this time his companions, who at first stood aloof, joined 
 him. Three of them had indifferent fowling-pieces; the rest 
 were armed with bows and arrows. I could not but admire 
 the finely shaped heads and busts of these savages, and their 
 graceful attitudes and expressive gestures, as they stood con- 
 versing with our interpreter, and surrounded by a cavalcade 
 of rangers. We endeavored to get one of them to join us, as 
 we were desirous of seeing him hunt the buffalo with his bow 
 and arrow. He seemed at first inclined to do so, but was dis- 
 suaded by his companions. 
 
 The worthy Commissioner now remembered his mission as 
 pacificator, and made a speech, exhorting them to abstain 
 from all offensive acts against the Pawnees ; informing them 
 of the plan of their father at Washington, to put an end to all 
 war among his red children ; and assming them that he was 
 sent to the frontier to establish a universal peace. He told 
 them, therefore, to return quietly to their homes, with the cer- 
 tainty that the Pawnees would no longer molest them, but 
 would soon regard them as brothers. 
 
 The Indians listened to the speech with their customary 
 silence and decorum; after which, exchanging a few words 
 among themselves, they bade us farewell, and pursued their 
 way across the prairie. 
 
 Fancying that I saw a lurking smile in the countenance of 
 our interpreter, Beatte, I privately inquired wdiat the Indians 
 had said to each other after hearing the speech. The leader, 
 he said, had observed to his compamions, that, as their great 
 father intended so soon to put an end to all warfare, it be- 
 hooved them, to make the most of the little time that was left 
 
98 
 
 A TOUB ON THE PllAIBIES. 
 
 them. So they had departed, with redoubled zeal, to pursue 
 their project of horse-stealing ! 
 
 We had not long parted from the Indians before we dis- 
 covered three buffaloes among the thickets of a marshy valley 
 to our left. I set off with the Captain and several rangers, in 
 pursuit of them. Stealing through a straggling grove, the 
 Captain, who took the lead, got within rifle-shot, and wounded 
 one of them in the flank. They all three made of in headlong 
 panic, through thickets and brushwood, and swamp and mire, 
 bearing down every obstacle by their immense weight. The 
 Captain and rangers soon gave up a chase which threatened 
 to knock up their horses; I had got upon the traces of the 
 wounded bull, however, and was in hopes of getting near 
 enough to use my pistols, the only weapons with which I was 
 provided ; but before I could effect it, he reached the foot of a 
 rocky hill, covered with post-oak and brambles, and plunged 
 forward, dashing and crashing along, with neck or nothing 
 fury, where it would have been madness to have followed 
 him. 
 
 The chase had led me so far on one side, that it was some 
 time before I regained the trail of our troop. As I was slowly 
 ascending a hill, a fine black naare came prancing round the 
 summit, and was close to me before she was aware. At sight 
 of me she started back, then turning, sv^ept at full speed down 
 into the valley, and up the opposite hiU, with flowing mane 
 and tail, and action free as air. I gazed after her as long as 
 she was in sight, and breathed a wish that so glorious an 
 animal might never come under the degrading thraldom of 
 whip and curb, but remain a free rover of the prairies. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 FOUL WEATHER ENCAMPMENT. — ANECDOTES OF BEAR HUNTING.— 
 INDIAN NOTIONS ABOUT OMENS. — SCRUPLES RESPECTING THE 
 DEAD. 
 
 On overtaking the troop, I found it encamping in a rich 
 bottom of woodland, traversed by a small stream, running 
 between deep crumbling banks. A sharp cracking off of rifles 
 was kept up for some time in various directions, upon a nu- 
 merous flock of turkeys, scampering among the thickets, or 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 99 
 
 perched upon the trees. We had not been long at a halt, 
 when a drizzling rain ushered in the autumnal storm that 
 had been brewing. Preparations were immediately made to 
 weather it ; our tent was pitched, and our saddles, saddlebags, 
 packages of coffee, sugar, salt, and every thing else that could 
 be damaged by the rain, were gathered under its shelter. Our 
 men, Beatte, Tonish, and Antoine, drove stakes with forked 
 ends into the ground, laid poles across them for rafters, and 
 thus made a shed or pent-house, covered with bark and skins, 
 sloping toward the wind, and open toward tJie fire. The ran- 
 gers formed similar shelters of bark and skins, or of blankets 
 stretched on poles, supported by forked stakes, with great fires 
 in front. 
 
 These precautions were well timed. The rain set in sullenly 
 and steadily, and kept on, with slight intermissions, for two 
 days. The brook which flowed peacefully on our arrival, 
 swelled into a turbid and boiling torrent, and the forest be- 
 came little better than a mere swamp. The men gathered 
 under their shelters of skins and blankets, or sat cowering 
 round their fires ; while columns of smoke curling up among 
 the trees, and diffusing themselves in the air, spread a blue 
 haze through the woodland. Our poor, way-worn horses, 
 reduced by weary travel and scanty pasturage, lost all re- 
 maining spirit, and stood, with drooping heads, flagging ears, 
 and half -closed eyes, dozing and steaming in the rain, while 
 the yellow autumnal leaves, at every shaking of the breeze, 
 came wavering down around them. 
 
 Notwithstanding the bad v/eather, however, our hunters 
 were not idle, but during the intervals of the rain, sallied forth 
 on horseback to prowl through the woodland. Every now 
 and then the sharp report of a distant rifle boded the death of 
 a deer. Venison in abundance was brought in. Some busied 
 themselves under the sheds, flaying and cutting up the car- 
 casses, or round the fires with spits and camp kettles, and 
 a rude kind of feasting, or rather gormandizing, prevailed 
 throughout the camp. The axe was continually at work, 
 and wearied the forest with its echoes. Crash ! some mighty 
 tree would come down ; in a few minutes its limbs would be 
 blazing and crackling on the huge camp fires, with some 
 luckless deer roasting before it, that had once sported beneath 
 its shade. 
 
 The change of weather had taken sharp hold of our little 
 Frenehman, His meagre frame, composed of bones and whip- 
 
100 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 cord, was racked with rheumatic pains and twinges. He had 
 the toothache — ^the earache -his face was tied up— he had 
 shooting pains in every limb ; yet all seemed but to increase 
 his restless activity, and he was in an incessant fidget about 
 the fire, roasting, and stewing, and groaning, and scolding, 
 and swearing. 
 
 Our man Beatte returned grim and mortified, from hunting. 
 He had come upon a bear of formidable dimensions, and 
 wounded him with a rifie-shot. The bear took to the brook, 
 which was swollen and rapid. Beatte dashed in after him and 
 assailed him in the rear with his hunting-knife. At every 
 blow the bear turned furiously upon him, with a terrific dis- 
 play of white teeth. Beatte, having a foothold in the brook, 
 was enabled to push him off with his rifle, and, when he 
 turned to swim, would flounder after, and attempt to ham- 
 string him. The bear, however, succeeded in scrambling off 
 among the thickets, and Beatte had to give up the chase. 
 
 This adventure, if it produced no game, brought up at least 
 several anecdotes, round the evening fire, relative to bear 
 hunting, in which the grizzly bear figured conspicuously. 
 This powerful and ferocious animal is a favorite theme of 
 hunter’s story, both among red and white men; and his 
 enormous claws are worn round the neck of an Indian brave 
 as a trophy more honorable than a human scalp. He is now 
 scarcely seen below the upper prairies and the skirts of the 
 Eocky Mountains. Other bears are formidable when wounded 
 and provoked, but seldom make battle when allowed to escape. 
 The grizzly bear alone, of all the animals of our Western 
 wilds, is prone to unprovoked hostility. His prodigious size 
 and strength make him a formidable opponent ; and his great 
 tenacity of life often baffles the skill of the hunter, notwith- 
 standing repeated shots of the rifle, and wounds of the hunting- 
 knife. 
 
 One of the anecdotes related on this occasion, gave a picture 
 of the accidents and hard shifts to which our frontier rovers 
 are inured. A hunter, while in pursuit of a deer, feU into one 
 of those deep funnel-shaped pits, formed on the prairies by the 
 settling of the waters after heavy rains, and known by the 
 name of sink-holes. To his great horror, he came in contact, 
 at the bottom, with a huge grizzly bear. The monster gi'ap- 
 pled him ; a deadly contest ensued, in which the poor hunter 
 was severely torn and bitten, and had a leg and an arm 
 broken, but succeeded in killing his rugged foe. For several 
 
A TOUR ON THE RR AIRIES. 
 
 101 
 
 days he remained at the bottom of the pit, too much crippled 
 to move, and subsisting on the raw flesh of the bear, during 
 which time he kept his wounds open, that they might heal 
 gradually and effectually. He was at length enabled to 
 scramble to the top of the pit, and so out upon the open 
 prairie. With great difficulty he crawled to a ravine, formed 
 by a stream, then nearly dry. Here he took a delicious 
 draught of water, which infused new life into him; then 
 dragging himself along from pool to pool, he supported him- 
 self by small fish and frogs. 
 
 One day he saw a wolf hunt down and kill a deer in the 
 neighboring prairie. Ho immediately crawled forth from the 
 ravine, drove off the wolf, and, lying dov/n beside the carcass 
 of the deer, remained there until he made several hearty 
 meals, by vfliich his strength was much recruited. 
 
 Eeturning to the ravine, he pursued the course of the brook, 
 until it grew to be a considerable stream. Down this he 
 floated, until he came to v/here it emptied into the Mississippi. 
 Just at the mouth of the stream, he found a forked tree, which 
 he launched with some difficulty, and, getting astride of it, 
 committed himself to the current of the mighty river. In this 
 way he floated along, until he arrived opposite the fort at 
 Council Bluffs. Fortunately he arrived there in the daytime, 
 otherwise he might have floated, unnoticed, past this solitary 
 post, and perished in the idle waste of waters. Being descried 
 from the fort, a canoe was sent to his relief, and he was 
 brought to shore more dead than alive, where he soon re- 
 covered from his wounds, but remained maimed for life. 
 
 Our man Beatte had come out of his contest with the bear 
 very much worsted and discomfited. His drenching in the 
 brook, together with the recent change of weather, had 
 brought on rheumatic pains in his limbs, to which he is 
 subject. Though ordinarily a. fellow of undaunted spirit, 
 and above all hardship, yet he now sat down by the fire, 
 gloomy and dejected, and for once gave way to repining. 
 Though in the prime of life, and of a robust frame, and appa- 
 rently iron, constitution, yet, by his own account, he was little 
 better than a mere wreck. He was, in fact, a living monu- 
 ment of the hardships of wild frontier life. Baring his left 
 arm, he showed it warped and contracted by a former attack 
 of rheumatism; a malady Vvith which the Indians are often 
 afflicted ; for their exposure to the vicissitudes of the elements 
 does not produce that perfect hardihood and insensibility to 
 
]02 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 the changes of the seasons that many are apt to imagine. He 
 bore the scars of various maims and bruises ; some received in 
 hunting, some in Indian warfare. His right arm had been 
 broken by a fall from his horse ; at another time his steed had 
 fallen with him, and crushed his left leg. 
 
 “I am all broke to pieces and good for nothing,” said he; I 
 no care now what happen to mo any more.” “However,” 
 added he, after a moment’s pause, “for all that, it would take 
 a pretty strong man to put me down, anyhow.” 
 
 I drew from him various particulars concerning himself, 
 which served to raise him in my estimation. His residence 
 was on the Neosho, in an Osage hamlet or neighborhood, 
 under the superintendence of a worthy missionary from the 
 banks of the Hudson, by the name of Eequa, who was endea- 
 voring to instruct the savages in the art of agriculture, and to 
 make husbandmen and herdsmen of them. I had visited this 
 agricultural mission of Eequa in the course of my recent tour 
 along the frontier, and had considered it more likely to pro- 
 duce solid advantages to the poor Indians than any of the 
 mere praying and preaching missions along the border. 
 
 In this neighborhood, Pierre Beatte had his little farm, his 
 Indian wife, and his half-breed children ; and aided Mr. Eequa 
 in his endeavors to civilize the habits, and meliorate the con- 
 dition of the Osage tribe. Beatte had been brought up a 
 Catholic, and was inflexible in his religious faith ; he could not 
 pray with Mr. Eequa, he said, but he could work with him, 
 and he evinced a zeal for the good of his savage relations and 
 neighbors. Indeed, though his father had been French, and 
 he hunself had been brought up in communion with the 
 whites, he evidently was more of an Indian in his tastes, and 
 his heart yearned toward his mother’s nation. When he 
 talked to me of the wrongs and insults that the poor Indians 
 suffered in their intercourse with the rough settlers on the 
 frontiers ; when he described the precarious and degraded 
 state of the Osage tribe, diminished in numbers, broken in 
 spirit, and almost Hving on sufferance in the land where they 
 once figured so heroically, I could see his veins swell, and his 
 nostrils distend with indignation ; but he would check the feel- 
 ing with a strong exertion of Indian self-command, and, in a 
 manner, drive it back into his bosom. 
 
 He did not hesitate to relate an instance wherein he had 
 joined his kindred Osages, in pursuing and avenging them- 
 seP^es on a party of white men who had committed a flagrant 
 
A TOUR ON TllK RR AIRIES. 1()3 
 
 outrage upon them ; and I found, in the encounter that took 
 place, Beatte had shown himself the complete Indian. 
 
 He had more than once accompanied his Osage relations in 
 their wars with the Pawnees, and related a skirmish which 
 too]^ place on the borders of these very hunting grounds, in 
 which several Pawnees were killed. We should pass near the 
 place, he said, in the course of our tour, and the unburied 
 bones and skulls of the slain were still to he seen there. The 
 surgeon of the troop, who was present at our conversation, 
 pricked up his ears at this intelligince. He was something of 
 a phrenologist, and offered Beatte a handsome reward if he 
 would procure him one of the skulls. 
 
 Beatte regarded him for a moment with a look of stern sur- 
 prise. 
 
 “No!” said he at length, “ dat too bad! I have heart strong 
 enough — I no care kill, but let the dead alone r 
 
 He added, that once in travelling with a party of white men, 
 he had slept in the same tent with a doctor, and found that he 
 had a Pawnee skull among his baggage : he at once renounced 
 the doctor’s tent, and his fellowship. “He try to coax me,” 
 said Beatte, ‘‘but I say no, we must part— I no keep such 
 company.” 
 
 In the temporary depression of his spirits, Beatte gave way 
 to those superstitious forebodings to which Indians are prone. 
 He had sat for some time, with his cheek upon his hand, 
 gazing into the fire. I found his thoughts were wandering 
 back to his humble home, on the banks of the Neosho; he was 
 sure, he said, that he should find some one of his family ill, or 
 dead, on his return: his left eye had twitched and twinl^fed 
 for two days past; an omen which abvays boded some misfor- 
 tune of the kind. 
 
 Such are the trivial circumstances which, when magnified 
 into omens, will shake the souls of these men of iron. The 
 least sign of mystic and sinister portent is sufficient to turn a 
 hunter or a warrior from his course, or to fill his mind with 
 apprehensions of impending evil. It is this superstitious pro- 
 pensity, common to the solitary and savage rovers of the 
 wilderness, that gives such powerful influence to the prophet 
 and the dreamer. 
 
 The Osages, with whom Beatte had passed much of his life, 
 retain these superstitious fancies and rites in much of their 
 original force. They aU believe in the existence of the soul 
 after its separation from the body, and that it carries with it 
 
• 04 
 
 A TOUR ON THE m A HUES. 
 
 ill its mortal tastes and habitudes. At an Osage village in the 
 neighborhood ot Beatte, one of the chief warriors lost an only 
 child, a beautiful girl, of a very tender age. All her playthings 
 were buried with her. Her favorite little horse, also, was 
 killed, and laid in the grave beside her, that she might have it 
 to ride in the land of spirits. 
 
 I will here add a little story, which I picked up in the course 
 of my tour through Beatte’s country, and which illustrates the 
 superstitions of his Osage kindred. A large party of Osages 
 had been encamped for some time on the borders of a fine 
 stream, called the Nickanansa. Among them was a young 
 hunter, one of the bravest and most graceful of the tribe, who 
 was to be married to an Osage girl, who, for her beauty, was 
 called the Flower of the Prairies. The young hunter left her 
 for a time among her relatives in the encampment, and went 
 to St. Louis, to dispose of the products of his hunting, and 
 purchase ornaments for his bride. After an absence of some 
 weeks, he returned to the banks of the Nickanansa, but the 
 camp was no longer there; and the bare frames of the lodges 
 and the brands of extinguished fires alone marked the place. 
 At a distance he beheld a female seated, as if weeping, by the 
 side of the stream. It was his affianced bride. He ran to em- 
 brace her, but she turned mournfully away. He dreaded lest 
 some evil had befaUen the camp. 
 
 Where are our people?” cried he. 
 
 “ They are gone to the banks of the Wagrushka.” 
 
 “ And what art thou doing here alone?” 
 
 “ Waiting for thee.” 
 
 Then let us hasten to join our people on the banks of the 
 Wagimshka.” 
 
 He gave her his pack to carry, and walked ahead, according 
 to the Indian custom. 
 
 They came to where the smoke of the distant camp was seen 
 rising from the woody margin of the stream. The girl seated 
 herself at the foot of a tree. ‘ ‘ It is not proper for us to return 
 together,” said she; “ I will wait here.” 
 
 The young hunter proceeded to the camp alone, and was re« 
 ceived by his relations with gloomy countenances. 
 
 “What evil has happened,” said he, “that ye are all so 
 sad?” 
 
 No one replied. 
 
 He turned to his favorite sister, and bade her go forth, seek 
 his bride, and conduct her to the camp. 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 105 
 
 Alas!” cried she, ‘‘how shall I seek her? She died a few 
 days since.” 
 
 The relations of the young girl now surrounded him, weep- 
 ing and wailing; but he refused to believe the dismal tidings. 
 “But a few moments since,” cried he, “I left her alone and in 
 health; come with me, and I will conduct you to her.” 
 
 He led the way to the tree where she had seated herself, but 
 : ho was no longer there, and his pack lay on the ground. The 
 I'atal truth struck him to the heart ; he fell to the ground dead. 
 
 I give this simple story almost in the words in wliich it was 
 related to me, as I lay by the fire in an evening encampment 
 on the banks of the haunted stream where it is said to have 
 happened. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 A SECRET EXPEDITION. — DEER BLEATING. — MAGIC BALLS. 
 
 On the following morning we were rejoined by the rangers 
 who had remained at the last encampment, to seek for the 
 stray horses. They had tracked them for a considerable dis- 
 tance through bush and brake, and across streams, until they 
 found them cropping the herbage on the edge of a prairie. 
 Their heads were in the direction of the fort, and they were 
 evidently grazing their way homeward, heedless of the un- 
 bounded freedom of the prairie so suddenly laid open to them. 
 
 About noon the weather held up, and I observed a mysteri- 
 ous consultation going on between our half-breeds and Tonish ; 
 it ended in a request that we would dispense with the services 
 of the latter for a few hours, and permit him to join his com- 
 rades in a grand foray. We objected that Tonish was too 
 much disabled by aches and pains for such an undertaking; 
 but he was wild with eagerness for the mysterious enterprise, 
 and, when permission was given him, seemed to forget all his 
 ailments in an instant. 
 
 In a short time the trio were equipped and on horseback ; 
 with rifles on their shoulders and handkerchiefs twisted round 
 their heads, evidently bound for a grand scamper. As they 
 passed by the different lodges of the camp, the vainglorious 
 little Frenchman could not help boasting to the right and left 
 of the great things he was about to acliieve ; though the taci- 
 turn Beatte, who rode in advance, would every now and then 
 
106 
 
 A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 
 
 check his horse, and look back at him with an air of stern re- 
 buke. It was hard, however, to make the loquacious Tonish 
 play ‘^Indian.” 
 
 Several of the hunters, likewise, sallied forth, and the prime 
 old woodman, Ryan, came back early in the afternoon, with 
 ample spoil, having killed a buck and two fat does. I drew 
 near to a group of rangers that had gathered round him as he 
 stood by the spoil, and found they were discussing the merits 
 of a stratagem sometimes used in deer huntmg. This consists 
 in imitating, with a small instrument called a bleat, the cry of 
 the fawn, so as to lure the doe within reach of the rifle. There 
 are bleats of various kinds, suited to calm or windy weather, 
 and to the age of the fawn. The poor animal, deluded by 
 them, in its anxiety about its young, will sometimes advance 
 close up to the hunter. “ I once bleated a doe,” said a young 
 hunter, “until it came within twenty yards of me, and pre- 
 sented a sure mark. I levelled my rifle three times, but had 
 not the heart to shoot, for the poor doe looked so wistfully, 
 that it in a manner made my heart yearn. I thought of my 
 own mother, and how anxious she used to be about me when I 
 was a. child ; so to put an end to the matter, I gave a halloo, 
 and started the doe out of rifle-shot in a moment.” 
 
 “And you did right,” cried honest old Ryan. “ For my part, 
 
 I never could bring myself to bleating deer. I’ve been with 
 hunters who had bleats, and have made them throw them 
 away. It is a rascally trick to ta-ke advantage of a mother’s 
 love for her young.” 
 
 Toward evening our three worthies returned from their 
 mysterious foray. The tongue of Tonish gave notice of their 
 approach long before they came in sight ; for he was vocifer- 
 ating at the top of his lungs, and rousing the attention of the 
 whole camp. The lagging gait and reeking flanks of their 
 horses, gave evidence of hard riding; and, on nearer approach, 
 we found them hung round with meat like a butcher’s sham- ’ 
 bles. In fact, they had been scouring an immense prairie that 
 extended beyond the forest, and which was covered with herds 
 of buffalo. Of this prairie, and the animals upon it, Beatte 
 had received intelligence a few days before, in his conversation 
 with the Osages, but had kept the information a secret from 
 the rangers, that he and his comrades might have the first dash 
 at the game. They had contented themselves with killing four; 
 though, if Tonish might be believed, they might have slain 
 them by scores. 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 107 
 
 These tidings, and the buffalo meat brought home in evi- 
 dence, spread exultation through the camp, and every one 
 looked forward with joy to a biiffalo hunt on the prairies. 
 Tonish was again the oracle of the camp, and held forth by the 
 hour to a knot of listeners;^ crouched round the fire, with their 
 shoulders up to their ears. He was now more boastful than 
 ever of his skill as a marksman. All his want of success in the 
 early part of our march he attributed to being ‘‘out of luck,” 
 if not “spell-bound;” and finding himself listened to with ap- 
 parent credulity, gave an instance of the kind, which he de- 
 clared had happened to himself, but which was evidently a 
 tale picked up among his relations, the Osages. 
 
 According to this account, when about fourteen years of age, 
 as he was one day hunting, he saw a white deer come out from 
 a ravine. Crawling hear to get a shot, he beheld another and 
 another come forth, until there Avere seven, all as Avhite as 
 snow. Having crept sufficiently near, he singled one out and 
 fired, but without effect; the deer remained unfrightened. He 
 loaded and fired again and missed. Thus he continued firing 
 and missing until all his ammunition was expended, and the 
 deer remained without a wound. He returned home despair- 
 ing of his skill as a marksman, but was consoled by an old 
 Osage hunter. These Avhite deer, said he, have a charmed life, 
 and can only be killed by bullets of a particular kind. 
 
 The old Indian cast several balls for Tonish, but would not 
 suffer him to be present on the occasion, nor inform him of the 
 ingredients and mystic ceremonials. 
 
 Provided with these balls, Tonish again set out in quest of 
 the Avhite deer, and succeeded in finding them. He tried at 
 first with ordinary balls, but missed as before. A magic ball, 
 however, immediately brought a fine buck to the ground. 
 Whereupon the rest of the herd immediately disappeared and 
 were never seen again. 
 
 October 29th. — The morning opened gloomy and loAvering; 
 but toward eight o’clock the sun struggled forth and lighted 
 up the forest, and the notes of the bugle gave signal to pre- 
 pare for marching. Now began a scene of bustle, and clamor, 
 and gayety. Some were scampering and brawling after 
 their horses, some were riding in bare-backed, and driAung 
 in the horses of their comrades. Some were stripping the 
 poles of the wet blankets that had served for shelters ; others 
 packing up with all possible dispatch, and loading the bag- 
 gage horses as they arrived; while others Avere cracking off 
 
108 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 their damp rifles and charging them afresh, to be ready for 
 the sport. 
 
 About ten o’clock, we began our march. I loitered in the 
 rear of the troop as it forded the turbid brook, and defiled 
 through the labyrinths of the forest. I always felt disposed to 
 linger imtil the last straggler disappeared among the trees and 
 the distant note of the bugle died upon the ear, that I might 
 behold the wilderness relapsing into silence and solitude. In 
 the Resent instance, the deserted scene of our late bustling en- 
 campment had a forlorn and desolate appearance. The sur- 
 rounding forest had been in many places trampled into a quag- 
 mire. Trees felled and partly hewn in pieces, and scattered in 
 huge fragments ; tent-poles stripped of their covering; smoul- 
 dering fires, with great morsels of roasted venison and buffalo 
 moat, standing in wooden spits before them, hacked and 
 slashed by the knives of hungry hunters ; while around were 
 strewed the hides, the horns, the antlers, and bones of buffa- 
 loes and deer, with uncooked joints, and unplucked turkeys, 
 loft behind with that reckless improvidence and wastefulness 
 which young hunters are apt to indulge when in a neighbor- 
 hood where game abounds. In the meantime a score or two 
 of turkey -buzzards, or vultures, were already on the wing, 
 wheeling their magnificent flight high in the air, and preparing 
 for a descent upon the camp as soon as it should be abandoned. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE GRAND PRAIRIE. — A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 After proceeding about two hours in a southerly direction, 
 we emerged toward mid-day from the dreary belt of the Cross 
 Timber, and to our infinite delight beheld “the great Prairie” 
 stretching to the right and left before us. We could distinctly 
 trace the meandering course of the main Canadian, and various 
 smaller streams, by the strips of green forest that bordered 
 them. The landscape was vast and beautiful. There is always 
 an expansion of feeling in looking upon these boundless and 
 fertile wastes ; but I was doubly conscious of it after emerging 
 from our “close dungeon of innumerous boughs.” 
 
 From a rising ground Beatte pointed out the place where he 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 109 
 
 and his comrades had killed the bufTaloes ; and we beheld sev- 
 eral black objects moving in the distance, which he said were 
 part of the herd. The Captain determined to sliat'e liis course 
 to a woody bottom about a mile distant, and to encamp there 
 for a day or two, by way of having a regular buffalo hunt, and 
 getting a supply of provisions. As the troop defiled along the 
 i5lope of the hill toward the camping ground, Eeatte proposed 
 to my messmates and myself, that we should put ourselves 
 under his guidance, promising to take us where we should 
 have plenty of sport. Leaving the line of march, there- 
 fore, we diverged toward the prairie ; traversing a small val- 
 ley, and ascending a gentle swell of land. As we reached 
 the summit, we beheld a gang of wild horses about a mile off. 
 Beatte was immediately on the alert, and no longer thought of 
 buffalo hunting. He was mounted on his powerful half-wild 
 horse, with a lariat coiled at the saddle-bow, and set off in pur- 
 suit ; while we remained on a rising ground watching his ma- 
 noeuvres with great solicitude. Taking advantage of a strip of 
 woodland, he stole quietly along, so as to get close to them be- 
 fore he was perceived. The moment they caught sight of him 
 a grand scamper took place. We watched him skirting along 
 the horizon like a privateer in full chase of a merchantman ; 
 at length he passed over the brow of a ridge, and down into a 
 shallow valley ; in a few moments he was on the opposite hill, 
 and close upon one of the horses. He was soon head and head, 
 and appeared to be trying to noose his prey ; but they both dis- 
 appeared again below the hill, and we saw no more of them. 
 It turned out afterward that he had noosed a powerful horse, 
 but could not hold him, and had lost his lariat in the attempt. 
 
 While we were waiting for his return, we perceived two 
 buffalo bulls descending a slope, toward a stream, v/hich 
 wound through a ravine fringed with trees. The young Count 
 and myself endeavored to get near them under covert of the 
 trees. They discovered us while we were yet three or four 
 hundred yards off, and turning about, retreated up the rising 
 ground. We urged our horses across the ravine, and gave 
 chase. The immense weight of head and shoulders causes the 
 buffalo to labor heavily up hill ; but it accelerates his descent. 
 We had the advantage, therefore, and gained rapidly upon the 
 fugitives, though it was difficult to get our horses to approach 
 them, their very scent inspiring them with terror. The Count, 
 who had a double-barrelled gun loaded with ball, fired, but it 
 missed. The bulls now altered their coaise, and galloped down 
 
110 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 h^l with headlong rapidity. As they ran in different direo 
 tions, we each singled out one and separated. I was provided 
 with a brace of veteran brass-barrelled pistols, which I had 
 borrowed at Fort Gibson, and which had evidently seen some 
 service. Pistols are very effective in buffalo hunting, as the 
 hunter can ride up close to the animal, and fire at it while at 
 full speed ; whereas the long heavy rifles used on the frontier, 
 cannot be easily managed, nor discharged with accurate aim 
 from horseback. My object, therefore, was to get within 
 pistol shot of the buffalo. , This was no very easy matter. I 
 was well mounted on a horse of excellent speed and bottom, 
 that seemed eager for the chase, and soon overtook the game ; 
 but the moment he came nearly parallel, he would keep sheer- 
 ing off, with ears forked and pricked forward, and every 
 symptom of aversion and alarm. It was no wonder. Of all 
 animals, a buffalo, when close pressed by the hunter, has an 
 aspect the most diabolical. His two short black horns, curve 
 out of a huge frontier of shaggy hair; his eyes glow like coals; 
 his mouth is open, his tongue parched and drawn up into a 
 half crescent ; his tail is erect, and tufted and whisking about 
 in the air, he is a perfect picture of mingled rage and terror. 
 
 It was with difficulty I urged my horse sufficiently near, 
 when, taking aim, to my chagrin, both pistols missed fire. 
 Unfortunately the locks of these veteran weapons were so 
 much worn, that in the gaUop, the priming had been shaken 
 out of the pans. At the snapping of the last pistol I was close 
 upon the buffalo, when, in his despair, he turned round with a 
 sudden snort and rushed upon me. My horse wheeled about 
 as if on a pivot, made a convulsive spring, and, as I had been 
 leaning on one side with pistol extended, I came near being 
 thrown at the feet of the buffalo. 
 
 Three or four bounds of the horse carried us out of the reach 
 of the enemy ; who, having merely turned in desperate self- 
 defence, quickly resumed his flight. As soon as I could gather 
 in my panic-stricken horse, and prime the pistols afresh, I 
 again spurred in pursuit of the buffalo, who had slackened his 
 speed to take breath. On my approach he again set off full 
 tnt, heaving himself forward with a heavy rolling gallop, dash- 
 ing with headlong precipitation through brakes and ravines, 
 while several deer and wolves, startled from their coverts by 
 his thundering career, ran helter-skelter to right and left across 
 the waste. 
 
 A gallop across the prairies in pursuit of game is by no 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 111 
 
 means so smooth a career as those may imagine, who have 
 only tlie idea of an open level plain. It is true, the prairies of 
 the hunting ground are not so much entangled with flowering 
 plants and long herbage as the lower prairies, and are princi- 
 pally covered with short buffalo grass ; but they are diversi- 
 fled by hill and dale, and where most level, are apt to be cut 
 up by deep rifts and ravines, made by torrents after rains; 
 and which, yawning from an even surface, are almost like 
 pitfalls in the way of the hunter, checking him suddenly, when 
 in full career, or subjecting him to the risk of limb and hfe. 
 The plains, too, are beset by burrowing holes of small animals, 
 in which the horse is apt to sink to the fetlock, and throw both 
 himself and his rider. The late rain had covered some parts 
 of the prairie, where the ground was hard, with a thin sheet 
 of water, through which the horse had to splash his way. In 
 other parts there were innumerable shallow hoUows, eight or 
 ten feet in diameter, made by the buffaloes, who wallow in 
 sand and mud hke swine. These being filled with water, 
 shone hke mirrors, so that the horse was continually leaping 
 over them or springing on one side. We had reached, too, a 
 rough part of the prairie, very much broken and cut up ; the 
 buffalo, who was running for life, took no heed to his course, 
 plunging down break-neck ravines, where it was necessary to 
 skirt the borders in search of a safer descent. At length we 
 came to where a winter stream had torn a deep chasm across 
 the whole prairie, leaving open jagged rocks, and forming a 
 long glen bordered by steep crumbling cliffs of mingled stone 
 and clay. Down one of these the buffalo flung himself, half 
 tumbling, half leaping, and then scuttled along the bottom; 
 while I, seeing all further pursuit useless, pulled up, and 
 gazed quietly after him from the border of the cliff, until he 
 disappeared amidst the windings of the ravine. 
 
 Nothing now remained but to turn my steed and rejoin my 
 companions. Here at first was some little difficulty. The 
 ardor of the chase had betrayed me into a long, heedless gallop. 
 I now found myself in the midst of a lonely waste, in which 
 the prospect was bounded by undulating swells of land, naked 
 and uniform, where, from the deficiency of landmarks and 
 distinct features, an inexperienced man may become be- 
 wildered, and lose his way as readily as in the wastes of the 
 ocean. The day, too, was overcast, so that I could not guide 
 myself by the sun; my only mode was to retrace the track 
 my horse had made in coming, though this I would often 
 
112 
 
 A TOUlt OJV THE PllAIRIES, 
 
 lose sight of, where the ground was covered with parched 
 herbage. 
 
 To one unaccustomed to it, there is something inexpressibly 
 lonely in the sohtude of a prairie. The loneliness of a forest 
 seems nothing to it. There the view is shut in by trees, and 
 the imagination is left free to picture some livelier scene be- 
 yond. But here we have an immense extent of landscape 
 without a sign of human existence. We have the conscious- 
 ness of being far, far beyond the bounds of human habita- 
 tation; we feel as if moving in the midst of a desert world. 
 As my horse lagged slowly back over the scenes of our late 
 scamper, and the delirium of the chase had passed away, I 
 was peculiarly sensible to these circumstances. The silence of 
 the waste was now and then broken by the cry of a distant 
 flock of pelicans, stalking like spectres about a shallow pool ; 
 sometimes by the sinister croaking of a raven in the air, while 
 occasionally a scoundrel wolf would scour off from before me : 
 and, having attained a safe distance, would sit down and howl 
 and whine with tones that gave a dreariness to the surround- 
 ing solitude. 
 
 After pursuing my way for some time, I descried a horseman 
 on the edge of a distant hill, and soon recognized him to be the 
 Count. He had been equally unsuccessful with myself; we 
 were shortly after rejoined by our worthy comrade, the Vir- 
 tuoso, who, with spectacles on nose, had made two or three 
 ineffectual shots from horseback. 
 
 We determined not to seek the camp until we had made 
 one more effort. Casting our eyes about the surrounding 
 waste, we descried a herd of buffalo about two miles dis- 
 tant, scattered apart, and quietly grazing near a small strip 
 of trees and bushes. It required but little stretch of fancy 
 to picture them so many cattle grazing on the edge of a 
 common, and that the grove might shelter some lowly farm- 
 house. 
 
 We now formed our plan to circumvent the herd, and by 
 getting on the other side of them, to hunt them in the direction 
 where we knew our camp to be situated : otherwise the pursuit 
 might take us to such a distance as to render it impossible to 
 And our way back before nightfall. Taking a wide circuit, 
 therefore, we moved slowly and cautiously, pausing occa- 
 sionally, when we saw any of the herd desist from grazing. 
 The wind fortunately set from them, otherwise they might 
 liavc scented us and have taken the alarm. In this way we 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 lid 
 
 succeeded in getting round the herd without disturbing it 
 It consisted of about forty head, bulls, cows, and calvefi. 
 Separating to some distance from each other, we now ap- 
 proached slowly in a parallel line, hoping by degrees to stea*> 
 near without exciting attention. They began, however, to 
 move off quietly, stopping at every step or two to graze, when 
 suddenly a bull that, unobserved by us, had been taking his 
 siesta under a clump of trees to our left, roused himself from 
 his lair, and hastened to join his companions. We were still 
 at a considerable distance, but the game had taken the alarm. 
 We quickened our pace, they broke into a gallop, and now 
 commenced a fuU chase. 
 
 As the ground was level, they shouldered along with great 
 speed, following each other in a line ; two or three bulls brings 
 ing up the rear, the last of whom, from his enormous size and 
 venerable frontlet, and beard of sunburnt hair, looked like the 
 patriarch of the herd ; and as if he might long have reigned 
 the monarch of the prairie. 
 
 There is a mixture of the awful and the comic in the look of 
 these huge animals, as they bear their great bulk forward, 
 with an up and down motion of the unwieldy head and 
 shoulders ; their tail cocked up like the queue of Pantaloon in 
 a pantomime, the end whisking about in a lierce yet whimsical 
 style, and their eyes glaring venomously witu an expression 
 of fright and fury. 
 
 For some time I kept parallel with the line, without being 
 able to force my horse within pistol shot, so much had he been 
 alarmed by the assault of the buffalo in the preceding chase. 
 At length I succeeded, but was again balked by my pistols 
 missing fire. My companions, whose horses were less fleet, 
 and more way-worn, could not overtake the herd ; at length 
 Mr. L., who was in the rear of the line, and losing ground, 
 levelled his double-barreUed gun, and fired a long raking shot. 
 It struck a buffalo just above the loins, broke its back-bone, 
 and brought it to the ground. He stopped and alighted to 
 dispatch his prey, when borrowing his gun, which had yet a 
 charge remaining in it, I put my horse to his speed, again over- 
 took the herd which was thundering along, pursued by the 
 Count. With my present weapon there was no need of urging 
 my horse to such close quarters; galloping along parallel, 
 therefore, I singled out a buffalo, and by a fortunate shot 
 brought it down on the spot. The ball had struck a vital part; 
 it could not move from the place where it fdl, but lay there 
 
114 
 
 A TOUR ON TUB PRAIRIES. 
 
 struggling in mortal agony, while the rest of the herd kept on 
 their headlong career across the prairie. 
 
 Dismounting, I now fettered my horse to prevent his stray- 
 ing, and advanced to contemplate my victim. I am nothing of 
 a sportsman ; I had been prompted to this unwonted exploit by 
 the magnitude of the game, and the excitement of an adven- 
 turous chase. Now that the excitement was over, I could not 
 but look with commiseration upon the poor animal that lay 
 struggling and bleeding at my feet. His very size and impor- 
 tance, which had before inspired me with eagerness, now 
 increased my compunction. It seemed as if I had inflicted 
 pain in proportion to the bulk of my victim, and as if it were 
 a hundred-fold greater waste of life than there would have 
 been in the destruction of an animal of inferior size. 
 
 To add to these after-qualms of conscience, the poor animal 
 lingered in his agony. He had evidently received a mortal 
 wound, but death might be long in coming. It would not do 
 to leave him here to be torn piecemeal, v/hile yet alive, by the 
 wolves that had already snuffed his blood, and were skulking 
 and howling at a distance, and waiting for my departure ; and 
 by the ravens that were flapping about, croaking dismally in 
 the air. It became now an act of mercy to give him hin 
 quietus, and put him out of his misery. I primed one of the* 
 pistols, therefore, and advanced close up to the buffalo. To 
 inflict a wound thus in cold blood, I found a totally different 
 tiling from firing in the heat of the chase. Taking aim, how- 
 ever, just behind the fore-shoulder, my pistol for once proved 
 true; the ball must have passed through the heart, for the 
 animal gave one convulsive throe and expired. 
 
 While I stood meditating and moralizing over the wreck I 
 had so wantonly produced, with my horse grazing near me, I 
 was rejoined by my fellow-sportsman, the Virtuoso; who, 
 being a man of universal adroitness, and withal, more experi- 
 enced and hardened in the gentle art of “ venerie,” soon man- 
 aged to carve out the tongue of the buffalo, and delivered it to 
 me to bear back to the camp as a trophy. 
 
A TOUU OiV THE PUAllilES. 
 
 115 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A. -COMRADE LOST.— A SEARCH FOR THE CAMP.— THE COMMISSIONER. 
 
 THE WILD HORSE, AND THE BUFFALO. — A WOLF SERENADE. 
 
 Our solicitude was now awakened for the young Count. 
 Yficn his usual eagerness and impetuosity he had persisted in 
 urging his jaded horse in pursuit of the herd, unwilling to 
 return without having likewise killed a buffalo. In this way 
 he had kept on following them, hither and thither, and 
 occasionally firing an ineffectual shot, until by degrees horse- 
 man and herd became indistinct in the distance, and at length 
 swelhng ground and strips of trees and thickets hid them 
 entirely from sight. 
 
 By the time my friend, the amateur, joined me, the young 
 Count had been long lost to view. We held a consultation on 
 the matter. Evening was drawing on. Were we to pursue 
 him, it would be dark before we should overtake him, grant- 
 ing we did not entirely lose trace of him in the gloom. We 
 should then be too much bewildered to find our way back to 
 the encampment; even now, our return would be difficult. 
 We determined, therefore, to hasten to the camp as speedily 
 as possible, and send out our haK-breeds, and some of the 
 veteran hunters, skilled in cruising about the prairies, to 
 search for our companion. 
 
 We accordingly set forward in what we supposed to be the 
 direction of the camp. Our weary horses could hardly be 
 urged beyond a walk. The twilight thickened upon us; the 
 landscape grew gradually indistinct ; we tried in vain to recog- 
 nize various landmarks which we had noted in the morning. 
 The features of the prairies are so similar as to baffle the eye 
 of any but an Indian, or a practised woodman. At length 
 night closed in. We hoped to see the distant glare of camp- 
 fires : .we listened to catch the sound of the bells about the 
 necks of the grazing horses. Once or twice we thought we 
 distinguished them; we were mistaken. Nothing vras to be 
 heard but a monotonous concert of insects, with now and 
 then the dismal howl of wolves mingling with the night breeze. 
 We began to think of halting for the night, and bivouacking 
 under the lee of some thicket. We had implements to strike a 
 
116 
 
 A TOUR ON TllK RR AIRIES. 
 
 light; there was plenty of firewood at hand, and the tongnes 
 01 our buffaloes would furnish us with a repast. 
 
 Just as we were preparing to dismount, we heard the report 
 of a rifle, and shortly after, the notes of the bugle, calling up 
 the night guard. Pushing forward in that direction, the camp 
 fires soon broke on our sight, gleaming at a distance from 
 among the thick groves of an alluvial bottom. 
 
 As we entered the camp, we found it a scene of rude hun- 
 ters’ revelry and wassail. There had been a grand day’s 
 sport, in which all had taken a part. Eight buffaloes had been 
 killed; roarmg fires were blazing on every side; all hands 
 were feasting upon roasted joints, broiled marrow-bones, and 
 the juicy hump, far-famed among the epicures of the prairies. 
 Eight glad were we to dismount and partake of the sturdy 
 cheer, for we had been on our weary horses since morning 
 without tasting food. 
 
 As to our worthy friend, the Commissioner, with whom we 
 had parted company at the outset of this eventful day, we 
 found him lying in a corner of the tent, much the worse for 
 wear, in the course of a successful hunting match. 
 
 It seems that our man, Beatte, in his zeal to give the Com- 
 missioner an opportunity of distinguishing himself, and grati- 
 fying his hunting propensities, had mounted him upon his 
 half-wild horse, and started him in pursuit of a huge buffalo 
 bull, that had already been frightened by the hunters. The 
 horse, which was fearless as his owner, and, like him, had a 
 considerable spice of devil in his composition, and who, 
 besides, had been made familiar with the game, no sooner 
 came in sight and scent of the buffalo, than he set off full 
 speed, bearing the involuntary hunter hither and thither, and 
 whither he v/ould not — up hill and down hill — leaping pools 
 and brooks — dashing through glens and gullies, until he came 
 up with the game. Instead of sheering off, he crowded upon 
 the buffalo. The Commissioner, almost in seK-defence, dis- 
 charged both barrels of a double-barrelled gun into the enemy. 
 The broadside took effect, but was not mortal. The buffalo 
 turned furiously upon his pursuer ; the horse, as he had been 
 taught by his owner, wheeled off. The buffalo plunged after 
 him. The worthy Commissioner, in great extremity, drew 
 his sole pistol from his holster, fired it off as a stern -chaser, 
 shot the buffalo full in the breast, and brought him lumbering 
 forward to the earth. 
 
 The Conunissioner returned to camp, lauded on all sides for 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRATRTES. 
 
 117 
 
 his signal exploit ; but grievously battered and way-worn. He 
 had been a hard rider perforce, and a victor in spite of himself. 
 He turned a deaf ear to all compliments and congratulations ; 
 had but little stomach for the hunter’s fare placed before him, 
 and soon retreated to stretch his limbs in the tent, declaring 
 that nothing should tempt him again to mount that half devil 
 Indian horse, and that he had had enough of buffalo hunting 
 for the rest of his life. 
 
 It was too dark now to send any one in search of the young 
 Count. Guns, however, were fired, and the bugles sounded 
 from time to time, to guide him to the camp, if by chance he 
 should straggle within hearing; but the night advanced with- 
 out his making his appearance. There vv^as not a star visible 
 to guide him, and we concluded that wherever he wms, he 
 would give up wandering in the dark, and bivouac until day- 
 break. 
 
 It was a raw, overcast night. The carcasses of the buffaloes 
 killed in the vicinity of the camp had drawn about it an un- 
 usual number of wolves, who kept up the most forlorn concert 
 of whining yells, prolonged into dismal cadences and inflex- 
 icns, literally converting the surrounding waste into a howling 
 wilderness. Nothing is more melancholy than the midnight 
 howl of a wolf on a prairie. What rendered the gloom and 
 wildness of the night and the savage concert of the neighbor- 
 ing waste the more dreary to us, was the idea of the lonely and 
 exposed situation of our young and inexperienced comrade. 
 We trusted, however, that on the return of daylight, he would 
 find his way back to the camp, and then all the events of the 
 night would be remembered only as so many savory gratifica^ 
 tions of his passion for adventure. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 A HUNT FOR A LOST COMRADE. 
 
 The morning dawned, and an hour or two passed without 
 any tidings of the Count. We began to feel uneasiness lest, 
 having no compass to aid him, he might perplex himself and 
 wander in some opposite direction. Stragglers are thus often 
 lost for days ; what made us the more anxious about him was, 
 
118 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 that he had no provisions with him, was totally unversed in 
 
 woodcraft,” and hable to fall into the hands of some lurking 
 or straggling party of savages. 
 
 As soon as our people, therefore, had made their breakfast, 
 we beat up for volunteers for a cruise in search of the Count. 
 A dozen of the rangers, mounted on some of the best and 
 freshest horses, and armed with rifles, were soon ready to 
 start ; our half-breeds Beatte and Antoine also, with our little 
 mongrel Frenchman, were zealous in the cause ; so Mr. L. and 
 myself taking the lead, to show the way to the scene of our 
 little hunt where we had parted company with the Count, we 
 all set out across the prairie. A ride of a couple of miles 
 brought us to the carcasses of the two buffaloes we had kflled. 
 A legion of ravenous wolves were already gorging upon 
 them. At our approach they reluctantly drew off, skulking 
 with a caitiff look to the distance of a few hundred yards, and 
 there awaiting our departure, that they might return to’ their 
 banquet. 
 
 I conducted Beatte and Antoine to the spot whence the 
 young Count had continued the chase alone. It was like 
 putting hounds upon the scent. They immediately distin- 
 guished the track of his horse amidst the trampings of the 
 buffaloes, and set off at a round pace, following with the eye 
 in nearly a straight course, for upward of a mile, when they 
 came to where the herd had divided, and run hither and 
 thither about a meadow. Here the track of the horse’s hoofs 
 wandered and doubled and often crossed each other; our half- 
 breeds were like hounds at fault. While we were at a halt, 
 waiting until they should unravel the maze, Beatte suddenly 
 gave a short Indian whoop, or rather yelp, and pointed to a 
 distant hill. On regarding it attentively, we perceived a 
 horseman on the summit. ‘‘It is the Count!” cried Beatte, 
 and set off at full gallop, followed by the whole company. 
 In a few moments he checked his horse. Another figure on 
 horseback had appeared on the brow of the hill. This com- 
 pletely altered the case. The Count had wandered off alone ; 
 no other person had been missing from the camp. If one of 
 these horsemen were indeed the Count, the other must be an 
 Indian. If an Indian, in all probability a Pawnee. Perhaps 
 they were both Indians ; scouts of some party lurking in the 
 vicinity. Wliile these and other suggestions were hastily dis- 
 cussed, the two horsemen glided down from the profile of the 
 hiU, and we lost sight of them. One of the rangers suggested 
 
A TOUJl ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 119 
 
 that there might be a straggling party of Pawnees behind 
 the hill, and that the Count might have fallen into their 
 hands. The idea had an electric effect upon the little troop. 
 In an instant every horse was at full speed, the half-breeds 
 leading the way ; the young rangers as they rode set up wild 
 yelps of exultation at the thoughts of having a brush with the 
 Indians. A neck or nothing gallop brought us to the skirts of 
 the hill, and revealed our mistake. In a ravine we found the 
 two horsemen standing by the carcass of a buffalo which they 
 had killed. They proved to be two rangers, who, unperceived, 
 had left the camp a little before us, and had come here in a 
 .direct line, while we had made a wide circuit about the 
 prairie. 
 
 This episode being at an end, and the sudden excitement 
 being over, we slowly and coolly retraced our steps to the 
 meadow; but it was some time before our half-breeds could 
 again get on the track of the Coimt. Having at length found 
 it, they succeeded in following it through all its doublings, 
 until they came to where it was no longer mingled with the 
 tramp of buffaloes, but became single and separate, wandering 
 here and there about the prairies, but always tending in a 
 direction opposite to that of the camp. Here the Count had 
 evidently given up the pursuit of the herd, and had endeav- 
 ored to find his “way to the encampment, but had become 
 bewildered as the evening shades thickened around him, and 
 had completely mistaken the points of the compass. 
 
 In all this quest our half-breeds displayed that quickness of 
 eye, in following up a track, for which Indians are so noted. 
 Beatte, especially, was as staunch as a veteran hound. Some- 
 times he would keep forward on an easy trot ; his eyes fixed on 
 the ground a little ahead of liis horse, clearly distinguishing 
 prints in the herbage which to me were invisible, excepting 
 on the closest inspection. Sometimes he would pull up and 
 walk his horse slowly, regarding the ground intensely, where 
 to my eye nothing was apparent. Then he would dismount, 
 lead his horse by the bridle, and advance cautiously step by 
 step, with his face bent towards the earth, just catching, here 
 and there, a casual indication of the vaguest kind to guide 
 him onward. In some places where the soil was hard and the 
 grass withered, he would lose the track entirely, and wander 
 backward and forward, and right and left, in search of it; 
 returning occasionally to the place where he had lost sight of 
 it, to take a new departure. If this failed he would examine 
 
120 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 tlie banks of the neighboring streams, or the sandy bottoms of 
 the ravines, in hopes of finding tracks where the Count had 
 crossed. When he again came upon the track, he would 
 remount his horse, and resume his onward course. At length, 
 after crossing a stream, in the crumbling banks of which the 
 hoofs of the horse were deeply dented, we came upon a high 
 dry prairie, where our half-breeds were completely baffled. 
 Not a foot-print was to be discerned, though they searched in 
 every direction; and Beatte, at length coming to a pause, 
 shook his head despondingly. 
 
 Just then a small herd of deer, roused from a neighboring 
 ravine, came bounding by us. Beatte sprang from his horse, 
 levelled his rifle, and wounded one slightly, but without bring- 
 ing it to the ground. The report of the rifle was almost 
 immediately followed by a long halloo from a distance. We 
 looked around, but could see nothing. Another long halloo 
 was heard, and at length a horseman was descried, emerging 
 out of a skirt of forest. A single glance showed him to be the 
 young Count ; there was a universal shout and scamper, every 
 one setting off full gallop to greet him. It was a joyful meet- 
 ing to both parties; for, much anxiety had been felt by us 
 all oh account of his youth and inexperience, and for his part, 
 with all his love of adventure, he seemed right glad to be once 
 more among his friends. 
 
 As we supposed, he had completely mistaken his course on 
 the preceding evening, and had wandered about until dark, 
 when he thought of bivouacking. The night was cold, yet he 
 feared to make a fire, lest it might betray him to some lurking 
 party of Indians. Hobbling his horse with his pocket hand- 
 kerchief, and leaving him to graze on the margin of the prairie, 
 he clambered into a tree, fixed his saddle in the fork of the 
 branches, and placing hmiself securely with his back against 
 the trunk, prepared to pass a dreary and anxious night, 
 regaled occasionally with the bowlings of the wolves. He was 
 .‘Xgreeably disappointed. The fatigue of the day soon brought 
 on a sound sleep ; he had delightful dreams about his home in 
 Switzerland, nor did he wake until it was broad daylight. 
 
 He then descended from his roosting-place, mounted his 
 horse, and rode to the naked summit of a hill, whence he be- 
 held a trackless wilderness around him, but, at no great dis- 
 tance, the Grand Canadian, winding its way between borders 
 of forest land. Tlie sight of this river consoled him with the 
 idea that, should he fail in finding his way back to the camp, 
 
A TOUR ON tup: PJlAllllES. 
 
 121 
 
 or in being found by some party of his comrades, he might 
 follow the course of the stream, which could not fail to conduct 
 him to some frontier post, or Indian hamlet. So closed the 
 events of our hap-hazard buffalo hunt. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 A REPUBLIC OF PRAIRIE DOGS. 
 
 On returning from our expedition in quest of the young 
 Count, I learned that a burrow, or village, as it is termed, of 
 prairie dogs had been discovered on the level summit of a 
 hill, about a mile from the camp. Having heard much of the 
 habits and peculiarities of these little animals, I determined to 
 pay a visit to the community. The prairie dog is, in fact, one 
 of the curiosities of the Far West, about which travellers de- 
 light to teU marvellous tales, endowing him at times with 
 something of the politic and social habits of a rational being, 
 and giving him systems of civil government and domestic 
 economy, almost equal to what they used to bestow upon the 
 beaver. 
 
 The prairie dog is an animal of the coney kind, and about 
 the size of a rabbit. He is of a sprightly mercurial nature; 
 quick, sensitive, and somewhat petulant. He is very grega- 
 rious, living in large communities, sometimes of several acres 
 in extent, where innumerable little heaps of earth show the 
 entrances to the subterranean ceUs of the inhabitants, and 
 the well beaten tracks, like lanes and streets, show their mo- 
 bility and restlessness. According to the accounts given of 
 them, they would seem to be continually full of sport, business, 
 and public affairs ; whisking about hither and thither, as if on 
 gossiping visits to each other’s houses, or congregating in the 
 cool of the evening, or after a shower, and gambolling together 
 ' in the open air. Sometimes, especially when the moon shines, 
 they pass half the night in revelry, barking or yelping with 
 short, quick, yet weak tones, like those of very young puppies. 
 While in the height of their playfulness and clamor, however, 
 should there be the least alarm, they all vanish into their cells 
 in an instant, and the village remains blank and silent. In 
 case they are hard pressed by their pursuers, without any 
 
122 
 
 A TOUR OJ^ TEE PRAIRIES, 
 
 hope of escape, they will assume a pugnacious air, and a most 
 whimsical look of impotent wrath and defiance. 
 
 The prairie dogs are not permitted to remain sole^ and undis- 
 turbed inhabitants of their own homes. Owls and rattlesnakes 
 are said to take up their abodes with them; but whether as 
 invited guests or unwelcome intruders, is a matter of contro- 
 versy. The owls are of a peculiar kind, and would seem to 
 partake of the character of the hawk ; for they are taller and 
 more erect on their legs, more alert in their looks and rapid in 
 their flight than ordinary owls, and do not confine their ex- 
 cursions to the night, but sally forth in broad day. 
 
 Some say that they only inhabit cells which the prairie 
 dogs have deserted, and suffered to go to ruin, in consequence 
 of the death in them of some relative ; for they would make 
 out this little animal to be endowed with keen sensibilities, 
 that will not permit it to remain in the dwelling where it has 
 witnessed the death of a friend. Other fanciful speculators 
 represent the owl as a kind of housekeeper to the prairie dog ; 
 and, from having a note very similar, insinuate that it acts, 
 in a manner, as family preceptor, and teaches the young litter 
 to bark. 
 
 As to the rattlesnake, nothing satisfactory has been ascer- 
 tained of the part he plays in this most interesting household ; 
 though he is considered as little better than a sycophant and 
 sharper, that winds himself into the concerns of the honest, 
 credulous little dog, and takes him in most sadly. Certain it 
 is, if he acts as toad-eater, he occasionally solaces himself with 
 more than the usual perquisites of his order; as he is now and 
 then detected with one of the younger members of the family 
 in his maw. 
 
 Such are a few of the particulars that I could gather about 
 the domestic economy of this little inhabitant of the prairies, 
 who, with his pigmy republic, appears to be a subject of much 
 whimsical speculation and burlesque remarks among the hun^ 
 ters of the Far West. 
 
 It was toward evening that I set out with a companion, to 
 visit the village in question. Unluckily, it had been invaded 
 in the course of the day by some of the rangers, who had shot 
 two or three of its inhabitants, and thrown the whole sensitive 
 community in confusion. As we approached, we could per- 
 ceive numbers of the inhabitants seated ad the entrances of 
 their cells, while sentinels seemed to have been posted on the 
 outskirts, to keep a look-out. At sight of us, the picket 
 
A TOUR ON THE PnAllUES. 
 
 123 
 
 guards scampered in and gave the alarm; whereupon every 
 inhabitant gave a short yelp, or bark, and dived into his hole, 
 his heels twinkling in the air as if he had thrown a somersault. 
 
 We traversed the whole village, or republic, which covered 
 an area of about thirty acres ; but not a whisker of an inhabi- 
 tant was to be seen. We probed their cells as far as the ram- 
 rods of our rifles would reach, but could unearth neither dog, 
 nor owl, nor rattlesnake. Moving quietly to a little distance, 
 we lay down upon the ground, and watched for a long time, 
 silent and motionless. By and by, a cautious old burgher 
 would slowly put forth the end of his nose, but instantly draw 
 it in again. Another, at a greater distance, would emerge 
 entirely; but, catching a glance of us, would throw a somer- 
 sault, and plunge back again into his hole. At length, some 
 who resided on the opposite side of the village, taking courage 
 from the continued stillness, would steal forth, and hurry off 
 to a distant hole, the residence possibly of some family connec- 
 tion, or gossiping friend, about whose safety they were solici- 
 tous, or with whom they wished to compare notes about the 
 late occurrences. 
 
 Others, still more bold, assembled in little knots, in the 
 streets and public places, as if to discuss the recent outrages 
 offered to the commonwealth, and the atrocious murders of 
 their fellow-burghers. 
 
 We rose from the ground and moved forward, to take a 
 nearer view of these public proceedings, when yelp ! yelp ! yelp ! 
 —there was a shrill alarm passed from mouth to mouth; the 
 meetings suddenly dispersed ; feet twinkled in the air in every 
 direction ; and in an instant all had vanished into the earth. 
 
 The dusk of the evening put an end to our observations, but 
 the train of whimsical comparisons produced in my brain by 
 the moral attributes which I had heard given to these little 
 politic animals, still continued after my return to camp ; and 
 late in the night, as I lay awake after all the camp was asleep, 
 and heard in the stillness of the hour, a faint clamor of shrill 
 voices from the distant village, I could not help picturing to 
 myself the inhabitants gathered together in noisy assemblage 
 and windy debate, to devise plans for the public safety , and 
 to vindicate the invaded rights and insulted dignity of the re- 
 public. 
 
124 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXXIII. 
 
 A COUNCIL IN THE CAMP. — REASONS FOR FACING HOMEWARD.— 
 
 HORSES LOST. — DEPARTURE WITH A DETACHMENT ON THE 
 
 HOMEWARD ROUTE. — SWAMP.— WILD HORSE. — CAMP SCENES BY 
 
 NIGHT.— THE OWL, HARBINGER OF DAWN. 
 
 While breakfast was preparing, a council was held as to our 
 future movements. Symptoms of discontent had appeared for 
 a day or two past among the rangers, most of whom, unaccus- 
 tomed to the life of the prairies, had become impatient of its 
 privations, as well as the restraints of the camp. The want of 
 bread had been felt severely, and they were wearied with con- 
 stant travel. In fact, the novelty and excitement of the expe- 
 dition were at an end. They had hunted the deer, the bear, the 
 elk, the buffalo, and the- wild horse, and had no further object 
 of leading interest to look forward to. A general inclination 
 prevailed, therefore, to turn homeward. 
 
 Grave reasons disposed the Captain and his officers to adopt 
 this resolution. Our horses were generally much jaded by the 
 fatigues of travelling and hunting, and had fallen away sadly 
 for want of good pasturage, and from being tethered at night, 
 to protect them from Indian depredations. The late rains, too, 
 seemed to have washed away the nourishment from the scanty 
 herbage that remained ; and since our encampment during the 
 storm, our horses had lost flesh and strength rapidly. With 
 every possible care, horses, accustomed to grain, and to the 
 regular and plentiful nourishment of the stable and the farm, 
 lose heart and condition in travelling on the prairies. In all 
 expeditions of the kind we were engaged in, the hardy Indian 
 horses, which are generally mustangs, or a cross of the wild 
 breed, are to be preferred. They can stand all fatigues, hard- 
 ships, and privations, and thrive on the grasses and the wild 
 herbage of the plains. 
 
 Our men, too, had acted with little forethought ; galloping ofl 
 whenever they had a chance, after the game that we encoun- 
 tered while on the march. In this way they had strained and 
 wearied their horses, instead of husbanding their strength and 
 spirits. On a tour of the kind, horses should as seldom as pos- 
 sible be put off of a quiet walk ; and the average day’s journey 
 should not exceed ten miles. 
 
 W/3 had hoped, by pushing forward, to reach the bottoms of 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 125 
 
 the Red River, which abound with young cane, a most nourish- 
 ing forage for cattle at this season of the year. It would now 
 take us several days to arrive there, and in the meantime 
 many of our horses would probably give out. It was the time, 
 too, when the hunting i^arties of Indians set fire to the prairies ; 
 the herbage, throughout this part of the country, was in that 
 parched state, favorable to combustion, and there was daily 
 tnore and more risk that the prairies between us and the fort 
 would be set on fire by some of the return parties of Osages, 
 and a scorched desert left for us to traverse. In a word, we 
 had started too late in the season, or loitered too much in the 
 early part of our march, to accomplish our originally intended 
 tour ; and there was imminent hazard, if we continued on, that 
 we should lose the greater part of our horses; and, besides 
 suffering various other inconveniences, be obliged to return 
 on foot. It was determined, therefore, to give up all further 
 progress, and, turning our faces to the southeast, to make the 
 best of our way back to Fort Gibson. 
 
 This resolution being taken, there was an immediate eagerness 
 to put it into operation. Several horses, however, were miss- 
 ing, and among others those of the Captain and the Surgeon. 
 Persons had gone in search of them, but the morning advanced 
 without any tidings of them. Our party, in the meantime, 
 being all ready for a march, the Commissionor determined to 
 set off in the advance, with his original escort of a lieutenant 
 and fourteen rangers, leaving the Captain to come on at his 
 convenience, with the main bodj\ At ten o’clock we accord- 
 ingly started, under the guidance of Beatte, who had hunted 
 over this part of the country, and knew the direct route to the 
 garrison. 
 
 For some distance we skirted the prairie, keeping a south-' 
 east direction ; and in the course of our ride we saw a variety 
 of wild animals, deer, white and black wolves, buffaloes, and 
 wild horses. To the latter, our half-breeds and Tonish gave 
 ineffectual chase, only serving to add to the weariness of their 
 already jaded steeds. Indeed it is rarely that any but the 
 Tweaker and least fleet of the wild horses are taken in these hard 
 racings ; while the horse of the huntsman is prone to be knocked 
 up. The latter, in fact, risks a good horse to catch a bad one. 
 On this occasion, Tonish, who was a perfect imp on horseback, 
 and noted for ruining every animal he bestrode, succeeded in 
 laming and almost disabling the powerful gray on which we 
 had mounted him at the outset of our tour. 
 
126 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 After proceeding a few miles, we left the prairie, and struck 
 to the east, taking what Beatte pronounced an old Osage war- 
 track. This led us through a rugged tract of country, over- 
 grown with scrubbed forests and entangled thickets, and 
 intersected by deep ravines, and brisk-running streams, the 
 sources of Little Eiver. About three o’clock, we encamped by 
 some pools of water in a small valley, having come about four- 
 teen miles. We had brought on a supply of provisions from 
 our last camp, and supped heartily upon stewed buffalo meat, 
 roasted venison, beignets, or fritters of flour fried in bear’s lard, 
 and tea made of a species of the golden-rod, which we had 
 found, throughout our whole route, almost as grateful a beve- 
 rage as coffee. Indeed our coffee, which, as long as it held out, 
 had been served up with every meal, according to the custom 
 of the West, was by no means a beverage to boast of. It was 
 roasted in a frying-pan, without much care, pounded in a 
 leathern bag, with a round stone, and boiled in our prime and 
 almost only kitchen utensil, the camp kettle, in ‘‘branch” or 
 brook water; which, on the prairies, is deeply colored by the 
 soil, of which it always holds abundant particles in a state of 
 solution and suspension. In fact, in the course of our tour, we 
 had tasted the quality of every variety of soil, and the draughts 
 of water we had taken might vie in diversity of color, if not of 
 flavor, with the tinctures of an apothecary’s shop. Pure, 
 limpid water is a rare luxury on the prairies, at least at this 
 season of the year. Supper over, we placed sentinels about our 
 scanty and diminished camp, spread our skins and blankets 
 under the trees, now nearly destitute of foliage, and slept 
 soundly until morning. 
 
 We had a beautiful daybreak. The camp again resounded 
 with cheerful voices; every one was animated with the 
 thoughts of soon being at the fort, and revelling on bread and 
 vegetables. Even our saturnine man, Beatte, seemed inspired 
 on this occasion ; and as he drove up the horses for the march, 
 I heard him singing, in nasal tones, a most forlorn Indian 
 ditty. All this transient gayety, however, soon died away 
 amidst the fatigues of our march, which lay through the sa^me 
 kind of rough, hilly, thicketed country as that of yesterday. 
 In the course of the morning we arrived at the valley of the 
 Little Eiver, where it wound through a broad bottom of allu- 
 vial soil. At present it had overflowed its banks, and inun- 
 dated a great part of the valley. The difficulty was to distin- 
 guish the stream from the broad sheets of water it had formed, 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 127 
 
 and to find a place where it might be forded ; for it was in 
 general deep and miry, with abrupt crumbling banks. Under 
 the pilotage of Beatte, therefore, we wandered for some time 
 among the links made by this winding stream, in what ap- 
 peared to us a trackless labyrinth of swamps, thickets, and 
 standing pools. Sometimes our jaded horses dragged their 
 limbs forward with the utmost difficulty, having to toil for a 
 great distance, with the water up to the stirrups, and beset at 
 the bottom with roots and creeping plants. Sometimes we 
 had to force our way through dense thickets of brambles and 
 grapevines, which almost pulled us out of our saddles. In one 
 place, one of the pack-horses sunk in the mire and fell on his 
 side, so as to be extricated with great difficulty. Wherever 
 the soil was bare, or there was a sand-bank, we beheld in- 
 numerable tracks of bears, wolves, wild horses, turkeys, and 
 water-fowl; sliov/ing the abundant sport this valley might 
 afford to the huntsman. Our men, however, were sated with 
 hunting, and too weary to be excited by these signs, which in 
 the outset of our tour would have put them in a fever of antici- 
 pation. Their only desire, at present, was to push on doggedly 
 for tlie fortress. 
 
 At length we succeeded in finding a fording place, where we 
 all crossed Little Eiver, with the water and mire to the saddle- 
 girths, and then halted for an hour and a half, to overhaul the 
 wet baggage, and give the horses time to rest. 
 
 On resuming our march, we came to a pleasant little mea- 
 dow, surrounded by groves of elms and cottonwood trees, in 
 the midst of which was a fine black horse grazing. Beatte, 
 who was in the advance, beckoned us to halt, and, being 
 mounted on a mare, approached the horse gently, step by step, 
 imitating the whinny of the animal with admirable exactness. 
 The noble courser of the prairie gazed for a time, snuffed the 
 air, neighed, pricked up his ears, and pranced round and round 
 ithe mare in gallant style ; but kept at too great a distance for 
 Beatte to throw the lariat. He was a magnificent object, in 
 all the pride and glory of his nature. It was admirable to see 
 the lofty and airy carriage of his head ; the freedom of every 
 movement; the elasticity with which he trod the meadow. 
 Finding it impossible to get Avithin noosing distance, and seeing 
 that the horse was receding and growing alarmed, Beatte slid 
 doAvn from his saddle, levelled his rifle across the back of his 
 mare, and took aim, with the evident intention of creasing 
 him. I felt a throb of anxiety for the safety of the noble anh 
 
128 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 mal, and called out to Beatte to desist. It was too late; ho 
 pulled the trigger as I spoke ; luckily he did not shoot with 
 his usual accuracy, and I had the satisfaction to see the coal . 
 black steed dash off unharmed into the forest. 
 
 On leaving this valley, we ascended among broken hills and 
 rugged, ragged forests, equally harassing to horse and rider. 
 The ravines, too, were of red clay, and often so steep that, in 
 descending, the horses would put their feet together and fairly 
 slide down, and then scramble up the opposite side like cats. 
 Here and there, among the thickets in the valleys, we met with 
 sloes and persimmon, and the eagerness with which our men 
 broke from the line of march, and ran to gather these poor 
 fruits, showed how much they craved some vegetable condi- 
 ment, after living so long exclusively on animal food. 
 
 About half past three we encamped near a brook in a mea- 
 dow, where there was some scanty herbage for our half -fam- 
 ished horses. As Beatte had killed a fat doe in the course of 
 the day, and one of our company a fine turkey, we did not lack 
 for provisions. 
 
 It was a splendid autimfiial evening. The horizon, after 
 sunset, was of a clear apple green, rising into a delicate lake 
 which gradually lost itself in a deep purple blue. One narrow 
 streak of cloud, of a mahogany color, edged with amber and 
 gold, floated in the west, and just beneath it was the evening 
 star, shining with the pure brilliancy of a diamond. In unison 
 with this scene, there was an evening concert of insects of 
 various kinds, all blended and harmonized into one sober and 
 somewhat melancholy note, which I have always found to 
 have a soothing effect upon the mind, disposing it to quiet 
 musings. 
 
 The night that succeeded was calm and beautiful. There 
 was a faint light from the moon, now in its second quarter, ' 
 and after it had set, a fine starlight, with shooting meteors. 
 The wearied rangers, after a little murmuring conversation 
 round their fires, sank to rest at an early hour, and I seemed 
 to have the whole scene to myself. It is delightful, in thus 
 bivouacldng on the prairies, to lie awake and gaze at the stars ; 
 it is like watching them from the deck of a ship at sea, when 
 at one view we have the whole cope of heaven. One realizes, 
 in such lonely scenes, that companionship with these beautiful 
 luminaries which made astronomers of the eastern shepherds, 
 as they watched their flocks by night. How often, while con- 
 templating their nuld and benignant radiance, I have called to 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 120 
 
 mind the exquisite text of Job: ‘‘Canstthou bind the secret 
 influences of the Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?” I do 
 not know why it was, but I felt this night unusually affected 
 by the solemn magnificence of the firmament ; and seemed, as 
 I lay thus under the open vault of heaven, to inhale with the 
 pure untainted air, an exhilarating buoyancy of spirit, and, as it 
 were, an ecstasy of mind. I slept and waked alternately ; and 
 when I slept, my dreams partook of the happy tone of my 
 waking reveries. Toward morning, one of the sentinels, the 
 oldest man in the troop, came and took a seat near me ; he 
 was weary and sleepy, and impatient to be relieved. I found 
 he had been gazing at the heavens also, but with different 
 feelings. 
 
 '‘If the stars don’t deceive me,” said he, “it is near day- 
 break.” 
 
 “There can be no doubt of that,” said Beatte, who lay close 
 by. “I heard an owl just now.” 
 
 “ Does the owl, then, hoot toward daybreak?” asked I. 
 
 “ Aye, sir, just as the cock crows.” 
 
 This was a useful habitude of the bird of wisdom, of which 
 I was not aware. Neither the stars nor owl deceived their 
 votaries. In a short time there was a faint streak of light in 
 the east. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV.* 
 
 OLD CREEK ENCAMPMENT.— SCARCITY OP PROVISIONS.— BAD 
 WEATHER.— WEARY MARCHING.— A HUNTER’S BRIDGE. 
 
 The country through which we passed this morning (Novem- 
 ber 2d), was less rugged, and of more agreeable aspect than 
 that we had lately traversed. At eleven o’clock, we came out 
 upon an extensive prairie, and about six miles to our left be- 
 held a long line of green forest, marking the course of the 
 north fork of the Arkansas. On the edge of the prairie, and 
 in a spacious grove of noble trees which overshadowed a small 
 brook, were the traces of an old Creek hunting camp. On the 
 bark of the trees were rude delineations of hunters and squaws, 
 scrawled with charcoal ; together with various signs and hiero- 
 glyphics, which our half-breeds interpreted as indicating that 
 from this encampment the hunters had returned home. 
 
130 
 
 A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 
 
 In this beautiful camping ground we made our mid-day halt. 
 While reposing under the trees, we heard a shouting at no 
 great distance, and presently the Captain and the main body 
 . of rangers, whom we had left behind two days since, emerged 
 from the thickets, and crossing the brook, were joyfully wel- 
 comed into the camp. The Captain and the Doctor had been 
 unsuccessful in the search after their horses, and were obliged 
 to march for the greater part of the time on foot ; yet they had 
 come on with more than ordinary speed. 
 
 We resumed our march about one o’clock, keeping easterly, 
 and approaching the north fork obliquely ; it was late before 
 we found a good camping place ; the beds of the streams were 
 dry, the prairies, too, had been burnt in various places, by 
 Indian hunting parties. At length we found water in a small 
 alluvial bottom, where there was tolerable pasturage. 
 
 On the following morning there were flashes of lightning in 
 the east, with low, rumbling thunder, and clouds began to 
 gather about the horizon. Beatte prognosticated rain, and 
 that the wind would veer to the north. In the course of our 
 march, a flock of brant were seen overhead, flying from the 
 north. ‘‘There comes the wind!” said Beatte; and, in fact, it 
 began to blow from that quarter almost immediately, with 
 occasional flurries of rain. About half past nine o’clock, we 
 forded the north fork of the Canadian, and encamped about 
 one, that our hunters might have time to beat up the neigh- 
 borhood for game ; for a serious scarcity began to prevail in 
 the camp. Most of the rangers were young, heedless, and 
 inexperienced, and could not be prevailed upon, while pro- 
 visions abounded, to provide for the future, by jerking meat, 
 or carry away any on their horses. On leaving an encamp- 
 ment, they would leave quantities of meat lying about, trust- 
 ing to Providence and their rifles for a future supply. The 
 consequence was, that any temporary scarcity of game, or 
 ill-luck in hunting, produced almost a famine in the camp. 
 In the present instance, they had left loads of buffalo meat at 
 the camp on the great prairie ; and, having ever since been on 
 a forced march, leaving no time for hunting, they were now 
 destitute of supplies, and pinched with hunger. Some had not 
 eaten anything since the morning of the preceding day. 
 Nothing would have persuaded them, when revelling in the 
 abundance of the buffalo encampment, that they would so 
 soon be in such famishing plight. 
 
 The hunters returned with indifferent success. The game 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 131 
 
 had been frightened away from this part of the country by 
 Indian hunting parties, which had preceded us. Ten or a 
 dozen wild turkeys were brought in, but not a deer had been 
 seen. The rangers began to think turkeys and even prairie- 
 hens deserving of attention; game which they had hitherto 
 considered unworthy of their rifles. 
 
 The night was cold and windy, with occasional sprinklings 
 of rain ; but we had roaring fires to keep us comfortable. In 
 the night, a flight of wild geese passed over the camp, making 
 a great cackling in the air ; symptoms of approaching winter. 
 
 We set forward at an early hour the next morning, in a 
 northeast course, and came upon the trace of a party of Creek 
 Indians, which enabled our poor horses to travel with more 
 ease. W e entered upon a fine champaign country. From a ris^ 
 ing ground we had a noble prospect, over extensive prairies, 
 finely diversified by groves and tracts of woodland, and 
 bounded by long lines of distant hills, all clothed with the 
 rich mellow tints of autumn. Game, too, was more plenty. 
 A fine buck sprang up from among the herbage on our right, 
 and dashed off at full speed ; but a young ranger by the name 
 of Childers, who was on foot, levelled his rifle, discharged a 
 ball that broke the neck of the bounding deer, and sent him 
 tumbling head over heels forward. Another buck and a doe, 
 besides several turkeys, were killed before we came to a halt, 
 so that the hungry mouths of the troop were once more sup- 
 plied. 
 
 About three o’clock we encamped in a grove after a forced 
 march of twenty-five miles, tha.t had proved a hard trial to 
 lihe horses. For a long time after the head of the line had 
 encamped, the rest kept straggling in, two and three at a time ; 
 one of our pack-horses had given out, about nine miles back, 
 and a pony belonging to Beatte, shortly after. Many of the 
 other horses looked so gaunt and feeble, that doubts were 
 entertained of their being able to reach the fort. In the night 
 there was heavy rain, and the morning dawned cloudy and 
 dismal. The camp resounded, however, with something of its 
 former gayety. The rangers had supped weU, and vrere reno- 
 vated in spirits, anticipating a speedy arrival at the garrison. 
 Before we set forward on our march, Beatte returned, and 
 brought his pony to the camp with great difficulty. The 
 pack-horse, however, was completely knocked up and had to 
 be abandoned. The wild mare, to, had cast her foal, through 
 exhaustion, and was not in a state to go forward. She and 
 
132 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 the pony, therefore, were left at this encampment, where 
 there was water and good pasturage ; and where there would 
 be a chance of their reviving, and being afterward sought 
 out and brought to the garrison. 
 
 We set off about eight o’clock, and had a day of weary and 
 harassing travel ; part of the time over rough hills, and part 
 over rolling prairies. 'The rain had rendered the soil slippery 
 and plashy, so as to afford unsteady foothold. Some of the 
 rangers dismounted, their horses having no longer strength to 
 bear them. We made a halt in the course of the morning, but 
 the horses were too tired to graze. Several of them lay down, 
 and there was some difficulty in getting them on their feet 
 again. Our troop presented a forlorn appearance, straggling 
 slowly along, in a broken and scattered line, that extended 
 over hill and dale, for three miles and upward, in groups of 
 three and four, widely apart; some on horseback, some on 
 foot, with a few laggards far in .the rear. About four o’clock, 
 we halted for the night in a spacious forest, beside a deep nar- 
 row river, called the Little North Fork, or Deep Creek. It 
 was late before the main part of the troop straggled into the 
 encampment, many of the horses having given out. As this 
 stream was too deep to be forded, we waited until the next 
 day to devise means to cross it ; but our half-breeds swam the 
 horses of our party to the other side in the evening, as they 
 would have better pasturage, and the stream was evidently 
 swelling. The night was cold and unruly ; the wind sounding 
 hoarsely through the forest and whirling about the dry leaves. 
 We made long fires of great trunks of trees, which diffused 
 something of consolation if not cheerfulness around. 
 
 The next morning there was general permission given to 
 hunt until twelve o’clock ; the camp being destitute of provi- 
 sions. The rich woody bottom in which we were encamped 
 abounded with wild turkeys, of which a considerable number 
 were kiUed. In the meantime, preparations were made for 
 crossing the river, which had risen several feet during the 
 night; and it was determined to fell trees for the purpose, to 
 serve as bridges. 
 
 The Captain and Doctor, and one or two other leaders of 
 the camp, versed in woodcraft, examined, with learned eye, 
 the trees growing on the river bank, until they singled out a 
 couple of the largest size, and most suitable inclinations. The 
 axe was then vigorously applied to their roots, in such a way 
 as to insure their falling directly across the stream. As they 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 133 
 
 did not reach to the opposite bank, it was necessary for some 
 of the men to swim across and fell trees on the other side, to 
 meet them. They at length succeeded in making a precarious 
 footway across the deep and rapid current, by which the bag- 
 gage could be carried over ; but it was necessary to grope our 
 way, step by step, along the trunks and main branches of the 
 trees, which for a part of the distance were completely sub- 
 merged, so that we were to our waists in water. Most of the 
 horses were then swam across, but some of them were too 
 weak to brave the current, and evidently too much knocked 
 up to bear any further travel. Twelve men, therefore, were 
 left at the encampment to guard these horses, until, by repose 
 and good pasturage, they should be sufficiently recovered to 
 complete their journey ; and the Captain engaged to send the 
 men a supply of flour and other necessaries, as soon as we 
 should arrive at the fort. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 A LOOK-OUT FOR LAND.— HARD TRAVELLING AND HUNGRY HALT- 
 ING.— A FRONTIER FARMHOUSE.— ARRIVAL AT THE GARRISON. 
 
 It was a little after one o’clock when we again resumed our 
 weary wayfaring. The residue of that day and the whole of 
 the next were spent in toilsome travel. Part of the way was 
 over stony hills, part across wide prairies, rendered spongy 
 and miry by the recent rain, and cut up by brooks swollen into 
 torrents. Our poor horses were so feeble, that it was with 
 difliculty we coifld get them across the deep ravines and turbu- 
 lent streams. In traversing the miry plains, they slipped and 
 staggered at every step, and most of us were obhged to dis- 
 moimt and walk for the greater part of the way. Hunger pre- 
 vailed throughout the troop ; every one began to look anxious 
 and haggard, and to feel the growing length of each additional 
 mile. At one time, in crossing a hill, Beatte climbed a high 
 tree, commanding a wide prospect, and took a look-out, like a 
 mariner from the mast-head at sea. He came down with 
 cheering tidings. To the left he had beheld a line of forest 
 stretching across the country, which he knew to be the woody 
 border pf the Arkajisas; and at a distance he had recognized 
 
134 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 certain landmarks, from which he concluded that we could 
 not be above forty miles distant from the fort. It was like the 
 welcome cry of land to tempest-tossed mariners. 
 
 In fact we soon after saw smoke rising from a woody glen at 
 a distance. It was supposed to be made by a hunting-party of 
 Creek or Osage Indians from the neighborhood of the fort, 
 and was joyfully hailed as a harbinger of man. It was now 
 confidently hoped that we would soon arrive among the fron- 
 tier hamlets of Creek Indians, which are scattered along the 
 skirts of the uninhabited wilderness ; and our hungry rangers 
 trudged forward with reviving spirit, regaling themselves 
 with savory anticipations of farmhouse luxuries, and enume- 
 rating every article of good cheer, until their mouths fairly 
 watered at the shadowy feasts thus conjured up. 
 
 A hungry night, however, closed in upon a toilsome day. 
 We encamped on the border of one of the tributary streams of 
 the Arkansas, amidst the ruins of a stately grove that had 
 been riven by a hurricane. The blast had torn its way through 
 the forest in a narrow column, and its course was marked by 
 enormous trees shivered and splintered, and upturned, with 
 their roots in the air ; all lay in one direction, hke so many 
 brittle reeds broken and trodden down by the hunter. 
 
 Here was fuel in abundance, without the labor of the axe ; 
 we had soon immense fires blazing and sparkling in the frosty 
 air, and lighting up the whole forest; but, alas! we had no 
 meat to cook at them. The scarcity in the camp almost 
 amounted to famine. Happy was he who had a morsel of 
 jerked meat, or even the half -picked bones of a former repast. 
 For our part, we were more lucky at our mess than our neigh- 
 bors; one of our men having shot a turkey. We had no bread 
 to eat with it, nor salt to season it withal. It was simply 
 boiled in water ; the latter was served up as soup, and we were 
 fain to rub each morsel of the turkey on the empty salt-bag, 
 in hopes some sahne particle might remain to relieve its in- 
 sipidity. 
 
 The night was biting cold ; the brilliant moonlight sparkled 
 on the frosty crystals which covered every object around us. 
 The waiter froze beside the skins on which we bivouacked, and 
 in the morning I found the blanket in which I was wrapped 
 covered wioh a hoar frost; yet I had never slept more com- 
 fortably. 
 
 After a c^iadow of a breakfast, consisting of turkey bones 
 aud a cup of coffee without sugar, we decamped at an early 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 
 
 135 
 
 hour; for hunger is a sharp quickener on a journey. The 
 prairies were all gemmed with frost, that covered the tall 
 weeds and glistened in the sun. We saw great flights of 
 prairie-hens, or grouse, that hovered from tree to tree, or sat 
 in rows along the naked branches, waiting until the sun should 
 melt the frost from the weeds and herbage. Our rangers no 
 longer despised such humble game, but turned from the ranks 
 in pursuit of a prairie-hen as eagerly as they formerly would 
 go in pursuit of a deer. 
 
 Every one now pushed forward, anxious to arrive at some 
 human habitation before night. The poor horses were urged 
 beyond their strength, in the thought of soon being able tc 
 indemnify them for present toil, by rest and ample provender. 
 Still the distances seemed to stretch out more than ever, and 
 the blue hills, pointed out as landmarks on the horizon, to 
 recede as we advanced. Every step became a labor; every 
 now and then a miserable horse would give out and he down. 
 His owner would raise him by main strength, force him for- 
 ward to the margin of some stream, where there- might be a 
 scanty border of herbage, and then abandon him to his fate. 
 Among those that were thus left on the way, was one of the 
 led horses of the Count ; a prime hunter, that had taken the 
 lead of every thing in the chase of the wild horses. It was 
 intended, however, as soon as we should arrive at the fort, to 
 send out a party provided with corn, to bring in such of the 
 horses as should survive. 
 
 In the course of the morning, we came upon Indian tracks, 
 crossing each other in various directions, a proof that we must 
 be in the neighborhood of human habitations. At length, on 
 passing through a skirt of wood, we beheld two or three log 
 houses, sheltered under lofty trees on the border of a prairie, 
 the habitations of Creek Indians, who had small farms adja- 
 cent. Had they been sumptuous villas, abounding with the 
 luxuries of civilization, they could not have been hailed with 
 greater delight. 
 
 Some of the rangers rode up to them in quest of food ; the 
 greater part, however, pushed forward in search of the habita- 
 tion of a white settler, which we were told was at no great dis- 
 tance. The troop soon disappeared among the trees, and I 
 followed slowly in their track ; for my once fleet and generous 
 steed faltered under me, and was just able to drag one foot 
 after the other, yet I was too weary and exhausted to spare him. 
 
 In this way we crept on, until, on turning a thick clump of 
 
136 
 
 A TOUR ON THE PRAlRlES. 
 
 trees, a frontier farmhouse suddenly presented itself to view. 
 It was a low tenement of logs, overshadowed by great forest 
 trees, but it seemed as if a very region of Cocaigne prevailed 
 around it. Here was a stable and barn, and granaries teem- 
 ing with abundance, while legions of grunting swine, gobbling 
 turkeys, cackling hens and strutting roosters, swarmed about 
 the farmyard. 
 
 My poor jaded and half -famished horse raised his head and 
 pricked up his ears at the well-known sights and sounds. He 
 gave a chuckling inward sound, something like a dry laugh; 
 whisked liis tail, and made great leeway toward a corn-crib, 
 filled with golden ears of maize, and it was with some difficulty 
 that I could control his course, and steer him up to the door 
 of the cabin. A single glance within was sufficient to raise 
 every gastronomic faculty. There sat the Captain of the 
 rangers and his officers, round a three-legged table, crowned 
 by a broad and smoking dish of boiled beef and turnips. I 
 sprang off my horse in an instant, cast him loose to make his 
 way to the corn-crib, and entered this palace of plenty. A fat 
 good-humored negress received me at the door. She was the 
 mistress of the house, the spouse of the white man, who was 
 absent. I hailed her as some swart fairy of the wild, that had 
 suddenly conjured up a banquet in the desert; and a banquet 
 was it in good sooth. In a twinkling, she lugged from the fire 
 a huge iron pot, that might have rivalled one of the famous 
 flesh-pots of Egypt, or the witches’ caldron in Macbeth. 
 Placing a brown earthen dish on the floor, she inclined the 
 corpulent caldron on one side, and out leaped sundry great 
 morsels of beef, with a regiment of turnips tumbling after 
 them, and a rich cascade of broth overflowing the whole. 
 This she handed me with an ivory smile that extended from 
 ear to ear; apologizing for our humble fare, and the humble 
 style in which it was served up. Humble fare ! humble style ! 
 Boiled beef and turnips, and an earthen dish to eat them from ! 
 To think of apologizing for such a treat to a half -starved man 
 from the prairies; and then such magnificent shces of bread 
 and butter ! Head of Apicius, what a banquet ! 
 
 “The rage of hunger” being appeased, I began to think of 
 my horse. He, however, like an old campaigner, had taken 
 good care of himself. I found him paying assiduous attention 
 to the crib of Indian corn, and dexterously drawing forth and 
 munching the ears that protruded between the bars. It was 
 with great regret that I interrupted his repast, which he 
 
A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 
 
 157 
 
 abandoned with a heavy sigh, or rather a rumbling groan. I 
 was anxious, however, to rejoin my travelhng companions, 
 who had passed by the farmhouse without stopping, and pro- 
 ceeded to the banks of the Arkansas ; being in hopes of arriv- 
 ing before night at the Osage Agency. Leaving the Captain 
 and his troop, therefore, amidst the abundance of the farm, 
 where they had determined to quarter themselves for the night, 
 I bade adieu to our sable hostess, and again pushed forward. 
 
 A ride of about a mile brought me to where my comrades 
 were waiting on the banks of the Arkansas, which here poured 
 along between beautiful forests. A number of Creek Indians, 
 in their brightly colored dresses, looking like so many gay 
 tropical birds, were busy aiding our men to transport the bag- 
 gage across the river in a canoe. While this was doing, our 
 horses had another regale from two great cribs heaped up 
 with ears of Indian corn, which stood near the edge of the 
 river. We had to keep a check upon the poor half-famished 
 animals, lest they should injure themselves by their voracity. 
 
 The baggage being all carried to the opposite bank, we em- 
 barked in the canoe, and swam our horses across the river. I 
 was fearful, lest in their enfeebled state, they should not be 
 able to stem the current ; but their banquet of Indian corn had 
 already infused fresh life and spirit into them, and it would 
 appear as if they were cheered by the instinctive conscious- 
 ness of their approach to home, where they would soon be at 
 rest, and in plentiful quarters ; for no sooner had we landed 
 and resumed our route, than they set off on a hand-gallop, and 
 continued so for a great part of seven miles, that we had to 
 ride through the woods. 
 
 It was an early hour in the evening when we arrived at the 
 Agency, on the banks of the Verdigris Eiver, whence we had 
 set off about a month before. Here we passed the night com- 
 tortably quartered; yet, after having been accustomed to 
 sleep in the open air, the confinement of a chamber was, in 
 some respects, irksome. The atmosphere seemed close, and 
 destitute of freshness; and when I woke in the night and 
 gazed about me upon complete darkness, I missed the glorious 
 companionship of the stars. 
 
 The next morning, after breakfast, I again set forward, in 
 company with the worthy Commissioner, for Fort Gibson, 
 where we arrived much tattered, travel-stained, and weather- 
 beaten, but in high health and spirits; — and thus ended my 
 foray into the Pawnee Hunting Grounds. 
 
* ' . A - C ■ 
 
THE ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 
 
 BY 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 rHE F. M. LUPTON PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
 Nos. 72-76 Walker Street. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTICE 
 
 While engaged in writing an account of the grand enter- 
 prise of Astoria, it was my practice to seek all kinds of oral 
 information connected with the subject. Nowhere did I pick 
 up more interesting particulars than at the table of Mr. John 
 Jacob Astor, who, being the patriarch of the fur trade in the 
 United States, was accustomed to have at his board various 
 persons of adventurous turn, some of whom had been engaged 
 in his own great undertaking; others, on their own account, 
 had made expeditions to the Rocky Mountains and the waters 
 of the Columbia. 
 
 Among these personages, one who peculiarly took my fancy 
 was Captain Bonneville, of the United States army; who, in a 
 rambling kind of enterprise, had strangely ingrafted the trap- 
 per and hunter upon the soldier. As his expeditions and ad- 
 ventures will form the leading theme of the following pages, a 
 few biographical particulars concerning him may not be unac- 
 ceptable. 
 
 Captain Bonneville is of French parentage. His father was 
 a worthy old emigrant, who came to this country many years 
 since, and took up his abode in New York. He is represented 
 as a man not much calculated for the sordid struggle of a 
 money-making world, but possessed of a happy temperament, 
 a festivity of imagination, and a simplicity of heart that made 
 him proof against its rubs and trials. He was an excellent 
 scholar ; well acquainted, with Latin and Greek, and fond of 
 the modern classics. His book was his elysium; once im- 
 mersed in the pages of Voltaire, Corneille, or Racine, or of his 
 favorite English author, Shakspeare, he forgot the world and 
 all its concerns. Often would he be seen, in sumrner weather, 
 seated under one of the trees on the Battery, or the portico of 
 St. Paul’s Church in Broadway, his bald head uncovered, his 
 hat lying by his side, his eyes riveted to the page of his book, 
 
4 
 
 INmODUGTORY NOTICE, 
 
 and his whole soul so engaged as to lose all consciousness of the 
 passing throng or the passing hour. 
 
 Captain Bonneville, it will he found, inherited something of 
 his father’s honhomie^ and his excitable imagination ; though 
 the latter was somewhat disciplined in early years by mathe^ 
 matical studies. He was educated at our national Military 
 Academy at West Point, where he acquitted himself very 
 creditably ; thence, he entered the army, in which he has ever 
 since continued. 
 
 The nature of our military service took him to the frontier, 
 where, for a number of years he was stationed at various 
 posts in the Far West. Here he was brought into frequent 
 intercourse with Indian traders, mountain trappers, and other 
 pioneers of the wilderness; and became so excited by their 
 tales of wild scenes and wild adventures, and their accounts of 
 vast and magnificent regions as yet unexplored, that an expe- 
 dition to the Eocky Mountains became the ardent desire of his 
 heart, and an enterprise to explore untrodden tracts, the lead- 
 ing object of his ambition. 
 
 By degrees he shaped his vague day-dream into a practical 
 reality. Having made himself acquainted with all the requi- 
 sites for a trading enterprise beyond the mountains, he deter- 
 mined to undertake it. A leave of absence and a sanction of 
 his expedition was obtained from the major-general in chief, 
 on his offering to combine public utility with his private pro- 
 jects, and to collect statistical information for the War De- 
 partment concerning the wild countries and wild tribes he 
 might visit in the course of his journey ings. 
 
 Nothing now was wanting to the darling project of the cap- 
 tain but the ways and means. The expedition would require 
 an outfit of many thousand dollars ; a staggering obstacle to 
 a soldier, whose capital is seldom anything more than his 
 sword. F'ull of that buoyant hope, however, which belongs to 
 the sanguine temperament, he repaired to New York, the 
 great focus of American enterprise, where there are always 
 funds ready for any scheme, however chimerical or romantic. 
 Here he had the good fortune to meet with a gentleman of 
 high respectability and influence, who had been his associate 
 in boyhood, and who cherished a schoolfellow friendship for 
 him. He took a general interest in the scheme of the captain ; 
 introduced him to commercial men of his acquaintance, and in 
 a little while an association was formed, and the necessary 
 funds were raised to carry the proposed measure into effect 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 
 
 5 
 
 One of the most efficient persons in this association was Mr. 
 Alfred Seton, who, when quite a youth, had accompanied one 
 of the expeditions sent out by Mr. Astor to his commercial es- 
 tablishments on the Columbia, and had distinguished himself 
 by his activity and courage at one of the interior posts. Mr. 
 Seton was one of the American youths who were at Astoria at 
 the time of its surrender to the British, and who manifested 
 such grief and indignation at seeing the flag of their country 
 hauled down. The hope of seeing that flag once more planted 
 on the shores of the Columbia may have entered into his mo- 
 tives for engaging in the present enterprise. 
 
 Thus backed and provided. Captain Bonneville undertook 
 his expedition into the Far West, and was soon beyond the 
 Eocky Mountains. Year after year elapsed without his re- 
 turn. The term of his leave of absence expired, yet no re- 
 port was made of him at headquarters at Washington. He 
 was considered virtually dead or lost, and his name was 
 stricken from the army list. 
 
 It was in the autumn of 1835, at the country seat of Mr. 
 John Jacob Astor, at Hellgate, that I first met with Captain 
 Bonneville. He was then just returned from a residence of 
 upward of three years among the mountains, and was on his 
 way to report himself at headquarters, in the hopes of being 
 reinstated in the service. From all that I could learn, his 
 wanderings in the wilderness, though they had gratifled his 
 curiosity and his love of adventure, had not much benefited 
 his fortunes. Like Corporal Trim in his campaigns, he had 
 “ satisfied the sentiment,” and that was all. In fact, he was 
 too much of the frank, freehearted soldier, and had inherited 
 too much of his father’s temperament, to make a scheming 
 trapper, or a thrifty bargainer. There was something in the 
 whole appearance of the captain that prepossessed me in his 
 favor. He was of the middle size, well made and well set ; and 
 a military frock of foreign cut, that had seen service, gave 
 him a look of compactness. His countenance was frank, open, 
 and engaging; well browned by the sun, and had something of 
 a French expression. He had a pleasant black eye, a high fore- 
 head, and, while he kept his hat on, the look of a man in the 
 jocund prime of his days; but the moment his head was un- 
 covered, a bald crown gained him credit for a few 'more years 
 than he was really entitled to. 
 
 Being extremely curious, at the time, about everything con- 
 nected Ynth the Far West, I addressed numerous questions to 
 
6 
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE, 
 
 him. They drew from him a number of extremely striking de 
 tails, which were given with mingled modesty and frankness; 
 and in a gentleness of manner, and a soft tone of voice, contrast- 
 ing singularly with the wild and often startling nature of his 
 themes. It was difl&cult to conceive the mild, quiet-looking 
 personage before you, the actual hero of the stirring scenes 
 related. 
 
 In the course of three or four months, happening to be at the 
 city of Washington, I again came upon the captain, who was 
 attending the slow adjustment of his affairs with the War De- 
 partment. I found him quartered with a worthy brother in 
 arms, a major in the army. Here he was writing at a table, 
 covered with maps and papers, in the centre of a large bar- 
 rack room, fancifully decorated with Indian arms, and tro- 
 phies, and war dresses, and the skins of various wild animals, 
 and hung round with pictures of Indian games and ceremonies, 
 and scenes of war and hunting. In a word, the captain was 
 beguiling the tediousness of attendance at court by an attempt 
 at authorship ; and was rewriting and extending his travelling 
 notes, and making maps of the regions he had explored. As 
 he sat at the table, in this curious apartment, with his high 
 bald head of somewhat foreign cast, he reminded me of some 
 of those antique pictures of authors that I have seen in old 
 Spanish volumes. 
 
 The result of his labors was a mass of manuscript, which he 
 subsequently put at my disposal, to fit it for publication and 
 bring it before the world. I found it full of interesting details 
 of life among the mountains, and of the singular castes and 
 races, both white men and red men, among whom he had 
 sojourned. It bore, too, throughout, the impress of his charac- 
 ter, his bonhomie^ his kindliness of spirit, and his susceptibility 
 to the grand and beautiful. 
 
 That manuscript has formed the staple of the following 
 work. I have occasionally interwoven facts and details, 
 gathered from various sources, especially from the conversa- 
 tions and journals of some of the captain’s contemporaries, 
 who were actors in the scenes he describes. I have also given 
 it a tone and coloring drawn from my own observation during 
 an excursion into the Indian country beyond the bounds of 
 civilization ; as I before observed, however, the work is sub- 
 stantially the narrative of the worthy captain, and many of 
 its most graphic passages are but Uttle varied from his own 
 language. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 
 
 7 
 
 I shall conclude this notice by a dedication which ho had 
 made of his manuscript to his hospitable brother in arms, in 
 whose quarters I found him occupied in his literary labors ; it 
 is a dedication which, I believe, possesses the qualities, not 
 always found in complimentary documents of the kind, of 
 being sincere, and being merited. 
 
 TO 
 
 JAMES HARVEY HOOK, 
 
 MAJOR, U. S. A., 
 
 WHOSE JEALOUSY OF ITS HONOR, 
 
 WHOSE ANXIETY FOR ITS INTERESTS, 
 
 AND 
 
 WHOSE SENSIBILITY FOR ITS WANTS, 
 
 HAVE ENDEARED HIM TO THE SERVICE AS 
 
 2T8e SolliCer's iTrienlr; 
 
 AND WHOSE GENERAL AMENITY, CONSTANT CHEERFULNESS, 
 DISINTERESTED HOSPITALITY, AND UNWEARIED 
 BENEVOLENCE, ENTITLE HIM TO THE 
 STILL LOFTIER TITLE OF 
 
 THE FRIEND OF MAN, 
 
 New York, 1843, 
 
 THIS WORK IS INSCRIBBDi 
 ETC. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 CONTEKTS. 
 
 Introductory Notice 
 
 PAGE 
 
 3 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 State of the Fur Trade of the Rocky Mountains— American enterprise— General 
 Ashley and his associates — Sublette, a famous leader — yearly rendezvous 
 among the mountains— stratagems and dangers of the trade— bands of trap- 
 pers— Indian banditti— Crows and Blackfeet— Mountaineers— traders of the 
 Far West— character and habits of the trapper 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Departure from Fort Osage— modes of transportation— pack-horses— wagons— 
 Walker and Cerr6— their characters— buoyant feelings on launching upon the 
 Prairies— wild equipments of the trappers— their gambols and antics— differ- 
 ence of character between the American and French trappers— Agency of the 
 Kansas— General Clarke— White Plume, the Indian chief — night scene in a 
 trader’s camp — colloquy between White Plume and the captain— bee-hunters 
 — their expeditions— their feuds with the Indians— bargaining talent of White 
 Plume 24 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 Wide Prairies— vegetable productions —tabular hills— slabs of sandstone— 
 Nebraska, or Platte River— scanty fare— buffalo skulls— wagons turned into 
 boats— herds of buffalo— cliffs resembling castles— The Chimney — Scott’s 
 Bluffs— story connected with them— the Bighorn or Ahsahta— its nature and 
 habits— difference between that and the “Woolly Sheep,” or Goat of , the 
 Mountains 31 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 An alarm— Crow Indians— their appearances— mode of approach— their venge- 
 ful eri'and— their curiosity— hostility between the Crows and Blackfeet — lov- 
 
10 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ing conduct of the Crows— Larmie’s Fork— first navigation of the Nebraska- 
 Great elevation of the [country— rarity of the atmosphere— its effect, on the 
 woodwork of wagons— Black Hills— their wild and broken scenery— Indian 
 dogs— Crow trophies— sterile and dreary country— banks of the Sweet Water 
 —buffalo hunting— adventure of Tom Cain, the Irish cook 36 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Magnificent scenery— Wind River Mountains— treasury of waters— a stray horse 
 —an Indian trail— trout streams— the great Green River valley— an alarm— a 
 band of trappers— Fontenelle— his information— sufferings of thii*st— encamp- 
 ment on the Seeds-Ke-Dee— strategy of rival traders— fortification of the camp 
 —the Blackfeet— banditti of the mountains— their character and habits 44 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Sublette and his band— Robert Campbell— Mr. Wyeth and a band of “Down- 
 Easters”— Yankee enterprise— Fitzpatrick— his adventure with the Blackfeet 
 —a rendezvous of mountaineers— the battle of Pierre’s Hole— an Indian am- 
 buscade— Sublette’s return 51 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 Retreat of the Blackfeet— Fontenelle’s camp in danger— Captain Bonneville and 
 the Blackfeet — free trappers — their character, habits, [dress, equipments, 
 horses— game fellows of the mountains— their visit to the camp— good fellow- 
 ship and good cheer— a carouse— a swagger, a brawl, and a reconciliation. ... 61 
 
 CHAPTER Vin. 
 
 Plans for the winter— Salmon River— abundance of salmon west of the moun- 
 tains — new arrangements — caches— Cerr^’s detachment— movement in Fon- 
 tenelle’s camp— departure of the Blackfeet— their fortunes — Wind [Mountain 
 streams — Buckeye, the Delaware hunter, and the grizzly bear — bones of mur- 
 dered travellers— visit to Pierre's Hole-traces of the battle— Nez Perc6s In- 
 dians — arrival at Salmon River 65 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Horses turned loose — preparations for winter quarters— hungry times — Nez 
 Perces, their honesty, piety, pacific habits, religious ceremonies— Captain Bon- 
 neville’s conversations with them— their love of gambling 71 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Blackfeet in the horse prairie— search after the hunters— difficulties and dangers 
 — a card party in the wilderness — the card party interrupted— “ Old Sledge” a 
 losing game— visitors to the camp — ^Iroquois hunters— hanging-eared Indians.. 75 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Rival trapping parties — Manoeuvering — a desperate game — ^Vanderburgh and the 
 Blackfeet— deserted camp— fire— a dark defile —an Indian ambush— a fierce 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 11 
 
 t»AGE 
 
 mel6e— fatal consequences— Fitzpatrick and the brldge—trappers’ precautiobs 
 — meeting with the Blackfeet — more fighting— anecdote of a young Mexican 
 and an Indian girl 7 ^ 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A winter camp in the wilderness— medley of trappers, hunters, and Indians— 
 scarcity of game— new arrangements in the camp— detachments sent to a dis- 
 tance-carelessness of the Indians when encamped — sickness among the In- 
 dians— excellent character of the Nez Perc6s— the Captain’s effort as a pacifi- 
 cator — a Nez Perc4s argument in favor of war— robberies by the Blackfeet — 
 long suffering of the Nez Perces— a him ter ’s Elysium among the mountains — 
 more robberies— the Captain preaches up a crusade— the effect upon his 
 
 hearers 84 
 
 CHAPTER Xm. 
 
 Story of Kosato, the renegade Blackfoot 92 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The party enters the mountain gorge— a wild fastness among the hills— moun- 
 tain mutton— peace and plenty— the amorous trapper— a piebald wedding— a 
 free trapper’s wife~her gala equipments— Christmas in the wilderness 95 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A hunt after hunters— hungry times— a voracious repast— wintry weather — 
 Godin’s River— splendid winter scene on the great lava plain of Snake River- 
 severe travelling and tramping in the snow — Manoeuvres of a solitary Indian 
 horseman — encampment on Snake River— Banneck Indians— the horse chief— 
 his charmed life - 101 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Misadventures of Matthieu and his party— return to the caches at Salmon River 
 —battle between Nez Perces and Blackfeet— heroism of ft Nez Perc4s woman 
 — enrolled among the braves - * lOT 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Opening of the caches— detachments of Cerr6 and Hodgkiss— Salmon River 
 Mountains— superstition of an Indian trapper— Godin’s River— preparations 
 for trapping — an alarm— an interruption — a rival band — phenomena of Snake 
 River plain— vast clefts and chasms— ingulfed streams— sublime scen^y— a 
 grand buffalo hunt ^ 112 
 
 CHAPTER XVIH. 
 
 Meeting with Hodgkiss— misfortunes of the Nez Perc6s— schemes of Kosato, the 
 renegade — his foray into the horse prairie— invasion of Blackfeet— Blue John 
 and his Forlorn Hope— their generous enterprise— their fate— consternation 
 and despair of the village— solemn obsequies — attempt at Indian trade — Hud- 
 son’s Bay Company’s monopoly — arrangements for autumn— breaking up of 
 an encampment 11? 
 
12 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 -- PACiE 
 
 Precautions in dangerous defiles— trappers’ mode of defence on a prairie— a 
 mysterious visitor— arrival in Green River Valley— adventures of the detach- 
 ments— the forlorn partisan— his tale of disasters 134 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Gathering in Green River Valley— visi tings and feastingsof leaders— rough was- 
 sailing among the trappers— wild blades of the mountains— Indian belles— 
 potency of bright beads and red blankets— arrival of supplies— revelry and ex- 
 travagance-mad wolves— the lost Indian 129 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Schemes of Captain Bonneville— the great Salt Lake— expedition to explore it— 
 preparations for a journey to the Bighorn 133 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The Crow country— the Crow paradise— habits of the Crows— anecdotes of Rose, 
 the renegade white man— his fights with the Blackfeet — his elevation— his 
 death— Arapooish, the Crow chief— his eagle —adventure of Robert Campbell 
 —honor among the Crows 135 
 
 CHAPTER XXm. 
 
 Departure from Green River Valley— Popo Agie— its course— the rivers into 
 which it runs —scenery of the bluffs— the great Jar Spring— volcanic tracts in 
 the Crow country— burning mountain of Powder River— Sulphur Springs — 
 hidden fires — Colter’s Hell— Wind River— Campbell’s party— Fitzpatrick and 
 his trappers — Captain Stewart, an amateur traveller — Nathaniel Wyeth— anec- 
 dotes of his expedition to the Far West — disaster of Campbell’s party— a union 
 of bands— the bad pass— the Rapids — departure of Fitzpatrick — embarkation 
 of Peltries— Wyeth and his bull boat— adventures of Captain Bonneville in the 
 Bighorn Mountains— adventures in the plains— traces of Indians— travelling 
 precautions— dangers of making a smoke— the rendezvous 141 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Adventures of [a party of ten— the Balaamite mule— a dead point— the mysteri- 
 ous elks— a night attack— a retreat— travelling under an alarm— a joyful meet- 
 ing-adventures of the other party — a decoy elk— retreat to an island — a sav- 
 age dance of triumph— arrival at Wind River 148 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Captain Bonneville sets out for Green River Valley— journey up the Popo Agie 
 — buffaloes — the staring white bears— the smoke — the Warm Springs — attempt 
 to traverse the Wind River Mountains— the great slope— mountain dells and 
 chasms— crystal lakes— ascent of a snowy peak— sublime prospect— a pano- 
 rama— “ Les dignes de Pitie,” or Wild Men of the Mountains 163 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 13 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ^ retrograde move— Channel of a mountain torrent— Alpine scenery— cascades 
 —beaver valleys— beavers at work— their architecture— their modes of felling 
 trees— mode of trapping the beaver— contests of skill— a beaver “ up to trap ” 
 —arrival at the Green River caches i« 5 q 
 
 CHAPTER XXVH. 
 
 Route towards Wind River— dangerous neighborhood— alarms and precautions 
 —a sham encampment— apparition of an Indian spy— midnight move— a 
 mountain defile— the Wind River valley— tracking a party— deserted camps 
 — symptoms^of Crows— meeting of comrades— a trapper entrapped— Crow 
 pleasantry— Crow spies— a decampment— return to Green River Valley- 
 meeting with Fitzpatrick’s party— their adventures among the Crows— ortho- 
 dox Crows 16 g 
 
 CHAPTER XXVHL 
 
 A region of natural curiosities — the plain of white clay — Hot Springs — the Beer 
 Spring — departure to seek the trappers — plain of Portneuf— lava— chasms and 
 gullies— Banneck Indians— their hunt of the buffalo— hunters’ feast— trencher 
 heroes — bullying of an absent foe — the damp comrade — Indian spy — meeting 
 with Hodgkiss— his adventures — Poordevil Indians — triumph of the Bannecks 
 — Blackfeet policy in war 171 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Winter camp at the Portneuf— fine springs— the Banneck Indians— their honesty 
 — Captain Bonneville prepares for an expedition — Christmas— the American 
 Falls— wild scenery— Fishing Falls— Snake Indians— scenery of the Bruneau— 
 view of the volcanic country from a mountain— Powder River— Shoshokoes, 
 or Root Diggers— their character, habits, habitations, dogs— vanity at its last 
 shift 178 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Temperature of the climate— Root Diggers on horse— an Indian guide— moun- 
 ^ tain prospects— the Grand Rond— difficulties on Snake River— a scramble over 
 the Blue Mountains— sufferings from hunger— prospect of the Immahah Val- 
 ley— the exhausted traveller 186 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Progress in the Valley— an Indian cavalier— the Captain falls into a lethargy— 
 a Nez Pereas partriarch— hospitable treatment— the bald head— bargaining 
 —value of an old plaid cloak— the family horse— the cost of an Indian present 192 
 
 CHAPTER XXXH. 
 
 Nez Perc4s camp— a chief with a hard name— the big hearts of the East— hos- 
 pitable treatment — the Indian guides— mysterious councils — the loquacious 
 
14 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 chief— Indian tomb— grand Indian reception— an Indian feast— town-criers— 
 honesty of the Nez Perc6s— the Captain’s attempt at healing 198 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Scenery of the Way -Lee-Way —a substitute for tobacco— sublime scenery of 
 Snake River— the garrulous old chief and his cousin— a Nez Pereas meeting— 
 a stolen skin— a scapegoat dog— mysterious conferences— the little chief —his 
 hospitality— the Captain’s account of the United States— his healing skill 205 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Fort Wallah- Wallah— its commander— Indians in its neighborhood— exertions 
 of Mr. Pambrune for their improvement— religion— code of laws— range of the 
 lower Nez Perces — Camash and other roots — Nez Perces horses — preparations 
 for departure— refusal of supplies— departure— a laggard and glutton 212 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 The uninvited guest— free and easy manners— salutary jokes— a prodigal son — 
 exit of the glutton— a sudden change in fortune— danger of a visit to poor 
 relations— plucking of a prosperous man— a vagabond toilet— a substitute for 
 the very fine horse— hard travelling— the uninvited guest and the patriarchal 
 colt— a beggar on horseback— a catastrophe— exit of the merry vagabond 216 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 The difficult mountain— a smoke and consultation— the Captain’s speech— an 
 icy turnpike— danger of a false step— arrival on Snake River— return to Port- 
 neuf— meeting of comrades 222 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Departure for the rendezvous— a war party of Blackfeet— a mock bustle— sham 
 fights at night — warlike precautions— dangers of a night attack— a panic 
 among horses — cautious march— the Beer Springs — a mock carousal— skir- 
 mishing with buffaloes — a buffalo bait — arrival at the rendezvous— meeting 
 of various bands • 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVHI. 
 
 Plan of the Salt Lake expedition — great sandy deserts— sufferings from thirst 
 —Ogden’s River— trails and smoke of lurking Indians— thefts at night— a trap- 
 per’s revenge — alarms of a guilty conscience— a murderous victory — Califor- 
 nian Mountains— plains along the Pacific— Arrival at Monterey — account of 
 the place and neighborhood— Lower California — its extent — the peninsula— 
 soil— climate— production— its settlement by the Jesuits— their sway over the 
 Indians— their expulsion— ruins of a missionary establishment— sublime scen- 
 ery— Upper California— missions— their power and policy— reso^^’ces of the 
 country — designs of foreign nations 231 
 
f 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 15 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Gay life at Monterey— Mexican horsemen— a bold dragoon— use of the lasso— 
 Vaqueros— noosing a bear— fight between a bull and a bear— departure from 
 Monterey— Indian horse-stealers— outrages committed by the travellers— 
 indignation of Captain Bonneville 238 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Travellers’ tales— Indian lurkers— prognostics of Buckeye— signs and portents— 
 the Medicine wolf— an alarm— an ambush— the captured provant— triumph of 
 Buckeye— arrival of supplies— grand carouse— arrangements for the year— 
 
 Mr. Wyeth and his new- levied band 242 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 A voyage in a bull boat * 246 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 Departure of Captain Bonneville for the Columbia— advance of Wyeth — efforts 
 to keep the lead— Hudson’s Bay party— a junketing— a delectable beverage- 
 honey and alcohol — high carousing — the Canadian “bon vivant’’ — a cache — 
 a rapid move— Wyeth and his plans— his travelling companions— buffalo hunt- 
 ing-more conviviality — an interruption 259 
 
 CHAPTER XLIH. 
 
 A rapid march— a cloud of dust— wild horsemen— “ High jinks ’’-horse-racing 
 and rifle shooting — the game of hand— the fishing season — mode of fishing — 
 table lands — salmon fishers — the Captain’s visit to an Indian lodge — the Indian 
 girl— the pocket mirror— supper— troubles of an evil conscience 264 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 Outfit of a trapper— risks to which he is subjected — partnership of trappers— 
 enmity of Indians — distant smoke— a country on fire — Gun Creek — Grand 
 Rond— fine pastures— perplexities in a smoky country — conflagration of 
 forests 269 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 The Skynses— their traffic— hunting— food— horses— a horse-race— devotional 
 feeling of the Skynses, Nez Pereas, and Flatheads— prayers— exhortations — 
 a preacher on horseback— effect of religion on the manners of the tribes— 
 a new light 273 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 Scarcity in the camp— refusal of supplies by the Hudson’s Bay Company— con- 
 duct of the Indians— a hungry retreat— John Day’s River— the Blue Moun- 
 
16 
 
 CONTE'NTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 tains— salmon fishing on Snake River — messengers from the Crow country— Bear 
 River Valley- immense immigration of Buffalo— danger of buffalo hunting— a 
 wounded Indian— Eutaw Indians— a “ surround ” of antelopes 277 
 
 CHAPTER XLVn. 
 
 A festive winter— conversion of the Shoshonies— visit of two free trappers— gayety in 
 the camp— a touch of the tender passion— the reclaimed squaw— an Indian fine 
 lady— an elopement— a pursuit— market value of a bad wife 283 
 
 CHAPTER XLVm. 
 
 Breaking up of winter quarters— move to Green River— a trapper and his rifle— an 
 arrival in camp— a free trapper and his squaw in distress— story of a Blackfoot 
 belle 28T 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 Rendezvous at Wind River— campaign of Montero and his brigade in the Crow coun- 
 try-wars between the Crows and the Blackfeet— death of Arapooish— Blackfeet 
 lurkers— sagacity of the horse— dependence of the hunter on his horse— return to the 
 settlements.. . - 291 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Nathaniel J. Wyeth and the trade of the Far West 298 
 
 Wreck of a Japanese Junk on the Northwest Coast 300 
 
Adventures of Captain Bonneville. 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 STATE OF THE FUR TRADE OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS — AMERICAN 
 
 ENTERPRISES GENERAL ASHLEY AND HIS ASSOCIATES SUBLETTE, 
 
 A FAMOUS LEADER YEARLY RENDEZVOUS AMONG THE MOUNTAINS 
 
 STRATAGEMS AND DANGERS OF THE TRADE BANDS OF TRAPPERS 
 
 INDIAN BANDITTI CROWS AND BLACKFEET MOUNTAINEERS 
 
 TRADERS OF THE FAR WEST CHARACTER AND HABITS OF THE 
 
 TRAPPER. 
 
 / 
 
 ’ In a recent work we have given an account of the grand enter- 
 prise of Mr. John Jacob Astor, to establish an American empo- 
 rium for the fur trade at the mouth of the Columbia, or Oregon 
 Eiver ; of the failure of that enterprise through the capture of 
 Astoria by the British, in 1814 ; and of the way in which the 
 control of the trade of the Columbia and its dependencies fell 
 into the hands of the Northwest Company. We have stated, 
 likewise, the unfortunate supineness of the American Govern- 
 ment, in neglecting the application of Mr. Astor for the protec- 
 tion of the American flag, and a small military force, to enable 
 him to reinstate himself in the possession of Astoria at the re- 
 turn of peace ; when the post was formally given up by the 
 British Government, though still occupied by the Northwest 
 Company. By that supineness the sovereignty in the country 
 has been virtually lost to the United States ; and it will cost 
 both governments much trouble and difficulty to settle matters 
 on that just and rightful footing, on which they would readily 
 have been placed, had the proposition of Mr. Astor been at- 
 tended to. We shall now state a few particulars of subsequent 
 events, so as to lead the reader up to the period of which we 
 
18 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 are about to treat, and to prepare him for the circumstances of 
 our narrative. 
 
 In consequence of the apathy and neglect of the American 
 Government, Mr. Astor abandoned aU thoughts of regaining 
 Astoria, and made no further attempt to extend his enterprises 
 beyond the Eocky Mountains; and the Northwest Company 
 considered themselves the lords of the country. They did not 
 long enjoy unmolested the sway which they had somewhat sur- 
 reptitiously attained. A fierce competition ensued between them 
 and their old rivals, the Hudson’s Bay Company ; which was 
 carried on at great cost and sacrifice, and occasionally with 
 the loss of life. It ended in the ruin of most of the partners of 
 the Northwest Company; and the merging of the relics of that 
 establishment, in 1821, in the rival association. From that 
 time, the Hudson’s Bay Company enjoyed a monopoly of the 
 Indian trade from the coast of the Pacific to the Eocky Moun- 
 tains, and for a considerable extent north and south. They 
 removed their emporium from Astoria to Fort Vancouver, a 
 strong post on the left bank of the Columbia Eiver, about sixty 
 miles from its mouth; whence they furnished their interior 
 posts, and sent forth their brigades of trappers. 
 
 The Eocky Mountains formed a vast baiTier between them 
 and the United States, and their stern and awful defiles, their 
 rugged valleys, and the great western plains watered by their 
 rivers, remained almost a terra incognita to the American 
 trapper. The difficulties experienced in 1808, by Mr. Henry, of 
 the Missouri Company, the first American who trapped upon 
 the head- waters of the Columbia ; and the frightful hardships 
 sustained by Wilson P. Hunt, Eamsay Crooks, Eobert Stuart, 
 and other intrepid Astorians, in their ill-fated expeditions 
 across the mountains, appeared for a time to check ah further 
 enterprise in that direction. The American traders contented 
 themselves with following up the head branches of the Mis^ 
 souri, the Yellowstone, und other rivers and streams on the 
 Atlantic side of ffie mountains, but forbore to attempt those 
 great snow-crowned sierras. 
 
 One of the first to reviv^e these tramontane expeditions was 
 General Ashley, of Missouri, a man whose courage and achieve- 
 ments in the prosecution of his enterprises have rendered him 
 famous in the Far West. In conjunction with Mr. Henry, al- 
 ready mentioned, he established a post on the banks of the 
 Yellowstone Eiver, in 1822, and in the following year pushed a 
 resolute band of trappers across the mountains to the banks of 
 
ABVEJNTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNE VILDE, 
 
 19 
 
 the Green Kiver or Colorado of the West, often known by tli( 
 Indian name of the Seeds-ke-dee Agie.* This attempt was fol- 
 lowed up and sustained by others, until in 1825 a footing was 
 secured, and a complete system of trapping organized beyona 
 the mountains. 
 
 It is difficult to do justice to the courage, foi^titude, and per- 
 severance of the pioneers of the fur trade, who conducted these 
 early expeditions, and first broke their way through a wilder- 
 ness where everything was calculated to deter and dismay 
 them. They had to traverse the most dreary and desolate 
 mountains, and barren and trackless wastes, uninhabited by 
 man, or occasionally infested by predatory and cruel savages. 
 They knew nothing of the country beyond the verge of their 
 horizon, and had to gather information as they wandeiw 
 They beheld volcanic plains stretching around them, and 
 ranges of mountains piled up to the clouds and glistening with 
 eternal frost ; but knew nothing of their defiles, nor how they 
 were to be penetrated or traversed. They launched themselves 
 in frail canoes on rivers, without knowing whither their swift 
 currents would carry them, or what rocks, and shoals, and 
 rapids, they might encounter in their course. They had to be 
 continually on the alert, too, against the mountain tribes, who 
 beset every defile, laid ambuscades in their path, or attacked 
 them in their night encampments ; so that, of the hardy bands 
 of trappers that first entered into these regions, three fifths are 
 said to have fallen by the hands of savage foes. 
 
 In this wild and warlike school a number of leaders have 
 sprung up, originally in the employ, subsequently partners of 
 Ashley; among these we may mention Smith, Fitzpatrick, 
 Bridger, Eobert Campbell, and William Sublette; whose adven- 
 tures and exploits partake of the wildest spirit of romance. 
 The association commenced by General Ashley underwent va^ 
 rious modifications. That gentleman having acquired suffi- 
 cient fortune, sold out his interest and retired ; and the lea ling 
 spirit that succeeded him \vas Captain William Sublette ; a man 
 worthy of note, as his name has become renowned in f rontier 
 story. He is a native of Kentucky, and of game descent; 
 his maternal grandfather. Colonel Wheatley, a companion of 
 Boone, having been one of the pioneers of the West, celebrated 
 in Indian warfare, and killed in one of the contests of the 
 ‘ ‘ Bloody Ground. ” We shall frequently have occasion to speak 
 
 Kiver. Agie in the Crpw language signifies riv^r 
 
20 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNBYILLB. 
 
 of this Sublette, and always to the credit of his game qualities. ' 
 In 1830, the association took the name of the Rocky Mountain 
 Fur Company, of wliich Captain Sublette and Robert Campbell 
 were prominent members. 
 
 In the meantime, the success of this company attracted the 
 attention and excited the emulation of the American Fur Com- 
 pany and brought them once more into the field of their ancient 
 anterprise. Mr. Astor, the founder of the association, had re- 
 bired from busy life, and the concerns of the company were 
 ably managed by Mr. Ramsay Crooks, of Snake River renown, 
 who stiU officiates as its president. A competition immediate- 
 ly ensued between the two companies, for the trade with the 
 mountain tribes, and the trapping of the head-waters of the 
 Columbia and the other great tributaries of the Pacific. Be- 
 side the regular operations of these formidable rivals, there 
 have been from time to time desultory enterprises, or rather 
 experiments, of minor associations, or of adventurous indi- 
 viduals, beside roving bands of independent trappers, who 
 either hunt for themselves, or engage for a single season in the 
 service of one or other of the main companies. 
 
 The consequence is, that the Rocky Mountains and the ulte- 
 rior regions, from the Russian possessions in the north down to 
 the Spanish settlements of California, have been traversed and 
 ransacked in every direction by bands of hunters and Indian 
 traders; so that there is scarcely a mountain pass, or defile, 
 that is not knovm and threaded in their restless migrations, 
 nor a nameless stream that is not haunted by the lonely 
 trapper. 
 
 The American fur companies keep no established posts beyond 
 the mountains. Everything there is regulated by resident part- 
 ners; that is to say, partners who reside in the tramontane 
 country, but who move about from place to place, either with 
 Indian tribes, whose traffic they wish to monopoliric, or with 
 main bodies of their own men, whom they employ in trading 
 and trapping. In the r meantime, they detach bands, or ‘‘bri- 
 gades” as they are termed, of trappers in various directions, as= 
 signing to each a portion of country as a, hunting or trapping 
 ground. In the months of June and July, when there is an in- 
 terval between the hunting seasons, a general rendezvous is 
 held, at some designated place in the mountains, where the af- 
 fairs of the past year are settled by the resident partners, and 
 the plans for the following year arranged. 
 
 To this rendezvous repair the various brigades of trappers 
 
ADVENTVRES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 21 
 
 from their widely separated hunting grounds, bringing in the 
 products of their year’s campaign. Hither also repair the In- 
 dian tribes accustomed to traffic their peltries with the com- 
 pany. Bands of free trappers resort hither also, to sell the 
 furs they have collected ; or to engage their services for the 
 next hunting season. 
 
 To this rendezvous the company sends annually a convoy of 
 supplies from its establishment on the Atlantic frontier, under 
 the guidance of some experienced partner or officer. On the 
 arrival of this convoy, the resident partner at the rendezvous 
 depends, to set all his next year’s machinery in motion. 
 
 Now as the rival companies keep a vigilant eye upon each 
 other, and are anxious to discover each other’s plans and move- 
 ments, they generally contrive to hold their annual assem- 
 blages at no great distance apart. An eager competition ex- 
 ists also between their respective convoys of supphes, which 
 shall first reach its place of rendezvous. For this purpose they 
 set off with the first appearance of grass on the Atlantic fron- 
 tier, and push with all diligence for the mountains. The com- 
 pany that can first open its tempting supplies of coffee, tobac- 
 co, ammunition, scarlet cloth, blankets, bright shawls, and 
 glittering trinkets, has the greatest chance to get all the peltries 
 and furs of the Indians and free trappers, and to engage their 
 services for the next season. It is able, also, to fit out and dis- 
 patch its own trappers the soonest, so as to get the start of its 
 competitors, and to have the first dash into the hunting and 
 trapping grounds. 
 
 A new species of strategy has sprung out of this hunting and 
 trapping competition. The constant study of the rival bands 
 is to forestall and outwit each other; to supplant each other in 
 the good-will and custom of the Indian tribes ; to cross each 
 other’s plans ; to mislead each other as to routes ; in a word^ 
 next to his own advantage, the study of the Indian trader is the 
 disadvantage of his competitor. 
 
 The influx of this wandering trade has had its effects on the 
 habits of the mountain tribes. They have found the trapping 
 of the beaver their most profitable species of hunting; and the 
 traffic with the white man has opened to them sources of lux- 
 ury of which they previously had no idea. The introduction, 
 of firearms has rendered them more successful hunters, but at 
 the same time more formidable foes ; some of them incorrigibly 
 savage and warlike in their nature have found the expeditions 
 of the fur traders grand objects of profitable adventure. To 
 
22 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 waylay and harass a band of trapper:: with their pack-horses, 
 when embarrassed in the rugged defiles of the mountains, has 
 become as favorite an exploit with these Indians as the plunder 
 of a caravan to the Arab of the desert. The Crows and Black- 
 feet, who were such terrors in the path of the early adventurers 
 to Astoria, still continue their predatory habits, but seem to 
 have brought them to greater system. They know the routes 
 and resorts of the trappers; where to waylay them on their 
 journeys; where to find them in the hunting seasons, and 
 where to hover about them in winter quarters. The life of a 
 trapper, therefore, is a pei'petual state militant, and he must 
 sleep with his weapons in his hands. 
 
 A new oi*der of trappers and traders, also, has grown out of 
 this system of things. In the old times of the great North- 
 west Company, when the trade in furs was pursued chiefly 
 about the lakes and rivers, the expeditions were carried on in 
 batteaux and canoes. The voyageurs or boatmen were the 
 rank and file in the service of the trader, and even the hardy 
 “men of the north,” those great rufflers and game birds, were 
 fain to be paddled from point to point of their migrations. 
 
 A totally different class has now sprung up; — “the Moun- 
 taineers,” the traders and trappers that scale the vast moun- 
 tain chains, and pursue their hazardous vocations amid their 
 wild recesses. They move from place to place on horseback. 
 The equestrian exercises, therefore, in which they are en- 
 gaged, the nature of the countries they traverse, vast plains 
 and mountains, pure and exhilarating in atmospheric quahties, 
 seem to make them physically and mentally a more lively and 
 mercurial race than the fur traders and trappers of former 
 days, the self- vaunting “men of the north.” A man who be- 
 strides a horse must be essentially different from a man who 
 cowers in a canoe. We find them, accordingly, hardy, lithe, 
 vigorous, and active; extravagant in word, and thought, and 
 deed; heedless of hardship; daring of danger; prodigal of the 
 present, and thoughtless of the future. 
 
 A difference is to be perceived even between these mountain 
 hunters and those of the lower regions along the waters of the 
 Missouri. The latter, generally French creoles, live comfor- 
 tably in cabins and log-huts, well sheltered from the inclem- 
 encies of the seasons. They are within the reach of frequent 
 supplies from the settlements ; their life is comparatively free 
 from danger, and from most of the vicissitudes of the upper 
 wilderness. The consequence is, that they are less hardy, self- 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 23 
 
 dependent and game-spirited, than the mountaineer. If the 
 latter by chance comes among them on his way to and from 
 the settlements, he is like a game-cock among the common 
 roosters of the poultry-yard. Accustomed to live in tents, or 
 to bivouac in the open air, he despises the comforts and is im- 
 patient of the confinement of the log-house. If his meal is 
 not ready in season, he takes his rifle, hies to the forest or 
 prairie, shoots his own game, lights his fire, and cooks his 
 repast. With his horse and his rifle, he is independent of the 
 world, and spurns at all its restraints. The very superintend- 
 ents at the lower posts will not put him to mess with the com- 
 mon men, the hirelings of the estabhshment, but treat him as 
 something superior. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no class of men on the face of the earth, 
 saj^s Captain Bonneville, who led a hfe of more continued ex- 
 ertion, peril, and excitement, and who are more enamored of 
 their occupations, than the free trappers of the West. No toil, 
 no danger, no privation can turn the trapper from his pursuit. 
 His passionate excitement at times resembles a mania. In vain 
 may the most vigilant and cruel savages beset his path; in 
 vain may rocks and precipices, and wintry torrents oppose his 
 progress ; let but a single track of a beaver meet his eye, and 
 he forgets all dangers and defies all difficulties. At times, he 
 may be seen with his traps on his shoulder, buffeting his way 
 across rapid streams, amid floating blocks of ice; at other 
 times, he is to be found with his traps swung on his back 
 climbing the most rugged mountains, scaling or descending 
 the most frightful precipices, searching, by routes inaccessible 
 to the horse, and never before trodden by white man, for 
 springs and lakes unknown to his comrades, and where he 
 may meet with his favorite game. Such is the mountaineer, 
 the hardy trapper of the West; and such, as we have slightly 
 sketched it, is the wild, Robin Hood kind of life, with all its 
 strange and motley populace, now existing in full vigor among 
 the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 Having thus given the reader some idea of the actual state of 
 the fur trade in the interior of our vast continent, and made 
 him acquainted with the wild chivalry of the mountains, we will 
 no longer delay the introduction of Captain Bonneville and his 
 band into this field of their enterprise, but launch them at 
 once upon the perilous plains of the Far West. 
 
*^ 4 - 
 
 ADVENT UliES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 DEPARTURE FROM FORT OSAGE— MODES OF TRANSPORTATION- 
 PACK-HORSES— WAGONS— WALKER AND CERRE; THEIR CHAR 
 ACTERS— BUOYANT FEELINGS ON LAUNCHING UPON THE PRAI- 
 RIES — WILD EQUIPMENTS OF THE TRAPPERS — THEIR GAMBOLS 
 AND ANTICS— DIFFERENCE OF CHARACTER BETWEEN THE AMER- 
 ICAN AND FRENCH TRAPPERS — AGENCY OF THE KANSAS- 
 GENERAL CLARKE— WHITE PLUME, THE KANSAS CHIEF— NIGHT 
 SCENE IN A trader’s CAMP— COLLOQUY BETWEEN WHITE PLUME 
 AND THE CAPTAIN— BEE-HUNTERS— THEIR EXPEDITIONS— THEIR 
 FEUDS WITH THE INDIANS— BARGAINING TALENT OF WHITE 
 PLUME. 
 
 It was on the first of May, 1832, that Captain Bonneville 
 ’ ook his departure from the frontier post of Fort Osage, on the 
 ' j'ssouri. He had enlisted a party of one hundred and ten 
 men, most of whom had been in the Indian country, and some 
 of whom were experienced hunters and trappers. Fort Osage, 
 and other places on the borders of the western wilderness, 
 abound with characters of the kind, ready for any expedition. 
 
 The ordinary mode of transportation in these great inland 
 expeditions of the fur traders is on mules and pack-horses; but 
 Captain Bonneville substituted wagons. Though he was to 
 travel through a trackless wilderness, yet the greater part of 
 his route would lie across open plains, destitute of forests, and 
 where wheel carriages can pass in every direction. The chief 
 difficulty occurs in passing the deep ravines cut through the 
 prairies by streams and winter torrents. Here it is often 
 necessary to dig a road down the banks, and to make bridges 
 for the wagons. 
 
 In transporting his baggage in vehicles of this kind. Captain 
 Bonneville thought he would save the great delay caused every 
 morning by packing the horses, and the labor of unpacking in 
 the evening. Fewer horses also would be required; and less risk 
 incurred of their wandering away, or being frightened or car- 
 ried off by the Indians. The wagons, also, would be more 
 easily defended, and might form a Kind of fortification in case 
 of attack in the open prairies. A train of twenty wagons. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 25 
 
 drawn by oxen, or by four mules or horses each, and laden 
 with merchandise, ammunition, and provisions, were disposed 
 in two columns in the centre of the party, which was equally 
 divided into a van and a rear-guard. As sub-leaders or lieu- 
 tenants in his expedition. Captain Bonneville had made choice 
 of Mr. I. K. Walker and Mr. M. S. Cerre. The former was a 
 native of Tennessee, about six feet high, strong built, darit 
 complexioned, brave in spirit, though mild in manners. He 
 had resided for many years in Missouri, on the frontier ; had 
 been among the earliest adventurers to Santa Fe, where he 
 went to trap beaver, and was taken by the Spaniards. Being 
 hberated, he engaged with the Spaniards and Sioux Indians in 
 a war against the Pawnees ; then returned to Missouri, and had 
 acted by turns as sheriff, trader, trapper, until he was enlisted 
 as a leader by Captain Bonneville. 
 
 Cerre, his other leader, had likewise been in expeditions to 
 Santa Fe, in which he had endured much hardship. He was 
 of the middle size, light complexioned, and though but about 
 twenty-five years of age, was considered an experienced In- 
 dian trader. It was a great object with Captain Bonneville to 
 get to the mountains before the summer heats and summer 
 flies should render the travelling across the prairies distress- 
 ing; and before the annual assemblages of people connected 
 with the fur trade should have broken up, and dispersed to the 
 hunting grounds. 
 
 The two rival associations already mentioned, the American 
 Fur Company and the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, had 
 their several places of rendezvous for the present year at no 
 great distance apart, in Pierre’s Hole, a deep valley in the 
 heart of the mountains, and thither Captain Bonneville in- 
 tended to shape his course. 
 
 It is not easy to do justice to the exulting feelings of the 
 worthy captain, at finding himself at the head of a stout band 
 of hunters, trappers, and woodmen; fairly launched on the 
 broad prairies, with his face to the boundless west. The 
 tamest inhabitant of cities, the veriest spoiled child of civili- 
 zation, feels his heart dilate and his pulse beat high on finding 
 himself on horseback in the glorious wilderness; what then 
 must be the excitement of one whose imagination had been 
 stimulated by a residence on the frontier, and to whom the 
 wilderness was a region of romance ! 
 
 His hardy followers partook of his excitement. Most of 
 them had already experienced the wild freedom of savage life. 
 
26 
 
 ABVEh’TUnim OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 and looked forward to a renewal of past scenes "of adventure 
 and exploit. Their very appearance and equipment exhibited 
 a piebald mixture, half civilized and half savage. Many of 
 them looked more like Indians than white men, in their garbs 
 and accoutrements, and their very horses were caparisoned in 
 barbaric style, with fantastic trappings. The outset of a band 
 of adventurers on one of these expeditions is always animated 
 and joyous. The welkin rang with their shouts and yelps, 
 after the manner of the savages ; and with boisterous jokes 
 and light-hearted laughter. As they passed the straggling 
 hamlets and solitary cabins that fringe the skirts of the fron- 
 tier, they would startle their inmates by Indian yells and war- 
 whoops, or regale them with grotesque feats of horsemanship 
 well suited to their half savage appearance. Most of these 
 abodes were inhabited by men who had themselves been in 
 similar expeditions; they welcomed the travellers, therefore, 
 as brother trappers, treated them with a hunter’s hospitality, 
 and cheered them with an honest God speed at parting. 
 
 And here we would remark a great difference, in point of 
 character and quality, between the two classes of trappers, the 
 ‘^American” and ^‘French,” as they are called in contradis- 
 tinction. The latter is meant to designate the French creole 
 of Canada or Louisiana; the former the trapper of the old 
 American stock, from Kentucky, Tennessee, and others of the 
 Western States. The French trapper is represented as a 
 lighter, softer, more self-indulgent kind of man. He must 
 have his Indian wife, his lodge, and his petty conveniences. 
 He is gay and thoughtless, takes little heed of landmarks, de- 
 pends upon his leaders and companions to think for the com- 
 mon weal, and, if left to himself, is easily perplexed and lost. 
 
 The American trapper stands by himself, and is peerless for 
 the service of the wilderness. Drop him in the midst of a 
 prairie, or in the heart of the mountains, and he is never at 
 a loss. He notices every landmark; can retrace his route 
 through the most monotonous plains, or the most perplexed 
 labyrinths of the mountains ; no danger nor difficulty can ap- 
 pall him, and he scorns to complain under any privation. In 
 equipping the two kinds of trappers, the Creole and Canadian 
 are apt to prefer the light fusee ; the American always grasps 
 his rifle; he despises what he calls the “shot-gun.” We give 
 these estimates on the authority of a trader of long experience, 
 and a foreigner by birth. “ I consider one American,” said he, 
 “equal to three Canadians in point of sagacity, aptness at 
 
Al)Vh]jSTUIlES OF CAVTAJIM BONFIJVILI.F. 
 
 21 
 
 resources, self-dependence, and fearlessness of spirit. In fact, 
 no one can cope with him as a stark tramper of the wilder- 
 ness.” 
 
 Beside the two classes of trappers just mentioned, Captain 
 Bonneville had enlisted several Delaware Indians in his em- 
 ploy, on whose hunting qualifications he placed great reliance. 
 
 On the 6th of May the travellers passed the last border habi- 
 Nation, and bade a long farewell to the ease and security of 
 civilization. The buoyant and clamorous spirits with which 
 they had commenced their march gradually subsided as they 
 entered upon its difficulties. They found the prairies saturated 
 with the heavy cold rains prevalent in certain seasons of the 
 year in this part of the country, the wagon wheels sank deep 
 in the mire, the horses were often to the fetlock, and both 
 steed and rider were completely jaded by the evening of the 
 12th, when they reached the Kansas Eiver; a fine stream 
 about three hundred yards wide, entering the Missoari from 
 the south. Though fordable in almost every part at the end of 
 summer and during the autumn, yet it was necessary to con- 
 struct a raft for the transportation of the wagons and effects. 
 All this was done in the course of the follov/ing day, and by 
 evening the whole party arrived at the agency of the Kansas 
 tribe. This was under the superintendence of General Clarke, 
 brother of the celebrated traveller of the same name, who, 
 with Lewis, made the first expedition down the waters of the 
 Columbia. He was living like a patriarch, surrounded by 
 laborers and interpreters, all snugly housed, and provided with 
 excellent farms. The functionary next in consequence to the 
 agent was the blacksmith, a most important, and, indeed, in- 
 dispensable personage in a frontier community. The Kansas 
 resemble the Osages in features, dress, and language; they 
 raise corn and hunt the buffalo, ranging the Kansas Eiver and 
 its tributary streams ; at the time of the captain’s visit they 
 were at war with the Pawnees of the Nebraska, or Platte 
 Eiver. 
 
 The unusual sight of a train of wagons caused quite a sensa= 
 tion among these savages ; who thronged about the caravan, 
 examining everything minutely, and asking a thousand ques- 
 tions ; exhibiting a degree of excitability, a.nd a lively curi- 
 osity, totally opposite to that apathy with which their race is 
 so often reproached. 
 
 The personage who most attracted the captain’s attention at 
 this place was ‘‘White Plume,” the Kansas chief, and they 
 
28 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 soon became good friends. White Plume (we are pleased with 
 liis chivalrous soubriquet) inhabited a large stone hcfuse, built 
 for him by order of the American Government; but the estab- 
 lishment had not been carried out in corresponding style. 
 It might be palace without, but it was wigwam within ; so 
 that, between the stateliness of his mansion and the squalid- 
 ness of his furniture, the gallant White Plume presented some 
 such Avhimsical incongruity as we see in the gala equipments 
 of an Indian chief on a treaty-making embassy at Washing- 
 ton, who has been generously decked out in cocked hat and 
 military coat, in contrast to his breech-clout and leathern 
 leggins; being grand officer at top, and ragged Indian at bot 
 tom. 
 
 AiVhite Plume was so taken with the courtesy of the captain, 
 and pleased with one or two presents received from him, that 
 he accompanied him a day’s journey on his march, and passed 
 a night in his camp, on the margin of a small stream. The 
 method of encamping generally observed by the captain was 
 as follows: The twenty wagons v/ere disposed in a square, at 
 the distance of thirty-three feet from each other. In every 
 interval there was a mess stationed; and each mess hai its 
 fire, where tke men cooked, ate, gossiped, and slept. The 
 horses were placed in the centre of the square, with a guard 
 stationed over them at night. 
 
 The horses were ‘ ‘ side lined, ” as it is termed ; that is to say, 
 the fore and hind foot on the same side of the animal were 
 tied together, so as to be within eighteen inches of each other. 
 A horse thus fettered is for a time sadly embarrassed, but soon 
 becomes sufficiently accustomed to the restraint to move about 
 slowly. It prevents his wandering ; and his being easily car- 
 ried off at night by lurking Indians. When a horse that is 
 “foot free” is tied to one thus secured, the latter forms, as it 
 v/ere, a pivot, round which the other runs and curvets, in case 
 of alarm. 
 
 The encampment of which we are speaking presented a 
 striking scene. The various mess-fires were surrounded by 
 picturesque groups, standing, sitting, and rechning; some 
 busied in cooking, others in cleaning their weapons; while 
 the frequent laugh told that the rough joke or merry story 
 was going on. In the middle of the camp, before the principal 
 lodge, sat the two chieftains. Captain Bonneville and White 
 Plume, in soldier-like communion, the captain delighted with 
 the opportunity of meeting, on social terms, with one ^^f the 
 
AI)VI^:2sTUJIIl!S of captain BONNKVlUAu 
 
 20 
 
 red warriors of the wilderness, the unsophisticated children of 
 nature. The latter was squatted on his buffalo robe, his strong 
 features and red skin glaring in the broad light of a blazing 
 fire, while he recounted astounding tales of the bloody exploits 
 of his tribe and himself in their wars with the Pawnees ; for 
 there are no old soldiers more given to long campaigning 
 stories than Indian ‘‘braves.” 
 
 The feuds of White Plume, however, had not been confined 
 to the red men ; he had much to say of brushes with bee hunt- 
 ers, a class of offenders for whom he seemed to cherish a 
 particular abhorrence. As the species of hunting prosecuted 
 by these worthies is not laid down in any of the ancient books 
 of venerie, and is, in fact, peculiar to our western frontier, a 
 word or two on the subject may not be unacceptable to the 
 reader. 
 
 The bee hunter is generally some settler on the verge of the 
 prairies; a long, lank fellow, of fever and ague complexion, 
 acquired from living on new soil, and in a hut built of green 
 logs. In the autumn, when the harvest is over, these frontier 
 settlers form parties of two or three, and prepare for a bee 
 hunt. Having provided themselves with a wagon, and a num- 
 ber of empty casks, they sally off, armed with their rifles, 
 into the wilderness, directing their course east, west, north, or 
 south, without any regard to the ordinance of the American 
 Government which strictly forbids all trespass upon the lands 
 belonging to the Indian tribes. 
 
 The belts of woodland that traverse the lower prairies and 
 border the rivers are peopled by innumerable swarms of wild 
 bees, which make their hives in hollow trees, and fill them 
 with honey tolled from the rich flowers of the prairies. The 
 bees, according to popular assertion, are migrating, like the 
 settlers, to the west. An Indian trader, well experienced in 
 the country, informs us that within ten years that he has 
 passed in the Far West, the bee has advanced westward above 
 a hundred miles. It is said on the Missouri that the wild tur- 
 key and the wild bee go up the river together ; neither is found 
 in the upper regions. It is but recently that the wild turkey 
 has been killed on the Nebraska, or Platte ; and his travelling 
 competitor, the wild bee, appeared there about the same time. 
 
 Be all this as it may ; the course of our party of bee hunters 
 is to make a wide circuit through the woody river bottoms, 
 and the patches of forest on the prairies, marking, as they go 
 out, every tree in which they have detected a hive. These 
 
30 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 marks are generally respected by any other bee hunter that 
 should come upon their track. Yv^hen they have marked suffi- 
 cient to fill all their casks, they turn their faces homeward, cut 
 down the trees as they proceed, and having loaded their 
 wagon with honey and wax, return well pleased to the settle- 
 ments. 
 
 Now it so happens that the Indians relish wild honey as 
 highly as do the white men, and are the more delighted with 
 this natural luxury from its having, in many instances, but 
 recently made its appearance in their lands. The consequence 
 is numberless disputes and conflicts between them and the bee 
 hunters ; and often a party of the latter, returning, laden with 
 rich spoil from one of their forays, are apt to be waylaid by the 
 native lords of the soil ; their honey to be seized, their harness 
 cut to pieces, and themselves left to find their way home the 
 best way they can, happy to escape with no greater personal 
 harm than a sound rib-roasting. 
 
 Such were the marauders of whose offences the gallant 
 White Plume made the most bitter complaint. They were 
 chiefiy the settlers of the western part of Missouri, who are 
 the most famous bee hunters on the frontier, and whose fa- 
 vorite hunting ground lies within the lands of the Kansas 
 tribe. According to the account of White Plume, however, 
 matters were pretty fairly balanced between him and the of- 
 fenders; he having as often treated them to a taste of the 
 bitter, as they had robbed him of the sweets. 
 
 It is but justice to this gallant chief to say that he gave 
 proofs of having acquired some of the lights of civilization 
 from his proximity to the whites, as was evinced in his knowl- 
 edge of driving a bargain. He required hard cash in return 
 for some corn with which he supplied the worthy captain, and 
 left the latter at a loss which most to admire, his native chiv^ 
 airy as a brave or his acquired adroitness as a trader. 
 
ADVEISTUUKS OF 0 AFT AIM UOMMKVILLK. 
 
 81 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WIDE PRAIRIES— VEGETABLE PRODUCTIONS— TABULAR HILLS— 
 SLABS OF SANDSTONE— NEBRASKA OR PLATTE RIVER— SCANTY 
 PARE— BUFFALO SKULLS— WAGONS TURNED INTO BOATS— 
 HERDS OF BUFFALO— CLIFFS RESEMBLING CASTLES — THE CHIM- 
 NEY — SCOTT’S BLUFFS — STORY CONNECTED WITH THEM — THE 
 BIGHORN OR AHSAHTA— ITS NATURE AND HABITS — DIFFERENCE 
 BETWEEN THAT AND THE WOOLLY SHEEP,” OR GOAT OF THE 
 MOUNTAINS. 
 
 From the middle to the end of May, Captain Bonneville pur- 
 sued a western course over vast undulating plains, destitute of 
 tree or shrub, rendered miry by occasional rain, and cut up by 
 deep water-courses where they had to dig roads for their 
 wagons down the soft crumbling banks, and to throw bridges 
 across the streams. The v/eather had attained the summer 
 heat ; the thermometer standing about fifty-seven degrees in 
 the morning, early, but rising to about ninety degrees at noon. 
 The incessant breezes, however, which sweep these vast plains, 
 render the heats endurable. Game was scanty, and they had 
 to eke out their scanty fare with wild roots and vegetables, such 
 as the Indian potato, the wild onion, and the prairie tomato, and 
 they met with quantities of red root,” from which the hunt- 
 ers make a very palatable beverage. The only human being 
 that crossed their path was a Kansas warrior, returning from 
 some solitary expedition of bravado or revenge, bearing a 
 Pawnee scalp as a trophy. 
 
 The country gradually rose as they proceeded westward, and 
 their route took them over high ridges, commanding wide and 
 beautiful prospects. The vast plain was studded on the west 
 with innumerable hills of conical shape, such as are seen north 
 of the Arkansas River. These hills have their summits appar- 
 ently cut off about the same elevation, so as to leave flat surfaces 
 at top. It is conjectured by some that the whole country may 
 originally have been of the altitude of these tabular hills, but 
 through some process of nature may have sunk to its present 
 level; these insulated eminences being protected by broad foun- 
 dations of solid rock. 
 
32 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 Captain Bonneville mentions another geological phenomenon 
 north of Eed Eiver, where the surface of the earth, in consid- 
 erable tracts of country, is covered with broad slabs of sand- 
 stone, having the form and position of grave-stones, and look- 
 ing as if they had been forced up by some subterranean 
 agitation. “The resemblance,”' says he, “which these very 
 remarkable spots have in many places to old churchyards is 
 curious in the extreme. One might almost fancy himself 
 among the tombs of the pre- Adamites. ” 
 
 On the 2d of June they arrived on the main stream of the 
 Nebraska or Platte Eiver ; twenty-five miles below the head of 
 the Great Island. The low banks of this river give it an ap- 
 pearance of great width. Captain Bonneville measured it in 
 one place, and found it twenty-two hundred yards from bank 
 to bank. Its depth was from three to six feet, the bottom full 
 of quicksands. The Nebraska is studded with islands covered 
 with that species of poplar called the cotton-wood tree. Keep- 
 ing up along the course of this river for several days, they 
 were obliged, from the scarcity of game, to put themselves 
 upon short allowance, and occasionally to kill a steer. They 
 bore their daily labors and privations, however, with great 
 good humor, taking their tone, in all x)robability, from the 
 buoyant spirit of their leader. “If the weather was inclem- 
 ent,” says the captain, “ we Vv^atched the clouds, and hoped for 
 a sight of the blue sky and the merry sun. If food was scanty, 
 we rega-led ourselves Avitb the hope of soon falling in with herds 
 of buffalo, and having nothing to do but slay and eat.” We 
 doubt whether the genial captain is not describing the cheeri- 
 ness of his own breast, which gave a cheery aspect to every- 
 thing around him. 
 
 There certainly were evidences, however, that the country 
 was not always equally destitute of game. At one place they 
 observed a field decorated with buffalo skulls, arranged in cir- 
 cles, curves, and other mathematical figures, as if for some 
 mystic rite or ceremony. They were almost innumerable, and 
 seemed to have been a vast hecatomb offered up in thanks- 
 giving to the Great Spirit for some signal success in the chase. 
 
 On the 11th of June they came to the fork of the Nebraska, 
 where it divides itself into two equal and beautiful streams. 
 One of these branches rises in the west-southwest, near the 
 head- waters of the Arkansas. Up the course of this branch, as 
 Captain Bonneville was well aware, lay the route to the Ca- 
 manchc and Kioway Indians, and to the northern Mexican set- 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 33 
 
 tiements ; of the other branch he knew nothing. Its sources 
 might lie among wild and inaccessible cliffs, and tumble 
 and foam down rugged defiles and over craggy precipices ; but 
 its direction was in the true course, and up this stream ho de- 
 termined to prosecute his route to the Rocky Mountains. Find- 
 ing it impossible, from quicksands and other dangerous impedi- 
 ments, to cross the river in this neighborhood, he kept up 
 along the south fork for two days, merely seeking a safe fording 
 place. At length he encamped, caused the bodies of the wagons 
 to be dislodged from the wheels, covered with buffalo hides, 
 and besmeared with a compound of tallow and ashes; thus 
 forming rude boats. In these they ferried their effects across 
 the stream, which was six hundred yards wide, with a swift 
 and strong current. Three men were in each boat, to manage 
 it; others waded across, pushing the barks before them. Thus 
 all crossed in safety. A march of nine miles took them over 
 high rolling prairies to the north fork ; their eyes being regaled 
 with the welcome sight of herds of buffalo at a distance, some 
 careering the plain, others grazing and reposing in the natural 
 meadows. 
 
 Skirting along the north fork for a day or two, excessively 
 annoyed by musquitoes and buffalo gnats, they reached, in the 
 evening of the 17th, a small but beautiful grove, from which 
 issued the confused notes of singing birds, the first they had 
 heard since crossing the boundary of Missouri. After so many 
 days of weary travelling, through a naked, monotonous and 
 silent country, it was delightful once more to hear the song of 
 the bird, and to behold the verdure of the grove. It was a 
 beautiful sunset, and a sight of the glowing rays, manthng the 
 tree-tops and rustling branches, gladdened every heart. They 
 pitched their camp in the grove, kindled their fires, partook 
 merrily of their rude fare, and resigned themselves to the 
 sweetest sleep they had enjoyed since their outset upon the 
 prairies. 
 
 The country now became rugged and broken. High bluffs 
 advanced upon the river, and forced the travellers occasionally 
 to leave its banks and wind their course into the interior. 
 In one of the wild and solitary passes they were startled by 
 the trail of four or five pedestrians, whom they supposed to be 
 spies from some predatory camp of either Arickara or Crow 
 Indians. This obliged them to redouble their vigilance at 
 night, and to keep especial watch upon their horses. In these 
 rugged and elevated regions they began to see the black- 
 
34 
 
 AU VliJATUIlES OF GAPTAnSf BONAiEVILLE. 
 
 tailed deer, a species larger than the ordinary kind, and chiefly 
 found in rocky and mountainous countries. They had reached 
 also a great buffalo range; Captain Bonneville ascended a 
 high bluff, commanding an extensive view of the surrounding 
 plains. As far as his eye could reach, the country seemed 
 absolutely blackened by innumerable herds. No langaiage, he 
 says, could convey an adequate idea of the vast living mass 
 thus presented to his eye. He remarked that the bulls and 
 cows generally congregated in separate herds. 
 
 Opposite to the camp at this place was a singular phenom- 
 enon, which is among the curiosities of the country. It is 
 called the chimney. The lower part is a conical mound, rising 
 out of the naked plain ; from the summit shoots up a shaft or 
 column, about one hundred and twenty feet in height, from 
 which it derives its name. The height of the whole, according 
 to Captain Bonneville, is a hundred and seventy-five yards. 
 It is composed of indurated clay, with alternate layers of red 
 and white sandstone, and may be seen at the distance of up- 
 ward of thirty miles. 
 
 On the 21st they encamped amid high and beetling cliffs of 
 indurated clay and sandstone, bearing the semblance of 
 towers, castles, churches and fortified cities. At a distance it 
 was scarcely possible to persuade one’s self that the works of 
 art were not mingled with these fantastic freaks of nature. 
 They have received the name of Scott’s Bluffs from a melan- 
 choly circumstance. A number of years since, a party were 
 descending the upper part of the river in canoes, when their 
 frail barks were overturned and all their powder spoiled. 
 Their rifles being thus rendered useless, they were unable to 
 procure food by hunting and had to depend upon roots and 
 wild fruits for subsistence. After suffering extremely from 
 hunger, they arrived at Laramie’s Fork, a small tributary of 
 the north branch of the Nebraska, about sixty miles above the 
 cliffs just mentioned. Here one of the party, by the name of 
 Scott, was taken ill ; and his companions came to a halt, until 
 he should recover health and strength sufficient to proceed. 
 While they were searching round in quest of edible roots they 
 discovered a fresh trail of white men, who had evidently but 
 recently preceded them. What was to be done? By a forced 
 march they might overtake this party, and thus be able to 
 reach the settlements in safety. Should they linger they 
 might all perish of famine and exhaustion. Scott, however, 
 was incapable of moving; they were too feeble to aid him for- 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 35 
 
 ward, and dreaded that such a clog would prevent thoir com- 
 ing up with the advance party. They determined, therefore, 
 to abandon him to his fate. Accordingly, under pretence of 
 seeking food, and such simples as might be efficacious in his 
 malady, they deserted him and hastened forward upon the 
 trail. They succeeded in overtaking the party of which they 
 were in quest, but concealed their faithless desertion of Scott ; 
 alleging that he had died of disease. 
 
 On the ensuing summer, these very individuals visiting 
 these parts in company with others, came suddenly upon the 
 bleached bones and grinning skull of a human skeleton, which, 
 by certain signs they recognized for the remains of Scott. 
 This was sixty long miles from the place where they had 
 abandoned him; and it appeared that the wretched man had 
 crawled that immense distance before death put an end to his 
 miseries. The wild and picturesque bluffs in the neighborhood 
 of his lonely grave have ever since borne his name. 
 
 Amid this wild and striking scenery. Captain Bonneville, 
 for the first time, beheld flocks of the ahsahta or bighorn, an 
 animal which frequents these cliffs in great numbers. They 
 accord with the nature of such scenery, and add much to its 
 romantic effect ; bounding like goats from crag to crag, often 
 trooping along the lofty shelves of the mountains, under the 
 guidance of some venerable patriarch, with horns twisted 
 lower than his muzzle, and sometimes peering over the edge of 
 a precipice, so high that they appear scarce bigger than crows ; 
 indeed, it seems a pleasure to them to seek the most rugged 
 and frightful situations, doubtless from a feeling of security. 
 
 This animal is commonly called the mountain sheep, and is 
 often confounded with another animal, the ‘‘woolly sheep,” 
 found more to the northward, about the country of the Flat- 
 heads. The latter likewise inhabits cliffs in summer, but 
 descends into the valleys in the winter. It has white wool, 
 like a sheep, mingled with a thin growth of long hair ; but it 
 has short legs, a deep beUy, and a beard like a goat. Its horns 
 are about five inches long, slightly curved backward, black as 
 jet, and beautifully polished. Its hoofs are of the same color. 
 This animal is by no means so active as the bighorn, it does 
 not bound much, but sits a good deal upon its haunches. It is 
 not so plentiful either ; rarely more than two or three are seen 
 at a time. Its wool alone gives a resemblance to the sheep ; it 
 is more properly of the goat genus. The flesh is said to have a 
 musty flavor; some have thought the fleece might be valuable, 
 
36 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 as it is said to be as fine as that of the goat of Cashmere^ but it 
 is not to be procured in sufficient quantities. 
 
 The ahsahta, argali, or bighorn, on the contrary, has short 
 hair like a deer^ and resembles it in shape, but has the head 
 and horns of a sheep, and its flesh is said to be delicious 
 mutton. Tbo Indians consider it more sweet and delicate 
 than any vther kind of venison. It abounds in the Rocky 
 Mountain^', from the fiftieth degree of north latitude quite 
 down t-a California; generally in the highest regions capable of 
 vege^^tion; sometimes it ventures into the valleys, but on the 
 least- alarm, regains its favorite cliifs* and precipices, where it 
 perilous, if not impossible for the hunter to follow.* 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 an alarm— crow INDIANS— their APPEARANCE —MODE OF AP- 
 PROACH— THEIR VENGEFUL ERRAND— THEIR CURIOSITY— HOS- 
 TILITY BETWEEN THE CROWS AND BLACKFEET— LOVING CONDUCT 
 OF THE CROWS— LARAMIE’S FORK— FIRST NAVIGATION OF THE 
 NEBRASKA — GREAT ELEVATION OF THE COUNTRY— RARITY OF 
 THE ATMOSPHERE— ITS EFFECT ON THE WOODWORK OF WAGONS 
 — BLACK HILLS— THEIR WILD AND BROKEN SCENERY — INDIAN 
 DOGS — CROW TROPHIES — STERLE AND DREARY COUNTRY — BANKS 
 OF THE SWEET WATER-BUFFALO HUNTING — ADVENTURE OF 
 TOM CAIN, THE IRISH COOK. 
 
 When on the march. Captain Bonneville always sent some 
 of his best hunters in the advance to reconnoitre the country, 
 as well as to look out for game. On the 24th of May, as the 
 caravan was slowly journeying up the banks of the Nebraska, 
 the hunters came galloping back, waving their caps, and giving 
 the alarm cry, Indians ! Indians ! 
 
 The captain immediately ordered a halt: the hunters now 
 came up and announced that a large war-party of Crow In- 
 dians were just above, on the river. The captain knew the 
 character of these savages; one of the most roving, warlike. 
 
 * Dimensions of a male of this species; from the nose to the base of the tail, five 
 feet; length of the tail, four inches; girth of the body, four feet; height, three feet 
 eight inches; the horn, three feet six inches long; one foot three inches in circuur 
 f^rence at base. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 37 
 
 crafty, and predatory tribes of the mountains ; horse-stealers 
 of the first order, and easily provoked to acts of sanguinary 
 violence. Orders were accordingly given to prepare for action, 
 and every one promptly took the post that had been assigned 
 him, in the general order of the march, in all cases of warlike 
 emergency. 
 
 Everything being put in battle array, the captain took the 
 lead of his little band, and moved on slowly and warily. In 
 a little while he beheld the Crow warriors emerging from 
 among the bluffs. There were about sixty of them ; fine mar- 
 tial-looking fellows, painted and arrayed for war, and mounted 
 on horses decked out with all kinds of wild trappings. They 
 came prancing along in gallant style, with many wild and 
 dexterous evolutions, for none can surpass them in horseman- 
 ship ; and their bright colors, and fiaunting and fantastic em- 
 bellishments, glaring and sparkling in the morning sunshine, 
 gave them really a striking appearance. 
 
 Their mode of approach, to one not acquainted with the tac- 
 tics and ceremonies of this rude chivalry of the wilderness, 
 had an air of direct hostility. They came galloping forward 
 in a body, as if about to make a furious charge, but, when 
 close at hand, opened to the right and left, and wheeled in wide 
 circles round the travellers, whooping and yelling like maniacs. 
 
 This done, their mock fury sank into a calm, and the chief, 
 approaching the captain, who had remained warily drawn up, 
 though informed of the pacific nature of the manoeuvre, ex- 
 tended to him the hand of friendship. The pipe of peace was 
 smoked, and now all was good fellowship. 
 
 The Crows were in pursuit of a band of Cheyennes, who had 
 attacked their village in the night and killed one of their peO“ 
 pie. Hiey had already been five and twenty days on the track 
 of the marauders, and were determined not to return home 
 until they had sated their revenge. 
 
 A few days previously, some of their scouts, who were rang- 
 ing the country at a distance from the main body, had discov- 
 ered the party of Captain Bonneville. They had dogged it for 
 a time in secret, astonished at the long train of wagons and 
 oxen, and especially struck with the sight of a cow and calf, 
 quietly following the caravan ; supposing them to be some kind 
 of tame buffalo. Having satisfied their curiosity, they car- 
 ried back to their chief intelligence of all that they had seen. 
 He had, in consequence, diverged from his pursuit of ven- 
 geance, to behold the wonders described to him. ‘^Now that 
 
38 
 
 AD VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 we have met you,” said he to Captain Bonneville, and have 
 seen these marvels with our own eyes, our hearts are glad.” 
 In fact, nothing could exceed the curiosity evinced by these 
 people as to the objects before them. Wagons had never 
 been seen by them before, and they examined them with 
 the grea^test minuteness; but the calf was the peculiar object 
 of their admiration. They watched it with intense interest as 
 it hcked the hands accustomed to feed it, and were struck with 
 the mild expression of its countenance, and its perfect docility. 
 
 After much sage consultation, they at length determined that 
 it must be the ‘‘ great medicine” of the white party ; an appella- 
 tion given by the Indians to anything of supernatural and 
 mysterious power, that is guarded as a talisman. They were 
 completely thrown out in their conjecture, however, by an offer 
 of the white men to exchange the calf for a horse ; their esti- 
 mation of the great medicine sank in an instant, and they de- 
 clined the bargain. 
 
 At the request of the Crow chieftain the two parties en- 
 camped together, and passed the residue of the day in company. 
 The captain was well pleased with every opportunity to gain a 
 knowledge of the ^‘unsophisticated sons of nature,” who had 
 so long been objects of his poetic speculations ; and indeed this 
 wild, horse-stealing tribe is one of the most notorious of the 
 mountains. The chief, of course, had his scalps to show and his 
 battles to recount. The Blackfoot is the hereditary enemy of 
 the Crow, toward whom hostility is like a cherished princi- 
 ple of religion ; for every tribe, besides its casual antagonists, 
 has some enduring foe with whom there can be no permanent 
 reconciliation. The Crows and Blackfeet, upon the whole, are 
 enemies worthy of each other, being rogues and ruffians of the 
 first water. As their predatory excursions extend over the 
 same regions, they often come in contact with each other, and 
 these casual conflicts serve to keep their wits awake and their 
 passions alive. 
 
 The present party of Crows, however, evinced nothing of the 
 invidious character for which they are renowned. During the 
 day and night that they were encamped in company with the 
 travellers, their conduct was friendly in the extreme. They 
 were, in fact, quite irksome in their attentions, and had a caress- 
 ing manner at times quite importunate. It was not until after 
 separation on the following morning, that the captain and his 
 men ascertained the secret of all this loving-kindness. In the 
 course of their fraternal caresses, the Crows had contrived to 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 30 
 
 empty the pockets of their white brothers ; to abstract the ver;y 
 buttons from their coats, and, above all, to make free with 
 their hunting knives. 
 
 By equal altitudes of the sun, taken at this last encampment, 
 Captain Bonneville ascertained his latitude to be 41° 47' north. 
 The thermometer, at six o’clock in the morning, stood at fifty- 
 nine degrees; at two o’clock, p.m., at ninety-two degrees; and 
 at six o’clock in the evening, at seventy degrees. 
 
 The Black Hills, or Mountains, now began to be seen at a 
 distance, printing the horizon with their rugged and broken 
 outhnes ; and threatening to oppose a difficult barrier in the 
 way of the travellers. 
 
 On the 26th of May, the travellers encamped at Laramie’s 
 Fork, a clear and beautiful stream, rising in the west-south- 
 west, maintaining an average width of twenty yards, and 
 winding through broad meadows abounding in currants and 
 gooseberries, and adorned with groves and clumps of trees. 
 
 By an observation of Jupiter’s satellites, with a Dolland 
 reflecting telescope, Captain Bonneville ascertained the longi- 
 tude to be 102° 57' west of Greenwich. 
 
 We will here step ahead of our narrative to observe, that 
 about three years after the time of which we are treating, Mr. 
 Eobert Campbell, formerly of the Eocky Mountain Fur Com- 
 pany, descended the Platte from this fork, in skin canoes, 
 thus proving, what* had always been discredited, that the river 
 was navigable. About the same time, he built a fort or trad- 
 ing post at Laramie’s Fork, which he named Fort William, 
 after his friend and partner, Mr. William Sublette. Since 
 that time, the Platte has become a highway for the fur 
 traders. 
 
 For some days past. Captain Bonneville had been made 
 sensible of the great elevation of country into which he was 
 gradually ascending, by the effect of the dryness and rare- 
 faction of the atmosphere upon his wagons. The woodwork 
 shrunk ; the paint boxes of the wheels were continually work- 
 ing out, and it was necessary to support the spokes by stout 
 props to prevent their falling asunder. The travellers were 
 now entering one of those great steppes of the Far West, 
 where the prevalent aridity of the atmosphere renders the 
 country unfit for cultivation. In these regions there is a 
 fresh sweet growth of grass in the spring, but it is scanty and 
 short, and parches up in the course of the summer, so that 
 there is none for the hunters to set fire to in the autumn. It 
 
40 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 is a common observation that ‘‘ above the forks of the Platte 
 the grass does not burn.” All attempts at agriculture and 
 gardening in the neighborhood of Fort William have been 
 attended with very httle success. The grain and vegetables 
 raised there have been scanty in quantity and poor in quality. 
 The great elevation of these plains, and the dryness of the 
 atmosphere, will tend to retain these immense regions in a 
 state of pristine wildness. 
 
 In the course of a day or two more, the travellers entered 
 that wild and broken tract of the Crow country called the 
 Black Hills, and here their journey became toilsome in the 
 extreme. Rugged steeps and deep ravines incessantly ob- 
 structed their progress, so that a great part of the day was 
 spent in the painfid toil of digging through banks, filling up 
 ravines, forcing the wagons up the most forbidding ascents, or 
 swinging them with ropes down the face of dangerous preci- 
 pices. The shoes of their horses were worn out, and their feet 
 injured by the rugged and stony roads. The travellers were 
 annoyed also by frequent but brief storms, which would come 
 hurrying over the hills, or through the mountain defiles, rage 
 with great fury for a short time, and then pass off, leaving 
 everything calm and serene again. 
 
 For several nights the camp had been infested by vagabond 
 Indian dogs, prowling about in quest of food. They were 
 about the size of a large pointer ; with ears short and erect, 
 and a long bushy tail — altogether, they bore a striking resem- 
 blance to a wolf. These skulking visitors would keep about 
 the purlieus of the camp until daylight ; when, on the first stir 
 of life among the sleepers, they would scamper off until they 
 reached some rising ground, v/here they would take their 
 seats, and keep a shai*p and hungry watch upon every move- 
 ment. The moment the travellers were fairly on the march, 
 and the camp was abandoned, these starveling hangers-on 
 would hasten to the deserted fires to seize upon the half -picked 
 bones, the offal and garbage that lay about ; and, having made 
 a hasty meal, with many a snap and snarl and growl, would 
 foUow leisurely on the trail of the caravan. Many attempts 
 were made to coax or catch them, but in vain. Their quick 
 and suspicious eyes caught the slightest sinister movement, and 
 they turned and scampered off. At length one was taken. 
 He was terribly alarmed, and crouched and trembled as if 
 expecting instant death. Soothed, however, by caresses, he 
 began after a time to gather confidence and wag hi^ tail, and 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 41 
 
 at length was brought to follow close at the heels of his 
 captors, still, however, darting around furtive and suspicious 
 glances, and evincing a disposition to scamper off upon the 
 least alarm. 
 
 On the first of July the band of Crow warriors again crossed 
 their path. They came in vaunting and vainglorious style; 
 displaying five Cheyenne scalps, the trophies of their ven- 
 geance. They were now bound homeward, to appease the 
 manes of their comrade by these proofs that his death had 
 been revenged, and intended to have scalp dances and other 
 triumphant rejoicings. Captain Bonneville and his men, how- 
 ever, were by no means disposed to renew their confiding 
 intimacy with these crafty savages, and above all, took care 
 to avoid their pilfering caresses. They remarked one pre- 
 caution of the Crows with respect to their horses ; to protect 
 their hoofs from the sharp and jagged rocks among which 
 they had to pass, they had covered them with shoes of buffalo 
 hide. 
 
 The route of the travellers lay generally along the course of 
 the Nebraska or Platte, but occasionally, where steep prom- 
 ontories advanced to the margin of the stream, they were 
 obliged to make inland circuits. One of these took them 
 through a bold and stern country, bordered by a range of low 
 mountains, running east and west. Everything around bore 
 traces of some fearful convulsion of nature in times long past. 
 Hitherto the various strata of rock had exhibited a gentle 
 elevation toward the southwest, but here everything appeared 
 to have been subverted, and thrown out of place. In many 
 places there were heavy beds of white sandstone resting upon 
 red. Immense strata of rocks jutted up into crags and cliffs ; 
 and sometimes formed perpendicular walls and overhanging 
 precipices. An air of sterility prevailed over these savage 
 wastes. The valleys were destitute of herbage, and scantily 
 clothed with a stunted species of wormwood, generally known 
 among traders and trappers by the name of sage. From an 
 elevated point of their march through this region, the travel- 
 lers caught a beautiful view of the Powder Eock Mountains 
 away to the north, stretching along the very verge of the 
 horizon, and seeming, from the snow with which they were 
 mantled, to be a chain of small white clouds connecting sky 
 and earth. 
 
 Though the thermometer at mid-day ranged from eighty to 
 ninety, and even sometimes rose to ninety-three degrees, yet 
 
42 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 occasional spots of snow were to be seen on the tops of the 
 low mountains, among which the travellers were journeying; 
 proofs of the great elevation of the whole region. 
 
 The Nebraska, in its passage through the Black Hills, is 
 confined to a much narrower channel than that through which 
 it flows in the plains below ; but it is deeper and clearer, and 
 rushes with a stronger current. The scenery, also, is more 
 varied and beautiful. Sometimes it glides rapidly but smoothly 
 through a picturesque valley, between wooded banks; then, 
 forcing its way into the bosom of rugged mountains, it rushes 
 impetuously through narrow defiles, roaring and foaming down 
 rocks and rapids, until it is again soothed to rest in some peace- 
 ful valley. 
 
 On the 12th of July Captain Bonneville abandoned the main 
 stream of the Nebraska, which was continually shouldered by 
 rugged promontories, and making a bend to the southwest, for 
 a couple of days, part of the time over plains of loose sand, en- 
 camped on the 14th on the banks of the Sweet Water, a stream 
 about twenty yards in breadth, and four or five feet deep, 
 flowing between low banks over a sandy soil, and forming one 
 of the forks or upper branches of the Nebraska. Up this 
 stream they now shaped their course for several successive 
 days, tending generally to the west. The soil was light and 
 sandy ; the country much diversified. Frequently the plains 
 were studded with isolated blocks of rock, sometimes in the 
 shape of a half globe, and from three to four hundred feet high. 
 These singular masses had occasionally a very imposing, and 
 even sublime appearance, rising from the midst of a savage and 
 lonely landscape. 
 
 As the travellers continued to advance, they became more 
 and more sensible of the elevation of the country. The hills 
 around were more generally capped with snow. The men 
 complained of cramps and colics, sore lips and mouths, and vio* 
 lent headaches. The wood- work of the wagons also shrank so 
 much that it was with difficulty the wheels were kept from 
 falling to pieces. The country bordering upon the river was 
 frequently gashed with deep ravines, or traversed by high 
 bluffs, to avoid which the travellers were obliged to make wide 
 circuits through the plains. In the course of these, they came 
 upon immense herds of buffalo, which kept scouring off in the 
 van, like a retreating army. 
 
 Among the motley retainers of the camp was Tom Cain, a 
 raw Irishman, who officiated as cook, whose various blunders 
 
ABYEKTUnES OF CAPTATN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 43 
 
 and expedient.^ in his novel situation, and in the wild scenes 
 and wild kind of life into which he had suddenly been thro^vii, 
 licul made him a kind of butt or droll of the camp. Tom, how- 
 ever, began to discover an ambition superior to his station; 
 and the conversation of the hunters, and their stories of their 
 exploits, inspired him with a desire to elevate himself to the 
 dignity of their order. The buffalo in such immense droves 
 presented a tempting opportunity for making his first essay. 
 He rode, in the line of march, all prepared for action: his 
 powder flask and shot-pouch knowingly slimg at the pommel 
 of his saddle, to be at hand ; his rifle balanced on his shoulder. 
 While in this plight a troop of buffalo came trotting by in great 
 alarm. In an instant, Tom sprang from his horse and gave 
 chase on foot. ^ Finding they were leaving hhn behind, he 
 levelled his rifle and pulled trigger. His shot produced no 
 other effect than to increase the speed of the buffalo, and to 
 frighten his own horse, who took to his heels, and scampered 
 off with all the ammunition. Tom scampered after him, hal- 
 looing with might and main, and the wild horse and wild Irish- 
 man soon disappeared among the ravines of the prairie. Cap- 
 tain Bonneville, who w~as at the head of the line, and had seen 
 the transaction at a distance, detached a party in pursuit of 
 Tom. After a long interval they returned, leading the fright- 
 ened horse; but though they had scoured the country, and 
 looked out and shouted from every height, they had seen 
 nothing of his rider. 
 
 As Capto^in Bonneville knew Tom’s utter awkwardness and 
 inexperience, and the dangers of a bewildered Irishman in the 
 midst of a prairie, he halted and encamped at an early hour, 
 that there might be a regular hunt for him in the morning. 
 
 At early dawn on the following day scouts were sent off in 
 every direction, while the main body, after breakfast, pro- 
 ceeded slowly on its course. It was not until the middle of the 
 afternoon that the hunters returned, with honest Tom mounted 
 behind one of them. They had found him in a complete state 
 of perplexity and amazement. His appearance caused shouts 
 of merriment in the camp; but Tom for once could not join 
 in the mirth raised at his expense ; he was completely chap^ 
 fallen, and apparently cured of hunting mania i he rest 
 of his life. 
 
44 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CATTAiN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MiGNIFICENT SCENERY— WIND RIVER MOUNTAINS— TREASURY OF 
 WATERS— A STRAY HORSE— AN INDIAN TRAIL— TROUT STREAMS 
 — THE GREAT GREEN RIVER VALLEY — AN ALARM — A BAND OF 
 TRAPPERS— PONTENELLE, HIS INFORMATION— SUFFERINGS OF 
 THIRST — ENCAMPMENT ON THE SEEDS-KE-DEE— STRATEGY OP 
 RIVAL TRADERS — FORTIFICATION OP THE CAMP — THE BLACK' 
 FEET- BANDITTI OP THE MOUNTAINS— THEIR CHARACTER AND 
 HABITS. 
 
 It was on the 20th of July that Captain Bonneville first came 
 in sight of the grand region of his hopes and anticipations, the 
 Pocky Mountains. He had been making a bend to the south, 
 to avoid some obstacles along the river, and had attained a 
 high, rocky ridge, when a magnificent prospect burst upon his 
 sight. To the v/est rose the Wind River Mountains, with their 
 bleached and snowy summits towering into the clouds. These 
 stretched far to the north-northwest, until they melted away 
 into what appeared to be faint clouds, but which the experi- 
 enced eyes of the veteran hunters of the party recognized for 
 the rugged mountains of the Yellowstone ; at the feet of which 
 extended the wild Crow country : a perilous, though profitable 
 region for the trapper. 
 
 To the southwest the eye ranged over an immense extent of 
 v/ilderness, with what appeared to be a snowy vapor resting 
 upon its horizon. This, however, was pointed out as another 
 branch of the great Chippewyan, or Rocky chain ; being the 
 Eutaw Mountains, at whose basis the wandering tribe of hunt- 
 ers of the same name pitch their tents. 
 
 We can imagine the enthusiasm of the worthy captain, when 
 he beheld the vast and mountainous scene of his adventurous 
 enterprise thus suddenly unveiled before him. We can imagine 
 with what feelings of awe and admiration he must have con- 
 templated the Wind River Sierra, or bed of mountains; tliat 
 great fountain-head from whose springs, and lakes, and melted 
 snows some of those mighty rivers take their rise, which wan 
 der over hundreds of miles of varied country and clime, and 
 find their way to the opposite waves of the Atlantic and the 
 Pacific. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 45 
 
 The Wind River Mountains are, in fact, among the most 
 remarkable of the whole Rocky chain ; and would appear to be 
 among the loftiest. They form, as it were, a great bed of 
 mountains, about eighty miles in length, and from twenty to 
 thirty in breadth; with rugged peaks, covered with eternal 
 snows, and deep, narrow valleys, full of springs, and brooks, 
 and rock-bound lakes. From this great treasury of waters 
 issue forth limpid streams which, augmenting as they descend, 
 become main tributaries of the Missouri on the one side, and 
 the Columbia on the other; and give rise to the Seeds-ke-dee 
 Agie, or Green River, the great Colorado of the West, that 
 empties its current into the Gulf of California. 
 
 The Wind River Mountains are notorious in hunters’ and 
 trappers’ stories: their rugged defiles, and the rough tracts 
 about their neighborhood, having been lurking places for the 
 predatory hordes of the mountains, and scenes of rough en- 
 counter with Crows and Blackfeet. It was to the west of 
 these mountains, in the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee Agie, or 
 Green River, that Captain Bonneville intended to make a halt, 
 for the purpose of giving repose to his people and his horses, 
 after their weary journeying; and of collecting information 
 as to his future course. This Green River Yalley, and its im- 
 mediate neighborhood, as we have already observed, formed 
 the main point of rendezvous, for the present year, of the rival 
 fur companies, and the motley populace, civilized and savage, 
 connected with them. Several days of rugged travel, how- 
 ever, yet remained for the captain and his men before they 
 should encamp in this desired resting-place. 
 
 On the 21st of July, as they were pursuing their course 
 through one of the meadows of the Sweet Water, they beheld 
 a horse grazing at a little distance. He showed no alarm at 
 their approach, but suffered himself quietly to be taken, evinc- 
 ing a perfect state of tameness. The scouts of the party were 
 instantly on the look-out for the owners of this animal, lest 
 some dangerous band of savages might be lurking in the vicin- 
 ity. After a narrow search, they discovered the trail of an 
 Indian party, which had evidently passed through that neigh- 
 borhood but recently. The horse was accordingly taken pos- 
 session of, as an estray ; but a more vigilant watch than usual 
 was kept round the camp at nights, lest his former owners 
 should be upon the prowl. 
 
 The travellers had now attained so high an elevation, that 
 on the 23d of JuJy, at daybreak, there was considerable ice in 
 
46 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 the water-buckets, and the thermometer stood at twenty-two 
 degrees. The rarity of the atmosphere continued to affect the 
 wood-work of the wagons, and the wheels were incessantly 
 falling to pieces. A remedy was at length devised. The tire 
 of each wheel was taken off ; a band of wood was nailed round 
 the exterior of the felloes, the tire was then made red hot, re- 
 placed round the wheel, and suddenly cooled with water. By 
 this means, the whole was bound together with great compact- 
 ness. 
 
 The extreme elevation of these great steppes, which range 
 along the feet of the Kocky Mountains, takes away from the 
 seeming height of their peaks, which yield to few in the 
 known world in point of altitude above the level of the sea. 
 
 On the 24th, the travellers took final leave of the Sweet 
 Water, and keeping westwardly, over a low and very rocky 
 ridge, one of the most southern spurs of the Wind River Mourn 
 tains, they encamped, after a march of seven hours and a half, 
 on the banks of a small clear stream, running to the south, in 
 wliich they caught a number of fine trout. 
 
 The sight of these fish was hailed with pleasure, as a sign 
 that they had reached the waters which flow into the Pacific ; 
 for it is only on the western streams of the Rocky Mountains 
 that trout are to be taken. The stream on which they had 
 thus encamped proved, in effect, to be tributary to the Seeds- 
 ke-dee Agie, or Green River, into which it flowed, at some dis- 
 tance to the south. 
 
 Captain Bonneville now considered himself as having fairly 
 passed the crest of the Rocky Mountains ; and felt some degree of 
 exultation in being the first individual that had crossed, north 
 of the settled provinces of Mexico, from the waters of the At- 
 - lantic to those of the Pacific, with wagons. Mr. William Sub- 
 lette, the enterprising leader of the Rocky Mountain Fur Com- 
 pany, had, two or three years previously, reached the valley of 
 the Wind River, which lies on the northeast of the mountains; 
 but had proceeded with them no further. 
 
 A vast valley now spread itself before the travellers, 
 bounded on one side by the Wind River Mountains, and to the 
 west by a long range of high hills. This, Captain Bonneville 
 was assitred by a veteran hunter in his company, was the great 
 valley of the Seeds-ke-dee; and the same informant would have 
 fain persuaded him that a small stream, three feet deep, which 
 he came to on the 25th, was that river. The captain was con- 
 vinced, however, that the stream was too insignificant to 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 47 
 
 drain so wide a valley and the adjacent mountains: he en- 
 camped, therefore, at an early hour, on its borders, that he 
 might take the whole of the next day to reach the main river ; 
 which he presumed to flow between him and the distant range 
 of western hills. 
 
 On the 26 th of July he commenced his march at an early 
 hour, making directly across the valley, toward the hills in the 
 west ; proceeding at as brisk a rate as the jaded condition of 
 his horses would permit. About eleven o’clock in the morning 
 a great cloud of dust was descried in the rear, advancing 
 directly on the trail of the party. The alarm was given ; they 
 all came to a halt, and held a council of war. Some conjec- 
 tured that the band of Indians, whose trail they had discovered 
 in the neighborhood of the stray horse, had been lying in wait 
 for them, in some secret fastness of the mountains ; and were 
 about to attack them on the open plain, where they would 
 have no shelter. Preparations were immediately made for de- 
 fence: and a scouting party sent off to reconnoitre. They 
 soon came galloping back, making signals that all was well. 
 The cloud of dust was made by a band of fifty or sixty mounted 
 trappers, belonging to the American Fur Company, who soon 
 came up, leading their pack-horses. They were headed by Mr. 
 Fontenelle, an experienced leader, or ‘‘partisan,” as a chief of 
 a party is called in the technical language of the trappers. 
 
 Mr. Fontenelle informed Captain Bonneville that he was on 
 his way from the company’s trading post on the Yellowstone to 
 the yearly rendezvous, with reinforcements and supplies for 
 their hunting and trading parties beyond the mountains; and 
 that he expected to meet, by appointment, with a band of free 
 trappers in that very neighborhood. He had fallen upon the 
 trail of Captain Bonneville’s party, just after leaving the Ne-= 
 braska ; and, finding that they had frightened off all the game, 
 had been obliged to push on, by forced marches, to avoid 
 famine; both men and horses were, therefore, much traveh 
 worn; but this was no place to halt; the plain before them he 
 said, was destitute of grass and water, neither of which would 
 be met with short of the Green River, which was yet at a con- 
 siderable distance. He hoped, he added, as his party were all 
 on horseback, to reach the river, with hard travelling, by 
 nightfall; but he doubted the possibility of Captain Bonne- 
 ville’s arrival there with his wagons before the day following. 
 Having imparted this information, he pushed forward with all 
 speed. 
 
48 
 
 AhVKIsTVUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 Captain Bonneville followed on as fast as circumstances 
 would permit. The ground was firm and gravelly; but the 
 horses were too much fatigued to move rapidly. After a long 
 and harassing day’s march, without pausing for a noontide 
 meal, they were compelled at nine o’clock at night to encamp 
 in an open plain, destitute of water or pasturage. On the fob 
 lowing morning, the horses were turned loose at the peep of 
 day, to slake their thirst, if possible, from the dew collected 
 on the sparse grass, here and there springing up among dry 
 sand-banks. The soil of a great part of this Green River 
 valley is a whitish clay, into which the rain cannot penetrate, 
 but which dries and cracks with the sun. In some places it 
 produces a salt weed, and grass along the margins of the 
 streams ; but the wider expanses of it are desolate and barren. 
 It was not until noon that Captain Bonneville reached the 
 banks of the Seeds-ke-dee, or Colorado of the West; in the 
 mean time, the sufferings of both men and horses had been 
 excessive, and it was with almost frantic eagerness that they 
 hurried to allay their burning thirst in the limpid current of 
 the river. 
 
 Fontenelle and his party had not fared much hotter; the 
 chief part had managed to reach the river by nightfall, but 
 were nearly knocked up by the exertion ; the horses of others 
 sank under them, and they were obliged to pass the night upon 
 the road. 
 
 On the following morning, July 27, Fontenelle moved his 
 camp across the river, while Captain Bonneville proceeded 
 some little distance below, where there was a small but fresh 
 meadow, yielding abundant pasturage. Here the poor jaded 
 horses were turned out to graze, and take their rest: the 
 weary journey up the mountains had worn them down in 
 flesh and spirit ; but this last march across the thirsty plain 
 had nearly finished them. 
 
 The captain had here the first taste of the boasted strategy 
 of the fur trade. During his brief but social encampment in 
 company with Fontenelle, that experienced trapper had man- 
 aged to win over a number of Delaware Indians whom the 
 captain had brought with him, by offering them four hundred 
 dollars each, for the ensuing autumnal hunt. The captain was 
 somewhat astonished when he saw these hunters, on whose 
 services he had calculated securely, suddenly pack up their 
 traps, and go over to the rival camp. That he might in 
 some measure, however, be even with his competitor, he dis- 
 
AhVENTVUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 49 
 
 patched two scouts to look out for the band of free trappers 
 who were to meet Fontenelle in this neighborhood, and to en- 
 deavor to bring them to his camp. 
 
 As it would be necessary to remain some time in this neigh- 
 borhood, that both men and horses might repose, and recruit 
 their strength ; and as it was a region full of danger, Captain 
 Bonneville proceeded to fortify his camp with breastworks of 
 logs and pickets. 
 
 These precautions were, at that time, peculiarly necessary 
 from the bands of Blackfeet Indians which were roving about 
 the neighborhood. These savages are the most dangerous ban- 
 ditti of the mountains, and the inveterate foe of the trappers. 
 They are Ishmaelites of the first order ; ahvays with weapon 
 in hand, ready for action. The young braves of the tribe, who 
 are destitute of property, go to war for booty ; to gain horses, 
 and acquire the means of setting up a lodge, supporting a 
 family, and entitling themselves to a seat in the public coun- 
 cils. The veteran warriors fight merely for the love of the 
 thing, and the consequence which success gives them among 
 their people. 
 
 They are capital horsemen, and are generally well mounted 
 on short, stout horses, similar to the prairie ponies to be met 
 with at St. Louis. When on a v/ar party, however, they go 
 on foot, to enable them to skulk through the country with 
 greater secrecy ; to keep in thickets and ravines, and use more 
 adroit subterfuges and stratagems. Their mode of warfare is 
 entirely by ambush, surprise, and sudden assaults in the night 
 time. If they succeed in causing a panic, they dash forward 
 with headlong fury : if the enemy is on the alert, and shows 
 no signs of fear, they become wary and deliberate in their 
 movements. 
 
 Some of them are armed in the primitive style, with bows 
 and arrows; the greater part have American fusees, made 
 after the fashion of those of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 
 These they procure at the trading post of the American Fur 
 Company, on Marias River, where they traffic their peltries 
 for arms, ammunition, clothing, and trinkets. They are ex- 
 tremely fond of spirituous liquors and tobacco; for which 
 nuisances tney are ready to exchange, not merely their guns 
 and horses, but even their wives and daughters. As they are 
 a treacherous race, and have cherished a lurking hostility to 
 the whites ever since one of their tribe was killed by Mr. 
 Lewis, the associate of General Clarke in his exploring expedi- 
 
50 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 tion across the Rocky Mountains, the American Fur Company 
 is ohhged constantly to keep at that post a garrison of sixty or 
 seventy men. 
 
 Under the general name of Blackfeet are comprehended sev- 
 eral tribes : such as the Surcies, the Peagans, the Blood Indians, 
 and the Grros Ventres of the Prairies: who roam about the 
 southern branches of the Yellowstone and Missouri Rivers, 
 together with some other tribes further north. 
 
 The bands infesting the Wind River Mountains, and the 
 country adjacent, at the time of which we are treating, were 
 Gros Ventres of the Prairies^ which are not to be confounded 
 with Gros Ventres of the Missouri^ who keep about the loieer 
 part of that river, and are friendly to the white men. 
 
 This hostile hand keeps about the head waters of the Mis- 
 souri, and numbers about nine hundred fighting men. Once 
 in the course of two or three years they abandon their usual 
 abodes, and make a visit to the Arapahoes of the Arkansas. 
 Their route lies either through the Crow country, and the 
 Black Hills, or through the lands of the Nez Perces, Flatheads, 
 Bannacks, and Shoshonies. As they enjoy their favorite state 
 of hostility with all these tribes, their expeditions are prone to 
 be conducted in the most lawless and predatory style ; nor do 
 they hesitate to extend their maraudings to any party of white 
 men they meet with; following their trails; hovering about 
 their camps ; waylaying and dodging the caravans of the free 
 traders, and murdering the solitary trapper. The conse- 
 quences are frequent and desperate fights between them and 
 the ‘‘mountaineers,” in the wild defiles and fastnesses of the 
 Rocky Mountains. 
 
 The band in question was, at this time, on their way home- 
 ward from one of their customary visits to the Arapahoes; 
 and in the ensuing chapter we shall treat of some bloody en- 
 counters between them and the trappers, which had taken 
 place just before the arrival of Captain Bonneville among th& 
 mountains. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 61 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SUBLETTE AND HIS BAND— ROBERT CAMPBELL— MR. WYETH AND 
 A BAND OF ^ ‘ DO WN-E asters”— YANKEE ENTERPRISE — FITZ“ 
 PATRICK — HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE BLACKFEET— A RENDEZ- 
 VOUS OF MOUNTAINEERS— THE BATTLE OF PIERRE’S HOLE — AN 
 INDIAN AMBUSCADE— SUBLETTE’S RETURN. 
 
 Leaving Captain Bonneville and his band ensconced within 
 their fortified camp in the Green River valley, we shall step 
 back and accompany a party of the Rocky Mountain Fur Com- 
 pany in its progress, with supplies from St. Louis, to the 
 annual rendezvous at Pierre’s Hole. This party consisted of 
 sixty men, well mounted, and conducting a line of pack-horses. 
 They were commanded by Captain William Sublette, a part- 
 ner in the company, and one of the most active, intrepid, and 
 renowned leaders in this half military kind of service. He 
 was accompanied by his associate in business, and tried com- 
 panion in danger, Mr. Robert Campbell, one of the pioneers of 
 the trade beyond the mountains, who had commanded trap- 
 ping parties there in times of the greatest peril. 
 
 As these worthy compeers were on their route to the fron- 
 tier, they fell in with another expedition, likewise on its way 
 to the mountains. This was a party of regular ‘‘down- 
 easters,” that is to say, people of New England who, with the 
 all-penetrating and all-pervading spirit of their race Wbx o now 
 pushing their way into a new field of enterprise with which 
 they were totally unacquainted. The party had been fitted 
 out and was maintained and commanded by Mr. Nathaniel J. 
 Wyeth, of Boston.* This gentleman had conceived an idea 
 that a profitable fishery for salmon might be established on the 
 Columbia River, and connected with the fur trade. He had, 
 accordingly, invested capital in goods, calculated, as he sup- 
 posed, for the Indian trade, and had enlisted a numbe'r of 
 eastern men in his employ, who had never been in the Far 
 West, nor knew anything of^the wilderness. With these he 
 was bravely steering his way across the continent, undismayed 
 
 * In the former editions of this work we have erroneously given this enterprising 
 individual the title of captain, 
 
52 
 
 adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 
 
 by danger, difficulty, or distance, in the same way that a New 
 England coaster and his neighbors will coolly launch forth on 
 a voyage to the Black Sea or a whaling cruise to the Pacific. 
 
 With all their national aptitude at expedient and resource, 
 Wyeth and his men felt themselves completely at a loss when 
 they reached the frontier, and found that the wilderness re- 
 :|uired experience and habitudes of which they were totally 
 ieficient. Not one of the party, excepting the leader, had ever 
 seen an Indian or handled a rifle ; they were without guide or 
 interpreter, and totally unacquainted with ‘‘wood craft” and 
 the modes of making their v/ay among savage hordes, and sub- 
 sisting themselves during long marches over wild mountains 
 and barren i3lains. 
 
 In this predicament. Captain Sublette found them, in a man- 
 ner becalmed, or rather run aground, at the little frontier town 
 of Independence in Missouri, and kindly took them in tow. 
 The two parties travelled amicably together; the frontier men 
 of Sublette’s party gave their Yankee comrades some lessons 
 in hunting, and some insight into the art and mystery of deal- 
 ing with the Indians, and they all arrived without accident at 
 the upper branches of the Nebraska or Platte Eiver. 
 
 In the course of their march, Mr. Fitzpatrick, the partner of 
 the company who was resident at that time beyond the moun- 
 tains, came down from the rendezvous at Pierre’s Hole, to 
 meet them and hurry them forward. He travelled in company 
 with them until they reached the Sweet Water; then taking a 
 couple of horses, one for the saddle and the other a.s a pack- 
 horse, he started off express for Pierre’s Hole, to make arrange- 
 ments against their arrival, that he might commence his 
 hunting campaign before the rival company. 
 
 Fitzpatrick was a hardy and experienced mountaineer, and 
 knew aU the passes and defiles. As he was pursuing his lonely 
 course up the Green Eiver valley, he descried several horse- 
 men at a distance, and came to a halt to reconnoitre. He sup- 
 posed them to be some detachment from the rendezvous, or a 
 party of friendly Indians. They perceived him, and setting 
 up the war-whoop, dashed forward at full speed; he saw at 
 once his mistake and his peril — they were Blackfeet. Spring- 
 ing upon his fleetest horse, and abandoning the other to the 
 enemy, he made for the mountains and succeeded in escaping 
 up one of the most dangerous defiles. Here he concealed 
 himself until he thought the Indians had gone off, when he 
 returned into the valley. He _was„ again pursued, lost his 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVIi/LE. 
 
 m 
 
 remaining horse, and only escaped by scrambling up among 
 the clilfs. For several days he remained lurking among rocks 
 and precipices and almost famished, having but one remain- 
 ing charge in his rifle, which he kept for self-defence. 
 
 In the meantime, Sublette and Campbell, with their fellow- 
 traveUer, Wyeth, had pursued their march unmolested, and 
 arrived in the Green River vaUey, totally unconscious that 
 there was any lurking enemy at hand. They had encamped 
 one night on the banks of a small stream, which came down 
 from the Wind River Mountains, when about midnight a band 
 of Indians burst upon their camp, with horrible yells and 
 whoops, and a discharge of guns and arrows. Happily no 
 other harm was done than wounding one mule, and causing 
 several horses to break loose from their pickets. The camp 
 was instantly in arms ; but the Indians retreated with yells of 
 exultation, carrying off several of the horses under covert of 
 the night. 
 
 This was somewhat of a disagreeable foretaste of mountain 
 life to some of Wyeth’s band, accustomed only to the regular 
 and peaceful life of New England; nor was it altogether to the 
 taste of Captain Sublette’s men, who were chiefly creoles and 
 townsmen from St. Louis. They continued their march the 
 next morning, keeping scouts ahead and upon their flanks, and 
 arrived without further molestation at Pierre’s Hole. 
 
 The first inquiry of Captain Sublette, on reaching the ren- 
 dezvous, was for Fitzpatrick. He had not arrived, nor had 
 any intelligence been received concerning him. Great uneasi- 
 ness was now entertained, lest he should have fallen into the 
 hands of the Blackfeet who had made the midnight attack 
 upon the camp. It was a matter of general joy, therefore, 
 when he made his appearance, conducted by tv/o half-breed 
 Iroquois hunters. He had lurked for several days among the 
 mountains until almost starved ; at length he escaped the vigi- 
 lance of his enemies in the night, and was so fortunate as to 
 meet the two Iroquois hunters who, being on horseback, con- 
 veyed him without further difficulty to the rendezvous. He 
 arrived there so emaciated that he could scarcely be recog- 
 nized. 
 
 The valley called Pierre’s Hole is about thirty miles in length 
 and fifteen in width, bounded to the west and south by low 
 and broken ridges, and overlooked to the east by three lofty 
 mountains called the three Tetons, which domineer as land*- 
 marks over a vast extent of country. 
 
54 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 A fine stream, fed by rivulets and mountain springs, pours 
 through the valley toward the north, dividing it into nearly 
 equal parts. The meadows on its borders are broad and ex~ 
 tensive, covered with willow and cottonwood trees, so closely 
 interlocked and matted together as to be nearly impassable. 
 
 In this valley was congregated the motley populace connected 
 with the fur trade. Here the two rival companies had their 
 encampments, with their retainers of all kinds: traders, trap- 
 pers, hunters, and half-breeds, assembled from all quarters, 
 awaiting their yearly supplies, and their orders to start off in 
 new directions. Here, also, the savage tribes connected with 
 the trade, the Nez Perces or Chopunnish Indians, and Flat- 
 heads, had pitched their lodges beside the streams, and with 
 their squaws, awaited the distribution of goods and finery. 
 There was, moreover, a band of fifteen free trappers, com- 
 manded by a gaUant leader from Arkansas, named Sinclair, 
 who held their encampment a little apart from the rest. Such 
 was the wild and heterogeneous assemblage, amounting to 
 several hundred men, civilized and savage, distributed in tents 
 and lodges in the several camps. 
 
 The arrival of Captain Sublette with supplies put the Eocky 
 Mountain Fur Company in full activity. The wares and mer- 
 chandise were quickly opened, and as quickly disposed of to 
 trappers and Indians ; the usual excitement and revelry took 
 place, after which all hands began to disperse to their several 
 destinations. 
 
 On the 17 th of July, a small brigade of fourteen trappers, led 
 by Milton Sublette, brother of the captain, set out with the in- 
 tention of proceeding to the southwest. They were accompa- 
 nied by Sinclair and his fifteen free trappers ; Wyeth, also, and 
 his New England band of beaver hunters and salmon fishers, 
 now dwindled down to eleven, took this opportunity to prose- 
 cute their cruise in the wilderness, accompanied with such 
 experienced pilots. On the first day they proceeded about 
 eight miles to the southeast, and encamped for the night, still 
 In the valley of Pierre’s Hole. On the following morning, just 
 as they were raising their camp, they observed a long line of 
 people pouring down a defile of the mountains. They at first 
 supposed them to be Fontenelle and his party, whose arrival 
 had been daily expected. Wyeth, however, reconnoitred them 
 with a spy-glass, and soon perceived they were Indians. They 
 were divided into two parties, forming, in the whole, about 
 one hundred and fifty persons, men, women ond children. 
 
adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 55 
 
 Some were on horseback, fantastically painted and arrayed, 
 with scarlet blankets fluttering in the wind. The greater part, 
 however, were on foot. They had perceived the trappers 
 before they were themselves discovered, and came down yell- 
 ing and whooping into the plain. On nearer approach thev 
 were ascertained to be Blackfeet. 
 
 One of the trappers of Sublette’s brigade, a half-breed, 
 named Antoine Godin, now mounted his horse, and rode forth 
 as if to hold a conference. He was the son of an li oquois 
 hunter, who had been cruelly murdered by the Eiackfeet at a 
 small stream below the mountains, which still bears his name. 
 In company with Antoine rode forth a Flathead Indian, whose 
 once powerful tribe had been completely broken down in their 
 wars with the Blackfeet. Both of them, therefore, cherished 
 the most vengeful hostility against these marauders of the 
 mountains. The Blackfeet came to a halt. One of the chiefs 
 advanced singly and unarmed, bearing the pipe of peace. 
 This overture was certainly pacific ; but Antoine and the Flat- 
 head were predisposed to hostility, and pretended to consider 
 it a treacherous movemeut. 
 
 “ Is your piece charged?” said Antoine to his red companion. 
 
 ‘‘It is.” 
 
 “ Then cock it and follow me.” 
 
 They met the Blackfoot chief half-way, who extended his 
 hand in friendship. Antoine grasped it. 
 
 “Fire!” cried he. 
 
 The Flathead levelled his piece, and brought the Blackfoot 
 to the ground. Antoine snatched off his scarlet blanket, which 
 was richly ornamented, and galloped off with it as a trophy 
 to the camp, the bullets of the enemy whistling after him. 
 The Indians immediately threw themselves into the edge of a 
 swamp, among willows and cottonwood trees, interwoven with 
 vines. Here they began to fortify themselves; the women 
 digging a trench, and throwing up a breastwork of logs and 
 branches, deep hid in the bosom of the wood, while the war- 
 riors skirmished at the edge to keep the trappers at bay. 
 
 The latter took their station in a ravine in front, whence 
 they kept up a scattering fire. As to Wyeth, and his little 
 band of “ down-easters,” they were perfectly astounded by this 
 second specimen of hf e in the wilderness ; the men, being es- 
 pecially unused to bush-fighting and the use of the rifle, were 
 at a loss how to proceed. Wyeth, however, acted as a skilful 
 commander. He got all his horses into camp and secured 
 
56 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 them; then, making a breastwork of his packs of goods, he 
 charged his men to remain in garrison, and not to stir out of 
 their fort. For himself, he mingled with the other leaders, 
 determined to take his share in the conflict. 
 
 In the meantime, an express had been sent off to the rendez 
 vous for reinforcements. Captain Sublette and his associate, 
 Campbell, were at their camp when the express came galloping 
 across the plain, waving his cap, and giving the alarm ; ‘‘Black- 
 feet! Elackfeet! a fight in the upper part of the valley!-— to 
 arms! to arms I”. . 
 
 The alarm was passed from camp to camp. It was a com- 
 mon cause. Every one turned out with horse and rifle. The 
 Nez Perces and Flatheads joined. As fast as horseman could 
 arm and mount he galloped off ; the valley was soon ahve v/ith 
 white men and red men scouring at full speed. 
 
 Sublette ordered his men to keep to the camp, being recruits 
 from St. Louis, and unused to Indian warfare. He and his 
 friend Campbell prepared for action. Throwing off their 
 coats, rolling up their sleeves, and arming themselves with 
 pistols and rifles, they mounted their horses and dashed for- 
 ward among the first. As they rode along, they made their 
 wills in soldier-like style ; each stating how his effects should 
 be disposed of in case of his death, and appointing the other 
 his executor. 
 
 The Blackfeet warriors had supposed the brigade of Milton . 
 Sublette all the foes they had to deal with, and were aston- 
 ished to behold the whole valley suddenly swarming with 
 horsemen, galloping to the field of action. They withdrew 
 into their fort, which was completely hid from sight in the 
 dark and tangled wood. Most of their women and children 
 had retreated to the mountains. The trappers now sallied 
 forth and approached the swamp, firing into the thickets at 
 random ; the Blackfeet had a better sight at their adversaries, 
 who were in the open field, and a half-breed was wounded in 
 the shoulder. 
 
 When Captain Sublette arrived, he urged to penetrate the 
 swamp and storm the fort, but all hung back in awe of the 
 dismal horrors of the place, and the danger of attacking such 
 desperadoes in their savage den. The very Indian allies, 
 though accustomed to bush-fighting, regarded it as almost 
 impenetrable, and full of frightful danger. Sublette was not 
 to be turned from his purpose, but offered to lead the way into 
 the swHmp^ Campbell stepped forward to accompany him. 
 
ADVENTUlibJS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 57 
 
 Before entering the perilous v>^ood, Sublette took his brothers 
 aside, and told them that in case he fell, Campbell, who knew 
 his will, was to be his executor. This done, he grasped his rifle 
 and pushed into the thickets, followed by Campbell. Sinclair, 
 the partisan from Arkansas, was at the edge of the wood with 
 his brother and a few of his men. Excited by the gallant ex- 
 ample of the two friends, he pressed forward to share their 
 dangers. 
 
 The swamp was produced by the labors of the beaver, which, 
 by damming up a stream, had inundated a portion of the val- 
 ley. The place was all overgrown with woods and thickets, 
 so closely matted and entangled that it was impossible to see 
 ten paces ahead, and the three associates in peril had to crawl 
 along one after another, making their way by putting the 
 branches and vines aside ; but doing it with caution, lest they 
 should attract the eye of some lurking marksman. They took 
 the lead by turns, each advancing about twenty yards at a 
 time, and now and then hallooing to their men to follow. 
 Some of the latter gradually entered the swamp, and followed 
 a little distance in their rear. 
 
 They had now reached a more open part of the wood, and 
 had glimpses of the rude fortress from between the trees. It 
 was a mere breastwork, as we have said, of logs and branches, 
 with blankets, buffalo robes, and the leathern covers of lodges 
 extended round the top as a screen. The movements of the 
 leaders, as they groped their way, had been descried by the 
 sharp-sighted enemy. As Sinclair, who was in the advance, 
 was putting some branches aside, he was shot through the 
 body. He fell on the spot. “Take me to my brother, ” said 
 he to Campbell. The latter gave him in charge to some of the 
 men, who conveyed him out of the swamp. 
 
 Sublette now took the advance. As he was reconnoitring 
 the fort, he perceived an Indian peeping through an aperture. 
 In an instant his rifle was levelled and discharged, and the ball 
 struck the savage in the eye. While he was reloading, he 
 called to Campbell, and pointed out to him the hole; “ Watch 
 that place,” said he, “ and you will soon have a fair chance for 
 a shot.” Scarce had he uttered the words, when a ball struck 
 him in the shoulder, and almost wheeled him round. His first 
 thought was to take hold of his arm with his other hand, and 
 move it up and down. He ascertained, to his satisfaction, 
 that the bone was not broken. The next moment he was so 
 faint that he could not stand. Campbell took him in his arms 
 
58 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 and carried him out of the thicket. The same shot that struck 
 Sublette wounded another man in the head. 
 
 A brisk fire was now opened by the mountaineers from the 
 wood, answered occasionally from the fort. Unluckily, the 
 trappers and their allies, in searching for the fort, had got 
 scattered so that Wyeth and a number of Nez Perces ap- 
 proached the fort on the northwest side, wliile others did the 
 same on the opposite quarter. A cross-fire thus took place 
 which occasionally did mischief to friends as well as foes. An 
 Indian was shot down close to Wyeth, by a ball which, he was 
 convinced, had been sped from the rifle of a trapper on the 
 other side of the fort. 
 
 The number of whites and their Indian allies had by this 
 time so much increased by arrivals from the rendezvous, that 
 the Blackfeet were completely overmatched. They kept dog- 
 gedly in their fort, however, making no offer of surrender. 
 An occasional firing into the breastwork was kept up during 
 the day. Now and then one of the Indian allies, in bravado, 
 would rush up to the fort, fire over the ramparts, tear off a 
 buffalo robe or a scarlet blanket, and return with it in triumph 
 to his comrades. Most of the savage garrison that fell, how- 
 ever, were killed in the first part of the attack. 
 
 At one time it was resolved to set fire to the fort ; and the 
 squaws belonging to the allies were employed to collect com- 
 bustibles. This, however, was abandoned; the Nez Perces 
 being unwilling to destroy the robes and blankets, and other 
 spoils of the enemy, which they felt sure would fall into their 
 hands. 
 
 The Indians, when fighting, are prone to taunt and revile 
 each other. During one of the pauses of the battle the voice 
 of the Blackfeet chief was heard. 
 
 So long,” said he, “as we had powder and ball, we fought 
 you in the open field: when those were spent, we retreated 
 here to die with our women and children. You may burn us 
 in our fort ; but, stay by our ashes, and you who are so hungry 
 for fighting will soon have enough. There are four hundred 
 lodges of our brethren at hand. They will soon be here — their 
 arms are strong — their hearts are big — they will avenge ns !” 
 
 This speech was translated two or three times by Nez Perce 
 and creole interpreters. By the time it was rendered into 
 English, the chief was made to say that four hundred lodges 
 of his tribe were attacking the encampment at the other end 
 of the valley. Every one now was for hurrying to the de* 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 m 
 
 fence of the rendezvous. A party was left to keep watch upon 
 the fort ; the rest galloped off to the camp. As night came on, 
 the trappers drew out of the swamp, and remained about the 
 skirts of the wood. By morning, their companions returned 
 from the rendezvous, with the report that all was safe. As 
 the day opened, they ventured within the swamp and ap- 
 proached the fort. All was silent. They advanced up to it 
 without opposition. They entered : it had been abandoned in 
 the night, and the Blackfeet had effected their retreat, carry- 
 ing off their wounded on litters made of branches, leaving 
 bloody traces on the herbage. The bodies of ten Indians were 
 found within the fort ; among them the one shot in the eye by 
 Sublette. The Blackfeet afterward reported that they had lost 
 twenty-six warriors in this battle. Thirty -two horses were 
 likewise found killed; among them were some of those re- 
 cently carried off from Sublette’s party, in the night; vdiich 
 showed that these were the very savages that had attacked 
 him. They proved to be an advance party of the main body 
 of Blackfeet, Avhich had been upon the trail of Sublette’s party. 
 Five white men and one half-breed w^ero killed, and several 
 wounded. Seven of the Nez Perces were also killed, and six 
 w^ounded. They had an old chief who v/as reputed as invul- 
 nerable. In the course of the action he was hit by a spent 
 ball, and threw up blood; but his skin was unbroken. His 
 people were now fully convinced that he was proof against 
 powder and ball. 
 
 A striking circumstance is related as having occurred the 
 morning after the battle. As soaie of the trappers and their 
 Indian allies were approaching the fort, through the woods, 
 they beheld an Indian woman, of noble form and features, 
 leaning against a tree. Their surprise at her lingering here 
 alone, to fall into the hands of her enemies, was dispelled, 
 when they saw the corpse of a warrior at her feet. Either 
 she was so lost in grief as not to perceive their approach ; or a 
 proud spirit kept her silent and motionless. The Indians set 
 up a yell, on discovering her, and before the trappers could in- 
 terfere, her mangled body fell upon the corpse which she had 
 refused to abandon. We have heard this anecdote discredited 
 by one of the leaders who had been in the battle : but the fact 
 may have taken place without his seeing it, and been con- 
 cealed from him. It is an instance of female devotion, even to 
 the death, which we are well disposed to believe and to record. 
 
 After the battle, the brigade of Miltojx Sublette, together 
 
60 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 with the free trappers, and Wyeth’s New England band, re^ 
 mained some days at the rendezvous, to see if the main body 
 of Blackfeet intended to make an attack ; nothing of the kind 
 occurring, they once more put themselves in motion, and pro- 
 ceeded on their route toward the southwest. 
 
 Captain Sublette having distributed his supplies, had in- 
 tended to set off on his return to St. Louis, taking with him 
 the peltries collected from the trappers and Indians. His 
 wound, however, obliged him to postpone his departure. Sev- 
 eral who were to have accompanied him became impatient 
 of this delay. Among these was a young Bostonian, Mr. 
 Joseph More, one of the followers of Mr. Wyeth, who had seen 
 enough of mountain hfe and savage warfare, and was eager to 
 return to the abodes of civilization. He and six others, among 
 whom were a Mr. Foy, of Mississippi, Mr. Alfred K. Stephens, 
 of St. Louis, and two grandsons *of the celebrated Daniel 
 Boone, set out together, in advance of Sublette’s party, think- 
 ing they would make their own way through the mountains. 
 
 It was just five days after the battle of the swamp, that 
 these seven companions were making their way through Jack- 
 son’s Hole, a valley not far from the three Tetons^ when, as 
 they were descending a hill, a party of Blackfeet that lay in 
 ambush started up with terrific yells. The horse of the young 
 Bostonian, who was in front, wheeled round with affright, and 
 threw his unskilful rider. The young man scrambled up the 
 side of the hill, but, unaccustomed to such wild scenes, lost 
 his presence of mind, and stood, as if paralyzed, on the edge 
 of a bank, until the Blackfeet came up and slew him on the 
 spot. His comrades had fled on the first alarm; but two of 
 them, Foy and Stephens, seeing his danger paused when they 
 got half way up the hiU, turned back, dismounted, and has- 
 tened to his assistance. Foy was instantly killed. Stephens 
 was severely wounded, but escaped to die five days afterward. 
 The survivors returned to the camp of Captain Sublette, bring- 
 ing tidings of this new disaster. That hardy leader, as soon as 
 he could bear the journey, set out on his return to St. Louis, 
 accompanied by Campbell. As they had a number of pack- 
 horses richly laden with peltries to convoy, they chose a dif- 
 ferent route through the mountains, out of the way, as they 
 hoped, of the lurking bands of Blackfeet. They succeeded in 
 making the frontier in safety. We remember to have seen 
 them with their band, about two or three months afterward, 
 passing through a skirt of woodland in the upper po,rt of MiS' 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 61 
 
 souri. Their long cavalcade stretched in single file for nearly 
 half a mile. Sublette still wore his arm in a sling. The moun- 
 taineers in their rude hunting dresses, armed with rifles and 
 roughly mounted, and leading their pack-horses down a hill of 
 the forest, looked like banditti returning with plunder. On 
 the top of some of the packs were perched several half-breed 
 children, perfect little imps, with wild black eyes glaring from 
 among elf locks. These, I was told, were children of the 
 trappers; pledges of love from their squaw spouses in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 RETREAT OP THE BLACKFEET— FONTENELLE’S CAMP IN DANGER 
 — CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE AND THE BLACKFEET — FREE TRAPPERS 
 — THEIR CHARACTER, HABITS, DRESS, EQUIPMENTS, HORSES— 
 GAME FELLOWS OP THE MOUNTAINS — THEIR VISIT TO THE 
 CAMP — GOOD FELLOWSHIP AND GOOD CHEER — A CAROUSE — A 
 SWAGGER, A BRAWL, AND A RECONCILIATION. 
 
 The Blackfeet warriors, when they effected their midnight 
 retreat from their wild fastness in Pierre’s Hole, fell back into 
 the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, or Green River, where they 
 joined the main body of their band. The whole force 
 amounted to several hundred fighting men, gloomy and exas- 
 perated by their late disaster. They had with them their 
 wives and children, which incapacitated them from any bold 
 and extensive enterprise of a warlike nature ; but when, in the 
 course of their wanderings, they came in sight of the encamp- 
 ment of Fontenelle, who had moved some distance up Green 
 River valley in search of the free trappers, they put up tre- 
 mendous war-cries, and advanced fiercely as if to attack it. 
 Second thoughts caused them to moderate their fury. They 
 recollected the severe lesson just received, and could not but 
 remark the strength of Fontenelle’s position ; which had been 
 chosen ?with great judgment. A formal talk ensued. The 
 Blackfeet said nothing of the late battle, of which Fontenelle 
 had as yet received no accounts ; the latter, however, knew the 
 hostile and perfidious nature of these savages, and took care to 
 inform them of the encampment of Captain Bonneville, that 
 they might know there were more white men in the neighbor- 
 hood. 
 
62 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 The conference ended, Fontenelle sent a Delaware Indian of 
 his party to conduct fifteen of the Blackfeet to the camp of 
 Captain Bonneville. There were at that time two Crow In- 
 dians in the captain’s camp who had recently arrived there. 
 They looked with dismay upon this deputation from their im- 
 placable enemies, and gave the captain a terrible character of 
 them, assuring him that the best thing he could possibly do 
 was to put those Blackfeet deputies to death on the spot. The 
 captain, however, who had heard nothing of the conflict at 
 Pierre’s Hole, declined all compliance with this sage counsel. 
 He treated the grim warriors with his usual urbanity. They 
 passed some little time at the camp ; saw, no doubt, that every- 
 thing was conducted with military skill and vigilance ; and 
 that such an enemy was not to be easily surprised, nor to be 
 molested with impunity, and then departed, to report all that 
 they had seen to their comrades. 
 
 The two scouts which Captain Bonneville had sent out to 
 seek for the band of free trappers, expected by Fontenelle, and 
 to invite them to his camp, had been successful in their search, 
 and on the 12th of August those worthies made their appear- 
 ance. 
 
 To explain the meaning of the appellation free trapper it is 
 necessary to state the terms on which the men enlist in the 
 service of the fur companies. Some have regular wages and 
 are furnished with weapons, horses, traps, and other requisites. 
 These are under command, and bound to do every duty re- 
 quired of them connected with the service; such as hunting, 
 trapping, loading and unloading the horses, mounting guard ; 
 and, in short, all the drudgery of the camp. These are the 
 hired trappers. 
 
 The free trappers are a more independent class; and in de- 
 scribing them we shall do little more than transcribe the gra- 
 phic description of them by Captain Bonneville. ‘ ^ They come 
 and go,” says he, “ when and where they please; provide their 
 own horses, arms, and other equipments; trap and trade on 
 their own account, and dispose of their skins and peltries to 
 the highest bidder. Sometimes, in a dangerous hunting 
 ground, they attach themselves to the camp of some trader 
 for protection. Here they come under some restrictions ; they 
 have to conform to the ordinary rules for trapping, and to sub- 
 mit to such restraints and to take part in such general duties 
 as are established for the good order and safety of the camp. 
 In return for this protection, and for their camp keeping, they 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 83 
 
 are bound to dispose of all the beaver they take to the trader 
 who commands the camp, at a certain rate per skin ; or, should 
 they prefer seeking a market elsewhere, they are to make him 
 an allowance of from thirty to forty dollars for the whoi# 
 hunt.” 
 
 There is an inferior order who, either from prudence or 
 poverty, come to these dangerous hunting grounds without 
 horses or accoutrements, and are furnished by the traders. 
 These, like the hired trappers, are bound to exert themselves 
 to the utmost in taking beaver, which, without skinning, they 
 render in at the trader’s lodge, where a stipulated price for 
 each is placed to their credit. These, though generally in- 
 cluded in the generic name of free trappers, have the more 
 specific title of skin trappers. 
 
 The wandering whites who mingle for any length of time 
 with the savages have invariably a proneness to adopt savage 
 habitudes ; but none more so than the free trappers. It is a 
 matter of vanity and ambition with them to discard every- 
 thing that may bear the stamp of civilized life, and to adopt 
 the manners, habits, dress, gesture, and even walk of the In- 
 dian. You cannot pay a free trapper a greater compliment 
 than to persuade him you have mistaken him for an Indian 
 brave; and in truth the counterfeit is complete. His hair, 
 suffered to attain to a great length, is carefully combed out, 
 and either left to fall carelessly over his shoulders, or plaited 
 neatly and tied up in otter skins of parti-colored ribbons. A 
 hunting-shirt of ruffled calico of bright dyes, or of ornamented 
 leather, falls to liis knee: below which, curiously fashioned 
 leggins, ornamented with strings, fringes, and a profusion of 
 hawks’ bells, reach to a costly pair of moccasons of the finest 
 Indian fabric, richly embroidered with beads. A blanket of 
 scarlet, or some other bright color, hangs from his shoulders, 
 and is girt round his waist with a red sash, in which he be- 
 stows his pistols, knife, and the stem of his Indian pipe ; pre- 
 parations either for peace or war. His gun is lavishly deco- 
 rated with brass tacks and vermilion, and provided with a 
 fringed cover, occasionally of buckskin, ornamented here and 
 there with a feather. His horse, the noble minister to the 
 pride, pleasure, and profit of the mountaineer, is selected for 
 his speed and spirit and prancing gait, and holds a place in his 
 estimation second only to himself. He shares largely of his 
 bounty, and of his pride and pomp of trapping. He is ca- 
 parisoned in the most dashing and fantastic style ; the bridles 
 
64 
 
 ADVENTURED OF CAFTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 and crupper are weightily embossed with beads and cockades; 
 and head, mane and tail are interwoven with abundance of 
 eagles’ plumes which flutter in the wind. To complete this 
 grotesque equipment, the proud animal is bestreaked and be- 
 spotted with vermilion, or with white clay, whichever presents 
 the most glaring contrast to his real color. 
 
 Such is the account given by Captain Bonneville of these 
 rangers of the wilderness, and their appearance at the camp 
 was strikingly characteristic. They came dashing forward at 
 full speed, firing their fusees and yelling in Indian style. Their 
 dark sunburned faces, and long flowing hair, their leggins, 
 flags, moccasons, and richly-dyed blankets, and their painted 
 horses gaudily caparisoned, gave them so much the air and 
 appearance of Indians that it was difficult to persuade one’s 
 self that they were white men, and had been brought up in 
 civilized life. 
 
 Captain Bonneville, who was delighted with the game look 
 of these cavaliers of the mountains, welcomed them heartily to 
 his camp, and ordered a free allowance of grog to regale them, 
 which soon put them in the most braggart spirits. They pro- 
 nounced the captain the finest fellov/ in the world, and his 
 men all hons gargons^ jo vied lads, and swore they would pass 
 the day with them. They did so ; and a day it was, of boast, 
 and swagger, and rodomontade. The prime bullies and braves 
 among the free trappers had each his circle of novices, from 
 among the captain’s band ; mere greenhorns, men unused to 
 Indian life; mangeurs de lard, or pork-eaters; as such new- 
 comers are superciliously called by the veterans of the wilder- 
 ness. These he would astonish and delight by the hour, with 
 prodigious tales of his doings among the Indians ; and of the 
 wonders he had seen, and the wonders he had performed, in 
 his adventurous peregrinations among the mountains. 
 
 In the evening, the free trappers drew off, and returned to the 
 camp of Fontenelle, highly delighted with their visit, and with 
 their new acquaintances, and promising to return the follow- 
 ing day. They kept their word; day after day their visits 
 were repeated; they became ‘‘hail fellow weU met” with 
 Captain Bonneville’s men; treat after treat succeeded, until 
 both parties got most potently convinced, or rather con- 
 founded, by liquor. Now came on confusion and uproar. The 
 free trappers were no longer suffered to have all the swagger 
 to themselves. The camp bullies and prime trappers of the 
 party began to ruffle up and to brag, in turn, of their perils 
 
ADVENTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 65 
 
 and achievements. Each now tried to out-boast and out- 
 talk the other ; a quarrel ensued, as a matter of course, and a 
 general fight, according to frontier usage. The two factions 
 drew out their forces for a pitched battle. They fell to work 
 and belabored each other with might and main; kicks and 
 cuffs and dry blows were as well bestowed as they were 
 well merited, until, having fought to their hearts’ content, 
 and been drubbed into a familiar acquaintance with each 
 other’s prowess and good qualities, they ended the fight by be- 
 coming firmer friends than they could have been rendered by 
 a year’s peaceable companionship. 
 
 While Captain Bonneville amused himself by observing the 
 habits and characteristics of this singular class of men, and in- 
 dulged them, for the time, in all their vagaries, he profited by 
 the opportunity to collect from them information concerning 
 the different parts of the country about which they had been 
 accustomed to range ; the characters of the tribes, and, in short, 
 everything important to his enterprise. He also succeeded in 
 securing the services of several to guide and aid him in his 
 peregrinations among the mountains, and to trap for him 
 during the ensuing season. Having strengthened his party 
 v/ith such valuable recruits, he felt in some measure consoled 
 for the loss of the Delaware Indians, decoyed from him by Mr. 
 Fontenelle. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 PLANS FOR THE WINTER — SALMON RIVER— ABUNDANCE OF SAL- 
 MON WEST OF THE MOUNTAINS — NEW ARRANGEMENTS— CACHES 
 — CERRE’S detachment — MOVEMENTS IN FONTENELLE’S CAMP 
 — DEPARTURE OF THE BLACKFEET — THEIR FORTUNES — WIND 
 MOUNTAIN STREAMS— BUCKEYE, THE DELAWARE HUNTER, AND 
 THE GRIZZLY BEAR — BONES OF MURDERED TRAVELLERS — VISIT 
 TO PIERRE’S HOLE — TRACES OF THE BATTLE — NEZ PERCE IN- 
 DIANS— ARRIVAL AT SALMON RIVER. 
 
 The information derived from the free trappers determined 
 Captain Bonneville as to his further movements. He learned 
 that in the Green River valley the winters were severe, the 
 snow frequently falling to the depth of several feet ; and that 
 there was no good wintering ground in the neighborhood. 
 
66 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 The upper part of Salmon River was represented as far more 
 eligible, besides being in an excellent beaver country; and 
 thither the captain resolved to bend his course. 
 
 The Salmon River is one of the upper branches of the Oregon 
 or Columbia; and takes its rise from various sources, among a 
 group of mountains to the northwest of the Wind River chain. 
 It owes its name to the immense shoals of salmon which as 
 cend it in the months of September and October. The salmon 
 on the west side of the Rocky Moimtains are, like the buffalo 
 on the eastern plans, vast migratory supplies for the wants of 
 man, that come and go with the seasons. As the buffalo in 
 countless throngs find their certain way in the transient pas- 
 turage on the prairies, along the fresh banks of the rivers, and 
 up every valley and green defile of the mountains, so the sal- 
 mon, at their allotted seasons, regulated by a subhme and all- 
 seeing Providence, swarm in myriads up the great rivers, and 
 find their way up their main branches, and into the minutest 
 tributary streams ; so as to pervade the great arid plains, and 
 to penetrate even among barren mountains. Thus wandering 
 tribes are fed in the desert places of the wilderness, where there 
 is no herbage for the animals of the chase, and where, but for 
 these periodical supplies, it would be impossible for man to 
 subsist. 
 
 The rapid currents of the rivers which run into the Pacific 
 render the ascent of them very exhausting to the salmon. 
 When the fish first run up the rivers, they are fat and in fine 
 order. The struggle against impetuous streams and frequent 
 rapids gradually renders them thin and weak, and great num- 
 bers are seen fioating down the rivers on their backs. As the 
 season advances and the water becomes chilled, they are fiung 
 in myriads on the shores, where the wolves and bears assem- 
 ble to banquet on them. Often they rot in such quantities 
 along the river banks, as to taint the atmosphere. They are 
 commonly from two to three feet long. 
 
 Captain Bonneville now made his arrangements for the 
 autumn and the winter. The nature of the country through 
 which he was about to travel rendered it impossible to proceed 
 with wagons. He had more goods and supplies of various 
 kinds, also, than were required for present purposes, or than 
 could be conveniently transported on horseback ; aided, there- 
 fore, by a few confidential men, he made caches^ or secret pits, 
 during the night, when all the rest of the camp were asleep, 
 and in these deposited the superfluous effects, together with 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 67 
 
 the wagons. All traces of the caches were then carefully 
 obliterated. This is a common expedient v/itn the traders and 
 trappers of the mountains. Having no established posts and 
 magazines, they make these caches or deposits at certain 
 points, whither they repair occasionally, for supplies. It is an 
 expedient derived from the wandering tribes of Indians. 
 
 Many of the horses were stiU so weak and lame as to be 
 unfit for a long scramblo through the mountains. These were 
 collected into one cavalcade, and given in charge to an experi- 
 enced trapper, of the name of Matthieu. He was to proceed 
 westward, with a brigade of trappers, to Bear River ; a stream 
 to the west of the Green River or Colorado, where there was 
 good pasturage for the horses. In this neighborhood it was 
 expected he would meet the Shoshonie villages or bands,* on 
 their yearly migrations, with whom he was to trade for peltries 
 and provisions. After he had traded with these people, finished 
 his trapping, and recruited the strength of the horses, he was 
 to proceed to Salmon River, and rejoin Captain Bonneville, 
 who intended to fix his quarters there for the winter. 
 
 While these arrangements were in progress in the camp of 
 Captain Bonneville, there was a sudden bustle and stir in the 
 camp of Fontenelle. One of the partners of the American Fur 
 Company had arrived, in aU haste, from the rendezvous at 
 Pierre’s Hole, in quest of the supplies. The competition be- 
 tween the two rival companies was just now at its height, and 
 prosecuted with unusual zeal. The tramontane concerns of 
 the Rocky Mountain Fur Company were managed by two 
 resident partners, Fitzpatrick and Bridger ; those of the 
 American Fur Company, by Vanderburgh and Dripps. The 
 latter were ignorant of the mountain regions, but trusted to 
 make up by vigilance and activity for their want of knowledge 
 of the country. « 
 
 Fitzpatrick, an experienced trader and trapper, knew the 
 evils of competition in the same hunting grounds, and had 
 proposed that the two companies should divide the country, so 
 as to hunt in different directions: this proposition being re- 
 jected, he had exerted himself to get first into the field. His 
 exertions, as have already been shown, were effectual. The 
 
 * A village of Indians, in trappers’ language, does not always imply a fixed com- 
 munity; but often a wandering horde or band. The Shoshonies, like most of the 
 mountain tribes, have no settled residences; but are a nomadic people, dwelling in 
 tents or lodges, and shifting their encampments from place to place, according as 
 fish and game abound. 
 
68 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 early arrival of Sublette, with supplies, had enabled the vari- 
 ous brigades of the Rocky Mountain Company to start off to 
 their respective hunting grounds. Fitzpatrick himself, with 
 his associate, Bridger, had pushed off with a strong party of 
 trappers, for a prime beaver country to the north-northwest. 
 
 This had put Vanderburgh upon his mettle. He had has- 
 tened on to meet Fontenelle. Finding him at his camp in 
 Green River valley, he immediately furnished himself with 
 the supplies ; put himself at the head of the free trappers and 
 Delawares, and set off with all speed, determined to follow 
 hard upon the heels of Fitzpatrick and Bridger. Of the ad- 
 ventures of these parties among the mountains, and the dis- 
 astrous effects of their competition, we shall have occasion to 
 treat in a future chapter. 
 
 Fontenelle, having now delivered his supplies and accom- 
 plished his errand, struck his tents and set off on his return to 
 the Yellowstone. Captain Bonneville and his band, therefore, 
 remained alone in the Green River valley ; and their situation 
 might have been perilous, had the Blackfeet band still ling- 
 ered in the vicinity. Those marauders, however, had been 
 dismayed at finding so many resolute and well-appointed par- 
 ties of white men in this neighborhood. They had, therefore, 
 abandoned this part of the country, passing over the head- 
 waters of the Green River, and bending their course toward 
 the Yellowstone. Misfortune pursued them. Their route lay 
 through the country of their deadly enemies, the Crows. In 
 the Wind River valley, which hes east of the mountains, they 
 were encountered by a pov/erful war party of that tribe, and 
 completely put to rout. Forty of them were killed, many of 
 their women and children captured, and the scattered fugitives 
 hunted like wild beasts, until they were completely chased out 
 of the Crow country. 
 
 On the 22d of August Captain Bonneville broke up his 
 camp, and set out on his route for Salmon River. His bag- 
 gage was arranged in packs, three to a mule, or pack-horse ; 
 one being disposed on each side of the animal, and one on 
 the top ; the three forming a load of from one hundred and 
 eighty to two hundred and twenty pounds. This is the trap- 
 pers’ style of loading their pacl^-horses. His men, however, 
 w^ere inexpert at adjusting the packs, which were prone to get 
 loose and slip off, so that it was necessary to keep a rear-guard 
 to assist in reloading. A few days’ experience, however, 
 brought them into proper training. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 69 
 
 Their march lay up the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, over* 
 looked to the right by the lofty peaks of the Wind River 
 Mountains. From bright httle lakes and fountain-heads of 
 this remarkable bed of mountains poured forth the tributary 
 streams of the Seeds-ke-dee. Some came rushing down gullies 
 and ravines; others tumbling in crystal cascades from in- 
 accessible clefts and rocks, and others winding their way in 
 rapid and pellucid currents across the valley, to throw them- 
 selves into the main river. So transparent were these waters 
 that the trout with which they abounded could be seen gliding 
 about as if in the air ; and their pebbly beds were distinctly 
 visible at the depth of many feet. This beautiful and diaph- 
 anous quality of the Rocky Mountain streams prevails for a 
 long time after they have mingled their waters and swollen 
 into important rivers. 
 
 Issuing from the upper part of the valley. Captain Bonne- 
 ville continued to the east-northeast, across rough and lofty 
 ridges, and deep rocky defiles, extremely fatiguing both to 
 man and horse. Among his hunters was a Delaware Indian 
 who had remained faithful to him. His name was Buck- 
 eye. He had often prided himself on his skiU and success 
 in coping with the grizzly bear, that terror of the hunters. 
 Though crippled in the left arm, he declared he had no hesita- 
 tion to close with a wounded bear, and attack him with a 
 sword. If armed with a rifle, he was willing to brave the 
 animal when in full force and fury. He had tv/ice an oppor- 
 tunity of proving his prowess, in the course of this mountain 
 journey, and was each time successful. His mode was to seat 
 himself upon the ground, with his rifle cocked and resting on 
 his lame arm. Thus prepared, he would await the approach 
 of the bear with perfect coolness, nor pull trigger until he 
 was close at hand. In each instance, he laid the monster dead 
 upon the spot. 
 
 A march of three or four days, through savage and lonely 
 scenes, brought Captain Bonneville to the fatal defile of Jack- 
 son’s Hole, where poor More and Foy had been surprised and 
 murdered by the Blackfeet. The feelings of the captain were 
 shocked at beholding the bones of these unfortunate yoimg 
 men bleaching among the rocks ; and he caused them to be 
 decently interred. 
 
 On the 3d of September he arrived on the summit of a moun- 
 tain which commanded a full view of the eventful valley of 
 Pierre’s Hole ; whence he could trace the wdnding of its stream 
 
70 
 
 ADVEJSTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 through green meadows and forests of willow and cottonwood, 
 and have a prospect, between distant mountains, of the lava 
 plains of Snake Eiver, dimlj spread forth like a sleeping ocean 
 below. 
 
 After enjoying this magnificent prospect, he descended into 
 the valley, and visited the scenes of the late desperate conflicto 
 There were the remains of the rude fortress in the STvamp, 
 shattered by rifie shot, and strewed with the mingled bones ot 
 savages and horses. There was the late populous and noisy 
 rendezvous, with the traces of trappers’ camps and Indian 
 lodges ; but their fires were extinguished, the motley assem- 
 blage of trappers and hunters, white traders and Indian 
 braves, had aU dispersed to different points of the wilder- 
 ness, and the valley had relapsed into its pristine solitude 
 and silence. 
 
 That night the captain encamped upon the battle ground ; 
 the next day he resumed his toOsome peregrinations through 
 the mountains. For upward of two weeks he continued his 
 painful march ; both men and horses suffering excessively at 
 times from hunger and thirst. At length, on the 19th of Sep- 
 tember, he reached the upper waters of Salmon River. 
 
 The weather was cold, and there were symptoms of an im- 
 pending storm. The night set in, but Buckeye, the Delaware 
 Indian, was missing. He had left the party early in the morn- 
 ing, to hunt by himself, according to his custom. Fears were 
 entertained lest he should lose his way and become bewildered 
 in tempestuous weather. These fears increased on the follow- 
 ing morning when a violent snow-storm came on, which soon 
 covered the earth to the depth of several inches. Captain 
 Bonneville immediately encamped, and sent out scouts in 
 every direction. After some search Buckeye was discovered, 
 quietly seated at a considerable distance in the rear, waiting 
 the expected approach of the party, not knowing that they had 
 passed, the snow having covered their trail. 
 
 On the ensuing morning they resumed their march at an 
 early hour, but had not proceeded far when the hunters, who 
 were beating up the country in the advance, came gallop- 
 ing back, making signals to encamp, and crying Indians! 
 Indians ! 
 
 Captain Bonneville immediately struck into a skirt of wood 
 and prepared for action. The savages were now seen trooping 
 over the hills in great numbers. One of them left the main 
 body and came forward singly, making signals of peace. He 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 71 
 
 announced them as a band of Nez Perces,* or Pierced-nose In- 
 dians, friendly to the whites, whereupon an invitation was re- 
 turned by Captain Bonneville for them to come and encamp 
 with him. They halted for a short time to make their toilet, an 
 operation as important with an Indian warrior as with a fash- 
 ionable beauty. This done they arranged themselves in 
 martial style, the chiefs leading the van, the braves following 
 in a long line, painted and decorated, and topped off with flut- 
 tering plumes. In this way they advanced, shouting and 
 singing, firing off their fusees, and clashing their shields. The 
 two parties encamped hard by each other. The Nez Perces 
 were on a hunting expedition, but had been almost famished 
 on their march. They had no provisions left but a few dried 
 salmon; yet, finding the white men equally in want they 
 generously offered to share even this meagre pittance, and 
 frequently repeated the offer with an earnestness that left no 
 doubt of their sincerity. Their generosity won the heart of 
 Captain Bonneville, and produced the most cordial good-will 
 on the part of his men. For two days that the parties 
 remained in company, the most amicable intercourse pre- 
 vailed, and they parted the best of friends. Captain Bonne- 
 ville detached a few men under Mr. Cerre, an able leader,, to 
 accompany the Nez Perces on their hunting expedition, and to 
 trade with them for meat for the winter’s supply. After this, 
 he proceeded down the river about five miles below the forks, 
 when he came to a halt on the 26 th of September^ to establish 
 his winter quarters. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 HORSES TURNED LOOSE— PREPARATIONS FOR WINTER QUARTERS 
 —HUNGRY TIMES — NEZ PERCES, THEIR HONESTY, PIETY, 
 PACIFIC HABITS, RELIGIOUS CEREMONIES— CAPTAIN BONNE- 
 VILLE’S CONVERSATIONS WITH THEM— THEIR LOVE OF GAM- 
 BLING. 
 
 It was gratifying to Captain Bonneville, after so long and 
 toilsome a course of travel, to relieve his poor jaded horses of 
 
 * We should observe that this tribe is universally called by its French 
 name, which is pronounced by the trappers, Nepercy. There are two main 
 branches of this tribe, the upper Nepercys and the lower Nepercys, as we 
 shall show hereafter. 
 
72 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 the burdens under which they were almost ready to give out, 
 and to behold them rolling upon the grass, and taking a long 
 repose after all their sufferings. Indeed, so exhausted were 
 they, that those employed under the saddle were no longer 
 capable of hunting for the daily subsistence of the camp. 
 
 All hands now set to work to prepare a winter cantonment. 
 A temporary fortification was thrown up for the protection of 
 the party ; a secure and comfortable pen, into which the horses 
 could be driven at night ; and huts were built for the reception 
 of the merchandise. 
 
 This done. Captain Bonneville made a distribution of his 
 forces ; twenty men were to remain with him in garrison to 
 protect the property ; the rest were organized into three bri- 
 gades, and sent off in different directions, to subsist them- 
 selves by hunting the buffalo, until the snow should become 
 too deep. 
 
 Indeed, it would have been impossible to provide for the 
 whole party in this neighborhood. It was at the extreme wes- 
 tern limit of the buffalo range, and these animals had recently 
 been completely hunted out of the neighborhood by the Nez 
 Perces, so that, that, although the hunters of the garrison were 
 continually on the alert, ranging the country round, they 
 brought in scarce game sufficient to keep famine from the 
 door. Now and then there was a scanty meal of fish or wild- 
 fowl, occasionally an antelope ; but frequently the cravings of 
 hunger had to be appeased with roots, or the flesh of wolves 
 and musk-rats. Earely could the inmates of the cantonment 
 boast of having made a full meal, and never of having where- 
 withal for the morrow. In this way they starved along until 
 the 8th of October, when they were joined by a party of five 
 families of Nez Perces, who in some measure reconciled them 
 to the hardships of their situation, by exhibiting a lot still more 
 destitute. A more forlorn set they had never encountered; 
 they had not a morsel of meat or fish ; nor anything to subsist 
 on, excepting roots, wild rosebuds, the barks of certain plants, 
 and other vegetable productions ; neither had they any weapon 
 for hunting or defense, excepting an old spear. Yet the poor 
 feUows made no murmur nor complaint; but seemed accus- 
 tomed to their hard fare. If they could not teach the white 
 men their practical stoicism, they at least made them ac- 
 quainted with the edible properties of roots and wild rosebuds, 
 and furnished them a supply from their own store. The 
 necessities of the camp at length became so urgent that Cap* 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 73 
 
 tain Bonneville determined to dispatch a party to the Horse 
 Prairie, a plain to the north of his cantonment, to procure a 
 supply of provisions. When the men were about to depart, he 
 proposed to the Nez Perces that they, or some of them, should 
 join the hunting party. To his surprise they promptly de- 
 clined. He inquired the reason for their refusal, seeing that 
 they were in nearly as starving situation as his own people. 
 They replied that it was a sacred day with them, and the Great 
 Spirit would be angry should they devote it to hunting. They 
 offered, however, to accompany the party if it would delay its 
 departure until the following day; but this the pinching de- 
 mands of hunger would not permit, and the detachment pro- 
 ceeded. A few days afterward, four of them signified to 
 Captain Bonneville that they were about to hunt. “What!” 
 exclaimed he, “without guns or arrows; and with only one 
 old spear? What do you expect to kill?” They smiled among 
 themselves, but made no answer. Preparatory to the chase, 
 they performed some religious rites, and offered up to the 
 Great Spirit a few short prayers for safety and success ; then, 
 having received the blessings of their wives, they leaped upon 
 their horses and departed, leaving the whole party of Chris- 
 tian spectators amazed and rebuked by this lesson of faith and 
 dependence on a supreme and benevolent Being. “Accus- 
 tomed,” adds Captain Bonneville, “ as I had heretofore been, 
 to find the wretched Indian revelling in blood and stained by 
 every vice which can degrade human nature, I could scarcely 
 realize the scene which I had witnessed. Wonder at such un- 
 affected tenderness and piety, where it was least to have been 
 sought, contended in all our bosoms with shame and confusion, 
 at receiving such pure and wholesome instructions from crea- 
 tures so far below us in the arts and comforts of fife.” The 
 simple prayers of the poor Indians were not unheard. In the 
 course of four or five days they returned, laden with meat. 
 Captain Bonneville was curious to know how they had 
 attained such success with such scanty means. They gave him 
 to understand that they had chased the herds of buffalo at full 
 speed, until they tired them down, when they easily dispatched 
 them with the spear, and made use of the same weapon to flay 
 the carcasses. To carry through their lessons to their Chris- 
 tian friends, the poor savages were as charitable as they had 
 been pious, and generously shared with them the spoils of them 
 hunting; giving them food enough to last for several days. 
 
 A further and more intimate intercourse with this tribe gave 
 
74 
 
 ajjve:ntures of captain Bonneville. 
 
 Captain Bonneville still greater cause to admire their strong 
 devotional feeling. “Simply to call these people religious,” 
 says he, “would convey but a faint idea of the deep hue of 
 piety and devotion which pervades their whole conduct. Their 
 honesty is immaculate, and their purity of purpose, and their 
 observance of the rites of their religion, are most uniform and 
 remarkable. They are, certainly more like a nation of saints 
 than a horde of savages.” 
 
 In fact, the antibelligerent policy of this tribe may have 
 sprung from the doctrines of Christian charity, for it would 
 appear that they had imbibed some notions of the Christian 
 faith from Catholic missionaries and traders who had been 
 among them. They even had a rude calendar of the fasts and 
 festivals of the Eomish Church, and some traces of its cere- 
 monials. These have become blended with their own wild 
 rites, and present a strange medley ; civilized and barbarous* 
 On the Sabbath, men, women, and children array themselves 
 in their best style, and assemble round a pole erected at the 
 head of the camp. Here they go through a wild fantastic 
 ceremonial; strongly resembling the religious dance of the 
 Shaking Quakers ; but from its enthusiasm, much more strik- 
 ing and impressive. During the intervals of the ceremony, 
 the principal chiefs, who officiate as priests, instruct them in 
 their duties, and exhort them to virtue and good deeds. 
 
 “ There is something antique and patriarchal,” observes Cap- 
 tain Bonneville, “in this union of the offices of leader and 
 priest ; as there is in many of their customs and manners, 
 which are all strongly imbued with religion.” 
 
 The worthy captain, indeed, appears to have been strongly 
 interested by this gleam of unlooked-for light amid the dark- 
 ness of the wilderness. He exerted himself, during his sojourn 
 among this simple and well-disposed people, to inculcate, as far 
 as he was able, the gentle and humanizing precepts of tlic 
 Christian faith, and to make them acquainted with the lead- 
 ing points of its history ; and it speaks highly for the purity 
 and benignity of his heart, that he derived unmixed happiness 
 from the task. 
 
 “Many a time,” says he, “was my little lodge thronged, or 
 rather piled with hearers, for they lay on the ground, one lean- 
 ing over the other, until there was no further room, all listening 
 with greedy ears to the wonders which the Great Spirit had 
 revealed to the white man. No other subject gave them half 
 the satisfaction, or commanded half the attention; and but 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 75 
 
 few scenes in my life remain so freshly on my memory, or are 
 so pleasurably recalled to my contemplation, as these hours of 
 intercourse with a dista.nt and benighted race in the midst of 
 the desert.” 
 
 The only excesses indulged in by this temperate and exem- 
 plary people, appear to be gambling and horseracing. In these 
 they engage with an eagerness that amounts to infatuation. 
 Knots of gamblers will assemble before one of their lodge fires, 
 early in the evening, and remain absorbed in the chances and 
 changes of the game until long after dawn of the following 
 day. As the night advances, they wax warmer and warmer. 
 Bets increase in amount, one loss only serves to lead to a greater, 
 until in the course of a single night’s gambling, the richest 
 chief may become the poorest varlet in the camp. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BLACKFEET IN THE HORSE PRAIRIE— SEARCH AFTER THE HUNT- 
 ERS— DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS— A CARD PARTY IN THE WIL- 
 DERNESS— THE CARD PARTY INTERRUPTED— OLD SLEDGE” A 
 LOSING GAME— VISITORS TO THE CAMP— IROQUOIS HUNTERS— 
 HANGING-EARED INDIANS. 
 
 On the 12th of October, two young Indians of the Nez Perce 
 tribe arrived at Captain Bonneville’s encampment. They were 
 on their way homeward, but had been obliged to swerve from 
 their ordinary route through the mountains, by deep snows. 
 Their new route took them through the Horse Prairie. In 
 traversing it, they had been attracted by the distant smoke of 
 a camp fire, and on stealing near to reconnoitre, had discovered 
 a war party of Blackfeet. They had sev< 2 ^’al horses with them ; 
 and, as they generally go on foot on warlike excursions, it was 
 concluded that these horses had been captured in the course of 
 their maraudings. 
 
 This intelligence awakened solicitude on the mind of Captain 
 Bonneville for the party of hunters whom he had sent to that 
 neighborhood; and the Nez Perzes, when informed of the cir- 
 cmnstance, shook their heads, and declared their belief that 
 the horses they had seen had been stolen from that very party. 
 
 Anxious for information on the subject, Captain Bonne- 
 ville dispatched two hunters to beat up the country in that 
 
76 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 direction. They searched in vain; not a trace of the men 
 could be found ; hut they got into a region destitute of game, 
 where they were well-nigh famished. At one time they were 
 three entire days without a mouthful of food ; at length they 
 beheld a buffalo grazing at the foot of the mountain. After 
 manoeuvring so as to get within shot, they fired, but merely 
 Vv^ounded him. He took to flight, and they followed him over 
 hill and dale, with the eagerness and perseverance of starving 
 men. A more lucky shot brought him to the ground. Stan- 
 field sprang upon him, plunged his knife into his throat, and 
 allayed his raging hunger by drinking his blood. A fire was 
 instantly kindled beside the carcass, when the two hunters 
 cooked, and ate again and again, until, perfectly gorged, they 
 sank to sleep before their hunting fire. On the following 
 morning they rose early, made another hearty meal, then 
 loading themselves with buffalo meat, set out on their return 
 to the camp, to report the fruitlessness of their mission. 
 
 At length, after six weeks’ absence, the hunters made their 
 appearance, and were received with joy proportioned to the 
 anxiety that had been felt on their account. They had hunted 
 with success on the prairie, but, while busy drying buffalo 
 meat, were joined by a few panic-stricken Flatheads, who 
 informed them that a powerful band of Blackfeet were at 
 hand. The hunters immediately abandoned the dangerous 
 hunting ground, and accompanied the Flatheads to their 
 village. Here they found Mr. Cerre, and the detachment of 
 hunters sent wifch him to accompany the hunting party of the 
 Nez Perces. 
 
 After remaining some time at the village, until they sup- 
 posed the Blackfeet to have left the neighborhood, they set off 
 with some of Mr. Cerre’s men for the cantonment at Salmon 
 Biver, where they arrived without accident. Tney informed 
 Captain Bonneville, however, that not far from his quarters 
 they had found a wallet of fresh meat and a cord, which the.^^ 
 supposed had been left by some prowling Blackfeet. A fe\f 
 days afterward Mr. Cerre, with the remainder of his men. 
 likewise arrived at the cantonment. 
 
 Mr. Walker, one of his subleaders, who had gone with a 
 band of twenty hunters to range the country just beyood the 
 Horse Prairie, had likewise his share of adventures with the 
 all-pervading Blackfeet. At one of his encampments the 
 guard stationed to keep watch round the camp grew weary ol 
 their duty, and feeling a little too secure, and too much at 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 77 
 
 home on these prairies, retired to a small grove of willows to 
 amuse themselves with a social game of cards called ‘‘old 
 sledge,” which is as popular among these trampers of the 
 prairies as whist or ecarte among the polite circles of the 
 cities. From the midst of their sport they were suddenly 
 roused by a discharge of firearms and a shrill war-whoop. 
 Starting on their feet, and snatching up their rifles, they 
 beheld in dismay their horses and mules already in possession 
 of the enemy, who had stolen upon the camp unperceived, 
 while they were spell-bound by the magic of old sledge. The 
 Indians sprang upon the animals barebacked, and endeavored 
 to urge them off under a galling fire that did some execution. 
 The mules, however, confounded by the hurly-burly and dis- 
 liking their new riders kicked up their heels and dismounted 
 half of them, in spite of their horsemanship. This threw the 
 rest into confusion ; they endeavored to protect their unhorsed 
 comrades from the furious assaults of the whites ; but, after a 
 scene of “confusion worse confounded,” horses and mules 
 were abandoned, and the Indians betook themselves to the 
 bushes. Here they quickly scratched holes in the earth about 
 two feet deep, in which they prostrated themselves, and while 
 thus screened from the shots of the ^^hite men, were enabled 
 to make such use of their bows and arrows and fusees, as to 
 repulse their assailants ' and to effect their retreat. This 
 adventure threw a temporary stigma upon the game of ‘ ‘ old 
 sledge.” 
 
 In the course of the autumn, four Iroquois hunters, driven 
 by the snow from their hunting grounds, made their appear- 
 ance at the cantonment. They were kindly welcomed, and 
 during their sojourn made themselves useful in a variety of 
 ways, being excellent trappers and first-rate woodsmen. They 
 were of the remnants of a party of Iroquois hunters that came 
 from Canada into these mountain regions many years previ- 
 ously, in the employ of the Hudson’s Bay Company. They 
 were led by a brave chieftain, named Pierre, who fell by the 
 hands of the Blackfeet, and gave his name to the fated valley 
 of Pierre’s Hole. This branch of the Iroquois tribe has ever 
 since remained among these mountains, at mortal enmity 
 with the Blackfeet, and have lost many of their prime hunters 
 in their feuds with that ferocious race. Some of them fell in 
 with General Ashley, in the course of one of his gallant excur- 
 sions into the wilderness, and have continued ever since in the 
 employ of the company. 
 
78 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 Among the motley visitors to the winter quarters of Captain 
 Bonneville was a party of Pends Oreilles (or Hanging-ears) 
 and their chief. These Indians have a strong res^blance, in 
 character and customs, to the Nez Perces. They amount to 
 about three hundred lodges, are well armed, and possess great 
 numbers of horses. During the spring, summer, and autumn, 
 they hunt the buffalo about the head- waters of the Missouri, 
 Henry’s Fork of the Snake River, and the northern branches 
 of Salmon River. Their winter quarters are upon the Racine 
 Amere, where they subsist upon roots and dried buffalo meat. 
 Upon this river the Hudson’s Bay Company have established 
 a trading post, where the Pends Oreilles and the Flatheads 
 bring their peltries to exchange for arms, clothing, and 
 trinkets. 
 
 This tribe, like the Nez Perez, evince strong and peculiar 
 feelings of natural piety. Their rehgion is not a mere 
 superstitious fear, like that of most savages ; they evince ab- 
 stract notions of morality ; a deep reverence for an overruling 
 spirit, and a respect for the rights of their fellowmen. In one 
 respect their religion partakes of the pacific doctrines of the 
 Quakers. They hold that the Great Spirit is displeased with 
 all nations who wantonly engage in war; they abstain, there- 
 fore, from all aggressive hostilities. But though thus un- 
 offending in their policy, they are called upon continually to 
 wage defensive warfare ; especially with the Blackfeet ; with 
 whom, in the course of their hunting expeditions, they come 
 in frequent collision and have desperate battles. Their con- 
 duct as warriors is without fear or reproach, and they can 
 never be driven to abandon their hunting grounds. 
 
 Like most savages they are firm believers in dreams, and in 
 the power and efficacy of charms and amulets, or medicines as 
 they term them. Some of their braves, also, who have had 
 numerous hairbreadth ’scapes, like the old Nez Perce chief in 
 the battle of Pierre’s Hole, are believed to wear a charmed 
 life, and to be bullet-proof. Of these gifted beings marvellous 
 anecdotes are related, which are most potently believed by 
 their fellow savages, and sometimes almost credited by the 
 white hunters. 
 
ADVEJSTUUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 79 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 RIVAL TRAPPING PARTIES— MANCEUVRING — A DESPERATE GAME— 
 VANDERBURGH AND THE BLACKFEET— DESERTED CAMP FIRE— 
 A DARK DEFILE — AN INDIAN AMBUSH— A FIERCE MELEE— FATAL 
 CONSEQUENCES — FITZPATRICK AND BRIDGER — TRAPPERS’ PRE- 
 CAUTIONS— MEETING WITH THE BLACKFEET— MORE FIGHTING- 
 ANECDOTE OF A YOUNG MEXICAN AND AN INDIAN GIRL. 
 
 While Captain BonneviUe and his men are sojourning 
 among the Nez Perces, on Salmon River, we will inquire after 
 the fortunes of '^hose doughty rivals of the Rocky Mountains 
 and American /fur Companies, who started off for the trap- 
 ping grounds to the north-northwest. 
 
 Fitzpatrick and Bridger, of the former company, as we have 
 already shown, having received their supplies, had taken the 
 lead, and hoped to have the first sweep of the hunting grounds. 
 Vanderburgh and Dripps, however, the two resident partners 
 of the opposite company, by extraordinary exertions were en- 
 abled soon to put themselves upon their traces, and pressed 
 iiorward with such speed as to overtake them just as they had 
 reached the heart of the beaver country. In fact, being ignor 
 ant of the best trapping grounds, it was their object to follow 
 on, and profit by the superior knowledge of the other party. 
 
 Nothing could equal the chagrin of Fitzpatrick and Bridger 
 at being dogged by their inexperienced rivals, especially after 
 their offer to divide the country with them. They tried in 
 every way to blind and baffle them ; to steal a march upon 
 them, or lead them on a wrong scent; but all in vain. Van- 
 derburgh made up by activity and intelligence for his ignor- 
 ance of the country; was always wary, always on the alert; 
 discovered every movement of his rivals, however secret, and 
 was not to be eluded or misled. 
 
 Fitzpatrick and his colleague now lost all patience; since 
 the others persisted in following them, they determined to give 
 them an unprofitable chase, and to sacrifice the hunting season 
 rather than share the products with their rivals. They ac- 
 cordingly took up their line of march down the course of the 
 Missouri, keeping the main Blackfoot trail, and tramping dog- 
 
80 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 gedly forward, without stopping to set a single trap. The 
 others beat the hoof after them for some time, but by degrees 
 began to perceive that they were on a wild-goose chase, and 
 getting into a country perfectly barren to the trapper. They 
 now came to a halt, and bethought themselves how to make 
 up for lost time, and improve the remainder of the season. It 
 was thought best to divide their forces and try different trap- 
 ping grounds. While Dripps went in one direction, Vander- 
 burgh, with about fifty men, proceeded in another. The latter, 
 in his headlong march had got into the very heart of the Black- 
 foot country, yet seems to have been unconscious of his danger. 
 As his scouts were out one day, they came upon the traces of 
 a recent band of savages. . Tliere were the deserted fires still 
 smoking, surrounded by the carcasses of buffaloes just killed. 
 It was evident a party of Blackfeet had been frightened from 
 their hunting camp, and had retreated, probably to seek rein- 
 forcements. The scouts hastened back to the camp, and told 
 Vanderburgh what they had seen. He made light of the 
 alarm, and, taking nine men with him, galloped off to recon- 
 noitre for himself. He found the deserted hunting camp just 
 as they had represented it ; there lay the carcasses of buffaloes, 
 partly dismembered; there were the smouldering fires, still 
 sending up their wreaths of smoke ; everything bore traces of 
 recent and hasty retreat ; and gave reason to believe that the 
 savages were still lurking in the neighborhood. With heed- 
 less daring, Vanderburgh put himself upon their trail, to trace 
 them to their place of concealment. It led him over prairies, 
 and through skirts of woodland, until it entered a dark and 
 dangerous ravine. Vanderburgh pushed in, without hesita- 
 tion, followed by his little band. They soon found themselves 
 in a gloomy dell, between steep banks overhung with trees, 
 where the profound silence was only broken by the tramp ol 
 their own horses. 
 
 Suddenly the horrid war-whoop burst on their ears, mingled 
 with the sharp report of rifles, and a legion of savages sprang 
 from their concealments, yelling, and shaking their buffalo 
 robes to frighten the horses. Vanderburgh’s horse fell, mor- 
 tally wounded by the first discharge. In his fall he pinned his 
 rider to the ground, who called in vain upon his men to assist 
 in extricating him. One was shot down scalped a few paces 
 distant ; most of the others were severely wounded, and sought 
 their safety in flight. The savages approached to dispatch 
 the unfortunate leader, as he lay struggling beneath his horse. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 81 
 
 He had still his rifle in his hand and his pistols in his belt. 
 The first savage that advanced received the contents of the 
 rifle in his breast, and fell dead upon the spot; but before Van- 
 derburgh could draw a pistol, a blow from a tomahawk laid 
 him prostrate, and he was dispatched by repeated wounds. 
 
 Such was the fate of Major Henry Vanderburgh, one of the 
 best and worthiest leaders of the American Fur Company, 
 who by his manly bearing and dauntless courage is said to 
 have made himself universally popular among the bold-hearted 
 rovers of the wilderness. 
 
 Those of the little band who escaped fled in consternation to 
 the camp, and spread direful reports of the force and ferocity 
 of the enemy. The party, being without a head, were in com- 
 plete confusion and dismay, and made a precipitate retreat, 
 without attempting to recover the remains of their butchered 
 leader. They made no halt until they reached the encamp- 
 ment of the Pends Oreilles, or Hanging-ears, where they of- 
 fered a reward for the recovery of the body, but without suc- 
 cess ; it never could be found. 
 
 In the meantime Fitzpatrick and Bridger, of the Eocky 
 Mountain Company, fared but little better than their rivals. 
 In their eagerness to mislead them they betrayed themselves 
 into danger, and got into a region infested with the Blackfeet. 
 They soon found that foes were on the watch for them ; but 
 they were experienced in Indian warfare, and not to be sur- 
 prised at night, nor drawn into an ambush in the daytime. 
 As the evening advanced, the horses were all brought in and 
 picketed, and a guard was stationed round the camp. At the 
 earliest streak of day one of the leaders would mount his 
 horse, and gallop off full speed for about half a mile; then 
 look round for Indian trails, to ascertain whether there had 
 been any lurkers round the camp ; returning slowly, he would 
 reconnoitre every ravine and thicket where there might be an 
 ambush. This done, he would gallop off in an opposite direc- 
 tion and repeat the same scrutiny. Finding all things safe, 
 the horses would be turned loose to graze, but always under 
 the eye of a guard. 
 
 A caution equally vigilant was observed in the march, on 
 approaching any defile or place where an enemy might lie in 
 wait ; and scouts were always kept in the advance, or along 
 the ridges and rising grounds on the flanks. 
 
 At length, one day, a large band of Blackfeet appeared in 
 the open field, but in the vicinity of rocks and cliffs, They 
 
82 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 kept at a wary distance, but made friendly signs. The trap 
 pers replied in the same way, but likewise kept aloof. A 
 small party of Indians now advanced, bearing the pipe of 
 peace ; they were met by an equal number of white men, and 
 they formed a group midway between the two bands, where 
 the pipe was circulated from hand to hand, and smoked with 
 all due ceremony. An instance of natural affection took place 
 at this pacific meeting. Among the free trappers in the Rocky 
 Mountain band was a spirited young Mexican named Loretto, 
 who, in the course of his wanderings, had ransomed a beauti- 
 ful Blackfoot girl from a band of Crows by whom she had 
 been captured. He made her his wife, after the Indian style, 
 and she had followed his fortunes ever since, with the most 
 devoted affection. 
 
 Among the Blackfeet warriors who advanced with the calu- 
 met of peace she recognized a brother. Leaving her infant 
 with Loretto she rushed forward and threw herself upon her 
 brother’s neck, who clasped his long-lost sister to his heart 
 with a warmth of - affection but little compatible with the 
 reputed stoicism of the savage. 
 
 While this scene was taking place, Bridger left the main body 
 of trappers and rode slowly toward the group of smokers, with 
 his rifie resting across the pommel of his saddle. The chief of 
 the Blackfeet stepped forward to meet him. From some un- 
 fortunate feeling of distrust Bridger cocked his rifie just as the 
 chief was extending his hand in friendship. The quick ear of 
 the savage caught the click of the lock; in a twinkling he 
 grasped the barrel, forced the muzzle downward, and the 
 contents were discharged into the earth at his feet. His next 
 movement was to wrest the weapon from the hand of Bridger 
 and fell him with it to the earth. He might have found this 
 no easy task had not the unfortunate leader received two 
 arrows in his back during the struggle. 
 
 The chief now sprang into the vacant saddle and galloped off 
 to his band. A wild hurry -skurry scene ensued ; each party 
 took to the banks, the rocks and trees, to gain favorable posi- 
 tions, and an irregular firing was kept up on either side, with- 
 out much effect. The Indian girl had been hurried off by 
 her people at the outbreak of the affray. She would have 
 returned, through the dangers of the fight, to her husband and 
 her child, but was prevented by her brother. The young 
 Mexican saw her stmggles and her agony, and heard her 
 piercing cries. With a generous impulse he caught up thQ 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 83 
 
 child in his arms, rushed forward, regardless of Indian shaft 
 or rifle, and placed it in safety upon her bosom. Even the 
 savage heart of the Blackfoot chief was reached by this noble 
 deed. He pronounced Loretto a madman for his temerity, but 
 bade him depart in peace. The young Mexican hesitated ; he 
 urged to have his wife restored to him, but her brother inter- 
 fered, and the countenance of the chief grew dark. The girl, 
 he said, belonged to his tribe — she must remain with her peo- 
 ple. Loretto would still have lingered, but his wife implored 
 him to depart, lest his life should be endangered. It was with 
 the greatest reluctance that he returned to his companions. 
 
 The approach of night put an end to the skirmishing fire of 
 the adverse parties, and the savages drew off without renew- 
 ing their hostilities. We cannot but remark that both in this 
 affair and that of Pierre’s Hole the affray commenced by a 
 hostile act on the part of white men at the moment when the 
 Indian warrior was extending the hand of amity. In neither 
 instance, as far as circumstances have been stated to us by 
 different persons, do we see any reason to suspect the savage 
 chiefs of perfidy in their overtures of friendship. They ad- 
 vanced in the confiding way usual among Indians when they 
 bear the pipe of peace, and consider themselves sacred from 
 attack. If we violate the sanctity of this ceremonial, by any 
 hostile movement on our part, it is we who incur the charge of 
 faithlessness ; and we doubt not that in both these instances 
 the white men have been considered by the Blackfeet as the 
 aggressors, and have, in consequence, been held up as men not 
 to be trusted. 
 
 A word to conclude the romantic incident of Loretto and his 
 Indian bride. A few months subsequent to the event just 
 related, the young Mexican settled his accounts with the 
 Eocky Mountain Company, and obtained his discharge. He 
 then left his comrades and set off to rejoin his wife and child 
 among her people ; and we understand that, at the time we are 
 writing these pa.ges, he resides at a trading-house estabhshed 
 of late by the American Fur Company in the Blackfoot coun- 
 try, where he acts as an interpreter, and has his Indian girl 
 with him. 
 
84 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 4 WINTER CAMP IN THE WILDERNESS— MEDLEY OF TRAPPERS, 
 HUNTERS, AND INDIANS— SCARCITY OF GAME— NEW ARRANGE- 
 MENTS IN THE CAMP— DETACHMENTS SENT TO A DISTANCE— 
 CARELESSNESS OF THE INDIANS WHEN ENCAMPED — SICKNESS 
 AMONG THE INDIANS— EXCELLENT CHARACTER OF THE NEZ 
 PERCES— THE CAPTAIN’S EFFORT AS A PACIFICATOR — A NEZ 
 PERCE’S ARGUMENT IN FAVOR OF WAR— ROBBERIES BY THE 
 BLACKFEET— LONG SUFFERING OF THE NEZ PERCES— A HUN- 
 TER’S ELYSIUIM AMONG THE MOUNTAINS— MORE ROBBERIES — 
 THE CAPTAIN PREACHES UP A CRUSADE— THE EFFECT UPON 
 HIS HEARERS. 
 
 For the greater part of the month of November Captain 
 Bonneville remained in his temporary post on Salmon Eiver. 
 He was now in the full enjoyment of his wishes; leading a 
 hunter’s life in the heart of the wilderness, with all its wild 
 populace around him. Beside his own people, motley in char- 
 acter and costume — creole, Kentuckian, Indian, half-breed, 
 hired trapper, and free trapper — he was surrounded by en- 
 campments of Nez Perces and Flatheads, with their droves of 
 horses covering the hills and plains. It was, he declares, a 
 wild and bustling scene. The hunting parties of white men 
 and red men, continually sallying forth and returning; the 
 groups at the various encampments, some cooking, some 
 working, some amusing themselves at different games; the 
 neighing of horses, the braying of asses, the resounding 
 strokes of the axe, the sharp report of the rifle, the whoop, 
 the halloo, and the frequent burst of laughter, all in the midst 
 of a region suddenly roused from perfect silence and loneliness 
 by this transient hunters’ sojourn, realized, he says, the idea 
 of a ‘‘populous solitude.” 
 
 The kind and genial character of the captain had, evidently, 
 its influence on the opposite races thus fortuitously congregated 
 together. The most perfect harmony prevailed between them. 
 The Indians, he says, were friendly in their dispositions, and hon- 
 est to the most scrupulous degree in their intercourse with the 
 white It is true they were somewhat importunate io 
 
ADVENT U urn OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 85 
 
 their curiosity, and apt to be continually in the way, examining 
 everything with keen and prying eye, and watching every 
 movement of the white men. All this, however, was borne 
 with great good-humor by the captain, and through his exam- 
 ple by his men. Indeed, throughout all his transactions he 
 shows himself the friend of the poor Indians, and his conduct 
 toward them is above all praise. 
 
 The Nez Perces, the Flatheads, and the Hanging-ears pride 
 themselves upon the number of their horses, of which they pos- 
 sess more in proportion than any other of the mountain tribes 
 within the buffalo range. Many of the Indian warriors and 
 hunters encamped around Captain Bonneville possess from 
 thirty to forty horses each. Their horses are stout, well-built 
 ponies, of great wind, and capable of enduring the severest 
 hardship and fatigue. The swiftest of them, however, are 
 those obtained from the whites while sufficiently young to be^ 
 come acclimated and inured to the rough service of the moun- 
 tains. 
 
 By degrees the populousness of this encampment began to 
 produce its inconveniences. The immense droves of horses? 
 owned by the Indians consumed the herbage of the surround 
 ing hills ; while to drive them to any distant pasturage, in 2 
 neighborhood abounding with lurking and deadly enemies 
 would be to endanger the loss both of man and beast. Game 
 too, began to grow scarce. It was soon hunted and frightene* 
 out of the vicinity, and though the Indians made a wide cir 
 cuit through the mountains in the hope of driving the buffal< 
 toward the cantonment, their expedition was unsuccessful. I 
 was plain that so large a party could not subsist themselve. 
 there, nor in any one place throughout the winter. Captain 
 Bonneville, therefore, altered his whole arrangements. He de- 
 tached fifty men toward the south to winter upon Snake River, 
 and to trap about its waters in the spring, with orders to rejoin 
 him in the month of July at Horse Creek, in Green River val- 
 ley, which he had fixed upon as the general rendezvous of his 
 company for the ensuing year. 
 
 Of all his late party, he now retained with him merely a 
 small number of free trappers, with whom he intended to so- 
 journ among the Nez Perces and Flatheads, and adopt the 
 Indian mode of moving with the game and grass. Those 
 bands, in effect, shortly afterward broke up their encamp- 
 ments and set off for a less beaten neighborhood. Captain 
 Bonneville remained behind for a few days, that be might se^ 
 
8G ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 cretly prepare caches, in which to deposit everything not re> 
 quired for current use. Tims lightened of all superfluous 
 incmnbrance, he set off on the 20th of November to rejoin his 
 Indian allies. He found them encamped in a secluded part oi 
 the country, at the head of a small stream. Considering them- 
 selves out of all danger in this sequestered spot from their old 
 enemies, the Blackfeet, their encampment manifested the most 
 negligent security. Their lodges were scattered in every direct 
 tion, and their horses covered every hill for a great distance 
 lound, grazing upon the upland bunch grass which grew in 
 great abundance, and though dry, retained its nutritious prop' 
 erties instead of losing them like other grasses in the autumn. 
 
 When the Nez Perces, Flatheads, and Pends Oreilles are en- 
 camped in a dangerous neighborhood, says Captain BonneviUe, 
 the greatest care is taken of their horses, those prime articles 
 of Indian wealth, and objects of Indian depredation. Each 
 warrior has his horse tied by one foot at night to a stake plant- 
 ed before his lodge. Here they remain until broad daylight; 
 by that time the young men of the camp are already ranging 
 over the surrounding hills. Each family then drives its horses 
 to some eligible spot, where they are left to graze unattended. 
 A young Indian repairs occasionally to the pasture to give 
 them water, and to see that all is well. So accustomed are the 
 horses to this management, that they keep together in the pas- 
 ture where they have been left. As the sun sinks behind the 
 hills, they may be seen moving from all points toward the 
 camp, where they surrender themselves to be tied up for the 
 night. Even in situations of danger, the Indians rarely set 
 guards over their camp at night, intrusting that office entirely 
 to their vigilant and well-trained dogs. 
 
 In an encampment, however, of such fancied security as that 
 in which Captain Bonneville found his Indian friends, much 
 of these precautions with, respect to their horses are omitted. 
 They merely drive them, at nightfall, to some sequestered lit- 
 tle dell, and leave them there, at perfect Liberty, until the 
 morning. 
 
 One object of Captain Bonneville in wintering among these 
 Indians was to procure a supply of horses against the spring. 
 They were, however, extremely unwilling to part with any, 
 and it was with great difficulty that he purchased, at the rate 
 of twenty dollars each, a few for the use of some of his free 
 trappers who were on foot and dependent on him for their 
 equipment. 
 
ABVIi^NTUnKS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 87 
 
 In this encampment Captain Bonneville remained from the 
 21st of November to the 9th of December. During this period 
 the thermometer ranged from thirteen to forty-two degrees. 
 There were occasional falls of snow; but it generally melted 
 away almost immediately, and the tender blades of new grass 
 began to shoot up among the old. On the 7th of December, 
 however, the thermometer fell to seven degrees. 
 
 The reader will recollect that, on distributing his forces when 
 in Green Eiver valley. Captain Bonneville had detached a 
 party, headed by a leader of the name of Matthieu, with all the 
 weak and disabled horses, to sojourn about Bear River, meet 
 the Shoshonie bands, and afterward to rejoin him at his winter 
 camp on Salmon River. 
 
 More than sufficient time had elapsed, yet Matthieu failed to 
 make his appearance, and uneasiness began to be felt on his 
 account. Captain Bonneville sent out four men, to range the 
 country through which he would have to pass, and endeavor to 
 get some information concerning him ; for his route lay across 
 the great Snake River plain, which spreads itself out like an 
 Arabian desert, and on which a cavalcade could be descried at 
 a great distance. The scouts soon returned, having proceeded 
 no further than the edge of the plain, pretending that their 
 horses were lame ; but it was evident they had feared to ven- 
 ture, with so small a force, into these exposed and dangerous 
 regions. 
 
 A disease, which Captain Bonneville supposed to be pneu- 
 monia, now appeared among the Indians, carrying off num- 
 bers of them after an illness of three or four days. The 
 worthy captain acted as physician, prescribing profuse sweat- 
 ings and copious bleedings, and uniformly with success, if the 
 patient were subsequently treated with proper care. In extra- 
 ordinary cases, the poor savages called in the aid of their own 
 doctors or conjurors, who officiated with great noise and mum- 
 mery, but with little benefit. Those who. died during this 
 epidemic were buried in graves, after the manner of the 
 whites, but without any regard to the direction of the head. 
 It is a fact worthy of notice that, while this malady made such 
 ravages among the natives, not a single white man had the 
 slightest symptom of it. 
 
 A familiar intercourse of some standing with the Pierced- 
 nose and Flathead Indians had now convinced Captain Bonne- 
 ville of their amicable and inoffensive character ; he began to 
 take a strong interest in them, and conceived the idea of be* 
 
88 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 coming a pacificator, and healing the deadly feud hetw^^en 
 them and the Blackfeet, in which they were so deplorably the 
 sufferers. He proposed the matter to some of the leaders, and 
 urged that they should meet the Blackfeet chiefs in a grand 
 pacific conference, offering to send two of his men to the 
 enemy’s camp with pipe, tobacco and flag of truce, to nego- 
 gotiate the proposed meeting. 
 
 The Nez Perces and Flathead sages upon this held a council 
 of war of two days’ duration, in which there was abundance of 
 hard smoking and long talking, and both eloquence and to- 
 bacco were nearly exhausted. At length they came to a deci- 
 sion to reject the worthy captain’s proposition, and upon 
 pretty substantial grounds, as ^the reader may judge. 
 
 “War,” said the chiefs, “is a bloody business, and full of 
 evil; but it keeps the eyes of the chiefs always open, and 
 makes the limbs of the young men strong and supple. In war, 
 every one is on the alert. If we see a trail we know it must be 
 an enemy ; if the Blackfeet come to us, we know it is for war, 
 and we are ready. Peace, on the other hand, sounds no alarm ; 
 the eyes of the chiefs are closed in sleep, and the young men 
 are sleek and lazy. The horses stray into the mountains ; the 
 women and their little babes go about alone. But the heart of 
 a Blackfoot is a lie, and his tongue is a trap. If he says peace 
 it is to deceive; he comes to us as a brother; he smokes his 
 pipe with us ; but when he sees us weak, and off our guard, he 
 will slay and steal. We will have no such peaces let there be 
 war !” 
 
 With this reasoning Captain Bonne viUe was fain to ac- 
 quiesce; but, since the sagacious Flatheads and their allies 
 were content to remain in a state of warfare, he wished them 
 at least to exercise the boasted vigilance which war was to 
 produce, and to keep their eyes open. He represented to them 
 the impossibility that two such considerable clans could move 
 about the country without leaving trails by which they might 
 be traced. Besides, among the Blackfeet braves were several 
 Nez Perces, who had been taken prisoners in early youth, 
 adopted by their captors, and trained up and imbued with 
 warlike and predatory notions ; these had lost all sympathies 
 with their native tribe, and would be prone to lead the enemy 
 to their secret haunts. He exhorted them, therefore, to keep 
 upon the alert, and never to remit their vigilance while within 
 the range of so crafty and cruel a foe. All these counsels were 
 lost upon his easy and simple-minded hearers. A careless in 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAINT BONNEVILLE. 
 
 89 
 
 difference reigned throughout their encampments, and then 
 horses were permitted to range the hills at night in perfect 
 freedom. Captain Bonneville had his own horses brought in 
 at night, and properly picketed and guarded. The evil he ap- 
 prehended soon took place. In a single night a swoop was 
 made through the neighboring pastures by the Blackfeet, and 
 eighty-six of the finest horses carried off. A whip and a rope 
 were left in a conspicuous situation by the robbers, as a taunt 
 to the simpletons they had unhorsed. 
 
 Long before sunrise the news of this calamity spread like 
 wildfire through the different encampments. Captain Bonne- 
 ville, whose own horses remained safe at their pickets, watched 
 in momentary expectation of an outbreak of warriors, Pierced- 
 nose and Flathead, in furious pursuit of the marauders ; but 
 no such thing — they contented themselves with searching dili- 
 gently over hill and dale, to glean up such horses as had 
 escaped the hands of the marauders, and then resigned them- 
 selves to their loss with the most exemplary quiescence. 
 
 Some, it is true, who were entirely unhorsed, set out on a 
 begging visit to their cousins, as they called them, the Lower 
 Nez Perces, who inhabit the lower country about the Colum- 
 bia, and possess horses in abundance. To these they repair 
 when in difficulty, and seldom fail, by dint of begging and bar- 
 tering, to get themselves once more mounted on horseback. 
 
 Game had now become scarce in the neighborhood of the 
 camp, and it was necessary, according to Indian custom, to 
 move off to a less beaten ground. Captain Bonneville pro- 
 posed the Horse Prairie ; but his Indian friends objected that 
 many of the Nez Perces had gone to visit their cousins, and 
 that the whites were few in number, so that their united force 
 was not sufficient to venture upon the buffalo grounds, which 
 were infested by bands of Blackfeet. 
 
 They now spoke of a place at no great distance, which they 
 represented as a perfect hunter’s elysium. It was on the right 
 branch, or head stream of the river, locked up among cliffs and 
 precipices where there was no danger from roving bands, and 
 where the Blackfeet dare not enter. Here, they said, the elk 
 abounded, and the mountain sheep were to be seen trooping 
 upon the rocks and hills. A little distance beyond it, also, 
 herds of buffalo were to be met with, out of the range of dan- 
 ger. Thither they proposed to move their camp. 
 
 The proposition pleased the captain, who was desirous, 
 through the Indians, of becoming acquainted with ah the 
 
90 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 secret places of the land. Accordingly, on the 9th of Decem- 
 ber, they struck their tents, and moved forward by short 
 stages, as many of the Indians were yet feeble from the late 
 malady. 
 
 Following up the right fork of the river they came to where 
 it entered a deep gorge of the mountains, up which lay the se- 
 cluded region so much valued by the Indians. Captain Bonne- 
 ville halted and encamped for three days before entering the 
 gorge. In the meantime he detached five of his free trappers 
 to scour the hills, and kill as many elk as possible, before the 
 main body should enter, as they would then be soon frightened 
 away by the various Indian hunting parties. 
 
 While thus encamped, they were still liable to the marauds 
 of the Blackfeet, and Captain Bonneville admonished his 
 Indian friends to be upon their guard. The Nez Perces, how- 
 ever, notwithstanding their recent loss, were still careless of 
 their horses ; merely driving them to some secluded spot, and 
 leaving them there for the night, without setting any guard 
 upon them. The consequence was a second swoop, in which 
 forty -one were carried on. This was borne with equal philoso- 
 phy with the first, and no effort was made either to recover 
 the horses, or to take vengeance on the thieves. 
 
 The Nez Perces, however, grew more cautious with respect 
 to their remaining horses, driving them regularly to the camp 
 every evening, and fastening them to pickets. Captain Bonne- 
 ville, however, told them that this was not enough. It was 
 evident they were dogged by a daring and persevering enemy, 
 who was encouraged by past impunity; they should, there- 
 fore, take more than usual precautions, and post a guard at 
 night over their cavalry. They could not, however, be per- 
 suaded to depart from their usual custom. The horse once 
 picketed, the care of the owner was over for the night, and he 
 slept profoundly. None waked in the camp but the gamblers, 
 who, absorbed in their play, were more difficult to be roused 
 to external circumstances than even the sleepers. 
 
 The Blackfeet are bold enemies, and fond of hazardous ex* 
 ploits. The band that were hovering a\)Out the neighborhood, 
 finding that they had such pacific people to deal with, re- 
 doubled their daring. The horses being now picketed before 
 the lodges, a number of Blackfeet scouts penetrated in the 
 early part of the night into the very centre of the camp. Here 
 they Avent about among the lodges as calmly and deliberately as 
 if at home, quietly cutting loose the horses that stood picketed 
 
ABVENTUUKS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 01 
 
 by the lodges of their sleeping owners. One of these prowlers, 
 more adventurous than the rest, approached a fire round which 
 a group of Nez Perces were gambling with the most intense 
 eagerness. Here he stood for some time, muffied up in his 
 robe, peering over the shoulders of the players, watching the 
 changes of their countenances and the fluctuations of the 
 game. So completely engrossed were they, that the presence 
 of this muffled eaves-dropper was unnoticed and, having exe- 
 cuted his bravado, he retired undiscovered. 
 
 Having cut loose as many horses as they could conveniently 
 carry off, the Blackfeet scouts rejoined their comrades, and 
 all remained patiently round the camp. By degrees the 
 horses, finding themselves at hberty, took their route toward 
 their customary grazing ground. As they emerged from the 
 camp they were silently taken possession of, until, having 
 secured about thirty, the Blackfeet sprang on their backs 
 and scampered off. The clatter of hoofs startled the gam- 
 blers from their game. They gave the alarm, which soon 
 roused the sleepers from every lodge. Still all was quiescent ; 
 no marshalling of forces, no saddling of steeds and dashing 
 off in pursuit, no talk of retribution for their repeated out- 
 rages. The patience of Captain Bonneville was at length ex- 
 hausted. He had played the part of a pacificator without 
 success ; he now altered his tone, and resolved, if possible, to 
 rouse their war spirit. 
 
 Accordingly, convoking their chiefs, he inveighed against 
 their craven policy, and urged the necessity of vigorous and 
 retributive measures that would check the confidence and 
 presumption of their enemies, if not inspire them with awe. 
 For this purpose, he advised that a war party should be imme- 
 diately sent off on the trail of the marauders, to follow them, 
 if necessary, into the very heart of the Blackfoot country, and 
 not to leave them until they had taken signal vengeance. Be- 
 side this, he recommended the organization of minor war 
 parties, to make reprisals to the extent of the losses sustained. 
 “Unless you rouse yourselves from your apathy,” said he, 
 “and strike some bold and decisive blow, you will cease to be 
 considered men, or objects of manly warfare. The very 
 squaws and children of the Blackfeet will be set against you, 
 while their warriors reserve themselves for nobler antag- 
 onists.” 
 
 This harangue had evidently a momentary effect upon the 
 pride of the hearers. After a short pause, however, one of thQ 
 
92 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 orators arose. It was bad, he said, to go to war for mere re- 
 venge. The Great Spirit had given them a heart for peace, 
 not for war. They had lost horses, it was true, but they could 
 easily get others from their cousins, the Lower Nez Perces, 
 without incurring any risk ; whereas, in war they should lose 
 men, who were not so readily replaced. As to their late losses, 
 an increased watchfulness v/ould prevent any more misfor- 
 tunes of the kind. He disapproved, therefore, of all hostile 
 measures ; and all the other chiefs concurred in his opinion. 
 
 Captain Bonneville again took up the point. “It is true,” 
 said he, “the Great Spirit has given you a heart to love your 
 friends; but he has also given you an arm to strike your 
 enemies. Unless you do something speedily to put an end to 
 this continual plundering, I must say farewell. As yet I have 
 sustained no loss ; thanks to the precautions which you have 
 slighted ; but my property is too unsafe here ; my turn will 
 come next ; I and my people will share the contempt you are 
 bringing upon yourselves, and will be thought, like you, poor- 
 spirited beings, who may at any time be plundered with im- 
 punity.” 
 
 The conference broke up with some signs of excitement on 
 the part of the Indians. Early the next morning, a party of 
 thirty men set off in pursuit of the foe, and Captain Bonne- 
 ville hoped to hear a good account of the Blackfeet marau- 
 ders. To his disappointment, the war party came lagging 
 back on the following day, leading a few old, sorry, broken- 
 down horses, which the free-booters had not been able to urge 
 to sufficient speed. This effort exhausted the martial spirit, 
 and satisfied the wounded pride of the Nez Perces, and they 
 relapsed into their usual state of passive indifference. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 STORY OF KOSATO, THE RENEGADE BLACKFOOT. 
 
 If the meekness and long-suffering of the Pierced-noses* 
 grieved the spirit of Captain Bonneville, there was another in- 
 dividual in the camp to whom they were still more annoying. 
 This Avas a Blackfoot renegado, named Kosato, a fiery hot- 
 blooded youth who, with a beautiful girl of the same tribe^ 
 
AD VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONLsEVlLLE. 
 
 93 
 
 had taken refuge among the Nez Perces. Though adopted 
 into the tribe, he still retained the warlike spirit of his race, 
 and loathed the peaceful, inoffensive habits of those around 
 him. The hunting of the deer, the elk, and the buffalo, which 
 was the height of their ambition, was too tame to satisfy his 
 wild and restless nature. His heart burned for the foray, the 
 ambush, the skirmish, the scamper, and all the haps and 
 hazards of roving and predatory warfare. 
 
 The recent hoverings of the Blackfeet about the camp, theif 
 nightly prowls and daring and successful marauds, had kept 
 him in a fever and a flutter, like a hawk in a cage who hears 
 his late companions swooping and screaming in wild liberty 
 above him. The attempt of Captain Bonneville to rouse the 
 war spirit of the Nez Perces, and prompt them to retaliation, 
 was ardently seconded by Kosato. For several days he was 
 incessantly devising schemes of vengeance, and endeavoring to 
 set on foot an expedition that should carry dismay and desola- 
 tion into the Blackfeet town. All his art was exerted to touch 
 upon those springs of human action with which he was most 
 familiar. He drew the listening savages round him by his ner- 
 vous eloquence ; taunted them with recitals of past wrongs and 
 insults ; drew glowing pictures of triumphs and trophies within 
 their reach ; recounted tales of daring and romantic enterprise, 
 of secret marchings, covert lurkings, midnight surprisals, sack- 
 ings, burnings, plunderings, scalpings; together with the tri 
 umphant return, and the feasting and rejoicing of the victors. 
 These wild tales were intermingled with the beating of the 
 drum, the yell, the war-whoop and the war-dance, so inspiring 
 to Indian valor. All, however, were lost upon the peaceful 
 spirits of his hearers; not a Nez Perce was to be roused to ven- 
 geance, or stimulated to glorious war. In the bitterness of his 
 heart, the Blackfoot renegado repined at the mishap which had 
 severed him from a race of congenial spirits, and driven him to 
 take refuge among beings so destitute of martial fire. 
 
 The character and conduct of this man attracted the atten- 
 tion of Captain Bonneville, and he was anxious to hear the 
 reason why he had deserted his tribe, and why he looked back 
 upon them with such deadly hostility. Kosato told him his 
 own story briefly : it gives a picture of the deep, strong pas- 
 sions that work in the bosoms of these miscalled stoics. 
 
 “You see my wife,” said he, “ she is good ; she is beautiful — 
 I love her. Yet she has been the cause of all my troubles. 
 She was the wife of my chief. I loved her more than he did; 
 
94 
 
 AD rEJVTmiKS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 and she knew it. We talked together ; we laughed together , we 
 were always seeking each other’s society ; but we were as inno- 
 cent as cliildren. The chief grew jealous, and commanded her 
 to speak with me no more. His heart became hard toward her ; 
 his jealousy grew more furious. He beat her without cause and 
 without mercy ; and threatened to kill her outright if she even 
 looked at me. Do you want traces of his fury ? Look at that scar ! 
 His rage against me was no less persecuting. War parties oc 
 the Crows were hovering round us ; our young men had seen 
 their trail. All hearts were roused for action ; my horses were 
 before my lodge. Suddenly the chief came, took them to his 
 own pickets, and called them his own. What could I do? he 
 was a chief. I durst not speak, but my heart was burning. T 
 joined no longer in the council, the himt, or the war-feast. 
 What had I to do there? an unhorsed, degraded warrior. 1 
 kept by myself, and thought of nothing but these wrongs and 
 outrages. 
 
 I was sitting one evening upon a knoll that overlooked the 
 meadow where the horses were pastured. I saw the horses that 
 were once mine grazing among those of the chief. This mad- 
 dened me, and I sat brooding for a time over the injuries I had 
 suffered, and the cruelties which she I loved had endured for 
 my sake, until my heart swelled and grew sore, and my teeth 
 were clinched. As I looked down upon the meadow I saw the 
 chief walking among his horses. I fastened my eyes upon him 
 as a hawk’s ; my blood boiled ; I drew my breath hard. He went 
 among the willows. In an instant I was on my feet; my hand 
 was on my knife —I flew rather than ran — before he was aware 
 I sprang upon him, and with two blows laid him dead at my 
 feet. I covered liis body with earth, and strewed bushes over 
 the place ; then I hastened to her I loved, told her what I had 
 done, and urged her to fly with me. She only answered mo 
 with tears. I reminded her of the wrongs I had suffered, and 
 of the blows and stripes she had endured from the deceased ; I 
 had done nothing but an act of justice. I again urged her to 
 fly ; but she only wept the more, and bade me go. My heart 
 was heavy, but my eyes were dry. I folded my arms. ‘ ’Tis 
 well,’ said I; ‘ Kosato will go alone to the desert. None will 
 be with him but the wild beasts of the desert. The seekers 
 of blood may follow on his trail. They may come upon him 
 when he sleeps and glut their revenge ; but you will be safe. 
 Kosato will go alone.’ 
 
 turned away. She sprang after me, and strained me in 
 
adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 95 
 
 her arms. ‘ No,’ cried she, ‘ Kosato shall not go alone I Wher 
 ever he goes I will go — he shall never part from me.’ 
 
 “ We hastily took in our hands such things as wo most 
 needed, and stealing quietly from the village, mounted the first 
 horses we encountered. Speeding day and night, Ave soon 
 reached this tribe. They received us with Avelcome, and we 
 have dwelt with them in peace. They are good and kind ; they 
 are honest; but their hearts are the hearts of women.” 
 
 Such was the story of Kosato, as related by him to Captain 
 Bonneville. It is of a kind that often occurs in Indian life ; 
 where love elopements from tribe to tribe are as frequent as 
 among the novel-read heroes and heroines of sentimental 
 civilization, and often give rise to bloody and lasting feuds. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE PARTY ENTERS THE MOUNTAIN GORGE— A WILD FASTNESS 
 AMONG HILLS —MOUNTAIN MUTTON— PEACE AND PLENTY— THE 
 AMOROUS TRAPPER— A PIEBALD WEDDING— A FREE TRAPPER’S 
 WIFE— HER GALA EQUIPMENTS— CHRIST3I AS IN THE WILDER^ 
 NESS. 
 
 On the 19th of December Captain Bonneville and his con- 
 federate Indians raised their camp, and entered the narrow 
 gorge made by the north fork of Salmon River. Up this lay 
 the secure and plenteous hunting region so temptingly described 
 by the Indians. 
 
 Since leaving Green River the plains had invariably been of 
 loose sand or coarse gravel, and the rocky formation of the 
 mountains of primitive limestone. The rivers, in general, 
 were skirted with willows and bitter cotton-wood trees, and 
 the prairies covered with wormwood. In the hollow breast of 
 the mountains Avhich they were now penetrating, the surround- 
 ing heights were clothed with pine; while the declivities of the 
 lower hills afforded abundance of bunch gi’ass for the horses. 
 
 As the Indians had represented, they were now in a natural 
 fastness of the mountains, the ingress and egress of which was 
 by a deep gorge, so narrow, rugged, and difficult as to prevent 
 secret approach or rapid retreat, and to admit of easy defence. 
 The Blackfeet, therefore, refrained from venturing in after the 
 
96 
 
 ABVENTUEEB OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 Nez Perces, awaiting a better chance, when they should once 
 more emerge into the open country. 
 
 Captain Bonneville soon found that the Indians had not ex- 
 aggerated the advantages of this region. Besides the numer- 
 ous gangs of elk, large flocks of the ahsahta or bighorn, the 
 mountain sheep, were to be seen bounding among the preci- 
 pices. These simple animals were easily circumvented and 
 destroyed. A few hunters may surroimd a flock and kill as 
 many as they please. Numbers were daily brought into 
 camp, and the flesh of those which were young and fat was 
 extolled as superior to the flnest mutton. 
 
 Here, then, there was a cessation from toil, from hunger, 
 and alarm. Past ills and dangers were forgotten. The hunt, 
 the game, the song, the story, the rough though good-hu- 
 mored joke, made time pass joyously away, and plenty and 
 security reigned throughout the camp. 
 
 Idleness and ease, it is said, lead to love, and love to matri- 
 mony, in civilized life, and the same process takes place in the 
 wilderness. Filled with good cheer and mountain mutton, 
 one of the free trappers began to repine at the solitude of his 
 lodge, and to experience the force of that great law of nature, 
 ‘‘ it is not meet for man to live alone.” 
 
 After a night of grave cogitation he repaired to Kowsoter, 
 the Pierced-nose chief, and unfolded to him the secret work- 
 ings of his bosom. 
 
 ‘‘ I want,” said he, ‘‘a wife. Give me one from among your 
 tribe. Not a young, giddy-pated girl, that wiU think of noth- 
 ing but flaunting and flnery, but a sober, discreet, hard-work 
 ing squaw ; one that will share my lot without flinching, how- 
 ever hard it may be ; that can take care of my lodge, and be 
 a companion and a helpmate to me in the wilderness.” Kow- 
 soter promised to look round among the females of his tribe, 
 and procure such a one as he desired. Two days were requi- 
 site for the search. At the expiration of these, Kowsoter 
 called at his lodge, and informed him that he would bring 
 his bride to him in the course of the afternoon. He kept his 
 word. At the appointed time he approached, leading the 
 bride, a comely copper-colored dame attired in her Indian 
 flnery. Her father, mother, brothers by the half dozen and 
 cousins by the score, all followed on to grace the ceremony 
 and greet the new and important relative. 
 
 The trapper received his new and numerous family connec- 
 tion with proper solemnity; he placed his bride beside him. 
 
adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 
 
 97 
 
 and, filling the pipe, the great symbol of peace, with his best 
 tobacco, took two or three whiffs, then handed it to the chief 
 who transferred it to the father of the bride, from whom it 
 Was passed on from hand to hand and mouth to mouth of the 
 whole circle of kinsmen round the fire, all maintaining the 
 most profound and becoming silence. 
 
 After several pipes had been filled and emptied in this sol 
 emn ceremonial, the chief addressed the bride, detailing at 
 considerable length the duties of a wife which, among In- 
 dians, are little less onerous than those of the pack-horse; 
 this done, he turned to her friends and congratulated them 
 upon the great alliance she had made. They showed a due 
 sense of their good fortune, especially when the nuptial pres- 
 ents came to be distributed among the chiefs and relatives, 
 amounting to about one hundred and eighty dollars. The 
 company soon retired, and nov/ the worthy trapper found 
 indeed that he had no green girl to deal with; for the know- 
 ing dame at once assumed the style and dignity of a trapper's 
 wife: taking possession of the lodge as her undisputed em- 
 pire, arranging everything according to her own taste and 
 nabitudes, and appearing as much at home and on as easy 
 terms with the trapper as if they had been man and wife for 
 years. 
 
 We have already given a picture of a free trapper and his 
 horse, as furnished by Captain Bonneville : we shall here sub- 
 join, as a companion picture, his description of a free trap- 
 per’s wife, that the reader may have a correct idea of the kind 
 of blessing the worthy hunter in question had invoked to so- 
 lace him in the wilderness. 
 
 “The free trapper, while a bachelor, has no greater pet than 
 his horse ; but the moment he takes a wife (a sort of brevet 
 rank in matrimony occasionally bestowed upon some Indian 
 fair one, like the heroes of ancient chivalry in the open field), 
 he discovers that he has a still more fanciful and capricious 
 animal on which to lavish his expenses. 
 
 “No sooner does an Indian belle experience this promotion, 
 than all her notions at once rise and expand to the dignity of 
 her situation, and the purse of her lover, and his credit into 
 the bargain, are taxed to the utmost to fit her out in becoming 
 style. The wife of a free trapper to be equipped and arrayed 
 like any ordinary and undistinguished squaw? Perish 
 grovelling thought ! In the first place, she must have a horse 
 for her own riding; but no jaded, sorry, earth-spirited hack. 
 
98 
 
 ADVENTUnES OF e AFT AIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 such as is sometimes assigned by an Indian husband for the 
 transportation of his squaw and her pappooses: the wife of a 
 free trapper must have the most beautiful animal she can lay 
 her eyes on. And then, as to his decoration : headstall, breast- 
 bands, saddle and crupper are lavishly embroidered with beads, 
 and hung with thimbles, hawks’ bells, and bunches of ribbons. 
 From each side of the saddle hangs an esquimoot, a sort of 
 pocket, in which she bestows the residue of her trinkets and 
 nick-nacks, which cannot be crowded on the decoration of lier 
 horse or herself. Over this she folds, with great care, a 
 drapery of scarlet and bright-colored calicoes, and now con- 
 siders the caparison of her steed complete. 
 
 “As to her own person, she is even still more extravagant. 
 Her hair, esteemed beautiful in proportion to its length, is 
 e'arefully plaited, and made to faU with seeming negligence 
 over either breast. Her riding hat is stuck full of party-col- 
 ored feathers : her robe, fashioned somewhat after that of the 
 whites, is of red, green, and sometimes gray cloth, but always 
 of the finest texture that can he procured. Her leggins and 
 moccasins are of the most beautiful and expensive workman- 
 ship, and fitted neatly to the foot and ankle, which with the 
 Indian women are generally well formed and delicate. Then 
 as to jewelry: in the v/ay of finger-rings, ear-rings, necklaces, 
 and other female glories, nothing within reach of the trapper’s 
 means is omitted that can tend to impress the beholder with 
 an idea of the lady’s high estate. To finish the whole, she se- 
 lects from among her blankets of various dyes one of some 
 glowing color, and throwing it over her shoulders with a na- 
 tive grace, vaults into the saddle of her gay, prancing steed, 
 and is ready to follow her mountaineer ‘ to the last gasp with 
 love and loyalty.’ ” 
 
 Such is the general picture of the free trapper’s wife, given 
 by Captain Bonneville ; how far it applied in its details to the 
 one in question does not altogether appear, though it would 
 seem from the outset of her connubial career, that she was 
 ready to avail herself of all the pomp and circumstance of her 
 new condition. It is worthy of mention that wherever there 
 are several wives of free trappers in a camp, the keenest rival- 
 ry exists between them, to the sore detriment of their hus- 
 bands’ purses. Their whole time is expended and their inge- 
 nuity tasked by endeavors to eclipse each other in dress and 
 decoration. The jealousies and heart-burnings thus occasioned 
 among these so-styled children of nature are equally intense 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 99 
 
 with those of the rival leaders of style and fashion in the luxu- 
 rious abodes of civilized hfe. 
 
 The genial festival of Christmas, which throughout all Chris- 
 tendom lights up the fireside of home with mirth and jollity, 
 followed hard upon the wedding just described. Though far 
 from kindred and friends, Captain Bonneville and his handful 
 of free trappers were not disposed to suffer the festival to pass 
 unenjoyed ; they were in a region of good cheer, and were dis- 
 posed to be joyous; so it was determined to ‘‘ light up the yule 
 clog,” and celebrate a merry Christmas in the heart of tlie 
 wilderness. 
 
 On Christmas eve, accordingly, they began their rude fetes 
 and rejoicings. In the course of the night the free trappers 
 surrounded the lodge of the Pierced-nose chief and in lieu of 
 Christmas carols, saluted him with txfeu dejoie. 
 
 Kowsoter received it in a truly Christian spirit, and after a 
 speech, in which he expressed his high gratification at the 
 honor done him, invited the whole company to a feast on the 
 following day. His invitation was gladly accepted. A Christ- 
 mas dinner in the wigwam of an Indian chief ! There was nov- 
 elty in the idea. Not one failed to be present. The banquet 
 was served up in primitive style : skins of various kinds, nicely 
 dressed for the occasion, were spread upon the ground ; upon 
 these were heaped up abundance of venison, elk meat, and 
 mountain mutton, with various bitter roots which the Indians 
 Use as condiments. 
 
 After a short prayer, the company all seated themselves 
 cross-legged, in Turkish fashion, to the banquet, which passed 
 ofi with great hilarity. After which various games of strength 
 and agility by both white men and Indians closed the Christ- 
 mas festivities. 
 
100 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A HUNT AFTER HUNTERS— HUNGRY TIMES— A VORACIOUS RE- 
 PAST-WINTRY WEATHER— GODIN’S RIVER— SPLENDID WINTER 
 SCENE ON THE GREAT LAVA PLAIN OF SNAKE RIVER— SEVERE 
 TRAVELLING AND TRAMPING IN THE SNOW— MANOEUVRES OF A 
 SOLITARY INDIAN HORSEMAN — ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER 
 — BANNECK INDIANS — THE HORSE CHIEF — HIS CHARMED LIFE. 
 
 The continued absence of Matthieu and his party had, by this 
 time, caused great imeasiness in the mind of Captain Bonne- 
 ville ; and, finding there was no dependence to be placed upon 
 the perseverance and courage of scouting parties in so perilous 
 a quest, he determined to set out himself on the search, and to 
 keep on until he should ascertain something of the object of 
 his sohcitude. 
 
 Accordingly on the 26th December he left the camp, ac- 
 companied by thirteen stark trappers and hunters, all well 
 mounted and armed for dangerous enterprise. On the follow- 
 ing morning they passed out at the head of the mountain gorge 
 and sallied forth into the open plain. As they confidently ex- 
 pected a brush with the Blackfeet, or some other predatory 
 horde, they moved with great circumspection, and kept vigi- 
 lant watch in their encampments. 
 
 In the course of another day they left the main branch of 
 Salmon River, and proceeded south toward a pass called John 
 Day’s defile. It was severe and arduous travelling. The 
 plains were swept by keen and bitter blasts of wintry wind ; 
 the ground was generally covered with snow, game was scarce, 
 so that hunger generally prevailed in the camp, while the want 
 of pasturage soon began to manifest itself in the declining vigor 
 of the horses. 
 
 The party had scarcely encamped on the afternoon of the 
 28th, when two of the hunters who had sallied forth in quest 
 of game came galloping back in great alarm. While hunting 
 they had perceived a party of savages, evidently manoeuvring 
 to cut them off from the camp ; and nothing had saved them 
 from being entrapped but the speed of their horses. 
 
 These tidings struck dismay into the camp. Captain Bonne- 
 
adventures of captain BONNEVILLE, 101 
 
 ville endeavored to reassure his men by representing the posi- 
 tion of their encampment, and its capability of defence. He 
 then ordered the horses to be driven in and picketed, and 
 threw up a rough breastwork of fallen trunks of trees and the 
 vegetable rubbish of the wilderness. Within this barrier was 
 maintained a vigilant watch throughout the night, which 
 passed away without alarm. At early dawn they scrutinized 
 the surrounding plain, to discover whether any enemies had 
 been lurking about during the night ; not a foot-print, however, 
 was to be discovered in the coarse gravel with which the plaiis 
 was covered. 
 
 Hunger now began to cause more uneasiness than the appro 
 hensions of surrounding enemies. After marching a few mdes 
 they encamped at the foot of a mountain, in hopes of hnding 
 buffalo. It was not until the next day that they discovered a 
 pair of fine bulls on the edge of the plain, among rocKS and ra- 
 vines. Having now been two days and a half without a mouth- 
 ful of food, they took especial care that these animals should 
 not escape them. While some of the surest marksmen ad- 
 vanced cautiously with their rifles into the rough ground, four 
 of the best mounted horsemen took their stations in the plain, 
 to run the bulls down should they only be maimed. 
 
 The buffalo were wounded and set off in headlong flight. 
 The half-famished horses were too weak to overtake them on 
 the frozen ground, but succeeded in driving them on the ice, 
 where they slipped and fell, and were easily dispatched. The 
 hunters loaded themselves with beef for present and future 
 supply, and then returned and encamped at the last night’s 
 fire. Here they passed the remainder of the day, cooking and 
 eating with a voracity proportioned to previous starvation, 
 f orgetting in the hearty revel of the moment the certain dan- 
 gers with which they vrere environed. 
 
 The cravings of hunger being satisfied, they now began to 
 debate about their further progress. The men were much dis- 
 heartened by the hardships they had already endured. Indeed, 
 two who had been in the rear guard, taking advantage of their 
 position, had deserted and returned to the lodges of the Nez 
 Perces. The prospect ahead was enough to stagger the stout- 
 est heart. They were in the dead of winter. As far as the eye 
 could reach the wild landscape was wrapped in snow, which 
 was evidently deepening as they advanced. Over this they 
 would have to toil, with the icy wind blowing in their faces: 
 their horses might give out through want of pasturage, and 
 
102 ADVENT unii:s OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 they themselves must expect intervals of horrible famine hke 
 that they had already experienced. 
 
 With Captain Bonneville, however, perseverance was a mat- 
 ter of pride ; and, having undertaken this enterprise, nothing 
 could turn him back until it was accomplished : though he de- 
 clares that, had he anticipated the difficulties and sufferings 
 which attended it, he should have flinched from the imdertak- 
 ing. 
 
 Onward, therefore, the httle band urged their way, keeping 
 along the course of a stream called John Day’s Creek. The 
 cold was so intense that they had frequently to dismount and 
 travel on foot, lest they should freeze in their saddles. The 
 days which at this season are short enough even in the open 
 prairies, were narrowed to a few hours by the high mountains, 
 which allowed the travellers but a brief enjoyment of the 
 cheering rays of the sun. The snow was generally at least 
 twenty inches in depth, and in many places much more: those 
 who ffismounted had to beat their way with toilsome steps. 
 Eight miles were considered a good day’s journey. The horses 
 were almost famished; for the herbage was covered by the 
 deep snow, so that they had nothing to subsist upon but scanty 
 wisps of the dry bunch grass which peered above the surface, 
 and the small branches and twigs of frozen willows and worm- 
 wood. 
 
 In this way they urged their slow and painful course to the 
 south down John Day’s Creek, until it lost itself in a swamp. 
 Here they encamped upon the ice among stiffened willows, 
 where they were obliged to beat down and clear away the 
 snow to procure pasturage for their horses. 
 
 Hence, they toiled on to Godin Eiver ; so called after an Iro- 
 quois hunter in the service of Sublette, who was murdered 
 there by the Blackfeet. Many of the features of this remote 
 wilderness are thus named after scenes of violence and blood- 
 shed that occurred to the early pioneers. It was an act of 
 filial vengeance on the part of Godin’s son Antoine that, as the 
 reader may recollect, brought on the recent battle at Pierre’s 
 Hole. 
 
 From Godin’s River, Captain Bonneville and his followers 
 came out upon the plain of the Three Butes, so called from 
 three singular and isolated hills that rise from the midst. It 
 is a part of the great desert of Snake River, one of the most re- 
 markable tracts beyond the mountains. Could they have ex- 
 perienced a respite from their sufferings and anxieties, the 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 103 
 
 immense landscape spread out before them was calculated to 
 inspire admiration. Winter has its beauties and glories as 
 well as summer ; and Captain Bonneville had the soul to ap- 
 preciate them. 
 
 Far away, says he, over the vast plains, and up the steep 
 sides of the lofty mountains, the snow lay spread in dazzling 
 whiteness: and whenever the sun emerged in the morning 
 above the giant peaks, or burst forth from among clouds in his 
 mid-day course, mountain and dell, glazed rock and frosted 
 tree, glov/ed and sparkled Avith surpassing lustre. The tall 
 pines seemed sprinkled with a silver dust, and the willows, 
 studded with minute icicles reflecting the prismatic rays, 
 brought to mind the fairy trees conjured up by the cahph’s 
 story-teller to adorn his vale of diamonds. 
 
 The poor Avanderers, however, nearly starved with hunger 
 and cold, Avere in no mood to enjoy the glories of these brilliant 
 scenes; though they stamped pictures, on their memory which 
 have been recalled with delight in more genial situations. 
 
 Encamping at the west Bute, they found a place swept by 
 the winds, so that it was bare of snow, and there Avas abun- 
 dance of bunch grass. Here the horses Avere turned loose to 
 graze throughout the night. Though for once they had ample 
 pasturage, yet the keen Avinds were so intense that, in the 
 morning, a mule was found frozen to death. The trappers gath' 
 ered round and mourned over him as over a cherished friend. 
 They feared their half-famished horses would soon share 
 his fate, for there seemed scarce blood enough left in their 
 veins to Avithstand the freezing cold. To beat the way further 
 through the snow with these enfeebled animals seemed next to 
 impossible ; and despondency began to creep over their hearts, 
 when, fortunately, they discovered a trail made by some hunt- 
 ing party. Into this they immediately entered, and proceeded 
 AAuth less difficulty. Shortly afterward, a fine buffalo bull 
 came bounding across the snow and Avas instantly brought 
 down by the hunters. A fire was soon blazing and crackling, 
 and an ample repast soon cooked, and sooner dispatched ; after 
 which they made some further progress and then encamped. 
 One of the men reached the camp nearly frozen to death ; but 
 good cheer and a blazing fire gradually restored life, and put 
 his blood in circulation. 
 
 Having now a beaten patli, they proceeded the next morning 
 with more facility; indeed, the snow decreased in depth as 
 they receded from the mountains, and the temperature became 
 
104 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 more mild. In the course of the day they discovered a solh 
 tary horseman hovering at a distance before them on the 
 plain. They spurred on to overtake him; but he was better 
 mounted on a fresher steed, and kept at a wary distance, re- 
 connoitring them with evident distrust ; for the wild dress of 
 the free trappers, their leggins, blankets, and cloth caps gar- 
 nished with fur and topped off with feathers, even their very 
 elf-locks and weather-bronzed complexions, gave them the 
 look of Indians rather than white men, and made him mistake 
 them for a war party of some hostile tribe. 
 
 After much manoeuvring, the wild horseman was at length 
 brought to a parley ; but even then he conducted himself with 
 the caution of a knowing prowler of the prairies. Dismount- 
 ing from his horse, and using him as a breastwork, he levelled 
 his gun across his back, and, thus prepared for defence like a 
 wary cruiser upon the high seas, he permitted himself to be 
 approached within speaking distance. 
 
 He proved to be an Indian of the Banneck tribe, belonging 
 to a band at no great distance. It was some time before he 
 could be persuaded that he was conversing with a party of 
 white men, and induced to lay aside his reserve and join them. 
 He then gave them the interesting intelligence that there were 
 two companies of white men encamped in the neighborhood. 
 This was cheering news to Captain Bonneville ; who hoped to 
 find in one of them the long-sought party of Matthieu. Push- 
 ing forward, therefore, with renovated spirits, he reached 
 Snake Eiver by nightfall, and there fixed his encampment. 
 
 Early the next morning (13th January, 1833), diligent search 
 was made about the neighborhood for traces of the reported 
 parties of white men. An encampment was soon discovered 
 about four miles further up the river, in which Captain Bonne- 
 ville to his great joy found two of Matthieu’s men, from whom 
 he learned that the rest of his party would be there in the 
 course of a few days. It was a matter of great pride and self- 
 gratulation to Captain Bonneville that he had thus accom- 
 plished his dreary and doubtful enterprise ; and he determined 
 to pass some time in this encampment, both to await the return 
 of Matthieu, and to give needful repose to men and horses. 
 
 It was, in fact, one of the most eligible and delightful winter- 
 ing grounds in that whole range of country. The Snake River 
 here wound its devious way between low banks through the 
 great plain of the Three Butes ; and was bordered by wide and 
 fertile meadows. It was studded with islands which, like the 
 
ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 105 
 
 alluvial bottoms, were covered with groves of cotton-wood, 
 thickets of willow, tracts of good lowland grass, and abundance 
 of green rushes. The adjacent plains were so vast in extent 
 that no single band of Indians could drive the buffalo out of 
 them ; nor was the snow of sufficient depth to give any serious 
 inconvenience. Indeed, during the sojourn of Captain Bonne- 
 ville in this neighborhood, which was in the heart of winter, 
 lie found the weather, with the exception of a few cold and 
 stormy days, generally mild and pleasant, freezing a little at 
 night but invariably thawing with the morning’s sun — resem- 
 bling the spring weather in the middle parts of the United 
 States. 
 
 The lofty range of the Three Tetons, those great landmarks 
 of the Rocky Mountains rising in the east and circling away to 
 the north and west of the great plain of Snake River, and the 
 mountains of Salt River and Portneuf toward the south, catch 
 the earliest falls of snow. Their white robes lengthen as the 
 winter advances, and spread themselves far into the plain, 
 driving the buffalo in herds to the banks of the river in quest 
 of food ; where they are easily slain in great numbers. 
 
 Such were the palpable advantages of this winter encamp- 
 ment ; added to which, it was secure from the prowlings and 
 plunderings of any petty band of roving Blackfeet, the diffi- 
 culties of retreat rendering it unwise for those crafty depre- 
 dators to venture an attack unless with an overpowering 
 force. 
 
 About ten miles below the encampment lay the Banneck 
 Indians; numbering about one hundred and twenty lodges. 
 They are brave and cunning warriors and deadly foes of the 
 Blackfeet, whom they easily overcome in battles where their 
 forces are equal. They are not vengeful and enterprising in 
 warfare, however; seldom sending war parties to attack the 
 Blackfeet towns, but contenting themselves with defending 
 their own territories and house. About one third of their war- 
 riors are armed with fusees, the rest with bows and arrows. 
 
 As soon as the spring opens they move down the right bank 
 of Snake River and encamp at the heads of the Boisee and 
 Payette. Here their horses wax fat on good pasturage, while 
 the tribe revels in plenty upon the flesh of deer, elk, bear, and 
 beaver. They then descend a little further, and are met by the 
 Lower Nez Perces, with whom they trade for horses ; giving in 
 exchange beaver, buffalo, and buffalo robes. Hence they strike 
 upon the tributary streams on the left bank of Snake River, 
 
106 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 and encamp at the rise of the Portneuf and Blackfoot streams, 
 in the buffalo range. Their horses, although of the Nez Perce 
 breed, are inferior to the parent stock from being ridden at too 
 early an age, being often bought when but two years old and 
 immediately put to hard work. They have fewer horses, also, 
 than most of these migratory tribes. 
 
 At the time that Captain Bonneville came into the neigh- 
 borhood of these Indians, they were all in mourning for their 
 chief, sumamed The Horse. This chief was said to possess a 
 charmed life, or rather, to be invulnerable to lead; no buUet 
 having ever hit him, though he had been in repeated battles, 
 and often shot at by the surest marksmen. He had shown 
 great magnanimity in his intercourse with the white men. 
 One of the great men of his family had been slain in an attack 
 upon a band of trappers passing through the territories of his 
 tribe. Vengeance had been sworn by the Bannecks; but The 
 Horse interfered, declaring himself the friend of white men 
 and, having great influence and authority among his people, he 
 compelled them to forego all vindictive plans and to conduct 
 themselves amicably whenever they came in contact with the 
 traders. 
 
 This chief had bravely fallen in resisting an attack* made by 
 the Blackfeet upon his tribe, while encamped at the head of 
 Godin River. His fall in nowise lessened the faith of his people 
 in his charmed life ; for they declared that it was not a bullet 
 which laid him low, but a bit of horn which had been shot into 
 him by some Blackfoot marksman aware, no doubt, of the in- 
 efflcacy of lead. Since his death there was no one with suffi* 
 ciert influence over the tribe to restrain the wild and predatory 
 propensities of the young men. The consequence was they had 
 become troublesome and dangerous neighbors, openly friendly 
 for the sake of trafiic, but disposed to commit secret depreda- 
 tions and to molest any small party that might fall within 
 their reach. 
 
AVVEMTUEE8 OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MISADVENTURES OP MATTHIEU AND HIS PARTY— RETURN TO THE 
 CACHES AT SALMON RIVER— BATTLE BETWEEN NEZ PERCfcS 
 AND BLACKFEET— HEROISM OP A NEZ PERC^3 WOMAN— EN- 
 ROLLED AMONG THE BRAVES. 
 
 On the 3d of February Matthieu, with the residue of his band, 
 arrived in camp. He had a disastrous story to relate. After 
 parting with Captain Bonneville in Green River valley he had 
 proceeded to the westward, keeping to the north of the Eutaw 
 Mountains, a spur of the great Rocky chain. Here he experu 
 enced the most rugged travelling for his horses, and soon diS' 
 covered that there was but little chance of meeting the Sho- 
 shonie bands. He now proceeded along Bear River, a stream 
 much frequented by trappers, intending to shape his course to 
 Salmon River to rejoin Captain Bonneville. 
 
 He was misled, however, either through the ignorance or 
 treachery of an Indian guide, and conducted into a wild valley 
 where he lay encamped during the autumn and the early part 
 of the winter, nearly buried in snow and almost starved. 
 Early in the season he detached five men, with nine horses, to 
 proceed to the neighborhood of the Sheep Rock, on Bear 
 River, where game was plenty, and there to procure a supply 
 for the camp. They had not proceeded far on their expedition 
 when their trail was discovered by a party of nine or ten In- 
 dians, who immediately commenced a lurking pursuit, dogging 
 them secretly for five or six days. So long as their encamp- 
 ments were well chosen and a proper watch maintained the 
 wary savages kept aloof ; at length, observing that they were 
 badly encamped, in a situation where they might be approached 
 with secrecy, the enemy crept stealthily along under cover of 
 the river bank, preparing to burst suddenly upon their prey. 
 
 They had not advanced within striking distance, however, 
 before they were discovered by one of the trappers. He im- 
 mediately but silently gave the alarm to his companions. 
 They all sprang upon their horses and prepared to retreat to a 
 safe position. One of the party, however, named Jennings, 
 doubted the correctness of the alarm, and before he mounted 
 his horse wanted to ascertain the fact. His companions urered 
 
108 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 him to mount, but in vain; he was incredulous and obstinate. 
 A volley of firearms by the savages dispelled his doubts, but 
 so overpowered his nerves that he was unable to get into his 
 saddle. His comrades, seeing his peril and confusion, gener- 
 ously leaped from their horses to protect him. A shot from a 
 rifle brought him to the earth ; in his agony he called upon the 
 others not to desert him. Two of them, Le Roy and Ross, 
 after fighting desperately, were captured by the savages ; the 
 remaining two vaulted into their saddles and saved themselves 
 by headlong flight, being pursued for nearly thirty miles. 
 They got safe back to Matthieu’s camp, 'where their story in- 
 spired such dread of lurking Indians that the hunters could 
 not be prevailed upon to undertake another foray in quest of 
 provisions. They remained, therefore, almost starving in 
 their camp ; now and then killing an old or disabled horse for 
 food, while the elk and the mountain sheep roamed unmo- 
 lested among the surrounding mountains. 
 
 The disastrous surprisal of this hunting party is cited by 
 Captain Bonneville to show the importance of vigilant watch- 
 ing and judicious encampments in the Indian country. Most 
 of this kind of disasters to traders and trappers arise from 
 some careless inattention to the state of their arms and ammu- 
 nition, the placing of their horses at night, the position of their 
 camping ground, and the posting of their night watches. The 
 Indian is a vigilant and crafty foe, by no means given to hair- 
 brained assaults ; he seldom attacks when he finds his foe well 
 prepared and on the alert. Caution is at least as efficacious a 
 protection against him as courage. 
 
 The Indians who made this attack were at first supposed to 
 be Blackfeet ; until Captain Bonneville found subsequently, in 
 the camp of the Bannecks, a horse, saddle, and bridle, which 
 he recognized as having belonged to one of the hunters. The 
 Bannecks, however, stoutly denied having taken these spoils 
 in fight, and persisted in affirming that the outrage had been 
 perpetrated by a Blackfoot band. 
 
 Captain Bonneville remained on Snake River nearly three 
 weeks after the arrival of Matthieu and his party. At length 
 his horses having recovered strength sufficient for a journey, 
 he prepared to return to the Nez Perces, or rather to visit his 
 caches on Salmon River ; that he might take thence goods and 
 equipments for the opening season. Accordingly, leaving six- 
 teen men at Snake River, he set out on the 19th of February 
 with sixteen others on his journey to the caches. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 109 
 
 Fording the river, he proceeded to the borders of the deep 
 snow, when he encamped under the lee of immense piles of 
 burned rock. On the 21st. he was again floundering through 
 the snow, on the great Snake River plain, whore it lay to the 
 depth of thirty inches. It was sufficiently incrusted to bear a 
 pedestrian, but the poor horses broke through the crust, and 
 plunged and strained at every step. So lacerated v/ere they 
 by the ice that it was necessary to change the front every 
 hundred yards, and put a different one in advance to break 
 the way. The open prairies were swept by a piercing and 
 biting wind from the northwest. At night, they had to task 
 their ingenuity to provide shelter and keep from freezing. In 
 the first place, they dug deep holes in the snow, piling it up in 
 ramparts to windward as a protection against the blast. Be- 
 neath these they spread buffalo skins, upon which they 
 stretched themselves in full dress, with caps, cloaks, and moc- 
 casins, and covered themselves with numerous blankets ; not- 
 withstanding all which they were often severely pinched with 
 the cold. 
 
 On the 28th of February they arrived on the banks of Godin 
 River. This stream emerges from the mountains opposite an 
 eastern branch of the Malade River, running southeast, forms 
 a deep and swift current about twenty yards wide, passing 
 rapidly through a defile to which it gives its name, and then 
 enters the great plain where, after meandering about forty 
 miles, it is finally lost in the region of the Burned Rocks. 
 
 On the banks of this river Captain Bonneville was so fortu- 
 nate as to come upon a buffalo trail. Following it up, he en- 
 tered the defile, where he remained encamped for two days to 
 allow the hunters time to kill and dry a supply of buffalo beef. 
 In this sheltered defile the weather was moderate and grass 
 was already sprouting more than an inch in height. There 
 was abundance, too, of the salt weed which grows most plen- 
 tiful in clayey and gravelly barrens. It resembles pennyroyal, 
 and derives its name from a partial saltness. It is a nourish- 
 ing food for the horses in the winter, but they reject it the 
 moment the young grass affords sufficient pasturage. 
 
 On the 6th of March, having cured sufficient meat, the party 
 resumed their march, and moved on with comparative ease, 
 excepting where they had to make their way through snow- 
 drifts which had been piled up by the wind. 
 
 On the 11th, a small cloud of smoke was observed rising in a 
 deep part of the defile, An encampment was instanth^ formed 
 
ilO ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 and scouts were sent out to reconnoitre. They returned with 
 intelligence that it was a hunting party of Flatheads, return- 
 ing from the buffalo range laden with meat. Captain Bonne- 
 ville joined them the next day, and persuaded them to pro- 
 ceed with his party a few miles below to the caches, whither 
 he proposed also to invite the Nez Perces, whom he hoped to 
 find somewhere in this neigi borhood. In fact, on the 13th, he 
 was rejoined by that friendly tribe who, since he separated 
 from them on Salmon River, had likewise been out to hunt 
 the buffalo, but had continued to be haunted and harassed by 
 their old enemies the Blackfeet, who, as usual, had contrived 
 to carry off many of their horses. 
 
 In the course of this hunting expedition, a small band of ten 
 lodges separated from the main body in search of better pas- 
 turage for their horses. About the 1st of March, the scattered 
 parties of Blackfoot banditti united to the number of three 
 hundred fighting men, and determined upon some signal blow. 
 Proceeding to the former camping ground of the Nez Perces, 
 they found the lodges deserted ; upon which they hid them- 
 selves among the willows and thickets, watching for some 
 straggler who might guide them to the present “ whereabout” 
 of their intended victims. As fortune would have it Kosato, 
 the Blackfoot renegade, was the first to pass along, accom- 
 panied by his blood-bought bride. He was on his way from 
 the main body of hunters to the little band of ten lodges. The 
 Blackfeet knew and marked him as he passed ; he was within 
 bowshot of their ambuscade; yet, much as they thirsted for 
 his blood, they forbore to launch a shaft ; sparing him for the 
 moment that he might lead them to their prey. Secretly fol- 
 lowing his trail, they discovered the lodges of the unfortunate 
 Nez Perces, and assailed them with shouts and yellings. The 
 Nez Perces numbered only twenty men, and but nine were 
 armed with fusees. They showed themselves, however, as 
 brave and skilful in war as they had been mild and long-suf- 
 fering in peace. Their first care was to dig holes inside of 
 their lodges ; thus ensconced they fought desperately, laying 
 several of the enemy dead upon the ground; while they, 
 though some of them were wounded, lost not a single warrior. 
 
 During the heat of the battle, a woman of the Nez Perces, 
 seeing her warrior badly wounded and unable to fight, seized 
 his bow and arrows, and bravely and successfully defended his 
 person, contributing to the safety of the whole party. 
 
 In another part of the field of action, a Nez Perce had 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. \\\ 
 
 crouched behind the trunk of a fallen tree, and kept up a gall- 
 ing fire from his covert. A Blackfoot seeing this, procured a 
 round log, and placing it before him as he lay prostrate, rolled 
 it forward toward the trunk of the tree behind which his enemy 
 lay crouched. It was a moment of breathless interest; who- 
 ever first showed himself would be in danger of a shot. The 
 Nez Perce put an end to the suspense. The moment the logs 
 touched he sprang upon his feet and discharged the contents 
 of his fusee into the back of his antagonist. By this time the 
 Blackfeet had got possession of the horses, several of their war- 
 riors lay dead on the field, and the Nez Perces, ensconced in 
 their lodges, seemed resolved to defend themselves to the last 
 gasp. It so happened that the chief of the Blackfeet party v/as 
 a renegade from the Nez Perces ; unlike Kosato, however, he 
 had no vindictive rage against his native tribe, but was rather 
 disposed, now he had got the booty, to spare all unnecessa-ry 
 effusion of blood. He held a long parley, therefore, with the 
 besieged, and finally drew off his warriors, taking with him 
 seventy horses. It appeared, afterward, that the bullets of the 
 Blackfeet had been entirely expended in the course of the bat- 
 tle, so that they were obliged to make use of stones as substi- 
 tute. 
 
 At the outset of the fight Kosato, the renegade, fought with 
 fury rather than valor, animating the others by word as well 
 as deed. A wound in the head from a rifle ball laid him sense- 
 less on the earth. There his body remained when the battle 
 was over, and the victors were leading off the horses. His wife 
 hung over him with frantic lamentations. The concpierors 
 paused and urged her to leave the lifeless renegade, and return 
 with them to her kindred. She refused to listen to their solici- 
 tations, and they passed on. As she sat watching the features 
 of Kosato, and giving way to passionate grief, she thought she 
 perceived him to breathe. She was not mistaken. The ball, 
 which had been nearly spent before it struck him, had stunned 
 instead of killing him. By the ministry of his faithful wife he 
 gradually recovered, reviving to a redoubled love for her, and 
 hatred of his tribe. 
 
 As to the female who had so bravely defended her husband, 
 she was elevated by the tribe to a rank far above her sex. and 
 beside other honorable distinctions, was thenceforward per- 
 mitted to take a part in the war dances of the braves ! 
 
112 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 OPENING OF THE CACHES— DETACHMENTS OF CERRE AND HODG^ 
 
 KISS— SALMON RIVER MOUNTAINS— SUPERSTITION OF AN INDIAN 
 
 TRAPPER — Godin’s river — preparations for trapping — an 
 
 ALARM — AN INTERRUPTION— A RIVAL BAND —PHENOMENA OF 
 
 SNAKE RIVER PLAIN— VAST CLEFTS AND CHASMS— INGULFED 
 
 STREAMS— SUBLIME SCENERY— A GRAND BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 Captain Bonneville found his caches perfectly secure, and 
 having escretly opened them he selected such articles as were 
 necessary to equip the free trappers and to supply the incon- 
 siderable trade with the Indians, after which he closed them 
 again. The free trappers, being newly rigged out and supplied, 
 were in high spirits, and swaggered gayly about the camp. To 
 compensate all hands for past sufferings, and to give a cheer- 
 ful spur to further operations, Captain Bonneville now gave 
 the men what, in frontier phrase, is termed ‘ ‘ a regular blow 
 out.” It was a day of uncouth gambols and frolics and rude 
 feasting. The Indians joined in the sports and games, and all 
 was mirth and good-fellowship. 
 
 It was now the middle of March, and Captain Bonneville 
 made preparations to open the spring campaign. He had 
 pitched upon Malade River for his main trapping ground for 
 the season. This is a stream which rises among the great bed 
 of mountains north of the Lava Plain, and after a winding 
 course falls into Siiake River. Previous to his departure the 
 captain dispatched Mr. Cerre, with a few men, to visit the 
 Indian villages and purchase horses; he furnished his clerk, 
 Mr. Hodgkiss, also, with a small stock of goods, to keep up a 
 trade with the Indians during the spring, for such peltries as 
 they might collect, appointing the caches on Salmon River as 
 the point of rendezvous, where they were to rejoin him on the 
 15th of June following. 
 
 This done he set out for Malade River, with a band of twenty- 
 eight men composed of hired and free trappers and Indian 
 hunters, together with eight squaws. Their route lay up along 
 the right fork of Salmon River, as it passes through the deep 
 defile of the mountains. They travelled very slowly^ not above 
 five miles a day, for many of the horses were so weak that they 
 
ABVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. H3 
 
 faltered and staggered as they walked. Pasturage, however, 
 was now growing plentiful. There was abundance of fresh 
 grass, which in some places had attained such height as to 
 wave in the wind. The native flocks of the wilderness, the 
 mountain sheep, as they are called by the trappers, were con- 
 tinually to be seen upon the hills between which they passed , 
 and a good supply of mutton was provided by the hunters, as 
 they were advancing toward a region of scarcity. 
 
 In the course of his journey Captain Bonneville had occasion 
 to remark an instance of the many notions, and almost super- 
 stitions, which prevail among the Indians, and among some of 
 the white men, with respect to the sagacity of the beaver. 
 The Indian hunters of his party were in the habit of exploring 
 all the streams along which they passed, in search of “ beaver 
 lodges,” and occasionally set their traps with some success. 
 One of them, however, though an experienced and skilful trap- 
 per, was invariably unsuccessful. Astonished and mortified at 
 such unusual bad luck, he at length conceived the idea that 
 there was some odor about his person of which the beaver got 
 scent and retreated at his approach. He immediately set about 
 a thorough purification. Making a rude sweating-house on the 
 banks of the river, he would shut himself up until in a reeking 
 perspiration, and then suddenly emerging, would plunge into 
 the river. A number of these sweatings and plungings having, 
 as he supposed, rendered his person perfectly “inodorous,” he 
 resumed his trapping with renovated hope. 
 
 About the beginning of April they encamped upon Godin’s 
 Eiver, where they found the swamp full of “ musk-rat houses.” 
 Here, therefore, Captain Bonneville determined to remain a 
 few days and make his first regular attempt at trapping. That 
 his maiden campaign might open with spirit, he promised the 
 Indians and free trappers an extra price for every musk-rat 
 they should take. All now set to woik for the next day’s sport. 
 The utmost animation and gayety prevailed throughout the 
 camp. Everything looked auspicious for their spring campaign. 
 The abundance of musk-rats in the swamp was but an earnest 
 of the nobler game they were to find when they should reach 
 the Malade Eiver, and have a capital beaver country all to 
 themselves, where they might trap at their leisure without 
 molestation. 
 
 In the midst of their gayety a hunter came galloping into 
 the camp, shouting, or rather yelling, “A trail! a trail t 
 lodge poles ! lodge poles !” 
 
114 ADVENT (TEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 These were words full of meaning to a trapper’s ear. They 
 intimated that there was some band in the neighborhood, and 
 probably a hunting party, as they had lodge poles for an en- 
 campment. The hunter came up and told his story. He had 
 discovered a fresh trail, in which the traces made by the drag- 
 ging of lodge poles were distinctly visible. The buffalo, too, 
 had just been driven out of the neighborhood, which showed 
 that the hunters had already been on the range. 
 
 The gayety of the camp was at an end ; all preparations for 
 musk-rat trapping were suspended, and all hands sallied forth 
 to examine the trail. Their worst fears were soon confirmed. 
 Infallible signs showed the unknown party in the advance to be 
 white men ; doubtless, some rival band of trappers ! Here was 
 competition when least expected; and that too by a party 
 already in the advance, who were driving the game before 
 them. Captain Bonneville had now a taste of the sudden tran- 
 sitions to which a trapper’s life is subject. The buoyant confi- 
 dence in an uninterrupted hunt was at an end ; every counte- 
 nance lowered with gloom and disappointment. 
 
 Captain Bonneville immediately dispatched two spies to over- 
 take the rival party, and endeavor to learn their pJans; in the 
 meantime, he turned his back upon the swamp and its musk- 
 rat houses and followed on at ‘ ‘ long camps, ” which in trapper’s 
 language is equivalent to long stages. On the 6th of April he 
 met his spies returning. They had kept on the trail like hounds 
 until they overtook the party at the south end of Godin’s defile. 
 Here they found them comfortably encamped: twenty-two 
 prime trappers, all well appointed, with excellent horses in 
 capital condition led by ]\Iilton Sublette, and an able coadjutor 
 named Jarvie, and in full march for the Malade hunting ground. 
 This was stunning news. The Malade Eiver was the only trap- 
 ping ground within reach ; but to have to compete there with 
 veteran trappers, perfectly at home among the mountains, and 
 admirably mounted, while they were so poorly provided with 
 horses and trappers, and had but one man in their party ac- 
 quainted with the country — it v/as out of the question. 
 
 The only hope that now remained was that the snow, which 
 still lay deep among the mountains of Godin Eiver and blocked 
 up the usual pass to the Malade country, might detain the other 
 party until Captain Bonneville’s horses should get once more 
 into good condition in their present ample pasturage. 
 
 The rival parties now encamped together, not out of com- 
 panionship, but to keep an eye upon each other. Pay after 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, H5 
 
 day passed by without any possibility of getting to the Malade 
 country. Sublette and Jarvie endeavored to force their way 
 across the mountain ; but the snows lay so deep as to oblige 
 them to turn back. In the meantime the captain’s horses were 
 daily gaining strength, and their hoofs improving, which had 
 been worn and battered by mountain service. The captain, 
 also, was increasing his stock of provisions ; so that the delay 
 was all in his favor. 
 
 To any one who merely contemplates a map of the country 
 this difficulty of getting from Godin to Malade Eiver will ap- 
 pear inexplicable, as the intervening mountains terminate in 
 the great Snake Eiver plain, so that, apparently, it would be 
 perfectly easy to proceed round their bases. 
 
 Here, however, occur some of the striking phenomena of 
 this wild and sublime region. The great lower plain which ex- 
 tends to the feet of these mountains is broken up near their 
 bases into crests, and ridges resembling the surges of the ocean 
 breaking on a rocky shore. 
 
 In a line with the mountains the plain is gashed with numer- 
 ous and dangerous chasms, from four to ten feet wide, and of 
 great depth. Captain Bonneville attempted to sound some of 
 these openings, but without any satisfactory result. A stone 
 dropped into one of them reverberated against the sides for 
 apparently a very great depth, and, by its sound, indicated the 
 same kind of substance with the surface, as long as the strokes 
 could be heard. The horse, instinctively sagacious in avoiding 
 danger, shrinks back in alarm from the least of these chasms, 
 pricking up his ears, snorting and pawing, until permitted to 
 turn away. 
 
 We have been told by a person well acquainted with the 
 country that it is sometimes necessary to travel fifty and sixty 
 miles to get round one of these tremendous ravines. Consider- 
 able streams, like that of Godin’s Eiver, that run with a bold, 
 free current, lose themselves in this plain ; some of them end 
 in swamps, others suddenly disappear, finding, no doubt, sub- 
 terranean outlets. 
 
 Opposite to these chasms Snake Eiver makes two desperate 
 leaps over precipices, at a short distance from each other; one 
 twenty, the other forty feet in height. 
 
 The volcanic plain in question forms an area of about sixty 
 miles in diameter, where nothing meets the eye but a desolate 
 and awful waste ; where no grass grows nor water runs, amd 
 where nothing is to be seen but lava, Eanges of mountains 
 
M6 adventures of captain BONNEVILLE 
 
 skirt this plain, and, in Captain Bonneville’s opinion, were 
 formerly connected, until rent asunder by some convulsion of 
 nature. Far to the east the Three Tetons lift their heads sub- 
 limely, and dominate this vvide sea of lava— one of the most 
 striking features of a wilderness where everything seems on a 
 scale of stern and simple grandeur. 
 
 We look forward with impatience for some able geologist to 
 explore this subhme but almost unknown region. 
 
 It was not until the 25th of April that the two parties of 
 trappers broke up their encampments, and undertook to cross 
 over the southwest end of the mountain by a pass explored by 
 their scouts. From various points cf the mountain they com- 
 manded boundless prospects of the lava plain, stretching away 
 in cold and gloomy barrenness as far as the eye could reach. 
 On the evening of the 26th they reached the plain west of the 
 mountain, watered by the Malade, the Boisee, and other 
 streams, which comprised the contemplated trapping-ground. 
 
 The country about the Boisee (or Woody) Eiver is extolled 
 by Captain Bonneville as the most enchanting he had seen in 
 the Far West, presenting the mingled grandeur and beauty of 
 mountain and plain, of bright running streams and vast grassy 
 meadows waving to the breeze. 
 
 We shall not follow the captain throughout his trapping 
 campaign, which lasted until the beginning of June, nor detail 
 all the manoeuvres of the rival trapping parties and their vari- 
 ous schemes to outwit and out-trap each other. Suffice it to 
 say that, after having visited and camped about various 
 streams with various success, Captain Bonneville set forward 
 early in June for the appointed rendezvous at the caches. On 
 the way, he treated his party to a grand buffalo hunt. The 
 scouts had reported numerous herds in a plain beyond an in- 
 tervening height. There was an immediate halt ; the fleetest 
 horses were forthwith mounted and the party advanced to the 
 summit of the hill. Hence they beheld the great plain below 
 absolutely swarming with buffalo. Captain Bonneville now 
 appointed the place where he would encamp; and toward 
 which the hunters were to drive the game. He cautioned the 
 latter to advance slowly, reserving the strength and speed of 
 the horses until within a moderate distance of the herds. 
 Twenty-two horsemen descended cautiously into the plain, 
 conformably to these directions. ‘ ‘ It was a beautiful sight, ” 
 says the captain, ‘‘to see the runners, as they are called, ad- 
 vancing in column, at a slow trot, until within two hundred 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLR. 117 
 
 and fifty yards of the outskirts of the herd, then dashing on at 
 full speed until lost in the immense multitude oi bufialoes 
 scouring the plain in every direction.” All was now tumult 
 and wild confusion. In the meantime Captain Bonneville and 
 the residue of the party moved on to the appointed camping 
 ground; thither the most expert runners succeeded in driving 
 numbers of buffalo, which were killed hard by the camp, and 
 the flesh transported thither without difficulty. In a little 
 while the whole camp looked like one great slaughter-house ; 
 the carcasses were skilfully cut up, great fires were made, 
 scaffolds erected for drying and jerking beef, and an ample 
 provision was made for future subsistence. On the 15th of 
 June, the precise day appointed for the rendezvous. Captain 
 Bonneville and his party arrived safely at the caches. 
 
 Here he was joined by the other detachments of his main 
 party, all in good health and spirits. The caches were again 
 opened, supplies of various kinds taken out, and a hberal 
 allowance of aqua vitce distributed throughout the camp, to 
 celebrate with proper conviviahty this merry meeting. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MEETING WITH HODGKISS— MISFORTUNES OF THE NEZ PERCES- 
 SCHEMES OF KOSATO, THE RENEGADO— HIS FORAY INTO THE 
 HORSE PRAIRIE — INVASION OF BLAOKFEET— BLUE JOHN AND 
 HIS FORLORN HOPE— THEIR GENEROUS ENTERPRISE— THEIR FATE 
 — CONSTERNATION AND DESPAIR OF THE VILLAGE — SOLEMN 
 OBSEQUIES— ATTEMPT AT INDIAN TRADE— HUDSON’S BAY COM- 
 PANY’S MONOPOLY — ARRANGEMENTS FOR AUTUMN — BREAKING 
 UP OF AN ENCAMPMENT. 
 
 Having now a pretty strong party, well armed and equipped, 
 Captain Bonneville no longer felt the necessity of fortifying 
 himself in the secret places and fastnesses of the mountains ; 
 but sallied forth boldly into the Snake River plain, in search 
 of his clerk, Hodgkiss, who had remained with the Nez Perces. 
 He found him on the 24th of June, and learned from him an- 
 other chapter of misfortunes which had recently befallen that 
 ill-fated race. 
 
 After the departure of Captain Bonneville in March, Kosato. 
 
118 ADVEJSTVliES OE CAPTAliY EONlSEVlLLE, 
 
 the renegade Blackfoot, had recovered from the wound re- 
 ceived in battle ; and with his strength revived ull his deadly 
 hostility to his native tribe. He now resumed his efforts to 
 stir up the Nez Perces to reprisals upon their old enemies; re- 
 minding them incessantly of all the outrages and robberies 
 they had recently experienced, and assuring them that such 
 would continue to be their lot until they proved themselves 
 men by some signal retaliation. 
 
 The impassioned eloquence of the desperado at length pro- 
 duced an effect ; and a band of braves enlisted under his guid- 
 ance, to penetrate into the Blackfoot country, harass their vil- 
 lages, carry off their horses, and commit all kinds of depreda- 
 tions. 
 
 Kosato pushed forward on his foray as far as the Horse 
 Prairie, where he came upon a strong party of Blackfeet. 
 Without waiting to estimate their force, he attacked them 
 with characteristic fury, and was bravely seconded by his 
 followers. The contest, for a time, was hot and bloody; at 
 length, as is customary with these two tribes, they paused, and 
 held a long parley*, or rather a war of words. 
 
 “What need,” said the Blackfoot chief, tauntingly, “have 
 the Nez Perces to leave their homes, and sally forth on war 
 parties, when they have danger enough at their own doors? If 
 you want fighting, return to your villages; you will have 
 plenty of it there. The Blackfeet warriors have hitherto made 
 war upon you as children. They are now coming as men. A 
 great force is at hand ; they are on their way to your towns, 
 and are determined to rub out the very name of the Nez 
 Perces from the mountains. Return, I say, to your towns, 
 and fight there, if you wish to live any longer as a people.” 
 
 Kosato took him at his word ; for he knew the character ot 
 his native tribe. Hastening back with his band to the Ne;5 
 Perces village, he told all that he had seen and heard, ana 
 urged the most prompt and strenuous measures for defence. 
 The Nez Perces, however, heard him with their accustomed 
 phlegm; the threat of the Blackfeet had been often made, and 
 as often had proved a mere bravado ; such they pronounced it 
 to be at present, and, of course, took no precautions. 
 
 They were soon convinced that it was no empty menace. In 
 a few days a band of three hundred Blackfeet warriors ap- 
 peared upon the hills. All now was consternation in the 
 village. The force of the Nez Perces was too small to cope with 
 the enemy in open fight ; many of the young men having gone 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. HO 
 
 to their relatives on the Columbia to procure horses. The sage^j 
 met in hurried council. What was to he done to ward off a 
 blow which threatened annihilation? In this moment of im- 
 minent peril, a Pierced-nose chief, named Blue John by the 
 whites, offered to approach secretly with a small, but chosen 
 band, through a defile which led to the encami^ment of the 
 enemy, and, by a sudden onset, to drive off the horses. Should 
 this blow be successful, the spirit and strength of the invaders 
 would be broken, and the Nez Perces, having horses, would be 
 more than a match for them. Should it fail, the village would 
 not be worse off than at present, when destruction appeared 
 inevitable. 
 
 Twenty-nine of the choicest warriors instantly volunteered 
 to follow Blue John in this hazardous enterprise. They pre- 
 pared for it with the solemnity and devotion peculiar to the 
 tribe. Blue John consulted his medicine, or talismanic charm, 
 such as every chief keeps in his lodge as a supernatural pro- 
 tection. The oracle assured him that his enterprise would be 
 completely successful, provided no rain should fall before he 
 had passed through the defile; but should it rain, his band 
 would be utterly cut off. 
 
 The day was clear and bright; and Blue John anticipated 
 that the skies would be propitious. He departed in 'high 
 spirits with his forlorn hope; and never did band of braves 
 make a more gallant display — horsemen and horses being dec- 
 orated and equipped in the fiercest and most- glaring style- 
 glittering with arms and ornaments, and fluttering with 
 feathers. 
 
 The weather continued serene until they reached the defile; 
 but just as they were entering it a black cloud rose over the 
 mountain crest, and there was a sudden shov/er. The warriors 
 turned to their leader, as if to read his opinion of this unlucky 
 omen; but the countenance of Blue John remained unchanged, 
 and they continued to press forward. It was their hope to 
 make their way undiscovered to the very vicinity of the Black- 
 foot camp ; but they had not proceeded far in the defile, when 
 they met a scouting party of the enemy. They attacked and 
 drove them among the hills, and were pursuing them with 
 great eagerness when they heard shouts and yells behind them, 
 and beheld the main body of the Blackfeet advancing. 
 
 The second chief wavered a little at the sight and proposed 
 an instant retreat. “We came to fight!” replied Blue John, 
 sternly. Then giving his war-whoop, he sprang forward to 
 
120 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 the conflict. His braves followed him. They made a head- 
 long charge upon the enemy; not with the hope of victory, 
 but the determination to sell their lives dearly.^ A frightful 
 carnage, rather than a regular battle, succeeded. The forlorn 
 band laid heaps of their enemies dead at their feet, but were 
 overwhelmed with numbers and pressed into a gorge of the 
 mountain ; where they continued to fight until they were cut 
 to pieces. One only, of the thirty, survived. He sprang on 
 the horse of a Blackfoot warrior whom he had slain, and escap- 
 ing at full speed, brought home the baleful tidings to his 
 village. 
 
 Who can paint the horror and desolation of the inhabitants? 
 The flower of their warriors laid low, and a ferocious enemy at 
 their doors. The air was rent by the shrieks and lamentations 
 of the women, who, casting off their ornaments and tearing 
 their hair, wandered about, frantically bewailing the dead 
 and predicting destruction to the living. The remaining war- 
 riors armed themselves for obstinate defence; but showed by 
 their gloomy looks and sullen silence that they considered de- 
 fence hopeless. To their surprise the Blackfeet refrained from 
 pursuing their advantage; perhaps satisfied with the blood 
 already shed, or disheartened by the loss they had themselves 
 sustained. At any rate, they disappeared from the hills, and 
 it was soon ascertained that they had returned to the Horse 
 Prairie. 
 
 The unfortunate Nez Perces now began once more to breathe. 
 A few of their warriors, taking pack-horses, repaired to the 
 defile to bring away the bodies of their slaughtered brethren. 
 They found them mere headless trunks; and the wounds with 
 which they were covered showed how bravely they had 
 fought. Their hearts, too, had been torn out and carried off ; 
 a proof of their signal valor ; for in devouring the heart of a 
 foe renowned for bravery, or who has distinguished himself in 
 battle, the Indian victor thinks he appropriates to himself the 
 courage of the deceased. 
 
 Gathering the mangled bodies of the slain, and strapping 
 them across their pack-horses, the warriors returned, in dis- 
 mal procession, to the village. The tribe , came forth to meet 
 them; the women with piercing cries and wailings; the men 
 with downcast countenances, in which gloom and sorrow 
 seemed fixed as if in marble. The mutilated and almost undis- 
 tinguishable bodies were placed in rows upon the ground, in 
 the midst of the assemblage; and the scene of heart-rending 
 
ABVEJSTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 121 
 
 anguish and lamentation that ensued would have confounded 
 those who insist on Indian stoicism. 
 
 Such was the disastrous event that had overwhelmed the 
 Nez Perces tribe during the absence of Captain Bonneville; 
 and he was informed that Kosato, the renegade, who, being 
 stationed in the village, had been prevented from going on the 
 forlorn hope, was again striving to rouse the vindictive feel- 
 ings of his adopted brethren, and to prompt them to revenge 
 the slaughter of their devoted braves. 
 
 During his sojourn on the Snake Eiver plain. Captain Bonne- 
 ville made one of his first essays at the strategy of the fur 
 trade. There was at this time an assemblage of Nez Perces, 
 Flatheads, and Cottonois Indians encamped together upon the 
 plain; well provided with beaver, which they had collected 
 during the spring. These they were waiting to traffic with a 
 a resident trader of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who was 
 stationed among them, and with whom they were accustomed 
 to deal. As it happened, the trader was almost entirely desti- 
 tute of Indian goods; his spring supply not having yet reached 
 him. Captain Bonneville had secret intelligence that the sup- 
 plies were on their way, and would soon arrive ; he hoped, how- 
 ever, by a prompt move, to anticipate their arrival, and secure 
 the market to himself. Throwing himself, therefore, among the 
 Indians, he opened his packs of merchandise and displayed the 
 most tempting wares : bright cloths, and scarlet blankets, and 
 glittering ornaments, and everything gay and glorious in the 
 eyes of warrior or squaw ; all, however, was in vain. The Hud- 
 son’s Bay trader was a perfect master of his business, thor- 
 rougly acquainted with the Indians he had to deal with, and 
 held such control over them that none dared to act openly in 
 opposition to his wishes ; nay, more — he came nigh turning the 
 tables upon the captain, and shaking the allegiance of some 
 of his free trappers, by distributing liquors among them. The 
 latter, therefore, was glad to give up a competition, where the 
 war was likely to be carried into his own camp. 
 
 In fact, the traders of the Hudson’s Bay Company have ad- 
 vantages over all competitors in the trade beyond the Rocky 
 Mountains. That huge monopoly centres within itself not 
 merely its own hereditary and long-established power and in- 
 fluence ; but also those of its ancient rival, but now integral 
 part, the famous Northwest Company. It has thus its races of 
 traders, trappers, hunters, and voyageurs, born and brought 
 up in its service, and inheriting from preceding generations a 
 
122 AD TE:N TUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 knowledge and aptitude in everything connected with Indian 
 life, and Indian traffic. In the process of years, this company 
 has been enabled to spread its ramifications in every direction; 
 its system of intercourse is founded upon a long and intimate 
 knowledge of the character and necessities of the various tribes ; 
 and of aU the fastnesses, defiles, and favorable hunting grounds 
 of the country. Their capital, also, and the manner in which 
 their supplies are distributed at various posts, or forwarded by 
 regular caravans, keep their traders well supplied, and enable 
 them to furnish their goods to the Indians at a cheap rate. 
 Their men, too, being chiefiy drawn from the Canadas, where 
 they enjoy great infiuence and control, are engaged at the most 
 trifiing wages, and supported at little cost; the provisions 
 which they take with them being little more than Indian corn 
 and grease. They are brought also into the most perfect dis- 
 cipline and subordination, especially when their leaders have 
 once got them to their scene of action in the heart of the wil- 
 derness. 
 
 These circumstances combine to give the leaders of the Hud- 
 son’s Bay Company a decided advantage over all the American 
 companies that come within their range; so that any close 
 competition with them is almost hopeless. 
 
 Shortly after Captain Bonneville’s ineffectual attempt to 
 participate in the trade of the associated camp, the supplies of 
 the Hudson’s Bay Company arrived ; and the resident trader 
 was enabled to monopolize the market. 
 
 It was now the beginning of July; in the latter part of which 
 month Captain Bonneville had appointed a rendezvous at Horse 
 Creek in Green Eiver valley, with some of the parties which 
 he had detached in the preceding year. He now turned his 
 thoughts in that direction, and prepared for the journey. 
 
 The Cottonois were anxious for him to proceed at once to 
 their country; which, they assured him, abounded in beaver. 
 The lands of this tribe lie immediately north of those of the 
 Flatheads and are open to the inroads of the Blackfeet. It is 
 true, the latter professed to be their allies ; but they had been 
 guilty of so many acts of perfidy, that the Cottonois had, lat- 
 terly, renounced their hollow friendship and attached them 
 selves to the Flatheads and Nez Perces. These they had accom- 
 panied in their migrations rather than remain alone at home, 
 exposed to the outrages of tlie Blackfeet. They were now ap- 
 prehensive that these marauders would range their country 
 during their absence and destroy the beaver; this Avas their 
 
ADVENTURhJS OIr CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 12 ;} 
 
 reason for urging C^^ptain Bonneville to make it his autumnal 
 hunting ground. The latter, however, was not to be tempted ; 
 his engagements required his presence at the rendezvous in 
 Green Eiver valley ; and he had already formed his ulterior 
 plans. 
 
 An unexpected difficulty now arose. The free trappers sud 
 denly made a stand, and declined to accompany him. It was 
 4 long and weary journey ; the route lay through Pierre’s Hole, 
 and other mountain passes infested by the Blackfeet, and re- 
 cently the scenes of sanguinary conflicts. They were not dis' 
 ^osed to undertake such unnecessary toils and dangers, when 
 tney had good and secure trapping grounds nearer at hand, on 
 ^ne head- waters of Salmon River. 
 
 As these were free and independent fellows, whose will and 
 wiiim were apt to be law — who had the whole wilderness be- 
 fore them, “where to choose,” and the trader of a rival com- 
 pany at hand, ready to pay for their services— it was necessary 
 to bend to their wishes. Captain Bonneville fitted them out, 
 therefore, for the hunting ground in question ; appointing Mr. 
 Hodgkiss to act as their partisan, or leader, and fixing a ren- 
 dezvous where he should meet them in the course of the ensu- 
 ing winter. The brigade consisted of twen*ty-one free trappers 
 and four or five hired men as camp-keepers. This was not the 
 exact arrangement of a trapping party ; which when accurately 
 organized is composed of two thirds trappers whose duty leads 
 them continually abroad in pursuit of game; and one third 
 camp-keepers who cook, pack, and unpack; set up the tents, 
 take care of the horses and do all other duties usually assigned 
 by the Indians to their women. This part of the service is apt 
 to be fulfilled by French creoles from Canada and the valley of 
 the Mississippi. 
 
 In the meantime the associated Indians having completed 
 their trade and received their supplies, were all ready to dis- 
 perse in various directions. As there was a formidable band 
 of Blackfeet just over a mountain to the northeast, by which 
 Hodgkiss and his free trappers would have to pass ; and as it 
 was known that those sharp-sighted marauders had their 
 scouts out watching every movement of the encampments, sa^ 
 as to cut off stragglers or weak detachments. Captain Bonne- 
 ville prevailed upon the Nez Perces to accompany Hodgkiss 
 and his party until they should be beyond the range of the 
 enemy. 
 
 The Cottonois and the Pends Oreilles determined to move 
 
124 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 together at the same time, and to pass close under the moun- 
 tain infested by the Blackf eet ; while Captain Bonneville, with 
 his party, was to strike in an opposite dii*ection to the south- 
 east, bending his course for Pierre’s Hole, on his way to Green 
 Biver. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 6th of July, all the camps were raised at 
 the same moment ; each party taking its separate route. Whe 
 scene was wild and picturesque ; the long line of traders, trap- 
 pers, and Indians, with their rugged and fantastic dresses and 
 accoutrements ; their varied weapons, their innumerable 
 horses, some under the saddle, some burdened with packages, 
 others following in droves; all stretching in lengthening caval- 
 cades across the vast landscape, and making for different 
 points of the plains and mountains. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 PRECAUTIONS IN DANGEROUS DEFILES — TRAPPERS’ MODE OP 
 DEFENCE ON A PRAIRIE — A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR — ARRIVAL IN 
 GREEN RIVER VALLEY— ADVENTURES OF THE DETACHMENTS-- 
 THE FORLORN PARTISAN— HIS TALE OF DISASTERS. 
 
 As the route of Captain Bonneville lay through what was 
 considered the most perilous part of this region of dangers, he 
 took all his measures with military skill, and observed the 
 strictest circumspection. When on the march, a small scout- 
 ing party was thrown in the advance to reconnoitre the coun- 
 try through which they were to pass. The encampments were 
 selected with great care, and a watch was kept up night and 
 day. The horses were brought in and picketed at night, and 
 at daybreak a party was sent out to scour the neighborhood for 
 half a mile round, beating up every grove and thicket that 
 could give shelter to a lurking foe. When all was reported 
 safe, the horses were cast loose and turned out to graze. Were 
 such precautions generally observed by traders and hunters, 
 we should not so often hear of parties being surprised by the 
 Indians. 
 
 Having stated the military arrangements of the captain, we 
 may here mention a mode of defence on the open prairie, 
 ^hich we have heard from a veteran in the Indian trade. 
 
ADVK^TUREb OF CArTATTi^ 125 
 
 When a party of trappers is on a journey with a convoy of 
 goods or peltries, every man has three pack-horses under his 
 care; each horse laden with three packs. Every man is pro 
 vided with a picket with an iron head, a mallet, and hobbles, 
 or leathern fetters for the horses. The trappers proceed across 
 the prairie in a long line; or sometimes three parallel lines, 
 sufficiently distant from each other to prevent the packs from 
 interfering. At an alarm, when there is no covert at hand, 
 the line wheels so as to bring the front to the rear and form 
 a circle. All then dismount, drive their pickets into the 
 ground in the centre, fasten the horses to them, and hobble 
 their forelegs, so that, in case of alarm, they cannot break 
 away. Then they unload them, and dispose of their packs as 
 breastworks on the periphery of the circle ; each man having 
 nine packs behind which to shelter himself. In this promptly- 
 formed fortress, they await the assault of the enemy, and are 
 enabled to set large bands of Indians at defiance. 
 
 The first night of his march. Captain Bonneville encamped 
 upon Henry’s Fork ; an upper branch of Snake Eiver, called 
 after the first American trader that erected a fort beyond the 
 mountains. About an hour after all hands had come to a 
 halt the clatter of hoofs was heard, and a solitary female, of 
 the Nez Perce tribe, came galloping up. She was mounted 
 on a mustang or half wild horse, which she managed by a 
 long rope hitched round the under jaw by way of bridle. 
 Dismounting, she walked silently into the midst of the camp, 
 and there seated herself on the ground, still holding her horse 
 by the long halter. 
 
 The sudden and lonely apparition of this woman, and her 
 calm yet resolute demeanor, awakened universal curiosity. 
 The hunters and trappers gathered round, and gazed on her 
 as something mysterious. She remained silent, but main- 
 tained her air of calmness and self-possession. Captain Bonne- 
 ville approached and interrogated her as to the object of her 
 mysterious visit. Her answer was brief but earnest — I love 
 the whites — I will go with them.” She was forthwith invited 
 to a lodge, of which she readily took possession, and from that 
 time forward was considered one of the camp. 
 
 In consequence, very probably, of the military precautions 
 of Captain Bonneville, he conducted his party in safety 
 through this hazardous region. No accident of a disastrous 
 kind occurred, excepting the loss of a horse, which, in passing 
 along the giddy edge of a precipice, called the Cornice, a dan' 
 
126 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 gerous pass between Jackson’s and Pierre’s Hole, fell over tlie 
 brink, and was dashed to pieces. 
 
 On the 13th of July (1833), Captain Bonneville arrived at 
 Green River. As he entered the valley, he beheld it strewed in 
 every direction with the carcasses of buffaloes. It was evident 
 that Indians had recently been there, and in great numbers. 
 Alarmed at this sight, he came to a halt, and as soon as it was 
 da.rk, sent out spies to his place of rendezvous on Horse Creek, 
 where he had expected to meet with his detached parties of 
 trappers on the following day. Early in the morning the spies 
 made their appearance in the camp, and with them came three 
 trappers of one of his bands, from the rendezvous, who told 
 him his people were all there expecting him. As to the 
 slaughter among the buffaloes, it had been made by a friendly 
 band of Shoshor_*es, who had fallen in with one of his trapping 
 parties, and accompanied them to the rendezvous. Having 
 imparted this intelligence, the three worthies from the ren- 
 dezvous broached a small keg of ‘ ‘ alcohol, ” which they had 
 brought with them, to enliven this merry meeting. The liquor 
 went briskly round ; all absent friends were toasted, and the 
 party moved forward to the rendezvous in high spirits. 
 
 The meeting of associated bands, who have been separate<l 
 from each other on these hazardous enterprises, is always in- 
 teresting; each having its tales of perils and adventures to 
 relate. Such was the case with the various detachments of 
 Captain Bonneville’s company, thus brought together on Horse 
 Creek. Here was the detachment of fifty men which he had 
 sent from Salmon River, in the preceding month of November, 
 to winter on Snake River. They had met with many crosses 
 and losses in the course of their spring hunt, not so much from 
 Indians as from white men. They had come in competition 
 with rival trapping parties, particularly one belonging to the 
 Rocky Mountain Fur Company ; and they had long stories to 
 relate of their manoeuvres to forestall or distress each other. 
 In fact, in these virulent and sordid competitions, the trappers 
 of each party were more intent upon injuring their rivals,, 
 than benefitting themselves ; breaking each other’s traps, tramp- 
 ling and tearing to pieces the beaver lodges, and doing every 
 thing in their power to mar the success of the hunt. We for' 
 bear to detail these pitiful contentions. 
 
 The most lamentable tale of disasters, however, that Captain 
 Bonneville had to hear, was from a partisan, whom he had 
 detached in the preceding year, with twenty men, to hunt 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 127 
 
 through the outskirts of the Crow country, and on ^^ihu- 
 tary streams of the Yellowstone; whence he was to ptoceed 
 and join him in his winter quarters on Salmon Rive* . This 
 partisan appeared at the rendezvous without his party, and a 
 sorrowful tale of disasters had he to relate. In hunting the 
 Crow country, he fell in with a village of that tribe ; notorious 
 rogues, jockeys, and horse stealers, and errant scamperers of 
 the mountains. These decoyed most of his men to desert, and 
 carry off horses, traps, and accoutrements. Wlien he at- 
 tempted to retake the deserters, the Crow warriors ruffled up 
 to him and declared the deserters were their good friends, had 
 determined to remain among them, and should not be mo- 
 lested. The poor partisan, therefore, was fain to leave his 
 vagabonds among these birds of their own feather, and being 
 too weak in numbers to attempt the dangerous pass across the 
 mountains to meet Captain Bonneville on Salmon River, he 
 made, with the few that remained faithful to him, for the 
 neighborhood of Tullock’s Fort, on the Yellowstone, under the 
 protection of which lie went into winter quarters. 
 
 He soon found out that the neighborhood of the fort was 
 nearly as bad as the neighborhood of the Crows. His men 
 were continually stealing away thither, with whatever beaver 
 skins they could secrete or lay their hands on. These they 
 would exchange with the hangers-on of the fort for whiskey, 
 and then revel in drunkenness and debauchery. 
 
 The unlucky partisan made another move. Associating with 
 his party a few free trappers, whom he met with in this neigh- 
 borhood, he started off early in the spring to trap on the head 
 waters of Powder River. In the course of the journey^ his 
 horses were so much jaded in traversing a steep mountain, 
 that he was induced to turn them loose to graze during the 
 night. The place was lonely ; the path was rugged ; there was 
 not the sign of an Indian in the neighborhood ; not a blade of 
 grass that had been turned by a footstep. But who can calcu- 
 late on security in the midst of the Indian country, where the 
 foe lurks in silence and secrecy, and seems to come and go on 
 the wings of the wind? The horses had scarce been turned 
 loose, when a couple of Arickara (or Rickaree) warriors en- 
 tered the camp. They affected a frank and friendly demeanor ; 
 but their appearance and movements awakened the suspicions 
 of some of the veteran trappers, well versed in Indian wiles. 
 Convinced that they were spies sent on some sinister errand, 
 they took them in custody, and set to work to drive in the 
 
128 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 horses. It was too late — the horses were already gone. In 
 fact, a war party of Arickaras had been hovering on their trail 
 for several days, watching with the patience and perseverance 
 of Indians, for some moment of negligence and fancied secu- 
 rity, to make a successful swoop. The two spies had evidently 
 been sent into the camp to create a diversion, while their con- 
 federates carried off the spoil. 
 
 The unlucky partisan, thus robbed of his horses, turned furi- 
 ously on his prisoners, ordered them to be bound hand and 
 foot, and swore to put them to death unless his property were 
 restored. The robbers, who soon found that their spies were 
 in captivity, now made their appearance on horseback, and 
 held a parley. The sight of them, mounted on the very horses 
 they had stolen, set the blood of the mountaineers in a fer- 
 ment ; but it was useless to attack them, as they would have 
 but to turn their steeds and scamper out of the reach of pedes- 
 trians. A negotiation was now attempted. The Arickaras 
 offered what they considered fair terms ; to barter one horse, 
 or even two horses, for a prisoner. The mountaineers spurned 
 at their offer, and declared that, unless all the horses were re- 
 linquished, the prisoners should be burnt to death. To give 
 force to their threat, a pyre of logs and fagots was heaped up 
 and kindled into a blaze. 
 
 The parley continued; the Arickaras released one horse and 
 then another, in earnest of their proposition ; finding, however, 
 that nothing short of the relinquishment of all their spoils 
 would purchase the lives of the captives, they abandoned them 
 to their fate, moving off with many parting words and lament- 
 able bowlings. The prisoners seeing them depart, and know- 
 ing the horrible fate that awaited them, made a desperate 
 effort to escape. They partially succeeded, but were severely 
 wounded and retaken ; then dragged to the blazing pyre, and 
 burnt to death in the sight of their retreating comrades. 
 
 Such are the savage cruelties that white men learn to prac- 
 tise, who mingle in savage life ; and such are the acts that lead 
 to terrible recrimination on the part of the Indians. Should 
 we hear of any atrocities committed by the Arickaras upon 
 captive white men, let this signal and recent provocation be 
 borne in mind. Individual cases of the kind dwell in the recol- 
 lections of whole tribes ; and it is a point of honor and con- 
 science to revenge them. 
 
 The loss of his horses completed the ruin of the unlucky par- 
 tisan. It was out of his power to prosecute his hunting, or to 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 129 
 
 maintain his party ; the only thought now was how to get back 
 to civihzed hfe. At the first water-course, his men built canoes, 
 and committed themselves t o the stream. Some engaged them- 
 selves at various trading establishments at which they touched, 
 others got back to the settlements. As to the partisan, he found 
 an opportunity to make his way to the rendezvous at Green 
 River valley; which he reached in time to render to Captain 
 Bonneville this forlorn account of his misadventures. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 GATHERING IN GREEN RIVER VALLEY— VISITINGS AND FEASTINGS 
 OF LEADERS — ROUGH WASSAILING AMONG THE TRAPPERS — 
 WILD BLADES OF THE MOUNTAINS — INDIAN BELLES— POTENCY 
 OF BRIGHT BEADS AND RED BLANKETS— ARRIVAL OF SUPPLIES 
 — REVELRY AND EXTRAV AG ANCE — M AD WOLVES — THE LOST 
 INDIAN. 
 
 The Green River valley was at this time the scene of one of 
 those general gatherings of traders, trappers, and Indians, that 
 we have already mentioned. The three rival companies, which, 
 for a year past had been endeavoring to out-trade, out-trap, 
 and outwit each other, were here encamped in close proximity, 
 awaiting their annual supplies. About four miles from the 
 rendezvous of Captain Bonneville was that of the American 
 Fur Company, hard by which, was that also of the Rocky 
 Mountain Fur Company. 
 
 After the eager rivalry and almost hostility displayed by 
 these companies in their late campaigns, it might be expected 
 that, when thus brought in juxtaposition, they would hold 
 themselves warily and sternly aloof from each other, and, 
 should they happen to come in contact, brawl and bloodshed 
 would ensue. 
 
 No such thing I Never did rival lawyers after a wrangle at 
 the bar meet with more social good-humor at a circuit dinner. 
 The hunting season over, all past tricks and manoeuvres are 
 forgotten, all feuds and bickerings buried in oblivion. From 
 the middle of June to the middle of September, all trapping is 
 suspended ; for the beavers are then shedding their furs and 
 their skins are of little value. This, then, is the trapper’s holi- 
 
ISO ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 day when he is all for fun and frolic, and ready for a satiu*' 
 nalia among the mountains. 
 
 At the present season, too, all parties were in good humor. 
 The year had been productive. Competition, by threatening 
 to lessen their profits, had quickened their wits, roused their 
 energies, and made them turn every favorable chance to the 
 best advantage; so that, on assembling at their respective 
 places of rendezvous, each company found itself in possession 
 of a rich stock of peltries. 
 
 The leaders of the different companies, therefore, mingled on 
 terms of perfect good-fellowship; interchanging visits, and re- 
 galing each other in the best style their respective camps af- 
 forded. But the rich treat for the worthy captain was to see 
 the “ chivalry” of the various encampments engaged in contests 
 of skill at running, jumping, wrestling, shooting with the rifle, 
 and running horses. And then their rough hunters’ feastings 
 and carousals. They drank together, they sang, they laughed, 
 they whooped ; they tried to outbrag and outlie each other in 
 stories of their adventures and achievements. Here the free 
 trappers were in all their glory; they considered themselves 
 the “cocks of the walk,” and always carried the highest crests. 
 Now and then familiarity was pushed too far, and would effer- 
 vesce into a brawl, and a “ rough and tumble” fight; but it all 
 ended in cordial reconciliation and maudlin endearment. 
 
 The presence of the Shoshonie tribe contributed occasionally 
 to cause temporary jealousies and feuds. The Shoshonie beau- 
 ties became objects of rivalry among some of the amorous 
 mountaineers. Happy was the trapper who could muster up a 
 red blanket, a string of gay beads, or a paper of precious ver- 
 milion, with which to win the smiles of a Shoshonie fair one. 
 
 The caravans of supplies arrived at the valley just at this 
 period of gallantry and good-fellowship. Now commenced a 
 scene of eager competition and wild prodigality at the different 
 encampments. Bales were hastily ripped open, and their motley 
 contents poured forth. A jnania for purchasing spread itself 
 throughout the several bands — munitions for war, for hunting, 
 for gallantry, were seized upon with equal avidity — rifles, 
 hunting knives, traps, scarlet cloth, red blankets, garish beads, 
 and glittering trinkets, were bought at any price, and scores 
 run up without any thought how they were ever to be rubbed 
 off. The free trappers especially were extravagant in their 
 purchases. For a free mountaineer to pause at a paltry con- 
 sideration of dollars and cents, in the attainment of any object 
 
ADVEISTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 131 
 
 that might strike liis fancy, would stamp him with the mark 
 of the beast in the estimation of his comrades. For a trader to 
 refuse one of these free and flourishing blades a credit, what- 
 ever unpaid scores might stare him in the face, would be a fla- 
 grant affront, scarcely to be forgiven. 
 
 Now succeeded another outbreak of revelry and extrava- 
 gance. The trappers were newly fitted out and arrayed, and 
 dashed about with their horses caparisoned in Indian style. 
 The Shoshonie beauties also flaunted about in all the colors of 
 the rainbow. Every freak of prodigality was indulged to its 
 fullest extent, and in a little while most of the trappers, having 
 squandered away all their wages, and perhaps run knee-deep 
 in debt, were ready for another hard campaign in the wilder- 
 ness. 
 
 During this season of folly and frolic, there was an alarm of 
 mad wolves in the two lower camps. One or more of these 
 animals entered the camps for three nights successively, and 
 bit several of the people. 
 
 Captain Bonneville relates the case of an Indian who was a 
 universal favorite in the lower camp. He had been bitten by 
 one of these animals. Being out with a party shortly afterward 
 he grew silent and gloomy, and lagged behind the rest, as if 
 he wished to leave them. They halted and urged him to move 
 faster, but he entreated them not to approach him, and, leap- 
 ing from his horse, began to roll frantically on the earth, gnash- 
 ing his teeth and foaming at the mouth. Still he retained his 
 senses, and warned his companions not to come near him, as 
 he should not be able to restrain himself from biting them. 
 They hurried off to obtain relief ; but on their return he was 
 nowhere to be found. His horse and his accoutrements re- 
 mained upon the spot. Three or four days afterward, a soli- 
 tary Indian, believed to be the same, was observed crossing a 
 valley, and pursued ; but he darted away into the fastnesses of 
 the mountains, and was seen no more. 
 
 Another instance we have from a different person who was 
 present in the encampment. One of the men of the Rocky 
 Mountain Fur Company had been bitten. He set out shortly 
 afterward in company with two white men, on his return to the 
 settlements. In the course of a few days he showed symptoms 
 of hydrophobia, and became raving toward night. At length, 
 breaking away from his companions, he rushed into a thicket 
 of willows, where they left him to his fate ! 
 
132 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 SCHEMES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE— THE GREAT SALT LAKE— EX- 
 PEDITION TO EXPLORE IT— PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY TO 
 
 THE BIGHORN. 
 
 Captain Bonneville now found himself at the head of a 
 hardy, well-seasoned and well-appointed company of trappers, 
 all benefited by at least one year’s experience among the moun- 
 tains, and capable of protecting themselves from Indian wiles 
 and stratagems, and of providing for their subsistence wherever 
 game was to he found. He had, also, an excellent troop of 
 horses, in prime condition, and fit for hard service. He deter- 
 . mined, therefore, to strike out into some of the bolder parts of 
 his scheme. One of these was to carry his expeditions into 
 some of the unknown tracts of the Far West, beyond what is 
 generally termed the buffalo range. This would have some- 
 thing of the merit and charm of discovery, so dear to every 
 brave and adventurous spirit. Another favorite project was 
 to establish a trading post on the lower part of the Columbia 
 River, near the Multnomah valley, and to endeavor to re- 
 trieve for his country some of the lost trade of Astoria. 
 
 The first of the above mentioned views was, at present, 
 uppermost in his mind — the exploring of unknown regions. 
 Among the grand features of the wilderness about which he 
 was roaming, one had made a vivid impression on his mind, 
 and been clothed by his imagination with vague and ideal 
 charms. This is a great lake of salt water, laving the feet of the 
 mountains, but extending far to the west-southwest, into one 
 of those vast and elevated plateaus of land, which range high 
 above the level of the Pacific. 
 
 Captain Bonneville gives a striking account of the lake when 
 seen from the land. As you ascend the mountains about its 
 shores, says he, you behold this immense body of water spread- 
 ing itself before you, and stretching further and further, in one 
 wide and far-reaching expanse, until the eye, wearied with 
 continued and strained attention, rests in the blue dimness of 
 distance, upon lofty ranges of mountains, confidently asserted 
 to rise from the bosom of the waters. Nearer to you, the 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 133 
 
 smooth and unruffled surface is studded with little islands, 
 where the mountain sheep roam in considerable numbers. 
 What extent of lowland may be encompassed by the high 
 peaks beyond, must remain for the present matter of mere 
 conjecture; though from the form of the summits, and the 
 breaks which may be discovered among them, there can be 
 httle doubt that they are the sources of streams calculated to 
 water large tracts, which are probably concealed from view by 
 the rotundity of the lake’s surface. At some future day, in 
 all probability, the rich harvest of beaver fur, which may be 
 reasonably anticipated in such a spot, will tempt adventurers 
 to reduce all this doubtful region to the palpable certainty of a 
 beaten track. At present, however, destitute of the means of 
 making boats, the trapper stands upon the shore, and gazes 
 upon a promised land which his feet are never to tread. 
 
 Such is the somewhat fanciful view which Captain Bonne- 
 ville gives of this great body of water. He has evidently 
 taken part of his ideas concerning it from the representations 
 of others, who have somewhat exaggerated its features. It is 
 reported to be about one hundred and fifty miles long, and 
 fifty miles broad. The ranges of mountain peaks which Cap- 
 tain Bonneville speaks of, as rising from its bosom, are prob- 
 ably the summits of mountains beyond it, which may be 
 visible at a vast distance^ when viewed from an eminence, in the 
 transparent atmosphere of these lofty regions. Several large 
 islands certainly exist in the lake ; one of which is said to be 
 mountainous, but not by any means to the extent required to 
 furnish the series of peaks above mentioned. 
 
 Captain Sublette, in one of his early expeditions across the 
 mountains, is said to have sent four men in a skin canoe, to 
 explore the lake, who professed to have navigated all round it ; 
 but to have suffered excessively from thirst, the water of the 
 lake being extremely salt, and there being no fresh streams 
 running into it. 
 
 Captain Bonneville doubts this report, or that the men ac-= 
 complished the circumnavigation, because, he says, the lake 
 receives several large streams from the mountains which 
 bound it to the east. In the spring, when the streams are 
 swollen by rain and by the melting of the snows, the lake rises 
 several feet above its ordinary level; during the summer, it 
 gradually subsides again, leaving a sparkhng zone of the finest 
 salt upon its shores. 
 
 The elevation of the vast plateau on which this lake is sitU' 
 
134 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 ated, is estimated by Captain Bonneville at one and three 
 fourths of a mile above the level of the ocean. The admirabb 
 purity and transparency of the atmosphere in this region, al- 
 lowing objects to be seen, and the report of firearms to be 
 heard at an astonishing distance; and its extreme dryness, 
 causing the wheels of wagons to fall in pieces, as instanced in 
 former passages of this work, are proofs of the great altitude 
 of the Rocky Mountain plains. That a body of salt water 
 should exist at such a height, is cited as a singular phenome- 
 non by Captain Bonneville, though the salt lake of Mexico is 
 not much inferior in elevation.* 
 
 To have this lake properly explored, and all its secrets re- 
 vealed, was the grand scheme of the captain for the present 
 year ; and while it was one in which his imagination evidently 
 took a leading part, he believed it would be attended with great 
 profit, from the numerous beaver streams with which the lake 
 must be fringed. 
 
 This momentous undertaking he confided to his lieutenant, 
 Mr. Walker, in whose experience and ability he had great con- 
 fidence. He instructed him to keep along the shores of the 
 lake, and trap in all the streams on his route ; also to keep a 
 journal, and minutely to record the events of his journey, and 
 everything curious or interesting, making maps or charts of 
 his route, and of the surrounding country. 
 
 No pains nor expense were spared in fitting out the party, of 
 forty men, which he was to command. They had complete 
 supplies for a year, and were to meet Captain Bonneville in 
 the ensuing summer, in the valley of Bear River, the largest 
 tributary of the Salt Lake, which was to be his point of general 
 rendezvous. 
 
 The next care of Captain Bonneville, was to arrange for the 
 safe transportation of the peltries which he had collected, to 
 the Atlantic States. Mr. Robert Campbell, the partner of Sub- 
 lette, was at this time in the rendezvous of the Rocky Moun- 
 tain Fur Company, having brought up their supplies. He was 
 about to set off on his return, with the peltries collected during 
 the year, and intended to proceed through the Crow country, 
 to t .e head of navigation on the Bighorn River, and to descend 
 
 ♦ The lake of Tezcuco, which surrounds the city of Mexico, the largest and lowest 
 of the five lakes in the Mexican plateau, and one of the most impregnated with saline 
 particles, is seven thousand four hundred and sixty-eight feet, or nearly one mile 
 and a half above the level of the sea. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. I35 
 
 in boats down that river, the Missouri, and the Yellowstone, to 
 St. Louis. 
 
 Captain Bonneville determined to forward his peltries by 
 the same route, under the especial care of Mr. Cerre. By way 
 of escort, he would accompany Cerre to the point of embarka 
 tion and then make an autumnal hunt in the Crow country. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE CROW COUNTRY— A CROW PARADISE— HABITS OF THE CROWS 
 —ANECDOTES OF ROSE, THE RENEGADE WHITE MAN— HIS FIGHTS 
 WITH THE BLACKFEET— HIS ELEVATION— HIS DEATH— ARAPOO- 
 ISH, THE CROW CHIEF— HIS EAGLE— ADVENTURE OF ROBERT 
 CAMPBELL— HONOR AMONG CROWS. 
 
 Before we accompany Captain Bonneville into the Crow 
 country, we will impart a few facts about this wild region, 
 and the wild people who inhabit it. We are not aware of the 
 precise boundaries, if there are any, of the country claimed by 
 the Crows ; it appears to extend from the Black Hills to the 
 Rocky Mountains, including a part of their lofty ranges, and 
 embracing many of the plains and valleys watered by the 
 Wind River, the Yellowstone, the Powder River, the Little 
 Missouri, and the Nebraska. The country varies in soil and 
 climate ; there are vast plains of sand and clay, studded with 
 large red sand-hills; other parts are mountainous and pictu- 
 resque; it possesses warm springs, and coal mines, and abounds 
 with game. 
 
 But let us give the account of the country as rendered by 
 Arapooish, a Crow chief, to Mr. Robert Campbell, of the 
 Rocky Mountain Fur Company. 
 
 ‘‘The Crow country,” said he, “is a good country. The 
 Great Spirit has put it exactly in the right place ; while you 
 are in it you fare well; whenever you go out of it, whichever 
 way you travel, you fare worse. 
 
 “If you go to the south you have to wander over great 
 barren plains ; the water is warm and bad, and you meet the 
 fever and ague. 
 
 “To the north it is cold; the winters are long and bitter, 
 
136 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 with no grass; you cannot keep horses there, hut must travel 
 with dogs. What is a country without horses? 
 
 On the Columbia they are poor and dirty, paddle about in 
 canoes, and eat fish. Their teeth are worn out; they are al- 
 ways taking fish-bones out of their mouths. Fish is poor food. 
 
 To the east, they dwell in villages ; they live well ; bilt they 
 drink the muddy water of the Missouri — that is bad. A 
 Crow’s dog would not drink such water. 
 
 ‘‘About the forks of the Missouri is a fine country; good 
 water ; good grass ; plenty of buffalo. In summer, it is almost 
 as good as the Crow country; but in winter it is cold; the 
 grass is gone ; and there is no salt weed for the horses. 
 
 “The Crow country is exactly in the right place. It has 
 snowy mountains and sunny plains; all kinds of climates 
 and good things for every season. When the summer heats 
 scorch the prairies, you can draw up under the mountains, 
 where the air is sweet and cool, the grass fresh, and the bright 
 streams come tumbling out of the snow-banks. There you 
 can hunt the elk, the deer, and the antelope, when their skins 
 are fit for dressing ; there you will find plenty of white bears 
 and mountain sheep. 
 
 “ In the autumn, when your horses are fat and strong from 
 the mountain pastures, you can go down into the plains and 
 hunt the buffalo, or trap beaver on the streams. And when 
 winter comes on, you can take shelter in the woody bottoms 
 along the rivers ; there you wiU find buffalo meat for your- 
 selves, and cotton- wood bark for your horses; or you may 
 winter in the Wind Kiver valley, where there is salt weed in 
 abundance. 
 
 “ The Crow country is exactly in the right place. Every- 
 thing good is to be found there. There is no country like the 
 Crow country.” 
 
 Such is the eulogium on his country by Arapooish. 
 
 We have had repeated occasions to speak of the restless and 
 predatory habits of the Crows. They can muster fifteen hun- 
 dred fighting men ; but their incessant wars with the Black- 
 feet, and their vagabond, predatory habits, are gradually 
 wearing them out. 
 
 In a recent work, we related the circumstance of a white 
 man named Eose, an outlaw, and a designing vagabond, who 
 acted as guide and interpreter to Mr. Hunt and his party, on 
 their journey across the mountains to Astoria, who came near 
 betraying them into the hands of the Crows, and who ro 
 
adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 137 
 
 mained among the tribe, marrying one of their women, and 
 adopting their congenial habits.* A few anecdotes of the sub' 
 sequent fortunes of that renegade may not be uninteresting, 
 especially as they are connected with the fortunes of the 
 tribe. 
 
 Eose was powerful in frame and fearless in spirit ; and soon 
 by his daring deeds took his rank among the first braves of 
 the tribe. He aspired to command, and knew it was only to 
 be attained by desperate exploits. He distinguished himself in 
 repeated actions with Blackfeet. On one occasion, a band of 
 those savages had fortified themselves within a breastwork, 
 and could not be harmed. Eose proposed to storm the work. 
 “Who will take the lead?” was the demand. “I!” cried he; 
 and putting himself at their head, rushed forward. The first 
 Blackfoot that opposed him he shot down with his rifie, and 
 snatching up the war-club of his victim killed four others 
 within the fort. The victory was complete, and Eose returned 
 to the Crow village covered with glory, and bearing five Black- 
 foot scalps, to be erected as a trophy before his lodge. From 
 this time he was known among the Crows by the name 
 of Che-ku-kaats, or “the man who killed five.” He became 
 chief of the village, or rather band, and for a time was the 
 popular idol. His popularity soon awakened envy among the 
 native braves; he was a stranger, an intruder; a white man. 
 A party seceded from his command. Feuds and civil wars 
 succeeded that lasted for two or three years, until Eose, hav- 
 ing contrived to set his adopted brethren by the ears, left 
 them, and went down the Missouri in 1823. Here he fell in 
 with one of the earliest trapping expeditions sent by General 
 Ashley across the mountains. It was conducted by Smith, 
 Fitzpatrick, and Sublette. Eose enlisted with them as guide 
 and interpreter. When he got them among the Crows, he 
 was exceedingly generous with their goods; making presents 
 to the braves of his adopted tribe, as became a high-minded 
 chief. 
 
 This doubtless, helped to revive his popularity. In that ex- 
 pedition, Smith and Fitzpatrick were robbed of their horses in 
 Green Eiver valley; the place where the robbery took place 
 still bears the name of Horse Creek. We are not informed 
 whether the horses were stolen through the instigation and 
 management of Eose; it is not improbable, for such was the 
 
 * See Astoria. 
 
133 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 perfidy he had intended to practise on a former occasion 
 toward Mr. Hunt and his party. 
 
 The last anecdote we have of Rose is from an Indian trader. 
 When General Atkinson made his military expedition up the 
 Missouri, in 1825, to protect the fur trade, he held a conference 
 with the Crow nation, at which Rose figured as Indian dig- 
 nitary and Crow interpreter. The military were stationed at 
 some httle distance from the scene of the ‘^big talk.” While 
 the general and the chiefs were smoking pipes and making 
 speeches, the ofiicers, supposing all was friendly, left the 
 troops and drew near the scene of ceremonial. Some of the 
 more knowing Crows, perceiving this, stole quietly to the 
 camp, and, unobserved, contrived to stop the touch-holes of 
 the field pieces with dirt. Shortly after a misunderstanding 
 occurred in the conference ; some of the Indians knowing the 
 cannon to be useless, became insolent. A tumult arose. In 
 the confusion Colonel O’Fallan snapped a pistol in the face of 
 a brave, and knocked him down with the butt end. The 
 Crows were all in a fury. A chance medley fight was on the 
 point of taking place, when Rose, his natural sympathies as a 
 white man suddenly recurring, broke the stock of his fusee 
 over the head of a Crow warrior, and laid so vigorously about 
 him with the barrel, that he soon put the whole throng to 
 flight. Luckily, as no lives had been lost, this sturdy rib- 
 roasting calmed the fury of the Crows, and the tumult ended 
 without serious consequences. 
 
 What was the ultimate fate of this vagabond hero is not 
 distinctly known. Some report him to have fallen a victim to 
 disease, brought on by his licentious life ; others assert that he 
 was murdered in a feud among the Crows. After all, his resi- 
 dence among these savages, and the influence he acquired over 
 them had, for a time, some beneficial effects. He is said, not 
 merely to have rendered them more formidable to the Black- 
 feet, but to have opened their eyes to the pohcy of cultivating 
 the friendship of the white men. 
 
 After Rose’s death, his policy continued to be cultivated, 
 with indifferent success, by Arapooish, the chief already men- 
 tioned, who had been his great friend, and whose character he 
 had contributed to develope. This sagacious chief endeavored, 
 on every occasion, to restrain the predatory propensities of his 
 tribe when directed against the white men. ‘‘If we keep 
 friends with them,” said he, “we have nothing to fear from 
 the Blackfeet, and can rule the mountains.” Arapooish pre^ 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 139 
 
 tended to be a great ‘‘medicine man;” a character among the 
 Indians which is a compound of priest, doctor, prophet, and 
 conjurer. He carried about with him a tame eagle, as his 
 “medicine,” or familiar. With the white men, he acknowl- 
 edged that this was all charlatanism; but said it was necessary, 
 to give him weight and influence among his people. 
 
 Mr. Eobert Campbell, from whom we have most of these 
 facts, in the course of one of his trapping expeditions, was 
 quartered in the village of Arapooish, and a guest in the lodge 
 of the chieftain. He had collected a large quantity of furs, 
 and, fearful of being plundered, deposited but a part in the 
 lodge of the chief ; the rest he buried in a cache. One night, 
 Arapooish came into the lodge with a cloudy brow, and seated 
 himself for a time without saying a word. At length, turning 
 to Campbell, “You have more furs with you,” said he, “ than 
 you have brought into my lodge?” 
 
 “ I have,” replied Campbell. 
 
 “Where are they?” 
 
 Campbell knew the uselessness of any prevarication with an 
 Indian; and the importance of complete frankness. He de- 
 scribed the exact place where he had concealed his peltries. 
 
 “ ’Tis well,” replied Arapooish; “you speak straight. It i& 
 just as you say. But your cache has been robbed. Go and 
 see how many skins have been taken from it.” 
 
 Campbell examined the cache, and estimated his loss to be 
 about one hundred and fifty beaver skins. Arapooish now 
 summoned a meeting of the village. He bitterly reproached 
 his people for robbing a stranger who had confided to their 
 honor; and commanded that whoever had taken the skins, 
 should bring them back ; declaring that, as Campbell was his 
 guest and inmate of his lodge, he would not eat nor drink until 
 every skin was restored to him. 
 
 The meeting broke up, and every one dispersed. Arapooish 
 now charged Campbell to give neither reward nor thanks to 
 any one who should bring in the beaver skins, but to keep 
 count as they were delivered. 
 
 In a little while the skins began to make their appearance, a 
 few at a time; they were laid down in the lodge, and those 
 who brought them departed without saying a word. The day 
 passed away. Arapooish sat in one corner of his lodge, 
 wrapped up in his robe, scarcely moving a muscle of his coun- 
 tenance. When night arrived, he demanded if all the skins had 
 been brought in. Above a hundred had been given up, and 
 
140 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 Campbell expressed himself contented. Not so the Crow chief- 
 tain. He fasted all that night, nor tasted a drop of water. In 
 the morning some more skins were brought in, and continued 
 to come, one and two at a time, throughout the day ; until but 
 a few were wanting to make the number complete. Campbell 
 was now anxious to put an end to this fasting of the old chief, 
 and again declared that he was perfectly satisfied. Arapooish 
 demanded what number of skins were yet wanting. On being 
 told, he whispered to some of his people, who disappeared. 
 After a time the number were brought in, though it was evi- 
 dent they were not any of the skins that had been stolen, but 
 others gleaned in the village. 
 
 ‘‘Is aU right now?” demanded Arapooish. 
 
 “All is right,” replied Campbell. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Good ! Now bring me meat and drink !” 
 
 When they were alone together, Arapooish had a conversa- 
 tion with his guest. 
 
 “When you come another time among the Crows,” said he, 
 “ don’t hide your goods ; trust to them and they will not wrong 
 you. Put your goods in the lodge of a chief, and they are 
 sacred; hide them in a cache, and any one who finds will steal 
 them. My people have now given up your goods for my sake ; 
 but there are some foolish young men in the village who may 
 be disposed to be troublesome. Don’t linger, therefore, but 
 pack your horses and be off.” 
 
 Campbell took his advice, and made his way safely out of the 
 Crow country. He has ever since maintained that the Crows 
 are not so black as they are painted. “Trust to their honor,” 
 ?ays he, ‘ ‘ and you are safe ; trust to their honesty, and they 
 will steal the hair off your head.” 
 
 Having given these few preliminary particulars, we will re 
 sume the course of our narrative. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 142 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 DEPARTURE FROM GREEN RIVER VALLEY — POPO AGIE— ITS COURSE 
 —THE RIVERS INTO WHICH IT RUNS— SCENERY OF THE BLUFFS 
 — THE GREAT TAR SPRING— VOLCANIC TRACTS IN THE CROW 
 COUNTRY— BURNING MOUNTAIN OF POWDER RIVER— SULPHUR 
 SPRINGS— HIDDEN FIRES— COLTER’S HELL —WIND RIVER— CAMP- 
 BELL’S PARTY — FITZPATRICK AND HIS TRAPPERS — CAPTAIN 
 STEWART, AN AMATEUR TRAVELLER — NATHANIEL WYETH — 
 ANECDOTES OF HIS EXPEDITION TO THE FAR WEST— DISASTER 
 OF CAMPBELL’S PARTY— A UNION OF BANDS — THE BAD PASS — 
 THE RAPIDS— DEPARTURE OF FITZPATRICK — EMBARKATION OF 
 PELTRIES — WYETH AND HIS BULL BOAT — ADVENTURES OF CAP- 
 TAIN BONNEVILLE IN THE BIGHORN MOUNTAINS— ADVENTURES 
 IN THE PLAIN— TRACES OF INDIANS— TRAVELLING PRECAUTIONS 
 —DANGERS OF MAKING A SMOKE— THE RENDEZVOUS. 
 
 On the 25 th of July Captain Bonneville struck his tents, and 
 set out on his route for the Bighorn, at the head of a party of 
 fifty-six men, including those who were to embark with Cerre. 
 Crossing the Green Kiver valley, he proceeded along the south 
 point of the Wind River range of mountains, and soon fell 
 upon the track of Mr. Robert Campbell’s party, which had pre- 
 ceded him by a day. This he pursued, until he perceived that 
 it led down the banks of the Sweet Water to the southeast. 
 As this was different from his proposed direction, he left it; 
 and turning to the northeast, soon came upon the waters of the 
 Popo Agie. This stream takes its rise in the Wind River 
 Mountains. Its name, hke most Indian names, is characteris- 
 tic. Popo, in the Crow language signifying head ; and Agie, 
 river. It is the head of a long river, extending from the south 
 end of the Wind River Mountains in a northeast direction, 
 until it falls into the Yellowstone. Its course is generally 
 through plains, but is twice crossed by chains of mountains ; 
 the first called the Littlehorn, the second the Bighorn. After 
 it has forced its way through the first chain, it is called the 
 Horn River. After the second chain it is called the Bighorn 
 River. Its passage through this last chain is rough and vio- 
 lent ; making repeated falls, and rushing down long and furioufi 
 
143 ADVENTURES OF CAPIAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 rapids, which threaten destruction to the navigator; though a 
 hardy trapper is said to have shot down them in a canoe. At 
 the foot of these rapids, is the head of navigation, where it was 
 the intention of the parties to construct boats, and embark. 
 
 Proceeding down along the Popo Agie, Captain Bonneville 
 came again in full view of the “Bluffs,” as they are called, ex- 
 tending from the base of the Wind Eiver Mountains far away 
 to the east, and presenting to the eye a confusion of hills and 
 cliffs of red sandstone, some peaked and angular, some round, 
 some broken into crags and precipices, and pOed up in fantas- 
 tic masses ; but all naked and sterile. There appeared to be no 
 soil favorable to vegetation, nothing but coarse gravel; yet, 
 over all this isolated, barren landscape, were diffused such at- 
 mospherical tints and hues, as to blend the vrhole into har- 
 mony and beauty. 
 
 In this neighborhood, the captain made search for “the 
 great Tar Spring,” one of the wonders of the mountains; the 
 medicinal properties of which, he had heard extravagantly 
 lauded by the trappers. After a toilsome search, he found it 
 at the foot of a sand-bluff, a little to the east of the Wind 
 River Mountains; where it exuded in a small stream of the 
 color and consistency of tar. The men immediately hastened 
 to collect a quantity of it, to use as an ointment for the galled 
 backs of their horses, and as a balsam for their own pains and 
 aches. From the description given of it, it is evidently the 
 bituminous oil, called petroleum or naphtha, which forms a 
 principal ingredient in the potent medicine called British Oil. 
 It is found in various parts of Europe and Asia, in several of 
 the West India islands, and in some places of the United 
 States. In the State of New York, it is called Seneca Oil, from 
 being found near the Seneca lake. 
 
 The Crow country has other natural curiosities, which are 
 held in superstitious awe by the Indians, and considered great 
 marvels by the trappers. Such is the Burning Mountain, on 
 Powder River, abounding with anthracite coal. Here the 
 earth is hot and cracked ; in many places emitting smoke and 
 sulphurous vapors, as if covering concealed fires. A volcanic 
 tract of similar character is found on Stinking River, one of the 
 tributaries of the Bighorn, which takes its unhappy name from 
 the odor derived from sulphurous springs and streams. This 
 last mentioned place was first discovered by Colter, a hunter 
 belonging to Lewis and Clarke’s exploring party, who came 
 upon it in the course of his lonely wanderings, and gave such 
 
advent HUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. I 4 :] 
 
 an account of its gloomy terrors, its hidden fires, smoking pits, 
 noxious streams, and the all-pervading “smell of brimstone,’' 
 that it received, and has ever since retained among trappers, 
 the name of “Colter’s Hell!” 
 
 Resuming his descent along the left bank of the Popo Agio, 
 Captain Bonneville soon reached the plains ; where he found 
 several large streams entering from the west. Among these 
 was Wind River, which gives its name to the mountains 
 among which it takes its rise. This is one of the most impor- 
 tant streams of the Crow country. The river being much 
 swollen. Captain Bonneville halted at its mouth, and sent out 
 scouts to look for a fording place. While thus encamped, he 
 beheld in the course of the afternoon a long line of horsemen 
 descending the slope of the hills on the opposite side of the 
 Popo Agie. His first idea was, that they were Indians ; he 
 soon discovered, however, that they were white men, and, by 
 the long line of pack-horses, ascertained them to he the con- 
 voy of Campbell, which, having descended the Sweet Water, 
 was now on its way to the Horn River. 
 
 The two parties came together two or three days afterward, 
 on the 4th of August, after having passed through the gap of 
 the Littlehorn Mountain. In company with Campell’s convoy, 
 was a trapping party of the Rocky Mountain Company, headed 
 by Fitzpatrick; who, after Campbell’s embarkation on the 
 Bighorn, was to take charge of all the horses, and proceed on 
 a trapping campaign. There were, moreover, two chance 
 companions in the rival camp. One was Captain Stewart, of 
 the British army, a gentleman of noble connections, who was 
 amusing himself by a wandering tour in the Far West; in the 
 course of which, he had lived in hunter’s style ; accompanying 
 various bands of traders, trappers, and Indians ; and manifest- 
 ing that relish for the wilderness that belongs to men of game 
 spirit. 
 
 The other casual inmate of Mr. Campbell’s camp was Mr. 
 Nathaniel Wyeth; the self-same leader of the band of New 
 England salmon fishers, with whom we parted company in the 
 valley of Pierre’s Hole, after the battle with the Blackfeet. A 
 few days after that affair, he again set out from the rendez- 
 vous in company with Milton Sublette and his brigade of trap- 
 pers. On his march, he visited the battle ground, and pene- 
 trated to the deserted fort of the Blackfeet in the midst of the 
 wood. It was a dismal scene. The fort was strewed with the 
 liiouldering bodies of the slain ; while vultures soared aloft, or 
 
144 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 sat brooding on the trees around; and Indian dogs howled 
 about the place, as if bewailing the death of their masters, 
 Wyeth travelled for a considerable distance to the southwest, 
 in company with Milton Sublette, when they separated ; and 
 the former, with eleven men, the remnant of his band, pushed 
 on for Snake River; kept down the course of that eventful 
 stream; traversed the Blue Mountains, trapping beaver occa- 
 sionally by the way, and finally, after hardships of all kinds, 
 arrived on the 29th of October, at Vancouver, on the Colum 
 bia, the main factory of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 
 
 He experienced hospitable treatment at the hands of the 
 agents of that company; but his men, heartily tired of wan^ 
 dering in the wilderness, or tempted by other prospects, re- 
 fused, for the most part, to continue any longer in his service. 
 Some set off for the Sandwich Islands ; some entered into other 
 employ. Wyeth found, too, that a great part of the goods he 
 had brought with him were unfitted for the Indian trade ; in a 
 word, his expedition, undertaken entirely on his own resources, 
 proved a failure. He lost everything invested in it, but his 
 hopes. These were as strong as ever. He took note of every- 
 thing, therefore, that could be of service to him in the further 
 prosecution of his project ; collected all the information within 
 his reach, and then set off, accompanied by merely two men, 
 on his return journey across the continent. He had got thus 
 far ‘‘by hook and by crook,” a mode in which a New England 
 man can make his way all over the world, and through all 
 kinds of difficulties, and was now bound for Boston; in full 
 confidence of being able to form a company for the salmon 
 fishery and fur trade of the Columbia. 
 
 The party of Mr. Campbell had met with a disaster in the 
 course of their route from the Sweet Water. Three or four of 
 the men, who were reconnoitring the country in advance of the 
 main body, were visited one night in their camp, by fifteen or 
 twenty Shoshonies. Considering this tribe as perfectly friend- 
 ly, they received them in the most cordial and confiding man- 
 ner. In the course of the night, the man on guard near the 
 horses fell sound asleep ; upon which a Shoshonie shot him in 
 the head, and nearly killed him. The savages then made off 
 with the horses, leaving the rest of the party to find their way 
 to the main body on foot. 
 
 The rival companies of Captain Bonneville and Mr. Camp- 
 bell, thus fortuitously brought together, now prosecuted their 
 journey in great good fellowship; forming a joint camp of 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. I45 
 
 about a hundred men. The captain, however, began to enter- 
 tain doubts that Fitzpatrick and his trappers, who kept pro- 
 found silence as to their future movements, intended to hunt 
 the same grounds which he had selected for his autumnal cam- 
 paign ; which lay to the west of the Horn Fiver, on its tributary 
 streams. In the course of liis march, therefore, he secretly de- 
 tached a small party of trappers, to make their way to those 
 hunting grounds, while he continued on with the main body ; 
 appointing a rendezvous at the next full moon, about the 28 th 
 of August, at a place called the Medicine Lodge. 
 
 On reaching the second chain, called the Bighorn Mountains, 
 where the river forced its impetuous way through a precipi- 
 tous defile, with cascades and rapids, the travellers were 
 obliged to leave its banks, and traverse the mounta'ns by a 
 rugged and frightful route emphatically called the “ Bad Pass.” 
 Descending the opposite side, they again made for the river 
 banks; and about the middle of August, reached the point 
 below the rapids, where the river becomes navigable for boats. 
 Here Captain Bonneville detached a second party of trappers, 
 consisting of ten men, to seek and join those whom he had de- 
 tached while on the route, appointing for them the same ren- 
 dezvous (at the Medicine Lodge), on the 28 th of August. 
 
 All hands now set to work to construct ‘‘bull boats,” as they 
 are technically called ; a light, fragile kind of bark, character- 
 istic of the expedients and inventions of the wilderness ; being 
 formed of buffalo skins, stretched on frames. They are some- 
 times, also, called skin boats. Wyeth was the first ready; and, 
 with his usual promptness and hardihood launched his frail 
 bark singly, on this wild and hazardous voyage, down an 
 almost interminable succession of rivers, winding through 
 countries teeming with savage hordes. Milton Sublette, his 
 former fellow traveller, and his companion in the battle scenes 
 of Pierre’s Hole, took passage in his boat. His crew consisted 
 of two white men, and two Indians. We shall hear further of 
 Wyeth, and his wild voyage in the course of our wanderings 
 about the Far West. 
 
 The remaining parties soon completed their several arma- 
 ments. That of Captain BonneviUe was composed of three bull 
 boats, in which he embarked all his peltries, giving them in 
 charge of Mr. Cerre, with a party of thirty-six men. Mr. Camp- 
 bell took command of his own boats, and the little squadrons 
 were soon gliding down the bright current of the Bighorn. 
 
 The secret precautions which Captain Bonneville had taken 
 
146 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 to throw his men first into the trapping ground west of the 
 Bighorn, were, probably, superfluous. It did not appear that 
 Fitzpatrick had intended to hunt in that direction. The mo- 
 ment Mr. Campbell and his men embarked with the peltries 
 Fitzpatrick took charge of all the horses, amounting to above 
 a hundred, and struck off to the east, to trap upon Littlehorn, 
 Powder and Tongue Rivers. He was accompanied by Captain 
 Stewart, who' was desirous of having a range about the Crow 
 country. Of the adventures they met with in that region of 
 v^agabonds and horse stealers, we shall have something to re- 
 late hereafter. 
 
 Captain Bonneville being now left to prosecute his trapping 
 campaign without rivalry, set out, on the 17th of August, for 
 the rendezvous at Medicine Lodge. He had but four men re- 
 maining with him, and forty-six horses to take care of; with 
 these he had to make his way over mountain and plain, through 
 a marauding, horse-stealing region, full of peril for a numerous 
 cavalcade so slightly manned. He addressed himself to his 
 difficult journey, however, with his usual alacrity of spirit. 
 
 In the afternoon of his first day’s journey, on drawing near 
 to the Bighorn Mountain, on the summit of which he intended 
 to encamp for the night, he observed, to his disquiet, a cloud 
 of smoke rising from its base. He came to a halt, and watched 
 it anxiously. It was very irregular ; sometimes it would almost 
 die away ; and then would mount up in heavy volumes. There 
 was, apparently, a large party encamped there ; probably, some 
 ruffian horde of Blackfeet. At any rate, it would not do for so 
 small a nmnber of men, with so numerous a cavalcade, to ven- 
 ture within sight of any wandering tribe. Captain Bonne- 
 ville and his companions, therefore, avoided this dangerous 
 neighborhood ; and, proceeding with extreme caution, reached 
 the summit of the mountain, apparently without being discov- 
 ered. Here they found a deserted Blackfoot fort, in which 
 they ensconced themselves ; disposed of everything as securely 
 as possible, and passed the night without molestation. Early 
 the next morning they descended the south side of the moun- 
 tain into the great plain extending between it and the Little- 
 horn range. Here they soon came upon numerous footprints, 
 and the carcasses of buffaloes; by which they knew there 
 must be Indians not far off. Captain Bonneville now began to 
 feel solicitude about the two small parties of trappers which he 
 had detached, lest the Indians should have come upon them 
 before they had united their forces. But he felt still more 
 
ADVENT UlUm OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. M'l 
 
 solicitude about his own party; for it was hardly to be expected 
 he could traverse these naked plains undiscovered, when In- 
 dians were abroad; and should he be discovered, his chance 
 would be a desperate one. Everything now depended upon 
 the greatest circumspection. It was dangerous to discharge a 
 gun or light a fire, or make the least noise, where such quick- 
 eared and quick-sighted enemies were at hand. In the course 
 of the day they saw indubitable signs that the buffalo had been 
 roaming there in great numbers, and had recently been fright- 
 ened away. That night they encamped with the greatest care; 
 and threw up a strong breastwork for their protection. 
 
 For the two succeeding days they pressed forward rapidly, 
 but cautiously, across the great plain; fording the tributary 
 streams of the Horn River; encamping one night among 
 thickets; the next, on an island; meeting, repeatedly, with 
 traces of Indians; and now and then, in passing through a 
 defile experiencing alarms that induced them to cock their 
 rifies. 
 
 On the last day of their march hunger got the better of theii 
 caution, and they shot a fine buffalo bull at the risk of being 
 betrayed by the report. They did not halt to make a meal, 
 but carried the meat on with them to the place of rendezvous, 
 the Medicine Lodge, where they arrived safely, in the evening, 
 celebrated their arrival by a hearty supper. 
 
 The next morning they erected a strong pen for the horses, 
 and a fortress of logs for themselves ; and continued to observe 
 the greatest caution. Their cooking was all done at mid-day, 
 when the fire makes no glare, and a moderate smoke cannot 
 he perceived at any great distance. In the morning and the 
 evening when the wind is lulled, the smoke rises perpendicu- 
 larly in a blue column, or floats in light clouds above the tree- 
 tops, and can be discovered from afar. 
 
 In this way the little party remained for several days, cam 
 tiously encamped, until, on the 29th of August, the two detach- 
 ments they had been expecting, arrived together at the ren- 
 dezvous. They, as usual; had their several tales of adventures 
 to relate to the captain, which we will furnish to the reader in 
 the next chapter. 
 
148 ADVENTURES OF CAP! AIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF THE PARTY OF TEN — THE BALAAMITE MULE — A 
 DEAD POINT— THE MYSTERIOUS ELKS— A NIGHT ATTACK— A RE' 
 TREAT— TRAVELLING UNDER AN ALARM — A JOYFUL MEETING- 
 ADVENTURES OF THE OTHER PARTY — A DECOY ELK — RETREAT 
 TO AN ISLAND— A SAVAGE DANCE OF TRIUMPH— ARRIVAL AT 
 WIND RIVER. 
 
 The adventures of the detachment of ten are the first in 
 order. These trappers, when they separated from Captain 
 Bonneville at the place where the furs were embarked, pro 
 ceeded to the foot of the Bighorn Mountain, and having en- 
 camped, one of them mounted his mule and went out to set his 
 trap in a neighboring stream. He had not proceeded far when 
 his steed came to a full stop. The trapper kicked and cud- 
 gelled, but to every blow and kick the mule snorted and kicked 
 up, but still refused to budge an inch. The rider now cast his 
 eyes warily around in search oi some cause for this demur, 
 when, to his dismay, he discovered an Indian fort within gun- 
 shot distance, lowering through the twilight. In a twinkling 
 he wheeled about ; his mule now seemed as eager to get on as 
 himself, and in a few moments brought him, clattering with 
 his traps, among his comrades. He was jeered at for his 
 alacrity in retreating; his report was treated as a false alarm; 
 his brother trappers contented themselves with reconnoitring 
 the fort at a distance, and pronounced that it was deserted. 
 
 As night set in, the usual precaution, enjoined by Captain 
 Bonneville on his men was observed. The horses were brought 
 in and tied, and a guard stationed over them. This done, the 
 men wrapped themselves in their blankets, stretched them- 
 selves before the fire, and being fatigued with a long day's 
 march, and gorged with a hearty supper, were soon in a pro^ 
 found sleep. 
 
 The camp fires gradually died away; all was dark and silem; 
 the sentinel stationed to watch the horses had marched as far, 
 and supped as heartily as any of his companions, and while 
 they snored, he began to nod at his post. After a time, a low 
 trampling noise reached his ear. He half opened his closing 
 
adventures OE captain BONNEVILLE. 149 
 
 eyes, and beheld two or three elks moving about the lodges, 
 picking, and smelling, and grazing here and there. The sight 
 of elk within the purlieus of the camp caused some little sur- 
 prise ; but, having had his supper, he cared not for elk meat, 
 and, suffering them to graze about unmolested, soon relapsed 
 into a doze. 
 
 Suddenly, before daybreak, a discharge of firearms, and a 
 struggle and tramp of horses, made every one start to his feet. 
 The first move was to secure the horses. Some were gone ; 
 others were struggling, and kicking, and trembling, for there 
 was a horrible uproar of whoops, and yells, and firearms. 
 Several trappers stole quietly from the camp, and succeeded in 
 driving m the horses which had broken away ; the rest were 
 tethered still more strongly. A breastwork was thrown up of 
 saddles, baggage, and camp furniture, and all hands waited 
 anxiously for daylight. The Indians, in the meantime, col- 
 lected on a neighboring height, kept up the most horrible cla- 
 mor, in hopes of striking a panic into the camp, or frightening 
 off the horses. When the day dawned, the trappers attacked 
 them briskly and drove them to some distance. A desultory 
 fire was kept up for an hour, when the Indians, seeing nothing 
 was to be gained, gave uj' the contest and retired. They 
 proved to be a war party of Blackfeet, who, while in search of 
 the Crow tribe, had fallen upon the trail of Captain Bonne- 
 ville on the Popo Agie, and dogged him to the Bighorn ; but 
 had been completely baffled by his vigilance. They had then 
 waylaid the present detachment, and were actually housed in 
 perfect silence within their fort, when the mule of the trapper 
 made such a dead point. 
 
 The savages went off uttering the wildest denunciations of 
 hostility, mingled with opprobrious terms in broken English, 
 and gesticulations of the most insulting kind. 
 
 In this melee, one white man was wounded, and two horses 
 were killed. On preparing the morning’s meal, however, a 
 number of cups, knives, and other articles were missing, which 
 had, doubtless, been carried off by the fictitious elk, during the 
 slumber of the very sagacious sentinel. 
 
 As the Indians had gone off in the direction which the trap- 
 pers had intended to travel, the latter changed their route, and 
 pushed forward rapidly through the “Bad Pass,” nor halted 
 until night; when, supposing themselves out of the reach of 
 the enemy, they contented themselves with tying up their 
 horses and posting a guard. They had scarce laid down to 
 
150 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 sleep, when a dog strayed into the camp with a small pack of 
 moccasins tied upon his back ; for dogs are made to carry bur- 
 dens among the Indians. The sentinel, more knowing than he 
 of the preceding night, awoke his companions and reported the 
 circumstance. It was evident that Indians were at hand. All 
 were instantly at work ; a strong pen was soon constructed for 
 the horses, after completing which, they resumed their slum 
 bers with the composure of men long inured to dangers. 
 
 In the next night, the prowling of dogs about the camp and 
 various suspicious noises showed that Indians were still hover^ 
 ing about them. Hurrying on by long marches, they at length 
 fell upon a trail, which, with the experienced eye of veteran 
 woodmen, they soon discovered to be that of the party of trap- 
 pers detached by Captain Bonneville when on his march, and 
 whi(^h they were sent to join. They lilcewise ascertained from 
 various signs that this party had suffered some maltreatment 
 from the Indians. They now pursued the trail with intense 
 anxiety; it carried them to the banks of the stream called 
 the Gray Bull, and down along its course, until they came to 
 where it empties into the Horn Kiver. Here, to their great joy, 
 they discovered the comrades of whom they were in search, all 
 strongly fortified, and in a state of great watchfulness and 
 anxiety. 
 
 We now take up the adventures of this first detachment of 
 trappei'S. These men, after parting with the main body under 
 Captain BonneviUe, had proceeded slowly for several days up 
 the course of the river, trapping beaver as they went. One 
 morning, as they were about to visit their traps, one of the 
 camp keepers pointed to a fine elk, grazing at a distance, and 
 requested them to shoot it. Three of the trappers started off 
 for the purpose. In passing a thicket, they were fired upon by 
 some savages in ambush, and at the same time, the pretended 
 elk, throwing off his hide and his horn, started forth an Indian 
 warrior. 
 
 One of the three trappers had been brought down by the 
 volley ; the others fled to the camp, and all hands, seizing up 
 whatever they could carry off, retreated to a small island in 
 the river, and took refuge among the willows. Here they 
 were soon joined by their comrade who had fallen, but who 
 had merely been wounded in the neck. 
 
 In the meantime the Indians took possession of the deserted 
 camp, with all the traps, accoutrements, and horses. While 
 they were busy among the spoils, a solitary trapper, who had 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTaTN BONNEVILLh. ] 5 '| 
 
 been absent at his work, came sauntering to the camp witli his 
 traps on his back. He had approached near by when an In 
 dian came forward and motioned him to keep away ; at the 
 same moment, he was perceived by his comrades on the island, 
 and warned of his danger with loud cries. The poor fellow 
 stood for a moment, bewildered and aghast, then dropping hi., 
 traps, wheeled and made off at full speed, quickened by a 
 sportive voUey which the Indians rattled after him. 
 
 In high good humor with their easy triumph the savages 
 now formed a circle round the fire and performed a war dance, 
 with the unlucky trappers for rueful spectators. This done, 
 emboldened by what they considered cowardice on the part of 
 the white men, they neglected their usual mode of bush-fight- 
 ing, and advanced openly within twenty paces of the willows. 
 A sharp volley from the trappers brought them to a sudden 
 halt, and laid three of them breathless. The chief, who had 
 stationed himself on an eminence to direct all the movements 
 of his people, seeing three of his warriors laid low, ordered the 
 rest to retire. They immediately did so, and the whole band 
 soon disappeared behind a point of woods, carrying off with 
 them the horses, traps, and the greater part of the baggage. 
 
 It was just after this misfortune that the party of ten men 
 discovered this forlorn band of trappers in a fortress which 
 they had thrown up after their disaster. They were so per- 
 fectly dismayed, that they could not be induced even to go in 
 quest of their traps, which they had set in a neighboring 
 stream. The two parties now joined their forces, and made 
 their way without further misfortune, to the rendezvous. 
 
 Captain Bonneville perceived from the reports of these par- 
 ties, as well as from what he had observed himself in his re- 
 cent march, that he was in a neighborhood teeming with 
 danger. Two wandering Snake Indians, also, who visited the 
 camp, assured him that there were two large bands of Crows 
 marching rapidly upon him. He broke up his encampment, 
 therefore, on the first of September, made his way to thej 
 south, across the Littlehorn Mountain, until he reached Wind 
 River, and then turning westward, moved slowly up the banks 
 of that stream, giving time for his men to trap as he proceeded. 
 As it was not in the plan of the present hunting campaign to 
 go near the caches on Green River, and as the trappers were 
 in want of traps to replace those they had lost. Captain Bonne- 
 ville undertook to visit the caches, and procure a supply. To 
 accompany him in this hazardous expedition, which would 
 
152 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 take him through the defiles of the Wind Eiver Mountains, 
 and up the Green River valley, he took but three men ; the 
 main party were to continue on trapping up toward the head 
 of Wind River, near which he was to rejoin them, just about 
 the place where that stream issues from the mountains. We 
 shall accompany the captain on his adventurous errand 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE SETS OUT FOR GREEN RIVER VALLEY— 
 JOURNEY UP THE POPO AGIE— BUFFALOES— THE STARING 
 WHITE BEARS— THE SMOKE — THE WARM SPRINGS — ATTEMPT TO 
 TRAVERSE THE WIND RIVER MOUNTAINS— THE GREAT SLOPE — 
 MOUNTAIN DELLS AND CHASMS — CRYSTAL LAKES — ASCENT OF 
 A SNOWY PEAK— SUBLIME PROSPECT— A PANORAMA— “ LES 
 DIGNES DE PITIE,” OR WILD MEN OF THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Having forded Wind River a little above its mouth. Captain 
 Bonneville and his three companions proceeded across a grav- 
 elly plain, until they fell upon the Popo Agie, up the left bank 
 of which they held their course, nearly in a southerly direc- 
 tion. Here they came upon numerous droves of buffalo, and 
 halted for the purpose of procuring a supply of beef. As the 
 hunters were stealing cautiously to get within shot of the 
 game, two small white bears suddenly presented themselves 
 in their path, and, rising upon their hind legs, contemplated 
 them for some time with a whimsically solemn gaze. The 
 hunters remained motionless; whereupon the bears, having 
 apparently satisfied their curiosity, lowered themselves upon 
 all fours, and began to withdraw. The hunters now advanced, 
 upon which the bears turned, rose again upon their haunches, 
 and repeated their serio-comic examination. This was re- 
 peated several times, until the hunters, piqued at their un- 
 mannerly staring, rebuked it with a discharge of their rifles. 
 The bears made an awkward bound or two, as if wounded, and 
 then walked off with great gravity, seeming to commune to- 
 gether, and every now and then turning to take another look 
 at the hunters. It was well for the latter that the bears were 
 but half grown, and had not yet acquired the ferocity of their 
 kind. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 153 
 
 The buffalo were somewhat startled at the report of the fire- 
 arms; but the hunters succeeded in killing a couple of fine 
 cows, and, having secured the best of the meat, continued for- 
 ward until some time after dark, when, encamping in a large 
 thicket of willows, they made a great fire, roasted buffalo beef 
 enough for half a score, disposed of the whole of it wdth keen 
 relish and high glee, and then “turned in” for the night and 
 slept soundly, like weary and well-fed hunters. 
 
 At daylight they were in the saddle again, and skirted along 
 the river, passing through fresh grassy meadows, and a succes- 
 sion of beautiful groves of willows and cotton- wood. Toward 
 evening. Captain Bonneville observed smoke at a distance ris- 
 ing from among hills, directly in the route he was pursuing. 
 Apprehensive of some hostile band, he concealed the horses in 
 a thicket, and, accompanied by one of his men, crawled cau- 
 tiously up a height, from which he could overlook the scene 
 of danger. Here, with a spy-glass, he reconnoitred the sur- 
 rounding country, but not a lodge nor fire, not a man, horse, 
 nor dog, was to be discovered ; in short, the smoke which had 
 caused such alarm proved to be the vapor from several warm, 
 or rather hot springs of considerable magnitude, pouring forth 
 streams in every direction over a bottom of white clay. One 
 of the springs was about twenty-five yards in diameter, and so 
 deep that the water was of a bright green color. 
 
 They were now advancing diagonally upon the chain of Wind 
 Eiver Mountains, which lay betv/een them and Green River 
 valley. To coast round their southern points would be a wide 
 circuit; whereas, could they force their way through them, 
 they might proceed in a straight line. The mountains were 
 lofty, with snowy peaks and cragged sides ; it was hoped, how- 
 ever, that some practicable defile might be found. They at- 
 tempted, accordingly, to penetrate the mountains by following 
 up one of the branches of the Popo Agie, but soon found them- 
 selves in the midst of stupendous crags and precipices, that 
 barred all progress. Retracing their steps, and falling back 
 upon the river, they consulted where to make another attempt. 
 They were too close beneath the mountains to scan them gener- 
 ally, but they now recollected having noticed, from the plain, 
 a beautiful slope, rising at an angle of about thirty degrees, 
 and apparently without any break, until it reached the snow7,r 
 region. Seeking this gentle acclivity, they began to ascend it 
 with alacrity, trusting to find at the top one of those elevated 
 plains which prevail among the Rocky Mountains, The slope 
 
154 ADVENTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 was covered with coarse gravel, interspersed with plates oi 
 freestone. They attained the summit with some toil, but 
 found, instead of a level, or rather undulating plain, that they 
 were on the brink of a deep and precipitous ravine, from the 
 bottom of which rose a second slope, similar to the one they 
 had just ascended. Down into this profound ravine they made 
 their way by a rugged path, or rather fissure of the rocks, and 
 then labored up the second slope. They gained the summit 
 only to find themselves on another ravine, and now perceived 
 that this vast mountain, which had presented such a sloping 
 and even side to the distant beholder on the plain, was shagged 
 by frightful precipices, and seamed with longitudinal chasms, 
 deep and dangerous. 
 
 In one of these wild dells they passed the night, and slept 
 soundly and sweetly after their fatigues. Two days more ot 
 arduous chmbing and scrambling only served to admit them 
 into the heart of this mountainous and awful solitude ; where 
 difficulties increased as they proceeded. Sometimes they 
 scrambled from rock to rock, up the bed of some mountain 
 stream, dashing its bright way down to the plains; sometimes 
 they availed themselves of the paths made by the deer and the 
 mountain sheep, which, however, often took them to the brink 
 of fearful precipices, or led to rugged defiles, impassable for 
 Gheir horses. At one place they were obliged to slide their 
 horses down the face of a rock, in which attempt some of the 
 poor animals lost their footing, rolled to the bottom, and came 
 near being dashed to pieces. 
 
 In the afternoon of the second day, the travellers attained 
 one of the elevated valleys locked up in this singular bed of 
 mountains. Here were two bright and beautiful little lalies, 
 set like mirrors in the midst, of stern and rocky heights, and 
 surrounded by grassy meadows, inexpressibly refreshing to 
 the eye. These probably were among the sources of those 
 mighty streams which take their rise among these moun- 
 tains, and wander hundreds of miles through the plains. 
 
 In the green pastures bordering upon these lakes, the trav- 
 ellers halted to repose, and to give their weary horses time 
 to crop the sweet and tender herbage. They had now as- 
 scended to a great height above the level of the plains, yet 
 they beheld huge crags of granite piled one upon another, 
 and beetling like battlements far above them. While two of 
 the men remained in the camp with the horses. Captain 
 Bonneville, accompanied by the other men, set out to clinab 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 15 g 
 
 a neighboring height, hoping to gain a commanding pros- 
 pect, and discern some practicable route through this stu- 
 pendous labyrinth. After much toil, he reached the summit 
 of a lofty cliff, but it was only to behold gigantic peaks ris- 
 ing all around, and towering far into the snowy regions of 
 the atmosphere. Selecting one which appeared to be the 
 highest, he crossed a narrow intervening valley, and began 
 to scale it. He soon found that he had undertaken a tre- 
 mendous task ; but the pride of man is never more obstinate 
 than when climbing mountains. The ascent was so steep 
 and rugged that he and his companions were frequently 
 obliged to clamber on hands and knees, with their guns slung 
 upon their backs. Frequently, exhausted with fatigue, and 
 dripping with perspiration, they threw themselves upon the 
 snow, and took handfuls of it to allay their parching thirst. 
 At one place they even stripped off their coats and hung 
 them upon the bushes, and thus lightly clad, proceeded to 
 scramble over these eternal snows. As they ascended still 
 higher, there were cool breezes that refreshed and braced 
 them, and springing with new ardor to their task, they at 
 length attained the summit. 
 
 Here a scene burst upon the view of Captain Bonneville, that 
 for a time astonished and overwhelmed him with its immensi- 
 ty. He stood, in fact, upon that dividing ridge which Indians 
 regard as the crest of the world ; and on each side of which 
 the landscape may be said to decline to the two cardinal oceans 
 of the globe. Whichever way he turned his eye, it was con- 
 founded by the vastness and variety of objects. Beneath him, 
 the Rocky Mountains seemed to open all their secret recesses ; 
 deep, solemn valleys; treasured lakes; dreary passes; rugged 
 defiles and foaming torrents ; while beyond their savage pre- 
 cincts, the eye was lost in an almost immeasurable landscape, 
 stretching on every side into dim and hazy distance, like the 
 expanse of a summer’s sea. Whichever way he looked, he be- 
 held vast plains glimmering with refiected sunshine ; mighty 
 streams wandering on their shining course toward either ocean, 
 and snowy mountains, chain beyond chain, and peak beyond 
 peak, till they melted like clouds into the horizon. For a time, 
 the Indian fable seemed realized ; he had attained that height 
 from which the Blackfoot warrior, after death, first catches a 
 view of the land of souls, and beholds the happy hunting 
 grounds spread out below him, brightening with the abodes of 
 the free and generous spirits, The captain stood for a long 
 
156 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 while gazing upon this scene, lost in a crowd of vague and in 
 definite ideas and sensations. A long-drawn inspiration at 
 length relieved him from this enthralment of the mind, and he 
 began to analyze the parts of this vast panorama. A simple 
 enumeration of a few of its features may give some idea of its 
 collective grandeur and magnificence. 
 
 The peak on which the captain had taken his stand com- 
 manded the whole Wind River chain; which, in fact, may 
 rather be considered one immense mountairi, broken into 
 snowy peaks and lateral spurs, and seamed with narrow val- 
 leys. Some of these valleys glittered with silver lakes and 
 gushing streams ; the fountain-heads, as it were, of the mighty 
 tributaries to the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Beyond the 
 snowy peaks, to the south, and far, far below the mountain 
 range, the gentle river, called the Sweet Water, was seen pur- 
 suing its tranquil way through the rugged regions of the Black 
 HiUs. In the east, the head-waters of Wind River wandered 
 through a plain, until, mingling in one powerful current, they 
 forced their way through the range of Horn Mountains, and 
 were lost to view. To the north were caught glimpses of the 
 upper streams of the Yellowstone, that great tributary of the 
 Missouri. In another direction were to be seen some of the 
 sources of the Oregon, or Columbia, flowing to the northwest, 
 past those towering landmarks, the Three Tetons, and pouring 
 down into the great lava plain ; while, almost at the captain’s 
 feet, the Green River, or Colorado of the West, set forth on its 
 wandering pilgrimage to the Gulf of California ; at first a mere 
 mountain torrent, dashing northward over crag and precipice, 
 in a succession of cascades, and tumbling into the plain, where, 
 expanding into an ample river, it circled away to the south, 
 and after alternately shining out and disappearing in the 
 mazes of the vast landscape, was finally lost in a horizon of 
 mountains. The day was calm and cloudless, and the atmos- 
 phere so pure that objects were discernible at an astonishing 
 distance. The whole of this immense area was inclosed by an 
 outer range of shadowy peaks, some of them faintly marked 
 on the horizon, which seemed to wall it in from the rest of the 
 earth. 
 
 It is to be regretted that Captain Bonneville had no instra 
 ments with him with which to ascertain the altitude of this 
 peak. He gives it as his opinion, that it is the loftiest point of 
 the North American continent ; but of this we have no satis- 
 factory proof. It is certain that the Rocky Mountains are of 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 157 
 
 an altitude vastly superior to what was formerly supposed. 
 We rather incline to the opinion that the highest peak is fur- 
 ther to the northward, and is the same measured by Mr. 
 Thompson, surveyor to the Northwest Company; who, by the 
 joint means of the barometer and trigonometric measurement, 
 ascertained it to be twenty-five thousand feet above the level 
 of the sea; an elevation only inferior to that of the Him- 
 alayas.* 
 
 For a long time, Captain Bonneville remained gazing around 
 him with wonder and enthusiasm; ^t length the chill and 
 wintry winds, whirling about the snow-clad height, admon- 
 ished him to descend. He soon regained the spot where he 
 and his companions had thrown off their coats, which were 
 now gladly resumed, and, retracing their course down the 
 peak, they safely rejoined their companions on the border of 
 the lake. 
 
 Notwithstanding the savage and almost inaccessible nature 
 of these mountains, they have their inhabitants. As one of 
 the party was out hunting, he came upon the track of a man, 
 in a lonely valley. Following it up, he reached the brow of a 
 cliff, whence he beheld three savages running across the valley 
 below him. He fired his gun to call their attention, hoping to 
 induce them to turn back. They only fled the faster, and dis- 
 appeared among the rocks. The hunter returned and reported 
 what he had seen. Captain Bonneville at once concluded tha^ 
 these belonged to a kind of hermit race, scanty in number, 
 that inhabit the highest and most inaccessible fastnesses. 
 They speak the Shoshonie language, and probably are offsets 
 from that tribe, though they have peculiarities of their own 
 which distinguish them from all other Indians. They are 
 miserably poor, own no horses, and are destitute of every con- 
 venience to be derived from an intercourse with the whites. 
 Their weapons are bows and stone-pointed arrows, with which 
 they hunt the deer, the elk, and the mountain sheep. They 
 are to be found scattered about the countries of the Shoshonie, 
 Flathead, Crow, and Blackf eet tribes ; but their residences are 
 always in lonely places, and the clefts of the rocks. 
 
 Their footsteps are often seen by the trappers in the high 
 and solitary valleys among the mountains, and the smokes of 
 their fires descried among the precipices, but they themselves 
 
 ♦See the letter of Professor Renwick, in the Appendix to Astoria. 
 
158 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 are rarely met with, and still more rarely brought to a parley, 
 so great is their shyness and their dread of strangers. 
 
 As iheir poverty offers no temptation to the marauder, and 
 as they are inoffensive in their habits, they are never the ob- 
 jects of warfare; should one of them, however, fall into the 
 hands of a war party, he is sure to be made a sacrifice, for the 
 sake of that savage trophy, a scalp, and that barbarous cere- 
 mony, a scalp dance. These forlorn beings, forming a mere 
 link between human nature and the brute, have been looked 
 down upon with pity and contempt by the creole trappers, 
 who have given them the appellation of “les dignes de pitie,” 
 or “the objects of pity.” They appear more worthy to be 
 called the wild men of the mountains. 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A. RETROGRADE MOVE — CHANNEL OF A MOUNTAIN TORRENT — 
 ALPINE SCENERY— CASCADES— BEAVER VALLEYS — BEAVERS AT 
 WORK — THEIR ARCHITECTURE— THEIR MODES OP FELLING TREES 
 —MODE OF TRAPPING BEAVER— CONTESTS OF SKILL — ^A BEAVER 
 “up to trap”— arrival at the GREEN RIVER CACHES. 
 
 The view from the snowy peak of the Wind River Moun- 
 tain, while it had excited Captain Bonneville’s enthusiasm, 
 had satisfied him that it would be useless to force a passage 
 westward, through multiplying barriers of cliffs and preci- 
 pices. Turning his face eastward, therefore, he endeavored 
 to regain the plains, intending to make the circuit round the 
 southern point of the mountain. To descend and to extricate 
 himself from the heart of this rock-piled wilderness, was al- 
 most as difficult as to penetrate it. Taking his course down 
 the ravine of a tumbling stream, the commencement of some 
 future river, he descended from rock to rock, and shelf to 
 shelf, between stupendous cliffs and beetling crags that 
 sprang up to the sky. Often he had to cross and recross 
 the rushing torrent, as it wound foaming and roaring down 
 its broken channel, or was walled by perpendicular precipices; 
 and imminent was the hazard of breaking the legs of the 
 horses in the clefts and fissures of slippery rocks. The whole 
 scenery of this deep ravine was of Alpine wildness and sub- 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 159 
 
 limity. Sometimes the travellers passed beneath cascades 
 which pitched from such lofty heights that the water fell 
 into the stream like heavy rain. In other places torrents 
 came tumbling from crag to crag, dashing into foam and 
 spray, and making tremendous din and uproar. 
 
 On the second day of their descent, the travellers, having 
 got beyond the steepest pitch of the mountains, came to where 
 jh'' deep and rugged ravine began occasionally to expand into 
 small levels or valleys, and the stream to assume for short 
 intervals a more peaceful character. Here not merely the 
 river itself, but every rivulet flowing into it, was dammed 
 up by communities of industrious beavers, so as to inundate 
 the neighborhood and make continual swamps. 
 
 During a mid-day halt in one of these beaver valleys, Cap- 
 tain Bonneville left his companions, and strolled down the 
 course of the stream to reconnoitre. He had not proceeded 
 far when he came to a beaver pond, and caught a glimpse 
 of one of its painstaking inhabitants busily at work upon the 
 dam. The curiosity of the captain was aroused, to behold the 
 mode of operating of this far-famed architect; he moved for- 
 ward, therefore, with the utmost caution, parting the branches 
 of the water willows without making any noise, imtil having 
 attained a position commanding a view of the whole pond, he 
 stretched himself flat on the ground, and watched the sohtary 
 workman. In a httle while three others appeared at the head 
 of the dam, bringing sticks and bushes. With these they pro- 
 ceeded directly to the barrier, which Captain Bonneville per- 
 ceived was in need of repair. Having deposited their loads 
 upon the broken part, they dived into the water, and shortly 
 reappeared at the surface. Each now brought a quantity of 
 mud, with which he would plaster the sticks and bushes just 
 deposited. This kind of masonry was continued for some 
 time, repeated supplies of wood and mud being brought, and 
 treated in the same manner. This done, the industrious 
 beavers indulged in a little recreation, chasing each other 
 about the pond, dodging and whisking about on the surface, 
 or diving to the bottom; and in their frolic often slapping 
 their tails on the water with a loud clacking sound. While 
 they were thus amusing themselves, another of the fraternity 
 made his appearance, and looked gravely on their sports for 
 some time, without offering to join in them. He then climbed 
 the bank close to where the captain was concealed, and, rear- 
 ing himself on his hind quarters, in a sitting position, put his 
 
160 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 fore paws against a young pine tree, and began to cut the bark 
 with his teeth. At times he would tear oil a small piece, and 
 holding it between his paws, and retaining his sedentary posi- 
 tion, would feed himself with it, after the fashion of a monkey. 
 The object of the beaver, however, was evidently to cut down 
 the tree ; and he was proceeding with his work, when he was 
 alarmed by the approach of Captain Bonneville’s men, who, 
 feeling anxious at the protracted absence of their leader, were 
 coming in search of him. At the sound of their voices, all the 
 beavers, busy as well as idle, dived at once beneath the sur- 
 face, and were no more to be seen. Captain Bonneville re- 
 gretted this interruption. He had heard much of the sagacity 
 of the beaver in cutting down trees, in which, it is said, they 
 manage to make them fall into the water, and in such a posi- 
 tion and direction as may be most favorable for conveyance to 
 the desired point. In the present instance, the tree was a tall, 
 straight pine, and as it grew perpendicularly, and there was 
 not a breath of air stirring, the beaver could have felled it in 
 any direction he pleased, if really capable of exercising a dis- 
 cretion in the matter. He was evidently engaged in “belting” 
 the tree, and his first incision had been on the side nearest to 
 the water. 
 
 Captain Bonneville, however, discredits, on the whole, the 
 alleged sagacity of the beaver in this particular, and thinks 
 the animal has no other aim than to get the tree down, without 
 any of the subtle calculation as to its mode or direction of fall- 
 ing. This attribute, he thinks, has been ascribed to them from 
 the circumstance that most trees growing near water-courses, 
 either lean bodily toward the stream, or stretch their largest 
 limbs in that direction, to benefit by the space, the fight, and 
 the air to be found there. The beaver, of course, attacks those 
 trees which are nearest at hand, and on the banks of the 
 stream or pond. He makes incisions round them, or, in tech- 
 nical phrase, belts them with his teeth, and when they fall, 
 they naturally take the direction in which their trunks or 
 branches preponderate. 
 
 “I have often,” says Captain Bonneville, “seen trees 
 measuring eighteen inches in diameter, at the places where 
 they had been cut through by the beaver, but they lay in 
 all directions, and often very inconveniently for the after 
 purposes of the animal. In fact, so little ingenuity do they 
 at times display in this particular, that at one of our camps on 
 Snake River a beaver was found with his head wedged into 
 
ADVENTURES OV CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 161 
 
 the cut which he had made, the tree having fallen upon him 
 and held him prisoner until he died.” 
 
 Great choice, according to the captain, is certainly displayed 
 by the beaver in selecting the wood which is to furnish bark 
 for winter provision. The whole beaver household, old and 
 young, set out upon this business, and will often make long 
 journeys before they are suited. Sometimes they cut down 
 trees of the largest size and then cull the branches, the bark of 
 which is most to their taste. These they cut into lengths of 
 about three feet, convey them to the water, and float them to 
 their lodges, where they are stored away for winter. They 
 are studious of cleanliness and comfort in their lodges, and 
 after their repasts, will carry out the sticks from which they 
 have eaten the bark, and throw them into the current beyond 
 the barrier. They are jealous, too, of their territories, and 
 extremely pugnacious, never permitting a strange beaver to 
 enter their premises, and often fighting with such virulence as 
 almost to tear each other to pieces. In the spring, which is 
 the breeding season, the male leaves the female at home, and 
 sets off on a tour of pleasure, rambling often to a gTeat 
 distance, recreating himself in every clear and quiet expanse 
 of water on his way, and climbing the banks occasionally to 
 feast upon the tender sprouts of the young willows. As sum- 
 mer advances, he gives up his bachelor rambles, and bethink- 
 ing himself of housekeeping duties, returns home to his mate 
 and his new progeny, and marshals them all for the foraging 
 expedition in quest of winter provisions. 
 
 After having shown the public spirit of this praiseworthy 
 httle animal as a member of a community, and his amiable and 
 exemplary conduct as the father of a family, we grieve to re- 
 cord the perils with which he is environed, and the snares set 
 for him and his painstaking household. 
 
 Practice, says Captain Bonneville, has given such a quick- 
 ness of eye to the experienced trapper in all that relates to his 
 pursuit, that he can detect the slightest sign of beaver, how- 
 ever wild ; and although the lodge may be concealed by close 
 thickets and overhanging willows, he can generally, at a single 
 giance, make an accurate guess at the number of its inmates. 
 He now goes to work to set his trap; planting it upon the 
 shore, in some chosen place, two or three inches below the sur- 
 face of the water, and secures it by a chain to a pole sot deep 
 in the mud. A small twig is then stripped of its bai‘k, and one 
 end is dipped in the ‘‘medicine,” as the trappers term the 
 
162 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 
 
 peculiar bait which they employ. This end of the stick rises 
 about four inches above the surface of the water, the other end 
 is planted between the jaws of the trap. The beaver, possess- 
 ing an acute sense of smell, is soon attracted by the odor of the 
 bait. As he raises his nose toward it, his foot is caught in the 
 trap. In his fright he throws a somerset into the deep watex% 
 The trap being fastened to the pole, resists all his efforts to 
 drag it to the shore ; the chain by which it is fastened defies 
 his teeth ; he struggles for a time, and at length sinks to the 
 bottom and is drowned. 
 
 Upon rocky bottoms, where it is not possible to plant the 
 pole, it is thrown into the stream. The beaver when entrapped 
 often gets fastened by the chain to sunken logs or floating 
 timber ; if he gets to shore, he is entangled in the thickets of 
 brook willows. In such cases, however, it costs the trapper 
 diligent search, and sometimes a bout at swimming, before he 
 finds his game. 
 
 Occasionally it happens that several members of a beaver 
 family are trapped in succession. The survivors then become 
 extremely shy, and can scarcely be ‘‘brought to medicine,” to 
 use the trapper’s phrase, for “taking the bait.” In such case, 
 the trapper gives up the use of the bait and conceals his traps 
 in the usual paths and crossing-places of the household. The 
 beaver no'w being completely “up to trap,” approaches them 
 cautiously, and springs them ingeniously with a stick. At 
 other times he turns the traps bottom upward by the same 
 means, and occasionally even drags them to the barrier and 
 conceals them in the mud. The trapper now give up the con- 
 test of ingenuity, and shouldering his traps marches off, ad- 
 mitting that he is not yet “up to beaver.” 
 
 On the day following Captain Bonneville’s supervision of the 
 industrious and frolicsome community of beavers, of which he 
 has given so edifying an account, he succeeded in extricating 
 himself from the Wind Eiver Mountains, and regaining the 
 plain to the eastward, made a great, bend to the south, so as to 
 go round the bases of the mountains, and arrived, without 
 further incident of importance, at the old place of rendezvous 
 in Green River valley, on the 17th of September. 
 
 He found the caches, in which he had deposited his superflu- 
 ous goods and equipments, all safe, and having opened and 
 taken from them the necessary supplies, he closed them again, 
 taking care to obliterate all traces that might betray them to 
 the keen eyes of Indian marauders. 
 
ADVEJS'TUUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 133 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 ROUTE TOWARD WIND RIVER — DANGEROUS NEIGHBORHOOD - 
 ALARMS AND PRECAUTIONS — A SHAM ENCAMPMENT — APPARITION 
 OP AN INDIAN SPY — MIDNIGHT MOVE— A MOUNTAIN DEFILE— 
 THE WIND RIVER VALLEY— TRACKING A PARTY— DESERTED 
 CAMPS— SYMPTOMS OP CROWS — MEETING OP COMRADES— A 
 TRAPPER ENTRAPPED— CROW PLEASANTRY— CROW SPIES— A 
 DECAMPMENT— RETURN TO GREEN RIVER VALLEY— MEETING 
 WITH FITZPATRICK’S PARTY— THEIR ADVENTURES AMONG THE 
 CROWS — ORTHODOX CROWS. 
 
 On the 18 th of September, Captain Bonneville and his three 
 companions set out, bright and early, to rejoin the main party, 
 from which they had parted on Wind River. Their route lay 
 up the Green River valley, with that stream on their right 
 hand, and beyond it the range of Wind River ]\Iountains. At 
 the head of the valley thoy were to pass through a defile which 
 would bring them out beyond the northern end of ’lese moun- 
 tains, to the head of Wind River; where they expected to meet 
 the main party according to arrangement. 
 
 We have already adverted to the dangerous nature of this 
 neighborhood, infested by roving bands of Crows and Black- 
 feet, to whom the numerous defiles and passes of the country 
 afford capital places for ambush and surprise. The travellers, 
 therefore, kept a vigilant eye upon everything that might give 
 intimation of lurking danger. 
 
 About two hours after mid-day, as they reached the summit 
 of a hill, they discovered buffalo on the plain below, running 
 in every direction. One of the men, too, fancied he heard the 
 report of a gun. It was concluded, therefore, that there was 
 some party of Indians below, hunting the buffalo. 
 
 The horses were immediately concealed in a narrow ravine ; 
 and the captain, mounting an eminence, but concealing him- 
 self from view, reconnoitred the whole neighborhood with a 
 telescope. Not an Indian was to be seen; so, after halting 
 about an hour, he resumed his journey. Convinced, however, 
 that he was in a dangerous neighborhood, he advanced with 
 the utmost caution; winding his way through hollows and 
 
164- ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 ravines, and avoiding, as much as possible, any open tract or 
 rising ground that might betray his little party to the watchful 
 eye of an Indian scout. 
 
 Arriving at length at the edge of the open meadow land 
 bordering on the river, he again observed the buffalo, as far as 
 he could see, scampering in great alarm. Once more conceal- 
 ing the horses, he and his companions remained for a long 
 time watching the various groups of the animals, as each 
 caught the panic and started off; but they sought in vain to 
 discover the cause. 
 
 They were now about to enter the mountain defile, at the' 
 head of Green Eiver valley, where they might be waylaid and 
 attacked ; they therefore arranged the packs on their horses, in 
 the manner most secure and convenient for sudden flight, 
 should such be necessary. This done, they again set forward, 
 keeping the most anxious look-out in every direction. 
 
 It was now drawing toward evening; but they could not 
 think of encamping for the night in a place so full of danger. 
 Captain Bonneville, therefore, determined to halt about sum 
 set, kindle a Are, as if for encampment, cook and eat supper ; 
 but, as soon as it was sufficiently dark, to make a rapid move 
 for the summit of the mountain, and seek some secluded spot 
 for their night’s lodgings. 
 
 Accordingly, as the sun went down, the little party came to 
 a halt, made a large fire, spitted their buffalo meat on wooden 
 sticks, and, when sufficiently roasted, planted the savory 
 viands before them; cutting off huge slices with their hunting 
 knives, and supping with a hunter’s appetite. The light of 
 their fire would not fail, as they knew, to attract the attention 
 of any Indian horde in the neighborhood ; but they trusted to 
 be off and away before any prowlers could reach the place. 
 
 ‘ While they were supping thus hastily, however, one of their 
 party suddenly started up and shouted ‘‘ Indians 1” All were 
 instantly on their feet, with their rifles in their hands ; but 
 could see no enemy. The man, however, declared that he 
 had seen an Indian advancing cautiously along the trail which 
 they had made in coming to the encampment, who, the mo- 
 ment he was perceived had thrown himself on the ground and 
 disappeared. He urged Captain Bonneville instantly to de- 
 camp. The captain, however, took the matter more coolly. 
 The single fact that the Indian had endeavored to hide himself, 
 convinced him that he was not one of a party on the advance 
 to make an attack. He was, probably, some scout, who had 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 165 
 
 followed up their trail until he came in sight of their fire. 
 He would, in such case, return, and report what he had seen 
 .0 his companions. These, supposing the white men had en- 
 camped for the night, would keep aloof until very late, when 
 all should he asleep. They would then, according to Indian 
 tactics, make their stealthy approaches, and place themselves 
 in fimbush around, preparatory to their attack at the usual 
 hour of daylight. 
 
 Such was Captain Bonneville’s conclusion; in consequence 
 of which, he counselled his men to keep perfectly quiet, and 
 act as if free from alarm, until the proper time arrived for a 
 movement. They, accordingly, continued their repast with 
 pretended appetite and jollity; and then trimmed and re- 
 plenished their fire, as if .for a bivouac. As soon, however, as 
 the night had completely set in, they left their fire blazing, 
 walked quietly among the willows, and then leaping into their 
 saddles, made off as noiselessly as possible. In proportion ^ 
 they left the point of danger behind them, they relaxed in 
 their rigid and anxious taciturnity, and began to joke at the 
 expense of their enemy, whom they pictured to themselves 
 mousing in the neighborhood of their deserted fire, waiting for 
 the proper time of attack, and preparing for a grand dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 About midnight, feeling satisfied that they had gained a 
 secure distance, they posted one of their number to keep 
 watch, in case the enemy should follow on their trail, and 
 then, turning abruptly into a dense and matted thicket of 
 willows, halted for the night at the foot of the mountain, in- 
 stead of making for the summit, as they had originally in- 
 tended. 
 
 A trapper in the wilderness, like a sailor on the ocean, 
 snatches morsels of enjoyment in the midst of trouble, and 
 sleeps soundly when surrounded by danger. The little party 
 now made their arrangements for sleep with perfect calmness; 
 they did not venture to make a fire and cook, it is true, though 
 generally done by hunters whenever they come to a halt, and 
 have provisions. They comforted themselves, however, by 
 smoking a tranquil pipe ; and then calHng in the watch, and 
 turning loose the horses, stretched themselves on their pallets, 
 agreed that whoever should first awake should rouse the rest, 
 and in a little while were all in as sound sleep as though in the 
 midst of a fortress. 
 
 A little before day, they were all on the alert; it was the 
 
166 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 / 
 
 hour for Indian maraud. A sentinel was immediately de- 
 tached, to post himself at a little distance on their trail, and 
 give the alarm, should he see or hear an enemy. 
 
 With the first blink of dawn the rest sought the horses, 
 brought them to the camp, and tied them up until an hoar 
 after sunrise, when, the sentinel having reported that all was 
 weU, they sprang once more into their saddles, and pursued 
 the most covert and secret paths up the mountain, avoiding 
 the direct route. 
 
 At noon they halted and made a hasty repast, and then bent 
 their course so as to regain the route from which they had 
 diverged. They were now made sensible of the danger from 
 which they had just escaped. There were tracks of Indians, 
 who had evidently been in pursuit of them, but had recently 
 returned, bafiied in their search. 
 
 Trusting that they had now got a fair start, and could not 
 be overtaken before night, even in case the Indians should re- 
 new the chase, they pushed briskly forward, and did not en- 
 camp until late, when they cautiously concealed themselves in 
 a secure nook of the moimtains. 
 
 Without any further alarm, they made their way to the 
 head-waters of Wind River; and reached the neighborhood in 
 which they had appointed the rendezvous with their com- 
 panions. It was within the precincts of the Crow country; 
 the Wind River valley being one of the favorite haunts of that 
 restless tribe. After much searching. Captain Bonneville came 
 upon a trail which had evidently been made by his main party. 
 It was so old, however, that he feared his people might have 
 left the neighborhood; driven off, perhaps, by some of those 
 war parties * which were on the prowl. He continued his 
 search with great anxiety, and no httle fatigue ; for his horses 
 were jaded, and almost crippled, by their forced marches and 
 scramblings through rocky defiles. 
 
 On the following day, about noon. Captain Bonneville came 
 upon a deserted camp of his people, from which they had evi- 
 dently turned back; but he could find no signs to indicate 
 why they had done so ; whether they had met with misfortune, 
 or molestation, or in what direction they had gone. He was 
 now more than ever perplexed. 
 
 On the following day he resumed his march with increasing 
 armety. The feet of his horses had by this time become so 
 worn and wounded by the rocks, that he had to make mocca- 
 riins for them of buffalo hide. About noon he came to another 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 167 
 
 deserted camp of his men ; but soon after lost their trail. After 
 great search, he once more found it, turning in a southerly di- 
 rection along the eastern bases of the Wind River Mountains, 
 which towered to the right. He now pushed forward with all 
 possible speed, in hopes of overtaking the party. At night he 
 slept at another of their camps, from which they had but re- 
 cently departed. When the day dawned sufficiently to distin- 
 guish objects, he perceived the danger that must be dogging 
 the heels of his main party. All about the camp were traces 
 of Indians who must have been prowling about it at the time 
 his people had passed the night there ; and who must still be 
 hovering about them. Convinced now that the main party 
 could not be at any great distance, he mounted a scout on the 
 best horse, and sent him forward to overtake them, to warn 
 them of their danger, and to order them to halt, until he should 
 rejoin them. 
 
 In the afternoon, to his great jo^^, he met the scout return- 
 ing, with six comrades from the main party, leading fresh 
 horses for his accommodation ; and on the following day (Sep- 
 tember 25th), all hands were once more reunited, after a sepa- 
 ration of nearly three weeks. Their meeting was hearty and 
 joyous ; for they had both experienced dangers and perplexi- 
 ties. 
 
 The main party, in pursuing their course up the Wind River 
 valley, had been dogged the whole way by a war party of 
 Crows. In one place they had been fired upon, but without 
 injury; in another place, one of their horses had been cut 
 loose, and carried off. At length, they were so closely beset 
 that they were obliged to make a retrograde move, lest they 
 should be surprised and overcome. This was the movement 
 which had caused such perplexity to Captain Bonneville. 
 
 The whole party now remained encamped for two or three 
 days, to give repose to both men and horses. Some of the 
 trappers, however, pursued their vocations about the neigh- 
 boring streams. While one of them was setting his traps, he 
 heard the tramp of horses, and looking up, beheld a party of 
 Crow braves moving along at no great distance, with a consid- 
 erable cavalcade. The trapper hastened to conceal himself, 
 but was discerned by the quick eye of the savages. With 
 whoops and yells, they dragged him from his hiding-place, 
 flourished over his head their tomahawks and scalping-knives, 
 and for a time the poor trapper gave himself up for lost. For- 
 tunately the Crows were in a jocose rather than a sanguinary 
 
lG-8 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 mood. They amused themselves heartily for a while at the 
 expense of his terrors, and after having played off divers 
 Crow pranks and pleasantries, suffered him to depart un- 
 harmed. It is true, they stripped him completely, one tak- 
 ing his horse, another his gun, a third his traps, a fourth 
 his blanket, and so on through all his accoutrements, and even 
 his clothing, until he was stark naked; but then they genen 
 ously made him a present of an old tattered buffalo robe, and 
 dismissed him, with many v, omplimentary speeches and much 
 laughter. When the trapper returned to the camp in such 
 sorry plight, he was greeted v/ith peals of laughter from his 
 comrades, and seemed more mortified by the style in which he 
 had been dismissed, than rejoiced at escaping with his life. A 
 circumstance which he related to Captain Bonneville gave 
 some insight into the cause of this extreme jocularity on the 
 part of the Crows. They had evidently had a run of luck, 
 and, like winning gamblers, were in high good humor. Among 
 twenty-six fine horses, and some mules, which composed their 
 cavalcade, the trapper recognized a number which had be- 
 longed to Fitzpatrick’s brigade, when they parted company on 
 the Bighorn. It was supposed, therefore, that these vaga- 
 bonds had been on his trail, and robbed him of part of his 
 cavalry. 
 
 On the day following this affair, three Crows came into Cap- 
 tain Bonneville’s camp, with the most easy, innocent, if not 
 impudent air imaginable ; walking about with that impertur- 
 bable coolness and unconcern in which the Indian rivals the 
 fine gentleman. As they had not been of the set which 
 stripped the trapper, though evidently of the same band, 
 they were not molested. Indeed, Captain Bonneville treated 
 them with his usual kindness and hospitality ; permitting them 
 to remain all day in the camp, and even to pass the night 
 there. At the same time, however, he caused a strict watch 
 to be maintained on all their movements and at night sta- 
 tioned an armed sentinel near them. The Crows remonstrated 
 against the latter being armed. This only made the captain 
 suspect them to be spies, who meditated treachery; he re- 
 doubled, therefore, his precautions. At the same time he as- 
 sured his guests that while they were perfectly welcome to the 
 shelter and comfort of his camp, yet, should any of their tribe 
 venture to approach during the night, they would certainly be 
 shot, which would be a very unfortunate circumstance, and 
 much to be deplored. To the latter remark they fully as- 
 
ADVKNTUllKS OP CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 169 
 
 rented, and shortly afterward commenced a wild song or 
 chant, which they kept up for a long time, and in which 
 they very probably gave their friends, who might be prowl- 
 ing round the camp, notice that the white men wera on the 
 alert. The night passed away without disturbance. In the 
 morning the three Crow guests were very pressing that Cap- 
 tain Bonneville and his party should accompany them to their 
 camp, which they said was close by. Instead of accepting 
 their invitation Captain Bonneville took his departure with 
 aU possible dispatch, eager to be out of the vicinity of such 
 a piratical horde; nor did he relax the diligence of his march 
 until, on the second day, he reached the banks of the Sweet 
 Water, beyond the limits of the Crow country, and a heavy 
 fall of snow had obliterated all traces of his course. 
 
 He now continued on for some few days, at a slower pace, 
 round the point of the mountain tov^ard Green River, and ar- 
 rived once more at the caches, on the 14th of October. 
 
 Here they found traces of the band of Indians who had 
 hunted them in the defile toward the head-waters of Wind 
 River. Having lost all trace of them on their way over the 
 mountains, they had turned and followed back their trail 
 down the Green River valley to the caches. One of these 
 they had discovered and broken open, but it fortunately con- 
 tained nothing but fragments of old iron, which they had 
 scattered about in all directions, and then departed. In ex- 
 amining their deserted camp. Captain Bonneville discovered 
 that it numbered thirty-nine fires, and had more reason than 
 ever to congratulate himself on having escaped the clutches of 
 such a formidable band of freebooters. 
 
 He now turned his course southward, under cover of the 
 mountains, and on the 25th of October reached Liberge’s Ford, 
 a tributary of the Colorado, w^here he came suddenly upon the 
 trail of this same war party, which had crossed the stream so 
 recently that the banks were yet wet with, the water that had 
 been splashed upon them. To judge from their tracks, they 
 could not be less than three hundred warriors, and apparently 
 of the Crow nation. 
 
 Captain Bonneville was extremely uneasy lest this over- 
 powering force should come upon him in some place where he 
 would not have the means of fortifying himself promptly. He 
 now moved toward Hane’s Fork, another tributary of the Col- 
 orado, where he encamped, and remained during the 26th of 
 October. Seeing a large cloud of smoke to the south, he sup- 
 
170 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 posed it to arise from some encampment of Shoshonies, and 
 sent scouts to procure information, and to purchase a lodge. 
 It was, in fact, a band of Shoshonies, but with them were en- 
 camped Fitzpatrick and his party of trappers. That active 
 leader had an eventful story to relate of his fortunes in the 
 country of the Crows. After parting with Captain Bonneville 
 on the banks of the Bighorn, he made for the west, to trap 
 upon Powder and Tongue Eivers. He had between twenty 
 and thirty men with him, and about one hundred horses. So 
 large a cavalcade could not pass through the Crow country 
 without attracting the attention of its freebooting hordes. A 
 large band of Crows were soon on their traces, and came up 
 with them on the 5th of September, just as they had reached 
 Tongue River. The Crow chief came forward with great ap- 
 pearance of friendship, and proposed to Fitzpatrick that they 
 should encamp together. The latter, however, not having any 
 faith in Crows, declined the invitation, and pitched his camp 
 three miles off. He then rode over with two or three men, to 
 visit the Crow chief, by whom he was received with great ap- 
 parent cordiality. In the meantime, however, a party of 
 young braves, who considered them absolved by his distrust 
 from all scruples of honor, made a circuit privately, and 
 dashed into his encampment. Captain Stewart, who had re- 
 mained there in the absence of Fitzpatrick, behaved with great 
 spirit ; but the Crows were too numerous and active. They 
 had got possession of the camp, and soon made booty of every- 
 thing — carrying off all the horses. On their way back they 
 met Fitzpatrick returning to his camp ; and finished their ex- 
 ploit by rifling and nearly stripping him. 
 
 A negotiation took place between the plundered white men 
 and the triumphant Crows ; what eloquence and management 
 Fitzpatrick made use of we do not know, but he succeeded in 
 prevailing upon the Crow chieftain to return him his horses 
 and many of his traps, together with his rifles and a few 
 rounds of ammunition for each man. He then set out with all 
 speed to abandon the Crow country, before he should meet 
 with any fresh disasters. 
 
 After his departure, the consciences of some of the most 
 orthodox Crows pricked them sorely for having suffered such 
 a cavalcade to escape out of their hands. Anxious to wipe off 
 so foul a stigma on the reputation of the Crow nation, they 
 followed on his trail, nor quit hovering about him on his 
 march until they had stolen a number of his best horses and 
 
ADVENTURES OF O APT AIN BONNEVILLE. 171 
 
 mules. It was, doubtless, this same band which came upon 
 the lonely trapper on the Popo Agie, and generously gave him 
 an old buffalo robe in exchange for his rifle, his traps, and all 
 his accoutrements. With these anecdotes, we shall, for the 
 present, take our leave of the Crow country and its vagabond 
 chivalry. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVm. 
 
 L REGION OP NATURAL CURIOSITIES— THE PLAIN OP WHITE CLAY 
 — HOT SPRINGS— THE BEER SPRING— DEPARTURE TO SEEK THE 
 PREE TRAPPERS — PLAIN OP PORTNEUP — LAVA— CHASMS AND 
 GULLIES— BANNECK INDIANS — THEIR HUNT OP THE BUPPALO— 
 hunters’ PEAST — TRENCHER HEROES — BULLYING OP AN AB- 
 SENT POE— THE DAMP COMRADE — THE INDIAN SPY — MEETING 
 WITH HODGKISS — HIS ADVENTURES — POORDEVIL INDIANS — 
 TRIUMPH OP THE BANNECKS — BLACKFEET POLICY IN WAR. 
 
 Crossing an elevated ridge, Captain Bonneville now came 
 upon Bear River, which, from its source to its entrance into 
 the Great Salt Lake, describes the flgures of a horse-shoe. 
 One of the principal head waters of this river, although sup- 
 posed to abound with beaver, has never been visited by the 
 trapper; rising among rugged mountains, and being barri- 
 cadoed by fallen pine trees and tremendous precipices. 
 
 Proceeding down this river, the party encamped, on the 6th 
 of November, at the outlet of a lake about thirty miles long, 
 and from two to three miles in width, completely imbedded in 
 low ranges of mountains, and connected with Bear River by 
 an impassable swamp. It is called the Little Lake, to distin- 
 guish it from the great one of salt water. 
 
 On the 10th of November, Captain Bonneville visited a place 
 in the neighborhood which is quite a region of natural curiosi- 
 ties. An area of about half a mile square presents a level sur- 
 face of white clay or fuller’s earth, perfectly spotless, resem- 
 bling a great slab of Parian marble, or a sheet of dazzling 
 snow. The effect is strikingly beautiful at all times; in sum- 
 mer, when it is surrounded with verdure, or in autumn, when 
 it contrasts its bright immaculate surface with the withered 
 herbage. Seen from a discant eminence, it then shines like a 
 mirror, set in the brown landscape. Around this plain ar© 
 
172 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 clustered numerous springs of various sizes and temperatures. 
 One of them of scalding heat, boils furiously and incessantly, 
 rising to the height of two or three feet. In another place there 
 is an aperture in the earth from which rushes a column of 
 steam that forms a perpetual cloud. The ground for some dis- 
 tance around sounds hollow, and startles the solitary trapper, 
 as he hears the tramp of his horse giving the sound of a 
 muffled drum. He pictures to himself a mysterious gulf be- 
 low, a place of hidden fires, and gazes round him with awe and 
 uneasiness. 
 
 The most noted curiosity, however, of this singular region is 
 the Beer Spring, of which trappers give wonderful accounts. 
 They are said to turn aside from their route through the 
 country to drink of its waters, with as much eagerness as the 
 Arab seeks some famous weU of the desert. Captain Bonne 
 ville describes it as having the taste of beer. His men drant 
 it with avidity, and in copious draughts. It did not appear t( 
 him to possess any medicinal properties, or to produce anj 
 peculiar effects. The Indians, however, refuse to taste it, and 
 endeavor to persuade the white men from doing so. 
 
 We have heard this also called the Soda Spring, and de* 
 scribed as containing iron and sulphur. It probably possesses 
 some of the properties of the Ballston water. 
 
 The time had now arrived for Captain Bonneville to go in 
 quest of the party of free trappers, detached in the beginning 
 of July, under the command of Mr. Hodgkiss to trap upon the 
 head waters of Salmon Eiver. His intention was to unite 
 them with the party with which he was at present travelling, 
 that all might go into quarters together for the winter. Ac- 
 cordingly, on the 11th of November, he took a temporary 
 leave of his band, appointing a rendezvous on Snake River, 
 and, accompanied by three men, set out upon his journey. His 
 route lay across the plain of the Portneuf, a tributary stream 
 of Snake River, called after an unfortunate Canadian trapper 
 murdered by the Indians. The whole country through which 
 he passed, bore evidence of volcanic convulsions and confla- 
 grations in the olden time. Great masses of lava lay scattered 
 about in every direction : the crags and cliffs had apparently 
 been under the action of fire ; the rocks in some places seemed 
 to have been in a state of fusion ; the plain was rent and split 
 with deep chasms and gullies, some of which were partly filled 
 with lava. 
 
 They had not proceeded far, however, before they saw a 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. I73 
 
 party of horsemen galloping full tilt toward them. They 
 instantly turned, and made full speed for the covert of a 
 woody stream, to fortify themselves among the trees. The 
 Indians came to a halt, and one of them came forward alone. 
 He reached Captain Bonneville and his men just as they were 
 dismounting and about to post themselves. A few words 
 dispelled all uneasiness. It was a party of twenty-five Baiv 
 neck Indians, friendly to the whites, and they proposed, 
 through their envoy, that both parties should encamp to- 
 gether, and hunt the buffalo, of which they had discovered 
 several large herds hard by. Captain Bonneville cheerfully 
 assented to their proposition, being curious to see their man- 
 ner of hunting. 
 
 Both parties accordingly encamped together on a convenient 
 spot, and prepared for the hunt. The Indians first posted a 
 boy on a small hill near the camp, to keep a lookout for 
 enemies. The “runners,” then, as they are called, mounted 
 on fleet horses, and armed with bows and arrows, moved 
 slowly and cautiously toward the buffalo, keeping as much as 
 possible out of sight, in hollows and ravines. When within 
 a proper distance, a signal was given, and they all opened at 
 once like a pack of hounds, with a full chorus of yells, dashing 
 into the midst of the herds, and launching their arrows to the 
 right and left. The plain seemed absolutely to shake under 
 the tramp of the buffalo, as they scoured off. The cows in 
 headlong panic, the bulls furious with rage, uttering deep 
 roars, and occasionally turning with a desperate rush upon 
 their pursuers. Nothing could surpass the spirit, grace, and 
 dexterity, with which the Indians managed their horses; 
 wheehng and coursing among the affrighted herd, and launch- 
 ing their arrows with unerring aim. In the midst of the 
 apparent confusion, they selected their victims with perfect 
 judgment, generally aiming at the fattest of the cows, the 
 flesh of the bull being nearly worthless at this season of the 
 year. In a few minutes, each of the hunters had crippled 
 three or four cows. A single shot was sufficient for the pur- 
 pose, and the animal, once maimed, was left to be completely 
 dispatched at the end of the chase. Frequently a cow was 
 killed on the spot by a single arrow. In one instance. Captain 
 Bonneville saw an Indian shoot his arrow completely through 
 the body of a cow, so that it struck in the ground beyond. 
 The bulls, however, are not so easily killed as the cows, and 
 always cost the hunter several arrows, sometimes making 
 
174 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 battle upon the horses, and chasing them furiously, though 
 severely wounded, with the darts still sticking in their flesh. 
 
 The grand scamper of the hunt being over, the Indians 
 proceeded to dispatch the animals that had been disabled; 
 then cutting up the carcasses, they returned with loads of 
 meat to the camp, where the choicest pieces were soon roast- 
 ing before large fires, and a hunters’ feast succeeded ; at which 
 Captain Bonneville and his men were qualified, by previous 
 fasting, to perform their parts with great vigor. 
 
 Some men are said to wax valorous upon a full stomach, 
 and such seemed to be the case with the Banneck braves, 
 who, in proportion as they crammed themselves with buffalo 
 meat, grew stout of heart, until, the supper at an end, they 
 began to chant war songs, setting forth their mighty deeds, 
 and the victories they had gained over the Blackfeet. Warm- 
 ing with the theme, and inflating themselves with their own 
 eulogies, these magnanimous heroes of the trencher would 
 start up, advance a short distance beyond the fight of the 
 fires, and apostrophize most vehemently their Blackfeet 
 enemies, as though they had been within hearing. Ruffling 
 and swelling, and snorting, and slapping their breasts, and 
 brandishing their arms, they would vociferate all their ex- 
 ploits ; reminding the Blackfeet how they had drenched their 
 toY/ns in tears and blood; enumerate the blows they had 
 inflicted, the warriors they had slain, the scalps they had 
 brought off in triumph. Then, having said everything that 
 could stir a man’s spleen or pique his valor, they would dare 
 their imaginary hearers, now that the Bannecks were few in 
 number, to come and take their revenge — receiving no reply 
 to this valorous bravado, they would conclude by all kinds of 
 sneers and insults, deriding the Blackfeet for dastards and 
 poltroons, that dared not accept their challenge. Such is the 
 kind of swaggering and rhodomontade in which the ‘‘red 
 men” are prone to indulge in their vainglorious moments ; for, 
 with all their vaunted taciturnity, they are vehemently prone 
 at times to become eloquent about their exploits, and to sound 
 their own trumpet. 
 
 Having vented their valor in this fierce effervescence, the 
 Banneck braves gradually calmed down, lowered their crests, 
 smoothed their ruffled feathers, and betook themselves to 
 sleep, without placing a single guard over their camp; so that, 
 had the Blackfeet taken them at their word, but few of these 
 braggart her<^cis might have survived for any further boasting. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. Yit) 
 
 On the following morning, Captain Bonneville purchased a 
 supply of buffalo meat from his braggadocio friends; who, 
 with all their vaporing, were in fact a very forlorn horde, 
 destitute of firearms, and of almost everything that consti- 
 tutes riches in savage life. The bargain concluded, the Ban- 
 necks set off for their vOlage, which was situated, they said, 
 at the mouth of the Portneuf , and Captain Bonneville and his 
 companions shaped their course toward Snake Eiver. 
 
 Arrived on the banks of that river, he found it rapid and 
 boisterous, but not too deep to be forded. In traversing it, how- 
 ever, one of the horses was swept suddenly from his footing, 
 and his rider was flung from the saddle into the midst of the 
 stream. Both horse and horseman were extricated without any 
 damage, excepting that the latter was completely drenched, so 
 that it was necessary to kindle a fire to dry him. . While they 
 were thus occupied, one of the party looking up, perceived an 
 Indian scout cautiously reconnoitring them from the summit 
 of a neighboring hill. The moment he found himself discov- 
 ered, he disappeared behind the hill. From his furtive move- 
 ments, Captain Bonneville suspected him to be a scout from 
 the Blackfeet camp, and that he had gone to report what he 
 had seen to his companions. It would not do to loiter in such 
 a neighborhood, so the kindling of the fire was abandoned, the 
 drenched horseman mounted in dripping condition, and the 
 little band pushed forward directly into the plain, going at a 
 smart pace, until they had gained a considerable distance from 
 the place of supposed danger. Here encamping for the night, 
 in the midst of abundance of sage, or wormwood, which af- 
 forded fodder for their horses, they kindled a huge fire for the 
 benefit of their damp comrade, and then proceeded to prepare a 
 sumptuous supper of buffalo humps and ribs, and other choice 
 bits, which they had brought with them. After a hearty re- 
 past, relished with an appetite unknown to city epicures, they 
 stretched themselves upon their couches of skins, and under 
 the starry canopy of heaven, enjoyed the sound and sweet sleep 
 of hardy and well-fed mountaineers. 
 
 They continued on their journey for several days, without 
 any incident worthy of notice, and on the 19th of November, 
 came upoxi traces of the party of which they were in search; 
 such as burned patches of prairie, and deserted camping 
 grounds. All these were carefully examined, to discover, by 
 their freshness or antiquity the probable time that the trap- 
 pers had left them; at length, after much wandering and in- 
 
176 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 vestigating, they came upon the regular trail of the hunting 
 party, which led into the mountains, and following it up 
 briskly, came about two o’clock in the afternoon of the 20th, 
 upon the encampment of Hodgkiss and his band of free trap- 
 pers, in the bosom of a mountain valley. 
 
 It will be recollected that these free trappers, who were 
 masters of themselves and their movements, had refused to 
 accompany Captain Bonneville back to Green River in the 
 preceding month of July, preferring to trap about the upper 
 waters of the Salmon River, where they expected to find 
 plenty of beaver, and a less dangerous neighborhood. Their 
 hunt had not been very successful. They had penetrated the 
 great range of mountains among which some of the upper 
 branches of Salmon River take their rise, but had become so 
 entangled among immense and almost impassable barricades 
 of fallen pines, and so impeded by tremendous precipices, that 
 a great part of their season had been wasted among these 
 mountains. At one time they had made their way through 
 them, and reached the Boisee River ; but meeting with a band 
 of Banneck Indians, from whom they apprehended hostilities, 
 they had again taken shelter among the mountains, where 
 they were found by Captain Bonneville. In the neighborhood 
 of their encampment, the captain had the good fortune to meet 
 with a family of those wanderers of the mountains, emphatically 
 called ‘Ges dignes de pitie,” or Poordevil Indians. These, how- 
 ever, appear to have forfeited the title, for they had with them 
 a fine lot of skins of beaver, elk, deer, and mountain sheep. 
 These, Captain Bonneville purchased from them at a fair valua- 
 tion, and sent them olf astonished at their own wealth, and no 
 doubt objects of envy to all their pitiful tribe. 
 
 Being now reinforced by Hodgkiss and his band of free trap- 
 pers, Captain Bonneville put himself at the head ©f the united 
 parties, and set out to rejoin those he had recently left at the 
 Beer Spring that they might all go into winter quarters on 
 Snake River. On this route, he encountered many heavy falls 
 of snow, which melted almost immediately, so as not to impede 
 his march, and on the 4th of December, he found his other 
 party, encamped at the very place where he had partaken in 
 the buffalo hunt with the Bannecks. 
 
 That braggart horde was encamped but about three miles off, 
 and were just then in high glee and festivity, and more swag- 
 gering than ever, celebrating a prodigious victory. It appeared 
 that a party of their braves being out on a hunting excursion, 
 
ADYEjSTUUliti OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 177 
 
 discovered a band of Blackfeet moving, as they thought, to 
 surprise their hunting camp. The Bannecks immediately 
 posted themselves on each side of a dark ravine, through 
 which the enemy must pass, and, just as they were entangled 
 in the midst of it, attacked them with great fury. The Biack- 
 feet, struck with sudden panic, threw off their buffalo robes 
 and fled, leaving one of their warriors dead on the spot. The 
 victors eagerly gathered up the spoils ; but their greatest prize 
 was the scalp of the Blackfoot brave. This they bore off in 
 triumph to the village, where it had ever sinice been an object 
 of the greatest exultation and rejoicing. It had been elevated 
 upon a pole in the centre of the village, where the warriors 
 had celebrated the scalp dance round it, with war feasts, war 
 songs, and warlike harangues. It had then been given up to 
 the women and boys ; who had paraded it up and down the 
 village with shouts and chants and antic dances; occasionally 
 saluting it with all kinds of taunts, invectives, and revilings. 
 
 The Blackfeet, in this affair, do not appear to have acted up 
 to the character which has rendered them objects of such ter- 
 ror. Indeed, their conduct in war, to the inexperienced ob- 
 server is full of inconsistencies ; at one time they are headlong 
 in courage, and heedless of danger; at another time cautious 
 almost to cowardice. To understand these apparent incongru- 
 ities, one must know their principles of warfare. A war party, 
 however triumphant, if they lose a warrior in the fight, bring 
 back a cause of mourning to their people, which casts a shade 
 over the glory of their achievement. Hence, the Indian is 
 often less fierce and reckless in general battle than he is in a 
 private brawl ; and the chiefs are checked in their boldest un- 
 dertakings by the fear of sacrificing their warriors. 
 
 This peculiarity is not confined to the Blackfeet. Among the 
 Osages, says Captain Bonneville, when a warrior falls in battle, 
 his comrades, though they have fought with consummate valor, 
 and won a glorious victory, will leave their arms upon the field 
 of battle, and returning home with dejected countenances, will 
 halt without the encampment, and wait until the relatives of 
 the slain come forth and invite them to mingle again with 
 their people. 
 
178 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 WINTER CAMP AT TEE PORTNEUP — FINE SPRINGS— THE BANNBCK 
 INDIANS— THEIR HONESTY — CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE PREPARES 
 FOR AN EXPEDITION— CHRISTMAS— THE AMERICAN PALLS— WILD 
 SCENERY— FISHING FALLS— SNAKE INDIANS— SCENERY ON THE 
 BRUNEAU— VIEW OP VOLCANIC COUNTRY FROM A MOUNTAIN- 
 POWDER RIVER— SHOSHOKOES, OR ROOT DIGGERS— THEIR CHAR- 
 ACTER, HABITS, HABITATIONS, DOGS— VANITY AT ITS LAST SHIFT. 
 
 In establishing his winter camp near the Portneuf, Captain 
 Bonneville had drawn off to some little distance from liis Ban- 
 neck friends, to avoid aU annoyance from their intimacy or 
 intrusions. In so doing, however, he had been obliged to take 
 up his quarters on the extreme edge of the flat land, where he 
 was encompassed with ice and snow, and had nothing better 
 for his horses to subsist on than wormwood. The Bannecks, 
 on the contrary, were encamped among fine springs of water, 
 where there was grass in abundance. Some of these springs 
 gush out of the earth in sufficient quantity to turn a mill ; and 
 furnish beautiful streams, clear as crystal, and full of trout of 
 a large size ; which may be seen darting about the transparent 
 water. 
 
 Winter now set in regularly. The snow had fallen fre- 
 quently, and in large quantities, and covered the ground to the 
 depth of a foot ; and the continued coldness of the weather pre- 
 vented any thaw. 
 
 By degrees, a distrust which at first subsisted between the 
 Indians and the trappers, subsided, and gave way to mutual 
 confidence and good-will. A few presents convinced the chiefs 
 that the white men were their friends; nor were the white men 
 wanting in proofs of the honesty and good faith of their savage 
 neighbors. Occasionally, the deep snow and the want of fod- 
 der obliged them to turn their weakest horses out to roam in 
 quest of sustenance. If they at any time strayed to the camp 
 of the Bannecks, they were immediately brought back. It 
 must be confessed, however, that if the stray horse happened, 
 by any chance, to be in vigorous plight and good condition, 
 though he was equally sure to be returned by the heneBt Ban- 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. ]79 
 
 necks, yet it was always after the lapse of several days, and in 
 a very gaunt and jaded state; and always with the remark 
 that they had foimd him a long way off. The uncharitable 
 were apt to surmise that he had, in the interim, been well used 
 up in a buffalo hunt; but those accustomed to Indian morality 
 in the matter of horseflesh, considered it a singular evidence of 
 honesty that he should be brought back at all. 
 
 Being convinced, therefore, from these, and other circum- 
 stances, that his people were encamped in the neighborhood of 
 a tribe as honest as they were valiant, and satisfied that they 
 would pass their winter unmolested. Captain Bonneville pre- 
 pared for a reconnoitring expedition of great extent and peril. 
 This was, to penetrate to the Hudson’s Bay establishments on 
 the banks of the Columbia, and to make himself acquainted 
 with the country and the Indian tribes ; it being one part of his 
 scheme to establish a trading post somewhere on the lower 
 part of the river, so as to participate in the trade lost to the 
 United States by the capture of Astoria. This expedition 
 would, of course, take him through the Snake Eiver country, 
 and across the Blue Mountains, the scenes of so much hardship 
 and disaster to Hunt and Crooks, and their Astorian bands, 
 who first explored it, and he would have to pass through it in 
 the same frightful season, the depth of winter. 
 
 The idea of risk and hardship, however, only served to stim- 
 ulate the adventurous spirit of the captain. He chose three 
 companions for his journey, put up a small stock of necessaries 
 in the most portable form, and selected five horses and mules 
 for themselves and their baggage. He proposed to rejoin his 
 band in the early part of March, at the winter encampment 
 near the Portneuf. All these arrangements being completed, 
 he mounted his horse on Christmas morning, and set off with 
 his three comrades. They halted a little beyond the Banneck 
 camp, and made their Christmas dinner, which, if not a very 
 merry, was a very hearty one, after which they resumed their 
 journey. 
 
 They were obliged to travel slowly, to spare their horses; for 
 the snow had increased in depth to eighteen inches; and 
 though somewhat packed and frozen, was not suflSciently so to 
 yield firm footing. Their route lay to the west, down along 
 the left side of Snake Eiver; and they were several days in 
 reaching the first, or American Falls. The banks of the river, 
 for a considerable distance, both above and below the falls, 
 have a volcanic character ; masses of basaltic rock are piled 
 
180 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 one upon another; the water makes its way through their 
 broken chasms, boiling through narrow channels, or pitching 
 in beautiful cascades over ridges of basaltic colunms. 
 
 Beyond these falls, they came to a picturesque, but incon- 
 siderable stream, called the Cassie. It runs through a level 
 valley, about four miles wide, where the soil is good ; but the 
 prevalent coldness and dryness of the climate is unfavorable to 
 vegetation. Near to this stream there is a small mountain of 
 mica slate, including garnets. Granite, in small blocks, is 
 likewise seen in this neighborhood, and white sandstone. 
 From this river, the travellers had a prospect of the snowy 
 heights of the Salmon River Mountains to the north; the 
 nearest, at least fifty miles distant. 
 
 In pursuing his course westward. Captain Bonneville gener- 
 ally kept several miles from Snake River, crossing the heads 
 of its tributary streams ; though he often found the open coun- 
 try so encumbered by volcanic rocks, as to render travelling 
 extremely difficult. Whenever he approached Snake River, 
 he found it running through a broad chasm, with steep, per- 
 pendicular sides of basaltic rock. After several days’ travel 
 across a level plain, he came to a part of the river which filled 
 him with astonishment and admiration. As far as the eye 
 could reach, the river was walled in by perpendicular cliffs 
 two hundred and fifty feet high, beetling like dark and gloomy 
 battlements, while blocks and fragments lay in masses at their 
 feet, in the midst of the boiling and whirling current. Just 
 above, the whole stream pitched in one cascade above forty 
 feet in height, with a thundering sound, casting up a volume 
 of spray that hung in the air like a silver mist. These are 
 called by some the Fishing Falls, as the salmon are taken here 
 in immense quantities. They cannot get by these falls. 
 
 After encamping at this place all night. Captain Bonneville, 
 at sunrise, descended with his party through a narrow ravine, 
 or rather crevice, in the vast wall of basaltic rock which bor- 
 dered the river ; this being the only mode, for many miles, of 
 getting to the margin of the stream. 
 
 The snow lay in a thin crust along the banks of the river, so 
 that their travelling was much more easy than it had been 
 hitherto. There were foot tracks, also, made by the natives, 
 which greatly facilitated their progress. Occasionally, they 
 met the inhabitants of this wild region ; a timid race, and but 
 scantily provided with the necessaries of life. Tl>eir dress con- 
 sisted of a mantle about four feet square, form<'^ of strips of 
 
ADymruREs of captain Bonneville. igi 
 
 rabbit skins sewed together; this they hung over their sboii! 
 dors, in the ordinary Indian mode of wearing the blanket. 
 Their weapons were bows and arrows ; the latter tipped with 
 obsidian, which abounds in the neighborhood. Their huts were 
 shaped like haystacks, and constructed of branches of willow 
 covered with long grass, so as to be warm and comfortable. 
 Occasionally, they were surrounded by small inclosures of 
 wormwood, about three feet high, which gave them a cottage- 
 like appearance. Three or four of these tenements were oc- 
 casionally grouped together in some wild and striking situa- 
 tion, and had a picturesque effect. Sometimes they were in 
 sufficient number to form a small hamlet. From these people 
 Captain Bonneville’s party frequently purchased salmon, dried 
 in an admirable manner, as were likewise the roes. This 
 seemed to be their prime article of food ; but they were ex- 
 tremely anxious to get buffalo me^t in exchange. 
 
 The high walls and rocks, within whicii the travellers ha/ 
 been so long inclosed, now occasionally presented opening , 
 through which they were enabled to ascend to the plain, a x 
 to cut off considerable bends of the river. 
 
 Throughout the whole extent of this vast and singular cha n, 
 the scenery of the river is said to be of the most wild and ro- 
 mantic character. The rocks present every variety of mat^ses 
 and grouping. Numerous small streams come rushing and 
 boiling through narrow clefts and ravines ; one of a considerable 
 size issued from the face of a precipice, within twenty-five feet 
 of its summit ; and after running in nearly a horizontal Sine for 
 about one hundred feet, fell, by numerous small cascades, to 
 the rocky bank of the river. 
 
 In its career through this vast and singular (JU-file, Snake 
 River is upward of three hundred yards wide, and as clear as 
 spring water. Sometimes it steals along with a tranquil and 
 noiseless course; at other times, for miles and miles, it dashes 
 on in a thousand rapids, wild and beautiful to the eye, and 
 lulhng the ear with the soft tumult of plashing waters. 
 
 Many of the tributary streams of Snake River, rival it in the 
 wildness and picturesqueness of their sce^iery. That called the 
 Bruneau is particularly cited. It runs through a tremendous 
 chasm, rather than a vaUey, extending upward of a hundred 
 and fifty miles. You come upon it on a sudden, in traversing 
 a level plain. It seems as if you could throw a stone across 
 from cliff to cliff ; yet, the valley is near two thousand feet 
 deep; so that the river looks like an inconsiderable stream. 
 
18S ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 Basaltic rocks rise perpendicularly, so that it is impossible to 
 get from the plain to the water, or from the rivei’ margin to 
 the plain. The current is bright and limpid. Hot springs are 
 found on the borders of this river. One bursts out of the cliffs 
 forty feet above the river in a stream sufficient to turn a mill, 
 and sends up a cloud of vapor. 
 
 We find a characteristic picture of this volcanic region of 
 mountains and streams, furnished by the journal of Mr. 
 Wyetn, which lies before us; who ascended a peak in the 
 neighborhood we are describing. From this summit, the coun- 
 try, he says, appears an indescribable chaos; the tops of the 
 hills exhibit the same strata as far as the eye can reach ; and 
 appear to have once formed the level of the country ; and the 
 valleys to be formed by the sinking of the earth, rather than 
 the rising of the hills. Through the deep cracks and chasms 
 thus formed, the rivers and brooks make their way, which 
 renders it difficult to follow them. All these basaltic channels 
 are called cut rocks by the trappers. Many of the mountain 
 streams disappear in the plains; either absorbed by their 
 thirsty soil, and by the porous surface of the lava, or swallowed 
 up in gulfs and chasms. 
 
 On the 12th of January (1834), Captain Bonneville reached 
 Powder River ; much the largest stream that he had seen since 
 leaving the Portneuf. He struck it about three miles above 
 its entrance into Snake River. Here he found himself above 
 the lower narrows and defiles of the latter river, and in an 
 open and level country. The natives now made their appear 
 ance in considerable numbers, and evinced the most insatiable 
 curiosity respecting the white men ; sitting in groups for hours 
 together, exposed to the bleakest winds, merely for the pleas- 
 ure of gazing upon the strangers, and watching every move- 
 ment. These are of that branch of the great Snake tribe 
 called Shoshokoes, or Root Diggers, from their subsisting, in a 
 great measure, on the roots of the earth; though they likewise 
 take fish in great quantities, and hunt, in a small way. They 
 are, in general, very poor ; destitute of most of the comforts of 
 life, and extremely indolent; but a mild, inoffensive race. 
 They differ, in many respects, from the other branch of the 
 Snake tribe, the Shoshonies; who possess horses, are more 
 roving and adventurous, and himt the buffalo. 
 
 On the following day, as Captain Bonneville approached the 
 mouth of Powder River, he discovered at least a hundred fami- 
 lies of these Diggers, as they are familiarly called, assembled 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 183 
 
 in one place. The women and children kept at a distance, 
 perched among the rocks and cliffs ; their eager curiosity being 
 somewhat dashed with fear. From their elevated posts, they 
 scrutinized the strangers with the most intense earnestness; 
 regarding them with almost as much awe as if they had beerx 
 beings of a supernatural order. 
 
 The men, however, were by no means so shy and reserved ; 
 but importuned Captain Bonneville and his companions exces- 
 sively by their curiosity. Nothing escaped their notice; and 
 any thing they could lay their hands on, underwent the most 
 minute examination. To get rid of such inquisitive neighbors, 
 tne travellers kept on for a considerable distance, before they 
 encamped for the night. 
 
 The country, hereabout, was generally level and sandy ; pro- 
 ducing very little grass, but a considerable quantity of sage or 
 wormwood. The plains were diversified by isolated hills, all 
 cut off as it were, about the same height, so as to have tabular 
 summits. In this they resembled the isolated hills of the great 
 prairies, east of the Eocky Mountains ; especially those found 
 on the plains of the Arkansas. 
 
 The high precipices which had hitherto walled in the chan- 
 nel of Snake River had now disappeared ; and the banks were 
 of the ordinary height. It should be observed, that the great 
 valleys or plains, through which the Snake River wound its 
 course, were generally of great breadth, extending on each side 
 from thirty to forty miles ; where the view was bounded by 
 unbroken ridges of mountains. 
 
 The travellers found but little snow in the neighborhood of 
 Powder River, though the weather continued intensely cold. 
 They learned a lesson, however, from their forlorn friends, the 
 Root Diggers, which they subsequently found of great service 
 in their wintry wanderings. They frequently observed them 
 to be furnished with long ropes, twisted from the bark of the 
 wormwood. This they used as a slow match, carrying it 
 always lighted. Whenever they wished to warm themselves, 
 they would gather together a little dry wormwood, apply the 
 match, and in an instant produce a cheering blaze. 
 
 Captain Bonneville gives a cheerless account of a village of 
 these Diggers, which he saw in crossing the plain below Pow- 
 der River. “They live,” says he, “without any further pro- 
 tection from the inclemency of the season, than a sort of 
 breakweather, about three feet high, composed of sage (or 
 wormwood), and erected around them in the shape of a half 
 
184 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 moon.” Whenever he met with them, however, they had al 
 ways a large suite of half -starved dogs ; for these animals, in 
 savage as well as in civihzed life, seem to be the concomitants 
 of beggary. 
 
 These dogs, it must be allowed, were of more use than the 
 beggarly curs of cities. The Indian children used them in 
 hunting the small game of the neighborhood, such as rabbits 
 and prairie dogs; in which mongrel kind of chase they ac° 
 quitted themselves with some credit. 
 
 Sometimes the Diggers aspire to a nobler game, and succeed 
 in entrapping the antelope, the fleetest animal of the prairies. 
 The process by which this is effected is somewhat singular. 
 When the snow has disappeared, says Captain Bonneville, and 
 the ground become soft, the women go into the thickest fields 
 of wormwood, and pulling it up in great quantities, construct 
 with it a hedge about three feet high, inclosing about a hundred 
 acres. A single opening is left for the admission of the game. 
 This done, the women conceal themselves behind the worm- 
 wood, and wait patiently for the coming of the antelopes; 
 which sometimes enter this spacious trap in considerable num- 
 bers. As soon as they are in, the women give the signal, and 
 the men hasten to play their part. But one of them enters the 
 pen at a time ; and, after chasing the terrified animals round 
 the inclosure, is relieved by one of his companions. In this 
 way the hunters take their turns, relieving each other, and 
 keeping up a continued pursuit by relays, without fatigue to 
 themselves. The poor antelopes, in the end, are so wearied 
 down, that the whole party of men enter and dispatch them 
 with clubs ; not one escaping that has entered the inclosure. 
 The most curious circumstance in this chase is, that an animal 
 so fleet and agile as the antelope, and straining for its life, 
 should range round and round this fated inclosure, without 
 attempting to overleap the low barrier which surrounds it. 
 Such, however, is said to be the fact; and such their only mode 
 of hunting the antelope. 
 
 Notwithstanding the absence of all comfort and convenience 
 in their habitations, and the general squalidness of their appear- 
 ance, the Shoshokoes do not appear to be destitute of ingenuity. 
 They manufacture good ropes, and even a tolerably fine thread, 
 from a sort of weed found in their neighborhood ; and construct 
 bowls and jugs out of a kind of basket-work formed from small 
 strips of wood plaited; these, by the aid of a little wax, they 
 render perfectly water tight. Beside the roots on which they 
 
ADVEjSTUUES of captain BONNEVILLE. 186 
 
 mainly depend for subsistence, they collect great quantities of 
 seed, of various kinds, beaten with one hand out of the tops of 
 the plants into wooden bowls held for that purpose. The seed 
 thus collected is winnowed and parched, and ground between 
 two stones into a kind of meal or flour ; which, v/hen mixed 
 with water, forms a very palatable paste or gruel. 
 
 Some of these people, more provident and industrious than 
 the rest, lay up a stock of dried salmon, and other fish, for 
 winter ; with these, they were ready to trafiic with the travel- 
 lers for any objects of utility in Indian life ; giving a large 
 quantity in exchange for an awl, a knife, or a fish-hook. 
 Others were in the most abject state of want and starvation ; 
 and would even gather up the fish-bones which the travellers 
 threw away after a repast, warm them over again at the fire, 
 and pick them with the greatest avidity. 
 
 The farther Captain Bonneville advanced into the country 
 of these Boot Diggers, the more evidence he perceived of their 
 rude and forlorn condition, ‘‘ They were destitute,” says he, 
 of the necessary covering to protect them from the weather; 
 and seemed to be in the most unsophisticated ignorance of any 
 other propriety or advantage in the use of clothing. One old 
 dame had absolutelynothing on her person but a thread round 
 her neck, from which was pendant a solitary bead.” 
 
 What stage of human destitution, however, is too destitute 
 for vanity ! Though these naked and forlorn-looking beings 
 had neither toilet to arrange, nor beauty to contemplate, their 
 gi'eatest passion was for a mirror. It was a “ great medicine,’ 
 in their eyes. The sight of one was sufficient, at any time, to 
 throw them into a paroxysm of eagerness and delight; and 
 they were ready to give anything they had for the smallest 
 fragment in which they might behold their squalid features. 
 With this simple instance of vanity, in its primitive but vigor- 
 ous state, we shall close our remarks on the Boot Diggers. 
 
186 ADVEJSTmiES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 TEMPERATURE OF THE CLIMATE— ROOT DIGGERS ON HORSEBACK 
 — -AN INDIAN GUIDE — MOUNTAIN PROSPECTS— THE GRAND ROND 
 — DIFFICULTIES ON SNAKE RIVER— A SCRAMBLE OVER THE 
 BLUE MOUNTAINS— SUFFERINGS FROM HUNGER— PROSPECT OF 
 THE IMMAHAH VALLEY — THE EXHAUSTED TRAVELLER. 
 
 The temperature of the regions west of the Rocky Mountains 
 is much milder than in the same latitudes on the Atlantic side ; 
 the upper plains, however, which lie at a distance from the sea- 
 coast are subject in winter to considerable vicissitude ; being 
 traversed by lofty “sierras,” crowned with perpetual snow, 
 which often produce flaws and streaks of intense cold. This 
 was experienced by Captain Bonneville and his companions in 
 their progress westward. At the time when they left the 
 Bannecks, Snake River was frozen hard; as they proceeded, 
 the ice became broken and floating; it gradually disappeared, 
 and the weather became warm and pleasant, as they ap- 
 proached a tributary stream called the Little Wyer; and the 
 soil, which was generally of a watery clay, with occasional in- 
 tervals of sand, was soft to the tread of the horses. After a 
 time, however, the mountains approached and flanked the 
 river, the snow lay deep in the valleys, and the current was 
 once more icebound. 
 
 Here they were visited by a party of Root Diggers, who 
 were apparently rising in the world, for they had “a horse to 
 ride and weapon to wear,” and were altogether better clad and 
 equipped than any of the tribe that Captain Bonneville had 
 met with. They were just from the plain of Boisee River, 
 where they had left a number of their tribe, all as well pro- 
 vided as themselves, having guns, horses, and comfortable 
 clothing. All these they obtained from the Lower Nez Perces, 
 with whom they were in habits of frequent trafiic. They ap- 
 peared to have imbibed from that tribe their non-combative 
 principles, being mild and inoffensive in their manners. Like 
 them, also, they had something of religious feelings ; for Cap- 
 tain Bonneville observed that, before eating they washed their 
 hands and made a short prayer; which he understood was 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 187 
 
 their invariable custom. From these Indians he obtained a 
 considerable supply of fish, and an excellent and well-condi- 
 tioned horse, to replace one which had become too weak for 
 the journey. 
 
 The travellers now moved forward with renovated spirits; 
 the snow, it is true, lay deeper and deeper as they advanced, 
 but they trudged on merrily, considering themselves well 
 provided for the journey, which could not be of much longer 
 duration. 
 
 They had intended to proceed up the banks of Gun Creek, a 
 stream which flows into Snake River from the west ; but were 
 assured by the natives that the route in that direction was 
 impracticable. The latter advised them to keep along Snake 
 River, where they would not be impeded by the snow. Tak- 
 ing one of the Diggers for a guide they set off along the river, 
 and to their joy soon found the country free from snow, as 
 had been predicted, so that their horses once more had the 
 benefit of tolerable pasturage. Their Digger proved an excel- 
 lent guide, trudging cheerily in the advance. He made an 
 unsuccessful shot or two at a deer and a beaver; but at night 
 found a rabbit hole, whence he extracted the occupant, upon 
 which, with the addition of a fish given by the travellers, he 
 made a hearty supper, and retired to rest, filled with good 
 cheer and good humor. 
 
 The next day the travellers came to where the hiUs closed 
 upon the river, leaving here and there intervals of undulating 
 meadow land. The river was sheeted with ice, broken into 
 hills at long intervals. The Digger kept on ahead of the party, 
 crossing and recrossing the river in pursuit of game, until, 
 unluckily, encountering a brother Digger, he stole off with 
 him, without the ceremony of leave-taking. 
 
 Being now left to themselves, they proceeded until they 
 came to some Indian huts, the inhabitants of which spoke 
 a language totally different from any they had yet heard. 
 One, however, understood the Nez Perce language, and 
 through him they made inquiries as to their route. These 
 Indians were extremely kind and honest, and furnished them 
 with a small quantity of meat ; but none of them could be in- 
 duced to act as guides. 
 
 Immediately in the route of the travellers lay a high moun- 
 tain, which they ascended with some difficulty. The prospect 
 from the summit was grand but disheartening. Directly be- 
 fpre them towered the loftiest peaks of Immahah rising far 
 
188 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 higher than the elevated ground on which they stood ; on the 
 other hand, they were enabled to scan the course of the river, 
 dashing along through deep chasms, between rocks and preci- 
 pices, until lost in a distant wilderness of mountains, which 
 closed the savage landscape. 
 
 They remained for a long time contemplating, with per- 
 plexed and anxious eye, this wild congregation of mountain 
 barriers, and seeking to discover some . practicable passage. 
 The approach of evening obliged them to give up the task, and 
 to seek some camping ground for the night. Moving briskly 
 forward, and plunging and tossing through a succession of 
 deep snow-drifts, they at length reached a valley known 
 among trappers as the “ Grand Eond,” which they found 
 entirely free from snow. 
 
 This is a beautiful and very fertile valley, about twenty 
 miles long and five or six broad ; a bright cold stream called 
 the Fourche de Glace, or Ice Eiver, runs through it. Its 
 sheltered situation, embosomed in mountains, renders it good 
 pasturing ground in the winter time ; when the elk come down 
 to it in great numbers, driven out of the mountains by the 
 snow. The Indians then resort to it to hunt. They likewise 
 come to it in the summer to dig the camash root, of which it 
 produces immense quantities. When this plant is in blossom, 
 the whole valley is tinted by its blue fiowers, and looks like 
 the ocean when overcast by a cloud. 
 
 After passing a night in this valley, the travellers in the 
 morning scaled the neighboring hills, to look out for a more 
 eligible route than that upon which they had unluckily fallen ; 
 and, after much reconnoitring determined to make their way 
 once more to the river, and to travel upon the ice when the 
 banks should prove impassable. 
 
 On the second day after this determination, they were again 
 upon Snake Eiver, but, contrary to their expectations, it was 
 nearly free from ice. A narrow ribbon ran along the shore, 
 and sometimes there was a kind of bridge across the stream, 
 formed of old ice and snow. For a short time, they jogged 
 along the bank, with tolerable facility, but at length came to 
 where the river forced its way into the heart of the mountains, 
 winding between tremendous walls of basaltic rock, that rose 
 perpendicularly from the water’s edge, frowning in bleak and 
 gloomy grandeur. ' Here difliculties of all kinds beset their 
 path. The snow was from two to three feet deep, but soft and 
 yielding, so that the horses had no foothold, but kept plunging 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 189 
 
 forward, straining themselves by perpetual efforts. Some- 
 times the crags and promontories forced them upon the 
 narrow ribbon of ice that bordered the shore ; sometimes they 
 had to scramble over vast masses of rock which had tumbled 
 from the impending precipices ; sometimes they had to cross 
 the stream upon the hazardous bridges of ice and snow, sink- 
 ing to the knee at every step ; sometimes they had to scale 
 slippery acclivities, and to pass along narrow cornices, glazed 
 with ice and sleet, a shouldering wall of rock on one side, a 
 yawning precipice on the other, where a single false step would 
 have been fatal. In a lower and less dangerous pass, two of 
 their horses actually fell into the river; one was saved with 
 much difficulty, but the boldness of the shore prevented their 
 rescuing the other, and he was swept away by the rapid 
 current. 
 
 In this way they struggled forward, manfuUy braving diffi- 
 culties and dangers, until they came to where the bed of the 
 river was narrowed to a mere chasm, with perpendicular 
 walls of rock that defied all further progress. Turning’ their 
 faces now to the mountain, they endeavored to cross directly 
 over it; but, after clambering nearly to the summit, found 
 their path closed by insurmountable barriers. 
 
 Nothing now remained but to retrace their steps. To 
 descend a cragged mountain, however, was more difficult and 
 dangerous than to ascend it. They had to lower themselves, 
 cautiously and slowly, from steep to steep ; and, while they 
 managed with difficulty to maintain their own footing, to aid 
 their horses by holding on firmly to the rope halters, as the 
 poor animals stumbled among slippery rocks, or slid down icy 
 declivities. Thus, after a day of intense cold, and severe and 
 incessant toil, amid the wildest of scenery, they managed, 
 about nightfall, to reach the camping ground from which they 
 had started in the morning, and for the first time in the course 
 of their rugged and perilous expedition, felt their hearts quail- 
 ing under their multiplied hardships. 
 
 A hearty supper, a tranquillizing pipe, and a sound night’s 
 sleep, put them all in better mood, and in the morning they 
 held a consultation as to their future movements. About four 
 miles behind, they had remarked a small ridge of mountains 
 approaching closely to the river. It was determined to scale 
 this ridge, and seek a passage into the valley which must lie 
 beyond. Should they fail in this, but one alternative re- 
 mained. To kill their horses, dry the fiesh for provisions. 
 
190 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 make boats of the hides, and, in these, commit themselves to 
 the stream, a measure hazardous in the extreme. 
 
 A short march brought them to the foot of the mountain, 
 but its steep and cragged sides almost discouraged hope. The 
 only chance of scaling it was by broken masses of rock, piled 
 one upon another, which formed a succession of crags, reach- 
 ing nearly to the summit. Up these they wrought their way 
 with indescribable difficulty and peril, in a zigzag course, 
 climbing from rock to rock, and helping their horses up after 
 them ; which scrambled among the crags like mountain goats ; 
 now and then dislodging some huge stone, which, the moment 
 they had left it, would roll down the mountain, crashing and 
 rebounding with terrific din. It was some time after dark 
 before they reached a kind of platfoimi on the summit of the 
 mountain, where they could venture to encamp. The winds, 
 which swept this naked height, had whirled all the snow into 
 the valley beneath, so that the horses found tolerable winter 
 pasturage on the dry grass which remained exposed. The 
 travellers, though hungry in the extreme, were fain to make a 
 very frugal supper; for they saw their journey was likely to 
 be prolonged much beyond the anticipated term. 
 
 In fact, on the following day they discerned that, although 
 already at a great elevation, they were only as yet upon the 
 shoulder of the mountain. It proved to be a great sierra, or 
 ridge, of immense height, running parallel to the course of 
 the river, swelhng by degrees to lofty peaks, but the outline 
 gashed by deep and precipitous ravines. This, in fact, was a 
 part of the chain of Blue Mountains, in which the first adven- 
 turers to Astoria experienced such hardships. 
 
 We will not pretend to accompany the travellers step by 
 step in this tremendous mountain scramble, into which they 
 had unconsciously betrayed themselves. Day after day did 
 their toil continue; peak after peak had they to traverse, 
 struggling with difficulties and hardships known only to the 
 mountain trapper. As their course lay north, they had to 
 ascend the southern faces of the heights, where the sun had 
 melted the snow, so as to render the ascent wet and slippery, 
 and to keep both men and horses continually on the strain; 
 while on the northern sides, the snow lay in such heavy masses 
 that it was necessary to beat a track down which the horses 
 might be led. Every now and then, also, their way was im- 
 peded by taU and numerous pines, some of which had fallen, 
 and lay in every direction. 
 
AB VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 191 
 
 In" the midst of these toils and hardships, their provisions 
 gave out. For three days they were without food, and so re- 
 duced that they could scarcely drag themselves along. At 
 length, one of the mules being about to give out from fatigue 
 and famine, they hastened to dispatch him. Husbanding this 
 miserable supply, they dried the flesh, and for three days sub- 
 sisted upon the nutriment extracted from the bones. As to 
 the meat, it was packed and preserved as long as they could 
 lo without it, not knowing how long they might remain be- 
 wildered in these desolate regions. 
 
 One of the men was now dispatched ahead, to reconnoitre 
 the country, and to discover, if possible, some more practi- 
 cable route. In the meantime, the rest of the party moved 
 on slowly. After a lapse of three days, the scout rejoined 
 them. He informed them that Snake Eiver ran immediately 
 below the sierra or mountainous ridge upon which they were 
 travelling; that it was free from precipices, and was at no 
 great distance from them in a direct line ; but that it would be 
 impossible for them to reach it without making a weary cir- 
 cuit. Their only course would be to cross the mountain ridge 
 to the left. 
 
 Up this mountain, therefore, the weary travellers directed 
 their steps; and the ascent, in their present weak and ex- 
 hausted state, was one of the severest parts of this most pain- 
 ful journey. For two days were they toiling slowly from cliff 
 to cliff, beating at every step a path through the snow for their 
 faltering horses. At length they reached the summit, where 
 the snow was blown off; but in descending on the opposite 
 side they were often plunging through deep drifts piled in the 
 hollows and ravines. 
 
 Their provisions were now exhausted, and they and their 
 horses almost ready to give out with fatigue and hunger; when 
 one afternoon, just as the sun was sinking behind a blue line 
 of distant mountain, they came to the brow of a height from 
 which they beheld the smooth valley of the Immahah stretched 
 out in smiling verdure below them. 
 
 The sight inspired almost a frenzy of delight. Roused to 
 new ardor, they forgot for a time their fatigues, and hurried 
 down the mountain, dragging their jaded horses after them, 
 and sometimes compelling them to slide a distance of thirty or 
 forty feet at a time. At length they reached the banks of the 
 Immahah. The young grass was just beginning to sprout, and 
 the whole valley wore an espcct of softness, verdure, and rc- 
 
192 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 pose, heightened by the contrast of the frightful region from 
 which they had just descended. To add to their joy, ^ they ob- 
 served Indian trails along the margin of the stream, and other 
 signs, which gave them reason to believe that there was an en- 
 campment of the Lower Nez Perces in the neighborhood, as it 
 was within the accustomed range of that pacific and hospitable 
 tribe. 
 
 The prospect of a supply of food stimulated them to new 
 exertion, and they continued on as fast as the enfeebled state 
 of themselves and their steeds would permit. At length, one 
 of the men, more exhausted than the rest, threw himself upon 
 the grass, and declared he could go no further. It was in vain 
 to attempt to arouse him ; his spirit had given out, and his re- 
 phes only showed the dogged apathy of despair. His com- 
 panions, therefore, encamped on the spot, kindled a blazing 
 fire, and searched about for roots with which to strengthen 
 and revive him. They all then made a starveling repast ; 
 but gathering round the fire, talked over past dangers and 
 troubles, soothed themselves with the persuasion that all were 
 now at an end, and went to sleep with the comforting hope 
 that the morrow would bring them into plentiful quarters. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 PROGRESS IN THE VALLEY— AN INDIAN CAVALIER— THE CAPTAIN 
 FALLS INTO A LETHARGY— A NEZ PERCE PATRIARCH— HOSPITA- 
 BLE TREATMENT — THE BALD HEAD — BARGAINING -VALUE OP AN 
 OLD PLAID CLOAK- THE FAMILY HORSE— THE COST OP AN IN- 
 DIAN PRESENT. 
 
 A TRANQUIL night’s rest had sufficiently restored the broken 
 down traveller to enable him to resume his wayfaring, and aU 
 hands set forward on the Indian trail. With all their eager- 
 ness to arrive within reach of succor, such was their feeble and 
 emaciated condition that they advanced but slowly. Nor is it 
 a matter of surprise that they should almost have lost heart, as 
 well as strength. It was now (the 16 th of February) fifty-three 
 days that they had been travelling in the midst of winter, ex- 
 posed to all kinds of privations and hardships ; and for the last 
 twenty days they had been entangled in the wild and desolate 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 193 
 
 labyrinths of the snowy mountains ; climbing and descending 
 icy precipices, and nearly starved with cold and hunger. 
 
 All the morning they continued following the Indian trail, 
 without seeing a human being, and were beginning to be dis- 
 couraged when, about noon, they discovered a horsemen at a 
 distance. He was coming directly toward them; but on dis- 
 covering them, suddenly reined up his steed, came to a halt, 
 and, after reconnoitring them for a time with great earnest- 
 ness, seemed about to make a cautious retreat. They eagerly 
 made signs of peace, and endeavored^ with the utmost anxiety, 
 to induce him to approach. He remained for some time in 
 doubt ; but at length, having satisfied himself that they were 
 not enemies, came galloping up to them. He was a fine, 
 haughty-looking savage, fancifully decorated, and mounted on 
 a high-mettled steed, with gaudy trappings and equipments. 
 It was evident that he was a warrior of some consequence 
 among his tribe. His whole deportment had something in it 
 of barbaric dignity ; he felt perhaps his temporary superiority 
 in personal array, and in the spirit of his steed, to the poor, 
 ragged, travel- worn trappers and their half-starved ' horses. 
 Approaching them with an air of protection, he gave them his 
 hand, and, in the Nez Perce language invited them to his 
 camp, which was only a few miles distant ; where he had plenty 
 to eat, and plenty of horses, and would cheerfully share his 
 good things with them. 
 
 His hospitable invitation was joyfully accepted ; he lingered 
 but a moment, to give directions by which they might find his 
 camp, and then, wheeling round, and giving the reins to his 
 mettlesome steed, was soon out of sight. The travellers fol- 
 lowed, with gladdened hearts, but at a snail’s pace ; for their 
 poor horses could scarcely drag one leg after the other. Cap- 
 tain Bonneville, however, experienced a sudden and singular 
 change of feeling. Hitherto, the necessity of conducting his 
 party, and of providing against every emergency, had kept liis 
 mind upon the stretch, and his whole system braced and ex- 
 cited. In no one instance had he flagged in spirit or felt dis° 
 posed to succumb. Now, however, that all danger v/as over, 
 and the march of a few miles would bring them to repose and 
 abundance, his energies suddenly deserted him; and every 
 faculty, mental and physical, was totally relaxed. He had not 
 proceeded two miles from the point where he had had the in- 
 terview with the Nez Perce chief, when he threw himself upon 
 the earth, without the power or will to move a muscle, or exert 
 
194 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 a thought, and sank almost instantly into a profound and 
 dreamless sleep. His companions again came to a halt, and 
 encamped beside him, and there they passed the night. 
 
 The next morning Captain Bonneville awakened from his 
 long and heavy sleep, much refreshed ; and they all resumed 
 their creeping progress. They had not long been on the march 
 when eight or ten of the Nez Perce tribe came galloping to 
 meet them, leading fresh horses to bear them to their camp. 
 Thus gallantly mounted, they felt new life infused into their 
 languid frames, and dashing forward, were soon at the lodges 
 of the Nez Perces. Here they found about twelve families liv- 
 ing together, :*ider the patriarchal sway of an ancient and 
 venerable chief. He received them with the hospitality of the 
 golden age, and with something of the same kind of fare ; for, 
 while he opened his arms to make them welcome, the only re- 
 past he set before them consisted of roots. They could have 
 wished for something more hearty and substantial; but, for 
 want of better, made a voracious meal on these humble viands. 
 The repast being over, the best pipe was lighted and sent 
 round ; and this was a most welcome luxury, having lost their 
 smoking apparatus twelve days before, among the mountains. 
 
 While they were thus enjoying themselves, their poor horses 
 were led to the best pastures in the neighborhood, where they 
 were turned loose to revel on the fresh sprouting grass ; so that 
 they had better fare than their masters. 
 
 Captain Bonneville soon felt himself quite at home among 
 th^se quiet, inoffensive people. His long residence among their 
 cousins, the Upper Nez Perces, had made him conversant with 
 their language, modes of expression, and all their habitudes. 
 He soon found, too, that he was well known among them, by 
 report, at least, from the constant interchange of visits and 
 messages between the two branches of the tribe. They at first 
 addressed him by his name ; giving him his title of captain, 
 with a French accent ; but they soon gave him a title of their 
 own which, as usual with Indian titles, had a peciihar signifi- 
 cation. In the case of the captain, it had somewhat of a whim- 
 sical origin. 
 
 As he sat chatting and smoking in the midst of them, he 
 would occasionally take off his cap. Whenever he did so, 
 there was a sensation in the surrounding circle. The Indians 
 would half rise from their recumbent posture, and gaze upon 
 his uncovered head with their usual exclamation of astonish- 
 ment. The worthy captain was completely bald; a phenom- 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. igr; 
 
 enon very surprising in their eyes. They were at a loss to 
 know whether he had been scalped in battle, or enjoyed a nat- 
 ural immunity from that belligerent infliction. In a little 
 while he became known among them by an Indian name, sig- 
 nifying ‘ ‘ the bald chief. ” ‘ ' A sobriquet, ” observes the captain, 
 “for which I can find no parallel in history since the days of 
 Charles the Bald.” 
 
 Although the travellers had banqueted on roots, and been re- 
 galed with tobacco smoke, yet their stomachs craved more 
 generous fare. In approaching the lodges of the Nez Perces 
 they had indulged in fond anticipations of venison and dried 
 salmon; and dreams of the kind still haunted their imagina- 
 tions, and could not be conjured down. The keen appetites 
 of mountain trappers, quickened by a fortnight’s fasting, at 
 length got the better of all scruples of pride, and they fairly 
 begged some fish or fiesh from the hospitable savages. The 
 latter, however, were slow to break in upon their winter store, 
 which was very limited ; but were ready to furnish roots in 
 abundance, which they pronounced excellent food. At length, 
 Captain BonneviUe thought of a means of attaining the much- 
 coveted gratification. 
 
 He had about him, he says, a trusty plaid ; an old and valued 
 travelling companion and comforter; upon which the rains had 
 descended, and the snows and winds beaten, without further 
 effect than somewhat to tarnish its primitive lustre. This coat 
 of many colors had excited the admiration, and inflamed the 
 covetousness of both warriors and squaws to an extravagant 
 degree. An idea now occurred to Captain Bonneville, to con- 
 vert this rainbow garment into the savory viands so much de- 
 sired. There was a momentary struggle in his mind between 
 old associations and projected indulgence ; and his decision in 
 favor of the latter was made, he says, with a greater prompt- 
 ness perhaps, than true taste and sentiment might have re- 
 quired. In a few moments his plaid cloak was cut into 
 numerous strips. “ Of these,” continues he, “ with the newly 
 developed talent of a man-miUiner, I speedily constructed 
 turbans a la Turque, and fanciful head-gears of divers confor- 
 mations. These, judiciously distributed among such of the 
 womenkind as seemed of most consequence and interest in 
 the eyes of the patres conscripti, brought us, in a little while, 
 abundance of dried salmon and deers’ hearts, on which we 
 made a sumptuous supper. Another, and a more satisfactory 
 smoke, succeeded this repast, and sweet slumbers answering 
 
196 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 the peaceful invocation of our pipes, wrapped us in that deli 
 cious rest which is only won by toil and travail.” 
 
 As to Captain Bonneville, he slept in the lodge of the vener 
 able patriarch, who had evidently conceived a most disin- 
 terested affection for him ; as was shown on the following 
 morning. The travellers, invigorated by a good supper, and 
 “ fresh from the bath of repose,” were about to resume their 
 journey, when this affectionate old chief took the captadn 
 aside, to let him know how much he loved him. As a proof of 
 his regard, he had determined to give him a fine horse, which 
 would go farther than words, and put his good-will beyond ail 
 question. So saying, he made a signal, and forthwith a beau- 
 tiful young horse, ol a brown color, was led, prancing and 
 snorting, to the place. Captain Bonneville was suitably affected 
 by this mark of friendship ; but his experience in what is pro- 
 verbially called ‘‘ Indian giving,” made him aware that a part- 
 ing pledge was necessary on liis own part, to prove that his 
 friendship was reciprocated. He accordingly placed a hand- 
 some rifle in the hands of the venerable chief, whose benevo- 
 lent heart was evidently touched and gratified by this outward 
 and visible sign of amity. 
 
 Having now, as he thought, balanced this little account of 
 friendship, the captain v/as al 30 ut to shift his saddle to this 
 noble gift-horse, when the affectionate patriarch plucked him 
 by the sleeve, and introduced to him a whimpering, whining, 
 leathern- skinned old squaw, that might have passed for an 
 Egyptian mummy without drying. ‘‘This,” said he, “is my 
 wife; she is a good wife— I love her very much. — She loves the 
 horse— she loves him a great deal — she will cry very much at 
 losing him. — I do not know how I shall comfort her— and that 
 makes my heart very sore.” 
 
 What could the worthy captain do to console the tender- 
 hearted old squaw and, perad venture, to save the venerable 
 patriarch from a curtain lecture ? He bethought himself of a 
 pair of ear-bobs ; it was true, the patriarch’s better half was of 
 an age and appearance that seemed to put personal vanity out 
 of the question, but when is personal vanity extinct ? The mo- 
 ment he produced the glittering ear-bobs, the whimpering and 
 whining of the sempiternal beldame was at an end. She 
 eagerly placed the precious baubles in her ears, and, though as 
 ugly as the Witch of Endor, went off with a sideling gait, and 
 coquettish air, as though she had been a perfect Semiramis. 
 
 The captain had now saddled his newly acquired steed, and 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 197 
 
 his foot was in the stirrup, when the affectionate patriarch 
 again stepped forward, and presented to him a young Pierced- 
 nose, who had a peculiarly sulky look. ‘‘This,” said the ven- 
 erable chief, ‘As my son; he is very good; a great horseman— 
 he always took care of this very fine horse— he brought him up 
 from a colt, and made him what he is. He is very fond of this 
 fine horse — he loves him like a brother — his heart will be very 
 heavy when this fine horse leaves the camp.” 
 
 What could the captain do, to reward the youthful hope of 
 this venerable pair, and comfort him for the loss of his foster- 
 brother, the horse? He bethought him of a hatchet, which 
 might be spared from his slender stores. No sooner did he 
 place the instrument into the hands of the young hopeful, than 
 his countenance brightened up, and he w^ent off rejoicing in his 
 hatchet to the full as much as did his respectable mother in 
 her ear-bobs. 
 
 The captain was now in the saddle, and about to start, when 
 the affectionate old patriarch stepped forward for the third 
 time, and, while he laid one hand gently on the mane of the 
 horse, held up the rifle in the other. “This rifle,” said he, 
 “shall be my great medicine. I will hug it to my heart— I 
 will always love it, for the sake of my good friend, the bald- 
 headed chief. But a rifle, by itself, is dumb — I cannot make it 
 speak. If I had a little powder and ball, I would take it out 
 with me, and would now and then shoot a deer; and when I 
 brought the meat home to my hungry family, I would say — 
 This was killed by the rifle of my friend, the bald-headed chief, 
 to whom I gave that very fine horse.” 
 
 There was no resisting this appeal; the captain forthwith 
 furnished the coveted supply of powder and ball ; but at the 
 same time put spurs to his very fine gift-horse, and the first 
 trial of his speed was to get out of all further manifestation of 
 friendship on the part of the affectionate old patriarch and his 
 insinuating family. 
 
198 ADVENTUlWS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 NEZ PERCE CAMP— A CHIEF WITH A HARD NAME - THE BIG 
 HEARTS OP THE EAST— HOSPITABLE TREATMENT — THE INDIAN 
 GUIDES— jMYSTERIOUS COUNCILS— THE LOQUACIOUS CHIEF— IN- 
 DIAN TOMB— GRAND INDIAN RECEPTION— AN INDIAN FEAST— 
 TOWN-CRIERS— HONESTY OP THE NEZ PERCES— THE CAPTAIN’S 
 ATTEMPT AT HEALING. 
 
 Following the course of the Immahah, Captain Bonneville 
 and his three companions soon reached the vicinity of Snake 
 River. Their route now lay over a succession of steep and iso- 
 lated hills, with profound valleys. On the second day after 
 taking leave of the affectionate old patriarch, as they were 
 descending into one of those deep and abrupt intervals, they 
 descried a smoke, and shortly afterward came in sight of a 
 small encampment of Nez Perces. 
 
 The Indians, when they ascertained that it was a party of 
 white men approaching, greeted them with a salute of firearms, 
 and invited them to encamp. This band was likewise under 
 the sway of a venerable chief named Yo-mus-r o-y -e-cut ; a 
 name which we shall be careful not to inflict oftener than is 
 necessary upon the reader. This ancient and hard-named 
 chieftain welcomed Captain Bonneville to his camp with the 
 same hospitality and loving kindness that he had experienced 
 from his predecessor. He told the captain he had often heard 
 of the Americans and their generous deeds, and that liis buf- 
 falo brethren (the Upper Nez Perces) had always spoken of 
 them as the Big-hearted whites of the East, the very good 
 friends of the Nez Perces. 
 
 Captain Bonneville felt somewhat uneasy under the responsi- 
 bility of this magnanimous but costly appellation ; and began 
 to fear he might be involved in a second interchange of 
 pledges of friendship. He hastened, therefore, to let the old 
 chief know his poverty-stricken state, and how little there was 
 to be expected from him. 
 
 He informed him that he and his comrades had long resided 
 n.mong the Upper Nez Perces, and loved them so much that 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 199 
 
 they had thrown their arms around them, and now held them 
 close to their hearts. That he had received such good accounts 
 from the Upper Nez Perces, of their cousins, the Lower Nez 
 Perces, that he had become desirous of knowing them as 
 friends and brothers. That he and his companions had accord^ 
 ingly loaded a mule with presents and set off for the country 
 of the Lower Nez Perces; but, unfortunately, had been en- 
 trapped for many days among the snowy mountains; and 
 that the mule with all the presents had fallen into Snake 
 Kiver, and been swept away by the rapid current. That in- 
 stead, therefore, of arriving among their friends, the Nez 
 Perces, with light hearts and full hands, they came naked, 
 hungry, and broken down ; and instead of making them pres> 
 ents, must depend upon them even for food. “But,” com 
 eluded he, “ we are going to the white men’s fort on the Wal- 
 lah Wallah, and will soon return; and then we will meet our 
 Nez Perce friends like the true Big Hearts of the East.” 
 
 Whether the hint thrown out in the latter pait of the speech 
 had any effect, or whether the old chief acted from the hospita- 
 ble feelings which, according to the captain, are really inhe- 
 rent in the Nez Perce tribe, he certainly showed no disposition 
 to relax his friendship on learning the destitute circumstances 
 of his guests. On the contrary, he urged the captain to re- 
 main with them until the following day, when he would accom- 
 pany him on his journey, and make him acquainted with all 
 his people. In the meantime he would have a colt killed, and 
 cut up for travelling provisions. This, he carefully explained, 
 was intended not as an article of traffic, but as a gift ; for he 
 saw that his guests were hungry and in need of food. 
 
 Captain Bonneville gladly assented to this hospitable ar- 
 rangement. The carcass of the colt was forthcoming in due 
 season, but the captain insisted that one half of it should be set 
 apart for the use of the chieftain’s family. 
 
 At an early hour of the following morning the httle party 
 resumed their journey, accompanied by the old chief and an 
 Indian guide. Their route was over a rugged and broken 
 country; where the hills were slippery with ice and snow. 
 Their horses, too, were so weak and jaded that they could 
 scarcely climb the steep ascents or maintain their foothold on 
 the frozen declivities. Throughout the whole of the journey, 
 the old chief and the guide were unremitting in their good of- 
 fices, and continually on the alert to select the host roads, and 
 assist them through all difficulties. Indeed the captain and 
 
200 ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 his comrades had to be dependent on their Indian friends for 
 almost everything, for they had lost their tobacco and pipes, 
 those great comforts of the trapper, and had but a few charges 
 of powder left, which it was necessary to husband for the pur- 
 pose of lighting their fires. 
 
 In the course of the day the old chief had several private 
 consultations with the guide, and showed evident signs of 
 being occupied with some mysterious matter of mighty im- 
 port. What it was, Captain Bonneville could not fathom, nor 
 did he make much effort to do so. From some casual sen- 
 tences that he overheard, he perceived that it was something 
 from which the old man promised himself much satisfaction, 
 and to which he attached a little vainglory, but which he 
 wished to keep a secret; so he suffered him to spin out his 
 petty plans unmolested. 
 
 In the evening when they encamped, the old chief and his 
 privy counsellor, the guide, had another mysterious colloquy, 
 after which the guide mounted his horse and departed on 
 some secret mission, while the chief resumed his seat at the 
 fire, and sat humming to himself in a pleasing but mystic rev- 
 erie. 
 
 The next morning the travellers descended into the valley of 
 the Way' lee- way, a considerable tributary of Snake River. 
 Here they met the guide returning from his secret errand. 
 Another private conference was held between him and the old 
 managing chief, who now seemed more infiated than ever 
 with mystery and self-importance. Numerous fresh trails, 
 and various other signs persuaded Captain Bonneville that 
 there must be a considerable village of Nez Perces in the 
 neighborhood; but as his worthy companion, the old chief, 
 said nothing on the subject, and as it appeared to be in some 
 way connected with his secret operations, he asked no ques- 
 tions, but patiently awaited the development of his mystery. 
 
 As they journeyed on they came to where two or three Indi- 
 ans were bathing in a small stream. The good old chief imme^ 
 diately came to a halt, and had a long conversation with them, 
 in the course of which he repeated to them the whole history 
 which Captain Bonneville had related to him. In fact, he 
 seems to have been a very sociable, communicative old man; 
 by no means aOicted with that taciturnity generally charged 
 upon the Indians. On the contrary, he was fond of long talks 
 and long smokings, and evidently was proud of his new friend, 
 the bald-headed chief, and took a pleasure in soupdiiig his 
 
ABVEjSTVIIES of CAPTAnsr BOF NEVILLE. 201 
 
 praises, and setting forth the power and glory of the Big 
 Hearts of the East. 
 
 Having disburdened himself of everything he had to relate 
 to his bathing friends, he left them to their aquatic disports, 
 and proceeded onward with the captain and his companions. 
 As they approached the Way-lee-way, however, the communi- 
 cative old chief met with another and a very different occasion 
 to exert his colloquial powers. On the banks of the river stood 
 an isolated mound covered with grass. He pointed to it witli 
 some emotion. “ The big heart and the strong arm,” said he, 
 “ lie buried beneath that sod.” 
 
 It was, in fact, the gra,ve of one of his friends; a chosen 
 warrior of the tribe ; who had been slain on this spot wlien in 
 pursuit of a war party of Shoshokoes, who had stolen the 
 norses of the village. The enemy bore off his scalp as a 
 trophy ; but his friends found his body in this lonely place, and 
 commJtted it to the earth with ceremonials characteristic of 
 their pious and reverential feelings. They gathered round the 
 grave and mourned; the warriors were silent in their grief; 
 but the women and children bewailed their loss with loud 
 lamentations. ‘‘For three days,” said the old man, “we per- 
 formed the solemn dances for the dead, and prayed the Great 
 Spirit that our brother might be happy in the land of brave 
 warriors and hunters. Then we killed at his grave fifteen of 
 our best and strongest horses, to serve him when he should 
 arrive at the happy hunting grounds; and having done all 
 this, we returned sorrowfully to our homes. ” 
 
 While the chief was still talking an Indian scout came gal- 
 loping up and, presenting him with a powder horn, wheeled 
 round, and was speedily out of sight. The eyes of the old 
 chief now brightened; and all his self-importance returned. 
 His petty mystery was about to explode. Turning to Captain 
 Bonneville, he pointed to a hill hard by, and informed him 
 that behind it was a village governed by a little chief, whom 
 he had notified of the approach of the bald-headed chief, and 
 a party of the Big Hearts of the East, and that he was pre- 
 pared to receive them in becoming style. As, among other 
 ceremonials, he intended to salute them with a discharge of 
 firearms, he had sent the horn of gunpowder that they might 
 return the salute in a manner correspondent to his dignity. 
 
 They now proceeded on until they doubled the point of the 
 hill, when the whole population of the village broke upon their 
 view, drawn out in the most imposing style, and arrayed in aU 
 
202 ADVENTU11E8 OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 
 
 their finery. The effect of the whole was wild and fantastic, 
 yet singidarly striking. In the front rank were the chiefs and 
 principal warriors, glaringly painted and decorated; behind 
 them were arranged the rest of the people, men, women, and 
 children. 
 
 Captain Bonneville and his party advanced slowly, exchang- 
 ing salutes of firearms. When arrived within a respectful 
 distance they dismounted. The chiefs then came forward suc- 
 cessively, according to their respective characters and conse- 
 quence to offer the hand of good-fellowship; each filing off 
 when he had shaken hands, to make way for his successor. 
 Those in the next rank followed in the same order, and so on, 
 until all had given the pledge of friendship. During all this 
 time, the chief, according to custom, took his stand beside the 
 guests. If any of his people advanced whom he judged un- 
 worthy of the friendship or confidence of the white men, he 
 motioned them off by a wave of the hand, and they would sub- 
 missively walk away. When Captain Bonneville turned upon 
 him an inquiring look, he would observe, ‘ ‘ he was a bad man,” 
 or something quite as concise, and there was an end of the 
 matter. 
 
 Mats, poles, and other materials were now brought, and a 
 comfortable lodge was soon erected for the strangers, where 
 they were kept constantly supplied with wood and water, and 
 other necessaries; and all their effects were placed in safe- 
 keeping. Their horses, too, were unsaddled, and turned loose 
 to graze and a guard set to keep watch upon them. 
 
 All this being adjusted they were conducted to the main 
 building or council house of the village, where an ample repast, 
 or rather banquet, was spread, which seemed to realize all the 
 gastronomical dreams that had tantalized them during their 
 long starvation ; for here they beheld not merely fish and roots 
 in abundance, but the flesh of deer and elk, and the choicest 
 pieces of buffalo meat. It is needless to say how vigorously 
 they acquitted themselves on this occasion, and how unneces- 
 sary it was for their hosts to practise the usual cramming prin- 
 ciple of Indian hospitality. 
 
 * When the repast was over a long talk ensued. The chief 
 showed the same curiosity evinced by his tribe generally, to 
 obtain information concerning the United States, of which 
 they knew little but what they derived through their cousins, 
 the Upper Nez Perces; as their traffic is almost exclusively 
 with the British traders of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Cap- 
 
ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. go;} 
 
 tain Bonneville did his best to set forth the merits of his 
 nation, and the importance of their friendship to the red men, 
 in which he was ably seconded by his worthy friend, the old 
 chief with the hard name, who did all that he could to glorify 
 the Big Hearts of the East. 
 
 The chief and all present listened with profound attention, 
 and evidently with great interest; nor were the important 
 facts thus set forth confined to the audience in the lodge ; for 
 sentence after sentence was loudly repeated by a crier for the 
 benefit of the whole village. 
 
 This custom of promulgating everything by criers is not 
 confined to the Nez Perces, but prevails among many other 
 tribes. It has its advantage where there are no gazettes to 
 publish the news of the day, or to report the proceedings of 
 important meetings. And in fact, reports of this kind, viva 
 voce, made in the hearing of all parties, and liable to be con- 
 tradicted or corrected on the spot, are more hkely to convey 
 accurate information to the public mind than those circulated 
 through the press. The office of crier is generally filled by 
 some old man, who is good for little else. A village has gener- 
 ally several of these walking newspapers, as they are termed 
 by the whites, who go about proclaiming the news of the day, 
 giving notice of public councils, expeditions, dances, feasts, 
 and other ceremonials, and advertising anything lost. While 
 Captain Bonneville remained among the Nez Perces, if a glove, 
 handkerchief, or anything of similar value, was lost or mislaid, 
 it was carried by the finder to the lodge of the chief, and proc- 
 lamation was made by one of their criers, for the owner to 
 come and claim his property. 
 
 How difficult it is to get at the true character of these wan- 
 dering tribes of the wilderness ! In a recent work, we have 
 had to speak of this tribe of Indians from the experience of 
 other traders who had casually been among them, and who 
 represented them as selfish, inhospitable, exorbitant in their 
 dealings and much addicted to thieving.* Captain Bonneville, 
 on the contrary, who resided much among them, and had re- 
 peated opportunities of ascertaining their real character, in- 
 variably speaks of them as kind and hospitable, scrupulously 
 honest, and remarkable above all other Indians that he had 
 met with for a strong feeling of religion. In fact, so enthusi- 
 astic is he in their praise, that he pronounces them, all igno- 
 
 * Vide Astoria, chap. lii. 
 
204 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 rant and barbarous as they are by their condition, one of the 
 purest-hearted people on the face of the earth. 
 
 Some cures which Captain Bonneville had effected in simple 
 cases, among the Upper Nez Perces, had reached the ears of 
 their cousins here, and gained for him the reputation of a 
 great medicine man. He had not been long in the village, 
 therefore, before his lodge began to be the resort of the sick 
 and the infirm. The captain felt the value of the reputation 
 thus accidentally and cheaply acquired, and endeavored to 
 sustain it. As he had arrived at that age when every man is, 
 experimentally, something of a physician, he wa.s enabled to 
 turn to advantage the little knowledge in the healing ail 
 which he had casually picked up; and was sufficiently sue 
 cessful in two or three cases, to convince the simple Indians 
 that report had not exaggerated his medical talents. The only 
 patient that effectually baffled his skill, or rather discouraged 
 any attempt at relief, was an antiquated squaw with a church- 
 yard cough, and one leg in the grave ; it being shrunk and ren- 
 dered useless by a rheumatic affection. This was a case beyond 
 his mark ; however, he comforted the old woman with a promise 
 that he would endeavor to procure something to relieve her, at 
 the fort on the Wallah- Wallah, and would bring it on his re- 
 turn ; with which assurance her husband was so well satisfied 
 that he presented the captain with a colt, to be killed as pro- 
 visions for the journey ; a medical fee which was thankfully 
 accepted. 
 
 While among these Indians Captain Bonneville unexpectedly 
 found an owner for the horse which he had purchased from a 
 Boot Digger at the Big Wyer. The Indian satisfactorily proved 
 that the horse had been stolen from him some time previous, 
 by some unknown thief. “However,” said the considerate 
 savage, ^ ‘ you got him in fair trade — you are more in want of 
 horses than I am; keep him; he is yours— he is a good horse; 
 use him well.” 
 
 Thus, in the continual experience of acts of kindness and 
 generosity, which his destitute condition did not allow him to 
 reciprocate. Captain Bonneville passed some short time among 
 these good people, more and more impressed with the general 
 excellence of their character. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 20fi 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 SCENERY OF THE WAY-LEE- WAY— A SUBSTITUTE FOR TOBACCO- 
 SUBLIME SCENERY OF SNAKE RIVER — THE GARRULOUS OLD 
 CHIEF AND HIS COUSIN — A NEZ PERCE MEETING — A STOLEN 
 SKIN— THE SCAPEGOAT DOG— MYSTERIOUS CONFERENCES— THE 
 LITTLE CHIEF— HIS HOSPITALITY— THE CAPTAIN’S ACCOUNT OF 
 THE UNITED STATES — HIS HEALING SKILL. 
 
 In resuming his journey, Captain Bonneville was conducted 
 by the same Nez Perce guide, whose knowledge o " the country 
 was important in choosing the routes and resting-places. He 
 also continued to be accompanied by the worthy old chief with 
 the hard name, who seemed bent upon doing the honors of the 
 country, and introducing him to every branch of ~ his tribe. 
 The Way-lee-way, down the banks of which Captain Bonne- 
 ville and his companions were now travelhng, is a considera- 
 ble stream winding through a succession of bold and beautiful 
 scenes. Sometimes the landscape towered into bold and moun- 
 tainous heights that partook of sublimity; at other times it 
 stretched along the water side in fresh smiling meadows and 
 grateful undulating valleys. 
 
 Frequently in their route they encountered small parties of 
 the Nez Perces, with whom they invariably stopped to shake 
 hands ; and who, generally, evinced great curiosity concerning 
 them and their adventures ; a curiosity which never failed to 
 be thoroughly satisfied by the replies of the worthy Yo-mus- 
 ro-y-e-cut, who kindly took upon himself to be spokesman of 
 the party. 
 
 The incessant smoking of pipes incident to the long talks of 
 this excellent, but somewhat garrulous old chief, at length ex- 
 hausted all his stock of tobacco, so that he had no longer a 
 whiff with which to regale his white companions. In this 
 emergency he cut up the stem of his pipe into fine shavings, 
 which he mixed with certain herbs, and thus manufactured a 
 temporary succedaneum to enable him to accompany his long 
 colloquies and harangues with the customary fragrant cloud. 
 
 If the scenery of the Way-lee-way had charmed the travel- 
 lers with its mingled amenity and grandeur, that which broke 
 
i06 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 upon them on once more reaching Snake River, filled them 
 with admiration and astonishment. At timea, the river was 
 overhung by dark and stupendous rocks, rising like gigantic 
 walls and battlements ; these would he rent by wide and yawn- 
 ing chasms, that seemed to speak of past convulsions of nature. 
 Sometimes the river was of a glassy smoothness and placidity, 
 at other times it roared along in impetuous rapids and foaming 
 cascades. Here, the rocks were piled in the most fantastic 
 crags and precipices; and in another place they were suc- 
 ceeded by delightful valleys carpeted with greensward. The 
 whole of this wild and varied scenery was dominated by im- 
 mense mountains rearing their distant peaks into the clouds. 
 ‘‘The grandeur and originality of the views presented on 
 every side,” says Captain Bonneville, “beggar both the pencil 
 and the pen. Nothing we had ever gazed upon in any other 
 region could for a moment compare in wild majesty and im- 
 pressive sternness with the series of scenes which here at 
 every turn astonished our senses and filled us with awe and 
 delight.” 
 
 Indeed, from all that we can gather from the journal before 
 us, and the accounts of other travellers, who passed through 
 these regions in the memorable enterprise of Astoria, we are 
 inclined to think that Snake River must be one of the most re- 
 markable for varied and striking scenery of all the rivers of 
 this continent. From its head-waters in the Rocky Moun- 
 tains, to its junction with the Columbia, its windings are up- 
 ward of six hundred miles through every variety of landscape. 
 Rising in a volcanic region, amid extinguished craters, and 
 mountains awful with the traces of ancient fires, it makes its 
 way through great plains of lava and sandy deserts, penetrates 
 vast sierras or mountainous chains, broken into romantic and 
 often frightful precipices, and crowned with eternal snows; 
 and at other times careers through green and smiling mead- 
 ows and wdde landscapes of Italian grace and beauty. Wild- 
 ness and sublimity, however, appear to be its prevailing char- 
 acteristics. 
 
 Captain BonneviUe and his companions had pursued their 
 journey a considerable distance down the course of Snake 
 River, when the old chief halted on the bank, and dismounting, 
 recommended that they should turn their horses loose to graze, 
 while he summoned a cousin of his from a group of lodges on 
 the opposite side of the stream. His summons was quickly 
 answered. An Tn^^ian, of an active, elastic form, leaped into a 
 
ADVENT U EES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 207 
 
 light canoe of cotton-wood, and vigorously plying the paddle, 
 soon shot across the river. Bounding on shore, he advanced 
 with a buoyant air and frank demeanor, and gave his right 
 hand to each of the party in turn. The old chief, whose hard 
 name we forbear to repeat, now presented Captain Bonneville, 
 in form, to his cousin, whose name, we regret to say, was no 
 less hard, being nothing less than Hay-she-in-cow-cow. The 
 latter evinced the usual curiosity to know all about the stran- 
 gers, whence they came, whither they were going, the object 
 of their journey, and the adventures they had experienced. 
 All these, of course, were amply and eloquently set forth by 
 the conimunicative old chief. To all his grandiloquent account 
 of the bald-headed chief and his countrymen, the Big Hearts 
 of the East, his cousin hstened with great attention, and replied 
 in the customary style of Indian welcome. He then desired 
 the party to await his return, and, springing into his canoe, 
 darted across the river. In a little while he returned, bringing 
 a most welcome supply of tobacco, and a small stock of pro • 
 visions for the road, declaring his intention of accompanying 
 the party. Having no horse, he mounted behind one of the 
 men, observing that he should procure a steed for himself on 
 the following day. 
 
 They all now jogged on, very sociably and cheerily together. 
 Not many miles beyond, they met others of the tribe, among 
 whom was one whom Captain Bonneville and his comrades 
 had known during their residence among the Upper Nez 
 Perces, and who welcomed them with open arms. In this 
 neighborhood was the home of their guide, who took leave of 
 them with a profusion of good wishes for their safety and hap- 
 piness. That night they put up in the hut of a Nez Perce, 
 where they were visited by several warriors from the other 
 side of the river, friends of the old chief and his cousin, who 
 came to have a talk and a smoke with the white men. The 
 heart of the good old chief was overflowing with good-will at 
 thus being surrounded by his new and old friends, and he 
 talked with more spirit and vivacity than ever. The evening 
 passed away in perfect harmony and good-humor, and it was 
 not until a late hour that the visitors took their leave and re- 
 crossed the river. 
 
 After this constant picture of worth and virtue on the part 
 of the Nez Perce tribe, we grieve to have to record a circum- 
 stance calculated to throw a temporary shade upon the name. 
 In the course of the social and harmonious evening just men- 
 
208 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 tioned, one of the captain’s men, who happened to he some- 
 thing of a virtuoso in his way, and fond of collecting curiosi- 
 ties, produced a small skin, a great rarity in the eyes of men 
 conversant in peltries. It attracted much attention among the 
 visitors from beyond the river, who passed it from one to the 
 other, examined it with looks of hvely admiration, and pro- 
 nounced it a great medicine. 
 
 In the morning, when the captain and his party were about 
 to set off, the precious skin was missing. Search was made 
 for it in the hut, but it was nowhere to be found ; and it was 
 strongly suspected that it had been purloined by some of the 
 connoisseurs from the other side of the river. 
 
 The old chief and his cousin were indignant at the supposed 
 delinquency of their friends across the water, and called out 
 for them to come over and answer for their shameful conduct. 
 The others answered to the call with all the promptitude of 
 perfect innocence, and spurned at the idea of their being capa- 
 ble of such outrage upon any of the Big-hearted nation. All 
 were at a loss on whom to fix the crime of abstracting the in- ' 
 valuable skin, when by chance the eyes of the worthies from ; 
 beyond the water fell upon an unhappy cur, belonging to the i 
 owner of the hut. He was a gaUows-looking dog, but not more 
 so than most Indian dogs who, take them in the mass, are little ^ 
 better than a generation of vipers. Re that as it may, he was , 
 instantly accused of having devoured the skin in question. A 
 dog accused is generally a dog condemned; and a dog con- 
 demned is generally a dog executed. So was it in the present 
 instance. The unfortunate cur was arraigned; his thievish ! 
 looks substantiated his guilt, and he was condemned by hiu i 
 judges from across the river to be hanged. In vain the In- 
 dians of the hut, with whom he was a great favorite, interceded ' 
 in his behalf. In vain Captain Bonneville and his comrades 
 petitioned that his life might be spared. His judges were inex- 
 orable. He was doubly guilty ; first, in having robbed their 
 good friends, the Big Hearts of the East; secondly, in having 
 brought a doubt on the lx)nor of the Nez Perce tribe. He was, 
 accordingly, swung aloft, and pelted with stones to make 
 his death more certain. The sentence of the judges being 
 thoroughly executed, a post mortem examination of the body 
 of the dog was held to establish his delinquency beyond all 
 doubt, and to leave the Nez Perces without a shadow of suspi- 
 cion. Great interest, of course, was manifested by all present, 
 during this operation. The body of the dog was opened, the 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 209 
 
 intestines rigorously scrutinized, but, to the horror of all con- 
 cerned, not a particle of the skin was to be found — the dog had 
 been unjustly executed. 
 
 A great clamor now ensued, but the most clamorous was the 
 party from across the river, whose jealousy of their good name 
 now prompted them to the most vociferous vindications of 
 their innocence. It was with the utmost difficulty that the 
 captain and his comrades could calm their lively sensibilities, 
 by accounting for the disappearance of the skin in a dozen 
 different ways, until all idea of its having been stolen was 
 entirely out of the question. 
 
 The meeting now broke up. The warriors returned across 
 the river, the captain and his comrades proceeded on their, 
 journey; but the spirits of the communicative old chief, Yo- 
 mus-ro-y-e-cut, were for a time completely dampened, and he 
 evinced great mortification at what had just occurred. He 
 rode on in silence, except. that now and then he would give 
 way to a burst of indignation, and exclaim, with a shake of the 
 head and a toss of the hand toward the opposite shore — ‘‘bad 
 men, very bad men across the river;” to each of which brief 
 exclamations, his worthy cousin, Hay-she-in-cow-cow, would 
 respond by a deep guttural sound of acquiescence, equivalent 
 to an amen. 
 
 After some time the countenance of the old chief again 
 cleared up, and he fell into repeated conferences, in an under- 
 tone, with his cousin, which ended in the departure of the lat- 
 ter, who, applying the lash to his horse, dashed forward and 
 was soon out of sight. In fact, they were drawing near to the 
 village of another chief, likewise distinguished by an appella- 
 tion- of some longitude, 0-push-y-e-cut, but commonly known 
 as the great chief. The cousin had been sent ahead to give 
 notice of their approach ; a herald appeared as before, bearing 
 a powder-horn, to enable them to respond to the intended sa- 
 lute. A scene ensued, on their approach to the village, similar 
 to that which had occurred at the village of the little chief. 
 The whole population appeared in the field, drawn up in lines, 
 arrayed with the customary regard to rank and dignity. Then 
 came on the firing of salutes, and the shaking of hands, in 
 which last ceremonial every individual, man, woman, and 
 child, participated ; for the Indians have an idea that it is as 
 indispensable an overture of friendship among the whites as 
 smoking of the pipe is among the red men. The travellers 
 were next ushered to the bamquet, where all the choicest vi- 
 
210 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 ands that the village could furnish, were served up in rich pro- 
 fusion. They were afterward entertained by feats of agility 
 and horse-races ; indeed their visit to the village seemed the 
 signal for complete festivity. In the meantime, a skin lodge 
 had been spread for their accommodation, their horses and 
 baggage v/ere taken care of, and wood and water supplied in 
 abundance. At night, therefore, they retired to their quar- 
 ters, to enjoy, as they supposed, the repose of which they 
 *:tood in need. No such thing, however, was in store for them. 
 
 A. crowd of visitors awaited their appearance, all eager for a 
 r^moke and a talk. The pipe was immediately lighted, and 
 constantly replenished and kept alive until the night was far 
 advanced. As usual, the utmost eagerness was evinced by the 
 guests to learn everything within the scope of their compre- . 
 hension respecting the Americans, for whom they professed 
 the most fraternal regard. The captain, in his replies, made 
 use of familiar illustrations calculated to strike their minds, ' 
 and impress them with such an idea of the might of his nation ; 
 as would induce them to treat with kindness and respect all 
 stragglers that might fall in their path. To their inquiries as j 
 to the numbers of the people of the United States, he assured 
 them that they were as countless as the blades of grass in the ^ 
 prairies, and that, great as Snake Eiver was, if they were all ' 
 encamped upon its banks they would drink it dry in a single 
 day. To these and similar statistics they listened with pro- 
 found attention and apparently implicit belief. It was, indeed, 
 a striking scene: the captain, with his hunter’s dress and bald 
 head in the midst, holding forth, and his wild auditors seated 
 around like so many statues, the fire lighting up their painted 
 faces and muscular figures, all fixed and motionless, excepting 
 when the pipe was passed, a question propounded, or a start- 
 ling fact in statistics received with a movement of surprise and 
 a half-suppressed ejaculation of wonder and delight. 
 
 The fame of the captain as a healer of diseases had accom- 
 panied him to this village, and the great chief 0-push-y-e-cut 
 now entreated him to exert his skill on his daughter, who had 
 been for three days racked with pains, for which the Pierced- 
 nose doctoi^s could devise no alleviation. The captain found 
 her extended on a pallet of mats in excraciating pain. Her 
 father manifested the strongest paternal affection for her, and 
 assured the captain that if he would but cure her, he would 
 place the Americans near his heart. The worthy captain 
 i^eeded no such inducejnent. His kind heart was already 
 
ADVENTURES OF € APT AIN BONNEVILLE. 211 
 
 touched by the sufferings of the poor girl, and his sympathies 
 quickened by her appearance ; for she was but about sixteen 
 years of age, and uncommonly beautiful in form and feature. 
 The only difficulty with the captain was that he knew nothing 
 of her malady, and that his medical science was of a most hap- 
 hazard kind. After considering and cogitating for some time, 
 as a man is apt to do when in a maze of vague ideas, he made 
 a desperate dash at a remedy. By his directions the girl was 
 placed in a sort of rude vapor bath, much used by the Nez 
 Perces, where she was kept until near fainting. He then gave 
 her a dose of gunpowder dissolved in cold water, and ordered 
 her to be wrapped in buffalo robes and put to sleep under a 
 load of furs and blankets. The remedy succeeded; the next 
 morning she was free from pain, though extremely languid; 
 whereupon the captain prescribed for her a bowl of colt’s head 
 broth, and that she should be kept for a time on simple diet. 
 
 The great chief was unbounded in his expressions of grati- 
 tude for the recovery of his daughter. He would fain have 
 detained the captain a long time as his guest, but the time for 
 departure had arrived. When the captain’s horse was brought 
 for him to mount, the chief declared that the steed was not 
 worthy of him, and sent for one of his best horses, which he 
 presented in its stead ; declaring that it made his heart glad to 
 see his friend so well mounted. He then appointed a young 
 Nez Perce to accompany his guest to the next village, and “to 
 carry his talk” concerning them ; and the two parties separated 
 with mutual expressions of kindness and feelings of good-will. 
 
 The vapor bath of which we have made mention is in fre- 
 quent use among the Nez Perce tribe, chiefly for cleanliness. 
 Their sweating-houses, as they call them, are small and close 
 lodges, and the vapor is produced by water poured slowly upon 
 red-hot stones. 
 
 On passing the limits of 0-push-y-e-cut’s domains, the travel- 
 lers left the elevated table-lands, and all the wild and romantic 
 scenery which has just been described. They now traversed a 
 gently undulating country, of such fertility that it excited the 
 rapturous admiration of two of the captain’s followers, a Ken- 
 tuckian and a native of Ohio. They declared that it surpassed 
 any land that they had ever seen, and often exclaimed what a 
 delight it would be just to run a plough through such a rich 
 and teeming soil, and see it open its bountiful promise before 
 the share. 
 
 Another halt and sojourn of a night was made at the village 
 
212 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 of a chief named He-mim-el-pilp, where similar ceremonies 
 were observed and hospitality experienced as^t the preced- 
 ing villages. They now pursued a west-southwest course 
 through a beautiful and fertile region, better wooded than most 
 of the tracts through which they had passed. In their pro- 
 gress, they met with several bands of Nez Perces, by whom 
 they were invariably treated with the utmost kindness. With- 
 in seven days after leaving the domain of He-mim-el-pilp, they 
 struck the Columbia River at Fort Wallah- Wallah, where they 
 arrived on the 4th of March, 1834. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 FORT WALLAH-WALLAH — ITS COMMANDER — INDIANS IN ITS 
 NEIGHBORHOOD — EXERTIONS OF MR. DAMBRUNE FOR THEIR 
 IMPROVEMENT — RELIGION — CODE OF LAWS — RANG.E OF THE 
 LOWER NEZ PERCES— CAMASH, AND OTHER ROOTS — NEZ PERCE 
 HORSES— PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE— REFUSAL OF SUP- 
 PLIES— DEPARTURE — A LAGGARD AND GLUTTON. 
 
 Fort Wallah- Wall ah is a trading-post of the Hudson’s 
 Bay Company, situated just above the mouth of the river of 
 the same name, and on the left bank of the Columbia. It is 
 built of drift-wood, and calculated merely for defence against 
 any attack of the natives. At the time of Captain Bonneville’s 
 arrival, the whole garrison mustered but six or eight men: 
 and the post was under the superintendence of Mr. Pambrune, 
 an agent of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 
 
 The great post and fort of the company, forming the em- 
 porium of its trade on the Pacific, is Fort Vancouver; situated 
 on the right bank of the Columbia, about sixty miles from the 
 sea, and just above the mouth of the Wallamut. To this point 
 the company removed its establishment from Astoria, in 1821, 
 after its coahtion with the Northwest Company. 
 
 Captain Bonneville and his comrades experienced a polite 
 reception from Mr. Pambrune, the superintendent: for, how- 
 ever hostile the membeis of the British Company may be to 
 the enterprises of American traders, they have always mani- 
 fested great courtesy and hospitality to the traders themselves. 
 Fort Wallah- Wallah is surrounded by the tribe of the same 
 
ADVENTUUES OP CAPTAhy BONNEVILLE. 213 
 
 name, as well as by the Skynses and the Nez Perces ; who 
 bring to it the furs and peltries collected in their hunting ex- 
 peditions. The Wallah- Wallahs are a degenerate, wornout 
 tribe. The Nez Perces are the most numerous and tractable 
 of the three tribes just mentioned. Mr. Pambrune informed 
 Captain Bonneville that he had been at some pains to intro- 
 duce the Christian rehgion, in the Poman Catholic form, 
 among them, where it had evidently taken root ; but had be- 
 come altered and modified to suit their peculiar habits of 
 thought and motives of action ; retaining, however, the princi- 
 pal points of faith and its entire precepts of morality. The 
 same gentleman had given them a code of laws, to which they 
 conformed with scrupulous fidelity. Polygamy, which once 
 prevailed among them to a great extent, was now rarely in- 
 dulged. All the crimes denounced by the Christian faith met 
 with severe punishment among them. Even theft, so venial a 
 crime among the Indians, had recently been punished with 
 hanging, by sentence of a chjpf. 
 
 There certainly appears to be a peculiar susceptibility of 
 moral and religious improvement among this tribe, and they 
 would seem to be one of the very, very few that have bene- 
 fited in morals and manners by an intercourse with white 
 men. The parties which visited them about twenty years 
 previously, in the expedition fitted out by Mr. Astor, com- 
 plained of their selfishness, their extortion, and their thievish 
 propensities. The very reverse of those qualities prevailed 
 among them during the prolonged sojourns of Captain Bonne- 
 ville. 
 
 The Lower Nez Perces range upon the Way-lee -way, Im- 
 mahah, Yenghies, and other of the streams west of the moun- 
 tains. They hunt the beaver, elk, deer, white bear, and 
 mountain sheep. Beside the flesh of these animals, they use a 
 number of roots for food ; some of which would be well worth 
 transplanting and cultivating in the Atlantic States. Among 
 these is the camash, a sweet root, about the form and size of 
 an onion, and said to be really delicious. The cowish, also, or 
 biscuit root, about the size of a walnut, which they reduce to a 
 very palatable flour; together with the jackap aisish, quako, 
 and others ; which they cook by steaming them in the ground. 
 In August and September, these Indians keep along the rivers, 
 where they catch and dry great quantities of salmon ; which, 
 while they last, are their principal food. In the winter they 
 congregate in villages formed of comfortable huts, or lodges, 
 
214 ADVENTURES OP CAPTAIN BONNE VII. LE. 
 
 covered with mats. They are generally clad in deer skins, or 
 woollens, and extremely well armed. Above all, they are 
 celebrated for owning great numbers of horses; which they 
 mark, and then sulfer to range in droves in their most fertile 
 plains. These horses are principally of the pony breed ; but 
 remarkably stout and long-winded. They are brought in great 
 numbers to the establishments of the Hudson’s Bay Company, 
 and sold for a mere trifle. 
 
 Such is the account given by Captain Bonneville of the Nez 
 Perces; who, if not viewed by him with too partial an eye, are 
 certainly among the gentlest and least barbarous people of 
 these remote wildernesses. They invariably signified to him 
 their earnest wish that an American post might be established 
 among them ; and repeatedly declared that they would trade 
 with Americans in preference to any other people. 
 
 Captain Bonneville had intended to remain some time in this 
 neighborhood, to form an acquaintance with the natives and 
 to collect information, and establish connections that might be 
 advantageous in the way of trade. The delays, however, < 
 which he had experienced on his journey, obliged him to 
 shorten his sojourn, and to set off as soon as possible, so as to ! 
 reach the rendezvous at the Portneuf at the appointed time. 
 
 He had seen enough to convince him that an American trade 
 might be carried on with advantage in this quarter; and he , 
 determined soon to return with a stronger party, more com- 
 pletely fitted for the purpose. ; 
 
 As he stood in need of some supplies for his journey, he ap- 
 plied to purchase them of Mr. Pambrune ; but soon found the \ 
 difference between being treated as a guest, or as a rival | 
 trader. The worthy superintendent, who had extended to j 
 him all the genial rites of hospitality, now suddenly assumed j 
 a withered up aspect and demeanor, and observed that, how- | 
 ever he might feel disposed to serve him, personally, he felt j 
 bound by his duty to the Hudson’s Bay Company to do noth- 
 ing which should facilitate or encourage the visits of other 
 traders among the Indians in that part of the country. He 
 endeavored to dissuade Captain Bonneville from returning 
 through the Blue Mountains ; assuring him it would be ex- 
 tremely difficult and dangerous, if not impracticable, at this 
 season of the year; and advised him to accompany Mr. 
 Payette, a leader of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who was 
 about to depart with a number of men, by a more circuitous, 
 but safe route,, to carry supplies to the company’s agent, resi- , 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 215 
 
 dent among the Upper Nez Perces. Captain Bonneville, how- 
 ever^ piqued at his having refused to furnish him with suj)- 
 plies, and doubting the sincerity of his advice, determined to 
 return by the more direct route through the mountains; 
 though varying his course, in some respects, from that by 
 which he had come, in consequence of information gathered 
 among the neighboring Indians. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 6th of March he and his three com- 
 panions, accompanied by their Nez Perce guides, set out on 
 their return. In the early part of their course, they touched 
 again at several of the Nez Perce villages, where they had ex- 
 perienced such kind treatment on their way down. They were 
 always welcomed with cordiality ; and everything was done to 
 cheer them on their journey. 
 
 On leaving the Way -lee- way village, they were joined by a 
 Nez Perce, whose society was welcomed on account of the 
 general gratitude and good-will they felt for his tribe. He 
 soon proved a heavy clog upon the little party, being doltish 
 and taciturn, lazy in the extreme, and a huge feeder. His 
 only proof of intellect was in shrewdly avoiding all labor, and 
 availing himself of the toil of others. When on the march, he 
 always lagged behind the rest, leaving to them the task of 
 breaking a way through all difficulties and impediments, and 
 leisurely and lazily jogging along the track, which they had 
 beaten through the snow. At the evening encampment, when 
 others were busy gathering fuel, providing for the horses, and 
 cooking the evening repast, this worthy Sancho of the wilder- 
 ness would take his seat quietly and cosily by the fire, puffing 
 away at his pipe, and eyeing in silence, but with wistful inten- 
 sity of gaze, the savory morsels roasting for supper. 
 
 When meal-time arrived, however, then came his season of 
 activity. He no longer hung back, and waited for others to 
 take the lead, but distinguished himself by a brilliancy of on- 
 set and a sustained vigor and duration of attack that com- 
 pletely shamed the efforts of his competitors— albeit, experi- 
 enced trenchermen of no mean prowess. Never had they 
 witnessed such power of mastication and such marvellous 
 capacity of stomach as in this native and uncultivated gas- 
 tronome. Having, by repeated and prolonged assaults, at 
 length completely gorged himself, he would wrap himself up, 
 and lie with the torpor of an anaconda, slowly digesting his 
 way on to the next repast. 
 
 The gormandizing powers of this worthy were, at first, mat- 
 
216 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 ters of surprise and merriment to the travellers ; but they soon 
 became too serious for a joke, threatening devastation to the 
 fleshpots; and he was regarded askance, at his meals, as a 
 regular kill-crop, destined to waste the substance of the party. 
 Nothing but a sense ‘of the obligations they were under to his 
 nation induced them to bear with such a guest ; but he pro- 
 ceeded, speedily, to relieve them from the weight of these 
 obligations, by eating a receipt in full. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE UNINVITED GUEST— FREE AND EASY MANNERS— SALUTARY 
 JOKES— A PRODIGAL SON— EXIT OP THE GLUTTON— A SUDDEN 
 CHANGE IN FORTUNE— DANGER OF A VISIT TO POOR RELATIONS 
 —PLUCKING OF A PROSPEROUS MAN — A VAGABOND TOILET— 
 
 A SUBSTITUTE FOR THE VERY FINE HORSE— HARD TRAVELLING 
 —THE UNINVITED GUEST AND THE PATRIARCHAL COLT— A 
 BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK— A CATASTROPHE— EXIT OP THE MERRY ' 
 
 VAGABOND. ^ 
 
 i 
 
 As Captain Bonneville and his men were encamped one ? 
 evening among the hills near Snake River, seated before their 
 fire, enjoying a hearty supper, they were suddenly surprised ’ 
 by the visit of an uninvited guest. He was a ragged, half- 
 naked Indian hunter, armed with bow and arrows, and had I 
 the carcass of a fine buck thrown across his shoulder. Ad- | 
 vancing with an alert step, and free and easy air, he threw the | 
 buck on the ground, and, without waiting for an invitation, ) 
 seated himself at their mess, helped himself without ceremony, ^ 
 and chatted to the right and left in the liveliest and most un- \ 
 embarrassed manner. No adroit and veteran dinner hunter of 
 a metropolis could have acquitted himself more knowingly. 
 
 The travellers were at first completely taken by surprise, and 
 could not but admire the facility with which this ragged cosmop- 
 olite made himself at home among them. While they stared 
 he went on, making the most of the good cheer upon which he 
 had so fortunately alighted ; and was soon elbow deep in ‘ ‘ pot 
 luck” and greased from the tip of his nose to the back of his 
 ears. 
 
 As the company recovered from their surprise, they began 
 
ADVENTUUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 217 
 
 to feel annoyed at this intrusion. Their uninvited guest, un- 
 like the generality of his tribe, was somewhat dirty as well as 
 ragged and they had no relish for such a messmate. Heaping 
 up, therefore, an abundant portion of the “ provant” upon a 
 piece of bark which served for a dish, they invited him to com 
 fine himself thereto, instead of foraging in the general mess. 
 
 He complied with the most accommodating spirit imagb 
 nable ; and went on eating and chatting, and laughing and 
 smearing himself, until his whole countenance shone with 
 grease and good-humor. In the course of his repast, his at- 
 tention was caught by the figure of the gastronome, who, as 
 usual, was gorging himself in dogged silence. A droll cut ot 
 the eye showed either that he knew him of old, or perceived at 
 once his characteristics. He immediately made him the butt 
 of his pleasantries ; and cracked off two or three good hits, 
 that caused the sluggish dolt to prick up his ears, and delighted 
 all the company. From this time, the uninvited guest was 
 taken into favor; his jokes began to be relished ; his careless, 
 free and easy air, to be considered singularly amusing ; and in 
 the end, he was pronounced by the travellers one of the mer- 
 riest companions and most entertaining vagabonds they had 
 met with in the wilderness. 
 
 Supper being over, the redoubtable Shee-wee-she-ouaiter, for 
 such was the simple name by which he announced himself, de- 
 clared his intention of keeping company with the party for a 
 day or two, if they had no objection ; and by way of backing 
 his self-invitation, presented the carcass of the buck as an 
 earnest of his hunting abihties. By this time he had so com- 
 pletely effaced the unfavorable impression made by his first 
 appearance, that he was made welcome to the camp, and the 
 Nez Perc6 guide undertook to give him lodging for the night. 
 The next morning, at break of day he borrowed a gun, and 
 was off among the hills, nor was anything more seen of him 
 until a few minutes after the party had encamped for the 
 evening, when he again made his appearance, in his usual 
 frank, careless manner, and threw down the carcass of another 
 noble deer, which he had borne on his back for a considerable 
 distance. 
 
 This evening he was the life of the party, and his open com- 
 municative disposition, free from all disguise, soon put them 
 in possession of his histor}^ He had been a kind of prodigal 
 son in his native village ; living a loose, heedless life, and dis- 
 regarding the precepts and imperative commands of the clii(!is= 
 
218 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 He had, in consequence, been expelled from the village, but, in 
 nowise disheartened at this banishment had betaken himself 
 to the society of the border Indians, and had led a careless, 
 haphazard, vagaI)ond life, perfectly consonant to his humors; 
 heedless of the future, so long as he had wherewithal for the 
 present; and fearing no lack of food, so long as he had the im- 
 plements of the chase, and a fair hunting ground. 
 
 Finding him very expert as a hunter, and being pleased with 
 his eccentricities and his strange and merry humor. Captain 
 Bonneville fitted him out handsomely as the Nimrod of the 
 party, who all soon became quite attached to him. One of the 
 earliest and most signal services he performed, was to exorcise 
 the insatiate kill-crop that hitherto oppressed the party. In 
 fact, the doltish Nez Perce, who had seemed so perfectly insen- 
 sible to rough treatment of every kind, by which the travellers 
 had endeavored to elbow him out of their society, could not 
 withstand the good-humored bantering, and occasionally sharp 
 wit of She-wee-she. He evidently quailed under his jokes, and 
 sat bhnking like an owl in daylight, when pestered by the 
 fiouts and peckings of mischievous birds. At length his place 
 was found vacant at meal-time ; no one knew when he went 
 off, or whither he had gone, but he was seen no more, and the 
 vast surplus that remained when the repast was over, showed 
 what a mighty gormandizer had departed. 
 
 Relieved from this incubus, the little party now went on 
 cheerily. She-wee-she kept them in fun as well as food. His 
 hunting was always successful ; he was ever ready to render 
 any assistance in the camp or on the march ; while his jokes, 
 his antics, and the very cut of his coimtenance, so full of 
 whim and comicality, kept every one in good-humor. 
 
 In this way they journeyed on until they arrived on the 
 banks of the Immahah, and encamped near to the Nez Perce 
 lodges. Here She-wee-she took a sudden notion to visit his 
 people, and show off the state of worldly prosperity to which 
 he had so suddenly attained. He accordingly departed in the^ 
 morning, arrayed in hunter’s style, and well appointed with 
 everything befitting his vocation. The buoyancy of his gait, 
 the elasticity of his step, and the hilarity of his countenance, 
 showed that he anticipated, with chuckling satisfaction, the 
 surprise he was about to give those who had ejected him from 
 their society in rags. But what a change was there in his 
 whole appearance when he rejoined the party in the evening! 
 He came skulking into camp like a beaten cur, with his tail 
 
ADVENTURES OF CART AIN BONNEVILLE, 219 
 
 between his legs. All his finery was gone ; he was naked as 
 when he was born, with the exception of a scanty fiap that 
 answered the purpose of a fig leaf. His fellow-travellers at 
 first did not know him, but supposed it to be some vagrant 
 Root Digger sneaking into the camp ; but when they recognized 
 in this forlorn object their prime wag, She-wee-she, whom they 
 had seen depart in the morning in such high glee and high 
 feather, they could not contain their merriment, but hailed him 
 with loud and repeated peals of laughter. 
 
 She-wee-she was not of a spirit to be easily cast down ; he 
 soon joined in the merriment as heartily as any one, and 
 seemed to consider his reverse of fortune an excellent joke. 
 Captain Bonneville, however, thought proper to check his 
 good-humor, and demanded, with some degree of sternness, 
 the cause of his altered condition. He replied in the most 
 natural and self-complacent style imaginable, ' ‘ that he had 
 been among his cousins, who were very poor ; they had been 
 delighted to see him ; still more delighted with his good for- 
 tune ; they had taken him to their arms ; admired his equip- 
 ments; one had begged for this; another for that” — in fine, 
 what with the poor devil’s inherent heedlessness and the real 
 generosity of his disposition, his needy cousins had succeeded 
 in stripping him of all his clothes and accoutrements, except- 
 ing the fig leaf with which he had returned to camp. 
 
 Seeing his total want of care and forethought. Captain Bonne- 
 ville determined to let him suffer a little, in hopes it might 
 prove a salutary lesson ; and, at any rate, to make him no more 
 presents while in the neighborhood of his needy cousins. He 
 was left, therefore, to shift f gr himself in his naked condition ; 
 which, however, did not seem to give him any concern, or to 
 abate one jot of his good-humor. In the course of his loung- 
 ing about the camp, however, he got possession of a deer-skin; 
 whereupon, cutting a slit in the middle, he thrust his head 
 through it, so that the two ends hung down before and 
 behind, something like a South American poncho, or the 
 tabardof a herald. These ends he tied together, under the 
 armpits ; and thus arrayed presented himself once more before 
 the captain, with an air of perfect self-satisfaction, as though 
 he thought it impossible for any fault to be found with his 
 toilet. 
 
 A little further journeying brought the travellers to the petty 
 village of Nez Perces, governed by the worthy and affectionate 
 old patriarch who had made Captaiu Bonneville the costly 
 
220 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 present of a very fine horse. The old man welcomed them 
 once more to his village with his usual cordialty, and his re- 
 spectable squaw and hopeful son, cherishing grateful recollec- 
 tions of the hatchet and ear-bobs, joined in a chorus of friendly 
 gratulation. 
 
 As the much- vaunted steed, once the joy and pride of this 
 interesting family, was now nearly knocked up by travelling, 
 and totally inadequate to the mountain scramble that lay ahead, 
 Captain Bonneville restored him to the venerable patriarch, 
 with renewed acknowledgments for the invaluable gift. Some- 
 what to his surprise, he was immediately supplied with a fine 
 two years’ old colt in his stead, a substitution which, he after- 
 ward learned, according to Indian custom in such cases, he 
 might have claimed as a matter of right. We do not find that 
 any after claims were made on account of this colt. This dona- 
 tion may be regarded, therefore, as a signal punctilio of Indian 
 honor ; but it will be found that the animal soon proved an un- 
 lucky acquisition to the party. 
 
 While at this village, the Nez Perce guide had held consulta- 
 tions with some of the inhabitants as to the mountain tract the 
 party were about to traverse. He now began to wear an anx- 
 ious aspect, and to indulge in gloomy forebodings. The snow, 
 he had been told, lay to a great depth in the passes of the 
 mountains, and difiiculties would increase as he proceeded. 
 He begged Captain Bonneville, therefore, to travel very slowly, 
 so as to keep the horses in strength and spirit for the hard 
 times they would have to encounter. The captain surrendered 
 the regulation of the march entirely to his discretion, and 
 pushed on in the advance, amusing himself with hunting, so as 
 generally to kill a deer or two in the course of the day, and 
 arriving, before the rest of the party, at the spot designated 
 by the guide for the evening’s encampment. 
 
 In the meantime, the others plodded on at the heels of the 
 guide, accompanied by that merry vagabond, She-wee-she. 
 The primitive garb worn by this droll left all his nether man 
 exposed to the biting blasts of the mountains. Still his wit 
 was never frozen, nor his sunshiny temper beclouded ; and his 
 innumerable antics and practical jokes, while they quickened 
 the circulation of his own blood, kept his companions in high 
 good-humor. 
 
 So passed the first day after the departure from the patri- 
 arch’s. The second day commenced in the same manner; the 
 captain in the advance, the rest of the party following on 
 
ADViiJJSTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 22V 
 
 slowly. She-wee-she, for the greater part of the time, trudged 
 on foot over the snow, keeping himself warm by hard exercise, 
 and all kinds of crazy capers. In the height of his foolery, 
 the patriarchal colt, which, unbroken to the saddle, was suf- 
 fered to follow on at large, happened to come within his reach. 
 In a moment he was on his back, snapping his fingers, and 
 yelping with delight. The colt, unused to such a burden, and 
 half wild by nature, fell to prancing and rearing, and snort- 
 ing, and plunging, and kicking; and, at length, set off full 
 speed over the most dangerous ground. As the route led gen- 
 erally along the steep and craggy sides on the hills, both horse 
 and horseman were constantly in danger, and more than once 
 had a hairbreadth escape from deadly peril. Nothing, how- 
 ever, could daunt this madcap savage. He stuck to the colt 
 like a plaster, up ridges, down gullies ; whooping and yelling 
 with the wildest glee. Never did beggar on horseback display 
 more headlong horsemanship. His companions followed him 
 with their eyes, sometimes laughing, sometimes holding in 
 xheir breath at his vagaries, until they saw the colt make a 
 sudden plunge or start, and pitch his unlucky rider headlong 
 over a precipice. There was a general cry of horror, and all 
 hastened to the spot. They found the poor fellow lying among 
 the rocks below, sadly bruised and mangled. It was almost a 
 miracle that he had escaped with life. Even in this condition 
 his merry spirit was not entirely quelled, and he summoned 
 up a feeble laugh at the alarm and anxiety of those who came 
 to his relief. He was extricated from his rocky bed, and a 
 messtoger dispatched to inform Captain Bonneville of the 
 accident. The latter returned with all speed, and encamped 
 the party at the first convenient spot. Here the wounded man 
 was stretched upon buffalo skins, and the captain, who offi- 
 ciated on all occasions as doctor and surgeon to the party, pro- 
 ceeded to examine his wounds. The principal one was a long 
 and deep gash in the thigh, which reached to the bone. Call- 
 ing for a needle and thread, the capxain now prepared to sew 
 up the wound, admonishing the patient to submit to the oper- 
 ation with becoming fortitude. His gayety was at an end; he 
 could no longer summon up even a forced smile ; and, at the 
 first puncture of the needle flinched so piteously that the cap- 
 tain was obliged to pause, and to order him a powerful dose of 
 alcohol. This somewhat rallied up his spirit and warmed his 
 heart ; all the time of the operation, however, he kept his eyes 
 riveted on the wound, with his teeth set, and a whimsical 
 
^22 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 wincing ot the countenance that occasionally gave his nose 
 something of its usual comic curl. 
 
 When the wound was fairly closed, the captain washed it 
 with rum, and administered a second dose of the same to the 
 patient, who was tucked in for the night, and advised to com- 
 pose himself to sleep. He was restless and uneasy, however; 
 repeatedly expressing his fears that his leg would be so much 
 swollen the next day as to prevent his proceeding with the 
 party; nor could he be quieted until the captain gave a de 
 cided opinion favorable to his wishes. 
 
 Early the next morning, a gleam of his merry humor re*^ 
 turned, on finding that his wounded limb retained its natural 
 proportions. On attempting to use it, however, he found him- 
 self unable to stand. He made several efforts to coax himself 
 into a belief that he might still continue forward; but at 
 length shook his head despondingly, and said that ‘‘ as he had 
 but one leg,” it was all in vain to attempt a passage of the 
 mountain. 
 
 Every one grieved to part with so boon a companion, and 
 under such disastrous circumstances. He was once more 
 clothed and equipped, each one making him some parting pres- 
 ent. He was then helped on a horse, which Captain Bonne- 
 ville presented to him; and after many parting expressions 
 of good-will on both sides, set off on his return to his old 
 haunts ; doubtless to be once more plucked by his affectionate 
 but needy cousins. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE DIFFICULT MOUNTAIN — A SMOKE AND CONSULTATION — THE 
 captain’s speech — AN ICY TURNPIKE— DANGER OF A FALSE 
 STEP — ARRIVAL ON SNAKE RIVER — RETURN TO PORTNEUF— 
 MEETING OF COMRADES. 
 
 Continuing their journey up the course of the Immahah, 
 the travellers found, as they approached the head-waters, the 
 snow increased in quantity, so as to lie two feet deep. They 
 were again obliged, therefore, to beat down a path for their 
 horses, sometimes travelling on the icy surface of the stream. 
 At length they reached the place where they intended to scale 
 the mountains; and, having broken a pathway to the foot, 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 223 
 
 were agreeably surprised to find that the wind had drifted the 
 snow from off the side, so that they attained the summit with 
 but httle difiicultyo Here they encamped, with the intention 
 of beating a track through the mountains. A short experi- 
 ment, however, obliged them to give up the attempt, the snow 
 lying in vast drifts, often higher than the horses’ heads. 
 
 Captain Bonneville now took the two Indian guides, and set 
 out to reconnoitre the neighborhood. Observing a high peak 
 which overtopped the rest, he climbed it, and discovered from 
 the summit a pass about nine miles long, but so heavily piled 
 with snow that it seemed impracticable. He now lit a pipe, 
 and, sitting down with the two guides, proceeded to hold a 
 consultation after the Indian mode. For a long while they all 
 smoked vigorously and in silence, pondering over the subject 
 matter before them. At length a discussion commenced, and 
 the opinion in which the two guides concurred was, that the 
 horses could not possibly cross the snows. They advised, 
 therefore, that the party should proceed on foot, and they 
 should take the horses back to the village, where they would 
 be well taken care of until Captain Bonneville should send for 
 them. They urged this advice with great earnestness ; declar- 
 ing that their chief would be extremely angry, and treat them 
 severely should any of the horses of his good friends, the 
 white men, be lost in crossing under their guidance ; and that, 
 therefore, it was good they should not attempt it. 
 
 Captain BonneviUe sat smoking his pipe, and listening to 
 them with Indian silence and gravity. When they had fin- 
 ished, he replied to them in their own style of language. 
 
 ‘‘ My friends,” said he, “I have seen the pass, and have hst- 
 ened to your words ; you have httle hearts. When troubles 
 and dangers lie in your way, you turn your backs. That is 
 not the way with my nation. When great obstacles present, 
 and threaten to keep them back, their hearts swell, and they 
 push forward. They love to conquer difficulties. But enough 
 for the present. Night is coming on; let us return to our 
 camp.” 
 
 He moved on, and they followed in silence. On reaching the 
 camp, he found the men extremely discouraged. One of their 
 number had been surveying the neighborhood, and seriously 
 assured them that the snow was at least a hundred feet deep. 
 The captain cheered them up, and diflhised fresh spirit in them 
 by his example. Still he was much perplexed how to proceed. 
 About dark there was a slight drizzling rain. An expedient 
 
224 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 now suggested itself. This was to make two light sleds, place 
 the packs on them, and drag them to the other side of the 
 mountain, thus forming a road in the wet snow, which, should 
 it afterward freeze, would be sufficiently hard to bear the 
 horses. This plan was promptly put into execution ; the sleds 
 were constructed, the heavy baggage was drawn backward 
 and forward until the road was beaten, when they desisted 
 from their fatiguing labor. The night turned out clear and 
 cold, and by morning their road was incrusted with ice suffi- 
 ciently strong for their purpose. They now set out on their 
 icy turnpike, and got on well enough, excepting that now and 
 then a horse would shde out of the track, and immediately 
 sink up to the neck. Then came on toil and difficulty, and 
 they would be obliged to haul up the floundering animal with 
 ropes. One, more unlucky than the rest, after repeated falls, 
 had to be abandoned in the snow. Notwithstanding these re- 
 peated delays, they succeeded, before the sun had acquired 
 sufficient power to thaw the snow, in getting all the rest of 
 their horses safely to the other side of the mountain. 
 
 Their difficulties and dangers, however, were not yet at an 
 end. They had now to descend, and the whole surface of the 
 snow was glazed with ice. It was necessary, therefore, to 
 wait until the warmth of the sun should melt the glassy crust 
 of sleet, and give them a foothold to the yielding snow. They 
 had a frightful warning of the danger of any movement while 
 the sleet remained. A wild young mare, in her restlessness, 
 strayed to the edge of a declivity. One slip was fatal to her ; 
 she lost her balance, careered with headlong velocity down 
 the slippery side of the mountain for more than two thousand 
 feet, and was dashed to pieces at the bottom. When the trav- 
 ellers afterward sought the carcass to cut it up for food, they 
 found it torn and mangled in the most horrible manner. 
 
 It was quite late in the evening before the party descended 
 to the ultimate skirts of the snow. Here they planted largt 
 logs below them to prevent their sliding down, and encampe(\ 
 for the night. The next day they succeeded in bringing dowi\ 
 their baggage to the encampment ; then packing all up regu> 
 larly and loading their horses, they once more set out briskly 
 and cheerfully, and in the course of the following day suc' 
 ceeded in getting to a grassy region. 
 
 Here their Nez Perce guides declared that all the difficulties 
 of the mountains were at an end, and their course was plain 
 and simple, and needed no further guidance; they asked leave. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 225 
 
 therefore, to return home. This was readily granted, A\rith 
 many thanks and presents for their faithful services. They 
 took a long farewell smoke with their white friends, after 
 which they mounted their horses and set off, exchanging 
 many farewells and kind wishes. 
 
 On the following day, Captain Bonneville completed his 
 journey down the mountain, and encamped on the borders 
 of Snake Eiver, where he found the grass in great abundance 
 and eight inches in height. In this neighborhood he saw on 
 the rocky banks of the river several prismoids of basaltes, ris- 
 ing to the height of fifty or sixty feet. 
 
 Nothing particularly worthy of note occurred during several 
 days as the party proceeded up along Snake Eiver and across 
 its tributary streams. After crossing Gun Greek, they met 
 with various signs that white people were in the neighbor- 
 hood, and Captain Bonneville made earnest exertions to dis- 
 cover whether they were any of bis own people, that he might 
 join them. He soon ascertained that they had been starved 
 out of this tract of country, and had betaken themselves to the 
 buffalo region, whither he now shaped his course. In proceed- 
 ing along Snake Eiver, he found small hordes of Shoshonies 
 lingering upon the minor streams, and living upon trout and 
 other fish, which they catch in great numbers at this season in 
 fish-traps. The greater part of the tribe, however, had pene- 
 trated the mountains to hunt the elk, deer, and ahsahta or 
 bighorn. 
 
 On the 12th of May Captain Bonneville reached the Portneuf 
 Eiver, in the vicinity of which he had left the winter encamp- 
 ment of his company on the preceding Christmas day. He 
 had then expected to be back by the beginning of March, but 
 circumstances had detained him upward of two months be- 
 yond the time, and the winter encampment must long ere this 
 have been broken up. Halting on the banks of the Portneuf, 
 he dispatched scouts a few miles above, to visit the old camp- 
 ing ground and search for signals of the party, or of their 
 whereabouts, should they actually have abandoned the spot. 
 They returned without being able to ascertain anything. 
 
 Being now destitute of provisions, the travellers found it 
 necessary to make a short hunting excursion after buffalo. 
 They made caches, therefore, in an island in the river, in 
 which they deposited all their baggage, and then set out on 
 their expedition. They were so fortunate as to kill a couple 
 of fine bulls, and cutting i the carcasses, determined to hus' 
 
226 VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 band this stock of provisions with the most miserly care, lest 
 they should again be obliged to venture into the open and 
 dangerous hunting grounds. Eeturning to their island on the 
 18th of May, they found that the wolves had been at the 
 caches, scratched up the contents, and scattered them in every 
 direction. They now constructed a more secure one, in which 
 they deposited their heaviest articles, and then descended 
 Snake River again, and encamped just above the American 
 Falls. Here they proceeded to fortify themselves, intending 
 to remain here, and give their horses an opportunity to recruit 
 their strength with good pasturage, until it should be time to 
 set out for the annual rendezvous in Bear River valley. 
 
 On the first of June they descried four men on the other side 
 of the river, opposite to the camp, and, ha\ung attracted their 
 attention by a discharge of rifles, ascertained to their joy that 
 they were some of their own people. From these men Captain 
 Bonneville learned that the whole party which he had left in 
 the preceding month of December were encamped on Blackfoot 
 River, a tributary of Snake River, not very far above the Port- 
 neuf . Thither he proceeded with all possible dispatch, and in 
 a little while had the pleasure of finding himself once more 
 surrounded by his people, who greeted his return among them 
 in the heartiest manner; for his long-protracted absence had 
 convinced them that he and his three companions had been cut 
 off by some hostile tribe. 
 
 The party had suffered much during his absence. They had 
 been pinched by famine and almost starved, and had been 
 forced to repair to the caches at Salmon River. Here they fell 
 in with the Blackfeet bands, and considered themselves fortu- 
 nate in being able to retreat from the dangerous neighborhood 
 without sustaining any loss. 
 
 Being thus reunited, a general treat from Captain Bonneville 
 to his men was a matter of course. Two days, therefore, were 
 given up to such feasting and merriment as their means and 
 situation afforded. What was wanting in good cheer was made 
 up in good-will; the free trappers in particular distinguished 
 themselves on the occasion, and the saturnalia w^as enjoyed 
 with a hearty holiday spirit, that smacked of the game flavor 
 of the wilderness. 
 
AUVEmVllES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 227 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 DEPARTURE FOR THE RENDEZVOUS— A WAR PARTY OF BLACKPEET 
 — A MOCK BUSTLE— SHAM FIRES AT NIGHT — WARLIKE PRECAU- 
 TIONS— DANGERS OF A NIGHT ATTACK- A PANIC AMONG HORSES 
 — CAUTIOUS MARCH— THE BEER SPRINGS— A MOCK CAROUSAL- 
 SKIRMISHING WITH BUFFALOES- A BUFFALO BAIT— ARRIVAL AT 
 THE RENDEZVOUS— MEETING OF VARIOUS BANDS. 
 
 After the two days of festive indulgence, Captain BonnevQle 
 broke up the encampment, and set out with his motley crew of 
 hired and free trappers, half-breeds, Indians, and squaws, for 
 the main rendezvous in Bear River valley. Directing his 
 course up the Elackfoot River, he soon reached the hills among 
 which it takes its rise. Here, while on the march, he descried 
 from the brow of a hill, a war i3arty of about sixty Blackfeet, 
 on the plain immediately below him. His situation was peril- 
 ous ; for the greater part of his people were dispersed in various 
 directions. Still, to betray hesitation or fear would be to dis- 
 cover his actual weakness, and to invite attack. He assumed 
 instantly, therefore, a belligerent tone ; ordered the squaws to 
 lead the horses to a small grove of ashen trees, and unload and 
 tie them ; and caused a great bustle to be made by his scanty 
 handful ; the leaders riding hither and thither and vociferating 
 with all their might, as if a numerous force were getting under 
 way for an attack. 
 
 To keep up the deception as to his force, he ordered, at night, 
 a number of extra fires to be made in his camp, and kept up a 
 vigilant watch. His men were all directed to keep themselves 
 prepared for instant action. In such cases the experienced 
 trapper sleeps in his clothes, with his rifie beside him, the shot- 
 belt and powder-flask on the stock ; so that, in case of alarm, 
 he can lay his hand upon the whole of his equipment at once, 
 and start up, completely armed. 
 
 Captain Bonneville was also especially careful to secure the 
 horses, and set a vigilant guard upon them; for there lies the 
 great object and principal danger of a night attack. The grand 
 move of the lurking savage is to cause a panic among the 
 horses. In such cases one horse frightens another, until all are 
 
228 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLIl. 
 
 alarmed, and struggleto break loose. In camps wheie chere 
 are great numbers of Indians, with their horses, a night alarm 
 of the kind is tremendous. The ruiming of the horses that 
 have broken loose; the snorting, stamping, and rearing of 
 those which remain fast ; the howling of dogs ; tlie yelling of 
 Indians; the scampering of white men, and red men, with 
 their guns ; the overturning of lodges and trampling of fires by 
 the horses ; the flashes of the fires, lighting up forms of men 
 and steeds dashing through the gloom, altogether make up one 
 of the wildest scenes of confusion imaginable. 
 
 In this way, sometimes, aU the horses of a camp amounting 
 to several hundred will be frightened off in a single night. 
 
 The night passed off without any disturbance ; but there was 
 no likelihood that a war party of Blackfeet, once on the track 
 of a camp where there was a chance for spoils, would fail to 
 hover round it. The captain, therefore, continued to maintain 
 the most vigilant precautions; throwing out scouts in the 
 advance, and on every rising ground. 
 
 In the course of the day he arrived at the plain of white clay, 
 already mentioned, surrounded by the mineral springs, called 
 Beer Springs, by the trappers.* Here the men all halted to 
 have a regale. In a few moments every spring had its jovial 
 knot of hard drinkers, with tin cup in hand, indulging in a 
 mock carouse; quaffing, pledging, toasting, bandying jokes, 
 singing drinking songs and uttering peals of laughter, until it 
 seemed as if their imaginations had given potency to the bev- 
 erage, and cheated them into a fit of intoxication. Indeed, in 
 the excitement of the moment they were loud and extravagant 
 in their commendations of ‘Hhe mountain tap;” elevating it 
 above every beverage produced from hops or malt. It was a 
 singular and fantastic scene ; suited to a region where every* 
 thing is strange and peculiar. These groups of trappers and 
 hunters, and Indians, with their wild costumes and wilder 
 countenances ; their boisterous gayety and reckless air ; quaff- 
 
 * In a manuscript journal of Mr. Nathaniel G. Wyeth, we find the following men- 
 tion of this watering-place: 
 
 “ There is here a soda spring; or, I may say, fifty of them. These springs throw 
 out lime, which deposits and forms little hillocks of a yellowish-colored stone. 
 There is, also, here, a warm spring, which throws out water, with a jet; which is 
 like bilge-water in taste. There are, also, here, peat beds, which sometimes take 
 fire, and leave behind a deep, light ashes; in which animals sink deep. ... I as* 
 cended a mountain, and from it could see that Bear River took a short turn 
 round Sheep Rock. There were, in tne plain, many hundred mounds of yellowish 
 stone, with a crater on the top, formed of the deposits of the impregnated water. ” 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 229 
 
 ing and making merry round these sparkling fountains ; while 
 beside them lay their weajjons, ready to be snatched up for in- 
 stant service. Painters are fond of representing banditti at 
 their rude and picturesque carousals; but here were groups 
 still more rude and picturesque ; and it needed but a sudden 
 onset of Blackfeet, and a quick transition from a fantastic revel 
 to a furious melee, to have rendered this picture of a trapper’s 
 life complete. 
 
 The beer frolic, however, passed off without any untoward 
 circumstance; and, unlike most drinking bouts, left neither 
 headache nor heartache behind. Captain Bonneville now 
 directed his course up along Bear Eiver ; amusing himself oc- 
 casionally with hunting the buffalo with which the country 
 was covered. Sometimes when he saw a huge bull taking his 
 repose in a prairie, he would steal along a ravine, until close 
 upon him; then rouse him from his meditations with a pebble, 
 and take a shot at him as he started up. Such is the quick- 
 ness with which this animal springs upon his legs, that it is 
 not easy to discover the muscular process by which it is 
 effected. The horse rises first upon his forelegs, and the 
 domestic cow upon her hinder limbs, but the buffalo bounds 
 at once from a couchant to an erect position with a celerity 
 that bafl9.es the eye. Though from his bulk and rolling gait 
 he does not appear to run with much swiftness ; yet it takes a 
 stanch horse to overtake him, when at full speed on level 
 ground ; and a buffalo cow is still fleeter in her motion. 
 
 Among the Indians and half-breeds of the party were several 
 admirable horsemen and bold hunters, who amused them- 
 selves with a grotesque kind of buffalo bait. Whenever they 
 found a huge bull in the plains, they prepared for their teas- 
 ing and barbarous sport. Surrounding him on horseback, 
 they would discharge their arrows at him in quick succession, 
 goading him to make an attack; which, with a dexterous 
 movement of the horse, they would easily avoid. In this way 
 they hovered round him, feathering him with arrows, as he 
 reared and plunged about, until he was bristled all over like a 
 porcupine. When they perceived in him signs of exhaustion, 
 and he could no longer be provoked to make battle, they would 
 dismount from their horses, approach him in the rear, and 
 seizing him by the tail, jerk him from side to side, and drag 
 him backward; until the frantic animal, gathering fresh 
 strength from fury, would break from them, and rush, with 
 flashing eyes and a hoarse bellowing, upon any enemy in 
 
230 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 sight; but in a little while, his transient excitement at an end, 
 would pitch headlong on the ground and expire. The arrows 
 were then plucked forth, the tongue cut out and preserved as 
 a dainty, and the carcass left a banquet for the wolves. 
 
 Pursuing his course up Bear River, Captain Bonneville ar- 
 rived, on the 13th of June, at the Little Snake Lake ; where he 
 encamped for four or five days, that he might examine its 
 shores and outlets. The latter he found extremely muddy, 
 and so surrounded by swamps and quagmires that he was 
 obliged to construct canoes of rushes with which to explore 
 them. The mouths of all the streams which fall into this lake 
 from the west are marshy and inconsiderable ; but on the east 
 side there is a beautiful beach, broken occasionally by high 
 and isolated bluffs, which advance upon the lake, and heighten 
 the character of the scenery. The water is very shallow, but 
 abounds with trout, and other small fish. 
 
 Having finished his survey of the lake. Captain Bonneville 
 proceeded on his journey, until on the banks of the Bear River, 
 some distance higher up, he came upon the party which he 
 had detached a year before, to circumambulate the Great Salt 
 Lake, and ascertain its extent, and the nature of its shores. 
 They had been encamped here about twenty days ; and were 
 greatly rejoiced at meeting once more with their comrades 
 from whom they had so long been separated. The first in- 
 quiry of Captain Bonneville was about the result of their 
 journey, and the information they had procured as to the 
 Great Salt Lake, the object of his intense curiosity and am- 
 bition. The substance of their report will he found in the fol- 
 lowing chapter. 
 
' ADVEJSTURES OF GAPTAIE BO JS NEVILLE. 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXXYIII. 
 
 PLAN OF THE SALT LAKE EXPEDITION— GREAT SANDY DESERTS— 
 SUFFERINGS FROM THIRST— OGDEN’S RIVER— TRAILS AND SMOKE 
 OF LURKING SAVAGES— THEFTS AT NIGHT— A TRAPPER'S RE- 
 VENGE — ALARMS OF A GUILTY CONSCIENCE — A MURDEROUS 
 VICTORY— CALIFORNIAN MOUNTAINS— PLAINS ALONG THE PACI- 
 FIC — ARRIVAL AT MONTEREY— ACCOUNT OF THE PLACE AND 
 NEIGHBORHOOD— LOWER CALIFORNIA— ITS EXTENT— THE PEN- 
 INSULA — SOIL — CLIMATE — PRODUCTION — ITS SETTLEMENT BY 
 THE JESUITS— THEIR SWAY OVER THE INDIANS— THEIR EX- 
 PULSION-RUINS OF A MISSIONARY ESTABLISHMENT — SUBLIME 
 SCENERY— UPPER CALIFORNIA— MISSIONS— THEIR POWER AND 
 POLICY— RESOURCES OF THE COUNTRY— DESIGNS OF FOREIGN 
 NATIONS. 
 
 It was on the 24th of July, in the preceding year (1833), that 
 the brigade of forty men set out from Green Eiver valley, to 
 explore the Great Salt Lake. They were to make the complete 
 circuit of it, trapping on all the streams which should fpJl in 
 their way, and to keep journals and make charts, calculated 
 to impart a knowledge of the lake and the surrounding coun- 
 try. All the resources of Captain Bonneville had been tasked 
 to fit out this favorite expedition. The country lying to the 
 southwest of the mountains, and ranging down to California, 
 was as yet almost unknown; being out of the buffalo range, it 
 was untraversed by the trapper, who preferred those parts of 
 the wilderness where the roaming herds of that species of ani- 
 mal gave him comparatively an abundant and luxurious life. 
 Still it was said that the deer, the elk, and the bighorn were to 
 be found there, so that with a little diligence and economy, 
 there was no danger of lacking food. As a precaution, how- 
 ever, the party halted on Bear Eiver and hunted for a few 
 days, until they had laid in a supply of dried buffalo meat and 
 venison; they then passed by the head- waters of the Cassie 
 Eiver, and soon found themselves launched on an immense 
 sandy desert. Southwardly, on their left, they beheld the 
 Great Salt Lake spread out like a sea, but they found no 
 stream running into it. A desert extended around them, and 
 
332 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 stretched to the southwest as far as the eye could reach, rivah 
 ling the deserts of Asia and Africa in sterility. -There was 
 neither tree, nor herbage, nor spring, nor pool, nor running 
 stream— nothing but parched wastes of sand, where horse and 
 rider were in danger of perishing. 
 
 Their sufferings, at length, became so great that they aban- 
 doned their intended course, and made toward a range of 
 snowy mountains brightening in the north, where they hoped 
 to find water. After a time, they came upon a small stream 
 leading directly toward these mountains. Having quenched 
 their burning thirst, and refreshed themselves and their weary 
 horses for a time, they kept along this stream, which grad- 
 ually increased in size, being fed by numerous brooks. After 
 approaching the mountains, it took a sweep toward the south* 
 west, and tiie travellers still kept along it, trapping beaver as 
 they went, on the flesh of which they subsisted for the present, 
 husbanding their dried meat for future necessities. 
 
 The stream on which they had thus fallen is called by 
 some, Mary Eiver, but is more generally known as Ogden’s 
 River, from Mr. Peter Ogden, an enterprising and intrepid 
 leader of the Hudson’s Bay Company who first explored it. 
 The wild and half desert region through wliich the travel- 
 lers were passing is wandered over by hordes of Shoshokoes, 
 or Root Diggers, the forlorn branch of the Snake tribe. They 
 are a shy people, prone to keep aloof from the stranger. The 
 travellers frequently met with their trails and saw the smoke 
 of their fires rising in various parts of the vast landscape, 
 so that they knew there were great numbers in the neigh- 
 borhood, but scarcely ever were any of them to be met with. 
 
 After a time, they began to have vexatious proofs that, if 
 the Shoshokoes were quiet by day, they were busy at night. 
 The camp was dogged by these eavesdroppers ; scarce a morn- 
 ing but various articles were missing, yet nothing could be 
 seen of the marauders. What particularly exasperated the 
 hunters, was to have their traps stolen from the streams. 
 One morning a trapper of a violent and savage character, 
 discovering that his traps had been carried off in the night, 
 took a horrid oath to kill the first Indian he should meet, 
 innocent or guilty. As he was returning with his comrades 
 to camp, he beheld two unfortunate Diggers, seated on the 
 river bank, fishing. Advancing uponthem, he levelled his rifle, 
 shot one upon the spot, and flung his bleeding body into the 
 stream. The other Indian fled, and was suffered to escai)e. 
 
ADVENTUnm OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 233 
 
 Such is the indifference with which acts of violence are re- 
 garded in the wilderness, and such the immunity an armed 
 rufhan enjoys beyond the barriers of the laws, that the only 
 punishment this desperado met with, was a rebuke from 
 the leader of the party. 
 
 The trappers now left the scene of this infamous tragedy, and 
 kept on westward down the course of the river, which wound 
 along with a range of mountains on the right hand and a sandy 
 but somewhat fertile plain on the left. As they proceeded, 
 they beheld columns of smoke rising, as before, in various di- 
 rections, which their guilty consciences now converted into 
 alarm signals, to arouse the country and collect the scattered 
 bands for vengeance. 
 
 After a time the natives began to make their appearance, 
 and sometimes in considerable numbers, but always pacific; 
 the trappers, however, suspected them of deep-laid plans to 
 draw them into ambuscades ; to crowd into and get possession 
 of their camp, and various other crafty and daring conspiracies 
 which, it is probable, never entered into the heads of the poor 
 savages. In fact, they are a simple, timid, inoffensive race, 
 unpractised in warfare, and scarce provided with any weapons, 
 excepting for the chase. Their lives are passed in the great 
 sand plains and along the adjacent rivers; they subsist some- 
 times on fish, at other times on roots and the seeds of a plant 
 called the cat’s-tail. They are of the same kind of people that 
 Captain Bonneville found upon Snake Eiver, and whom he 
 found so mild and inoffensive. 
 
 The trappers, however, had persuaded themselves that they 
 were making their way through a hostile country, and that 
 implacable foes hung round their camp or beset their path, 
 watching for an opportunity to surprise them. At length one 
 day they came to the banks of a stream emptying into Ogden’s 
 River, which they were obliged to ford. Here a great number 
 of Shoshokoes were posted on the opposite bank. Persuaded 
 they were there with hostile intent, they advanced upon them, 
 levelled their rifles, and killed twenty-five of them on the spot. 
 The rest fled to a short distance, then halted and turned about 
 howling and whining like wolves, and uttering the most pite- 
 ous wailings. The trappers chased them in every direction ; 
 the poor wretches made no defence, but fled with terror; 
 neither does it appear from the accounts of the boasted victors, 
 that a weapon had been wielded or a weapon launched by the 
 Indians throughout the affair. We feel perfectly convinced 
 
234 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 that the poor savages had no hostile intention, but had merely 
 gathered together through motives of curiosity, as others of 
 their tribe had done when Captain Bonneville and his compan^ 
 ions passed along Snake River. 
 
 The trappers continued down Ogden’s River, until they as- 
 certained that it lost itself in a great swampy lake, to which 
 there was no apparent discharge. They then struck directly 
 westward, across the great chain of Californian mountains in- 
 tervening between these interior plains and the shores of the 
 Pacific. 
 
 For three and twenty days they were entangled among these 
 mountains, the peaks and ridges of which are in many places 
 covered with perpetual snow. Their passes and defiles present 
 the wildest scenery, partaking of the sublime rather than the 
 beautiful, and abounding with frightful precipices. The suffer- 
 ings of the travellers among these savage mountains were ex- 
 treme; for a part of the time they were nearly starved; at 
 length they made their way through them, and came down 
 upon the plains of New California, a fertile region extending 
 along the coast, with magnificent forests, verdant savannas, 
 and prairies that looked like stately parks. Here they found 
 deer and other game in abundance, and indemnified themselves 
 for past famine. They now turned toward the south, and 
 passing numerous small bands of natives, posted upon various 
 streams, arrived at the Spanish village and post of Monterey. 
 
 This is a small place, containing about two hundred houses, 
 situated in latitude 37^ north. It has a capacious bay, with in- 
 different anchorage. 'The surrounding country is extremely 
 fertile, especially in the valleys ; the soil is richer the further 
 you penetrate into the interior, and the climate is described as 
 a perpetual spring. Indeed, all California, extending along the 
 Pacific Ocean from latitude 19° 30' to 42° north, is represented 
 as one of the most fertile and beautiful regions in North 
 America. 
 
 Lower Calif omia, in length about seven hundred miles, forms 
 a great peninsula, which crosses the tropics and terminates in 
 the torrid zone. It is separated from the mainland by the Gulf 
 of California, sometimes called the Vermilion Sea ; into this gulf 
 empties the Colorado of the West, the Seeds-ke-dee, or Green 
 River, as it is also sometimes called. The peninsula is traversed 
 by stern and barren mountains, and has many sandy plains, 
 where the only sign of vegetation is the cylindrical cactus 
 growing among the clefts of the rocks. Wherever there is 
 
ADVENTURES OF CARTA IN BONNEVILLE. 235 
 
 water, however, and vegetable mould, the ardent nature of the 
 chmate quickens everything into astonishing fertility. There 
 are valleys luxuriant with the rich and beautiful productions 
 of the tropics. There the sugar-cane and indigo plant attain a 
 perfection unequalled in any other part of North America. 
 There flourish the olive, the fig, the date, the orange, the cit- 
 ron, the pomegranate, and other fruits belonging to the volup- 
 tuous climates of the south ; with grapes in abundance, thpt 
 yield a generous wine. In the interior are salt plains ; silver 
 mines and scanty veins of gold are said, hkewise, to exist; 
 and pearls of a beautiful water are to be fished upon the coast. 
 
 The peninsula of. California was settled in 1698, by the 
 Jesuits, who, certainly, as far as the natives were concerned, 
 have generally proved the most beneficent of colonists. In the 
 present instance, they gained and maintained a footing in the 
 country without the aid of military force, but solely by reli- 
 gious influence. They formed a treaty, and entered into the 
 most amicable relations with the natives, then numbering from 
 twenty-five to thirty thousand souls, and gained a hold upon 
 their affections, and a control over their minds, that effected 
 a complete change in their condition. They built eleven nus- 
 sionary establishments in the various valleys of the peninsula, 
 which formed rallying places for the surrounding savages, 
 where they gathered together as sheep into the fold, and sur- 
 rendered themselves and their consciences into the hands of 
 these spiritual pastors. Nothing, we are told, could exceed the 
 implicit and affectionate devotion of the Indian converts to the 
 Jesuit fathers, and the Catholic faith was disseminated widely 
 through the wilderness. 
 
 The growing power and influence of the Jesuits in the New 
 World at length excited the jealousy of the Spanish govern- 
 ment, and they were banished from the colonies. The gover- 
 nor, who arrived in California to expel them, and to take 
 charge of the country, expected to find a rich and powerful 
 fraternity, with immense treasures hoarded in their missions, 
 and an army of Indians ready to defend them. On the con- 
 trary, he beheld a few venerable silver-haired priests coming 
 humbly forward to meet him, followed by a throng of weeping, 
 but submissive natives. The heart of the governor, it is said, 
 was so touched by this unexpected sight that he shed tears-, 
 but he had to execute his orders. The Jesuits were accom- 
 panied to the place of their embarkation by their simple and 
 affectionate parishioners, who took leave of them with tears 
 
236 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 and sobs. Many of the latter abandoned their hereditary 
 abodes, and wandered off to join their southern brethren, so 
 that but a remnant remained in the peninsula. The Francis- 
 cans immediately succeeded the Jesuits, and subsequently the 
 Dominicans ; but the latter managed their affairs ill. But two 
 of the missionary establishments are at present occupied by 
 priests ; the rest are all in ruins, excepting one, which remains 
 a monument of the former power and prosperity of the order. 
 This is a noble edifice, once the seat of the chief of the resident 
 Jesuits. It is situated in a beautiful valley, about half way 
 between the Gulf of Cahfornia and the broad ocean, the penin- 
 sula being here about sixty miles wide. The edifice is of hewn 
 stone, one story high, two hundred and ten feet in front, and 
 about fifty-five feet deep. The walls are six feet thick, and 
 sixteen feet higli, with a vaulted roof of stone, about two feet 
 and a half in thickness. It is now abandoned and desolate ; 
 the beautiful valley is without an inhabitant — not a human 
 being resides within thirty miles of the place ! 
 
 In approaching this deserted mission-house from the south, 
 the traveller passes over the mountain of San Juan, supposed 
 to be the highest peak in the Cahfornias. From this lofty 
 eminence, a vast and magnificent prospect unfolds itself ; the 
 great Gulf of California, with the dark blue sea beyond, stud- 
 ded with islands ; and in another direction, the immense lava 
 plain of San Gabriel. The splendor of the climate gives an 
 Italian effect to the immense prospect. The sky is of a deep 
 blue color, and the sunsets are often magnificent beyond de- 
 scription. Such is a slight and imperfect sketch of this remark- 
 able peninsula. 
 
 Upper California extends from latitude 31° 10' to 42° on the 
 Pacific, and inland, to the great chain of snow-capped moun- 
 tains which divide it from the sand plains of the interior. 
 There are about twenty-one missions in this province, most of 
 which were established about fifty years since, and are gener- 
 ally under the care of the Franciscans. These exert a protect- 
 ing sway over about thirty-five thousand Indian converts, who 
 reside on the lands around the mission houses. Each of these 
 houses has fifteen miles square of land allotted to it, subdivided 
 into small lots, proportioned to the number of Indian con- 
 verts attached to the mission. Some are enclosed with high 
 walls; but in general they are open hamlets, composed of rows 
 of huts, built of sunburned bricks ; in some instances white- 
 washed and roofed with tiles. Many of them are far in the 
 
AVVKJSTUliILh 0¥ CAPTAIN BONNKYILLIU. 
 
 3H7 
 
 interior, beyond the reach of all military protection, and de 
 pendent entirely on the good-will of the natives, which never 
 fails them. They have made considerable progress in teaching 
 the Indians the useful arts. There are native tanners, shoe- 
 makers, weavers, blacksmiths, stonecutters, and other artifi- 
 cers attached to each establishment. Others are taught 
 husbandry, and the rearing of cattle and horses; while the 
 females card and spin wool, weave, and perform the other 
 duties allotted to their sex in civilized life. No socia] inter- 
 course is allowed between the unmarried of the opposite sexes 
 after working hours ; and at night they are locked up in sepa- 
 rate apartments, and the keys delivered to the priests. 
 
 The produce of the lands, and all the profits arising from 
 sales, are entirely at the disposal of the priests ; whatever is 
 not required for the support of the missions goes to augment a 
 fund which is under their control. Hides and tallow constitute 
 the principal riches of the missions, and, indeed, the main 
 commerce of the country. Grain might be produced to an un- 
 limited extent at the establishments, were there a sufficient 
 market for it. Olives and grapes are also reared at the mis- 
 sions. 
 
 Horses and horned cattle abound throughout all this region; 
 the former may be purchased at from three to five doUars, but 
 they are of an inferior breed. Mules, which are here of a large 
 size and of valuable qualities, cost from seven to ten dollars. 
 
 There are several excellent ports along this coast. San 
 Diego, San Barbara, Monterey, the bay of San Francisco, and 
 the northern port of Bondago ; all afford anchorage for ships 
 of the largest class. The port of San Francisco is too well 
 known to require much notice in this place. The entrance 
 from the sea is sixty-seven fathoms deep, and within, whole 
 navies might ride with perfect safety. Two large rivers, 
 which take their rise in mountains two or three hundred miles 
 to the east, and run through a country unsurpassed for soil 
 and climate, empty themselves into the harbor. The country 
 around affords admirable timber for sliip-building. In a word, 
 this favored port combines advantages which not only fit it for 
 a grand naval depot, but almost render it capable of being 
 made the dominant military post of these seas. 
 
 Such is a feeble outline of the Californian coast and country, 
 the value of which is more and more attracting the attention 
 of naval powers. The Russians have always a ship of war 
 upon this station, and have alrcad7f encroached upon the Cali- 
 
238 ADVENTURES OF 0 APT AIN BONNEVILTE, 
 
 fornian boundaries, by taking possession of the port of Bon 
 dago, and fortifying it with several guns. Kecent surveys 
 have likewise been made, both by the Russians and the Eng- 
 hsh, and we have little doubt, that, at no very distant day, this 
 neglected, and, until recently, almost unknown region, will be 
 found to possess sources of wealth sufficient to sustain a power- 
 ful and prosperous empire. Its inhabitants themselves are but 
 little aware of its real riches ; they have not enterprise suffi- 
 cient to acquaint themselves with a vast interior that lies 
 almost a terra incognita ; nor have they the skill and industry 
 to cultivate properly the fertile tracts along the coast ; nor to 
 prosecute that foreign commerce which brings aU the resources 
 of a country into profitable action. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 GAY LIFE AT MONTEREY- MEXICAN HORSEMEN— A BOLD DRAGOON 
 —USE OF THE LASSO— VAQUEROS— NOOSING A BEAR— FIGHT 
 BETWEEN A BULL AND A BEAR— DEPARTURE FROM MONTEREY 
 —INDIAN HORSE-STEALERS— OUTRAGES COMMITTED BY THE 
 TRAVELLERS— INDIGNATION OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 The wandering band of trappers were weU received at Mon- 
 terey, the inhabitants were desirous of retaining them among 
 them, and offered extravagant wages to such as were ac- 
 quainted with any mechanic art. When they went into the 
 country, too, they were kindly treated by the priests at the 
 missions; who are always hospitable to strangers, whatever 
 may be their rank or religion. They had no lack of provisions ; 
 being permitted to kill as many as they pleased of the vast 
 herds of cattle that graze the country, on condition, merely, 
 of rendering the hides to the owners. They attended bull- 
 fights and horse races ; forgot all the purposes of their expedi- 
 tion; squandered away, freely, the property that did not be 
 long to them; and, in a word, revelled in a perfect fool’s 
 paradise. 
 
 What especially delighted them was the equestrian skill of 
 the Californians. The vast number and the cheapness of the 
 horses in this country makes every one a cavalier. The Mexi- 
 cans and half-breeds of California sjoend the greater part ot 
 
aDVENTUIIES of captain BONNEVILLE. 239 
 
 their time in the saddle. They are fearless riders ; and their 
 daring feats upon unbroken colts and wild horses astonished 
 our trappers, though accustomed to the bold riders of the 
 prairie. 
 
 A Mexican horseman has much resemblance, in many points, 
 to the equestrians of Old Spain, and especially to the vain- 
 glorious Caballero of Andalusia. A Mexican dragoon, for 
 instance, is represented as arrayed in a round blue jacket, with 
 red cuifs and collar; blue velvet breeches, unbuttoned at the 
 knees to show his white stockings; bottinas of deer skin; a 
 round-crowned Andalusian hat, and his hair cued. On the 
 pommel of his saddle he carries balanced a long musket, with 
 fox-skin round the lock. He is cased in a cuirass of double- 
 fold deer-skin, and carries a bull’s hide shield ; he is forked in 
 a Moorish saddle, high before and behind ; his feet are thrust 
 into wooden box stirrups, of Moorish fashion, and a tremen- 
 dous pair of iron spurs, fastened by chains, jingle at his heels. 
 Thus equipped, and suitably mounted, he considers himself the 
 glory of California and the terror of the universe. 
 
 The Californian horsemen seldom ride out without the lasso ; 
 that is to say, a long coil of cord, with a slip noose ; with which 
 they are expert, almost to a miracle. The lasso, now almost 
 entirely confined to Spanish America, is said to be of great 
 antiquity ; and to have come originally from the East. It was 
 used, we are told, by a pastoral people of Persian descent ; of 
 whom eight thousand accompanied the army of Xerxes. By 
 the Spanish Americans it is used for a variety of purposes; 
 and among others for hauling wood. Without dismounting, 
 they cast the noose round a log, and thus drag it to their 
 houses. The vaqueros, or Indian cattle drivers, have also 
 learned the use of the lasso from the Spaniards, and employ it 
 io catch the half -wild cattle by throwing it round their horns. 
 
 The lasso is also of great use in furnishing the public with a 
 favorite though barbarous sport ; the combat between a bear 
 and a wild bull. For this purpose, three or four horsemen 
 sally forth to some wood frequented by bears, and, depositing 
 the carcass of a bullock, hide themselves in the vicinity. The 
 bears are soon attracted by the bait. As soon as one, fit for 
 their purpose, makes his appearance, they run out, and with 
 the lasso, dexterously noose him by either leg. After dragging 
 him at full speed until he is fatigued, they secure him more 
 effectually ; and tying him on the carcass of the bullock, draw 
 him in triumph to the scene of action. By this time he is ex- 
 
240 VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 asperated to such frenzy that they are sometimes obliged to 
 throw cold water on him, to moderate his fury; and dangerous 
 would it be for horse and rider were he, while in this paroxysm, 
 to break his bonds. 
 
 A wild bull, of the fiercest kind, which has been caught and 
 exasperated in the same manner, is now produced, and both 
 animals are turned loose in the arena of a small amphitheatre. 
 The mortal fight begins instantly ; and always, at first, to the 
 disadvantage of Bruin; fatigued, as he is, by his previous 
 rough riding. Eoused, at length, by the repeated goring of the 
 bull, he seizes his muzzle with his sharp claws, and chnging to 
 this most sensitive part, causes him to bellow with rage hnd 
 agony. In his heat and fury, the bull lolls out his tongue ; this 
 is instantly clutched by the bear; with a desperate effort he 
 overturns his huge antagonist, and then dispatches him with- 
 out difficulty. 
 
 Beside this diversion, the travellers were likewise regaled 
 with bull fights, in the genuine style of Old Spain ; the Cali- 
 fornians being considered the best bull* fighters in the Mexican 
 dominions. 
 
 After a considerable sojourn at Monterey, spent in these 
 very edifying, but not very profitable amusements, the leader 
 of this vagabond party set out with his comrades on his return 
 journey. Instead of retracing their steps through the moun- 
 tains, they passed round their southern extremity, and, cross- 
 ing a range of low hills, found themselves in the sandy plains 
 south of Ogden’s Eiver; in traversing which, they again suf- 
 fered grievously for want of water. 
 
 In the course of their journey, they encountered a party of 
 Mexicans in pursuit of a gang of natives, who had been steal- 
 ing horses. The savages of this part of California are repre- 
 sented as extremely poor, and armed only with stone-pointed 
 arrows ; it being the wise policy of the Spaniards not to fur- 
 nish them with firearms. As they find it difficult, with their 
 blunt shafts, to kill the wild game of the mountains, they oc* 
 casionally supply themselves with food, by entrapping the 
 Spanish horses. Driving them stealthily into fastnesses and 
 ravines, they slaughter them without difficulty, and dry their 
 flesh for provisions. Some they carry off, to trade with dis- 
 tant tribes ; and in this way, the Spanish horses pass from 
 hand to hand among the Indians, until they even find their 
 way across the Eocky Mountains. 
 
 The Mexicans are continually on the alert, to intercept these 
 
ADVE^^'TUnu:S OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 241 
 
 marauders ; but the Indians are apt to outwit them, and force 
 them to make long and wild expeditions in pursuit of their 
 stolen horses. 
 
 Two of the Mexican party just mentioned joined the band 
 of trappers, and proved themselves worthy companions. In 
 the course of their journey through the country frequented by 
 the poor Eoot Diggers, there seems to have been an emulation 
 ]3etween them, which could inflict the greatest outrages upon 
 the natives. The trappers still considered them in the light 
 of dangerous foes and the Mexicans, very probably, charged 
 them with the sin of horse-stealing; we have no other mode of 
 accoimting for the infamous barbarities of which, according to 
 their own story, they were guilty; hunting the poor Indians 
 like wild beasts, and killing them without mercy. The Mexi- 
 cans excelled at this savage sport ; chasing their unfortunate 
 victims at full speed; noosing them round the neck with 
 their lassoes, and then dragging them to death ! 
 
 Such are the scanty details of this most disgraceful expedi- 
 tion; at least, such are all that Captain Bonneville had the 
 patience to collect, for he was so deeply grieved by the failure 
 of his plans, and so indignant at the atrocities related to him, 
 that he turned, with disgust and horror, from the narrators. 
 Had he exerted a little of the Lynch law of the wilderness, and 
 hanged those dexterous horsemen in their own lassoes, it would 
 but have been a well-merited and salutary act of retributive 
 justice. The failure of this expedition was a blow to his pride, 
 and a still greater blow to his purse. The Great Salt Lake 
 still remained unexplored ; at the same time, the means which 
 had been furnished so liberally to fit out this favorite expedi- 
 tion, had all been squandered at Monterey ; and the peltries, 
 also, which had been collected on the way. He would have 
 but scanty returns, therefore, to make this year, to his asso- 
 ciates in the United States; and there was great danger of 
 their becoming disheartened, and abandoning the enterprise. 
 
242 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 travellers’ tales— INDIAN LURKERS — PROGNOSTICS OF BUCK- 
 EYE— SIGNS AND PORTENTS — THE MEDICINE WOLF— AN ALARM— 
 AN AMBUSH — THE CAPTURED PRO V ANT— TRIUMPH OF BUCKEYE 
 — ARRIVAL OF SUPPLIES— GRAND CAROUSE— ARRANGEMENTS FOR 
 THE YEAR— MR. WYETH AND HIS NEW-LEVIED BAND. 
 
 The horror and indignation felt by Captain Bonneville at 
 the excesses of the Californian adventurers were not partici- 
 pated by his men ; on the contrary, the events of that expedi- 
 tion were favorite themes in the camp. The heroes of Mom 
 terey bore the palm in all the gossipings among the hunters. 
 Their glowing descriptions of Spanish bear-baits and bull- 
 fights especially, were listened to with intense delight; and 
 had another expedition to California been proposed, the diffi- 
 culty would have been to restrain a general eagerness to 
 volunteer. 
 
 The captain had not long been at the rendezvous when he 
 perceived, by various signs, that Indians were lurking in the 
 neighborhood. It was evident that the Blackfoot band, which 
 he had seen when on his march, had dogged his party, and 
 were intent on mischief. He endeavored to keep his camp on 
 the alert; but it is as difficult to maintain discipline among 
 trappers at a rendezvous as among sailors when in port. 
 
 Buckeye, the Delaware Indian, was scandalized at this 
 heedlessness of the hunters when an enemy was at hand, and 
 was continually preaching up caution. He was a little prone 
 to play the prophet, and to deal in signs and portents, which 
 occasionally excited the merriment of his white comrades. 
 He was a great dreamer, and believed in charms and talis 
 mans, or medicines, and could foretell the approach of 
 strangers by the howling or barking of the small prairie wolf. 
 This animal, being driven by the larger wolves from the car- 
 casses left on the hunting grounds by the hunters, follows the 
 trail of the fresh meat carried to the camp. Here the smell of 
 the roast and broiled, mingling with every breeze, keeps them 
 hovering about the neighborhood ; scenting every blast, turn- 
 ing up their noses like hungry hounds, and testifying their 
 
ABVENTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 243 
 
 pinching hunger by long whining howls and impatient bark- 
 ings. These are interpreted by the superstitious Indians into 
 warnings that strangers are at hand ; and one accidental coin- 
 cidence, like the chance fulfilment of an almanac prediction, 
 is sufficient to cover a thousand failures. This little, whining, 
 feast-smelling animal is, therefore, called among Indians the 
 “medicine wolf;” and such was one of Buckeye’s infallible 
 oracles. 
 
 One morning early, the soothsaying Delaware appeared with 
 a gloomy countenance. His mind was full of dismal presenti- 
 ments, whether from mysterious dreams, or the intimations of 
 the medicine wolf, does not appear. “ Danger,” he said, “ was 
 lurking in their path, and there would be some fighting before 
 sunset.” He was bantered for his prophecy, which was at- 
 tributed to his having supped too heartily, and been visited by 
 bad dreams. In the course of the morning a party of hunters 
 set out in pursuit of buffalo, taking with them a mule, to bring 
 home the meat they should procure. They had been some 
 few hours absent, when they came clattering at full speed 
 into camp, giving the war cry of Blackfeet ! Blackfeet ! Every 
 one seized his weapon, and ran to learn the cause of the alarm. 
 It appeared that the hunters, as they were returning leisurely, 
 leading their mule well laden with prime pieces of buffalo 
 meat, passed close by a small stream overhung with trees, 
 about two miles from the camp. Suddenly a party of Black- 
 feet, who lay in ambush along the thickets, sprang up with a 
 fearful yell, and discharged a voUey at the hunters. The latter 
 immediately threw themselves flat on their horses, put them 
 to their speed, and never paused to look behind, until they 
 found themselves in camp. Fortunately, they had escaped 
 without a wound; but the mule, with all the “provant,” had 
 fallen into the hands of the enemy. This was a loss, as well 
 as an insult, not to be borne. Every man sprang to horse, 
 and with rifle in hand, galloped off to punish the Blackfeet, 
 and rescue the buffalo beef. They came too late ; the maraud- 
 ers were off, and all that they found of their mule was the 
 dents of his hoofs, as he had been conveyed off at a round 
 trot, bearing his savory cargo to the hills, to furnish the 
 scampering savages with a banquet of roast meat at the ex- 
 pense of the white men. 
 
 The party returned to camp, balked of their revenge, but 
 still more grievously balked of their supper. Buckeye, the 
 Delaware, sg^t sraoking by his fire, perfectly composed. 
 
244 AVVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 the hunters related the particulars of the attack, he listened 
 in silence, with unruffled countenance, then pointing to the 
 west, ‘‘the sun has not yet set,” said he: “Buckeye did not 
 dream like a fool !” 
 
 All present now recollected the prediction of the Indian at 
 daybreak, and were struck with what appeared to be its fulfil- 
 ment. They called to mind, also, a long catalogue of foregone 
 presentiments and predictions made at various times by the 
 Delaware, and, in their superstitious credulity, began to con- 
 sider him a veritable seer ; without thinking how natural it 
 was to predict danger, and how likely to have the prediction 
 verified in the present instance, when various signs gave evi- 
 dence of a lurking foe. 
 
 The various bands of Captain Bonneville’s company had now 
 been assembled for some time at the rendezvous ; they had had 
 their fill of feasting, and frolicking, and aU the species of wild 
 and often uncouth merry-making, which invariably take place 
 on these occasions. Their horses, as well as themselves, had 
 recovered from past famine and fatigue, and were again fit for 
 active service; and an impatience began to manifest itself 
 among the men once more to take the field, and set olf on 
 some wandering expedition. 
 
 At this juncture M. Cerre arrived at the rendezvous at the 
 head of a supply party, bringing goods and equipments from 
 the States. This active leader, it will be recollected, had em- 
 barked the year previously in skin-boats on the Bighorn, 
 freighted with the year’s collection of peltries. He had met 
 with misfortunes in the course of his voyage : one of his frail 
 barks being upset, and part of the furs lost or damaged. 
 
 The arrival of the supplies gave the regular finish to the 
 annual revel. A grand outbreak of wild debauch ensued 
 among the mountaineers ; drinking, dancing, swaggering, 
 gambling, quarrelling, and fighting. Alcohol, which, from 
 its portable qualities, containing the greatest quantity of. 
 fiery spirit in the smallest compass, is the only liquor carried 
 across the mountains^ is the inflammatory beverage at these 
 carousals, and is dealt out to the trappers at four dollars a 
 pint. When inflamed by this fiery beverage, they cut all 
 kinds of mad pranks and gambols, and sometimes burn all 
 their clothes in their drunken bravadoes. A camp, recovering 
 from one of these riotous revels, presents a serio-comic specta- 
 cle; black eyes, broken heads, lack-lustre visages. Many of 
 the trappers have squandered in one drunken Holic the hard' * 
 
AnVENTURRS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 245 
 
 earned wages of a year ; some have run in debt, and must toil 
 on to pay for past pleasure. All are sated with this deep 
 draught of pleasure, and eager to commence another trapping 
 campaign ; for hardship and hard work, spiced with the stim- 
 ulants of wild adventures, and topped olf with an annual fran- 
 tic carousal, is the lot of the restless trapper. 
 
 The captain now made his arrangements for the current 
 year. Cerre and Walker, with a number of men who had 
 been to California, were to proceed to St. Louis with the pack» 
 ages of furs collected during the past year. Another party, 
 headed by a leader named Montero, was to proceed to the 
 Crow country, trap upon its various streams, and among the 
 Black Hills, and thence to proceed to the Arkansas, where he 
 was to go into winter quarters. 
 
 The captain marked out for himself a widely different 
 course. He intended to make another expedition, with 
 twenty-three men to the lower part of the Columbia River, 
 and to proceed to the valley of the Multnomah; after winter- 
 ing in those parts, and establishing a trade with those tribes, 
 among whc«?^ he had sojourned on his first visit, he would 
 return in the spring, cross the Rocky Mountains, and join 
 Montero and his party in the month of July, at the rendezvous 
 of the Arkansaw ; where he expected to receive his annual sup- 
 plies from the States. 
 
 If the reader will cast his eye upon a map, he may form an 
 idea of the contempt for distance which a man acquires in this 
 vast wilderness, by noticing the extent of country comprised 
 in these projected wanderings. Just as the different parties 
 were about to set out op the 3d of July, on their opposite, 
 routes. Captain Bonneville received intelligence that Wyeth, 
 the indefatigable leader of the salmon-fishing enterprise, who 
 had parted v/ith him about a year previously on the banks of 
 the Bighorn, to descend that wild river in a bull boat, was near 
 at hand, with a new levied band of hunters and trappers, and 
 was on his way once more to the banks of the Columbia. 
 
 As we take much interest in the novel enterprise of this 
 ‘‘eastern man,” and are pleased with his pushing and perse- 
 vering spirit ; and as his movements are characteristic of life 
 in the wilderness, we will, with the reader’s permission, while 
 Captain Bonneville is breaking up his camp and saddling his 
 horses, step back a year in time, and a few hundred miles in 
 distance, to the bank of the Bighorn, and launch ourselves 
 with Wyeth in his bull boat; and though his adventurous 
 
246 aj:)Ventures of captain Bonneville. 
 
 voyage will take us many hundreds of miles further down 
 wild and wandering rivers; yet such is the magic power of 
 the pen, that we promise to bring the reader safe to Bear 
 River valley, by the time the last horse is saddled. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 A VOYAGE IN A BULL BOAT. 
 
 It was about the middle of August (1833) that Mr. Nathaniel 
 J. Wyeth, as the reader may recollect, launched his bull boat 
 at the foot of the rapids of the Bighorn, and departed in ad- 
 vance of the parties of Campbell and Captain BonneviUe. His 
 boat was made of three buffalo skins, stretched on a light 
 frame, stitched together, and the seams paid with elk tallow 
 and ashes. It was eighteen feet long, and about five feet six 
 inches wide, sharp at each end, with a round bottom, and drew 
 about a foot and a half of water— a depth too great for these 
 upper rivers, which abound with shallows and sand-bars. The 
 crew consisted of two half-breeds, who claimed to be white 
 men, though a mixture of the French creole and the Shawnee 
 and Potawattomie. They claimed, moreover, to be thorough 
 mountaineers, and first-rate hunters — the common boast of 
 these vagabonds of the wilderness. Besides these, there was 
 a Nez Perce lad of eighteen years of age, a kind of servant of 
 all work, whose great aim, like all Indian servants, was to do 
 as little work as possible; there was, moreover, a half-breed 
 boy, of thirteen, named Baptiste, son of a Hudson’s Bay trader 
 by a Flathead beauty; who was travelling with Wyeth to see 
 the world and complete his education. Add to these, Mr. Mil- 
 ton Sublette, who went as passenger, and we have the crew of 
 the httle bull boat complete. 
 
 It certainly was a slight armament with which to run the 
 gauntlet through countries swarming with hostile hordes, and 
 a slight bark to navigate these endless rivers, tossing and 
 pitching down rapids, running on snags and bumping on sand- 
 bars; such, however, are the cockle-shells with which these 
 hardy rovers of the wilderness will attempt the wildest 
 streams ; and it is surprising what rough shocks and thumps 
 these boats will endure, and what vicissitudes they will live 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 247 
 
 through. Their duration, however, is but limited; they re- 
 quire frequently to be hauled out of the water and dried, to 
 prevent the hides from becoming water-soaked; and they 
 eventually rot and go to pieces. 
 
 The course of the river was a little to the north of east; it 
 ran about five miles an hour, over a gravelly bottom. The 
 banks were generally alluvial, and thickly grown with cotton 
 wood trees, intermingled occasionally with ash and plum treeSc 
 Now and then limestone cliffs and promontories advanced 
 upon the river, making picturesque headlands. Beyond the 
 woody borders rose ranges of naked hills. 
 
 Milton Sublette was the Pelorus of this adventurous bark; 
 being somewhat experienced in this wild kind of navigation. 
 It required all his attention and skill, however, to pilot her 
 clear of sand-bars and snags of sunken trees. There was often, 
 too, a perplexity of choice, where the river branched into 
 various channels, among clusters of islands : and occasionally 
 the voyagers found themselves aground and had to turn back. 
 
 It was necessary, also, to keep a wary eye upon the land, 
 for they were passing through the heart of the Crow country, 
 and were continually in reach of any ambush that might be 
 lurking on shore. The most formidable foes that they saw, 
 however, were three grizzly bears, quietly promenading along 
 the bank, who seemed to gaze at them with surprise as they 
 glided by. Herds of buffalo, also, were moving about, or 
 lying on the ground, like cattle in a pasture ; excepting such 
 inhabitants as these, a perfect solitude reigned over the land. 
 There was no sign of human habitation ; for the Crows, as we 
 have already shown, are a wandering people, a race of hunters 
 and warriors, who live in tents and on horseback, and are con- 
 tinually on the move. 
 
 At night they landed, hauled up their boat to dry, pitched 
 their tent, and made a rousing fire. Then, as it was the first 
 evening of their voyage, they indulged in a regale, relishing 
 their buffalo beef with inspiring alcohol; after which, they 
 slept soundly, without dreaming of Crows or Blackfeet. Early 
 in the morning, they again launched the boat and committed 
 themselves to the stream. 
 
 In this way they voyaged for two days without any material 
 occurrence, excepting a severe thunder storm, wMch com- 
 pelled them to put to shore, and wait until it was passed. On 
 the third morning they descried some persons at a distance on 
 the river bank. As they were now, by calculation, at no great 
 
248 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 distance from Fort Cass, a trading post of the American Fur 
 Company, they supposed these might be some of its people. 
 A nearer approach showed them to be Indians. Descrying a 
 woman apart from the rest, they landed and accosted her. 
 She informed them that the main force of the Crow nation, 
 consisting of five bands, under their several chiefs, were but 
 about two or three miles below, on their way up along the 
 river. This was unpleasant tidings, but to retreat was impos- 
 sible, and the river afforded no hiding place. They continued 
 forward, therefore, trusting that, as Fort Cass was so near at 
 hand, the Crows might refrain from any depredations. 
 
 Floating down about two miles further, they came in sight 
 of the first band, scattered along the river bank, all well 
 mounted; some armed with guns, others with bows and ar- 
 rows, and a few with lances. They made a wildly picturesque 
 appearance, managing their horses with their accustomed dex- 
 terity and grace. Nothing can be more spirited than a band 
 of Crow cavaliers. They are a fine race of men, averaging six 
 feet in height, lithe and active, with hawks’ eyes and Eoman ' 
 noses. The latter feature is common to the Indians on the 
 east side of the Rocky Mountains ; those on the western side 
 have generally straight or flat noses. 
 
 Wyeth would fain have slipped by this cavalcade unnoticed; 
 but the river, at this place, was not more than ninety yards 
 across; he was perceived, therefore, and hailed by the vaga- 
 bond warriors, and, we presume, in no very choice language ; 
 for, among their other accomplishments, the Crows are famed 
 for possessing a Billingsgate vocabulary of unrivalled opu- 
 lence, and for being by no means sparing of it whenever an 
 occasion offers. Indeed, though Indians are generally very 
 lofty, rhetorical, and figurative in their language at all great 
 talks, and high ceremonials, yet, if trappers and traders may 
 be believed, they are the most unsavory vagabonds in their 
 ordinary colloquies ; they make no hesitation to call a spade a 
 spade ; and when they once undertake to call hard names, the 
 famous pot and kettle, of vituperating memory, are not to be 
 compared with them for scurrility of epithet. 
 
 To escape the infliction of any compliments of this kind, or 
 the launching, peradventure, of more dangerous missiles, 
 Wyeth landed with the best grace in his power, and ap- 
 proached the chief of the band. It was Arapooish, the quon- 
 dam friend of Rose the outlaw, and one whom we have al- 
 ready mentioned as being anxious to promote a friendly inter' 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 249 
 
 course between his tribe and the white men. He was a tall, 
 stout man, of good presence, and received the voyagers very 
 graciously. His people, too, thronged around them, and were 
 officiously attentive after the Crow fashion. One took a great 
 fancy to Baptiste the Flathead boy, and a still greater fancy 
 to a ring on his finger, which he transposed to his own \’rith 
 surprising dexterity, and then disappeared with a quick step 
 among the crowd. 
 
 Another was no less pleased with the Nez Perce lad, ajid 
 nothing would do but he must exchange knives with him ; 
 drawing a new knife out of the Nez Perce’s scabbard, and 
 putting an old one in its place. Another stepped up and 
 replaced this old knife with one still older, and a third helped 
 himself to knife, scabbard and all. It was with much diffi- 
 culty that Wyeth and his companions extricated themselves 
 from the clutches of these officious Crows before they were 
 entirely plucked. 
 
 Falling down the river a little further, they came in sight of 
 the second band, and sheered to the opposite side, with the 
 intention of passing them. The Crows were not to be evaded. 
 Some pointed their guns at the boat, and threatened to fire ; 
 others stripped, plunged into the stream, and came swimming 
 across. Making a virtue of necessity, Wyeth threw a cord to 
 the first that came within reach, as if he wished to be drawn 
 to the shore. 
 
 In this way he was overhauled by every band, and by the 
 time he and his people came out of the busy hands of the last, 
 they were eased of most of their superfluities. Nothing, in all 
 probabihty, but the proximity of the American trading post, 
 kept these land pirates from making a good prize of the bull 
 boat and all its contents. 
 
 These bands were in full march, equipped for war, and 
 evidently full of mischief. They were, in fact, the very bands 
 that overran the land in thb autumn of 1833; partly robbed 
 Fitzpatrick of his horses and effects; hunted and harassed 
 Captain Bonneville and his people; broke up their trapping 
 campaigns, and, in a word, drove them all out of the Crow 
 country. It has been suspected that they were set on to these 
 pranks by some of the American Fur Company, anxious to 
 defeat the plans of their rivals of the Eocky Mountain Com- 
 pany ; for at this time, their ‘competition was at its height, and 
 the trade of the Crow country was a great object of rivalry. 
 What makes this the more probable, is, that the Crows 
 
250 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 their depredation seemed by no means bloodthirsty, but intent 
 chiefly on robbing the parties of their traps and horses, 
 thereby disabling them from prosecuting their hunting- 
 
 We should observe that this year, ‘he Eocky Mountain 
 Company were pushing their way up the rivers, and establish- 
 ing rival posts near those of the American Company; and 
 that, at the very time of which we are speaking, Captain Sub- 
 lette was ascending the Yellowstone with a keel boat, laden 
 with supplies ; so that there was every prospect of this eager 
 rivalship being carried to extremities. 
 
 The last band of Crow warriors had scarce disappeared in 
 the cloud of dust they had raised, when our voyagers arrived 
 at the mouth of the river, and glided into the current of the 
 Yellowstone. Turning down this stream, they made for Fort 
 Cass, which is situated on the right bank, about three miles 
 below the Bighorn. On the opposite side they beheld a party 
 of thirty-one savages, which they soon ascertained to be 
 Blackfeet. The width of the river enabled them to keep at a 
 sufficient distance, and they soon landed at Fort Cass. This 
 was a mere f oi tiflcation against Indians ; being a stockade of 
 about one hundred and thirty feet square, with two bastions 
 at the extreme corners. M’TuUoch, an agent of the American 
 Company, was stationed there with twenty men ; two boats of 
 fifteen tons burden were lying here ; but at certain seasons of 
 the year a steamboat can come up to the fort. 
 
 They had scarcely arrived, when the Blackfeet warriors 
 made their appearance on the opposite bank, displaying two 
 American flags in token of amity. They plunged into the 
 river, swam across, and were kindly received at the fort. 
 They were some of the very men who had been engaged, the 
 year previously, in the battle at Pierre’s Hole, and a fierce- 
 looking set of fellows they were; tall and hawk-nosed, and 
 very much resembhng the Crows. They professed to be on an 
 amicable errand, to make peace with the Crows, and set off in 
 all haste, before night, to overtake them. Wyeth predicted 
 that they would lose their scalps; for he had heard the Crows 
 denounce vengeance on them, for having murdered two of 
 their warriors who had ventured among them on the faith of 
 a treaty of peace. It is probable, however, that this pacific 
 errand was all a pretence, and that the real object of the 
 Blackfeet braves was to hang about the skirts of the Crow 
 bands, steal their horses, and take the scalps of stragglers. 
 
 At Fort Cass, Mr. Wyeth disposed of some packages oJ 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 2b I 
 
 beaver, and a quantity of bufEalo robes. On the following 
 morning (August 18 th), he once more launched his bull boat, 
 and proceeded down the Yellowstone, which inclined in an 
 east-northeast direction. The river had alluvial bottoms, 
 fringed with great quantities of the sweet cotton-wood, and 
 interrupted occasionally by “bluffs” of sandstone. The cur- 
 rent occasionally brings down fragments of granite and por- 
 phyry. 
 
 In the course of the day, they saw something moving on the 
 hank among the trees, which they mistook for game of some 
 kind; and, being in want of provisions, pulled toward shore. 
 They discovered, just in time, a party of Blackfeet, lurking in 
 the thickets, and sheered, with aU speed, to the opposite side 
 of the river. 
 
 After a time, they came in sight of a gang of elk. Wyeth 
 was immediately for pursuing them, rifle in hand, but saw 
 evident signs of dissatisfaction in his half-breed hunters : who 
 considered him as trenching upon their province, and med- 
 dling with things quite above his capacity ; for these veterans 
 of the wilderness are exceedingly pragmatical, on points of 
 venery and woodcraft, and tenacious of their superiority; 
 looking down with infinite contemiDt upon all raw beginners. 
 The two worthies, therefore, sallied forth themselves, but 
 after a time returned empty-handed. They laid the blame, 
 however, entirely on their guns; two miserable old pieces 
 with flint locks, which, with all their picking and hammering, 
 were continually apt to miss Are. These great boasters of the 
 wilderness, however, are very often exceeding bad shots, and 
 fortunate it is for them when they have old flint guns to bear 
 the blame. 
 
 The next day they passed where a great herd of buffalo 
 were bellowing on a prairie. Again the Castor and Pollux of 
 the wilderness sallied forth, and again their flint guns were at 
 fault, and missed Are, and nothing went off but the buffalo. 
 Wyeth now found there was danger of losing his dinner if he 
 depended upon his hunters; he took rifle in hand, therefore, 
 and went forth himself. In the course of an hour he returned 
 laden with buffalo meat, to the great mortification of the two 
 regular hunters, who were annoyed at being eclipsed by a 
 greenhorn. 
 
 All hands now set to work to prepare the midday repast. 
 A fire was made under an immense cotton-wood tree, that 
 overshadowed a beautiful piece of meadow laud ; rich morsete 
 
252 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 of buffalo hump were soon roasting before it ; in a hearty and 
 prolonged repast, the two unsuccessful hunters -gradually 
 recovered from their mortification ; threatened to discard their 
 old flint guns as soon as they should reach the settlements, 
 and boasted more than ever of the wonderful shots they had 
 made, when they had guns that never missed fire. 
 
 Having hauled up their boat to dry in the sun, previous to 
 making their repast, the voyagers now set it once more afloat, 
 and proceeded on their way. They had constructed a sail out of 
 their old tent, which they hoisted whenever the wind was favor - 
 able, and thus skimmed along down the stream. Their voy- 
 age was pleasant, notwithstanding the perils by sea and land, 
 with which they were environed. Whenever they could they 
 encamped on islands for the greater security. If on the main- 
 land, and in a dangerous neighborhood, they would shift their 
 camp after dark, leaving their fire burning, dropping down the 
 river to some distance, and making no fire at their second en- 
 campment. Sometimes they would float all night with the 
 current ; one keeping watch and steering while the rest slept : 
 in such case, they would haul their boat on shore, at noon of 
 the following day to dry; for notwithstanding every precau- 
 tion, she was gradually getting water-soaked and rotten. 
 
 There was something pleasingly solemn and mysterious in 
 thus floating down these wild rivers at night. The purity of 
 the atmosphere in these elevated regions gave additional splen- 
 dor to the stars, and heightened the magnificence of the fir- 
 mament. The occasional rush and laving of the waters ; the 
 vague sounds from the surrounding wilderness; the dreary 
 howl, or rather whine of wolves from the plains; the low 
 grunting and bellowing of the buffalo, and the shrill neighing 
 of the elk, struck the ear with an effect unknown in the day- 
 time. 
 
 The two knowing hunters had scarcely recovered from one 
 mortification when they were fated to experience another. As 
 the boat was gliding swiftly round a low promontory, thinly 
 covered with trees, one of them gave the alarm of Indians. 
 The boat was instantly shoved from shore and every one 
 caught up his rifle. Where are they?” cried Wyeth. 
 
 “ There —there ! riding on horseback!” cried one of the 
 hunters. 
 
 “Yes; with white scarfs on!” cried the other. 
 
 Wyeth looked in the direction they pointed, but descried 
 nothing but two bald eagles, perched on a low dry branch 
 
ADVKJSTURliJS OF CAPTAIN BONNKVILLE. 25:3 
 
 beyond the thickets, and seeming, from the rapid motion of 
 the boat, to be moving swiftly in an opposite direction. The 
 detection of this blunder in the two veterans, who prided 
 themselves on the sureness and quickness of their sight, pro- 
 duced a hearty laugh at their expense, and put an end to their 
 vauntings. 
 
 The Yellowstone, above the confluence of the Bighorn, is a 
 clear stream ; its waters were now gradually growing turbid, 
 and assuming the yellow clay color of the Missouri. The cur- 
 rent was about four miles an hour, with occasional rapids; 
 some of them dangerous, but the voyagers passed them all 
 without accident. The banks of the river were in many places 
 precipitous with strata of bituminous coal. 
 
 They now entered a region abounding with buffalo — that 
 ever- journeying animal, which moves in countless droves from 
 point to point of the vast wilderness ; traversing plains, pour- 
 ing through the intricate defiles of mountains, swimming 
 rivers, ever on the mfove, guided on its boundless migrations 
 by some traditionary knowledge, like the finny tribes of the 
 ocean, which, at certain seasons. And their mysterious paths 
 across the deep and revisit the remotest shores. 
 
 These great migratory herds of buffalo have their hereditary 
 paths and highways, worn deep through the country, and 
 making for the surest passes of the mountains, and the most 
 practicable fords of the rivers. When once a great column 
 is in full career, it goes straight forward, regardless of all 
 obstacles ; those in front being impelled by the moving mass 
 behind. At such times they will break through a camp, 
 trampling down everything in their course. 
 
 It was the lot of the voyagers, one night, to encamp at one 
 of these buffalo landing places, and exactly on the trail. They 
 had not been long asleep, when they were awakened by a great 
 bellowing, and tramping, and the rush, and splash, and snort- 
 ing of animals in the river. They had just time to ascertain 
 that a buffalo army was entering the river on the opposite side, 
 and making toward the landing place. With all haste they 
 moved their boat and shifted their camp, by which time the 
 head of the column had reached the shore, and came pressing 
 up the bank. 
 
 It was a singular spectacle, by the uncertain moonlight, to 
 behold this countless throng making their way across the river, 
 blowing, and bellowing, and splashing. Sometimes they pass 
 in such dense and continuous column as to form a temporary 
 
654 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 dam across the river, the waters of which rise and rush over 
 their hacks, or between their squadrons. The roaring and rush 
 ing sound of one of these vast herds crossing a river, may 
 sometimes in a still night be heard for miles. 
 
 The voyagers now had game in profusion. They could kill 
 as many buffalo as they pleased, and, occasionally, were wan- 
 ton in their havoc; especially among scattered herds, that 
 came swimming near the boat. On one occasion, an old buffalo 
 bull approached so near that the half-breeds must fain try to 
 noose him as they would a wild horse. The noose was success- 
 fully thrown around his head, and secured him by the horns, 
 and they now promised themselves ample sport. The buffalo 
 made a prodigious turmoil in the water, bellowing, and blow- 
 ing, and floundering; and they all floated down the stream to- 
 gether. At length he found foothold on a sandbar, and taking 
 to his heels, whirled the boat after him like a whale when har- 
 pooned ; so that the hunters were obliged to cast off their rope, 
 with which strange head-gear the venerable bull made off to 
 the prairies. 
 
 On the 24th of August, the bull boat emerged, with its 
 adventurous crew, into the broad bosom of the mighty Mis- 
 souri. Here, about six miles above the mouth of the Yellow- 
 stone, the voyagers landed at Fort Union, the distributing post 
 of the American Fur Company in the western country. It was 
 a stockaded fortress, about two hundred and twenty feet 
 square, pleasantly situated on a high bank. Here they were 
 hospitably entertained by Mr. M’Kenzie, the superintendent, 
 and remained with him three days, enjoying the unusual 
 luxuries of bread, butter, milk, and cheese, for the fort was 
 well supplied with domestic cattle, though it had no garden. 
 The atmosphere of these elevated regions is said to be too 
 dry for the culture of vegetables; yet the voyagers, in coming 
 down the Yellowstone, had met with plums, grapes, cherries, 
 and currants, and had observed ash and elm trees. Where 
 these grow the climate cannot be incompatible with garden- 
 ing. 
 
 At Fort Union, Wyeth met with a melancholy memento of 
 one of his nien. This was a powder-flask, which a clerk had 
 purchased from a Blackfoot warrior. It bore the initials of 
 poor More, the unfortunate youth murdered the year pre^ 
 viously, at Jackson’s Hole, by the Blackfeet, and whose bones 
 had been subsequently found by Captain Bonneville. This 
 flask had either been passed from hand to hand of the tribe, 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 255 
 
 or, perhaps, had been brought to the fort by the very savage 
 who slew him. 
 
 As the bull boat was now nearly worn out, and altogether 
 unfit for the broader and more turbulent stream of the Mis- 
 souri, it was given up, and a canoe of cotton-wood, about 
 tvfenty feet long, fabricated by the Blackfeet, was purchased 
 to supply its place. In this Wyeth hoisted his sail, and bid- 
 ding adieu to the hospitable superintendent of Fort Union, 
 burned his prow to the east, and set off down the Missouri. 
 
 He had not proceeded many hours, before, in the evening, he 
 came to a large keel boat at anchor. It proved to be the boat 
 of Captain William Sublette, freighted with munitions for car- 
 rying on a powerful opposition to the American Fur Company. 
 The voyagers went on board, where they were treated with 
 the hearty hospitality of the wilderness, and passed a social 
 evening, talking over past scenes and adventures, and espec- 
 ially the memorable fight at Pierre’s Hole. 
 
 Here Milton Sublette determined to give up further voyag- 
 ing in the canoe, and remain with his brother ; accordingly, in 
 the morning, the fellow-voyagers took kind leave of each other, 
 and Wyeth continued on his course. There was now no one 
 on board of his boat that had ever voyaged on the Missouri ; it 
 was, however, all plain sailing down the stream, without any 
 chance of missing the way. 
 
 AU day the voyagers pulled gently along, and landed in the 
 evening and supped; then re-embarking, they suffered the 
 canoe to float down with the current ; taking turns to watch 
 and sleep. The night was calm and serene ; the elk kept up a * 
 continual whinnying or squealing, being the commencement of 
 the season when they are in heat. In the midst of the night 
 the canoe struck on a sand-bar, and all hands were roused by 
 the rush and roar of the wild waters, which broke around her. 
 They were all obliged to jump overboard, and work hard to 
 get her off, which was accomplished with much difiiculty. 
 
 In the course of the following day they saw three grizzly 
 bears at different times along the bank. The last one was on 
 a point of land, and was evidently making for the river, to 
 swim across. The two half-breed hunters were now eager to 
 repeat the manoeuvre of the noose ; promising to entrap Bruin, 
 and have rare sport in strangling and drowning him. Their 
 only fear was, that he might take fright and return to land 
 before they could get between him and the shore. Holding 
 back, therefore, until he was fairly committed in the centre of 
 
256 ADVENTURES OF OaPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 the etream, they then pulled forward with might and main, so 
 as to cut off his retreat, and take him in the rear. One of the 
 worthies stationed himself in the bow, with the cord and slip- 
 noose, the other, with the Nez Perce, 'managed the paddles. 
 There was nothing further from the thoughts of honest Bruin, 
 however, than to beat a retreat. Just as the canoe was draw- 
 ing near, he turned suddenly round and made for it, with a 
 horrible snarl and a tremendous show of teeth. The affrighted 
 hunter called to his comrades to paddle off. Scarce had they 
 turned the boat when the bear laid his enormous claws on the 
 gunwale, and attempted to get on board. The canoe was nearly 
 overturned, and a deluge of water came pouring over the gun- 
 wale. All was clamor, terror, and confusion. Every one 
 bawled out — the bear roared and snarled — one caught up a 
 gun ; but water had rendered it useless. Others handled their 
 paddles more effectually, and beating old Bruin about the head 
 and claws, obliged him to relinquish his hold. They now plied 
 their paddles with might and main, the bear made the best of 
 his way to shore, and so ended the second exploit of the noose ; 
 the hunters determining to have no more naval contests with 
 grizzly bears. 
 
 The voyagers were now out of the range of Crows and Black- 
 feet ; but they were approaching the country of the Rees, or 
 Arickaras ; a tribe no less dangerous ; and who were, generally, 
 hostile to small parties. 
 
 In passing through their country, Wyeth laid by all day, 
 and drifted quietly down the river at night. In this way he 
 passed on, until he supposed himself safely through the region 
 of danger ; when he resumed his voyaging in the open day. 
 On the 3d of September he had landed, at midday, to dine; 
 and while some were making a fire, one of the hunters 
 mounted a high bank to look out for game. He had scarce 
 glanced his eye round, when he perceived horses grazing on 
 the opposite side of the river. Crouching down he slunk back 
 to the camp, and reported what he had seen. On further 
 reconnoitring, the voyagers counted twenty-one lodges; and, 
 from the number of horses, computed that there must be 
 nearly a hundred Indians encamped there. They now drew 
 their boat, with all speed and caution, into a thicket of water 
 willows, and remained closely concealed all day. As soon as 
 the night closed in they re-embarked. The moon would rise 
 early ; so that they had but about two hours of darkness to get 
 past the camp. The night, however, was cloudy, with a blus 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 257 
 
 tering wind. Silently, and with muffled oars, they glided down 
 the river, keeping close under the shore opposite to the camp ; 
 watching its various lodges and fires, and the dark forms pass- 
 ing to and fro between them. Suddenly, on turning a point of 
 land, they found themselves close upon a camp on their own 
 side of the river. It appeared that not more than one half of 
 the band had crossed. They were within a few yards of the 
 shore; they saw distinctly the savages— some standing, some 
 lying round the fire. Horses were grazing around. Some 
 lodges were set up, others had been sent across the river. The 
 red glare of the fires upon these wild groups and harsh faces, 
 contrasted with the surrounding darkness, had a startling 
 effect, as the voyagers suddenly came upon the scene. The 
 dogs of the camp perceived them, and harked ; hut the Indians, 
 fortunately, took no heed of their clamor. Wyeth instantly 
 sheered his boat out into the stream ; when, unluckily it struck 
 upon a sand-bar, and stuck fast. It was a perilous and trying 
 situation ; for he was fixed between the two camps, and within 
 rifle range of both. All hands jumped out into the water, and 
 tried to get the boat off ; but as no one dared to give the word, 
 they could not pull together, and their labor was in vain. In 
 this way they labored for a long time; until Wyeth thought of 
 giving a signal for a general heave, by lifting his hat. The ex- 
 pedient succeeded. They launched their canoe again into deep 
 water, and getting in, had the delight of seeing the camp fires 
 of the savages soon fading in the distance. 
 
 They continued under way the greater part of the night, until 
 far beyond all danger from this band, when they puUed to 
 shore, and encamped. 
 
 The following day was windy, and they came near upsetting 
 their boat in carrying sail. Toward evening, the wind subsid- 
 ed and a beautiful calm night succeeded. They floated along 
 with the current throughout the night, taking turns to watch 
 and steer. The deep stillness of the night was occasionally 
 interrupted by the neighing of the elk, the hoarse lowing of 
 the buffalo, the hooting of large owls, and the screeching of 
 the small ones, now and then the splash of a beaver, or the 
 gong-like sound of the swan. 
 
 Part of their voyage was extremely tempestuous ; with high 
 winds, tremendous thunder, and soaking rain ; and they were 
 repeatedly in extreme danger from drift-wood and sunken 
 trees. On one occasion, having continued to float at night, 
 after the moon was down, they ran under a great snag, or 
 
258 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 sunken tree, with dry branches above the water. These caught 
 the mast, while the boat swung round, broadside to the stream, 
 and began to fill with water. Nothing saved her* from total 
 wreck, but cutting away the mast. She then drove down the 
 stream, but left one of the unlucky lialf -breeds chnging to the 
 snag, like a monkey to a pole. It was necessary to run in 
 shore, toil up, laboriously, along the eddies and to attain som§ 
 distance above the snag, when they launched forth again into 
 the stream, and floated down with it to his rescue. 
 
 We forbear to detail aU the circumstances and adventures of 
 upward of a month’s voyage, down the windings and doublings 
 of this vast river ; in the course of which they stopped occa- 
 sionally at a post of one of the rival *fur companies, or at a 
 government agency for an Indian tribe. Neither shall we 
 dwell upon the changes of climate and productions, as the 
 voyagers swept down from north to south, across several de- 
 grees of latitude; arriving at the regions of oaks and syca- 
 mores ; of mulberry and basswood trees ; of paroquets and wild 
 turkeys. This is one of the characteristics of the middle and 
 lower part of the Missouri ; but still more so of the Mississippi, 
 whose rapid current traverses a succession of latitudes so as in 
 a few days to float the voyager almost from the frozen regions 
 to the tropics. 
 
 The voyage of Wyeth shows the regular and unobstructed 
 flow of the rivers, on the east side of the Rocky Mountains, in 
 contrast to those of the western side ; where rocks and rapids 
 continually menace and obstruct the voyager. We find him 
 in a frail bark of skins, launching himself in a stream at the 
 foot of the Rocky Mountains, and floating down from river to 
 river, as they empty themselves into each other; and so he 
 might have kept on upward of two thousand miles, until his 
 little bark should drift into the ocean. At present we shall 
 stop with him at Cantonment Leavenworth, the frontier post 
 of the United States ; where he arrived on the 27th of Septem* 
 her. 
 
 Here his first care was to have his Nez Perce Indian, and his 
 half-breed boy, Baptiste, vaccinated. As they approached the 
 fort, they were hailed by the sentinel. The sight of a soldier 
 in full array, with what appeared to be a long knife glittering 
 on the end of a musket, struck Baptiste with such affright that 
 he took to his heels, bawhng for mercy at the top of his voice. 
 The Nez Perce would have followed him, had not Wyeth as- 
 sured him of his safety. When they underwent the operation 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 259 
 
 of the lancet, the doctor’s wife and another lady were present ; 
 both beautiful women. They were the first white women that 
 they had seen, and they could not keep their eyes off of them. 
 On returning to the boat, they recounted to their companions 
 all that they had observed at the fort ; but were especially elo- 
 quent about the white squaws, who, they said, were white as 
 snow, and more beautiful than any human being they had ever 
 beheld. 
 
 We shall not accompany the captain any further in his voy- 
 age ; but will simply state that he made his way to Boston, 
 where he succeeded in organizing an association under the 
 name of “ The Columbia River Fishing and Trading Company,” 
 for his original objects of a salmon fishery and a trade in furs. 
 A brig, the May Dacres, had been dispatched for the Columbia 
 with supplies ; and he was now on his way to the same point, 
 at the head of sixty men, whom he had enlisted at St. Louis ; 
 some of whom were experienced hunters, and all more habitu- 
 ated to the life of the wilderness than his first band of “ down- 
 easters.” 
 
 We will now return to Captain Bonneville and his party, 
 whom we left, making up their packs and saddling their horses, 
 in Bear River valley. 
 
 CHAPTER XLH. 
 
 DEPARTURE OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE FOR THE COLUMBIA— AD- 
 VANCE OF WYETH— EFFORTS TO KEEP THE LEAD— HUDSON’S 
 BAY PARTY— A JUNKETING — A DELECTABLE BEVERAGE— HONEY 
 AND - ALCOHOL— HIGH CAROUSING — THE CANADIAN “BON VI- 
 VANT” — A CACHE— A RAPID MOVE— WYETH AND HIS PLANS— 
 HIS TRAVELLING COMPANIONS— BUFFALO HUNTING— MORE CON- 
 VIVIALITY— AN INTERRUPTION. 
 
 It was the 3d of July that Captain Bonneville set out on his 
 second visit to the banks of the Columbia, at the head of 
 twenty-three men. He travelled leisurely, to keep his horses 
 fresh, until on the 10th of July a scout brought word that 
 Wyeth, with his band, was but fifty miles in the rear, and 
 pushing forward with all speed. This caused some bustle in 
 the camp ; for it was important to get first to the buffalo ground 
 
260 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 to secure provisions for the journey. As the horses were too 
 heavily laden to travel fast, a cache was digged, as promptly 
 as possible, to receive all superfluous baggage. Just as it v/as 
 flnished, a spring burst out of the earth at the bottom. Another 
 cache was therefore digged, about two miles further on; when, 
 as they were about to bury the effects, a line of horsemen with 
 pack-horses, were seen streaking over the plain, and encamped 
 close by. 
 
 It proved to be a small band in the service of the Hudson’s 
 Bay Company, under the command of a veteran Canadian; 
 one of those petty leaders, who, with a small party of men, and 
 a small supply of goods, are employed to follow up a band of 
 Indians from one hunting ground to another, and buy up their 
 peltries. 
 
 Having received numerous civilities from the Hudson’s Bay 
 Company, the captain sent an invitation to the officers of the 
 party to an evening regale; and set to work to make jovial 
 preparations. As the night air in these elevated regions is apt 
 to be cold, a blazing fire was soon made, that would have done 
 credit to a Christmas dinner, instead of a midsummer banquet. ' 
 The parties met in high good-fellowship. There was abundance 
 of such hunters’ fare as the neighborhood furnished ; and it was 
 all discussed with mountain appetites. They talked over all 
 the events of their late campaigns ; but the Canadian veteran 
 had been unlucky in some of his transactions ; and his brow 
 began to grow cloudy. Captain Bonneville remarked his rising 
 spleen, and regretted that he had no juice of the grape to keep 
 it down. 
 
 A man’s wit, however, is quick and inventive in the wilder- 
 ness; a thought suggested itself to the captain, how he might 
 brew a delectable beverage. Among his stores was a keg of 
 honey but half exhausted. This he filled up with alcohol, and 
 stirred the fiery and mellifluous ingredients together. The 
 glorious results may readily be imagined ; a happy compound 
 of strength and sweetness, enough to soothe the most ruffied 
 temper and unsettle the most solid understanding. 
 
 The beverage worked to a charm ; the can circulated merrily ; 
 the first deep draught washed out every care from the mind of 
 the veteran; the second elevated his spirit to the clouds. He 
 was, in fact, a boon companion ; as all veteran Canadian traders 
 are apt to be. He now became glorious ; talked over all his ex^ 
 ploits, his huntings, his fightings with Indian braves, his loves 
 with Indian beauties ; sang snatches of old French ditties, and 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 261 
 
 Canadian boat songs ; drank deeper and deeper, sang louder 
 and louder ; until, having reached a climax of drunken gayety, 
 he gradually declined, and at length fell fast asleep upon the 
 ground. After a long nap he again raised his head, imbibed 
 another potation of the ‘‘sweet and strong,” flashed up with 
 another shght blaze of French gayety, and again fell asleep. 
 
 The morning found him still upon the field of action, but in 
 sad and sorrowful condition; suffering the penalties of past 
 pleasures, and calling to mind the captain’s dulcet compound, 
 with many a retch and spasm. It seemed as if the honey and 
 alcohol, which had passed so glibly and smoothly over his 
 tongue, were at war within his stomach ; and that he had a 
 swarm of bees within his head. In short, so helpless and woe- 
 begone was his plight, that his party proceeded on their march 
 without him ; the captain promising to bring him on in safety 
 in the after part of the day. 
 
 As soon as this party had moved off. Captain Bonneville’s 
 men proceeded to construct and fill their cache ; and just as it 
 was completed the party of Wyeth was descried at a distance. 
 In a moment all was activity to take the road. The horses 
 were prepared and mounted ; and being lightened of a great 
 part of their burdens, were able to move with celerity. As to 
 the worthy convive of the preceding evening, he was carefully 
 gathered up from the hunter’s couch on which he lay, re- 
 pentant and supine, and, being packed upon one of the horses, 
 was hurried forward with the convoy, groaning and ejaculat- 
 ing at every jolt. 
 
 In the course of the day, Wyeth, being lightly mounted, 
 rode ahead of his party, and overtook Captain Bonneville. 
 Their meeting was friendly and courteous ; and they discussed, 
 sociably, their respective fortunes since they separated on the 
 banks of the Bighorn. Wyeth announced his intention of 
 establishing a small trading post at the mouth of the Port- 
 neuf, and leaving a few men there, with a quantity of goods, 
 to trade with the neighboring Indians. He was compelled, in 
 fact, to this measure, in consequence of the refusal of the 
 Rocky Mountain Fur Company to take a supply of goods 
 which he had brought out for them according to contract ; and 
 which he had no other mode of disposing of. He further in- 
 formed Captain Bonneville that the competition between the 
 Rocky Mountain and American Fur Companies which had 
 led to such nefarious stratagems and deadly feuds, was at an 
 end ; they having divided the country between them, allotting 
 
262 ADVENTUUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 boundaries within which each was to trade and hunt, so as 
 not to interfere with the other. 
 
 In company with Wyeth were travelling two men of science ; 
 Mr. Nuttall, the botanist; the same who ascended the Mis- 
 souri at the time of the expedition to Astoria; and Mr. Town- 
 shend, an ornithologist; from these gentlemen we may look 
 forward to important information concerning these interest 
 ing regions. There were three religious missionaries, also, 
 bound to the shores of the Columbia, to spread the light of 
 the Gospel in that far wilderness. 
 
 After riding for some time together, in friendly conversa- 
 tion, Wyeth returned to his party, and Captain Bonneville 
 continued to press forward, and to gain ground. At night he 
 sent off the sadly sober and morahzing chief of the Hudson’s 
 Bay Company, under a proper escort, to rejoin his people; 
 his route branching off in a . different direction. The latter 
 took a cordial leave of his host, hoping, on some future occa- 
 sion, to repay his hospitality in kind. 
 
 In the morning the captain was early on the march ; throw- 
 ing scouts out far ahead, to scour hiU and dale, in search of 
 buffalo. He had confidently expected to find game, in abun- 
 dance, on the head- waters of the Portneuf ; but on reaching 
 that region, not a track was to be seen. 
 
 At length, one of the scouts, who had made a wide sweep 
 away to the head-waters of the Blackfoot Kiver, discovered 
 great herds quietly grazing in the adjacent meadows. He set 
 out on his return, to report his discoveries ; but night over- 
 taking him, he was kindly and hospitably entertained at the 
 camp of Wyeth. As soon as day dawned he hastened to his 
 own camp with the welcome intelligence ; and about ten o’clock 
 of the same morning, Captain Bonneville’s party were in the 
 midst of the game. 
 
 The packs were scarcely off the backs of the mules, when 
 the runners, mounted on the fleetest horses, were fall tilt 
 after the buffalo. Others of the men were busied erecting 
 scaffolds, and other contrivances, for jerking or drying meat; 
 others were fighting great fires for the same purpose ; soon the 
 hunters began to make their appearance, bringing in the 
 choicest morsels of buffalo meat ; these were placed upon the 
 scaffolds, and the whole camp presented a scene of singular 
 hurry and activity. At daylight the next morning, the run- 
 ners again took the field, with similar success; and, after an in- 
 terval of repose made their third and last chase, about twelve 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 2G3 
 
 o’clock; for by this time, Wyeth’s party was in sight. The 
 game being now driven into a valley, at some distance, Wyeth 
 was obliged to fix his camp there ; but he came in the evening 
 to pay Captain Bonneville a visit. He was accompanied by 
 Captain Stewart, the amateur traveller ; who had not yet sated 
 his appetite for the adventurous life of the wilderness. With 
 him, also, was a Mr. M’Kay, a half-breed ; son of the unfor- 
 tunate adventurer of the same name who came out in the first 
 maritime expedition to Astoria and was blown up in the Ton- 
 quin. His son had grown up in the employ of the British fur 
 companies ; and was a prime hunter, and a daring partisan. 
 He held, moreover, a farm in the valley of the Wallamut. 
 
 The three visitors, when they reached Captain Bonneville’s 
 camp, were surprised to find no one in it but himself and three 
 men ; his party being dispersed in all directions, to make the 
 most of their present chance for hunting. They remonstrated 
 with him on the imprudence of remaining with so trifling a 
 guard in a region so full of danger. Captain Bonneville vindi- 
 cated the pohcy of his conduct. He never hesitated to send 
 out all his hunters, when any important object was to be at- 
 tained ; and experience had taught him that he was most secure 
 when his forces were thus distributed over the surrounding 
 country. He then v/as sure that no enemy could approach, 
 from any direction, without being discovered by his hunters ; 
 who have a quick eye for detecting the slightest signs of the 
 proximity of Indians ; and who would instantly convey intelli- 
 gence to the camp. 
 
 The captain now set to work with his men, to prepare a suit- 
 able entertainment for his guests. It was a time of plenty in 
 the camp; of prime hunters’ dainties; of buffalo humps, and 
 buffalo tongues ; and roasted ribs, and broiled marrow-bones : 
 all these were cooked in hunters’ style ; served up with a pro- 
 fusion known only on a plentiful hunting ground, and discussed 
 with an appetite that would astonish the puny gourmands of 
 the cities. But above all, and to give a bacchanalian grace to 
 this truly masculine repast, the captain produced his mellifluous 
 keg of home-brewed nectar, which had been so potent over the 
 senses of the veteran of Hudson’s Bay. Potations, pottle deep, 
 again went round ; never did beverage excite greater glee,, or 
 meet with more rapturous commendation. The parties were 
 fast advancing to that happy state which would have insured 
 ample cause for the next day’s repentance ; and the bees were 
 already beginning to buzz about their ears, when a messenger 
 
264 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 came spurring to the camp with intelligence that Wyeth’s peo- 
 ple had got entangled in one of those deep and frightful ravines, 
 piled with immense fragments of volcanic rock, which gash the 
 whole country about the head-waters of the Blackfoot Eiver. 
 The revel was instantly at an end ; the keg of sweet and potent 
 home-brewed was deserted ; and the guests departed with all 
 speed to aid in extricating their companions from the volcanic 
 ravine. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIIL 
 
 A RAPID MARCH— A CLOUD OP DUST — WILD HORSEMEN — “HIGH 
 jinks”— HORSE-RACING AND RIFLE-SHOOTING— THE GAME OF 
 HAND— THE FISHING SEASON— MODE OF FISHING— TABLE LANDS 
 —SALMON FISHERS— THE CAPTAIN’S VISIT TO AN INDIAN LODGE 
 —THE INDIAN GIRL— THE POCKET MIRROR— SUPPER— TROUBLES 
 OP AN EVIL CONSCIENCE. 
 
 “ Up and away!” is the first thought at daylight of the In- 
 dian trader, when a rival is at hand and distance is to he gained. 
 Early in the morning, Captain Bonneville ordered the half 
 dried meat to be packed upon the horses, and leaving Wyeth 
 and his party to hunt the scattered buffalo, pushed oft rapidly 
 to the east, to regain the plain of the Portneuf. His march 
 was rugged and dangerous ; through volcanic hills, broken into 
 cliffs and precipices; and seamed with tremendous chasms, 
 where the rocks rose like walls. 
 
 On the second day, however, he encamped once more in the 
 plain, and as it was still early some of the men strolled out to 
 the neighboring hills. In casting their eyes round the country, 
 they perceived a great cloud of dust rising in the south, and 
 evidently approaching. Hastening back to tho camp, they 
 gave the alarm. Preparations were instantly made to receive 
 an enemy ; while some of the men, throwing themselves upon 
 the “ running horses” kept for hunting, galloped off to recon- 
 noitre. In a h'.ttle while, they made signals from a distance 
 that all was friendly. By this time the cloud of dust had swept 
 on as if hurried along by a blast, and a band of wild horsemen 
 came dashing at full leap into the camp, yelling and whooping 
 like so many maniacs. Their dresses, their accoutrements, 
 their mode of riding, and their uncouth clamor^ made them 
 
aVVEI^TURES of captain BONNEVILLE. 265 
 
 seem a party of savages arrayed for war; but they proved 
 to be principally half-breeds, and white men grown savage in 
 the wilderness, who were employed as trappers and hunters in 
 the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 
 
 Here was again “high jinks” in the camp. Captain Bonne- 
 ville’s men hailed these wild scamperers as congenial spirits, or 
 rather as the very game birds of their class. They entertained 
 them with the hospitality of mountaineers, feasting them at 
 every fire. At first, there were mutual details of adventures 
 and exploits, and broad joking mingled with peals of laughter. 
 Then came on boasting of the comparative merits of horses and 
 rifles, which soon engrossed every tongue. This naturally led 
 to racing, and shooting at a mark ; one trial of speed and skill 
 succeeded another, shouts and acclamations rose from the vic- 
 torious parties, fierce altercations succeeded, and a general me- 
 lee was about to take place, when suddenly the attention of the 
 quarrellers was arrested by a strange kind of Indian chant oi* 
 chorus, that seemed to operate upon them as a charm. Their 
 fury was at an end ; a tacit reconciliation succeeded, and the 
 ideas of the whole mongrel crowd — whites, half-breeds, and 
 squaws — were turned in a new direction. They all formed into 
 groups, and taking their places at the several fires, prepared 
 for one of the most exciting amusements of the Nez Perces and 
 the other tribes of the Far West. 
 
 The choral chant, in fact, which had thus acted as a charm, 
 was a kind of wild accompaniment to the favorite Indian game 
 of “Hand.” This is played by two parties drawn out in oppo- 
 site platoons before a blazing fire. It is in some respects like 
 the old game of passing the ring or the button, and detecting 
 the hand which holds it. In the present game, the object hid- 
 den, or the cache as it is called by the trappers, is a small splint 
 of wood, or other diminutive article, that may be concealed in 
 the closed hand. This is passed backward and forward among 
 the party “in hand,” while the party “out of hand” guess 
 where it is concealed. To heighten the excitement and confuse 
 the guessers, a number of dry poles are laid before each pla- 
 toon, upon which the members of the party “in hand ’’beat 
 furiously with short staves, keeping time to the choral chant 
 already mentioned, v/hich waxes fast and furious as the game 
 proceeds. As large bets are staked upon the game, the excite- 
 ment is prodigious. Each party in turn bursts out in full cho- 
 rus, beating, and yeUing, and working themselves up into such 
 a heat that the perspiration rolls down their naked shoulders, 
 
266 AJDVENTUllES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 even in the cold of a winter night. The bets are doubled and 
 trebled as the game advances, the mental excitement increases 
 almost to madness, and all the worldly effects of the gamblers 
 are often hazarded upon the position of a straw. 
 
 These gambling games were kept up throughout the night ; 
 every fire glared upon a group that looked like a crew of 
 maniacs at their frantic orgies, and the scene would have been 
 kept up throughout the succeeding day, had not Captain Bonne^ 
 ville interposed his authority, and, at the usual hour, issued 
 his marching orders. 
 
 Proceeding down the course of Snake Eiver, the hunters 
 regularly returned to camp in the evening laden with wild 
 geese, which were yet scarcely able to fiy, and were easily 
 caught in great numbers. It was now the season of the annual 
 fish-feast, with which the Indians in these parts celebrate the 
 first appearance of the salmon in this river. These fish are 
 taken in great numbers at the mnnerous falls of about four feet 
 pitch. The Indians fiank the shallow water just below, and 
 spear them as they attempt to pass. In wide parts of the river, 
 also, they place a sort of chevaux-de-frize, or fence, of poles in- 
 terwoven with withes, and forming an angle in the middle of 
 the current, where a small opening is left for the salmon to 
 pass. Around this opening the Indians station themselves on 
 small rafts, and ply their spears with great success. 
 
 The table lands so common in this region have a sandy soil, 
 inconsiderable in depth, and covered with sage, or more prop- 
 erly speaking, wormwood. Below this is a level stratum of 
 rock, riven occasionally by frightful chasms. The whole plain 
 rises as it approaches the river, and terminates with high and 
 broken cliffs, difficult to pass, and in many places so precipitous 
 that it is impossible, for days together, to get down to the 
 water’s edge, to give drink to the horses. This obliges the 
 traveller occasionally to abandon the vicinity of the river, and 
 make a wide sweep into the interior. 
 
 It was now far in the month of July, and the party suffered 
 extremely from sultry weather and dusty travelling. The flies 
 and gnats, too, were extremely troublesome to the horses; 
 especially when keeping along the edge of the river where it 
 runs between low sand-banks. Whenever the travellers en- 
 camped in the afternoon, the horses retired to the gravelly 
 shores and remained there, without attempting to feed until 
 the cool of the evening. As to the travellers, they plunged 
 into the clear and cool current, to vv\‘ish away the dust of the 
 
ADVENTURES OE CAPTATN BONNEVILLE. 267 
 
 road and refresh themselves after the heat of the day. The 
 nights were always cool and pleasant. 
 
 At one place where they encamped for some time, the river 
 was nearly five hundred yards wide, and studded with grassy 
 islands, adorned with groves of willow and cotton- wood. Here 
 the Indians were assembled in great numbers, and had barri- 
 caded the channels between the islands, to enable them to 
 spear the salmon with greater facility. They were a timid 
 race, and seemed unaccustomed to the sight of white men. 
 Entering one of the huts,' Captain Bonneville found the inhab- 
 itants just proceeding to cook a fine salmon. It is put into a 
 pot filled with cold water, and hung over the fire. The 
 moment the water begins to boil, the fish is considered cooked. 
 
 Taking his seat unceremoniously, and lighting his pipe, the 
 captain awaited the cooking of the fish, intending to invite 
 himseK to the repast. The owner of the hut seemed to take 
 his intrusion in good part. While conversing with him the 
 captain felt something move behind him, and turning round 
 and removing a few skins and old buffalo robes, discovered a 
 young girl, about fourteen years of age, crouched beneath, who 
 directed her large black eyes full in his face, and continued to 
 gaze in mute surprise and terror. The captain endeavored to 
 dispel her fears, and drawing a bright ribbon from his pocket, 
 attempted repeatedly to tie it round her neck. She jerked 
 back at each attempt, uttering a sound very much like a snarl ; 
 nor could all the blandishments of the captain, albeit a pleas- 
 ant, good-looking, and somewhat gallant man, succeed in con- 
 quering the shyness of the savage little beauty. His attentions 
 were now turned toward the parents, whom he presented with 
 an awl and a little tobacco, and having thus secured their 
 good-will, continued to smoke his pipe and watch the salmon. 
 While thus seated near the threshold, an urchin of the family 
 approached the door, but catching a sight of the strange guest, 
 ran off screaming with terror and ensconced himself behind 
 the long straw at the back of the hut. 
 
 Desirous to dispel entirely this timidity, and to open a trade 
 with the simple inhabitants of the hut, who, he did not doubt, 
 had furs somewhere concealed, the captain now drew forth 
 that grand lure in the eyes of a savage, a pocket mirror. The 
 sight of it was irresistible. After examining it for a long 
 time with wonder and admiration, they produced a musk-rat 
 skin, and offered it in exchange. The captain shook his head ; 
 but purchased the skin for a couple of buttons — superfiuous 
 
268 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 trinkets ! as the worthy lord of the hovel had neither coat nor 
 breeches on which to place them. 
 
 The mirror still continued the great object of desire, particu- 
 larly in the eyes of the old housewife, who produced a pot of 
 parched flour and a string of biscuit roots. These procured 
 her some trifle in return ; but could not command the purchase 
 of the mirror. The salmon being now completely cooked, they 
 all joined heartily in supper. A bounteous portion was depos- 
 ited before the captain by the old woman, upon some fresh 
 grass, which served instead of a platter; and never had he 
 tasted a salmon boiled so completely to his fancy. 
 
 Supper being over, the captain lighted his pipe and passed it 
 to his host, who, inhaling the smoke, puffed it through his 
 nostrils so assiduously, that in a little while his head mani- 
 fested signs of confusion and dizziness. Being satisfled, by 
 this time, of the kindly and companionable qualities of the 
 captain, he became easy and communicative; and at length 
 hinted sometliing about exchanging beaver skins for horses. 
 The captain at once offered to dispose of his steed, which stood 
 fastened at the door. The bargain was soon concluded, where- 
 upon the Indian, removing a pile of bushes under which his 
 valuables were concealed, drew forth the number of skins 
 agreed upon as the price. 
 
 Shortly afterward, some of the captain’s people coming up, 
 he ordered another horse to be saddled, and, mounting it, took 
 his departure from the hut, after distributing a few trifling 
 presents among its simple inhabitants. During all the time of 
 his visit, the little Indian girl had kept her large black eyes 
 flxed upon him, almost without winking, watching every 
 movement with awe and wonder; and as he rode off, remained 
 gazing after him, motionless as a statue. Her father, however, 
 dehghted with his new acquaintance, mounted his newly pur- 
 chased horse, and followed in the train of the captain, to whom 
 he continued to be a faithful and useful adherent during his 
 sojourn in the neighborhood. 
 
 The cowardly effects of an evil conscience were evidenced in 
 the conduct of one of the captain’s men, who had been in the 
 Californian expedition. During all their intercourse with the 
 harmless people of this place, he had manifested uneasiness 
 and anxiety. While his companions mingled freely and joy- 
 ously with the natives, he went about with a restless, sus- 
 picious look; scrutinizing every painted form and face and 
 starting often at the sudden approach of some meek and in^ 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 269 
 
 offensive savage, who regarded him with reverence as a supe- 
 rior being. Yet this was ordinarily a bold fellow, who never 
 flinched from danger, nor turned pale at the prospect of a bat- 
 tle. At length he requested permission of Captain Bonneville 
 to keep out of the way of these people entirely. Their strik- 
 ing resemblance, he said, to the people of Ogden’s River, made 
 him continually fear that some among them might have 
 seen him in that expedition; and might seek an oppor- 
 tunity of revenge. Ever after this, while they remained 
 in this neighborhood, he would skulk out of the way and 
 keep aloof when any of the native inhabitants approached. 
 ‘‘Such,” observes Captain Bonneville, “is the effect of self- 
 reproach, even upon the roving trapper in the wilderness, who 
 has little else to fear than the stings of his own guilty con- 
 science.” 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 OUTFIT OF A TRAPPER — RISKS TO WHICH HE IS SUBJECTED — 
 PARTNERSHIP OF TRAPPERS — ENMITY OF INDIANS — DISTANT 
 SMOKE— A COUNTRY ON FIRE— GUN CREEK — GRAND ROND— FINE 
 PASTURES— PERPLEXITIES IN A SMOKY COUNTRY — CONFLAGRA- 
 TION OF FORESTS. 
 
 It had been the intention of Captain Bonneville, in descend- 
 ing along Snake River, to scatter his trappers upon the smaller 
 streams. In this way a range of country is trapped by small 
 detachments from a main body. The outfit of a trapper is 
 generally a rifle, a pound of powder, and four pounds of lead, 
 with a bullet mould, seven traps, an axe, a hatchet, a knife 
 and awl, a camp kettle, two blankets, and, where supplies are 
 plenty, seven pounds of flour. He has, generally, two or three 
 horses, to carry himself and his baggage and peltries. Two 
 trappers commonly go together, for the purposes of mutual 
 assistance and support ; a larger party could not easily escape 
 the eyes of the Indians. It is a service of perils and even 
 more so at present than formerly, for the Indians, since they 
 have got into the habit of trafficking peltries with the traders, 
 have learned the value- of the beaver, and look upon the trap- 
 pers as poachers, who are filching the riches from their 
 streams, and interfering with their market. They make no 
 
270 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 hesitation, therefore, to murder the solitary trapper, and thus 
 destroy a competitor, while they possess themselves of his 
 spoils. It is with regret we add, too, that this hostility has in 
 many cases been instigated by traders, desirous of injuring 
 their rivals, but who have themselves often reaped the fruits 
 of the mischief they have sown. 
 
 When two trappers undertake any considerable stream, 
 their mode of proceeding is, to hide their horses in some lonely 
 glen, where they can graze unobserved. They then build a 
 small hut, dig out a canoe from a cotton- wood tree, and in this 
 poke along shore silently, in the evening, and set their traps. 
 These they revisit in the same silent way at daybreak. When 
 tliey take any beaver they bring it home, skin it, stretch the 
 skins on sticks to dry, and feast upon the flesh. The body, 
 hung up before the Are, turns by its own weight, and is roasted 
 in a superior style ; the tail is the trapper’s tidbit ; it is cut off, 
 put on the end of a stick, and toasted, and is considered even 
 a greater dainty than the tongue or the marrow-bone of a 
 buffalo. 
 
 With aU their silence and caution, however, the poor trap- 
 pers cannot always escape their hawk-eyed enemies. Their 
 trail has been discovered, perhaps, and followed up for many 
 a mile; or their smoke has been seen curhng up out of the 
 secret glen, or has been scented by the savages, whose sense of 
 smell is almost as acute as that of sight. Sometimes they are 
 pounced upon when in the act of setting their traps ; at other 
 times, they are roused from their sleep by the horrid war- 
 whoop ; or, perhaps, have a bullet or an arrow whisthng about 
 their ears, in the midst of one of their beaver banquets. In 
 this way they are picked off, from time to time, and nothing 
 is known of them, until, perchance, their bones are found 
 bleaching in some lonely ravine, or on the banks of some 
 nameless stream, which from that time is called after them. 
 Many of the small streams beyond the mountains thus perpet- 
 uate the names of unfortunate trappers that have been mur- 
 dered on their banks. 
 
 A knowledge of these dangers deterred Captain Bonneville, 
 in the present instance, from detaching small parties of trap- 
 pers as he had intended ; for his scouts brought him word that 
 formidable bands of the Banr 3ck Indians were lying on the 
 Boisee and Payette Pivers, at no great distance, so that they 
 would be apt to detect and cut off any stragglers. It behooved 
 him, also, to keep his party together, to guard against any 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 271 
 
 predatory attack upon the main body; he continued on his 
 way, therefore, without dividing his forces. And fortunate it 
 was that he did so ; for in a little while he encountered one of 
 the phenomena of the western wilds that would effectually 
 have prevented his scattered people from finding each other 
 again. In a word, it was the season of setting fire to the prai- 
 ries. As he advanced he began to perceive great clouds of 
 smoke at a distance, rising by degrees, and spreading over the 
 whole face of the country. The atmosphere became dry and 
 surcharged with murky vapor, parching to the skin, and irri- 
 tating to the eyes. When travelling among the hills, they 
 could scarcely discern objects at the distance of a few paces ; 
 indeed, the least exertion of the vision was painful. There 
 was evidently some vast conflagration in the direction toward 
 which they were proceeding; it was as yet at a great distance, 
 and during the day they could only see the smoke rising in 
 larger and denser volumes, and rolling forth in an immense 
 canopy. At night the skies were all glowing with the reflec- 
 tion of unseen fires, hanging in an immense body of lurid light 
 high above the horizon. 
 
 Having reached Gun Creek, an important stream coming 
 from the left. Captain Bonneville turned up its course, to 
 traverse the mountains and avoid the great bend of Snake 
 River. Being now out of the range of the Bannecks, he sent 
 out his people in all directions to hunt the antelope for present 
 supplies ; keeping the dried meats for places where game might 
 be scarce. 
 
 During four days that the party were ascending Gun Creek, 
 the smoke continued to increase so rapidly that it was impossi- 
 ble to distinguish the face of the country and ascertain land- 
 marks. Fortunately, the travellers fell upon an Indian trail, 
 which led them to the head- waters of the Fourche de Glace or 
 Ice River, sometimes called the Grand Rond. Here they 
 found all the plains and valleys wrapped in one vast confla- 
 gration ; which swept over the long grass in billows of flame, 
 shot up every bush and tree, rose in great columns from the 
 groves, and set up clouds of smoke that darkened the at- 
 mosphere. To avoid this sea of fire, the travellers had to 
 pursue their course close along the foot of the mountains ; but 
 the irritation from the smoke continued to be tormenting. 
 
 The country about the head-waters of the Grand Rond 
 spreads out into broad and level prairies, extremely fertile, and 
 watered by mountain springs ard rivulets. These prairies are 
 
272 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 resorted to by small bands of the Skynses, to pasture their 
 horses, as well as to banquet upon the salmon which abound in 
 the neighboring waters. They take these fish in great quanti- 
 ties and without the least difficulty ; simply taking them out of 
 the water with their hands, as they flounder and struggle in the 
 numerous long shoals of the principal streams. At the time 
 the travellers passed over these prairies, some of the narrow, 
 deep streams by which they were intersected were completely 
 choked with salmon, which they took in great numbers. The 
 wolves and bears frequent these streams at this season, to 
 avail themselves of these great fisheries. 
 
 The travellers continued, for many days, to experience great 
 difficulties and discomforts from this wide conflagration, which 
 seemed to embrace the whole wilderness. The sun was for a 
 great part of the time obscured by the smoke, and the loftiest 
 mountains were hidden from view. Blundering along in this 
 region of mist and uncertainty, they were frequently obliged 
 to make long circuits, to avoid obstacles which they could not 
 perceive until close upon them. The Indian trails were their 
 safest guides, for though they sometimes appeared to lead 
 them out of their direct course, they always conducted them 
 to the passes. 
 
 On the 26th of August, they reached the head of the Way- 
 lee-way River. Here, in a valley of the mountains through 
 which this head-water makes its way, they found a band of 
 the Skynses, who were extremely sociable, and appeared to be 
 well disposed, and as they spoke the Nez Perce language, an 
 mtercourse was easily kept up with them. 
 
 In the pastures on the bank of this stream, Captain Bonne- 
 ville encamped for a time, for the purpose of recruiting the 
 strength of his horses. Scouts were now sent out to explore 
 the surrounding country, and search for a convenient pass 
 through the mountains toward the Wallamut or Multnomah. 
 After an absence of twenty days they returned weary and dis- 
 couraged. They had been harassed and perplexed in rugged 
 mountain defiles, where their progress was continually im- 
 peded by rocks and precipices. Often they hq4 been obliged 
 to travel along the edges of frightful ravines, where a false 
 step would have been fatal. In one of these passes, a horse 
 fell from the brink of a precipice, and would have been dashed 
 to pieces had he not lodged among the branches of a tree, from 
 which he was extricated with great difficulty. These, ho\\- 
 ever, were not the worst of their difficulties and perils. The 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 273 
 
 great conflagration of the country, which had harassed the 
 main party in its march, was still more awful the further this 
 exploring party proceeded. The flames which swept rapidly 
 over the light vegetation of the prairies assumed a fierce?? 
 character and took a stronger hold amid the wooded glens and 
 ravines of the mountains. Some of the deep gorges and defiles 
 sent up sheets of flame, and clouds of lurid smoke, and sparks 
 and cinders that in the night made them resemble the craters 
 of volcanoes. The groves and forests, too, which crowned the 
 cliffs, shot up their towering columns of fire, and added to the 
 furnace glow of the mountains. With these stupendous sights 
 were combined the rushing blasts caused by the rarefied air, 
 which roared and howled through the narrow glens, and 
 whirled forth the smoke and flames in impetuous wreaths. 
 Ever and anon, too, was heard the crash of falling trees, some- 
 times tumbling from crags and precipices, with tremendous 
 sounds. 
 
 In the daytime, the mountains were wrapped in smoke so 
 dense and blinding, that the explorers, if by chance they sepa^ 
 rated, could only find each other by shouting. Often, too, 
 they had to grope their way through the yet burning forests, 
 in constant peril from the limbs and trunks of trees, which 
 frequently fell across their path. At length they gave up the 
 attempt to find a pass as hopeless, under actual circumstances, 
 and made their way back to the camp to report their failure. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 THE SKYNSES — THEIR TRAFFIC — HUNTING — POOD — HORSES-- A 
 HORSE-RACE — DEVOTIONAL FEELING OF THE SKYNSES, NEZ 
 PERCES AND FLATHEADS — PRAYERS — EXHORTATIONS — A 
 PREACHER ON HORSEBACK— EFFECT OF RELIGION ON THE MAN- 
 NERS OF THE TRIBES— A NEW LIGHT. 
 
 During the absence of this detachment, a sociable inter- 
 course had been kept up between the main party and the 
 Skynses, who had removed into the neighborhood of the camp. 
 These people dwell about the waters of the Way-lee-way and 
 the adjacent country, and trade regularly with the Hudson’s 
 Bay Company; generally giving horses in exchange for the 
 
274 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 articles of which they stand in need. They bring beaver 
 skins, also, to the trading posts ; not procured by trapping, 
 but by a course of internal traffic with the shy and ignorant. 
 Shoshokoes and Too-el-icans, who keep in distant and un^ 
 frequented parts of the country, and will not venture near the 
 trading houses. The Skynses hunt the dear and elk occasion- 
 ally; and depend, for a part of the year, on fishing. Their 
 main subsistence, however, is upon roots, especially the 
 kamash. This bulbous root is said to be of a delicious fiavor, 
 and highly nutritious. The women dig it up in great quanti- 
 ties, steam it, and deposit it in caches for winter provisions. 
 It grows spontaneously, and absolutely covers the plains. 
 
 This tribe were comfortably clad and equipped. They had a 
 few rifles among them, and were extremely desirous of bar- 
 tering for those of Captain Bonneville’s men ; offering a couple 
 of good running horses for a light rifle. Their first-rate horses, 
 however, were not to be procured from them on any terms. 
 They almost invariably use ponies ; but of a breed infinitely 
 superior to any in the United States. They are fond of trying 
 their speed and bottom, and of betting upon them. 
 
 As Captain Bonneville was desirous of judging of the com- 
 parative merit of their horses, he purchased one of their racers, 
 and had a trial of speed between that, an American, and a 
 Shoshonie, which were supposed to be well matched. The 
 race-course was for the distance of one mile and a half out and 
 back. For the first half mile the American took the lead by a 
 few hands; but, losing his wind, soon fell far behind; leaving 
 the Shoshonie and Skynse to contend together. For a mile 
 and a half they went head and head: but at the turn the 
 Skynse took the lead and won the race with great ease, scarce 
 drawing a quick breath when all was over. 
 
 The Skynses, like the Nez Perces and the Flatheads, have a 
 strong devotional feeling, which has been successfully culti- 
 vated by some of the resident personages of the Hudson’s Bay 
 Company. Sunday is invariably kept sacred among these 
 tribes. They will not raise their camp on that day, unless in 
 extreme cases of danger or hunger: neither will they hunt, nor 
 fish, nor trade, nor perform any kind of labor on that day. A 
 part of it is passed in prayer and religious ceremonies. Some 
 chief, who is generally at the same time what is called a 
 ‘‘medicine man,” assembles the community. After invoking 
 blessings from the Deity, he addresses the assemblage, exhort^ 
 ing them to good conduct ; to bo diligent in providing for their 
 
ABYENTUllES OF CAPTAIM BONNEVILLE, 275 
 
 families ; to abstain from lying and stealing ; to avoid quarrel 
 ling or cheating in their play, and to be just and hospitable to 
 all strangers who may be among them. Prayers and exhorta- 
 tions are also made, early in the morning, on week days. 
 Sometimes, all this is done by the chief from horseback ; mov- 
 ing slowly about the camp, with his hat on, and uttering his 
 exhortations with a loud voice. On all occasions, the by« 
 standers listen with profound attention; and at the end of 
 every sentence respond one word in unison, apparently equiv- 
 alent to an amen. While these prayers and exhortations are 
 going on, every employment in the camp is suspended. If an 
 Indian is riding by the place, he dismounts, holds his horse, 
 and attends with reverence until all is done. When the chief 
 has finished his prayer or exhortation, he says, I have done;” 
 upon which there is a general exclamation in unison. 
 
 With these religious services, probably derived from the 
 white men, the tribes above-mentioned mingle some of their 
 old Indian ceremonials, such as dancing to the cadence of a 
 song or baUad, which is generally done in a large lodge pro- 
 vided for the purpose. Besides Sundays, they likewise observe 
 the cardinal holidays of the Roman Catholic Church. 
 
 Whoever has introduced these simple forms of religion 
 among these poor savages, has evidently understood their 
 characters and capacities, and effected a great melioration of 
 their manners. Of this we speak not merely from the testi- 
 mony of Captain Bonneville, but likewise from that of Mr. 
 Wyeth, who passed some months in a travelling camp ot* the 
 Flatheads. “During the time I have been with them,” says he, 
 “I have never known an instance of theft among them: the 
 least thing, even to a bead or pin, is brought to you, if found ; 
 and often, things that have been thrown away. Neither 
 have I known any quarrelling, nor lying. This absence of all 
 quarrelling the more surprised me, when I came to see the 
 various occasions that would have given rise to it among the 
 whites: the crowding together of from twelve to eighteen 
 hundred horses, which have to be driven into camp at night, 
 to be picketed, to be packed in the morning; the gathering of 
 fuel in places where it is extremely scanty. All this, however, 
 is done without confusion or disturbance. 
 
 “They have a mild, playful, laughing disposition; and this 
 is portrayed in their countenances. They are polite, and un- 
 obtrusive. When one speaks, the rest pay strict attention: 
 when he is done, another assents by ^ yes,’ or dissents by 'no;’ 
 
276 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 and then states his reasons, which are listened to with equal 
 attention. Even the children are more peaceable than any 
 other children. I never heard an angry word among them, 
 nor any quarrelling ; although there were, at least, five hundred 
 of them together, and continually at play. With all this 
 quietness of spirit, they are brave when put to the test ; and 
 are an overmatch for an equal number of Blackfeet.” 
 
 The foregoing observations, though gathered from Mr. 
 Wyeth as relative to the Flatheads, apply, in the main, to the 
 Skynses also. Captain Bonneville, during his sojourn with 
 the latter, took constant occasion, in conversing with their 
 principal men, to encourage them in the cultivation of moral 
 and religious habits; drawing a comparison between their 
 peaceable and comfortable course of hfe and that of other 
 tribes, and attributing it to their superior sense of morality 
 and religion. He frequently attended their religious services, 
 with his people ; always enjoining on the latter the most rever- 
 ential deportment ; and he observed that the poor Indians were 
 always pleased to have the white men present. 
 
 The disposition of these tribes is evidently favorable to a 
 considerable degree of civilization. A few farmers settled 
 among them might lead them. Captain Bonneville thinks, to 
 till the earth and cultivate grain ; the country of the Skynses 
 and Nez Perces is admirably adapted for the raising of cattle. 
 A Christian missionary or two, and some trifling assistance 
 from government, to protect them from the predatory and 
 warlike tribes, might lay the foundation of a Christian people 
 in the midst of the great western wilderness, who would 
 wear the Americans near their hearts.” 
 
 We must not omit to observe, however, in qualification of 
 the sanctity of this Sabbath in the wilderness, that these tribes 
 who are all ardently addicted to gambling and horseracing, 
 make Sunday a peculiar day for recreations of the kind, not 
 deeming them in any wise out of season. After prayers and 
 pious ceremonials are over, there is scarce an hour in the day, 
 says Captain Bonneville, that you do not see several horses 
 racing at full speed; and in every corner of the camp are 
 groups of gamblers, ready to stake everything upon the all- 
 absorbing game of hand. The Indians, says Wyeth, appear to 
 enjoy their amusements with more zest than the whites. 
 They are great gamblers ; and in proportion to their means, 
 play bolder and bet higher than white men. 
 
 The cultivation of the religious feeling, above noted, among 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 277 
 
 the savages, has been at times a convenient policy with some 
 of the more knowing traders ; who have derived great credit 
 and influence among them by being considered “medicine 
 men that is, men gifted with mysterious knowledge. This 
 feeling is also at times played upon by rehgious charlatans, 
 who are to be found in savage as well as civilized life. One of 
 these was noted by Wyeth, during his sojourn among the 
 Flatheads. A new great man, says he, is rising in the camp, 
 who aims at power and sway. He covers his designs under 
 the ample cloak of religion; inciflcating some new doctrines 
 and ceremonials among those who are more simple than him- 
 self. He has already made proselytes of one fifth of the camp ; 
 beginning by working on the women, the children, and the 
 weak-minded. His followers are all dancing on the plain, to 
 their own vocal music. The more knowing ones of the tribe 
 look on and laugh ; thinking it all too foolish to do harm ; but 
 they will soon find that women, children, and fools, form a 
 large majority of every community, and they will have, event- 
 ually, to follow the new light, or be considered among the 
 profane. As soon as a preacher or pseudo prophet of the kind 
 gets followers enough, he either takes command of the tribe, or 
 branches off and sets up for an independent chief and “ medi- 
 cine man.” 
 
 CHAPTEE XLVI. 
 
 SCARCITY IN THE CAMP— REFUSAL OF SUPPLIES BY THE HUDSON’S 
 BAY COMPANY— CONDUCT OF THE INDIANS— A HUNGRY RETREAT 
 —JOHN day’s RIVER— THE BLUE MOUNTAINS— SALMON FISHING 
 ON SNAKE RIVER— MESSENGERS FROM THE CROW COUNTRY- 
 BEAR RIVER VALLEY— IMMENSE MIGRATION OF BUFFALO— DAN 
 GER OF BUFFALO HUNTING— A WOUNDED INDIAN— EUTAW IN- 
 DIANS— A “surround” of antelopes. 
 
 Provisions were now growing scanty in the camp, and Cap- 
 tain Bonneville found it necessary to seek a B*ew neighborhood. 
 Taking leave, therefore, of his friends, the Skynses, he set off 
 to the westward, and, crossing a low range of mountains, en- 
 camped on the head-waters of the Ottolais. Being now within 
 thirty miles of Fort Wallah- Wallah, the trading post of the Hud- 
 son’s Bay Company, he sent a small detachment of men thither 
 
278 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 to purchase corn for the subsistence of his party. The men were 
 well received at the fort ; but all supphes for their camp were 
 peremptorily refused. Tempting offers were made them, how- 
 ever, if they would leave their present employ, and enter into 
 the service of the company ; but they were not to be seduced. 
 
 When Captain Bonneville saw his messengers return empty- 
 handed, he ordered an instant move, for there was imminent 
 danger of famine. He pushed forward down the course of the 
 Ottolais, which runs diagonal to the Columbia, and falls into it 
 about fifty miles below the Wallah- Wallah. His route lay 
 through a beautiful undulating country, covered with horses 
 belonging to the Skynses, who sent them there for pasturage. 
 
 On reaching the Columbia, Captain Bonneville hoped to open 
 a trade with the natives, for fish and other provisions, but to 
 his surprise they kept aloof, and even hid themselves on his 
 approach. He soon discovered that they were under the influ- 
 ence of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who had forbidden them 
 to trade, or hold any communion with him. He proceeded 
 along the Columbia, but it was everywhere the same ; not an 
 article of provisions was to be obtained from the natives, and 
 he was at length obliged to kill a couple of his horses to sustain 
 his famishing people. He now came to a halt, and consulted 
 what was to be done. The broad and beautiful Columbia lay 
 before them, smooth and unrufiled as a mirror ; a little more 
 journeying would take them to its lower region; to the noble 
 valley of the Wallamut, their projected winter quarters. To 
 advance under present circumstances would be to court starva- 
 tion. The resources of the country were locked against them, 
 by the influence of a jealous and powerful monopoly. If they 
 reached the Wallamut, they could scarcely hope to obtain suf- 
 ficient supplies for the winter ; if they lingered any longer in 
 the country the snows would gather upon the mountains and 
 cut off their retreat. By hastening their return, they would be 
 able to reach the Blue Mountains just in time to find the elk, 
 the deer, and the bighorn ; and after they had supplied them- 
 selves with provisions, they might push through the mountains 
 before they were entirely blocked up by snow. Influenced by 
 these considerations. Captain Bonneville reluctantly turned his 
 back a second time on the Columbia, and set off for the Blue 
 Mountains. He took his course up John Day’s Eiver, so called 
 from one of the hunters in the original Astoiiah enterprise. 
 As famine was at his heels, he travelled fast, and reached the 
 mountains by the 1st of October. He entered by the opening 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 279 
 
 Hiadeby John Day’s Eiver ; it was a rugged and difficult defile, 
 but he and his men had become accustomed to hard scrambles oi 
 the kind. Fortunately, the September rains had extinguished 
 the fires which recently spread over these regions; and the 
 mountains, no longer wrapped in smoke, now revealed all their 
 grandeur and subhmity to the eye. 
 
 They were disappointed in their expectation of finding abun- 
 dant game in the mountains ; large bands of the natives had 
 passed through, returning from their fishing expeditions, and 
 had driven all the game before them. It was only now and then 
 that the hunters could bring in sufficient to keep the party 
 from starvation. 
 
 To add to their distress, they mistook their route, and wan- 
 dered for ten days among high and bald hills of clay. At 
 length, after much perplexity, they made their way to the 
 banks of Snake Eiver, following the course of which, they were 
 sure to reach their place of destination. 
 
 It was the 20th of October when they found themselves once 
 more upon this noted stream. The Shoshokoes, whom they 
 had met with in such scanty munbers on their journey down 
 the river, now absolutely thronged its banks to profit by the 
 abundance of salmon, and lay up a stock for winter provisions. 
 Scaffolds were everywhere erected, and immense quantities of 
 fish drying upon them. At this season of the year, however, 
 the salmon are extremely poor, and the travellers needed their 
 keen sauce of hunger to give them a relish. 
 
 In some places the shores were completely covered with a 
 stratum of dead salmon, exhausted in ascending the river, or 
 destroyed at the falls; the fetid odor of which tainted the 
 air. 
 
 It was not until the travellers reached the head- waters of the 
 Portneuf that they really found themselves in a region of 
 abundance. Here the buffalo were in immense herds ; and here 
 they remained for three days, slaying and cooking, and feast- 
 ing, and indemnifying themselves by an enormous carnivai, 
 for a long and hungry Lent. Their horses, too, found good 
 pasturage, and enjoyed a little rest after a severe spell of hard 
 travelling. 
 
 During this period, two horsemen arrived at the camp, who 
 proved to be messengers sent express for supplies from Mon- 
 tero’s party ; which had been sent to beat up the Crow country 
 and the Black Hills, and to winter on the Arkansas. They re- 
 ported that all was well with the party, but that they had not 
 
280 ADVENTURES QF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 been able to accomplish the whole of their mission, and were 
 still in the Crow country, where they should remain imtil 
 joined by Captain Bonneville in the spring. The captain re- 
 tainecl the messengers with him imtil the 17th of November, 
 wnen, having reached the caches on Bear River, and procured 
 thence the required supphes, he sent them back to their party; 
 appointing a rendezvous toward the last of June following, on 
 the forks of Wind River valley, in the Crow country. 
 
 He now remained several days encamped near the caches, 
 and having discovered a small band of Shoshonies in his neigh- 
 borhood, purchased from them lodges, furs, and other articles 
 of winter comfort, and arranged with them to encamp together 
 during the winter. 
 
 The place designed by the captain for the wintering ground 
 was on the upper part of Bear River, some distance off. He 
 delayed approaching it as long as possible, in order to avoid 
 driving off the buffalo, which would be needed for winter pro- 
 visions. He accordingly moved forward but slowly, merely as 
 the want of game and grass obliged him to shift his position. 
 The weather had already become extremely cold, and the snow 
 lay to a considerable depth. To enable the horses to carry as 
 much dried meat as possible, he caused a cache to be made, in 
 which all the baggage that could be spared was deposited. 
 This done, the party continued to move slowly toward their 
 winter quarters. 
 
 They were not doomed, however, to suffer from scarcity 
 during the present winter. The people upon Snake River 
 having chased off the buffalo before the snow had become 
 deep, immense herds now came trooping over the mountains ; 
 forming dark masses on their sides, from which their deep- 
 mouthed bellowing sounded like the low peals and mutterings 
 from a gathering thunder-cloud. In effect, the cloud broke, 
 and down came the torrent thundering into the valley. It is 
 utterly impossible, according to Captain Bonneville, to convey 
 an idea of the effect produced by the sight of such countless 
 throngs of animals of such bulk and spirit, all rushing forward 
 as if swept on by a whirlwind. 
 
 The long privation which the travellers had suffered gave 
 uncommon ardor to their present hunting. One of the Indians 
 attached to the party, finding himself on horseback in the 
 midst of the buffaloes, without either rifie, or bow and arrows, 
 dashed after a fine cow that was passing close by him, and 
 plunged his knife mto her side with such lucky aim as to bring 
 
AhVENTUlUm OF CAPTAIN B0NNFV2LLE, 281 
 
 hei to the ground. It was a daring deed; but hunger had 
 made him almost desperate. 
 
 The buffaloes are sometimes tenacious of , life, and must be 
 wounded in particular parts. A ball striking the shagged 
 frontlet of a bull produces no other effect than a toss of the 
 head and greater exasperation ; on the contrary, a ball strik- 
 ing the forehead of a cow is fatal. Several instances occurred 
 during this great hunting bout, of bulls fighting furiously after 
 having received mortal wounds. Wyeth, also, was witness to 
 an instance of the kind while encamped with Indians. Dur- 
 ing a grand hunt of the buffalo, one of the Indians pressed a 
 bull so closely that the animal turned suddenly on him. His 
 horse stopped short, or started back, and threw him. Before 
 he could rise the bull rushed furiously upon him, and gored 
 him in the chest so that his breath came out at the aperture. 
 He was conveyed back to the camp, and his wound was 
 dressed. Giving himself up for slain, he called round him 
 his friends, and made his wiU by word of mouth. It was 
 something like a death chant, and at the end of every sen- 
 tence those around responded in concord. He appeared no 
 ways intimidated by the approach of death. “ I think,” adds 
 Wyeth, ‘‘the Indians die better than the white men; perhaps, 
 from having less fear about the future.” 
 
 The buffalo may be approached very near, if the hunter 
 keeps to the leeward; but they are quick of scent, and will 
 take the alarm and move off from a party of hunters to the 
 windward, even when two miles distant. 
 
 The vast herds which had poured down into the Bear Elver 
 valley were now snow-bound, and remained in the neighbor- 
 hood of the camp throughout the winter. This furnished the 
 trappers and their Indian friends a perpetual carnival; so 
 that, to slay and eat seemed to be the main occupations of 
 the day. It is astonishing what loads of meat it requires to 
 cope with the appetite of a hunting camp. 
 
 The ravens and wolves soon came in for their share of the 
 good cheer. These constant attendants of the hunter gathered 
 in vast numbers as the v/inter advanced. They might be com- 
 pletely out of sight, but at the report of a gun, flights of ravens 
 would immediately be seen hovering in the air, no one knew 
 whence they came; while the sharp visages of the wolves 
 would peep down from the brow of every hill, waiting for the 
 hunter’s departure to pounce upon the carcass. 
 
 Beside the buffaloes, there were other neighbors snow-bound 
 
282 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 in the valley, whose presence did not promise to be so advan* 
 tageous. This was a band of Eutaw Indians who were en- 
 camped higher up on the river. They are a poor tribe that, in 
 a scale of the various tribes inhabiting these regions, would 
 rank between the Shoshoni’es and the Shoshokoes or Root Dig- 
 gers; though more bold and warlike than the latter. They 
 have but few rifles among them, and are generally armed with 
 bows and arrows. 
 
 As this band and the Shoshonies were at deadly feud, on ac- 
 count of old grievances, and as neither party stood in awe of 
 the other, it was feared some bloody scenes might ensue. Cap- 
 tain Bonneville, therefore, undertook the office of pacificator, 
 and sent to the Eutaw chiefs, inviting them to a friendly 
 smoke, in order to bring about a reconciliation. His invita- 
 tion was proudly declined ; whereupon he went to them in per- 
 son, and succeeded in effecting a suspension of hostilities until 
 the chiefs of the two tribes could meet in council. The braves 
 of the two rival camps sullenly acquiesced in the arrangement. 
 They would take their seats upon the hill tops, and w^atch their 
 quondam enemies hunting the buffalo in the plain below, and 
 evidently repine that their hands were tied up from a skir- 
 mish. The worthy captain however, succeeded in carrying 
 through his benevolent mediation. The chiefs met ; the amica- 
 ble pipe was smoked, the hatchet buried, and peace formally 
 proclaimed. After this, both camps united and mingled in 
 social intercourse. Private quarrels, however, would occa- 
 sionally occur in hunting, about the division of the game, and 
 blows would sometimes be exchanged over the carcass of a 
 buffalo ; but the chiefs wisely took no notice of these individual 
 brawls. 
 
 One day the scouts, who had been ranging the hills, brought 
 news of several large herds of antelopes in a small valley at no 
 great distance. This produced a sensation among the Indians, 
 for both tribes were in ragged condition, and sadly in want of 
 those shirts made of the skin of the antelope. It was deter- 
 mined to have “ a surround,” as the mode of hunting that ani 
 mal is called. Everything now assumed an air of mystic so- 
 lemnity and importance. The chiefs prepared their medicines 
 or charms each according to his own method, or fancied inspi 
 ration, generally with the compound of ceiiiain simples ; others 
 consulted the entrails of animals which they had sacrificed, 
 and thence drew favorable auguries. After much grave smolc- 
 ing and deliberating it was at length proclaimed that all who 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 283 
 
 were able to lift a club, man, woman, or child, should muster 
 for “the surround.” When all had congregated, they moved 
 in rude procession to the nearest point of the valley in question, 
 and there halted. Another course of smoking and deliberating, 
 of which the Indians are so fond, took place among the chiefs. 
 Directions were then issued for the horsemen to make a circuit 
 of about seven miles, so as to encompass the herd. When this 
 vas done, the whole mounted force dashed off simultaneously, 
 at full speed, shouting and yelling at the top of their voices, 
 in a short space of time the antelopes, started from their 
 hiding-places, came bounding from all points into the valley. 
 The riders, now gradually contracting their circle, brought 
 them nearer and nearer to the spot where the senior chief, sur- 
 rounded by the elders, male and female, were seated in super- 
 vision of the chase. The antelopes, nearly exhausted with 
 fatigue and fright, and bewildered by perpetual whooping, 
 made no effort to break through the ring of the hunters, but 
 ran round in small circles, until man, woman, and child beat 
 them down with bludgeons. Such is the nature of that species 
 of antelope hunting, technically called “a surroimd.” 
 
 CHAPTER XLVn. 
 
 A FESTIVE WINTER — CONVERSION OP THE SHOSHONIES —VISIT OF 
 TWO FREE TRAPPERS— GAYETY IN THE CAMP— A TOUCH OF 
 THE TENDER PASSION— THE RECLAIMED SQUAW— AN INDIAN FINE 
 LADY— AN ELOPEMENT — A PURSUIT— MARKET VALUE OF A BAD 
 WIFE. 
 
 1 
 
 Game continued to abound throughout the winter, and the 
 camp was overstocked with provisions. Beef and venison, 
 humps and haimches, buffalo tongues and marrow-bones, were 
 constantly cooking at every fire ; and the whole atmosphere 
 was redolent with the savory fumes of roast meat. It was, in- 
 deed, a continual “feast of fat things, ’’and though there might 
 be a lack of “ wine upon the lees,” yet we have shown that a 
 substitute was occasionally to be found in honey and alcohol. 
 
 Both the Shoshonies and the Eutaws conducted themselves 
 with great propriety. It is true, they now and then filched a 
 few trifles from their good friends, the Big Hearts, when their 
 
284 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 backs were turned; but then, they always treated them to 
 their faces with the utmost deference and respect, and good- 
 humoredly vied with the trappers in all kinds of feats of activ- 
 ity and mirthful sports. The two tribes maintained toward 
 each other, also, a friendliness of aspect which gave Captain 
 Bonneville reason to hope that all past animosity was effectu' 
 ally buried. 
 
 The two rival bands, however, had not long been mingled in 
 this social manner, before their ancient jealousy began to 
 break out in a new form. The senior chief of the Shoshonies 
 was a thinking man, and a man of observation. He had been 
 among the Nez Perces, listened to their new code of morality 
 and religion received from the white men, and attended their 
 devotional exercises. He had observed the effect of all this, in 
 elevating the tribe in the estimation of the white men; and 
 determined, by the same means, to gain for his own tribe a 
 superiority over their ignorant rivals, the Eutaws. He accord- 
 ingly assembled his people, and promulgated among them the 
 mongrel doctrines and form of worship of the Nez Perces; 
 recommending the same to their adoption. The Shoshonies 
 were struck with the novelty, at least, of the measure, and 
 entered into it with spirit. They began to observe Sundays 
 and hohdays, and to have their devotional dances, and chants, 
 and other ceremonials, about which the ignorant Eutaws knew 
 nothing ; while they exerted their usual competition in shoot- 
 ing and horseracing, and the renowned game of hand. 
 
 Matters were going on thus pleasantly and prosperously, in 
 this motley community of white and red men, when, one 
 morning, two stark free trappers, arrayed in the height of sav- 
 age finery, and mounted on steeds as fine and as fiery as them- 
 selves, and all jingling with hawks’ bells, came galloping, with 
 whoop and halloo, into the camp. 
 
 They were fresh from the winter encampment of the Ameri- 
 can Pur Company, in the Green Piver valley ; and had come 
 to pay their old comrades of Captain Bonneville’s company a 
 visit. An idea may be formed from the scenes we have already 
 given of conviviahty in the wilderness, of the manner in which 
 these game birds were received by those of their feather in the 
 camp; what feasting, what revelling, what boasting, what 
 bragging, what ranting and roaring, and racing and gambhng, 
 and squabbling and fighting, ensued among these boon com 
 panions. Captain Bonneville, it is true, maintained always a 
 certain degree of law and order in his camp, and checked each 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 286 
 
 fierce excess ; but the trappers, in their seasons of idleness and 
 relaxation require a degree of license and indulgence, to repay 
 them for the long privations and almost incredible hardships of 
 their periods of active service. 
 
 In the midst of all this feasting and frolicking, a freak of the 
 tender passion intervened, and wrought a complete change in 
 the scene. Among the Indian beauties in the camp of the 
 Eutaws and Shoshonies, the free trappers discovered two, who 
 had whilom figured as their squaws. These connections fre- 
 quently take place for a season, and sometimes continue for 
 years, if not perpetually ; but are apt to be broken when the 
 free trapper starts off, suddenly, on some distant and rough 
 expedition. 
 
 In the present instance, these wild blades were anxious to 
 regain their belles ; nor were the latter loath once more to come 
 under their protection. The free trapper combines, in the eye 
 of an Indian girl, all that is dashing and heroic in a warrior of 
 her own race — whose gait, and garb, and bravery he emulates 
 — with all that is gallant and glorious in the white man. And 
 then the indulgence with which he treats her, the finery in 
 which he decks her out, the state in which she moves, the sway 
 she enjoys over both his purse and person ; instead of being 
 the drudge and slave of an Indian husband, obliged to carry 
 his pack, and build his lodge, and make his fire, and bear his 
 cross humors and dry blows. No ; there is no comparison in 
 the eyes of an aspiring belle of the wilderness, between a free 
 trapper and an Indian brave. 
 
 "With respect to one of the parties the matter was easily ar- 
 ranged. The beauty in question was a pert little Eutaw wench, 
 that had been taken prisoner, in some war excursion, by a 
 Shoshonie. She was readily ransomed for a few articles of 
 trifling value; and forthwith figured about the camp in fine 
 array, “with rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes,” and 
 a tossed-up coquettish air that made her the envy, admiration, 
 and abhorrence of all the leathern-dressed, hard-working 
 squaws of her acquaintance. 
 
 As to the other beauty, it was quite a different matter. She 
 had become the wife of a Shoshonie brave. It is true, he had 
 another wife, of older date than the one in question; who, 
 therefore, took command in his household, and treated his new 
 spouse as a slave ; but the latter was the wife of his last fancy, 
 his latest caprice ; and was precious in his eyes. All attempt 
 to bargain with him, therefore, was useless ; the very proposi- 
 
286 VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 tion was repulsed with anger and disdain. The spirit of the 
 trapper was roused, his pride was piqued as well as his passion. 
 He endeavored to prevail upon his quondam mistress to elope 
 with him. His horses were fleet, the winter nights were long 
 and dark, before daylight they would be beyond the reach of 
 pursuit ; and once at the encampment in Green River valley, 
 they might set the whole band of Shoshonies at deflance. 
 
 The Indian girl listened and longed. Her heart yearned 
 after the ease and splendor of condition of a trapper’s bride, 
 and throbbed to be freed from the capricious control of the 
 premier squaw ; but she dreaded the failure of the plan, and 
 the fury of a Shoshonie husband. They parted; the Indian 
 girl in tears, and the madcap trapper more mad than ever, 
 with his thwarted passion. 
 
 Their interviews had, probably, been detected, and the jeal- 
 ousy of the Shoshonie brave aroused : a clamor of angry voices 
 was heard in his lodge, with the sound of blows, and of female 
 weeping and lamenting. At night, as the trapper lay tossing 
 on his pallet, a soft voice whispered at the door of his lodge. 
 His mistress stood trembling before him. She was ready to 
 follow whithersoever he should lead. 
 
 In an instant he was up and out. He had two prime horses, 
 sure and swift of foot, and of great wind. With stealthy quiet, 
 they were brought up and saddled ; and in a few moments he 
 and his prize were careering over the snow, with which the 
 whole country was covered. In the eagerness of escape, they 
 had made no provision for their journey; days must elapse be- 
 fore they could reach their haven of safety, and mountains 
 and prairies be traversed, wrapped in all the desolation of 
 winter. For the present, however, they thought of nothing 
 but flight ; urging their horses forward over the dreary wastes, 
 and fancying, in the howling of every blast, they heard the 
 yell of the pursuer. 
 
 At early dawn, the Shoshonie became aware of his loss. 
 Mounting his swiftest horse, he set off in hot pursuit. He soon 
 found the trail of the fugitives, and spurred on in hopes of 
 overtaking them. The winds, however, which swept the val- 
 ley, had drifted the light snow into the prints made by the 
 horses’ hoofs. In a little while he lost all trace of them, and 
 was completely thrown out of the chase. He knew, however, 
 the situation of the camp toward which they were bound, and 
 a direct course through the mountains, by wliich he might 
 arrive there sooner than the fugitives. Through the most 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 287 
 
 rugged defiles, therefore, he urged his course by day and night, 
 scarce pausing until he reached the camp. It was some time 
 before the fugitives made their appearance. Six days had 
 they been traversing the wintry wilds. They came, haggard 
 with hunger and fatigue, and their horses faltering under them. 
 The first object that met their eyes on entering the camp was 
 the Shoshonie brave. He rushed, knife in hand, to plunge it 
 m the heart that had proved false to him. The trapper threw 
 himself before the cowering form of his mistress, and, exhaust- 
 ed as he was, prepared for a deadly struggle. The Shoshonie 
 paused. His habitual awe of the white man checked his arm; 
 the trapper’s friends crowded to the spot, and arrested him. 
 A parley ensued. A kind of crim. con, adjudication took place ; 
 such as frequently occurs in civilized life. A couple of horses 
 were declared to be a fair compensation for the loss of a woman 
 who had previously lost her heart ; with this, the Shoshonie 
 brave was fain to pacify his passion. He returned to Captain 
 Bonneville’s camp, somewhat crestfallen, it is true ; but parried 
 the officious condolements of his friends by observing that two 
 good horses were very good pay for one bad wife. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 BREAKING UP OF WINTER QUARTERS— MOVE TO GREEN RIVER— 
 A TRAPPER AND HIS RIFLE--AN ARRIVAL IN CAMP— A FREE 
 TRAPPER AND HIS SQUAW IN DISTRESS— STORY OF A BLACK- 
 FOOT BELLE. 
 
 The winter was now breaking up, the snows were melted 
 from the hills, and from the lower parts of the mountains, and 
 the time for decamping had arrived. Captain Bonneville dis- 
 patched a party to the caches, who brought away all the effects 
 concealed there, and on the 1st of April (1835), the camp was 
 broken up, and every one on the move. The white men and 
 their allies, the Eutaws and Shoshonies, parted with many re- 
 grets and sincere expressions of good-will; for their inter- 
 course throughout the winter had been of the most friendly 
 kind. 
 
 Captain Bonneville and his party passed by Ham’s Fork, 
 and reached the Colorado, or Green River, without accident, 
 
288 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 on the banks of which they remained during the residue of the 
 spring. During this time, they were conscious that a band of 
 hostile Indians were hovering about their vicinity, watching 
 for an opportunity to slay or steal ; but the vigilant precau- 
 tions of Captain Bonneville baffled ail their manoeuvres. In 
 such dangerous times, the experienced mountaineer is never 
 without his rifle even in camp. On going froin lodge to lodge 
 to visit his comrades, be takes it Avith him. On seating him- 
 self in a lodge, he lays it beside him, ready to be snatched up ; 
 when he goes out, he takes it up as regularly as a citizen would 
 his walking-staff. His rifle is his constant friend and protector. 
 
 On the 10th of June, the party were a little to the east of 
 the Wind River Mountains, Avhere they halted for a time in 
 excellent pasturage, to give their horses a chance to recruit 
 their strength for a long journey ; for it was Captain Bonne- 
 ville’s intention to shape his course to the settlements ; having 
 already been detained by the complication of his duties, and by 
 various losses and impediments, far beyond the time specified 
 in his leave of absence. 
 
 While the party was thus reposing in the neighborhood of 
 the Wind River Mountains, a solitary free trapper rode one 
 day into the camp, and accosted Captain Bonneville. He be- 
 longed, he said, to a party of thirty hunters, who had just 
 passed through the neighborhood, but whom he had aban- 
 doned in consequence of their ill treatment of a brother 
 trapper; whom they had cast off from their party, and left 
 with his bag and baggage, and an Indian Avife into the 
 bargain, in the midst of a desolate prairie. The horseman 
 gave a piteous account of the situation of this helpless pair, 
 and sohcited the loan of horses to bring them and their effects 
 to the camp. 
 
 The captain Avas not a man to refuse assistance to any one 
 in distress, especially when there was a woman in the case ; 
 horses were immediately dispatched, Avith an escort, to aid the 
 unfortunate couple. The next day they made their appear- 
 ance Avith all their effects ; the man, a stalwart mountaineer, 
 Avith a peculiarly game look ; the woman, a young Blackfoot 
 beauty, arraved in the trappings and trinketry of a free 
 trapper’s bride. 
 
 Finding the Avoman to be quick-witted and communicative. 
 Captain Bonneville entered into conversation with her, and 
 obtained from her many particulars concerning the habits and 
 customs of her tribe; especially their wars and huntings. 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 289 
 
 They pride themselves upon being the *"best legs of the 
 mountains,” and hunt the buffalo on foot. This is done in 
 spring time, when the frosts have thawed and the ground is 
 soft. The heavy buffalo then sink over their hoofs at every 
 step, and are easily overtaken by the Blackfeet, whose fleet 
 steps press lightly on the surface. It is said, however, that 
 the buffalo on the Pacific side of the Eocky Mountains are 
 fleeter and more active than on the Atlantic side ; those upon 
 the plains of the Columbia can scarcely be overtaken by a 
 horse that would outstrip the same animal in the neighbor- 
 hood of the Platte, the usual hunting ground of the Blackfeet. 
 In the course of further conversation. Captain Bonneville 
 drew from the Indian woman her whole story ; which gave a 
 picture of savage life, and of the drudgery and hardships to 
 which an Indian wife is subject. 
 
 “ I was the wife,” said she, “of a Biackfoot warrior, and I 
 served him faithfully. Who was so wen served as he? 
 Whose lodge was so well provided, or kept so clean? I 
 brought wood in the morning, and placed water always at 
 hand. I watched for his coming; and he found his meat 
 cooked and ready. If he rose to go forth, there was nothing 
 to delay him. I searched the thought that was in his heart, 
 to save him the trouble of speaking. When I went abroad on 
 errands for him, the chiefs and warriors smiled upon me, and 
 the young braves spoke soft things, in secret; but my feet were 
 in the straight path, and my eyes cculd see nothing but him. 
 
 “When he went out to hunt, or to war, who aided to equip 
 liim, but I? When he returned, I met him at the door; I took 
 his gun ; and he entered without further thought. While he 
 sat and smoked, I unloaded his horses; tied them to the 
 stakes, brought in their loads, and was quickly at his feet. If 
 his moccasins were wet I took them off and put on others 
 which were dry and warm. I dressed all the skins he had 
 taken in the chase. He could never say to me, why is it not 
 done? He hunted the deer, the antelope, and the buffalo, and 
 he watched for the enemy. Everything else was done by me. 
 When our people moved their camp, he mounted his horse 
 and rode away ; free as though he had fallen from the skies. 
 He had nothing to do with the labor of the camp ; it was I 
 that packed the horses and led them on the journey. When 
 we halted in the evening, and he sat with the other braves and 
 smoked, it was I that pitched his lodge ; and when he came to 
 eat and sleep, his supper and his bed were ready. 
 
290 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 “I served him faithfully; and what was my reward? A 
 cloud was always on his brow, and sharp hghtning on his 
 tongue. I was his dog; and not his wife. 
 
 Who was it that scarred and bruised me? It was he. My 
 brother saw how I was treated. His heart was big for me. 
 He begged me to leave my tyrant and fly. Where could I go? 
 If retaken, who would protect me? My brother was not a 
 chief; he could not save me from blows and wounds, perhaps 
 death. At length I was persuaded. I followed my brother 
 from the village. He pointed away to the Nez Perces, and bade 
 me go and hve in peace Cwinong them. W e parted. On the third 
 day I saw the lodges of the Nez Perces before me. I paused 
 for a moment, and had no heart to go on; but my horse 
 neighed, and I took it as a good sign, and suffered him to 
 gallop forward. In a little while I was in the midst of the 
 lodges. As I sat silent on my horse, the people gathered 
 round me, and inquired whence I came. I told my story. A 
 chief now wrapped his blanket close around him, and bade me 
 dismount. I obeyed. He took my horse to lead him away* 
 My heart grew small within me. I felt, on parting with my 
 horse, as if my last friend was gone. I had no words, and my 
 eyes were dry. As he led off my horse a young brave stepped 
 forward. ‘Are you a chief of the people?’ cried he. ‘Do we 
 listen to you in council, and follow you in battle? Behold! a 
 stranger flies to our camp from the dogs of Blackfeet, and asks 
 protection. Let shame cover your face! The stranger is a 
 woman, and alone. If she were a warrior, or had a warrior 
 by her side, your heart would not be big enough to take her 
 horse. But he is yours. By the right of war you may claim 
 him ; but look ! ’ — his bow was drawn, and the arrow ready ! — 
 ‘you never shall cross his back ! ’ The arrow pierced the heart 
 of the horse, and he fell dead. 
 
 “ An old woman said she would be my mother. She led me 
 to her lodge; my heart was thawed by her kindness, and 
 my eyes burst forth with tears ; like the frozen fountains in 
 springtime. She never changed; but as the days passed 
 away, was still a mother to me. The people were loud in 
 praise of the young brave, and the] chief was ashamed. I 
 lived in peace. 
 
 “A party of trappers came to the village, and one of them 
 took me for his wife. This is he. I am very happy ; he treats 
 me with kindness, and I have taught him the language of my 
 people. As we were travelling this way, some of the Black 
 
ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 291 
 
 feet warriors beset us, and carried off the horses of the party, 
 We followed, and my husband held a parley with them. The 
 guns were laid down, and the pipe was lighted ; but some of 
 the white men attempted to seize the horses by force, and 
 then a battle began. The snow was deep ; the white men sank 
 into it at every step ; but the red men, with their snow-shoes, 
 passed over the surface like birds, and drove off many of the 
 horses in sight of their owners. With those that remained we 
 resumed our journey. At length words took place between 
 the leader of the party and my husband. He took away our 
 horses, which had escaped in the battle, and turned us from 
 his camp. My husband had one good friend among the 
 trappers. That is he (pointing to the man who had asked 
 assistance for them). He is a good man. IL’s heart is big. 
 When he came in from hunting, and found that we had been 
 driven away, he gave up all his wages, and lollowed us, that 
 he might speak good words for us to the white captain.” 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 RENDEZVOUS AT WIND RIVER— CAMPAIGN OF MONTERO AND HIS 
 BRIGADE IN THE CROW COUNTRY — WARS BETWEEN THE 
 CROWS AND BLACKFEET— DEATH OF ARAPOOISH— BLACKFEET 
 LURKERS— SAGACITY OF THE HORSE — DEPENDENCE OF THE 
 HUNTER ON HIS HORSE— RETURN TO THE SETTLEMENTS. 
 
 On the 22d of June Captain Bonneville raised his camp, 
 and moved to the forks of Wind River; the appointed place of 
 rendezvous. In a few days he was joined there by the 
 brigade of Montero, which had been sent, in the preceding 
 year, to beat up the Crow country, and afterward proceed to 
 the Arkansas. Montero had followed the early part of his 
 instructions ; after trapping upon some of the upper streams, 
 he proceeded to Powder River. Here he fell in with the Crow 
 villages or bands, who treated him with unusual kindness, 
 and prevailed upon him to take up his winter quarters among 
 them. 
 
 The Crows at that time were struggling almost for existence 
 with their old enemies, the Blackf eet ; who, in the past year, 
 had picked off the flower of their warriors in various engage- 
 
292 ADVEl^TURES OF GAFT AIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 ments, and among the rest, Arapooish, the friend of the white 
 men. That sagacious and magnanimous chief had beheld, 
 with grief, the ravages which war was making in his tribe, 
 and that it was declining in force, and must eventually be 
 destroyed unless some signal blow could be struck to retrieve 
 its fortunes. In a pitched battle of the two tribes, he made a 
 speech to his warriors, urging them to set everything at 
 hazard in one furious charge ; which done, he led the v/ay into 
 the thickest of the foe. He was soon separated from his men, 
 and fell covered with wounds, but his self-devotion was not in 
 vain. The Blackf eet were defeated ; and from that time the 
 Crows plucked up fresh heart, and were frequently successful, 
 
 Montero had not been long encamped among them, when he 
 discovered that the Blackfeet were hovering about the neigh- 
 borhood. One day the hunters came galloping into the camp, 
 and proclaimed that a band of the enemy was at hand. The 
 Crows flew to arms, leaped on their horses, and dashed out in 
 squadrons in pursuit. They overtook the retreating enemy in 
 the midst of a plain. A desperate fight ensued. The Crows 
 had the advantage of numbers, and of fighting on horseback. 
 The greater part of the Blackfeet were slain ; the remnant took 
 shelter in a close thicket of willows, where the horse could not 
 enter; whence they plied their bows vigorously. 
 
 The Crows drew off out of bow-shot, and endeavored, by 
 taunts and bravadoes, to draw the warriors out of their 
 retreat. A few of the best mounted among them rode apart 
 from the rest. One of their number then advanced alone, with 
 that martial air and equestrian grace for which the tribe is 
 noted. When within an arrow’s flight of the thicket, he 
 loosened his rein, urged his horse to full speed, threw his body 
 on the opposite side, so as to hang by but one leg, and present 
 no mark to the foe ; in this way he swept along in front of the 
 thicket, launching his arrows from under the neck of his 
 steed. Then regaining his seat in the saddle, he wheeled 
 round and returned whooping and scoffing to his companions, 
 who received him with yells of applause. 
 
 Another and another horseman repeated this exploit; but 
 the Blackfeet were not to be taunted out of their safe shelter. 
 The victors feared to drive desperate men to extremities, so 
 they forbore to attempt the thicket. Toward night they gave 
 over the attack, and returned all-glorious with the scalps of 
 the slain. Then came on the usual feasts and triumphs ; the 
 scalp-dance of warriors round the ghastly trophies, and all 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 29g 
 
 the other fierce revelry of barbarous warfare. When the 
 braves had finished with the scalps, they were, as usual, given 
 up to the women and children, and made the objects of new 
 parades and dances. They were then treasured up as invalu- 
 able trophies and decorations by the braves who had won 
 them. 
 
 It is worthy of note, that the scalp of a white man, either 
 through policy or fear, is treated with more charity than that 
 of an Indian. The warrior who won it is entitled to his 
 triumph if he demands it. In such case, the war party alone 
 dance round the scalp. It is then taken down, and the shag- 
 ged frontlet of a buffalo substituted in its place, and aban- 
 doned to the triumphs and insults of the million. 
 
 To avoid being involved in these guerillas, as well as to 
 escape from the extremely social intercourse of the Crows, 
 which began to be oppressive, Montero moved to the distance 
 of several miles from their camps, and there formed a winter 
 cantonment of huts. He now maintained a vigilant watch at 
 night. Their horses, which were turned loose to graze during 
 the day, under heedful eyes, were brought in at night, and 
 shut up in strong pens, built of large logs of cotton-wood. 
 The snows, during a portion of the winter, were so deep that 
 the poor animals could find but little sustenance. Here and 
 there a tuft of grass would peer above the snow; but they 
 were in general driven to browse the twigs and tender 
 branches of the trees. When they were turned out in the 
 morning, the first moments of freedom from the confinement 
 of the pen were spent in frisking and gambolling. This done, 
 they went soberly and sadly to work, to glean their scanty 
 subsistence for the day. In the meantime the men stripped 
 the bark of the cotton-wood tree for the evening fodder. As 
 the poor horses would return toward night, with sluggish and 
 dispirited air, the moment they saw their owners approaching 
 them with blankets filled with cotton-wood bark, their whole 
 demeanor underwent a change. A universal neighing and 
 capering took place; they would rush forward, smell to the 
 blankets, paw the earth, snort, whinny and prance round 
 with head and tail erect, until the blankets were opened, and 
 the welcome provender spread before them. These evidences 
 of intelligence and gladness were frequently recounted by the 
 trappers as proving the sagacity of the animal. 
 
 These veteran rovers of the mountains look upon their 
 horses as in some respects gifted with almost human intellect. 
 
294 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 
 
 An old and experienced trapper, when mounting guard upon 
 the camp in dark nights and times of peril, gives heedful 
 attention to all the sounds and signs of the horses. No enemy 
 enters nor approaches the camp without attracting their 
 notice, and their movements not only give a vague alarm, bui 
 it is said, will even indicate to the knowing trapper the very 
 quarter whence the danger threatens. 
 
 In the daytime, too, while a hunter is engaged on the 
 prairie, cutting up the deer or buffalo he has slain, he depends 
 upon his faithful horse as a sentinel. The sagacious animai 
 sees and smells all round him, and by his starting and whinny- 
 ing, gives notice of the approach of strangers. There seems to 
 be a dumb communion and fellowship, a sort of fraternal sym- 
 pathy between the hunter and his horse. They mutually rely 
 upon each other for company and protection ; and nothing is 
 more difficult, it is said, than to surprise an experienced hun- 
 ter on the prairie, while his old and favorite steed is at his side. 
 
 Montero had not long removed his camp from the vicinity of 
 the Crows, and fixed himself in his new quarters, when the 
 Blackfeet marauders discovered his cantonment, and began to 
 haunt the vicinity. He kept up a vigilant watch, however, 
 and foiled every attempt of the enemy, who, at length, seemed 
 to have given up in despair, and abandoned the neighborhood. 
 The trappers relaxed their vigilance, therefore, and one night, 
 after a day of severe labor, no guards were posted, and the 
 whole camp was soon asleep. Toward midnight, however, the 
 lightest sleepers were roused by the trampling of noofs; and, 
 giving the alarm, the whole party were immediately on their 
 legs and hastened to the pens. The bars were down; but no 
 enemy was to be seen or heard, and the Horses being all found 
 hard by, it was supposed the bars had been left down through 
 negligence. All were once more asleep, when, in about an 
 hour there was a second alarm, and it was discovered that 
 several horses were missing. The rest .were moimted, and so 
 spirited a pursuit took place, that eighteen of the number 
 carried off were regained, and but three remained in pos- 
 session of the enemy. Traps for wolves, had been set about 
 the camp the preceding day. In the morning it was dis- 
 covered that a Blackf oot was entrapped by one of them, but 
 had succeeded in dragging it off. His trail was followed for a 
 long distance, which he must have limped alone. At length 
 he appeared to have fallen in with some of his comrades, who 
 had relieved him from his painful incumbrance. ' 
 
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 295 
 
 These were the leading incidents of Montero’s campaign in 
 the Crow country. The united parties now celebrated the 4th 
 of July, in rough hunters’ style, with hearty conviviality; 
 after which Captain Bonneville made his final arrangements. 
 Leaving Montero with a brigade of trappers to open another 
 campaign, he put himself at the head of the residue of his 
 men, and set off on his return to civilized life. We shaU not 
 detail his journey along the course of the Nebraska, and so, 
 from point to point of the wilderness, until he and his band 
 reached the frontier settlements on the 22d of August. 
 
 Here, according to his own account, his cavalcade might 
 have been taken for a procession of tatterdemalion savages ; 
 for the men were ragged almost to nakedness, and had con- 
 tracted a wildness of aspect during three years of wandering 
 in the wilderness. A few hours in a populous town, however, 
 produced a magical metamorphosis. Hats of the most ample 
 brim and longest nap ; coats with buttons that shone like mir- 
 rors, and pantaloons of the most ample plenitude, took place 
 of the well-worn trapper’s equipments ; and the happy wearers 
 might be seen strolling about in all directions, scattering their 
 silver like sailors just from a cruise. 
 
 The worthy captain, however, seems by no means to have 
 shared the excitement of his men, on finding himself once 
 more in the thronged resorts of civilized life, but, on the con- 
 trary, to have looked back to the wilderness with regret. 
 “Though the prospect,” says he, “of once more tasting the 
 blessings of peaceful society, and passing days and nights 
 under the calm guardianship of the laws, was not without its 
 attractions ; yet to those of us whose whole lives had been spent 
 in the stirring excitement and perpetual watchfulness of ad- 
 ventures in the wilderness, the change was far from promising 
 an increase of that contentment and inward satisfaction most 
 conducive to happiness. He who, like myself, has roved al- 
 most from boyhood among the children of the forest, and over 
 the unfurrowed plains and rugged heights of the western 
 wastes, will not be startled to learn, that notwithstanding all 
 the fascinations of the world on this civilized side of the moun- 
 tains, I would fain make my bow to the splendors and gayeties 
 of the metropolis, and plunge again amid the hardships and 
 perils of the wilderness.” 
 
 We have only to add that the affairs of the captain have 
 been satisfactorily arranged with the War Department, and 
 that he is actually in service at Fort Gibson, on our western 
 
296 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 frontier, where we hope he may meet with further oppor- 
 tunities of indulging his peculiar tastes, and of collecting 
 graphic and characteristic details of the great western wilds 
 and their motley inhabitants. 
 
 We here close our picturings of the Rocky Mountains and 
 their wild inhabitants, and of the wild life that prevails there; 
 which we have been anxious to fix on record, because we are 
 aware that this singular state of things is full of mutation, 
 and must soon undergo great changes, if not entirely pass 
 awayi The fur trade itself, which has given life to all this 
 portraiture, is essentially evanescent. Rival parties of trap- 
 pers soon exhaust the streams, especially when competition 
 renders them heedless and wasteful of the beaver. The fur- 
 bearing animals extinct, a complete change will come over the 
 scene ; the gay free trapper and his steed, decked out in wild 
 array, and tinkling with bells and trinketry ; the savage war 
 chief, plumed and painted and ever on the prowl ; the traders’ 
 cavalcade, winding through defiles or over naked plains, with 
 the stealthy war party lurking on its trail ; the buffalo chase, 
 the hunting camp, the mad carouse in the midst of danger, 
 the night attack, the stampado, the scamper, the fierce skir- 
 mish among rocks and cliffs — all this romance of savage life, 
 which yet exists among the mountains, will then exist but in 
 frontier story, and seem like the fictions of chivalry or fairy 
 tale. 
 
 Some new system of things, or rather some new modifica- 
 tion, will succeed among the roving people of this vast wilder- 
 ness ; but just as opposite, perhaps, to the inhabitants of civili- 
 zation. The great Chippewyan chain of mountains, and the 
 sandy and volcanic plains which extend on either side, are 
 represented as incapable of cultivation. The pasturage which 
 prevails there during a certain portion of the year, soon 
 withers under the aridity of the atmosphere, and leaves noth- 
 ing but dreary wastes. An immense belt of rocky mountains 
 and volcanic plains, several hundred miles in width, must ever 
 remain an irreclaimable wilderness, intervening between the 
 abodes of civilization, and affording a last refuge to the 
 Indian. Here roving tribes of hunters^ living in tents or 
 lodges, and following the migrations of the game, may lead a 
 life of savage independence, where there is nothing to tempt 
 the cupidity of the white man. The amalgamation of various 
 
ADVENTUllKS OK CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 297 
 
 tribes, and of white men of every nation, will in time produce 
 hybrid races like the mountain Tartars of the Caucasus. 
 Possessed as they are of immense droves of horses, should 
 they continue their present predatory and warlike habits, 
 they may in time become a scourge to the civilized frontiers 
 on either side of the mountains, as they are at present a ter- 
 ror to the traveller and trader. 
 
 The facts disclosed in the present work clearly manifest the 
 policy of establishing military posts and a mounted force to 
 protect our traders in their journeys across the great western 
 wilds, and of pushing the outposts into the very heart of the 
 singular wilderness we have laid open, so as to maintain some 
 degree of sway over the country, and to put an end to the kind 
 of '‘blackmail,” levied on all occasions by the savage “chivalry 
 of the mountains.” 
 
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