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Title: Trails of the Pathfinders

Author: George Bird Grinnell

Release date: January 5, 2017 [eBook #53897]
                Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

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TRAILS OF THE PATHFINDERS


      *      *      *      *      *      *

IN THE SAME SERIES

PUBLISHED BY CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS


  =The Boy’s Catlin.= My Life Among the Indians, by GEORGE
    CATLIN. Edited by MARY GAY HUMPHREYS. Illustrated.
    12mo.                                      _net_ $1.50

  =The Boy’s Hakluyt.= English Voyages of Adventure and
    Discovery, retold from Hakluyt by EDWIN M. BACON.
    Illustrated. 12mo.                         _net_ $1.50

  =The Boy’s Drake.= By EDWIN M. BACON. Illustrated. 12mo.
                                               _net_ $1.50

  =Trails of the Pathfinders.= By GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL.
    Illustrated. 12mo.                         _net_ $1.50

      *      *      *      *      *      *


TRAILS OF THE PATHFINDERS


[Illustration:

  CAPTAINS LEWIS AND CLARK WERE MUCH PUZZLED AT THIS POINT TO KNOW
      WHICH OF THE RIVERS BEFORE THEM WAS THE MAIN MISSOURI.]


TRAILS OF THE PATHFINDERS

by

GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL

Author of “Blackfoot Lodge Tales,” “Pawnee Hero
Stories and Folk Tales,” “The Story of the
Indian,” “Indians of Today,” etc.

Illustrated







New York
Charles Scribner’S Sons
1911

Copyright, 1911, by
Charles Scribner’S Sons

Published April, 1911

[Illustration]




PREFACE


The chapters in this book appeared first as part of a series of
articles under the same title contributed to _Forest and Stream_
several years ago. At the time they aroused much interest and there was
a demand that they should be put into book form.

The books from which these accounts have been drawn are good reading
for all Americans. They are at once history and adventure. They deal
with a time when half the continent was unknown; when the West--distant
and full of romance--held for the young, the brave and the hardy,
possibilities that were limitless.

The legend of the kingdom of El Dorado did not pass with the passing of
the Spaniards. All through the eighteenth and a part of the nineteenth
century it was recalled in another sense by the fur trader, and with
the discovery of gold in California it was heard again by a great
multitude--and almost with its old meaning.

Besides these old books on the West, there are many others which every
American should read. They treat of that same romantic period, and
describe the adventures of explorers, Indian fighters, fur hunters and
fur traders. They are a part of the history of the continent.

NEW YORK, _April_, 1911.




CONTENTS


  CHAPTER                                                           PAGE
       I. INTRODUCTION                                                 3

      II. ALEXANDER HENRY--I                                          13

     III. ALEXANDER HENRY--II                                         36

      IV. JONATHAN CARVER                                             57

       V. ALEXANDER MACKENZIE--I                                      84

      VI. ALEXANDER MACKENZIE--II                                    102

     VII. ALEXANDER MACKENZIE--III                                   121

    VIII. LEWIS AND CLARK--I                                         138

      IX. LEWIS AND CLARK--II                                        154

       X. LEWIS AND CLARK--III                                       169

      XI. LEWIS AND CLARK--IV                                        179

     XII. LEWIS AND CLARK--V                                         190

    XIII. ZEBULON M. PIKE--I                                         207

     XIV. ZEBULON M. PIKE--II                                        226

      XV. ZEBULON M. PIKE--III                                       238

     XVI. ALEXANDER HENRY (THE YOUNGER)--I                           253

    XVII. ALEXANDER HENRY (THE YOUNGER)--II                          271

   XVIII. ALEXANDER HENRY (THE YOUNGER)--III                         287

     XIX. ROSS COX--I                                                301

      XX. ROSS COX--II                                               319

     XXI. THE COMMERCE OF THE PRAIRIES--I                            330

    XXII. THE COMMERCE OF THE PRAIRIES--II                           341

   XXIII. SAMUEL PARKER                                              359

    XXIV. THOMAS J. FARNHAM--I                                       372

     XXV. THOMAS J. FARNHAM--II                                      382

    XXVI. FREMONT--I                                                 393

   XXVII. FREMONT--II                                                405

  XXVIII. FREMONT--III                                               415

    XXIX. FREMONT--IV                                                428

     XXX. FREMONT--V                                                 435




ILLUSTRATIONS


  CAPTAINS LEWIS AND CLARK WERE MUCH PUZZLED AT THIS POINT TO
      KNOW WHICH OF THE RIVERS BEFORE THEM WAS THE MAIN MISSOURI
                                                          _Frontispiece_

                                                             FACING PAGE
  “I NOW RESIGNED MYSELF TO THE FATE WITH WHICH I WAS MENACED”        28

  A MAN OF THE NAUDOWESSIE                                            62
      From _Travels Through the Interior Parts of North America_,
        by Jonathan Carver

  A MAN OF THE OTTIGAUMIES                                            62
      From _Travels Through the Interior Parts of North America_,
        by Jonathan Carver

  ALEXANDER MACKENZIE                                                 84
      From Mackenzie’s _Voyages from Montreal Through the Continent
        of North America_, etc.

  MACKENZIE AND THE MEN JUMPED OVERBOARD                             118

  LIEUTENANT ZEBULON MONTGOMERY PIKE, MONUMENT AT COLORADO SPRINGS,
      COLORADO                                                       208

  BUFFALO ON THE SOUTHERN PLAINS                                     236
      From Kendall’s _Narrative of the Texas Santa Fé Expedition_

  TWO MEN MOUNTED ON HER BACK, BUT SHE WAS AS ACTIVE WITH THIS LOAD
      AS BEFORE                                                      270

  FUR TRADERS OF THE NORTH                                           280

  ASTORIA IN 1813                                                    302
      From Franchere’s _Narrative of a Voyage to the Northwest
        Coast of America_

  CARAVAN ON THE MARCH                                               334
      From Gregg’s _Commerce of the Prairies_

  WAGONS PARKED FOR THE NIGHT                                        340
      From Gregg’s _Commerce of the Prairies_

  TRAPPERS ATTACKED BY INDIANS                                       360
      From an old print by A. Tait

  TRAIN STAMPEDED BY WILD HORSES                                     372
      From Bartlett’s _Texas, New Mexico, California_, etc.

  MAJOR-GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT                                      394

  AN OTO COUNCIL                                                     414
      From James’s _An Expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky
        Mountains by Major Stephen H. Long_.


  MAP
                                                                    PAGE
  ROUTES OF SOME OF THE PATHFINDERS                                    2




TRAILS OF THE PATHFINDERS

[Illustration: ROUTES OF SOME OF THE PATHFINDERS]




TRAILS OF THE PATHFINDERS




CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION


Three centuries ago half a dozen tiny hamlets, peopled by white men,
were scattered along the western shores of the North Atlantic Ocean.
These little settlements owed allegiance to different nations of
Europe, each of which had thrust out a hand to grasp some share of the
wealth which might lie in the unknown wilderness which stretched away
from the seashore toward the west.

The “Indies” had been discovered more than a hundred years before, but
though ships had sailed north and ships had sailed south, little was
known of the land, through which men were seeking a passage to share
the trade which the Portuguese, long before, had opened up with the
mysterious East. That passage had not been found. To the north lay ice
and snow, to the south--vaguely known--lay the South Sea. What that
South Sea was, what its limits, what its relations to lands already
visited, were still secrets.

St. Augustine had been founded in 1565; and forty years later the
French made their first settlement at Port Royal in what is now Nova
Scotia. In 1607 Jamestown was settled; and a year later the French
established Quebec. The Pilgrims landed in Massachusetts in 1620 and
the first settlement of the Dutch on the island of Manhattan was in
1623. All these settlers establishing themselves in a new country
found enough to do in the struggle to procure subsistence, to protect
themselves from the elements and from the attacks of enemies, without
attempting to discover what lay inland--beyond the sound of the salt
waves which beat upon the coast. Not until later was any effort made to
learn what lay in the vast interior.

Time went on. The settlements increased. Gradually men pushed farther
and farther inland. There were wars; and one nation after another was
crowded from its possessions, until, at length, the British owned all
the settlements in eastern temperate America. The white men still clung
chiefly to the sea-coast, and it was in western Pennsylvania that the
French and Indians defeated Braddock in 1755, George Washington being
an officer under his command.

A little later came the war of the Revolution, and a new people sprang
into being in a land a little more than two hundred and fifty years
known. This people, teeming with energy, kept reaching out in all
directions for new things. As they increased in numbers they spread
chiefly in the direction of least resistance. The native tribes were
easier to displace than the French, who held forts to the north, and
the Spanish, who possessed territory to the south; and the temperate
climate toward the west attracted them more than the cold of the
north or the heat of the south. So the Americans pushed on always
to the setting sun, and their early movements gave truth to Bishop
Berkeley’s famous line, written long before and in an altogether
different connection, “Westward the course of empire takes its way.”
The Mississippi was reached, and little villages, occupied by Frenchmen
and their half-breed children, began to change, to be transformed into
American towns. Yet in 1790, ninety-five per cent. of the population of
the United States was on the Atlantic seaboard.

Now came the Louisiana Purchase, and immediately after that the
expedition across the continent by Meriwether Lewis and William
Clark. The trip took two years’ time, and the reports brought back
by the intrepid explorers, telling the wonderful story of what lay
in the unknown beyond, greatly stimulated the imagination of the
western people. Long before this it had become known that the western
ocean--the South Sea of an earlier day--extended north along the
continent, and that there was no connection here with India. It was
known, too, that the Spaniards occupied the west coast. In 1790,
Umfreville said: “That there are European traders settled among the
Indians from the other side of the continent is without doubt. I,
myself, have seen horses with Roman capitals burnt in their flanks with
a hot iron. I likewise once saw a hanger with Spanish words engraved on
the blade. Many other proofs have been obtained to convince us that
the Spaniards on the opposite side of the continent make their inland
peregrinations as well as ourselves.”

Western travel and exploration, within the United States, began
soon after the return of Lewis and Clark. The trapper, seeking for
peltry--the rich furs so much in demand in Europe--was the first to
penetrate the unknown wilds; but close upon his heels followed the
Indian trader, who used trapper and Indian alike to fill his purse.
With the trapper and the trader, naturalists began to push out into
the west, studying the fauna and flora of the new lands. About the
same time the possibilities of trade with the Mexicans induced the
beginnings of the Santa Fé trade, that Commerce of the Prairies which
has been so fully written of by the intrepid spirits who took part
in it. Meantime the government continued to send out expeditions,
poorly provided in many ways, scarcely armed, barely furnished with
provisions, without means of making their way through the unknown and
dangerous regions to which they were sent, but led by heroes.

For forty years this work of investigation went on; for forty years
there took place a peopling of the new West by men who were in very
deed the bravest and most adventurous of our brave and hardy border
population. They scattered over the plains and through the mountains;
they trapped the beaver and fought the Indian and guided the explorers;
and took to themselves wives from among their very enemies, and raised
up broods of hardy offspring, some of whom we may yet meet as we
journey through the cattle and the farming country which used to be the
far West.

If ever any set of men played their part in subduing the wilderness,
and in ploughing the ground to receive its seed of settlement, and to
rear the crop of civilization which is now being harvested, these men
did that work, and did it well. It is inconceivable that they should
have had the foresight to know what they were doing; to imagine what
it was that should come after them. They did not think of that. Like
the bold, brave, hardy men of all times and of all countries, they did
the work that lay before them, bravely, faithfully, and well, without
any special thought of a distant future; surely without any regrets for
the past. As the years rolled by, sickness, battle, the wild beast,
starvation, murder, death in some form, whether sudden or lingering,
struck them down singly or by scores; and that a man had been “rubbed
out,” was cause for a sigh of regret or a word of sorrow from his
companions, who forthwith saddled up and started on some journey of
peril, where their fate might be what his had been.

At the end of forty years the first series of these exploratory
journeys came to an end. Gold was discovered in California. The Mexican
War took place. This was not unexpected, for in the Southwest, about
the pueblos of Taos and Santa Fé, skirmishings and quarrels between the
Spanish-Indian inhabitants and the rough mountaineers and teamsters
from the States had already given warning of a conflict soon to come.

Now, well travelled wagon roads crossed the continent, and a stream of
westward immigration that seemed to have no end. Before long there came
Indian wars. The immigrants imposed upon the savages, ill-treated their
wives, and were truculent and over-bearing to their men. The Indians
stole from the immigrants, and drove off their horses. Then began a
season of conflict which, by one tribe and another, yet with many
intermissions, lasted almost down to our own day. For the most part,
these Indian wars are well within the memory of living men. They have
been told of by those who saw them and were a part of them.

Of the travellers who marched westward over the arid plains, during the
period which intervened between the return of Lewis and Clark and the
establishment of the old California trail, and of the earlier northmen
who trafficked for the beaver in Canada, a few left records of their
journeys; and of these records many are most interesting reading,
for they are simple, faithful narratives of the every-day life of
travellers through unknown regions. To Americans they are of especial
interest, for they tell of a time when one-half of the continent which
now teems with population had no inhabitants. The acres which now
contribute freely of food that supplies the world; the mountains which
now echo to the rattle of machinery, and the shot of the blasts which
lay bare millions worth of precious metal; the waters which are churned
by propeller blades, transporting all the varied products of the land
to their markets; the forests, which, alas! in too many sections, no
longer rustle to the breeze, but have been swept away to make room for
farms and town sites--all these were then undisturbed and natural, as
they had been for a thousand years. Of the travellers who passed over
the vast stretches of prairie or mountain or woodland, many saw the
possibilities of this vast land, and prophesied as to what might be
wrought here, when, in the dim and distant future, which none could yet
foresee, settlements should have pushed out from the east and occupied
the land. Other travellers declared that these barren wastes would ever
prove a barrier to westward settlement.

The books that were written concerning this new land are mostly long
out of print, or difficult of access; yet each one of them is worth
perusal. Of their authors, some bear names still familiar, even though
their works have been lost sight of. Some of them made discoveries of
great interest in one branch or other of science. At a later day some
attained fame. Parkman’s first essay in literature was his story of
_The California and Oregon Trail_, a fitting introduction to the many
fascinating volumes that he contributed later to the early history of
America; while in Washington Irving, historian and essayist, was found
a narrator who should first tell connectedly of the fur trade of the
Northwest, and the adventures of Bonneville.

Besides the books that were published in those times, there were
also written accounts, usually in the form of diaries, or of notes
kept from day to day of the happenings in the life of this or that
individual, which are full of interest, because they give us pictures
of one or another phase of early travel, or hunting adventures, or of
trading with the Indians. Such private and personal accounts, never
intended for the public eye, are to-day of extreme interest; and it is
fortunate that an American student, the late Dr. Elliott Coues, has
given us volumes which tell the stories of Lewis and Clark, Pike and
Garces, of Jacob Fowler, of Alexander Henry the younger, and of Charles
Larpenteur--contributions to the history of the winning of the greater
West whose value is only now beginning to be appreciated.

The chapters that follow contain much of history which is old, but
which, to the average American, will prove absolutely new. One may
imagine himself very much interested in the old West, familiar with
its history and devoted to its study, but it is not until he has gone
through volume after volume of this ancient literature that he realizes
how greatly his knowledge lacks precision and how much he still has to
learn concerning the country he inhabits.

The work that the early travellers did, and the books they published,
showed to the people of their day the conditions which existed in the
far West, caused its settlement, and led to the slow discovery of its
mineral treasures, and the slower appreciation of its possibilities to
the farmer and stock-raiser. Each of these volumes had its readers, and
of the readers of each we may be sure that a few, or many, attracted by
the graphic descriptions of the new land, determined that they, too,
would push out into it; they, too, would share in the wealth which it
spread out with lavish hand.

It is all so long ago that we who are busy with a thousand modern
interests care little about who contributed to the greatness of the
country which we inhabit and the prosperity which we enjoy. But there
was a day, which men alive may still remember, a day of strong men, of
brave women, hardy pioneers, and true hearts, who ventured forth into
the wilderness, braving many dangers that were real, and many more that
were imaginary and yet to them seemed very real, occupied the land,
broke up the virgin soil, and peopled a wilderness.

How can the men and women of this generation--dwellers in cities, or
in peaceful villages, or on smiling farms--realize what those pioneers
did--how they lived? He must have possessed stern resolution and firm
courage, who, to better the condition of those dearest to him, risked
their comfort--their very lives--on the hazard of a settlement in the
unknown wilderness. The woman who accompanied this man bore an equal
part in the struggle, with devoted helpfulness encouraging him in
his strife with nature or cheering him in defeat. If the school of
self-reliance and hardihood in which their children were reared gave
them little of the lore of books, it built strong characters and made
them worthy successors of courageous parents. We may not comprehend how
long and fierce was the struggle with the elements, with the bristling
forest, with the unbroken soil; how hard and wearing the annoyance
of wild beasts, the anxiety as to climate, the fear of the prowling
savage. Yet the work was done, and to-day, from the Alleghanies to the
Pacific, we behold its results.

Through hard experience these pioneers had come to understand life.
They possessed a due sense of proportion. They saw the things which
were essential; they scorned those which were trivial. If, judged
by certain standards, they were rough and uncouth, if they spoke a
strange tongue, wore odd apparel, and lived narrow lives, they were yet
practising--albeit unconsciously--the virtues--unflinching courage,
sturdy independence and helpfulness to their neighbors--which have made
America what it is.

In the work of travel and exploration in that far West of which we used
to read, the figure which stands out boldest and most heroic of all is
unnamed. Bearded, buckskin-clad, with rough fur cap, or kerchief tied
about his head, wearing powder-horn and ball-pouch, and scalping-knife,
and carrying his trusty Hawkins rifle, the trapper--the _coureur des
bois_--was the man who did the first work in subduing the wild West,
the man who laid the foundations on which its present civilization is
built.

All honor to this nameless hero. We shall meet him often as we follow
the westward trail.




CHAPTER II

ALEXANDER HENRY

I


The fur trade, which occupied many worthy men during the eighteenth and
first half of the nineteenth century, forms a romantic and interesting
part of the early history of our country.

The traders, usually of English and American parentage, associated
themselves with the French voyageurs, or _coureurs des bois_, whom
Masson describes as “those heroes of the prairie and forest, regular
mixtures of good and evil, extravagant by nature, at the same time
grave and gay, cruel and compassionate; as credulous as superstitious,
and always irreligious.” Traders and voyageurs alike suffered every
privation, the cold of winter, the heat of summer, and finally, by
incredible persistence, beat out the path of discovery during all
seasons, until it became a well-worn trail; all to penetrate the great
unknown, which might contain everything that the trader desired. The
man who lived in those times and under those conditions was brave and
enduring without trying to be; he was alert and quick to act, and
unwearying in overcoming obstacles. Viewing him from the present day,
we might call him cruel and without feeling; but in those times men
were taught not to show their feelings. Their lives were given in great
part to surmounting enormous difficulties of travel in unknown regions,
and to establishing trade relations with unknown tribes of Indians,
who often times were not disposed to be friendly. The fur trader was
in constant danger, not only from hostile Indians, but often from
starvation.

Alexander Henry was one of these fur traders. He came upon the scene
just at the close of the French régime. At twenty-one he had joined
Amherst’s army, not as a soldier, but in “a premature attempt to share
in the fur trade of Canada, directly on the conquest of the country.”
Wolfe’s victory at Quebec in the previous year had aroused the English
traders to the opportunity presented of taking over the fur trade which
the French had opened up, and Amherst’s large army was watched with
great interest as it swept away the last remnant of French control.
Henry was well fitted for the life that he intended to pursue, for he
seems to have had knowledge of the trading posts of Albany and New York.

On the 3d day of August, 1761, Henry despatched his canoes from
Montreal to Lachine on an expedition to the regions west of the
Great Lakes. Little did he realize then that he should be gone from
civilization for sixteen years; that he should suffer and want but
survive; should see new and strange peoples, discover rivers and lakes,
build forts, to be used by others who were to follow him, trade with
the natives, and finally return to hear of the capture of Quebec by the
Americans, and then go to France to tell of his adventures.

The route of the expedition was the usual one. Almost immediately
after leaving Lachine they came to the broad stretch of Lake Saint
Louis. At St. Anne’s the men used to go to confession, as the voyageurs
were almost all Catholics, and at the same time offered up their
vows; “for the saint from which this parish derives its name, and to
whom its church is dedicated, is the patroness of the Canadians in
all their travels by water.” “There is still a further custom to be
observed on arriving at Saint-Anne’s,” Henry relates, “which is that of
distributing eight gallons of rum to each canoe for consumption during
the voyage; nor is it less according to custom to drink the whole of
this liquor upon the spot. The saint, therefore, and the priest were
no sooner dismissed than a scene of intoxication began in which my men
surpassed, if possible, the drunken Indian in singing, fighting, and
the display of savage gesture and conceit.”

Continuing up the river, and carrying over many portages, they at last
reached the Ottawa, and soon ascended the Mattawa. Hitherto the French
were the only white men that had been known in this region. Their
relations with the Indians were friendly, and the Indians were well
aware of the enmity existing between the French and the English. In
the Lac des Chats Henry met several canoes of Indians returning from
their winter hunt. They recognized him as an Englishman, and cautioned
him, declaring that the upper Indians would kill him when they saw him,
and said that the Englishmen were crazy to go so far after beaver. The
expedition came at last to Lake Huron, which “lay stretched across
our horizon like an ocean.” It was, perhaps, the largest water Henry
had yet seen, and the prospect was alarming, but the canoes rode with
the ease of a sea-bird, and his fears subsided. Coming to the island
called La Cloche, because “there is here a rock standing on a plain,
which, being struck, rings like a bell,” he found Indians, with whom
he traded, and to whom he gave some rum, and who, recognizing him as
an Englishman, told his men that the Indians at Michilimackinac would
certainly kill him. On the advice of his friend Campion, Henry changed
his garb, assuming the dress usually worn by the Canadians, and,
smearing his face with dirt and grease, believed himself thoroughly
disguised.

Passing the mouth of the river Missisaki, he found the Indians
inhabiting the north side of Lake Superior cultivating corn in small
quantities.

As he went on, the lake before him to the westward seemed to become
less and less broad, and at last he could see the high back of the
island of Michilimackinac, commonly interpreted to mean the great
turtle. He found here a large village of Chippewas, and leaving as soon
as possible, pushed on about two leagues farther to the fort, where
there was a stockade of thirty houses and a church.

For years now Fort Michilimackinac had been a scene of great
activity. Established by Father Marquette, and kept up by succeeding
missionaries, the first men to brave the unknown terrors of the
interior, it was from here in 1731 that the brave and adventurous
Verendryes set out on their long journey to the Forks of the
Saskatchewan, and to the Missouri River.

This was the half-way house for all the westward pushing and eastward
coming traders, and a meeting place for all the tribes living on the
Great Lakes. Here were fur traders, trappers, voyageurs, and Indians,
hurrying to and fro, dressed in motley and picturesque attire. Some
were bringing in furs from long and perilous journeys from the west,
while others were on the eve of departure westward, and others still
were leaving for Montreal. The scene must have been gay and active
almost beyond our powers to imagine. Henry was in the midst of all this
when the word came to him that a band of Chippewas wished to speak with
him; and, however unwillingly, he was obliged to meet them, sixty in
number, headed by Minavavana, their chief. “They walked in single file,
each with a tomahawk in one hand and scalping-knife in the other. Their
bodies were naked from the waist upward, except in a few examples,
where blankets were thrown loosely over the shoulders.” Their faces
were painted with charcoal, their bodies with white clay, and feathers
were tied in the heads of some, and thrust through the noses of others.
Before the opening of the council, the chief held a conference with
Campion, asking how long it was since Henry had left Montreal, and
observing that the English must be brave men and not afraid of death,
since they thus ventured to come fearlessly among their enemies. After
the pipe had been smoked, while Henry “inwardly endured the tortures of
suspense,” the chief addressed him, saying:

“Englishman, our father, the King of France, employed our young men
to make war upon your nation. In this warfare many of them have been
killed; and it is our custom to retaliate, until such time as the
spirits of the slain are satisfied. But the spirits of the slain are
to be satisfied in either of two ways: the first is by the spilling of
the blood of the nation by which they fell; the other, by _covering
the bodies of the dead_, and thus allaying the resentment of their
relations. This is done by making presents.

“Englishman, your King has never sent us any presents, nor entered
into any treaty with us, wherefore he and we are still at war; and,
until he does these things, we must consider that we have no other
father nor friend among the white men than the King of France; but,
for you, we have taken into consideration that you have ventured your
life among us, in the expectation that we should not molest you. You
do not come armed, with an intention to make war; you come in peace,
to trade with us, and supply us with necessaries, of which we are in
much want. We shall regard you, therefore, as a brother, and you may
sleep tranquilly, without fear of the Chippewas. As a token of our
friendship, we present you with this pipe to smoke.”

In reply, Henry told them that their late father, the King of France,
had surrendered Canada to the King of England, whom they should now
regard as their father, and that he, Henry, had come to furnish them
with what they needed. Things were thus very satisfactory, and when the
Chippewas went away they were given a small quantity of rum.

Henry was now busily at work assorting his goods, preparatory to
starting on his expedition, when two hundred Ottawas entered the fort
and demanded speech with him. They insisted that he should give credit
to every one of their young men to the amount of fifty beaver skins,
but as this demand would have stripped him of all his merchandise, he
refused to comply with the request. What the Ottawas might have done
is uncertain. They did nothing, because that very day word was brought
that a detachment of English soldiers, sent to garrison the fort, was
distant only five miles, and would be there the next day. At daybreak
the Ottawas were seen preparing to depart, and by sunrise not one of
them was left in the fort.

Although it was now the middle of September, the traders sent off
their canoes on the different trading expeditions. These canoes were
victualled largely with Indian corn at the neighboring village of
L’Arbre Croche, occupied by the Ottawas. This corn was prepared for use
by boiling it in a strong lye which removed the husk, after which it
was pounded and dried, making a meal. “The allowance for each man on
the voyage is a quart a day, and a bushel, with two pounds of prepared
fat, is reckoned to be a month’s subsistence. No other allowance is
made of any kind, not even of salt, and bread is never thought of. The
men, nevertheless, are healthy, and capable of performing their heavy
labor. This mode of victualling is essential to the trade, which, being
pursued at great distances, and in vessels so small as canoes, will
not admit of the use of other food. If the men were to be supplied
with bread and pork, the canoes could not carry a sufficiency for
six months; and the ordinary duration of the voyage is not less than
fourteen.”

The food of the garrison consisted largely of small game, partridges
and hares, and of fish, especially trout, whitefish, and sturgeon.
Trout were caught with set lines and bait, and whitefish with nets
under the ice. Should this fishery fail, it was necessary to purchase
grain, which, however, was very expensive, costing forty livres, or
forty shillings, Canadian currency; though there was no money in
Michilimackinac, and the circulating medium consisted solely of furs.
A pound of beaver was worth about sixty cents, an otter skin six
shillings Canadian, and marten skins about thirty cents each.

Having wintered at Michilimackinac, Henry set out in May for the Sault
de Sainte-Marie. Here there was a stockaded fort, with four houses,
one of which was occupied by Monsieur Cadotte, the interpreter, and
his Chippewa wife. The Indians had an important whitefish fishery
at the rapids, taking the fish in dip nets. In the autumn Henry and
the other whites did much fishing; and in the winter they hunted,
and took large trout with the spear through the ice in this way: “In
order to spear trout under the ice, holes being first cut of two yards
in circumference, cabins of about two feet in height are built over
them of small branches of trees; and these are further covered with
skins so as to wholly exclude the light. The design and result of this
contrivance is to render it practicable to discern objects in the water
at a very considerable depth; for the reflection of light from the
water gives that element an opaque appearance, and hides all objects
from the eye at a small distance beneath its surface. A spear head of
iron is fastened on a pole of about ten feet in length. This instrument
is lowered into the water, and the fisherman, lying upon his belly,
with his head under the cabin or cover, and therefore over the hole,
lets down the figure of a fish in wood and filled with lead. Round the
middle of the fish is tied a small pack thread, and, when at the depth
of ten fathoms, where it is intended to be employed, it is made, by
drawing the string and by the simultaneous pressure of the water, to
move forward, after the manner of a real fish. Trout and other large
fish, deceived by its resemblance, spring toward it to seize it, but,
by a dexterous jerk of the string, it is instantly taken out of their
reach. The decoy is now drawn nearer to the surface, and the fish takes
some time to renew the attack, during which the spear is raised and
held conveniently for striking. On the return of the fish, the spear is
plunged into its back, and, the spear being barbed, it is easily drawn
out of the water. So completely do the rays of the light pervade the
element that in three-fathom water I have often seen the shadows of the
fish on the bottom, following them as they moved; and this when the ice
itself was two feet in thickness.”

The burning of the post at the Sault forced all hands to return next
winter to Michilimackinac, where the early spring was devoted to
the manufacture of maple sugar, an important article of diet in the
northern country.

That spring Indians gathered about the fort in such large numbers as
to make Henry fearful that something unusual lay behind the concourse.
He spoke about it to the commanding officer, who laughed at him for
his timidity. The Indians seemed to be passing to and fro in the most
friendly manner, selling their fur and attending to their business
altogether in a natural way.

About a year before an Indian named Wawatam had come into Henry’s
house, expressed a strong liking for him, and, having explained that
years before, after a fast, he had dreamed of adopting an Englishman
as his son, brother, and friend, told Henry that in him he recognized
the person whom the Great Spirit had pointed out to him for a brother,
and that he hoped Henry would become one of his family, and at the
same time he made him a large present. Henry accepted these friendly
overtures, and made a handsome present in return, and the two parted
for the time.

Henry had almost forgotten his brother, when, on the second day of
June, twelve months later, Wawatam again came to his house and
expressed great regret that Henry had returned from the Sault. Wawatam
stated that he intended to go there at once, and begged Henry to
accompany him. He asked, also, whether the commandant had heard bad
news, saying that during the winter he himself had been much disturbed
by the noises of evil birds, and that there were many Indians around
the fort who had never shown themselves within it. Both the chief and
his wife strove earnestly to persuade Henry to accompany them at once,
but he paid little attention to their requests, and they finally took
their departure, very much depressed--in fact, even weeping. The next
day Henry received from a Chippewa an invitation to come out and see
the great game of baggatiway, or lacrosse, which his people were going
to play that day with the Sacs. But as a canoe was about to start
for Montreal, Henry was busy writing letters, and although urged by
a friend to go out and meet another canoe just arrived from Detroit,
he nevertheless remained in his room, writing. Suddenly he heard the
Indian war-cry, and, looking out of the window, saw a crowd of Indians
within the fort furiously cutting down and scalping every Englishman
they found. He noticed, too, many of the Canadian inhabitants of
the fort quietly looking on, neither trying to stop the Indians nor
suffering injury from them; and from the fact that these people were
not being attacked, he conceived the hope of finding security in one of
their houses. This is as he tells it:

“Between the yard-door of my own house and that of M. Langlade, my
next neighbor, there was only a low fence, over which I easily climbed.
At my entrance I found the whole family at the windows, gazing at
the scene of blood before them. I addressed myself immediately to M.
Langlade, begging that he would put me into some place of safety until
the heat of the affair should be over, an act of charity by which he
might perhaps preserve me from the general massacre; but, while I
uttered my petition, M. Langlade, who had looked for a moment at me,
turned again to the window, shrugging his shoulders and intimating that
he could do nothing for me--‘_Que voudriez-vous que j’en ferais?_’

“This was a moment for despair; but the next a Pani woman, a slave of
M. Langlade’s, beckoned to me to follow her. She brought me to a door,
which she opened, desiring me to enter, and telling me that it led to
the garret, where I must go and conceal myself. I joyfully obeyed her
directions and she, having followed me up to the garret door, locked it
after me, and with great presence of mind took away the key.

“This shelter obtained, if shelter I could hope to find it, I was
naturally anxious to know what might still be passing without. Through
an aperture which afforded me a view of the area of the fort, I beheld,
in shapes the foulest and most terrible, the ferocious triumphs of
barbarian conquerors. The dead were scalped and mangled; the dying
were writhing and shrieking under the unsatiated knife and tomahawk,
and, from the bodies of some ripped open, their butchers were drinking
the blood, scooped up in the hollow of joined hands and quaffed amid
shouts of rage and victory. I was shaken, not only with horror, but
with fear. The sufferings which I witnessed, I seemed on the point of
experiencing. No long time elapsed before every one being destroyed who
could be found, there was a general cry of ‘All is finished!’ At the
same instant I heard some of the Indians enter the house in which I was.

“The garret was separated from the room below only by a layer of single
boards, at once the flooring of the one and the ceiling of the other.
I could therefore hear everything that passed; and, the Indians no
sooner in than they inquired whether or not any Englishmen were in the
house? M. Langlade replied that ‘He could not say--he did not know of
any’--answers in which he did not exceed the truth, for the Pani woman
had not only hidden me by stealth, but had kept my secret and her own;
M. Langlade was therefore, as I presume, as far from a wish to destroy
me as he was careless about saving me, when he added to these answers
that ‘They might examine for themselves, and would soon be satisfied as
to the object of their question.’ Saying this, he brought them to the
garret door.

“The state of my mind will be imagined. Arrived at the door, some delay
was occasioned by the absence of the key, and a few moments were thus
allowed me in which to look around for a hiding place. In one corner
of the garret was a heap of vessels of birch-bark, used in maple-sugar
making.

“The door was unlocked, and opening, and the Indians ascending the
stairs, before I had completely crept into a small opening which
presented itself at one end of the heap. An instant after four Indians
entered the room, all armed with tomahawks, and all besmeared with
blood upon every part of their bodies.

“The die appeared to be cast. I could scarcely breathe: but I thought
that the throbbing of my heart occasioned a noise loud enough to
betray me. The Indians walked in every direction about the garret,
and one of them approached me so closely that at a particular moment,
had he put forth his hand, he must have touched me. Still, I remained
undiscovered, a circumstance to which the dark color of my clothes and
the want of light, in a room which had no window, and in the corner in
which I was, must have contributed. In a word, after taking several
turns in the room, during which they told M. Langlade how many they had
killed and how many scalps they had taken, they returned down-stairs,
and I with sensations not to be expressed heard the door, which was the
barrier between me and fate, locked for the second time.

“There was a feather bed on the floor, and on this, exhausted as I was
by the agitation of my mind, I threw myself down and fell asleep. In
this state I remained till the dusk of the evening, when I was awakened
by a second opening of the door. The person that now entered was M.
Langlade’s wife, who was much surprised at finding me, but advised me
not to be uneasy, observing that the Indians had killed most of the
English, but that she hoped I might myself escape. A shower of rain
having begun to fall, she had come to stop a hole in the roof. On her
going away, I begged her to send me a little water to drink, which she
did.

“As night was now advancing, I continued to lie on the bed, ruminating
on my condition but unable to discover a resource from which I could
hope for life. A flight to Detroit had no probable chance of success.
The distance from Michilimackinac was four hundred miles; I was without
provisions, and the whole length of the road lay through Indian
countries, countries of an enemy in arms, where the first man whom I
should meet would kill me. To stay where I was threatened nearly the
same issue. As before, fatigue of mind and not tranquillity, suspended
my cares and procured me further sleep....

“The respite which sleep afforded me during the night was put an end
to by the return of morning. I was again on the rack of apprehension.
At sunrise I heard the family stirring, and, presently after, Indian
voices, informing M. Langlade that they had not found my hapless
self among the dead, and that they supposed me to be somewhere
concealed. M. Langlade appeared, from what followed, to be by this
time acquainted with the place of my retreat, of which, no doubt, he
had been informed by his wife. The poor woman, as soon as the Indians
mentioned me, declared to her husband, in the French tongue, that
he should no longer keep me in his house, but deliver me up to my
pursuers; giving as a reason for this measure that should the Indians
discover his instrumentality in my concealment they might revenge it
on her children, and that it was better that I should die than they.
M. Langlade resisted at first this sentence of his wife’s; but soon
suffered her to prevail, informing the Indians that he had been told I
was in his house; that I had come there without his knowledge, and that
he would put me into their hands. This was no sooner expressed than he
began to ascend the stairs, the Indians following upon his heels.

“I now resigned myself to the fate with which I was menaced; and
regarding every attempt at concealment as vain, I arose from the bed
and presented myself full in view to the Indians who were entering the
room. They were all in a state of intoxication, and entirely naked,
except about the middle. One of them, named Wenniway, whom I had
previously known and who was upward of six feet in height, had his
entire face and body covered with charcoal and grease, only that a
white spot of two inches in diameter encircled either eye. This man,
walking up to me, seized me with one hand by the collar of the coat,
while in the other he held a large carving knife, as if to plunge it
into my breast; his eyes, meanwhile, were fixed steadfastly on mine.
At length, after some seconds of the most anxious suspense he dropped
his arm, saying, ‘I won’t kill you!’ To this he added that he had been
frequently engaged in wars against the English, and had brought away
many scalps; that, on a certain occasion, he had lost a brother, whose
name was Musingon, and that I should be called after him.”

[Illustration: “I NOW RESIGNED MYSELF TO THE FATE WITH WHICH I WAS
MENACED.”]

Several times within the next two or three days Henry had narrow
escapes from death at the hands of drunken Indians; but finally his
captors, having stripped him of all his clothing save an old shirt,
took him, with other prisoners, and set out for the Isles du Castor, in
Lake Michigan.

At the village of L’Arbre Croche, the Ottawas forcibly took away their
prisoners from the Chippewas, but the Chippewas made violent complaint,
while the Ottawas explained to the prisoners that they had taken
them from the Chippewas to save their lives, it being the practice
of the Chippewas to eat their enemies, in order to give them courage
in battle. A council was held between the Chippewas and Ottawas, the
result of which was that the prisoners were handed over to their
original captors. But before they had left this place, while Henry was
sitting in the lodge with his captor, his friend and brother, Wawatam,
suddenly entered. As he passed Henry he shook hands with him, but went
toward the great chief, by whom he sat down, and after smoking, rose
again and left the lodge, saying to Henry as he passed him, “Take
courage.”

A little later, Wawatam and his wife entered the lodge, bringing large
presents, which they threw down before the chiefs. Wawatam explained
that Henry was his brother, and therefore a relative to the whole
tribe, and asked that he be turned over to him, which was done.

Henry now went with Wawatam to his lodge, and thereafter lived with
him. The Indians were very much afraid that the English would send
to revenge the killing of their troops, and they shortly moved to
the Island of Michilimackinac. A little later a brigade of canoes,
containing goods and abundant liquor, was captured: and Wawatam,
fearing the results of the drink on the Indians, took Henry away and
concealed him in a cave, where he remained for two days.

The head chief of the village of Michilimackinac now recommended to
Wawatam and Henry that, on account of the frequent arrival of Indians
from Montreal, some of whom had lost relatives or friends in the war,
Henry should be dressed like an Indian, and the wisdom of this advice
was recognized. His hair was cut off, his head shaved, except for a
scalp-lock, his face painted, and Indian clothing given him. Wawatam
helped him to visit Michilimackinac, where Henry found one of his
clerks, but none of his property. Soon after this they moved away to
Wawatam’s wintering ground, which Henry was very willing to visit,
because in the main camp he was constantly subjected to insults from
the Indians who knew of his race.

Henry writes fully of the customs of the Indians, of the habits of many
of the animals which they pursued, and of the life he led. He says
that during this winter “Raccoon hunting was my more particular and
daily employ. I usually went out at the first dawn of day, and seldom
returned till sunset, or till I had laden myself with as many animals
as I could carry. By degrees I became familiarized with this kind of
life; and had it not been for the idea, of which I could not divest
my mind, that I was living among savages, and for the whispers of a
lingering hope that I should one day be released from it, or if I could
have forgotten that I had ever been otherwise than as I then was, I
could have enjoyed as much happiness in this as in any other situation.”

Among the interesting hunting occurrences narrated is one of the
killing of a bear, and of the ceremonies subsequent to this killing
performed by the Indians. He says:

“In the course of the month of January I happened to observe that the
trunk of a very large pine tree was much torn by the claws of a bear,
made both in going up and down. On further examination, I saw that
there was a large opening in the upper part, near which the smaller
branches were broken. From these marks, and from the additional
circumstance that there were no tracks in the snow, there was reason to
believe that a bear lay concealed in the tree.

“On returning to the lodge, I communicated my discovery, and it was
agreed that all the family should go together in the morning to assist
in cutting down the tree, the girth of which was not less than three
fathom. Accordingly, in the morning we surrounded the tree, both men
and women, as many at a time as could conveniently work at it, and here
we toiled like beaver till the sun went down. This day’s work carried
us about half way through the trunk; and the next morning we renewed
the attack, continuing it till about two o’clock in the afternoon, when
the tree fell to the ground. For a few minutes everything remained
quiet, and I feared that all our expectations were disappointed; but,
as I advanced to the opening, there came out, to the great satisfaction
of all our party, a bear of extraordinary size, which, before she had
proceeded many yards, I shot.

“The bear being dead, all my assistants approached, and all, but more
particularly my old mother (as I was wont to call her), took her head
in their hands, stroking and kissing it several times, begging a
thousand pardons for taking away her life; calling her their relation
and grandmother, and requesting her not to lay the fault upon them,
since it was truly an Englishman that had put her to death.

“This ceremony was not of long duration, and if it was I that killed
their grandmother, they were not themselves behindhand in what remained
to be performed. The skin being taken off, we found the fat in several
places six inches deep. This, being divided into two parts, loaded two
persons, and the flesh parts were as much as four persons could carry.
In all, the carcass must have exceeded five hundredweight.

“As soon as we reached the lodge, the bear’s head was adorned with all
the trinkets in the possession of the family, such as silver arm-bands
and wrist-bands, and belts of wampum, and then laid upon a scaffold set
up for its reception within the lodge. Near the nose was placed a large
quantity of tobacco.

“The next morning no sooner appeared than preparations were made for
a feast to the manes. The lodge was cleaned and swept, and the head
of the bear lifted up and a new stroud blanket, which had never been
used before, spread under it. The pipes were now lit, and Wawatam blew
tobacco smoke into the nostrils of the bear, telling me to do the
same, and thus appease the anger of the bear on account of my having
killed her. I endeavored to persuade my benefactor and friendly adviser
that she no longer had any life, and assured him that I was under no
apprehension from her displeasure; but the first proposition obtained
no credit, and the second gave but little satisfaction.

“At length, the feast being ready, Wawatam commenced a speech,
resembling, in many things, his address to the manes of his relations
and departed companions, but having this peculiarity, that he here
deplored the necessity under which men labored thus to destroy their
friends. He represented, however, that the misfortune was unavoidable,
since without doing so they could by no means subsist. The speech
ended, we all ate heartily of the bear’s flesh, and even the head
itself, after remaining three days on the scaffold, was put into the
kettle.

“It is only the female bear that makes her winter lodging in the upper
parts of trees, a practice by which her young are secured from the
attacks of wolves and other animals. She brings forth in the winter
season, and remains in her lodge till the cubs have gained some
strength.

“The male always lodges in the ground, under the roots of trees. He
takes to this habitation as soon as the snow falls, and remains there
till it has disappeared. The Indians remark that the bear comes out in
the spring with the same fat which he carried in in the autumn; but,
after exercise of only a few days, becomes lean. Excepting for a short
part of the season, the male lives constantly alone.

“The fat of our bear was melted down, and the oil filled six porcupine
skins. A part of the meat was cut into strips and fire-dried, after
which it was put into the vessels containing the oil, where it remained
in perfect preservation until the middle of summer.”

When spring came, and they returned to the more travelled routes and
met other Indians, it was seen that these people were all anxious lest
the English should this summer avenge the outbreak of the Indians of
the previous year. Henry was exceedingly anxious to escape from his
present life, and his brother was willing that he should go, but this
appeared difficult. At last, however, a Canadian canoe, carrying Madame
Cadotte, came along, and this good woman was willing to assist Henry so
far as she could. He and his brother parted rather sadly, and Henry,
now under the guise of a Canadian, took a paddle in Madame Cadotte’s
canoe. She took him safely to the Sault, where he was welcomed by
Monsieur Cadotte, whose great influence among the Indians was easily
sufficient to protect him. Soon after this there came an embassy
from Sir William Johnson, calling the Indians to come to Niagara and
make peace with the English; and after consulting the Great Turtle,
who was the guardian spirit of the Chippewas, a number of young men
volunteered to go to Niagara, and among them Henry.

After a long voyage they reached Niagara, where Henry was very kindly
received by Sir William Johnson and subsequently was appointed by
General Bradstreet, commander of an Indian battalion of ninety-six men,
among whom were many of the Indians who, not long before, had been
ready and eager to kill him. With this command he moved westward, and
after peace had been made with Pontiac at Detroit, with a detachment
of troops reached Michilimackinac, where he recovered a part of his
property.




CHAPTER III

ALEXANDER HENRY

II


The French Government had established regulations governing the fur
trade in Canada, and in 1765, when Henry made his second expedition,
some features of the old system were still preserved. No person was
permitted to enter the countries lying north-west of Detroit unless
furnished with a license, and military commanders had the privilege of
granting to any individual the exclusive trade of particular districts.

At this time beaver were worth two shillings and sixpence per pound;
otter skins, six shillings each; martens, one shilling and sixpence;
all this in nominal Michilimackinac currency, although here fur was
still the current coin. Henry loaded his four canoes with the value
of ten thousand pounds’ weight of good and merchantable beaver. For
provision he purchased fifty bushels of corn, at ten pounds of beaver
per bushel. He took into partnership Monsieur Cadotte, and leaving
Michilimackinac July 14, and Sault Sainte-Marie the 26th, he proceeded
to his wintering ground at Chagouemig. On the 19th of August he reached
the river Ontonagan, notable for its abundance of native copper,
which the Indians used to manufacture into spoons and bracelets for
themselves. This they did by the mere process of hammering it out.
Not far beyond this river he met Indians, to whom he gave credit.
“The prices were for a stroud blanket, ten beaver skins; for a white
blanket, eight; a pound of powder, two; a pound of shot or of ball,
one; a gun, twenty; an axe of one pound weight, two; a knife, one.” As
the value of a skin was about one dollar, the prices to the Indians
were fairly high.

Chagouemig, where Henry wintered, is now known as Chequamegon. It is in
Wisconsin, a bay which partly divides Bayfield from Ashland county, and
seems always to have been a great gathering place for Indians. There
were now about fifty lodges here, making, with those who had followed
Henry, about one hundred families. All were poor, their trade having
been interfered with by the English invasion of Canada and by Pontiac’s
war. Henry was obliged to distribute goods to them to the amount of
three thousand beaver skins, and this done, the Indians separated to
look for fur. Henry sent a clerk to Fond du Lac with two loaded canoes;
Fond du Lac being, roughly, the site of the present city of Duluth.
As soon as Henry was fairly settled, he built a house, and began to
collect fish from the lake as food for the winter. Before long he had
two thousand trout and whitefish, the former frequently weighing fifty
pounds each, the latter from four to six. They were preserved by
being hung up by the tail and did not thaw during the winter. When the
bay froze over, Henry amused himself by spearing trout, and sometimes
caught a hundred in a day, each weighing on an average twenty pounds.

He had some difficulty with the first hunting party which brought furs.
The men crowded into his house and demanded rum, and when he refused
it, they threatened to take all he had. His men were frightened and all
abandoned him. He got hold of a gun, however, and on threatening to
shoot the first who should lay hands on anything, the disturbance began
to subside and was presently at an end. He now buried the liquor that
he had, and when the Indians were finally persuaded that he had none to
give them, they went and came very peaceably, paying their debts and
purchasing goods.

The ice broke up in April, and by the middle of May the Indians began
to come in with their furs, so that by the close of the spring Henry
found himself with a hundred and fifty packs of beaver, weighing a
hundred pounds each, besides twenty-five packs of otter and marten
skins. These he took to Michilimackinac, accompanied by fifty canoes
of Indians, who still had a hundred packs of beaver that they did not
sell. It appears, therefore, that Henry’s ten thousand pounds of beaver
brought him fifty per cent. profit in beaver, besides the otter and the
marten skins which he had.

On his way back he went up the Ontonagan River to see the celebrated
mass of copper there, which he estimated to weigh no less than five
tons. So pure was it that with an axe he chopped off a piece weighing
a hundred pounds. This great mass of copper, which had been worked at
for no one knows how long by Indians and by early explorers, lay there
for eighty years after Henry saw it; and finally, in 1843, was removed
to the Smithsonian Institution at Washington. It was then estimated to
weigh between three and four tons, and the cost of transporting it to
the national capital was about $3,500.

The following winter was passed at Sault Sainte-Marie, and was rather
an unhappy one, as the fishery failed, and there was great suffering
from hunger. Canadians and Indians gathered there from the surrounding
country, driven in by lack of food. Among the incidents of the winter
was the arrival of a young man who had been guilty of cannibalism. He
was killed by the Indians, not so much as punishment, as from the fear
that he would kill and eat some of their children.

A journey to a neighboring bay resulted in no great catch of fish, and
returning to the Sault, Henry started for Michilimackinac. At the first
encampment, an hour’s fishing procured them seven trout, of from ten to
twenty pounds’ weight. A little later they met a camp of Indians who
had fish, and shared with them; and the following day Henry killed a
caribou, by which they camped and on which they subsisted for two days.

The following winter Henry stopped at Michipicoten, on the north side
of Lake Superior, and about a hundred and fifty miles from the Sault.
Here there were a few people known as _Gens des Terres_, a tribe of
Algonquins, living in middle Canada, and ranging from the Athabasca
country east to Lake Temiscamingue. A few of them still live near the
St. Maurice River, in the Province of Quebec. These people, though
miserably poor, and occupying a country containing very few animals,
had a high reputation for honesty and worth. Therefore, Henry gave
to every man credit for one hundred beaver skins, and to every woman
thirty--a very large credit.

There was some game in this country, a few caribou, and some hares and
partridges. The hills were well wooded with sugar-maples, and from
these, when spring came, Henry made sugar; and for a time this was
their sole provision, each man consuming a pound a day, desiring no
other food, and being visibly nourished by the sugar. Soon after this,
wildfowl appeared in such abundance that subsistence for fifty could
without difficulty be shot daily by one man, but this lasted only for
a week, by which time the birds all departed. By the end of May all to
whom Henry had advanced goods returned, and of the two thousand skins
for which he had given them credit, not thirty remained unpaid. The
small loss that he did suffer was occasioned by the death of one of the
Indians, whose family brought all the skins of which he died possessed,
and offered to contribute among themselves the balance.

The following winter was also to be passed at Michipicoten, and in the
month of October, after all the Indians had received their goods and
had gone away, Henry set out for the Sault on a visit. He took little
provision, only a quart of corn for each person.

On the first night they camped on an island sacred to Nanibojou, one
of the Chippewa gods, and failed to offer the tobacco which an Indian
would always have presented to the spirit. In the night a violent storm
arose which continued for three days. When it abated on the third day
they went to examine the net which they had set for fish, and found it
gone. The wind was ahead to return to Michipicoten, and they steered
for the Sault; but that night the wind shifted and blew a gale for nine
days following. They soon began to starve, and though Henry hunted
faithfully, he killed nothing more than two snowbirds. One of his men
informed him that the other two had proposed to kill and eat a young
woman, whom they were taking to the Sault, and when taxed with the
proposition, these two men had the hardihood to acknowledge it. The
next morning, Henry, still searching for food, found on a rock the
_tripe de roche_, a lichen, which, when cooked, yields a jelly which
will support life. The discovery of this food, on which they supported
themselves thereafter, undoubtedly saved the life of the poor woman.
When they embarked on the evening of the ninth day they were weak
and miserable; but, luckily, the next morning, meeting two canoes of
Indians, they received a gift of fish, and at once landed to feast on
them.

In the spring of 1769, and for some years afterward, Henry turned his
attention more or less to mines. He visited the Ile de Maurepas,
said to contain shining rocks and stones of rare description, but was
much disappointed in the island, which seemed commonplace enough. A
year later Mr. Baxter, with whom Henry had formed a partnership for
copper mining, returned, and during the following winter, at Sault
Sainte-Marie, they built vessels for navigating the lakes. Henry
had heard of an island (Caribou Island) in Lake Superior described
as covered with a heavy yellow sand like gold-dust, and guarded by
enormous snakes. With Mr. Baxter he searched for this island and
finally found it, but neither yellow sands nor snakes nor gold. Hawks
there were in abundance, and one of them picked Henry’s cap from his
head. There were also caribou, and they killed thirteen, and found many
complete and undisturbed skeletons. Continuing their investigations
into the mines about the lakes, they found abundant copper ore, and
some supposed to contain silver. But their final conclusion was that
the cost of carrying the copper ore to Montreal must exceed its
marketable value.

In June, 1775, Henry left Sault Sainte-Marie with four large canoes
and twelve small ones, carrying goods and provisions to the value of
three thousand pounds sterling. He passed west, over the Grand Portage,
entered Lac à la Pluie, passed down to the Lake of the Woods, and
finally reached Lake Winipegon. Here there were Crees, variously known
as Christinaux, Kinistineaux, Killistinoes, and Killistinaux. Lake
Winipegon is sometimes called the Lake of the Crees. These people were
primitive. Almost entirely naked, the whole body was painted with red
ochre; the head was wholly shaved, or the hair was plucked out, except
a spot on the crown, where it grew long and was rolled and gathered
into a tuft; the ears were pierced, and filled with bones of fishes
and land animals. The women, on the other hand, had long hair, which
was gathered into a roll on either side of the head above the ear, and
was covered with a piece of skin, painted or ornamented with beads of
various colors. The traditions of the Cheyennes of to-day point back
to precisely similar methods of dressing the hair of the women and of
painting the men.

The Crees were friendly, and gave the traveller presents of wild
rice and dried meat. He kept on along the lake and soon joined Peter
Pond, a well-known trader of early days. A little later, in early
September, the two Frobishers and Mr. Patterson overtook them. On the
1st of October they reached the River de Bourbon, now known as the
Saskatchewan, and proceeded up it, using the tow-line to overcome the
Great Rapids. They passed on into Lake de Bourbon, now Cedar Lake, and
by old Fort Bourbon, built by the Sieur de Vérendrye. At the mouth of
the Pasquayah River they found a village of Swampy Crees, the chief of
whom expressed his gratification at their coming, but remarked that,
as it would be possible for him to kill them all when they returned,
he expected them to be extremely liberal with their presents. He
then specified what it was that he desired, namely, three casks of
gunpowder, four bags of shot and ball, two bales of tobacco, three
kegs of rum, and three guns, together with many smaller articles.
Finally he declared that he was a peaceable man, and always tried to
get along without quarrels. The traders were obliged to submit to
being thus robbed, and passed on up the river to Cumberland House.
Here they separated, M. Cadotte going on with four canoes to the Fort
des Prairies, a name given then and later to many of the trading posts
built on the prairie. This one is probably that Fort des Prairies which
was situated just below the junction of the north and south forks of
the Saskatchewan River, and was known as Fort Nippewen. Mr. Pond, with
two canoes, went to Fort Dauphin, on Lake Dauphin, while the Messrs.
Frobisher and Henry agreed to winter together on Beaver Lake. Here they
found a good place for a post, and were soon well lodged. Fish were
abundant, and the post soon assumed the appearance of a settlement.
Owing to the lateness of the season, their canoes could not be buried
in the ground, as was the common practice, and they were therefore
placed on scaffolds. The fishing here was very successful, and moose
were killed. The Indians brought in beaver and bear’s meat, and some
skins for sale.

In January, 1776, Henry left the fort on Beaver Lake, attended by two
men, and provided with dried meat, frozen fish, and cornmeal, to make
an excursion over the plains, “or, as the French denominate them, the
Prairies, or Meadows.” There was snow on the ground, and the baggage
was hauled by the men on sledges. The cold was bitter, but they were
provided with “ox skins, which the traders call buffalo robes.”

Beaver Lake was in the wooded country, and, indeed, all Henry’s
journeyings hitherto had been through a region that was timbered; but
here, striking south and west, by way of Cumberland House, he says, “I
was not far advanced before the country betrayed some approaches to the
characteristic nakedness of the plains. The wood dwindled away, both
in size and quantity, so that it was with difficulty we could collect
sufficient for making a fire, and without fire we could not drink,
for melted snow was our only resource, the ice on the river being too
thick to be penetrated by the axe.” Moreover, the weather was bitterly
cold, and after a time provisions grew scanty. No game was seen and no
trace of anything human. The men began to starve and to grow weak, but
as tracks of elk and moose were seen, Henry cheered them up by telling
them that they would certainly kill something before long.

“On the twentieth, the last remains of our provisions were expended;
but I had taken the precaution to conceal a cake of chocolate in
reserve for an occasion like that which was now arrived. Toward evening
my men, after walking the whole day, began to lose their strength, but
we nevertheless kept on our feet till it was late, and when we encamped
I informed them of the treasure which was still in store. I desired
them to fill the kettle with snow, and argued with them the while that
the chocolate would keep us alive for five days at least, an interval
in which we should surely meet with some Indian at the chase. Their
spirits revived at the suggestion, and, the kettle being filled with
two gallons of water, I put into it one square of the chocolate. The
quantity was scarcely sufficient to alter the color of the water, but
each of us drank half a gallon of the warm liquor, by which we were
much refreshed, and in its enjoyment felt no more of the fatigues of
the day. In the morning we allowed ourselves a similar repast, after
finishing which we marched vigorously for six hours. But now the
spirits of my companions again deserted them, and they declared that
they neither would, nor could, proceed any further. For myself, they
advised me to leave them, and accomplish the journey as I could; but
for themselves, they said, that they must die soon, and might as well
die where they were as anywhere else.

“While things were in this melancholy posture, I filled the kettle and
boiled another square of chocolate. When prepared I prevailed upon my
desponding companions to return to their warm beverage. On taking it
they recovered inconceivably, and, after smoking a pipe, consented to
go forward. While their stomachs were comforted by the warm water they
walked well, but as evening approached fatigue overcame them, and they
relapsed into their former condition, and, the chocolate being now
almost entirely consumed, I began to fear that I must really abandon
them, for I was able to endure more hardship than they, and, had it
not been for keeping company with them, I could have advanced double
the distance within the time which had been spent. To my great joy,
however, the usual quantity of warm water revived them.

“For breakfast the next morning I put the last square of chocolate into
the kettle, and, our meal finished, we began our march in but very
indifferent spirits. We were surrounded by large herds of wolves which
sometimes came close upon us, and who knew, as we were prone to think,
the extremity in which we were, and marked us for their prey; but I
carried a gun, and this was our protection. I fired several times, but
unfortunately missed at each, for a morsel of wolf’s flesh would have
afforded us a banquet.

“Our misery, nevertheless, was still nearer its end than we imagined,
and the event was such as to give one of the innumerable proofs that
despair is not made for man. Before sunset we discovered on the ice
some remains of the bones of an elk left there by the wolves. Having
instantly gathered them, we encamped, and, filling our kettle, prepared
ourselves a meal of strong and excellent soup. The greater part of the
night was passed in boiling and regaling on our booty, and early in the
morning we felt ourselves strong enough to proceed.

“This day, the twenty-fifth, we found the borders of the plains
reaching to the very banks of the river, which were two hundred feet
above the level of the ice. Water marks presented themselves at twenty
feet above the actual level.

“Want had lost his dominion over us. At noon we saw the horns of
a red deer [an elk or wapiti] standing in the snow on the river.
On examination we found that the whole carcass was with them, the
animal having broke through the ice in the beginning of the winter in
attempting to cross the river too early in the season, while his horns,
fastening themselves in the ice, had prevented him from sinking. By
cutting away the ice we were enabled to lay bare a part of the back and
shoulders, and thus procure a stock of food amply sufficient for the
rest of our journey. We accordingly encamped and employed our kettle
to good purpose, forgot all our misfortunes, and prepared to walk
with cheerfulness the twenty leagues which, as we reckoned, still lay
between ourselves and Fort des Prairies.

“Though the deer must have been in this situation ever since the month
of November, yet its flesh was perfectly good. Its horns alone were
five foot high or more, and it will therefore not appear extraordinary
that they should be seen above the snow.

“On the twenty-seventh, in the morning, we discovered the print of
snow-shoes, demonstrating that several persons had passed that way the
day before. These were the first marks of other human feet than our own
which we had seen since our leaving Cumberland House, and it was much
to feel that we had fellow-creatures in the wide waste surrounding us.
In the evening we reached the fort.”

At Fort des Prairies, Henry saw more provisions than he had ever before
dreamed of. In one heap he saw fifty tons of buffalo meat, so fat that
the men could hardly find meat lean enough to eat. Immediately south
of this plains country, which he was on the edge of, was the land of
the Osinipoilles [Assiniboines, a tribe of the Dakota or Sioux nation],
and some of these people being at the fort, Henry determined to visit
them at their village, and on the 5th of February set out to do so. The
Indians whom they accompanied carried their baggage on dog travois.
They used snow-shoes and travelled swiftly, and at night camped in the
shelter of a little grove of wood. There were fourteen people in the
tent in which Henry slept that night, but these were not enough to keep
each other warm. They started each morning at daylight, and travelled
as long as they could, and over snow that was often four feet deep.
During the journey they saw buffalo, which Henry calls wild oxen, but
did not disturb them, as they had no time to do so, and no means of
carrying the flesh if they had killed any. One night they met two young
men who had come out to meet the party. They had not known that there
were white men with it, and announced that they must return to advise
the chief of this; but before they could start, a storm came up which
prevented their departure. All that night and part of the next day the
wind blew fiercely, with drifting snow. “In the morning we were alarmed
by the approach of a herd of oxen, who came from the open ground to
shelter themselves in the wood. Their numbers were so great that we
dreaded lest they should fairly trample down the camp; nor could it
have happened otherwise but for the dogs, almost as numerous as they,
who were able to keep them in check. The Indians killed several when
close upon their tents, but neither the fire of the Indians nor the
noise of the dogs could soon drive them away. Whatever were the terrors
which filled the wood, they had no other escape from the terrors of the
storm.”

Two days later they reached the neighborhood of the camp, which was
situated in a woody island. Messengers came to welcome them, and a
guard armed with bows and spears, evidently the soldiers, to escort
them to the home which had been assigned them. They were quartered in
a comfortable skin lodge, seated on buffalo robes; women brought them
water for washing, and presently a man invited them to a feast, himself
showing them the way to the head chief’s tent. The usual smoking,
feasting, and speech-making followed.

These Osinipoilles seemed not before to have seen white men, for when
walking about the camp, crowds of women and children followed them,
very respectfully, but evidently devoured by insatiable curiosity.
Water here was obtained by hanging a buffalo paunch kettle filled with
snow in the smoke of the fire, and, as the snow melted, more and more
was added, until the paunch was full of water. During their stay they
never had occasion to cook in the lodge, being constantly invited to
feasts. They had with them always the guard of soldiers, who were
careful to allow no one to crowd upon or annoy the travellers. They
had been here but a short time when the head chief sent them word that
he was going to hunt buffalo the next day, and asked them to be of the
party.

“In the morning we went to the hunt accordingly. The chief was followed
by about forty men and a great number of women. We proceeded to a small
island [of timber] on the plain, at the distance of five miles from the
village. On our way we saw large herds of oxen at feed, but the hunters
forebore to molest them lest they should take the alarm.

“Arrived at the island, the women pitched a few tents, while the
chief led his hunters to its southern end, where there was a pound or
inclosure. The fence was about four feet high, and formed of strong
stakes of birch wood, wattled with smaller branches of the same. The
day was spent in making repairs, and by the evening all was ready for
the hunt.

“At daylight several of the more expert hunters were sent to decoy the
animals into the pound. They were dressed in ox skins, with the hair
and horns. Their faces were covered, and their gestures so closely
resembled those of the animals themselves that, had I not been in the
secret, I should have been as much deceived as the oxen.

“At ten o’clock one of the hunters returned, bringing information of
the herd. Immediately all the dogs were muzzled; and, this done, the
whole crowd of men and women surrounded the outside of the pound.
The herd, of which the extent was so great that I cannot pretend to
estimate the numbers, was distant half a mile, advancing slowly, and
frequently stopping to feed. The part played by the decoyers was that
of approaching them within hearing and then bellowing like themselves.
On hearing the noise, the oxen did not fail to give it attention, and,
whether from curiosity or sympathy, advanced to meet those from whom it
proceeded. These, in the meantime, fell back deliberately toward the
pound, always repeating the call whenever the oxen stopped. This was
reiterated till the leaders of the herd had followed the decoyers into
the jaws of the pound, which, though wide asunder toward the plain,
terminated, like a funnel, in a small aperture or gateway, and within
this was the pound itself. The Indians remark that in all herds of
animals there are chiefs, or leaders, by whom the motions of the rest
are determined.

“The decoyers now retired within the pound, and were followed by the
oxen. But the former retired still further, withdrawing themselves
at certain movable parts of the fence, while the latter were fallen
upon by all the hunters and presently wounded and killed by showers of
arrows. Amid the uproar which ensued the oxen made several attempts
to force the fence, but the Indians stopped them and drove them back
by shaking skins before their eyes. Skins were also made use of to
stop the entrance, being let down by strings as soon as the oxen were
inside. The slaughter was prolonged till the evening, when the hunters
returned to their tents. Next morning all the tongues were presented to
the chief, to the number of seventy-two.

“The women brought the meat to the village on sledges drawn by dogs.
The lumps on the shoulders, and the hearts, as well as the tongues,
were set apart for feasts, while the rest was consumed as ordinary
food, or dried, for sale at the fort.”

Henry has much to say about the Assiniboines, their methods of
hunting, religion, marriage, healing, and many other customs. He
notes especially their cruelty to their slaves, and says that the
Assiniboines seldom married captive women.

On the 19th of February the Assiniboine camp started to the Fort des
Prairies, and on the 28th camped at a little distance from it; but
Henry and his companions went on, and reached the post that evening.
Henry declares that “The Osinipoilles at this period had had no
acquaintance with any foreign nation sufficient to affect their ancient
and pristine habits. Like the other Indians, they were cruel to their
enemies; but, as far as the experience of myself and other Europeans
authorizes me to speak, they were a harmless people with a large share
of simplicity of manners and plain dealing. They lived in fear of the
Cristinaux, by whom they were not only frequently imposed upon, but
pillaged, when the latter met their bands in smaller numbers than their
own.”

On the 22d of March Henry set out to return to Beaver Lake. They
reached Cumberland House on the 5th of April, and Beaver Lake on the
9th. The lake was still covered with ice, and fish had grown scarce, so
that it was necessary to keep fishing all the time in order to provide
sustenance. Early in May, however, water-fowl made their appearance,
and for some little time there was abundance. They left their post on
the 21st of April, very short of provisions. They travelled slowly,
finally coming to a large lake which, on the 6th of June, was still
frozen over, but the ice was too weak to be crossed. The Indians
killed some moose. On reaching Churchill River they set out for Lake
Arabuthcow [Athabasca] with six Canadians and an Indian woman as guide.
The river was sometimes broad and slow-flowing, and again narrow and
very rapid. Fish were plenty. On January 24th they reached Isle à la
Crosse Lake, and met a number of Indians, to whom they made presents
and whom they invited to visit them at their fort. These Indians seem
to have been Chipewyans, known to ethnologists as Athabascans. They
accepted the white men’s invitation, and all started for the fort,
continuing the journey day and night, stopping only to boil the kettle.

The discipline among these Athabasca Indians seemed exceedingly good,
as, in fact, it usually was in primitive times. The orders given by the
chief were conscientiously obeyed, and this under circumstances of much
temptation, since, when liquor was being served out to the young men, a
certain number were told off who were ordered not to drink at all, but
to maintain a constant guard over the white men.

In the trade which followed, the Indians delivered their skins at a
small window in the fort, made for that purpose, asking at the same
time for the different articles they wished to purchase, of which the
prices had been previously settled with the chiefs. The trade lasted
for more than two days, and amounted to 12,000 beaver skins, besides
large numbers of otter and marten skins. These Indians had come from
Lake Arabuthcow, at which they had wintered. They reported that at
the farther end of that lake was a river called Peace River, which
descended from the Stony or Rocky Mountains, from which mountains the
distance to the Salt Lake, meaning the Pacific Ocean, was not great.
Other things the Indians told Henry which he did not then understand,
but a few years later Alexander Mackenzie was to meet these problems
and to solve many of them. These Indians dressed in beaver skins, and
were orderly and unoffending. Mr. Joseph Frobisher and Henry now set
out to return to the Grand Portage, leaving the remainder of their
merchandise in the care of Thomas Frobisher, who was to go with them to
Lake Athabasca.

When Henry reached the Lake of the Woods he found there some Indians,
who told him that a strange nation had entered Montreal, taken Quebec,
killed all the English, and would certainly be at the Grand Portage
before they reached there. Henry remarked to his companion that he
suspected the Bastonnais had been up to some mischief in Canada, and
the Indians at once exclaimed, “Yes, that’s the name, Bastonnais.”
Bastonnais or Bostonnais, that is, “Boston men,” was a name commonly
used in the Northwest to distinguish the Americans from the English, or
“King George men.”

Without further accident Henry reached the Grand Portage, from which
place he continued to Montreal, which he reached the 15th of October.
Here he found that the Americans had been driven out, and that the
city was protected by the forces of General Burgoyne. The capture of
Montreal took place in the fall of 1775, and Quebec was besieged during
the winter of 1775-1776, and it was nearly a year later that Henry
heard the news at the Lake of the Woods.

This ends the account of Henry’s travels, but he was still in the
fur trade for many years later. In 1785 he was a leading merchant of
Montreal, and in 1790 he returned to Michilimackinac.

His book was published in New York in 1809, and thus not until eight
years after the publication of Alexander Mackenzie’s great work. Henry
died in Montreal, April 4, 1824, in the 85th year of his age.

Besides himself being a fur trader, Henry was a father of fur traders.
His son, William Henry, is constantly mentioned in the diary of
Alexander Henry the younger. A second son, Alexander, was also in the
fur trade, and was killed on the Liard River. Alexander Henry the
younger, a nephew, is well known, and will be noticed hereafter. A Mr.
Bethune, constantly spoken of by Alexander Henry, Jr., may, or may not,
have been a relative. Certain it is that Alexander Henry had nephews
named Bethune.

The narrative is remarkable from its simplicity and clearness of style,
as well as for the keen powers of observation shown by the writer. It
is one of the most interesting of the many interesting volumes on the
fur trade of its own and later times.




CHAPTER IV

JONATHAN CARVER


At the close of the “late war with France,” when peace had been
established by the treaty of Versailles, in the year 1763, Jonathan
Carver, the captain of a company of provincial troops during the
French and Indian War, began to consider how he might continue to do
service to his country and contribute as much as lay in his power to
make advantageous to Great Britain that vast territory which had been
acquired by that war in North America. What this territory was, how far
it extended, what were its products, who were its inhabitants, were
some of the questions that suggested themselves to Carver. He was a
good patriot, and felt that knowledge as to these points would be of
the greatest importance to his country. With the natural suspicion that
Englishmen of his time felt of the French, he believed that they, while
they retained their power in North America, had taken every artful
method to keep all other nations, particularly the English, ignorant of
everything concerning the interior parts of the country. “To accomplish
this design with the greatest certainty,” he says, “they had published
inaccurate maps and false accounts; calling the different nations of
the Indians by nicknames they had given them, and not by those really
appertaining to them. Whether the intention of the French in doing
this was to prevent these nations from being discovered and traded
with, or to conceal their discourse, when they talked to each other
of the Indian concerns, in their presence, I will not determine; but
whatsoever was the cause from which it arose, it tended to mislead.”

Carver contemplated something more important and far-reaching than the
mere investigation of the country, for he says: “What I chiefly had
in view after gaining a knowledge of the manners, customs, languages,
soil, and natural products of the different nations that inhabit the
back of the Mississippi, was to ascertain the breadth of that vast
continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean in its broadest part,
between 43 and 46 degrees north latitude. Had I been able to accomplish
this, I intended to have proposed to the government to establish a post
in some of those parts about the Straits of Annian [Puget Sound] which,
having been first discovered by Sir Francis Drake, of course belonged
to the English. This, I am convinced, would greatly facilitate the
discovery of the northwest passage, or a communication between Hudson’s
Bay and the Pacific Ocean, an event so desirable, and which has been
so often sought for, but without success. Besides this important
end, a settlement on that extremity of America would answer many
good purposes, and repay every expense the establishment of it might
occasion. For it would not only disclose new sources of trade, and
promote many useful discoveries, but would open a passage for conveying
intelligence to China, and the English settlements in the East Indies,
with greater expedition than a tedious voyage by the Cape of Good Hope
or the Straits of Magellan would allow of.”

Carver’s projects for crossing the continent to the Pacific Ocean
proved abortive; yet he travelled into the interior nearly as far as
any one had hitherto advanced. True, the Verendryes and one or two of
the Jesuit Fathers went beyond him on this parallel of latitude; yet
the work which Carver published is almost the first that touches on a
region lying well within the borders of the Louisiana Purchase, and now
one of the most important sections of the United States.

In his introduction, Carver has a prophetic word to say about the
unhappy relations existing, when he wrote, between Great Britain
and America. “To what power or authority this new world will become
dependent, after it has arisen from its present uncultivated state,
time alone can discover. But as the seat of Empire, from time
immemorial, has been gradually progressive toward the west, there is no
doubt but that at some future period, mighty kingdoms will emerge from
these wildernesses, and stately palaces and solemn temples, with gilded
spires reaching the skies, supplant the Indians’ huts, whose only
decorations are the barbarous trophies of their vanquished enemies.”

In June, 1766, Carver left Boston for the interior parts of North
America. He has little to say about the country lying adjacent to the
“back-settlements,” which, he observes, have often been described.
He passed through the Great Lakes, mentioning as he goes various
Indian tribes and some of the products of the country, stopped some
little time at the great town of the Winnebagoes, at Lake Winnebago,
in Wisconsin, where he was very civilly received. At this time these
people had a queen, or woman chief. He discusses this tribe at some
length, and incidentally repeats a curious story: “An elderly chief
more particularly acquainted me that, about forty-six winters ago,
he marched, at the head of fifty warriors, toward the south-west for
three moons. That during this expedition, whilst they were crossing
a plain, they discovered a body of men on horseback, who belonged to
the Black People; for so they call the Spaniards. As soon as they
perceived them, they proceeded with caution, and concealed themselves
till night came on; when they drew so near as to be able to discern
the number and situation of their enemies. Finding they were not able
to cope with so great a superiority by daylight, they waited till they
had retired to rest; when they rushed upon them, and after having
killed the greatest part of the men, took eighty horses loaded with
what they termed white stone. This I suppose to have been silver, as
he told me the horses were shod with it, and that their bridles were
ornamented with the same. When they had satiated their revenge, they
carried off their spoil, and being got so far as to be out of reach of
the Spaniards that had escaped their fury, they left the useless and
ponderous burthen, with which the horses were loaded, in the woods,
and mounting themselves, in this manner returned to their friends.
The party they had thus defeated, I conclude to be the caravan that
annually conveys to Mexico the silver which the Spaniards find in great
quantities on the mountains lying near the heads of the Colorado River;
and the plains where the attack was made, probably, some they were
obliged to pass over in their way to the heads of the River St. Fee, or
Rio del Nord, which falls into the Gulf of Mexico to the west of the
Mississippi.”

From the Winnebago town, Carver proceeded up the Fox River, and then
carried across a short distance to the Ouisconsin River, and proceeded
down that. Here he found the great town of the Saukies, the largest
and best built Indian town he ever saw. It consisted of “about ninety
houses, each large enough for several families, built of hewn plank,
neatly jointed, and covered with bark so compactly as to keep out the
most penetrating rains.” The streets were regular and spacious; and it
appeared more like a civilized town than the abode of savages. About
the town lay the plantations of the Indians, in which they raised great
quantities of corn, beans, and melons; and their annual product was
so large that this place was esteemed the best market for traders to
furnish themselves with provisions of any within eight hundred miles.
Near the mouth of the Wisconsin River, on the banks of the Mississippi,
the Ottigaumies--Outagami, _i. e._, “people of the other band,” that is
the Foxes--had a large town, at a place called “La Prairie des Chiens
[Carver writes this name in various ways], which signifies Dog Plains,”
a great trading place.

About the first of November, Carver reached Lake Pepin, and speaks with
the greatest enthusiasm of the beauty of the country, its apparent
productiveness, and the extraordinary number of game and wild fowl
seen near about it. “On the plains,” he says, “are the largest buffalo
of any in America. In the groves are found great plenty of turkeys
and partridges; while great numbers of fowl, such as storks, swans,
geese, brants, and ducks frequent the lake.” A little below that lake
he discovered, in a fine, level, open plain, what had once been a
breastwork, about four feet in height, extending the best part of a
mile, and sufficiently capacious to cover five thousand men; one of
the famous mounds for which the Mississippi Valley has so long been
celebrated.

[Illustration: A MAN OF THE NAUDOWESSIE.

A MAN OF THE OTTIGAUMIES.

From _Travels Through the Interior Parts of North America_, by Jonathan
Carver.]

About thirty miles above Lake Pepin, near the St. Croix River, Carver
met three bands of the Naudowessie--Sioux--Indians; and while he was
there a war party of Chippewas approached the camp, and seemed to be
preparing for an attack. The Sioux requested Carver to help them, to
put himself at their head and lead them against their enemies. This
the traveller was of course unwilling to do, for his work in the
country made it important that he should be friendly with all people.
He endeavored to persuade the Sioux to allow him to attempt to make
peace with the Chippewas, and when at length they assented, he met the
invaders and succeeded in inducing them to turn back without making
an attack. He then persuaded the Sioux to move their camp to another
part of the country, lest the Chippewas should change their mind and
return to attack them. Carver declares that this diplomatic success
gained him great credit with both Sioux and Chippewas; that to it he
was indebted for the friendly reception that he afterward met with the
Naudowessie of the Plains; and that when many months later he reached
the village of the Chippewas, farther to the north, he was received
with great cordiality by the chiefs, many of whom thanked him for
having prevented the mischief.

About thirty miles below the Falls of St. Anthony, Carver was
shown a remarkable cave of amazing depth, which the Indians called
Wacon-teebe--Wakán tipi, mysterious or sacred dwelling--that is to say,
“the Dwelling of the Great Spirit.” Within it is a lake, which “extends
to an unsearchable distance; for the darkness of the cave prevents all
attempts to acquire a knowledge of it.” The walls are covered with
many Indian hieroglyphics, which seem to be very ancient, for time
had nearly covered them with moss. The Falls of St. Anthony greatly
impressed Carver, as they did the young Indian in his company.

At the mouth of the river St. Francis, Carver says, “I observed here
many deer and carraboes--a record for the caribou unusually far south
for the mid continent--some elk, with abundance of beavers, otters and
other furs. Not far above this, to the north-east, are a number of
small lakes called the Thousand Lakes; the parts about which though but
little frequented, are the best within many miles for hunting, as the
hunter never fails of returning loaded beyond his expectations.”

Above the St. Francis River, the Mississippi was new ground, for
Hennepin, the river’s first explorer, had not passed up it farther
than the St. Francis, and Carver remarks that, “As this river is not
navigable from sea for vessels of any considerable burthen, much
higher up than the forks of the Ohio, and even that is accomplished
with great difficulty, owing to the rapidity of the current, and the
windings of the river, those settlements which may be made on the
interior branches of it must be indisputably secure from the attacks
of any maritime power. But at the same time the settlers will have
the advantage of being able to convey their produce to the sea-ports
with great facility, the current of the river, from its source to its
entrance into the Gulph of Mexico, being extremely favorable for doing
this in small craft. This might also in time be facilitated by canals
or shorter cuts; and a communication opened by water with New York,
Canada, etc., by way of the lakes.”

Returning to the mouth of the river St. Pierre, now the Minnesota
River, Carver ascended this about two hundred miles, to the country
of the Naudowessie of the Plains. The northern branch of the river
St. Pierre rises, he says, from a number of lakes near the Shining
Mountains; and it is from some of these also that a capital branch of
the river Bourbon--the York, now Nelson River--which runs into Hudson’s
Bay, has its sources. All this geography comes from the accounts of
Indians, and is clearly misunderstood as to distance and location,
for Carver says, also, that the river Messorie, which enters the
Mississippi far to the southward, also takes its rise at the head of
the river St. Pierre. His distances were very far from right, for he
makes the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi, the river Bourbon, and the
Oregon, or River of the West (Columbia), head all together in these
high mountains.

At the great Sioux camp, which he came to on this river, and which he
estimated to contain a thousand people, most of whom had never seen a
white man, he was most hospitably received. He spent the winter with
them, studying their language, acquiring so far as possible a knowledge
of the geography of the country, and at last, with a considerable
portion of the camp, returning down the river to the Great Cave, and
to the burial ground which lay near it. Before parting with the Sioux
he held a council with them, at which long speeches were made by both
Englishman and Indians, and finally Carver left them to return to La
Prairie du Chien, where there were some traders from whom he purchased
goods for his farther journey.

Among the places now well known which Carver visited, was what he calls
the Red Mountain, from which the Indians get a sort of red stone out
of which they hew the bowls of their pipes. This is, no doubt, the
pipestone quarry, described by Catlin, and then owned by the Sioux
Indians, which has been purchased by the government as a park. Carver
says, also, that in some of these parts is found a black, hard clay, or
rather stone, of which, the Indians make their family utensils.

Carver was much impressed by the beauties of the country through
which the river St. Pierre [Minnesota River] flowed; of which he
says: “Wild rice grows here in great abundance; and every part is
filled with trees, bending under their loads of fruit, such as plums,
grapes, and apples; the meadows are covered with hops, and many sorts
of vegetables; whilst the ground is stored with useful roots, with
angelica, spikenard, and ground-nuts as large as hen’s eggs. At a
little distance from the sides of the river are eminences, from which
you have views that cannot be exceeded even by the most beautiful of
those I have already described; amidst these are delightful groves,
and such amazing quantities of maples, that they would produce sugar
sufficient for any number of inhabitants.”

Carver at length reached La Prairie du Chien, and after attending to
various matters there, returned up the Mississippi to the place where
the Chippewa River enters it, a little below Lake Pepin. Here he
engaged an Indian pilot, and instructed him to steer toward the Ottowaw
Lakes, which lie near the head of that river. About thirty miles from
the mouth, Carver took the easternmost of the two branches and passed
along through the wide, gently flowing stream. “The country adjoining
to the river,” he says, “for about sixty miles, is very level, and on
its banks lie fine meadows, where larger droves of buffaloes and elks
were feeding, than I had observed in any other part of my travels. The
track between the two branches of this river is termed the Road of War
between the Chipeway and Naudowessie Indians.” Near the head of the
stream he came upon a Chippewa town, the houses built after the Indian
manner, and having neat plantations behind them. He then carried over
to the head of the river St. Croix, descended one of the branches, and
then ascended another; and on both streams he discovered several mines
of virgin copper. Then carrying across a height of land and descending
another stream, he found himself on Lake Superior, and coasted along
its western shores until he reached the Grand Portage, between Lake
Superior and Lac la Pluie, or Rainy Lake.

Here were met a large party of Killistinoe and Assinipoil Indians,
“with their respective kings and their families.” They had come to
this place to meet the traders from the east, who were accustomed to
make this their road to the north-west. From these Indians Carver
received considerable geographical information about the country to the
westward, much of which, however, is too vague to be very valuable.
Many of the great lakes to the westward were mentioned and described,
and some of them are readily recognized. Such are Lake Winnepeek, Lac
du Bois, and Lac la Pluye, or Rainy Lake. Of the country about Lake
Bourbon and Lake Winnepeek it was said that there were found some
buffalo of small size, which were fat and good in the latter part
of the summer. This difference in size Carver attributes to their
northerly situation; “just as the black cattle of the northern parts of
Great Britain differ from English oxen.” But it is quite probable that
these “small buffalo” may have been musk-oxen, and their location wrong.

“These Indians informed me that to the northwest of Lake Winnepeek lies
another whose circumference vastly exceeded any they had given me an
account of. They describe it as much larger than Lake Superior. But
as it appears to be so far to the northwest, I should imagine that it
was not a lake, but rather the Archipelago or broken waters that form
the communication between Hudson’s Bay and the northern parts of the
Pacific Ocean.”

As already stated, Carver believed that the headwaters of the Missouri
were not far from the headwaters of his St. Pierre River. The Indians
told him that they frequently crossed over from the head of that stream
to the Missouri. The nearest water to the head of the Minnesota River
is Big Sioux River in Dakota, which is, in fact, a tributary of the
Missouri.

The ethnological information there gathered was as little trustworthy
as that concerning the geography of the more distant parts. For
example, it is said that in the country belonging to the Pawnees, and
the Pawnawnees, nations inhabiting some branches of the Messorie River,
mandrakes are frequently found, a species of root resembling human
beings of both sexes; and that these are more perfect than such as are
discovered about the Nile in Nether-Ethiopia.

“A little to the northwest of the heads of the Messorie and the St.
Pierre, the Indians further told me, that there was a nation rather
smaller and whiter than the neighboring tribes, who cultivate the
ground, and (as far as I could gather from their expressions), in
some measure, the arts. To this account they added that some of the
nations who inhabit those parts that lie to the west of the Shining
Mountains, have gold so plenty among them that they make their most
common utensils of it. These mountains (which I shall describe more
particularly hereafter) divide the waters that fall into the South Sea
from those that run into the Atlantic.

“The people dwelling near them are supposed to be some of the different
tribes that were tributary to the Mexican kings, and who fled from
their native country to seek an asylum in these parts, about the time
of the conquest of Mexico by the Spaniards, more than two centuries
ago.” After a brief discussion of the reasons which may have led these
supposed immigrants, and the Winnebagoes to leave their southern home
for the north, Carver speaks at some length of the Shining or Rocky
Mountains, just mentioned.

“That range of mountains, of which the Shining Mountains are a part,
begin at Mexico, and continuing northward on the back or at the east
of California, separate the waters of those numerous rivers that fall
either into the Gulph of Mexico or the Gulph of California. From thence
continuing their course still northward, between the sources of the
Mississippi and the rivers that run into the South Sea, they appear
to end in about forty-seven or forty-eight degrees of north latitude;
where a number of rivers arise, and empty themselves either into the
South Sea, into Hudson’s Bay, or into the waters that communicate
between these two seas.

“Among these mountains, those that lie to the west of the river St.
Pierre are called the Shining Mountains, from an infinite number of
crystal stones, of an amazing size, with which they are covered, and
which, when the sun shines full upon them, sparkle so as to be seen at
a very great distance.

“This extraordinary range of mountains is calculated to be more
than three thousand miles in length, without any very considerable
intervals, which I believe surpasses anything of the kind in the other
quarters of the globe. Probably in future ages they may be found to
contain more riches in their bowels than those of Indostan and Malabar,
or that are produced on the Golden Coast of Guinea; nor will I except
even the Peruvian mines. To the west of these mountains, when explored
by future Columbuses or Raleighs, may be found other lakes, rivers
and countries, full fraught with all the necessaries or luxuries of
life; and where future generations may find an asylum, whether driven
from their country by the ravages of lawless tyrants, or by religious
persecutions, or reluctantly leaving it to remedy the inconveniences
arising from a superabundant increase of inhabitants; whether, I say,
impelled by these, or allured by hopes of commercial advantages, there
is little doubt but their expectations will be fully gratified by these
rich and unexhausted climes.”

The pages which Carver devotes to a description of the unknown country
to the west, are inserted in his account while he was sojourning with
these Crees and Assiniboines, at the Grand Portage. There were more
than three hundred people in the camp, and as they waited for the
traders who did not come, their stock of provisions began to run low;
and the coming of the traders was awaited with an impatience that
increased day by day.

It was during this period of waiting that Carver had an opportunity
to witness one of those prophecies by a priest, or medicine man,
which even in modern times have puzzled many cool and clear heads;
and though the story of what he saw is long, yet it is worth while to
give his account of it in full. It appears that one day while all were
expressing their hopes for the early arrival of the traders, and were
sitting on the hill looking over the lake, in the hope that they might
be seen, the chief priest of the Crees informed those who were with
him that he would endeavor to obtain information from the Great Spirit
as to when the traders would arrive. Carver gave little heed to the
suggestion, supposing it to be merely a juggling trick; but the chief
of the tribe advised him that the priest had made this offer chiefly
for the purpose of allaying his anxiety, and at the same time to
convince Carver of his ability to talk with the Great Spirit.

“The following evening was fixed upon for this spiritual conference.
When everything had been properly prepared, the king came to me and led
me to a capacious tent, the covering of which was drawn up, so as to
render what was transacting within visible to those who stood without.
We found the tent surrounded by a great number of the Indians, but we
readily gained admission, and seated ourselves on skins laid on the
ground for that purpose.

“In the centre I observed that there was a place of an oblong shape,
which was composed of stakes stuck in the ground, with intervals
between, so as to form a kind of chest or coffin, large enough to
contain the body of a man. These were of a middle size, and placed at
such a distance from each other, that whatever lay within them was
readily to be discerned. The tent was perfectly illuminated by a great
number of torches made of splinters cut from the pine or birch tree,
which the Indians held in their hands.

“In a few minutes the priest entered; when an amazing large elk’s skin
being spread on the ground, just at my feet, he laid himself down upon
it, after having stript himself of every garment except that which he
wore close about his middle. Being now prostrate upon his back, he
first laid hold of one side of the skin, and folded it over him, and
then the other; leaving only his head uncovered. This was no sooner
done, than two of the young men who stood by took about forty yards of
strong cord, made also of an elk’s hide, and rolled it tight around
his body, so that he was completely swathed within the skin. Being
thus bound up like an Egyptian mummy, one took him by the heels and the
other by the head, and lifted him over the pales into the inclosure. I
could now also discern him as plain as I had hitherto done, and I took
care not to turn my eyes a moment from the object before me, that I
might the more readily detect the artifice, for such I doubted not but
that it would turn out to be.

“The priest had not lain in this situation more than a few seconds when
he began to mutter. This he continued to do for some time, and then by
degrees grew louder and louder, till at length he spoke articulately;
however, what he uttered was in such a mixed jargon of the Chippeway,
Ottawaw, and Killistinoe languages, that I could understand but very
little of it. Having continued in this tone for a considerable while
he at last exerted his voice to its utmost pitch, sometimes raving and
sometimes praying, till he had worked himself into such an agitation
that he foamed at his mouth.

“After having remained near three-quarters of an hour in the place and
continued his vociferation with unabated vigor, he seemed to be quite
exhausted, and remained speechless. But in an instant he sprung to his
feet, notwithstanding at the time he was put in it appeared impossible
for him to move either his legs or arms, and shaking off his covering,
as quick as if the bands with which it had been bound were burned
asunder, he began to address those who stood around, in a firm and
audible voice. ‘My Brothers,’ said he, ‘the Great Spirit has deigned
to hold a talk with his servant at my earnest request. He has not,
indeed, told me when the persons we expect will be here, but to-morrow,
soon after the sun has reached his highest point in the heavens, a
canoe will arrive, and the people in that will inform us when the
traders will come.’ Having said this, he stepped out of the inclosure,
and after he had put on his robes, dismissed the assembly. I own I was
greatly astonished at what I had seen, but as I observed that every eye
in the company was fixed on me with a view to discover my sentiments, I
carefully concealed every emotion.

“The next day the sun shone bright, and long before noon all the
Indians were gathered together on the eminence that overlooked the
lake. The old king came to me and asked me whether I had so much
confidence in what the priest had foretold as to join his people on
the hill and wait for the completion of it? I told him that I was at a
loss what opinion to form of the prediction, but that I would readily
attend him. On this we walked together to the place where the others
were assembled. Every eye was again fixed by turns on me and on the
lake; when just as the sun had reached his zenith, agreeable to what
the priest had foretold, a canoe came round a point of land about a
league distant. The Indians no sooner beheld it than they sent up an
universal shout, and by their looks seemed to triumph in the interest
their priest thus evidently had with the Great Spirit.

“In less than an hour the canoe reached the shore, when I attended
the king and chiefs to receive those who were on board. As soon as
the men were landed, we walked all together to the king’s tent, where
according to their invariable custom we began to smoke; and this we
did, notwithstanding our impatience to know the tidings they brought,
without asking any questions; for the Indians are the most deliberate
people in the world. However, after some trivial conversation, the
king inquired of them whether they had seen anything of the traders?
The men replied that they had parted from them a few days before, and
that they proposed being here the second day from the present. They
accordingly arrived at that time, greatly to our satisfaction, but
more particularly to that of the Indians, who found by this event the
importance both of their priest and of their nation greatly augmented
in the sight of a stranger.

“This story I acknowledge appears to carry with it marks of great
credulity in the relator. But no one is less tinctured with that
weakness than myself. The circumstances of it I own are of a very
extraordinary nature; however, as I can vouch for their being free
from either exaggeration or misrepresentation, being myself a cool and
dispassionate observer of them all, I thought it necessary to give them
to the public. And this I do, without wishing to mislead the judgment
of my readers, or to make any superstitious impressions on their minds,
but leaving them to draw from it what conclusions they please.”

The arrival of the traders, so anxiously looked for, did not greatly
help Carver, who found that he could not procure from them the goods
that he desired, and shortly afterward he proceeded eastward, having
coasted around the north and east shores of Lake Superior. He describes
the lake, and the various peoples who inhabit its borders, most of whom
are Chippewas. During his trip, he found native copper on a stream
running into the lake on the south, and describes how large a trade
might be made in this metal, which, as he says, “costs nothing on
the spot, and requires but little expense to get it on board; could
be conveyed in boats or canoes through the Falls of St. Marie to the
Isle of St. Joseph, which lies at the bottom of the straits near the
entrance into Lake Huron; from thence it might be put on board large
vessels, and in them transported across that lake to the Falls of
Niagara; there being carried by land across the Portage, it might
be conveyed without much more obstruction to Quebec. The cheapness
and ease with which any quantity of it may be procured will make up
for the length of way that it is necessary to transport it before it
reaches the sea-coast, and enable the proprietors to send it to foreign
markets on as good terms as it can be exported from other countries.”
Stockholders in the Calumet and Hecla and in other Lake Superior copper
concerns are requested to take notice.

The fishing of Lake Superior impressed Carver as much as it has other
travellers. Of these fish he says: “The principal and best are the
trout and sturgeon, which may be caught at almost any season in the
greatest abundance. The trout in general weigh about twelve pounds;
but some are caught that exceed fifty. Besides these, a species of
white fish is taken in great quantities here, that resemble a shad in
their shape, but they are rather thicker, and less bony; they weigh
about four pounds each, and are of a delicious taste. The best way of
catching these fish is with a net; but the trout may be taken at all
times with the hook. There are likewise many sorts of smaller fish
in great plenty here, and which may be taken with ease; among these
is a sort resembling a herring, which are generally made use of as a
bait for the trout.” The foot of the Sault Ste. Marie, which Carver
calls the Falls of St. Marie, is noted by him as “a most commodious
station for catching the fish, which are to be found there in immense
quantities. Persons standing on the rocks which lie adjacent to it may
take with dipping nets, about the months of September and October, the
white fish before-mentioned; at that season, together with several
other species, they crowd up to this spot in such amazing shoals that
enough may be taken to supply, when properly cured, thousands of
inhabitants throughout the year.”

Passing now through the Straits into Lake Huron, this body of water is
described, and attention called to the rise and fall of the waters,
which Carver says is not diurnal, but occurs in periods of seven years
and a half. Still going eastward, the town of Detroit was reached, and
something given of its history in recent years, and especially of the
conspiracy of Pontiac, and the death of that chief.

In Lake Erie, Carver noticed the islands near the west end, so infested
with rattlesnakes that it is very dangerous to land on them; and also
the great number of water-snakes, which lie in the sun on the leaves of
the large pond-lilies floating on the water.

“The most remarkable of the different species that infest this lake is
the hissing-snake [the innocent _Heterodon platyrhinos_], which is of
the small, speckled kind, and about eighteen inches long. When anything
approaches, it flattens itself in a moment, and its spots, which are
of varied dyes, become visibly brighter through rage; at the same
time it blows from its mouth with great force a subtile wind, that is
reported to be of a nauseous smell; and if drawn in with the breath of
the unwary traveller, will infallibly bring on a decline, that in a few
months must prove mortal, there being no remedy yet discovered which
can counteract its baneful influence.” Still proceeding eastward, the
author continues to describe the country, mentioning many well-known
lakes, and the peoples about them.

This concludes Carver’s journey, but by no means his book, of which
the remaining two-thirds are devoted to the manners and customs of
the Indians, with a chapter giving vocabularies of several languages,
and other chapters treating of the fauna and flora of the vast region
passed over. Like most writers about the Indians, he discusses their
origin, quoting a great number of authors, from the discovery of
America to the time of his writing; the last of these, Adair, who, as
is well known, devoted a very considerable work to proving to his own
satisfaction that the Indians were the lost tribes of Israel. Carver
announces that he is of the opinion that “the North American continent
received its first inhabitants from the islands which lie between the
extremities of Asia and America, viz., Japon, Yeso, or Jedso, Gama’s
Land, Behring’s Isle, with many others”; to which he adds a cluster
of islands that reach as far as Siberia, which may possibly be the
Aleutian Islands. To support this conclusion, he advances many cogent
arguments, and announces that “that great and learned historian Doctor
Robinson,” is of the same opinion with him.

Concerning the persons and dress of the Indians, Carver has much to
say. He notices many things still well known, and speaks of certain
others that are so long obsolete as to be almost forgotten. Thus he
declares that: “It is also a common custom among them to bore their
noses, and wear in them pendants of different sorts. I observed that
sea-shells were much worn by those of the interior parts, and reckoned
very ornamental; but how they procured them I could not learn: probably
by their traffick with other nations nearer the sea.” Another custom
noted, which has long been obsolete, but is still remembered by the
most ancient persons of some of the Western tribes, is the woman’s
fashion of dressing the hair. To the west of the Mississippi, he says,
the Sioux and Assiniboine women “divide their hair in the middle of the
head, and form it into two rolls, one against each ear. These rolls are
about three inches long, and as large as their wrists. They hang in a
perpendicular attitude at the front of each ear, and descend as far as
the lower part of it.”

The characteristics of the Indians, their method of reckoning time,
their government, division into tribes, their chiefs, food, dances, and
many other matters, are described at great length; as is also their
hunting, their manner of making war, and, incidentally, the defeat of
Braddock, and the massacre of the people under Col. Monroe, at Fort
William Henry. Carver himself appears to have been with the prisoners,
of whom so many were massacred on that unhappy day; but he himself at
length reached Fort Edward in safety. He tells something, also, of the
way in which the Indians tortured their captives, and speaks of the
Illinois Indian brought into the town of Ottigaumies, who was bound to
a tree while all the small boys in the village were permitted to amuse
themselves by shooting arrows at the victim. As none of the boys were
more than twelve years old, and they were placed at a considerable
distance, their arrows did little more than pierce the skin; so that
the prisoner stood for more than two days pierced with these arrows.
During all this time he sung his warlike exploits, told how much injury
he had inflicted on his enemies, and endeavored with his last gasp to
incite his tormentors to greater efforts, in order that he might give
still greater proofs of his fortitude.

Following the chapter on war comes one on their methods of making
peace; then one on games, marriage, religion, and character. The last
hundred pages of the volume treats “Of the Beasts, Birds, Fishes,
Reptiles, and Insects, which are found in the interior parts of North
America.” Of the larger mammals a catalogue is given from which two or
three descriptions may be taken.

“The Carrabou. This beast is not near so tall as the moose, however, it
is something like it in shape, only rather more heavy, and inclining
to the form of an ass. The horns of it are not flat as those of an elk
are, but round like those of the deer; they also meet nearer together
at the extremities, and bend more over the face than either those of
the elk or moose. It partakes of the swiftness of the deer, and is
with difficulty overtaken by its pursuers. The flesh of it likewise is
equally as good, the tongue particularly is in high esteem. The skin
being smooth and free from veins is as valuable as shamoy.”

“The Carcajou. This creature, which is of the cat kind, is a terrible
enemy to the preceding four species of beasts. He either comes upon
them from some concealment unperceived, or climbs up into a tree, and
taking his station on some of the branches, waits till one of them,
driven by an extreme of heat or cold, takes shelter under it; when he
fastens upon his neck, and opening the jugular vein, soon brings his
prey to the ground. This he is enabled to do by his long tail, with
which he encircles the body of his adversary; and the only means they
have to shun their fate is by flying immediately to the water, by this
method, as the carcajou has a great dislike to that element, he is
sometimes got rid of before he can effect his purpose.”

There is a very long description of the beaver, and its extraordinary
intelligence.

The list of birds, too, is a long one; but that of the fishes is very
short. To snakes, as might be imagined, much space is given; but to
insects very little. Carver describes the lightning-bug, but adds:
“Notwithstanding this effulgent appearance, these insects are perfectly
harmless; you may permit them to crawl upon your hand, when five or
six, if they freely exhibit their glow together, will enable you to
read almost the finest print.”

Trees, plants, and shrubs are all described, and among them the wild
rice, of which Carver says: “In future periods it will be of great
service to the infant colonies, as it will afford them a present
support until in the course of cultivation other supplies may be
produced; whereas in those realms which are not furnished with this
bounteous gift of nature, even if the climate is temperate and the soil
good, the first settlers are often exposed to great hardships from the
want of an immediate resource for necessary food.”

In his appendix, Carver sums up conclusions drawn from his extensive
travels in, and wide knowledge of, the interior of the continent. He
has faith in the discovery of a north-west passage, and believes that
Hudson’s Bay would be a safe retreat for the adventurous navigators who
might try, at first unsuccessfully, a north-west passage. He even names
a certain Richard Whitworth, gentleman, of England, who had proposed
pursuing nearly the same route as Carver, and having built a fort at
Lake Pepin, to have proceeded up the river St. Pierre, crossed over the
river Messorie, till, having discovered the source of the Oregon, or
River of the West, he would have sailed down that river to the place
where it is said to empty itself near the Straits of Annian. Carver was
to have accompanied this Mr. Whitworth on his explorations, and many of
the preparations had been made for the trip, “when the present troubles
in America began, which put a stop to an enterprize that promised to be
of inconceivable advantage to the British dominions.”

So the War of the Revolution put an end to Carver’s Western
explorations.




CHAPTER V

ALEXANDER MACKENZIE

I


Of the early explorers of the north none is more celebrated than
Alexander Mackenzie, the first man to penetrate from the interior to
the Frozen Ocean, and the first in the farther north to cross the
continent. Among the leaders of the north-west he is pre-eminent as
a discoverer, and of the early northmen his name is the most often
mentioned. His journeyings--that to the Arctic made in the year
1789, and that across the continent in 1792 and 1793--are told of in
a splendid volume, published in London in the year 1801, entitled,
_Voyages from Montreal and the River St. Lawrence, Through the
Continent of North America to the Frozen and Pacific Oceans, in
the Year 1789 and 1793_. Its publication was soon followed by the
conferring of knighthood on the author.

[Illustration: ALEXANDER MACKENZIE.

From Mackenzie’s _Voyages from Montreal Through the Continent of North
America_, etc.]

The earliest explorations of the interior of this continent were all
of them by water. By water the first missionaries pushed their way up
the St. Lawrence and through the Great Lakes, and then crossing over by
short portages to the Mississippi, journeyed down that great highway
of more modern times until they came to the Gulf of Mexico. Later,
missionaries and explorers and traders, still from Montreal, followed
the water trail up the Great Lakes to the Grand Portage, and thence
pressed westward until they reached Lake Winnipeg, the Saskatchewan,
and all that broad country which lies east of the northern Rocky
Mountains. The frail birch canoe carried their scanty provisions and
their goods for trade, and returned laden to the gunwale with rich
packages of furs. Later still, when the people of the United States
began to push westward, it was down the Alleghany and the Ohio--still
largely by water--that their journeyings were conducted.

Alexander Mackenzie was a fur trader, and he made his way westward,
by the usual route, to the Grand Portage, Lake Winnipeg, then up
the Saskatchewan and across to Fort Chipewyan, on the Lake of the
Hills--now known as Athabaska Lake. Though the journey was long, it
was full of interest; the country had been seen by few white people,
it abounded in life of many descriptions, all wild, and for the most
part undisturbed. He reached Fort Chipewyan with ninety or a hundred
men, and without any provision for their sustenance; but the lake was
full of fish, its shores abounded with game. The autumn fishing was
successful, and the cold during the winter intense, so that fish were
caught in great numbers and frozen, remaining good until spring. During
the spring and fall vast flocks of wild fowl resorted to the lakes,
and immense numbers were killed, so that for short terms the geese
supported the life of the traders.

In 1783 and 1784 the Northwest Fur Company had been established, in
opposition to the Hudson’s Bay Company, and included among its partners
many of the most celebrated traders of the north. Mackenzie had for
five years been employed in the counting house of Messrs. Gregory and
McLeod, and was admitted a partner in the Northwest Fur Company, and
went to the Indian country in 1785. How enormous the trade that this
company carried on is shown by a list of the returns for a single year,
which gives 106,000 beaver skins, 2,100 bear, 4,600 otter, 17,000
musquash, 32,000 marten, 6,000 lynx, 600 wolverine, 1,650 fisher,
besides a less number of fox, kitfox, wolf, elk, raccoon and deer
skins, and buffalo robes. Mackenzie was astronomer as well as trader.
He was also an observer who considered the economic possibilities of
the country, its fauna and its flora, and especially the game, as well
as the human inhabitants.

Mackenzie started from Fort Chipewyan, on the south side of the Lake of
the Hills, June 3, 1789, in a birch-bark canoe. His crew consisted of
four Canadians, a German, and two Indian women. An Indian interpreter,
known as English Chief, and his two wives journeyed in a small canoe,
while two young Indians followed in a third. English Chief had been one
of the followers of a chief who was with Mr. Hearne on his explorations
to the Coppermine River. A fourth canoe, in charge of one of the clerks
of the company, Mr. Le Roux, accompanied them, carrying a load of
trade goods and presents, together with a part of the provisions and
ammunition of the expedition. Their route was without much adventure
until they reached Slave Lake, still covered with ice, somewhat melted
near the shore. The gnats and mosquitoes which had troubled them during
the first few days that they had been on their way, here left them.
Mackenzie says: “The Indians informed me that at a very small distance
from either bank of the river are very extensive plains frequented by
large herds of buffaloes: while the moose and reindeer keep in the
woods that border on it. The beavers, which are in great numbers, build
their habitations in small lakes and rivers, as in the larger streams
the ice carries everything along with it during the spring. The mud
banks in the river are covered with wild fowl, and we this morning
killed two swans, ten geese, and one beaver, without suffering the
delay of an hour; so that we might have soon filled the canoe with
them, if that had been our object.” That same day they reached the
house erected on Slave Lake by Messrs. Grant and Le Roux in 1786, and
here they stopped and pitched their tents, as it seemed likely that the
ice would detain them for some time. The nets were set and many fish
were caught. Berries were already ripe, and the women were occupied
in gathering them, while wild fowl were breeding, and they collected
some dozens of their eggs. On Monday, June 15, the ice broke up near
them, and cleared a passage to the islands opposite; and at sunset they
embarked and crossed to them, where they stopped to gum their canoes,
and the next day set out again, following the shores of the lake. Ice
interrupted their passage from time to time. They supplied themselves
with food by means of their nets.

On the 18th, two of the hunters killed a reindeer and its fawn. The
ice continued to hinder them, but they worked along slowly. On one of
the islands that they passed reindeer were seen, and seven killed.
The island was named Isle de Carre Boeuf. Here occurs a somewhat
unusual usage of the term pemmican, described to be “fish dried in
the sun, and afterward pounded for the convenience of carriage.” The
more common meaning of the term is, flesh dried and pounded and mixed
with grease--as buffalo pemmican, elk pemmican, caribou pemmican. On
Tuesday, the 23d, the explorer met with a little camp--three lodges--of
Red-Knife Indians, so called from their copper knives. They informed
the explorer that others of their people were near at hand. These
Indians--now known as Yellow-Knives--are of Athabaskan stock, thus
allied to the Hare, Dog-Rib, and Chipewyan peoples, also to the Navajos
and Apaches of the south. They possessed some furs, and Mr. Le Roux
secured from them eight packs of good beaver and marten skins. They
seemed to know little or nothing about the country to the north, and
Mackenzie’s inquiries brought forth no useful information.

The ice in the lake was still troublesome, though breaking up fast. On
Monday, June 29, they entered the river by which Slave Lake discharges
to the north, and made good progress down it. On both sides of the
river the Indians reported that there were extensive plains, which
abounded in buffalo and moose-deer. By this time the wild fowl had
begun to molt, and the Indians no longer troubled to shoot them, but
pursued them in their canoes, killing them with sticks or capturing
them alive. On the 1st of July, keeping on down the river, they made a
cache of provisions on an island. By this time they had come in sight
of high mountains to the west, barren and rocky at the top, but well
wooded on the slopes.

On July 3 the current was stronger, and their progress still more
rapid. They saw frequent signs of camps, but none of very recent
occupation; but on the 5th, smoke was seen on the north shore of the
river, and as the canoes drew nearer, natives were discovered running
about in apparent alarm. Some took refuge in the woods, others hurried
to their canoes. The hunters landed, and calling out to the Chipewyans
in their own tongue, assured them that the party was a friendly one,
and after some difficulty the Indians became convinced that there was
no danger. These were five families of two different tribes, the Slave
and the Dog-Rib. Mackenzie offered them the pipe, though it was quite
apparent that they were unacquainted with tobacco, and also gave them a
drink of grog, which also seemed new to them. However, they appreciated
the beauties of knives, beads, awls, rings, hatchets, etc., and soon
became so trustful that “They became more familiar even than we
expected, for we could not keep them out of our tents; though I did not
observe that they attempted to purloin anything.

“The information that they gave respecting the river had so much of
the fabulous that I shall not detail it; it will be sufficient just to
mention their attempts to persuade us that it would require several
winters to get to the sea, and that old age would come upon us before
the period of our return; we were also to encounter monsters of such
horrid shapes and destructive power as could only exist in their wild
imagination. They added, besides, that there were two impassable falls
in the river, the first of which was about thirty days’ march from us.”

While these stories did not affect Mackenzie, they did influence his
Indians, who were already tired of the voyage, and anxious to turn
back, and it required some effort to convince them that it was better
to go on. One of the natives was persuaded to accompany them as a
guide, and though he afterward wished to withdraw, he was not allowed
to, and with some ceremony he finally took his unwilling departure
with the white men. These people used bone knives, were tattooed on
the face, wore a goose-quill, or a small piece of wood, through the
nose, and used vessels woven of wattap--the roots of the spruce or
tamarack--in which they boiled their food by hot stones. Arrows were
pointed with horn, flint, iron, or copper, and their axes were made of
stone. From the neighboring Red-Knives and Chipewyans, by barter for
skins, they obtained small pieces of iron, from which also they made
knives. Their awls were of iron or horn.

The guide whom they took from this country was anxious to return to
his people, and had to be watched constantly to prevent his escape.
As the explorers passed on northward they were constantly in sight of
the ridge of snowy mountains to the west. “Our conductor informed us
that great numbers of bears and small white buffaloes frequent those
mountains, which are also inhabited by Indians.” These white buffalo
have been thought to be white goats; probably they were the white sheep
(_Ovis dalli_) which inhabit the mountains to the west of the Mackenzie
River.

The next day more natives were met with, who, as usual, fled on
the approach of the white men. One old man, however, did not run,
but approached the travellers, “and represented himself as too far
advanced in life, and too indifferent about the short time he had to
remain in the world, to be very anxious about escaping from any danger
that threatened him; at the same time, he pulled his gray hairs from
his head by handfuls to distribute among us, and implored our favor
for himself and for his relations. Our guide, however, at length
removed his fears, and persuaded him to recall the fugitives, who
consisted of eighteen people.” These joyfully received the presents
of beads, knives, and awls, which were offered them, and overwhelmed
the explorers with hospitable attentions, giving them food, which was
gladly accepted. They told of dangers to be met with farther down the
river, and some of the natives accompanied Mackenzie’s people to point
out the safest channel of the rapids, which they declared to be just
beyond; but as a matter of fact there were no rapids. The river was
about three hundred yards broad, and Mackenzie’s soundings gave fifty
fathoms of water.

Along the river there were almost continuous encampments of Indians,
all of whom were spoken to, and all of whom traded food, such as hares,
ptarmigan and fish, to the travellers. The last parties met with were
Hare Indians, who told wonderful stories of danger and of fearful
things to be met on the river; and these terrors were not distant, for
according to the Indians, behind an island opposite their camp dwelt a
spirit in the river which swallowed every person that approached it.
Unfortunately, Mackenzie had no time to cross to the island, to see
whether it would swallow him.

The people met a little farther along were more attractive than those
seen earlier, many of whom had been sick, while these were “healthy,
full of flesh, and clean in their persons.” Their ornaments and
utensils did not differ greatly from those farther up the river. They
had a little iron, which they obtained from the Eskimos; their arrows
were made of very light wood, and winged with two feathers, while their
bows were of Eskimo type, made of two pieces spliced with sinew. Their
shirts were not cut square at the bottom, but tapered to a point from
the belt downward as low as the knee, before and behind, and these
points were fringed. Over the breast, back, and shoulders their shirts
were also fringed, the fringe being ornamented with the stone of a
berry, which was drilled and run on each string of the fringe. The
sleeves of the shirts were short and wide, and long mittens covered
their hands and arms. Their leggings were like trousers, and the shoes
sewed to the leggings.

These people told them that it would take ten more nights to reach the
sea, but after three nights they would meet the Eskimo. The reports
of some guns discharged as the canoes pushed off greatly alarmed
the Indians, and the guide that they had hired at this place seemed
inclined to leave them, until advised that the noise was a signal of
friendship. The guide and two of his companions who accompanied them on
their journey were merry fellows, singing not only their native songs,
but others in imitation of the Eskimos. Not satisfied with singing,
their guide proceeded to dance, and transferring himself to the white
men’s canoe, he danced in it, to their no small alarm lest it should be
upset.

Mackenzie now began to be a little uneasy, for his provisions were
growing scant, his hunters discouraged, and his men generally seemed
anxious to return. Some of them declared that they must turn back,
and the explorer was obliged to satisfy them by the assurance that he
would go forward only seven days more, and if he did not then reach the
sea, would return. They had now reached latitude 68°, and the sun was
continually above the horizon. On the 11th they met an abandoned camp
of Indians, where were seen parts of the fragments of three canoes,
and places where oil had been spilt. Later, an Eskimo hut was found,
and about it a great deal of property. Now, they began to see fresh
tracks of the Eskimos on the beach. According to their guide, they
were approaching a large lake, where the Eskimos lived, and in which
they killed large fish found there, which Mackenzie presumed must be
whales. White bears, and other large animals not identified from the
description, were told of, as well as the Eskimo canoes, which could
conveniently carry four or five families.

On the 12th, in the morning, they landed where there were four huts.
“The adjacent land is high and covered with short grass and flowers,
though the earth was not thawed above four inches from the surface,
beneath which was a solid body of ice. This beautiful appearance,
however, was strongly contrasted with the ice and snow that was seen
in the valleys. The soil, where there is any, is a yellow clay mixed
with stones. These huts appear to have been abandoned during the last
winter, and we had reason to think that some of the natives had been
lately there, as the beach was covered with the tracks of their feet.
Many of the runners and bars of their sledges were laid together
near the houses in a manner that seemed to denote the return of the
proprietors. There were also pieces of netting made of sinews, and
some of bark of the willow. A thread of the former was platted, and no
ordinary portion of time must have been employed in manufacturing so
great a length of cord. A square stone kettle with a flat bottom also
occupied our attention, which was capable of containing two gallons;
and we were puzzled as to the means these people must have employed to
have chiselled it out of a solid rock into its present form.”

When they had satisfied their curiosity they were about to re-embark,
but were puzzled to know where they should go or what channel they
should take. The lake was quite open to them to the westward, and
the water very shallow, so much so that it was impossible to go very
close to the shore. They therefore went to an island, where they
camped, and, having set the net, Mackenzie and his interpreter climbed
to the highest part of the island, from which they discovered solid
ice, extending from the south-west by compass to the north and to the
eastward. To the east were many islands.

As they passed along, on their walk of exploration, they came upon a
number of white partridges, now becoming brown--the ptarmigan--and
beautiful plover, which were breeding. There were also white owls, and
presently they came upon an Eskimo grave.

Even the Indians and the Canadians, seeing that the time for turning
back had almost come, began to regret that they must return without
coming to the sea, not knowing that they were already upon it. For
the next two or three nights they were several times obliged to move
the baggage to keep the water from flowing about it, and at last
Mackenzie concluded that this was the tide that was rising and falling.
One morning many large animals were seen in the water, and Mackenzie
recognized them as whales, and ordered the canoe to start in pursuit.
Fortunately, just at this time a fog arose and the whales were not
overtaken. These were white whales, and, the Indian guide stated, were
one of the principal sources of food for the Eskimo.

All Mackenzie’s efforts to meet these northern people failed, and on
Thursday, the 16th of July, the canoes entered the river and began the
return journey. They were still subsisting largely on the wild fowl
that the Indians killed and the fish that they took in their nets, and
these were barely enough to support them. Indeed, on some days the wild
fowl were so shy that they could not be approached, and this obliged
them to draw more or less on their store of provisions. However, on the
18th, and before they had gotten away from the country of the Eskimos,
the hunters killed two reindeer, a very fortunate addition to their
supply of food. But this killing of the reindeer was not without its
unfortunate side, for it so alarmed their guide that he deserted that
night. However, geese were plenty, and on the following day the hunters
killed twenty-two, and the next day fifteen, and four swans.

They were now obliged to resort to the laborious and slow towing-line
to ascend the river. They met a party of Indians, among whom was the
brother of the guide who had recently deserted, and Mackenzie sat up
all night to watch them. They were greatly interested when they saw him
writing, wondering what he was doing. As the night drew on, some women
came from the forest to the camp, and after remaining for a short time,
went away. “Those who remained immediately kindled a small fire and
layed themselves down to sleep around it, like so many whelps, having
neither skins nor garments of any kind to cover them, notwithstanding
the cold that prevailed. My people having placed their kettle of meat
on the fire, I was obliged to guard it from the natives, who made
several attempts to possess themselves of its contents; and this was
the only instance I had hitherto discovered of their being influenced
by a pilfering disposition. It might perhaps be a general opinion that
provisions were a common property.”

From here they continued to tow the canoe up the river. Some Indian
huts seen were built of drift-wood. On the slope of the beach, and on
the inside, earth was dug away to form a level floor. Within these
huts were drying scaffolds, covered with split fish, and fires made
in different parts of the hut warmed and dried the air, and hastened
the operation of drying. The Indians, probably the Loucheux, an
Athabascan tribe, told him of the Eskimos who dressed like themselves,
wore their hair short, and had two holes perforated, one on each
side of the mouth, in line with the under lip, on which they placed
long beads--the labrets, so well known as ornaments of the primitive
Eskimos. They reported the animals of their country to be reindeer,
bears, wolverines, martens, foxes, hares, and white buffaloes--white
sheep (_Ovis dalli_)--and that the latter were only to be found in the
mountains to the westward.

On the journey up the river the towing-line was much in use, but often,
when the wind was north, it was possible to use the sail. For six
days on this southward journey the party had not touched any of their
provision stores, but in this time, Mackenzie says, they had consumed
two reindeer, four swans, forty-five geese, and a considerable quantity
of fish. “I have always observed that the northmen possessed very
hearty appetites, but they were much exceeded by those with me since we
entered this river. I should really have thought it absolute gluttony
in my people, if my own appetite had not increased in a similar
proportion.”

He now began to hear, from the people whom he met, of a great river to
the west of the one he was travelling on, and beyond the mountains,
perhaps the Yukon or the Fraser. But the country through which this
river ran was inhabited by strange creatures. “The Indians represented
them as being of gigantic stature and adorned with wings, which,
however, they never employed in flying; that they fed on large birds,
which they killed with the greatest ease, though common men would be
certain victims of their voracity if they ventured to approach them.
They also described the people that inhabited the mouth of the river
as possessing the extraordinary power of killing with their eyes, and
devouring a large beaver at a single meal. They added that canoes of
very large dimensions visited that place. These tales, however, they
told not of their own knowledge, but from reports of other tribes.”

It was at this camp that Mackenzie was obliged to shoot an Indian dog,
which it was impossible to keep from interfering with his baggage,
which, of course, contained the provisions. “It was in vain that I had
remonstrated on this subject, so that I was obliged to commit the act
which is just mentioned. When these people heard the report of the
pistol, and saw the dog dead, they were seized with a very great alarm,
and the women took the children on their backs and ran into the woods.
I ordered the cause of this act of severity to be explained, with the
assurance that no injuries would be offered to themselves. The woman,
however, to whom the dog belonged was very much affected, and declared
that the loss of five children during the preceding winter had not
affected her so much as the death of this animal; but her grief was not
of very long duration, and a few beads, etc., soon assuaged her sorrow.”

On the way up the river, August 2, small springs of mineral water were
observed, as well as lumps of iron ore, and finally a “coal mine,”
or bed of lignite, on fire. The beach was covered with coal, and the
English Chief gathered some of it to be used as a black dye, to color
porcupine quills. A little farther on the Indian hunters killed a
beaver, whose fur was now beginning to grow long. Tracks of moose and
reindeer were seen, but all of them old. Since the weather was growing
cooler the reindeer would now leave the plains to come into the woods,
for the mosquitoes were beginning to disappear. Though the river had
fallen much the current was still very strong, and the work difficult.
The weather was cold, and now their violent exercise scarcely kept
them warm. The women constantly remained in the canoes, making
moose-skin moccasins for the men, who as constantly wore them out, a
pair lasting not more than one day.

On the 7th they saw two reindeer on the beach before them, but the
Indians, quarrelling to see which should be the first to get near
them, alarmed the deer, which ran away. However, a female reindeer was
killed, whose legs showed wounds, and it was supposed that she had
been pursued by wolves, which devoured her young one. One of the young
Indians took her udder, which was full of milk, and, squeezing it over
some boiled corn, ate the mixture with great relish.

On the 10th, accompanied by one of his young Indians, Mackenzie
strove without success to reach the mountains which were seen on the
south-west of the river.

For the last few days the hunters had been unsuccessful, killing only a
beaver, a few hares, and a few water-fowl, but on the 13th they reached
the island where they had hidden their pemmican on the way down, and
raising the cache, found themselves once more in plenty. A little later
they saw another camp of Indians, who, very much frightened, drew their
canoes up on the beach and fled to the woods, leaving much of their
property behind them. This was pounced upon by Mackenzie’s Indians,
and he took his interpreter severely to task for their conduct. This
brought on a more or less violent dispute, in the course of which the
English Chief declared that he would accompany Mackenzie no farther,
but would leave him and remain here. The Indian and all his relations
wept bitterly, but after a few hours Mackenzie persuaded him to
continue the journey, and propitiated him by a gift of rum.

On the 17th and 18th of August the hunters were more successful, and on
the last day the English Chief killed a buffalo, while a few water-fowl
were brought in daily. They now found signs of a Cree encampment and
presently reached the entrance of Slave Lake. Coasting around this,
often in heavy weather, they came upon Mr. Le Roux, from the fort
there, and found that he had been somewhat successful in trading for
skins, having five packs, principally of marten. Large game seemed
abundant here, and the tracks of buffalo, moose, and reindeer were
seen. On August 30 they reached Mr. Le Roux’s house.

Here Mackenzie’s Indians left him, on the ground that he travelled
too fast for them and that they feared they should be drowned if they
followed so reckless a sailor. Mr. Le Roux’s establishment was left on
the 31st of August, and twelve days later, after many difficulties from
storm and cold, they reached Fort Chipewyan, having concluded a voyage
which had occupied one hundred and two days.




CHAPTER VI

ALEXANDER MACKENZIE

II


On October 10, 1792, Alexander Mackenzie left Fort Chipewyan to
proceed up Peace River, his purpose being to go up the stream so far
as the season would permit, and, wintering wherever he must, to cross
the mountains at its head and continue westward, if possible, to the
Pacific Ocean.

Peace River takes its name from the settlement of their differences at
Peace Point by the Knisteneaux and Beaver Indians. “When this country
was formerly invaded by the Knisteneaux they found the Beaver Indians
inhabiting the land about the Portage La Loche; and the adjoining
tribes were those whom they called Slaves. They drove both these tribes
before them, when the latter proceeded down the river from the Lake of
the Hills, in consequence of which that part of it obtained the name
of the Slave River. The former proceeded up the river, and when the
Knisteneaux made peace with them, this place was settled to be the
boundary.”

As they proceeded, the weather was so cold and raw as to make travel
unpleasant, but on the afternoon of October 17 they reached the falls,
where there were two considerable portages, and where they found recent
fires, showing that the canoes that Mackenzie had despatched some days
before were not far ahead.

On the 19th they reached what is termed the Old Establishment, an early
fort, and found that the people preceding them had slept there the
previous night, and had carelessly set the large house on fire. But for
Mackenzie’s arrival all the buildings would have been destroyed. On
either side of Peace River here were extensive plains, which offered
pasturage to great herds of buffalo.

The next morning they reached the fort, and were received with shouts
of rejoicing and volleys from the guns, by the Indians, who now
expected rum and a carouse. About three hundred Indians belonged here,
who, though apparently Chipewyan by race, had adopted the manners and
customs of their former enemies, the Crees. The contrast between the
neat and decent appearance of the men and the very disagreeable looks
of the women was striking. After staying here only long enough to give
some advice and presents to the Indians and his instructions to Mr.
Findlay, he kept on up the river. It was constantly growing colder and
the ice gave some trouble, but on November 1 he reached the place where
he expected to winter.

Two men had been sent forward in the spring to cut and square timber
for the erection of a house, and about seventy Indians had joined
them. The men had worked well, and prepared timber enough for a
considerable fort, as well as a ditch in which to set up the palisades
of a stockade. Experience at the Old Establishment had shown that many
vegetables would grow well in this soil and climate, but this was no
time to think about gardening. What was more important was the fact
that the plains on either side of the river abounded in buffalo, elk,
wolves, foxes, and bears, while a ridge of highlands or mountains to
the westward was inhabited by great numbers of deer, being called Deer
Mountain.

As with all traders, Mackenzie’s first business was to call the Indians
together and give them some rum, tobacco, and advice. They listened to
the advice, drank the rum, and smoked the tobacco, promising everything
that he asked.

On the 22d of November--although the side-head giving the date in the
printed volume says December--the river froze up, so that the hunters
had a bridge on which to cross. Game was plenty, yet but for this means
of crossing the stream they might have suffered from lack of food. It
was here the practice of medicine was forced on Mackenzie. By means of
simple remedies and by close personal attention to each case he cured a
number of severe ailments among the Indians.

Of one of these he says: “On my arrival here last fall, I found that
one of the young Indians had lost the use of his right hand by the
bursting of a gun, and that his thumb had been maimed in such a manner
as to hang only by a small strip of flesh. Indeed, when he was brought
to me his wound was in such an offensive state and emitted such a
putrid smell that it required all the resolution I possessed to examine
it. His friends had done everything in their power to relieve him,
but as it consisted only in singing about him and blowing upon his
hand, the wound, as may be well imagined, had got into the deplorable
state in which I found it. I was rather alarmed at the difficulty of
the case, but as the young man’s life was in a state of hazard, I was
determined to risk my surgical reputation, and accordingly took him
under my care. I immediately formed a poultice of bark, stripped from
the roots of the spruce fir, which I applied to the wound, having
first washed it with the juice of the bark. This proved a very painful
dressing. In a few days, however, the wound was clean and the proud
flesh around it destroyed. I wished very much in this state of the
business to have separated the thumb from the hand, which I well knew
must be effected before the cure could be performed, but he would not
consent to that operation till, by the application of vitriol, the
flesh by which the thumb was suspended was shrivelled almost to a
thread. When I had succeeded in this object I perceived that the wound
was closing rather faster than I had desired. The salve I applied on
the occasion was made of the Canadian balsam, wax, and tallow dropped
from a burning candle into water. In short, I was so successful that
about Christmas my patient engaged in an hunting party, and brought
me the tongue of an elk; nor was he finally ungrateful. When he left
me I received the warmest acknowledgments, both from himself and the
relations with whom he departed, for my care of him. I certainly did
not spare my time or attention on the occasion, as I regularly dressed
the wound three times a day during the course of a month.”

Just before Christmas, Mackenzie moved from his tent into his house,
and now began the erection of houses for the men. Long before this the
thermometer had been down far below zero, yet the men had been lying
out in the cold and snow without any shelter except an open shed. “It
would be considered by the inhabitants of a milder climate as a great
evil to be exposed to the weather at this rigorous season of the year,
but these people are inured to it, and it is necessary to describe in
some measure the hardships which they undergo without a murmur, in
order to convey a general notion of them.

“The men who were now with me left this place in the beginning of
last May and went to the Rainy Lake in canoes, laden with packs of
fur, which, from the immense length of the voyage and other occurring
circumstances, is a most severe trial of patience and perseverance;
there they do not remain a sufficient time for ordinary repose, when
they take a load of goods in exchange, and proceed on their return, in
a great measure, day and night. They had been arrived near two months,
and all that time had been continually engaged in very toilsome labor,
with nothing more than a common shed to protect them from the frost and
snow. Such is the life which these people lead, and is continued with
unremitting exertion till their strength is lost in premature old age.”

Mackenzie was now receiving plenty of beaver from the Indians. But, on
the other hand, he was not without the usual annoyances to which the
fur trader was exposed. The Indians showed a tendency to quarrel among
themselves, especially over their gambling at the platter game, which
is a sort of throwing of dice, the same, apparently, as the seed game,
so common among all the Indians of the plains. On the whole, however,
the winter passed quietly, and geese were seen on the 13th of March.

In closing his account of this winter, passed high up on Peace River,
Mackenzie gives some account of the Beaver and Rock Mountain Indians
living there, who, he says, did not exceed 150 men capable of bearing
arms. As late as 1786, when the first traders from Canada arrived on
the banks of the Peace River, the natives employed bows and snares,
but since then they had become well armed, bows were little used, and
snares were unknown. These Indians were excellent hunters and such hard
workers in the field that they were extremely lean, being always in
the best of training. When a relation died the men blackened the face,
cut off their hair, and gashed their arms with knives and arrows. The
women often cut off a finger at the death of a favorite son, husband,
or father. The Indians told of a time when no timber grew on the hills
and plains along Peace River, but they were covered with moss, and the
reindeer was the only animal. As the timber spread on them, elk and
buffalo made their appearance, and the reindeer retired to the range of
highlands called Deer Mountain.

The month of April passed, and early in May Mackenzie loaded six canoes
with the furs and provisions he had purchased, and despatched them
to Fort Chipewyan. He, however, retained six of the men, who agreed
to accompany him up Peace River on his western voyage of discovery,
and left his winter interpreter and another person in charge of the
fort, to supply the natives with their ammunition during the summer.
On the 9th day of May he embarked in a canoe twenty-five feet long,
loaded with about 3,000 pounds of provisions, goods for presents, arms,
ammunition, and baggage, and ten persons, two of whom were hunters and
interpreters.

The first day’s journey was through an interesting and beautiful
country. “From the place which we quitted this morning the west side of
the river displayed a succession of the most beautiful scenery I had
ever beheld. The ground rises at intervals to a considerable height
and stretches inward to a considerable distance; at every interval
or pause in the rise there is a very gently ascending space or lawn,
which is alternate with abrupt precipices to the summit of the whole,
or, at least, as far as the eye could distinguish. This magnificent
theatre of nature has all the decorations which the trees and animals
of the country can afford it; groves of poplars in every shape vary the
scene, and their intervals are enlivened with vast herds of elks and
buffaloes, the former choosing the steeps and uplands, and the latter
preferring the plains. At this time the buffaloes were attended with
their young ones, who were frisking about them; and it appeared that
the elks would soon exhibit the same enlivening circumstance. The whole
country displayed an exuberant verdure; the trees that bear a blossom
were advancing fast to that delightful appearance, and the velvet rind
of their branches reflecting the oblique rays of a rising or setting
sun, added a splendid gaiety to the scene, which no expressions of
mine are qualified to describe. The east side of the river consists
of a range of high land covered with the white spruce and the soft
birch, while the banks abound with the alder and the willow. The water
continued to rise, and the current being proportionately strong, we
made a greater use of setting poles than paddles.”

On the following days camps of Beaver Indians were seen, and Mackenzie
was somewhat anxious lest they should encourage his hunters to desert,
but this did not take place. Game continued abundant, and on the 13th
they saw along the river tracks of large bears, some of which were nine
inches wide. “We saw one of their dens, or winter quarters, called
watee, in an island, which was ten feet deep, five feet high, and six
feet wide, but we had not yet seen one of those animals. The Indians
entertain great apprehension of this kind of bear which is called the
grisly bear, and they never venture to attack it but in a party of at
least three or four.”

The land on both sides of the river was high and irregular, and the
banks and the rocky cliffs exhibited strata of red, green, and yellow
colors. “Some parts, indeed, offer a beautiful scenery, in some degrees
similar to that which we passed on the second day of our voyage, and
equally enlivened with the elk and the buffalo, who were feeding in
great numbers and unmolested by the hunter.” The next day they passed
a river, of the mouth of which Mackenzie says: “This spot would be
an excellent situation for a fort or factory, as there is plenty of
wood and every reason to believe that the country abounds in beaver.
As for the other animals, they are in evident abundance, as in every
direction the elk and the buffalo are seen in possession of the hills
and the plains.” Two elks were killed and a buffalo wounded that day.
The land above their camp spread out in an extensive plain, gradually
rising to a high ridge, chiefly grassy, and dotted with poplar and
white birch trees. “The country is so crowded with animals as to have
the appearance, in some places, of a stall-yard, from the state of the
ground and the quantity of dung which is scattered over it. The soil is
black and light. We this day saw two grisly and hideous bears.”

Although the ascent of the river had not been easy and they had
frequently been obliged to unload and repair their canoe, it was not
until Sunday, the 19th, that they met rapids and cascades, which
presented greater difficulties. The canoe was heavily laden, the
current enormously swift, and broken constantly by rocks and shoals;
the only means of advance was by the tow-line, and the beach was
often narrow or wanting. At the beginning of this very difficult
stretch of water they found several islands of solid rock with but
little soil upon them, the rock worn away near the water’s surface,
but unworn higher up, so that the islands presented, as it were, so
many large tables, each of which was supported by a pedestal of a more
circumscribed projection. On these islands geese were breeding.

Carrying over short distances, often crossing the river in a very swift
water, in constant danger from the great stones which frequently fell
from the banks above, and much of the time in the water, they pursued
their way for a short distance over this very difficult passage. The
work was terribly hard, and as far as they could see up the river there
was no improvement of the channel. Therefore, Mackenzie sent out a
party of six men to explore, and on their return that same night they
reported that it was necessary to make a long carry--nine miles they
said--before smooth water would be met with. The canoe was therefore
unloaded, the baggage carried up to the top of the bank above the
river, and then the canoe was fairly hauled up to the same height.
There they camped. In two days’ march from this place, carrying the
load and the canoe, they again met quiet water.

The journal for Thursday, the 23d, enumerates the different sorts
of trees which they saw, among which is named bois-picant, a tree
which Mackenzie had not seen before, but which was apparently the
west-coast shrub--the devil’s club, which grows in a few places on the
eastern slope of the Continental Divide. Although he did not know it,
Mackenzie was now quite close to the summit of the Rocky Mountains.

The river here was wide, flowing in great volume, and very swiftly
but smooth. There were many animals in the country, for their tracks
were seen everywhere; and when Mackenzie left a bundle of presents on
a pole, as a good-will offering to any natives who might pass by, one
of his Indians added to the bundle a small, round piece of green wood,
chewed at one end to form a brush, such as the Indians use to pick out
the marrow from bones. This was the sign of a country with many animals
in it. At a number of points along the river they had found places
where wood had been chopped with axes, showing that the Indians who had
passed along here had had intercourse with the whites.

They were now flanked on both sides by high mountains covered with
snow, and the cold was so severe that the men, although working hard,
could not get along without their blanket coats. On the last day of May
the men were so cold that they landed in order to kindle a fire.

Their great labor, so long continued, had made Mackenzie’s people more
or less discontented. They were tired of the journey and anxious to get
back. Moreover, some wanted to go in one direction and some in another,
and the forking of the river gave rise to open grumbling. However,
Mackenzie handled them well, and they went on. On the 1st of June he
says: “In no part of the Northwest did I see so much beaver-work within
an equal distance as in the course of this day. In some places they
had cut down several acres of large poplars; and we saw also a great
number of these active and sagacious animals. The time which these
wonderful creatures allot for their labors, whether in erecting their
curious habitations or providing food, is the whole of the interval
between the setting and the rising sun.”

Ever since they had started the water in the river had been rising,
since, of course, the advancing summer was melting the snows in the
neighboring mountains and swelling all the streams. On the 5th of June
Mackenzie left the canoe and ascending a high hill or mountain crossed
the country, and climbing a tree looked ahead. He saw little that was
interesting, and on returning to the river could see nothing of the
canoe. Made anxious by this, he went forward to see if it was ahead,
sending others of his people back to look for it. He had no food, and
was preparing to lie out during the night when a shot from Mr. Mackay
and the Indian who had been sent back announced that the canoe had been
discovered. His people excused their slow progress by saying that their
canoe had been damaged and that the travel had been harder than on any
previous day, and Mackenzie pretended to believe them. The difficulties
of the way were indeed great. The current was so strong that paddles
could not be used, so deep that the poles were useless, while the bank
of the river was so lined with willows and other trees that it was
impossible to pass the line. The water was still rising and the current
growing stronger. In spite of all these impediments they pushed on,
and were already beginning to look for the carrying-place, where they
should cross the mountains to the stream which ran toward the Pacific.

On Sunday, June 9, they noticed a small fire, and in a short time heard
people in the timber, as if in a state of confusion. The Indians were
frightened by the discovery of the explorer’s party, and the explorer’s
party were not a little alarmed for fear they should be attacked. Very
judiciously Mackenzie turned his canoe off to the opposite side of
the river, and before they were half-way across two men appeared on
the rising ground opposite them, brandishing their spears, displaying
bows and arrows, and shouting. The interpreter called to the Indians,
telling them that the white people were friendly, yet the Indians
preserved a threatening attitude, but after some talk consented to the
landing of the party, though evidently very much frightened. They laid
aside their weapons, and when Mackenzie stepped forward and shook hands
with each of them, one of them, trembling with fear, drew his knife
from his sleeve and offered it to Mackenzie as a mark of submission.

These Indians had heard of white men before, but had never seen any,
and were extremely curious as well as suspicious. They had but just
reached here and had not yet made their camp, but on the discovery of
Mackenzie’s party had run away, leaving their property behind.

The explorer made a great effort to conciliate and to attach them to
him, and during the day the whole party of Indians came in, three men,
three women, and seven or eight boys and girls. They were delighted
with the beads which were given them, and seemed to enjoy the pemmican,
their own provision consisting entirely of dried fish. They possessed
some iron, which they said they obtained from people distant about
eleven days’ march, and that those people travelled for a month to
reach the country of other tribes, who lived in houses and who extended
their journeys to the Stinking Lake, or the ocean, where they traded
with white people, who came in boats as large as islands.

This account discouraged Mackenzie, who feared that the end of his
journey was far distant. However, he continued his efforts to lull the
suspicions of the Indians, and treated them and their children with
especial kindness. The next day, sitting about the fire and listening
to the talk of the Indians and interpreters, some portion of which
he could understand, he recognized that one of the Indians spoke of
a great river flowing near the source of the one which they were
ascending, and of portages leading to a small river, which discharged
into the great river; and a little patient work led the Indian to
describe what seemed a practicable route toward the ocean.

These Indians were of low stature, not exceeding five feet six or
seven inches, lean, round-faced, with pierced noses and loose-hanging
hair. They wore robes of the skins of the beaver, the ground-hog, or
the reindeer, dressed with the hair on. Their leggings and moccasins
were of dressed moose, elk, or reindeer skin. They wore collars of
grizzly-bear claws. Their cedar bows were six feet in length, and
bore a short iron spike on one end, and so might be used as a spear
or lance. They also carried lances headed with iron or bone. Their
knives and axes were of iron. They made lines of rawhide, which were
fine and strong, while their nets and fishing-lines were of willow
bark and nettles. Their hooks were of bone set in wood, their kettles
of basketry, their spoons of horn or wood. Their canoes were made of
spruce bark. Among certain presents given Mackenzie before he parted
from these people were a net made of nettles and “a white horn in
the shape of a spoon, which resembles the horn of the buffalo of the
Coppermine River”--by which undoubtedly is meant the musk-ox--“but
their description of the animal to which it belonged does not answer to
that.” This horn was probably that of a mountain sheep.

With a guide engaged from these people Mackenzie pushed on, promising
the Indians that he would return in two months. The journey up the
river was difficult, and the canoe by this time was in bad shape, so
that a little jar caused it to leak, and repairs were frequent. At
length they left the main stream, by the instruction of the guide, who
declared that it began only a short distance away, having its origin in
a great valley which was full of snow, the melting of which supplied
the river. The branch which they went up was only about ten yards
broad and the one they now entered still narrower. The current was
slow, and the channel so crooked that it was sometimes difficult to
work the canoe. Soon they entered a small lake choked with drift-wood,
and camped at an old Indian camp. Beaver were abundant here, as were
swans and geese, but they killed none of them, for fear of alarming any
natives by the discharge of fire-arms. This Mackenzie regarded as the
highest source of the Peace River.

At the head of the lake they found a carry where there was a beaten
path, about eight hundred yards long, to another small lake. From
here two streams were seen tumbling down the rocks from the right and
emptying into the lake that they had left, while two others, falling
from the opposite side, poured into the lake they were approaching.
Now they had crossed the Continental Divide, and instead of fighting
with the current they would be going down the stream. We may imagine
something of what Mackenzie’s feelings must have been when he had
surmounted the Divide and saw before him a direct passage to the
western ocean. But his troubles were by no means over.

From the lake they passed into a small river, full of wood which had
slipped down the mountain side, and which constantly obstructed the
way. At first there was scarcely water enough to float the canoe, but
the water grew deeper, and toward evening they entered another lake.
Its outlet was very swift, and they had difficulty in keeping the canoe
from being driven against the trees which had fallen across it.

Men sent ahead down the river to report on its practicability came back
with terrible stories of rapids, fallen trees, and large stones. The
guide was now very uncomfortable, and wished to return, but this, of
course, was not permitted.

[Illustration: MACKENZIE AND THE MEN JUMPED OVERBOARD.]

After carrying around the nearest obstacles they pushed off again, but
the force of the current was so great as to drive the canoe sideways
down the river again and break her. Mackenzie and the men jumped
overboard, but before they could straighten her course or stop her
they came to deeper water, and were obliged to re-embark, one man
being left behind in the river. Almost immediately they drove against
a rock, which shattered the stern of the canoe, and now the vessel
darted to the other side of the river and the bow was smashed as well
as the stern. The foreman tried to check her by holding to branches of
a tree, but was pulled out of the canoe and ashore. A moment later she
struck some rocks, which broke several large holes in the bottom, and
in a moment every one was overboard trying to hold up the wreck. The
strength of the current, however, forced them down the stream several
hundred yards, but at last the vessel was guided into shallow water,
and an eddy, and there stopped and dragged to shore. In a short time
the man that they had left behind joined them, and they were now able
to see what their condition was. They had lost some of their baggage
and the whole of their stock of balls, but they still had some lead
in the form of shot, from which bullets might be made. The men were
frightened and anxious to get back, but a liberal dose of rum with a
hearty meal and some encouraging words from their leader quieted
their fears, and made them willing to go on. Men were sent off to look
for bark with which to repair the canoe and also to look for the main
river, which their guide told them was not far distant. These men came
back with unsatisfactory reports, declaring that the river they were
following was quite impracticable, while they had not been able to see
the other larger river.

The next day the canoe, having been repaired, was lightened and a part
of the men took her slowly down the river, while the remainder carried
the baggage along the shore. It was evident that this stream could not
be followed much farther, and again exploring parties were sent out to
see if the great river could not be found. They saw it, but declared
that to reach it would be very difficult. That night Mackenzie, as
usual, sat up to watch the guide, so that he should not desert, but Mr.
Mackay, who relieved him, permitted the man to slip away, and he was
not seen again. The river that they were descending became more and
more swift and rough, and was, in fact, wholly impracticable. It was
now determined to cut a way for the canoe across a neck of the land,
and at eight o’clock that night they had the inexpressible satisfaction
of finding themselves “on the bank of a navigable river on the western
side of the first great range of mountains.”

Rain the next morning postponed their start until eight o’clock, when
they were on the water and driven by a strong current, which, though
it carried them along swiftly, was perfectly safe, since the river
seemed deep. The stream was constantly joined by other rivers, and
after a time it broadened out and the current became slow, so that
they proceeded with more deliberation. An Indian cabin of recent
construction was seen on the shore, and toward night a smoke on the
bank indicated natives.




CHAPTER VII

ALEXANDER MACKENZIE

III


The next day the forests seemed to be on fire, since clouds of thick
smoke rose from the wood with a strong odor of burning resin. On the
afternoon of June 19 they saw smoke on the shore, but before they
could reach land the natives had deserted their camp. Mackenzie sent
his Indians after them, but they were threatening and discharged five
arrows which, however, did no harm. They had left some property behind
them which the men desired to take with them. A few things were taken
and some useful implements were left in exchange. The next morning
they were off early in a fog, and saw two “red deer” at the edge of
the water. Another was seen and might have been killed, but for the
dog which frightened it. These, Mackenzie says, are “not so large as
the elk of the Peace River, but are the real red deer, which I never
saw in the north, though I have been told that they are to be found in
great numbers in the plains.” Here the natives had stripped the bark
from many of the spruce-trees, presumably to roof their cabins. A
house was seen thirty feet long and twenty wide, evidently intended for
occupation by more than one family.

The constant accidents to which their canoe had been subjected, and
the carrying it from place to place, had so racked and broken it that
it seemed almost hopeless to go farther in it. On Friday, the 22d,
Mackenzie, recognizing the possibility that on his return he might have
nothing to eat, made a cache of ninety pounds of pemmican in a deep
hole, over which a fire was built.

The next day, as they went on, they saw a small canoe drawn up to the
edge of the woods, and soon after another came out from a small river.
The man who was in it called to his friends, who at once appeared
on the bank, armed with bows, arrows and spears. Although they were
evidently much alarmed, they were very threatening in their gestures,
and let fly a volley of arrows, which did no harm. Mackenzie landed on
the other side of the river and stopped there, his interpreters trying
to pacify the Indians, but without success. Two men went off in a canoe
down the river, apparently to procure assistance. Mackenzie, now having
taken the precaution to send one of his Indians with a gun into the
woods to keep within easy reach of them and to shoot any one who might
attack him, walked along the beach and invited the Indians to come over
and see him, while his interpreter declared to them that these people
were his friends. At length two natives came over in a canoe, but
stopped a hundred yards from the shore. Mackenzie signalled to them to
come to land, showing them various articles which might be attractive,
such as looking-glasses, beads, and other things. Very slowly they
drew nearer to the shore, but at first would not venture to land. At
last they came near enough to get some beads, and were persuaded to
come ashore and to sit down. It was found that his interpreters could
talk with these people, but though Mackenzie tried to persuade them to
come to his canoe they did not wish to, and asked his permission to go
back to their own side of the river. This he granted, and their return
to their friends was evidently a matter of great rejoicing, while the
articles that they took back with them were examined with the greatest
curiosity. After a little time the white men were asked to come over
to their side, which they did. The Indians were still timid, but the
distribution of a few trinkets among them and a little sugar to the
children seemed to strengthen their confidence.

These people reported that the river ran to the south and that at its
mouth white people were said to be building houses. There were rapids
and falls and also very terrible people along the shores; people who
lived in underground houses, and who might do them great harm. The
night was spent here.

Still travelling in his crazy canoe, Mackenzie kept on. Before long he
came to a camp, the Indians of which, as usual, threatened, but the new
friends made the day before soon set their fears at rest. Among the
Indians here was a Rocky Mountain captive, taken by the Crees, who had
carried her across the mountains, but she had escaped from them, and in
the effort to return to her own people had been captured by the tribe
with whom she was now living. As he saw more and more of these natives
he found not a few people from the Rocky Mountains with whom his own
hunters could perfectly well converse, and under these circumstances he
did everything in his power to learn about the course of the river down
which he was passing. There was evidently a considerable trade between
the coast and the upper country, for iron, brass, copper, and beads
were had from the west.

Mackenzie now had remaining about thirty days’ provisions, and not more
than one hundred and fifty balls, with about thirty pounds of shot,
which also might be used for balls, though with considerable waste. He
was somewhat doubtful what to do, not only on account of the shortness
of his supplies, but because of the great length of time that it would
take him to journey to the sea and return. If he went to the coast
by this river it would seem impossible to reach Athabaska the same
season. He now called a council and asked the advice of his people,
saying that he wished to try to reach the ocean overland, because he
thought it would be a saving of time, but declared that he would not
attempt to do this, but would go by water unless they would agree that
if the land journey proved impracticable they would return with him
and continue the voyage to the discharge of the waters, whatever the
distance might be. The men were most loyal, and all declared that they
would follow him wherever he should go. He now set out to go back up
the river to that point which should seem nearest to the seashore.
Their guide preferred to travel on the shore, and although Mackenzie
did not greatly like this, he thought it unwise to oppose him. The next
day, as some of the men were walking along the shore with the guide,
they met some Indians who threatened them. The guide ran away, and
Mackenzie’s people kept with him. Finally the guide escaped from them
and the people returned to their leader. Every one was now greatly
alarmed, no one understanding what had happened, nor why the Indians
were frightened, or enraged, whichever it might be. Mackenzie’s people
were absolutely panic-stricken, and it was all he could do to hold
them together. They selected a position calculated for defence and
distributed arms and ammunition.

Now followed a time of great anxiety. A young woman came to the camp,
but they could secure no information from her. That night an old blind
man was captured, returning to the house, having been driven from his
hiding-place in the woods by hunger. He was fed and well treated and
soon gained confidence. Occasionally an Indian was seen on the river
in a canoe, but none of them would approach nor reply to any calls. At
length, Mackenzie decided to leave this place and to continue up the
river. The canoe was absolutely unfit for service, and one man was kept
bailing all the time, to keep her afloat. On the 27th they stopped at
an island where there seemed to be on the mainland trees which would
furnish the proper material for a new canoe, and here they stopped and
built one. Here, too, their guide, who had deserted them at the time of
the panic, returned, claiming great credit for keeping the promise that
he had earlier made to them. On the 1st of July, however, he left them
again, with his companions, and went up the river. The old man they
still had with them, but he was anxious to get away. The canoe having
been completed and proving serviceable, they started up the river from
this island, which they had named Canoe Island. It now seemed necessary
to reduce the rations, again cutting the people down to two meals a
day, which they did not at all like. Their food now consisted chiefly
of the dried roes of fish, boiled with a little flour and grain, so
as to make a substantial and not unpleasant dish. At Canoe Island
flies had been very troublesome, so that Mackenzie says, “During our
stay there we had been most cruelly tormented by flies, particularly
by sand-flies, which I am disposed to consider as the most tormenting
insect of its kind in nature.”

The way up the river was difficult, often impracticable for paddles,
and it was hard to use a tow-line on account of the steepness of the
banks. On July 3 they reached a point which answered to the description
of the place where they should leave the stream to go overland to the
west, and here a river came in, which Mackenzie calls West Road River.
Some of the men thought it would be better to keep on up the stream a
little farther, in the hope of finding an easier crossing, although
at this point there was a beaten trail. They proceeded, therefore,
and before long met their guide, who apparently had twice deserted. He
was accompanied by some other Indians, called Nascud Denee, who were
friendly, and who declared that from their village, a little farther up
the stream, the road to the sea was short.

On reaching the place where they were to leave the river, Mackenzie
cached some pemmican, wild rice, Indian corn, powder, and trade goods,
and also took the canoe out of the water, placed it bottom up on a
platform and protected it as well as possible. They now started on
their foot journey, carrying about four hundred pounds of pemmican, the
instruments, some goods, and their arms and ammunition.

The journey westward was slow and difficult. They met many people,
all of whom were friendly, and when their guide left them, as he did
in a day or two, they succeeded in procuring other guides for short
distances from the various villages that they passed, and went forward
with comparatively little difficulty, although the almost continuous
rain was unpleasant enough. The people whom they met as they proceeded
showed more and more evidences of intercourse with the whites, having
a number of articles obtained by trade. Most of these people seemed
to belong to different small tribes of Athabaskan stock. They seemed
less and less surprised at the appearance of the white men and, while
still more or less astonished at their fire-arms, did not appear to be
frightened by the explosions. Game was so scarce that practically none
was killed, their provisions being largely fish, obtained from the
natives or caught by themselves. The killing one day of two eagles and
three gray partridges is important enough to be mentioned.

Mackenzie describes in considerable detail some of the houses of the
Indians which he passed. He notes also, on July 14, that he had reached
a place where it is the practice of the Indians to burn the bodies of
their dead. On the 15th they fell in with a village of particularly
clean and attractive people, who were on their way to the sea with
articles for trade with the white people. They said that in view of the
fact that the women and children with them could not travel fast it
would be three days before they could reach the end of their journey.
This was welcome news to the explorer.

Before they had gone very far, however, these people changed their
minds, and determined to go to the sea by a different and somewhat
longer route, and so the white men separated from them, having procured
guides from four new Indians, who had just joined the party and
belonged to a tribe Mackenzie had not yet seen.

The way was difficult, full of swamps and fallen timber. Ground-hogs
were seen, and a number of them captured, and before long a deer was
killed. They were now high up in the mountains, and were marching
through the snow. The country became very rough and they travelled
along precipices, while snow-covered peaks frowned on them from above.
On these mountains, according to their guides, were many animals,
which, “from their description, must be wild goats.” The timber grew
very large.

On this day their guide hurried ahead, leaving the laden white people
to follow, and when it grew dark the men were anxious to stop for the
night, but Mackenzie pushed on, and at last reached a village where he
saw fires with people cooking over them. He entered a house and shook
hands, and the people directed him to go to a large house, where he was
cordially received and fed with roasted salmon. A little later they
were regaled on salmon roes, pounded fine, beaten up and flavored with
something bitter, which we may conjecture to have been soap ollalie.
The natives here were capturing salmon with their dip nets and by
weirs. They were kindly and hospitable, and had very strong beliefs and
feelings with regard to their fish. Mackenzie declared that they never
taste flesh, and that one of their dogs having swallowed part of a bone
left at the camp-fire was beaten by his master till he disgorged it. A
bone having been thrown into the river by one of Mackenzie’s people,
a young man dived, brought it up and put it in the fire, and then
proceeded to wash his polluted hands. The chief of the tribe declined
to let the white men have a canoe because they had with them some deer
meat, which, if put in the canoe on their river, would cause the fish
to leave the river, so that the people must starve. Mackenzie asked
what he should do with the meat, and the Indian told him to give it to
a native present who belonged to a tribe of flesh eaters. The canoe was
then loaned them.

These people seemed to belong to a different family from the
Chipewyans; at least Mackenzie says their language appeared to have no
resemblance to that of the Atnahs. Seven natives with two canoes took
the explorers and their baggage down the river. They travelled fast,
and the skill of the Indians greatly impressed Mackenzie, who says: “I
had imagined that the Canadians who accompanied me were the most expert
canoemen in the world, but they are very inferior to these people, as
they themselves acknowledge, in conducting those vessels.”

Just above a village the whole party landed, the Indians preceding the
white men to announce their approach. When they reached the village
they found it in a turmoil, the natives armed and rushing about
apparently in a great state of alarm. There was nothing to do except
to face the music, and Mackenzie walked boldly forward into the midst
of the village, when most of the people laid aside their arms and came
forward to meet them. He shook hands with those nearest to him, when
suddenly an elderly man broke through the crowd and embraced him, as
did also a younger man, the chief’s son. Another son of the old chief
approached, and as Mackenzie stepped forward to shake hands with him
the younger fellow broke the string of a handsome robe of sea-otter
skin which he had on and put it over Mackenzie’s shoulders. The chief
took Mackenzie to his house, and treated him in a most hospitable
manner. He was offered a dish made of the dried inner bark of the
hemlock tree, soaked in fresh salmon oil. Food was plenty here, for
the salmon run was at its height. Fish were drying on lines strung all
about the village. These people were also very careful that nothing
should be done to alarm their fish. They objected to water being
taken from the river in an iron kettle, on the ground that the salmon
disliked the smell of iron. Wooden boxes for holding water were given
the explorers, however. Here were seen panels made of thick cedar
boards, neatly joined and painted with hieroglyphics and figures of
different animals, such as are commonly seen on the coast.

Here Mackenzie was obliged to do some doctoring, and he describes the
methods of the native physicians in treating their patients.

Mackenzie had several times asked the chief for canoes to take the
party to the sea, but his requests had received little attention.
When, however, he tried to take an observation the chief objected,
not, apparently, because the natives were afraid of the instruments,
but because their use might frighten the salmon from that part of
the river. Just as they were about to embark in the large canoe,
forty-five feet long, four feet wide, and three and a half feet in
depth, it was discovered that an axe was missing, and there was a short
halt. Mackenzie’s resolution procured the return of the axe, and they
went on. Villages were seen along the river, and once or twice they
stopped. The people they passed seemed to have more and more articles
of European manufacture, and they treated Mackenzie very well. On the
evening of this day, at a village where they stopped, Mackenzie says,
“I could perceive, personally, the termination of the river and its
discharge into an arm of the sea.”

The Indians now seemed unwilling to go farther, but two of them were
persuaded to keep on, and, taking another canoe, about eight o’clock on
Saturday, July 20, they left the river and reached an arm of the sea.
The tide was out, and the large mud flats, seaweed covered, were bare.
Gulls, eagles, and ducks were seen. The weather was boisterous, and
before long they put ashore in a cove for the night. One of the young
natives here deserted, but, being pursued, was brought back. Since
they had left the river porpoises and sea-otter--or seals--had been
continually in sight. Fresh water was had from streams running down
the mountains, and just after dark the young chief from up the river
came into camp with a large porcupine, which was eagerly devoured by
the half-starved men. The next day they came across three canoes with
fifteen people, one of whom seemed to have had some trouble with white
men not long before. The people they now met were somewhat annoying,
for they begged, pilfered, and seemed to wish to see everything that
the white men possessed. They constantly spoke of a white man named
Macubah, very likely meaning Vancouver, and for the negative distinctly
answered “No, no.”

On the face of a rock at this point Mackenzie inscribed, with
vermilion, a brief note, “Alexander Mackenzie, from Canada, by land,
the 22d July, 1793.” Here also he was able to establish his position
with some exactness, and this done he started to return. At a village
near the mouth of the river a number of people rushed toward Mackenzie,
apparently about to attack him, and it seemed that these were the ones
who had been fired on by the white people not long before. Mackenzie
stood ready with his gun, and the Indians, seeing his attitude, dropped
their knives. There was something of a scuffle, though Mackenzie was
uninjured, and the Indians made off with his hat and cloak. After
a little while, the young chief returning, explained that the men
belonging to the canoes which had met them below in an inlet, had
declared that the white people had killed four of their party. An
explanation that this statement was false brought about a hollow truce,
but relations were still somewhat strained. The Indians brought them
food, however, and gave them setting poles, all of which were paid for.

Mackenzie’s people were very much frightened, and were determined
to leave the canoe and to start on foot over the mountains. So firm
was this resolution that they threw everything that they had, except
their blankets, into the river. Mackenzie, however, with his usual
patience and resolution, set to work to guide them in the right way,
and declaring that, now he had accomplished his object, he had no other
object but the common safety, that he wished to return in the easiest
and safest way, and that one of their party was sick and could not
travel, and that they must stay with him. The result of this was that
his people agreed that they would continue to follow him; but several
of them declared that they would not again enter the canoe, of which
they were much afraid. Five men, therefore, including Mackenzie and the
sick Indian, entered the canoe, and made their slow way up the river.
When they came in sight of a house they saw the young Indian, who had
left them a day or two before, coming toward them with six people in a
canoe. This encouraged them, as showing that the natives who had been
spreading here reports about them had not been listened to. At this
village they were treated well. At the main village above, the old
chief received them as cordially as before, and fed them on fish and
berries.

Farther up the river it appeared that a sick man, to whom Mackenzie
had given some simple remedy, had died, and it was feared that the
death might have been attributed to this remedy. Above this point they
again took to the trail. They were very suspicious of the Indians, as
the Indians were of them, and were constantly alarmed; and a panic in
one party was succeeded by a panic in the other. At other villages
they were kindly received, and various presents were given them, and
Mackenzie devotes many pages to a description of the habits of these
people. When they left the friendly village each man carried about
twenty pounds of fish, and they also had a little flour and some
pemmican. The sick Indian was slightly better, but could not travel
fast, and in crossing rapids or difficult streams Mackenzie carried him
on his back.

It was now the last of July, the weather was warmer, the grass green,
and the wild fruits ripe. High up on the mountains, though, the snow
still clung, and the frost was hard. They were now marching fast, and
as they went along they recovered from time to time the provisions
that they had hid on their westward journey. On the 4th of August they
reached the place where they had left their canoe, and found all their
property in good order. There was not a footprint near their cache.
The Indians whom they met near at hand were frightened at first, but
soon became friendly. Notwithstanding the fact that they had left the
property of the explorer absolutely untouched, they took away from
the camp a variety of small articles, which Mackenzie recovered by
informing them that the salmon, which was their favorite food and
necessary to their existence, came from the sea which belonged to the
white men, and that since at the entrance of the river it was possible
to prevent those fish from coming up it, the white man possessed the
power to starve the Indians and their children. “To avert our anger,
therefore, they must return all the articles which had been stolen from
us. This finesse succeeded.”

On the 6th of August, they embarked in their canoe on their return
journey. The stream was full of salmon, and the work of pushing up the
river was slow and difficult, but they were on the march toward home.
Rains were frequent, but not long continued. On the 15th they reached
the place where the canoe had been wrecked on the 13th of June, and
made unsuccessful search for the bag of balls then lost. The following
day they came to the Continental Divide, and it was here that Mackenzie
had the thought of transferring some living salmon from the head of the
Columbia to that of the Peace River. But, like most of his men, he was
now in pretty bad condition from privation, excessive labor and cold,
and he was unable to carry out the desire. On the 17th they carried
across from the little lake to Peace River, and started down that
stream. The passage was swift, and on the 18th they went down in one
day what it had taken them seven to come up.

They were now again reduced to a short allowance of food, and Mr.
Mackay and the Indians were sent ahead to try and kill something, while
the remainder of the party began to repair the canoe and to carry the
baggage around the rapid, which, on their ascent, they had called Rocky
Mountain Portage. About sunset Mr. Mackay returned with the flesh of
a buffalo, and we may imagine the sensations of these northmen when
they again put their teeth into this familiar food. The journey down
the river continued swift, and they were careful to land at the head
of each rapids and inspect it, but the canoe being light they passed
over most places without difficulty. The hunters killed fat meat, and
Mackenzie gives an idea of the appetites by saying that, in three
meals, ten people and a dog ate up an elk.

On the 23d they were passing through a beautiful country full of
buffalo, and on this day they killed a buffalo and a bear. On the 24th
of August they rounded a point and came in view of the fort. “We threw
out our flag and accompanied it with a general discharge of fire-arms,
while the men were in such spirits, and made such an active use of
their paddles, that we arrived before the two men whom we left here in
the spring could recover their senses to answer us. Thus we landed at
four in the afternoon at the place which we left on the 9th of May.
Here my voyages of discovery terminate. Their toils and their dangers,
their solicitudes and sufferings have not been exaggerated in my
descriptions.... I received, however, the reward of my labors, for they
were crowned with success.”




CHAPTER VIII

LEWIS AND CLARK

I


Most famous of all the pathfinders of the United States are Lewis
and Clark, explorers of the Missouri River to its headwaters, and of
the Columbia from the heads of some of its chief tributaries to the
Pacific; and thus the spanners of the continent. They were not, it
is true, the first to traverse the wilderness which lay between the
Atlantic and the Pacific, but of those who bore the name American they
were the first.

In 1803 Louisiana was ceded by France to the United States for the sum
of about fifteen millions of dollars; but its boundaries were entirely
uncertain, and neither the nation which sold nor that which bought knew
what this territory included, how far it extended north or south or
west, nor who nor what were its inhabitants. It was certain that there
were a few French, Spaniards, and Creoles, besides some Americans,
English, and Germans, and the slaves which they possessed. Little was
known of the country, save for a short distance beyond the Mississippi
River; and it was obviously important to the new owners of the land to
find out at once what the purchase meant to the United States.

One thing seemed certain: the population of the United States, which
had already spread far beyond the Allegheny Mountains, was constantly
increasing and constantly pushing westward. The encroachments of the
whites on the territory occupied by various tribes of the Indians were
continual, and the Indians, naturally enough, resented, and sometimes
resisted, these encroachments. Here, west of the Mississippi River, was
a vast territory, unoccupied save by Indian tribes, many of which were
wanderers. The population of this unoccupied territory was so sparse
that no doubt it seemed to President Jefferson that here was room for
all the Indians east of the Mississippi, and one of his first acts
after the cession was concluded, was to attempt to learn what he could
with regard to the occupancy of this territory, presumably in the hope
that all the Indians east of the Mississippi might be persuaded to move
westward beyond the river.

Besides this, Jefferson had already--more than ten years
before--endeavored to send out men to cross the continent to the
Pacifice coast, but the effort had failed. But in January, 1803, before
the completion of the purchase of Louisiana, he attempted this once
more, recommending to Congress the despatching of a party to trace the
Missouri River to its source, and to go thence to the Pacific Ocean.

It is impossible for any man now living to conceive what such an
expedition must have meant to the men who were to command it. Here was
a vast and unknown territory of indefinite width, peopled by unknown
inhabitants, uncertain as to its food supply, containing unknown
dangers and obstacles, which must be crossed on foot--though the
journey should be begun by boat. It is true that the rumors long before
brought back from the upper Mississippi Valley by Carver suggested
waterways across the continent, but these were no more than rumors,
and were mingled with an amount of fable which cast doubt on the whole
story.

Carver’s reflections on the Shining Mountains, already quoted, were the
most definite statements that Jefferson or his explorers could have
had of that far Western country. It is true that a few Hudson’s Bay
men had already penetrated as far west as the Rocky Mountains, which
Mackenzie had crossed ten years before, yet it may be doubted whether
any definite knowledge of this great achievement had as yet reached
Washington.

The journey which Lewis and Clark were to make was into a wilderness
less known than any that we in our day can conceive of.

The two men prepared to carry out their orders and there is no reason
to suppose that they felt any doubt of their own success. Both came of
good, old-fashioned fighting and exploring stock and they and all their
men were made of the stuff which constituted the old-time Americans.
Theirs was the sturdy independence, the unshrinking courage and dogged
perseverance in the face of difficulty which gave to America its
Daniel Boone, its David Crockett, and its Zebulon M. Pike; and they set
out with eagerness on their journey.

The expedition started late in the year 1803, and proceeded up the
river by boat. There were about forty-five men at the start, of
whom twenty-five were soldiers, the whole company being enlisted as
soldiers a little later. The baggage of the outfit consisted chiefly of
ammunition, together with goods to be used as presents for the Indians.
The transportation consisted of boats; one a keel boat, fifty-five feet
long, drawing three feet of water, fitted for twenty-two oars and a
sail; the other two were pirogues, open boats, dug-outs no doubt, one
of six, the other of seven oars. There were two horses, which were to
be taken along the bank for the purpose of hunting in time of scarcity,
or for bringing in game that was killed.

Having wintered at Wood River, in Illinois, the start was made on the
14th of May, 1804. At first their progress was not rapid. Nevertheless,
before long they came to the country of the Osages. The story given of
the origin of the tribe is worth repeating: “According to universal
belief, the founder of the nation was a snail, passing a quiet
existence along the banks of the Osage, till a high flood swept him
down to the Missouri and left him exposed on the shore. The heat of the
sun at length ripened him into a man; but with the change of his nature
he had not forgotten his native seats on the Osage, toward which he
immediately bent his way. He was, however, soon overtaken by hunger
and fatigue, when, happily, the Great Spirit appeared and, giving him a
bow and arrow, showed him how to kill and cook deer, and cover himself
with the skin. He then proceeded to his original residence; but as he
approached the river he was met by a beaver, who inquired, haughtily,
who he was and by what authority he came to disturb his possession.
The Osage answered that the river was his own, for he had once lived
on its borders. As they stood disputing, the daughter of the beaver
came, and having by her entreaties reconciled her father to this young
stranger, it was proposed that the Osage should marry the young beaver
and share with her family the enjoyment of the river. The Osage readily
consented, and from this happy union there soon came the village and
the nation of the Wasbasha, or Osages, who have ever since preserved a
pious reverence for their ancestors, abstaining from the chase of the
beaver, because in killing that animal they killed a brother of the
Osage.”

Struggling on northward, Lewis and Clark passed the Otoes and
Missourias, and on June 25 reached the mouth of the Kansas--named from
the Indians living on its banks--three hundred and forty miles from the
Mississippi. Game was abundant, and there are allusions to deer, elk,
and buffalo. At the mouth of the Platte River they sent out messengers
to bring in Indians, since a portion of their duty was to endeavor to
make peace among the different tribes they met with. Otoes and Pawnees
lived not far off, one of the Pawnee villages being then on the Platte,
while another was on the Republican, and a third on the Wolf--now
known as the Loup River. Incidental reference is here made to several
tribes which wandered and hunted on the heads of the Platte River, and
thence to the Rocky Mountains.

One of these, called the Staitan or Kite Indians, is said to have
acquired the name of Kite from their flying; that is, from “their
being always on horseback.” These Indians were, of course, the
Suhtai--_Suhtai_, tribal name, and _hētăn_, man. In other words, when
some Indian was asked his name or the name of his tribe, he replied: “I
am a man of the Suhtai,” and this the explorers supposed was a tribal
name. At that time the tribe was still living as an independent tribe,
though about a generation later they joined the Cheyennes and finally
became absorbed by them. So complete is this absorption that the Suhtai
language, formerly a well-marked dialect of the Cheyenne, differing
from it apparently almost as much as the Arikara dialect differs from
the Pawnee, has been almost wholly lost. At the present day only a few
of the older Cheyennes can recall any of its words. These Indians were
said to be extremely ferocious, and the most warlike of all the Western
Indians; they never yielded in battle, nor spared their enemies,
and the retaliation for this barbarity had almost extinguished the
nation. After these, according to our authors, come the Wetapahato and
Kiawa tribes, associated together, and amounting to two hundred men.
Wetapahato is the Sioux name for the Kiowas, which the Cheyennes have
abbreviated to Witapat. Other tribes are mentioned, hardly now to be
identified.

On July 31 a party of Otoe and Missouria Indians came to their camp,
and on the following day a council was held, at which presents, medals,
and other ornaments were given to the Indians. The point where this
council was held was given the name Council Bluffs, and it stands
to-day across the river from Omaha, Nebraska. A little farther up the
river they reached an old Omaha village, once consisting of three
hundred cabins, but it had been burned about 1799, soon after the
small-pox had destroyed four hundred men and a proportion of the women
and children. This dread disease gave the Omahas the worst blow that
they had ever received, and, perhaps even as much as their wars with
the Pawnees, reduced them to a tributary people. On August 16, two
parties were sent out to catch fish on a little stream. “They made
a drag with small willows and bark, and swept the creek; the first
company brought three hundred and eighteen, and the second upward of
eight hundred, consisting of pike, bass, fish resembling salmon, trout,
redhorse, buffalo, one rock-fish, one flatback, perch, catfish, a small
species of perch, called on the Ohio silverfish, and a shrimp of the
same size, shape, and flavor of those about New Orleans and the lower
part of the Mississippi.”

A few days before, one of their Frenchmen had deserted, and the
commanding officers had sent out men to capture him. This they
succeeded in doing, but the man subsequently escaped again. On the 18th
they received another party of Indians--Otoes and Missourias. The next
day the first death occurred in the expedition, that of Charles Floyd,
who was buried on the top of the hill, and his grave marked by a cedar
post.

The post which marked Floyd’s grave had been thrown down by the winds
before 1839, but was set up again by Joseph Nicollet in that year.
All the time, however, the Missouri River was eating into the bank
toward the grave, and in the spring of 1857 the high water undermined
a part of the bluff and left Floyd’s coffin exposed. When this became
known at Sioux City, a party visited the grave and rescued the bones,
reinterring them six hundred feet back from the first grave. This
spot was lost again in the course of the years, but was rediscovered
in 1895, and finally in 1901 a permanent monument of white stone was
erected to the first citizen soldier of the United States to die and
be buried within the Louisiana Purchase, and the only man lost on the
Lewis and Clark expedition.

Farther up the stream, beyond the mouth of the Big Sioux River, they
killed their first buffalo. Near the mouth of the Whitestone they found
a curious mound, described as a regular parallelogram, the longest side
being three hundred yards, and the shorter sixty or seventy. It rises
sixty-five or seventy feet above the plain, and shows at the summit a
level plain about twelve feet in breadth and ninety in length. This,
according to the Sioux, was called the Hill of the Little People,
and “they believe that it is the abode of little devils, in the human
form, of about eighteen inches high, and with remarkably large heads;
they are armed with sharp arrows, with which they are very skilful, and
are always on the watch to kill those who should have the hardihood
to approach their residence.” Many Indians have been killed by these
spirits, and, among “others, three Omaha Indians, only a few years
before. The Sioux, Omahas, and Otoes are so afraid of the place that
they never visit it.”

The wind blows so strongly over the plain in which this mound stands
that insects are obliged to seek shelter on its leeward side, or be
driven against it. The little birds which feed on these insects resort
there in great numbers to pick them up. There the brown martin was so
employed, and the birds were so tame that they would not fly until
closely approached.

At Calumet Bluff the party was visited by a number of Yankton Sioux,
brought in by Sergeant Pryor and his party, who had gone to the village
to induce them to come to the river. A council was held with these
Indians and presents given them; and in the evening the Indians danced
for the entertainment of the white men. To the Durions--Frenchmen who
were trading with these Indians--presents were given; and they were
requested to try to make peace between the Yanktons and their enemies.

Reference is made to the soldier bands of the Sioux and Cheyennes,
though without much comprehension of what this organization is. It is
spoken of in these terms: “It is an association of the most active and
brave young men, who are bound to each other by attachment, secured
by a vow never to retreat before any danger or give way to their
enemies. In war they go forward without sheltering themselves behind
trees or aiding their natural valor by any artifice. This punctilious
determination not to be turned from their course became heroic or
ridiculous a short time since, when the Yanktons were crossing the
Missouri on the ice. A hole lay immediately in their course, which
might easily have been avoided by going round. This the foremost of
the band disdained to do, but went straight forward, and was lost. The
others would have followed his example, but were forcibly prevented
by the rest of the tribe. The young men sit, and encamp, and dance
together, distinct from the rest of the nation; they are generally
about thirty or thirty-five years old, and such is the deference paid
to courage that their seats in council are superior to those of the
chiefs, and their persons more respected. But, as may be supposed, such
indiscreet bravery will soon diminish the numbers of those who practice
it, so that the band is now reduced to four warriors, who were among
our visitors. These were the remains of twenty-two, who composed the
society not long ago; but, in a battle with the Kite Indians of the
Black Mountains, eighteen of them were killed, and these four were
dragged from the field by their companions.”

Warrior societies, or, as they are more often termed, soldier bands,
existed among all the plains tribes. In some tribes there might be
only four, in others a dozen or fifteen, such societies. They were
police officers, and among their important duties was the seeing that
orders of the chiefs were obeyed.

The list of the Sioux tribes here given includes the
Yanktons, the Tetons of the Burned Woods--now called Brulés;
the Tetons Okandandas--now known as Ogallalas; the Teton
Minnakenozzo--Minneconjous; the Teton Saone--Santees; Yanktons of
the Plains--Yanktonnaies; the Mindawarcarton--Minnewakaton; the
Wahpatoota--Wahpatones; the Sistasoone--Sissetons.

Not far beyond Calumet Bluffs were found extraordinary earthworks, said
by the explorers and French interpreters to be common on the Platte,
the Kansas, and the James rivers. The Poncas were next passed, above La
Rivière qui Court--the Niobrara. These are said to have been largely
reduced in numbers by the attacks of their enemies, and to be now
associating with the Omahas, and residing on the head of the Loup and
the Running Water. Above here the first prairie dogs were seen; and
not long after they were rejoined by one of their men who, twelve days
before, had been sent off after lost horses, and, having found them,
had been wandering along the river for twelve days, seeking his party.
Mention is made on September 17 of a great prairie dog town, and it is
told that their presence here enticed to this place “wolves of a small
kind, hawks, and polecats, all of which animals we saw, and presume
that they fed on the squirrels.” The whole country here had recently
been burned, and was now covered with young grass, on which herds of
antelope and buffalo were feeding.

On the 20th the party had a narrow escape from being buried under a
falling bank, undermined by the river. On this day a fort and a large
trading house built by Mr. Loizel for the purpose of trading with the
Sioux was passed on Cedar Island, and the following day Indians stole
one of their horses. They had now come to the country of the Teton
Indians, and, holding a council with them, had more or less trouble,
which would undoubtedly have resulted in fighting had it not been
for the prudence of Captain Clark. The Indians were insolent, and
were disposed to go just as far as permitted in annoying the white
people. However, they were not allowed to impose on the party, and a
short distance above this the main Teton village was passed, and here
Captains Lewis and Clark were met at the river bank by ten young men,
who carried them on buffalo robes to the large house where the council
was to be held--an evidence of the highest respect.

The custom of carrying a person who was to be highly honored on a robe
or blanket by young men is very old. It was practised to show honor to
aged or brave people, and also if two young people of good family were
about to be married, the young girl, as she drew near the home of the
bridegroom’s parents, riding on a horse led by some old kinswoman, was
often met by young men related to the bridegroom, who spread down a
robe or blanket, assisted her from her horse, asked her to sit down on
the robe, and then carried her to the lodge of her future husband.

In the shelter where they met were about seventy men, sitting about
the chief, before whom were placed a Spanish flag and an American flag
which Lewis and Clark had given him. Within the circle was the pipe,
supported on two forked sticks, about six or eight inches from the
ground, and beneath the pipe was scattered the down of a swan. Food was
cooking over the fire, and near the kettle a large amount of buffalo
meat, intended as a present. The feast consisted of a dog, pemmican,
and pomme blanche, and was ladled into wooden dishes with a horn spoon.
After eating and smoking, a number of dances were performed. Concerning
these, the very incorrect opinion is expressed: “Nor does the music
appear to be anything more than a confusion of noises, distinguished
only by hard or gentle blows upon a buffalo skin; the song is perfectly
extemporaneous.” It is, of course, now well known that these songs and
dances are always the same, and never, by any chance, change.

It is noted that these Indians, who appear to have been Ogallalas, had
then a fashion of dressing the hair different from anything recently
known. The journal says: “The men shaved the hair off their heads,
except a small tuft on the top, which they suffered to grow, and wore
in plaits over the shoulders. To this they seemed much attached, as
the loss of it is the usual sacrifice at the death of near relations.”
The dress of men and women is described, and it is noted that the
fire-bags of these Sioux were made of the dressed skins of skunks. The
women’s dresses were not very unlike that of recent times.

The Sioux met along the river by Lewis and Clark were new-comers in
that country. It is true that twenty-five years before a few Sioux
had crossed the Missouri River and had gone as far west as the Black
Hills--which are constantly spoken of by Lewis and Clark as the Black
Mountains. But it is also true that up to about the beginning of the
nineteenth century few or no Sioux had crossed the Missouri River who
remained permanently on the west bank. The accounts of many modern
writers on Indian matters seem to imply that from time immemorial the
Dakotas had roamed the Western plains, but it is well known by those
who have given attention to the subject that this is not at all true;
that the Sioux are a people of the East, and the tribal traditions
constantly speak of their migration from the country of the rising sun.

After four days spent with these Indians, preparations were made to
proceed up the river; but the Indians did not seem willing to let them
go. They did not show any particular hostility, but were extremely
irritating, and put the white men to so much trouble that they were
obliged to threaten them with fighting. Even after they had at last
succeeded in starting on their journey, these Sioux followed them along
the river, and continued to annoy them.

Not very far above the point where they were troubled by the Sioux they
came on a village of Arikaras, with whom some Frenchmen were living,
and among them a Monsieur Gravelines. This man brought together the
Arikara chiefs for a conference, in which speeches were made to them
similar to those already uttered to the Indians down the river. Some
presents were given, but the offer of liquor was declined, the Indians
saying that they were surprised that their father should present to
them a liquor which would make them fools. From the Indians were
received presents of corn, beans, and squashes. The following day other
councils were had at other villages of the Rees; and the explorers
finally left them to go on their way. The history of this tribe is
given with substantial accuracy, and much is said about their habits
and their good disposition.

Farther up the river a camp of Sioux was passed, and beyond them a
stream called Stone-Idol Creek. This name was given from the discovery
that “a few miles back from the Missouri there are two stones
resembling human figures, and a third like a dog; all of which are
objects of great veneration among the Arikaras.”

While nothing is said about the size of these figures, one wonders
whether the reference may not be to that stone figure known as the
Standing Rock, concerning which the Yankton Sioux have a tradition. We
have not heard of the figure of a man in connection with the Standing
Rock, but there was certainly the figure of a woman and of a dog,
and the woman, who owned the dog, is said to have been a Ree woman.
The Yankton tradition, however, is quite different from that given
by Lewis and Clark. Their two stone figures are a lover and a girl
whose parents declined to permit the marriage; and these two young
persons, the man accompanied by his dog, met on the prairie, and, after
wandering about, were at last turned to stone. The Standing Rock, which
is now at Standing Rock Agency, in North Dakota, is said to have been
a Ree woman, who, after having long been the only wife of her husband,
became jealous when he took another wife, and, lagging behind the
travelling body of the Rees, was finally turned to stone, and remains
to this day a warning to all jealous women.

A little later during the day’s journey they saw great numbers of
“goats” (antelope) coming to the banks of the river. No doubt these
animals were then migrating toward the mountains, or perhaps to the
broken hills of the Little Missouri. On October 18 they passed the
Cannon-ball River, referred to as Le Boulet; and here they met two
Frenchmen who had been robbed by the Mandans, but who turned about and
proceeded north again with the white men, in the hope of recovering
their possessions. Game was extremely abundant--buffalo, elk, and
deer. An Indian who was with them pointed out to them a number of
round hills, in which he declared the calumet birds--probably the
thunder-bird--had their homes.




CHAPTER IX

LEWIS AND CLARK

II


As they proceeded, they passed a number of ruined villages of the
Mandans, the low mounds of earth showing where the sod houses had
fallen in; but on October 24 they came to a large Mandan village, where
they were received with friendship, and where the chief of the Arikaras
smoked with the grand chief of the Mandans.

On the 26th, at a large Mandan camp, they met a Mr. McCracken, a
trader in the employ of the Northwest Fur Company, who was much on
the Missouri River in those early days. The younger Henry frequently
mentions him in his journal, but at a slightly later day. The Mandans
were not only most friendly, but most interested in the strange people
who had arrived in boats; and men, women, and children crowded to the
river-bank to see them. “The object which seemed to surprise them
most was a corn-mill fixed to the boat, which we had occasion to use,
and which delighted them by the ease with which it reduced grain to
powder,” for the Mandans, like other Indians, pulverized their corn by
pounding it in a mortar.

On the following day their boat reached the principal Mandan village,
and here was found a Frenchman named Jessaume, who was living among the
Mandans with an Indian wife. Not far from the Mandan village was one of
the Annahways, a tribe, according to Dr. Matthews, closely related to
the Hidatsa, or Minnetari, a part of whose warriors were then absent
on an expedition against the Shoshoni. In speeches of the usual form,
Captains Lewis and Clark expressed the good will of the Great Father at
Washington, and his desire that all the tribes should be at peace; and
presents and medals were distributed among the chiefs. In the course
of the next few days these presents were returned by gifts of corn and
dried meat; and the Arikara chief set out for his home with one Mandan
chief and several Minnetari and Mandan warriors. Captain Clark, after
much investigation, found a good situation for a winter post, and the
work of felling timber and erecting buildings began. Besides the Mandan
interpreter, Jessaume, they met here a Canadian Frenchman, who had been
with the Cheyenne Indians “on the Black Mountains,” and the previous
summer had come by way of the Little Missouri to the Great River. The
Little Missouri was always a great range for the Cheyennes.

The weather, which for some time had been cold, now grew much colder,
and ice formed on the edges of the rivers. Water fowl were passing
south, and it was evident that soon the river would close up. A large
camp of Assiniboines, with some Crees, had come to the Mandan village
and encamped there. A couple of Frenchmen made their appearance from
farther down the river. It seems extraordinary how many Canadian
Frenchmen there were at this time in this distant country.

Near Fort Mandan, just established, there were five Indian villages,
the residence of three distinct tribes, the Mandans, the Annahways,
and the Minnetari. The journal gives the history of these nations as
follows: “Within the recollection of living witnesses the Mandans
were settled forty years ago in nine villages (the ruins of which we
passed about eighty miles below), situated seven on the west and two
on the east side of the Missouri. The two finding themselves wasting
away before the small-pox and the Sioux, united into one village and
moved up the river opposite to the Ricaras. The same causes reduced
the remaining seven to five villages, till at length they emigrated
in a body to the Ricara nation, where they formed themselves into two
villages and joined those of their countrymen who had gone before them.
In their new residence they were still insecure, and at length the
three villages ascended the Missouri to their present position. The two
who had emigrated together settled in the two villages on the northwest
side of the Missouri, while the single village took a position on the
southeast side. In this situation they were found by those who visited
them in 1796, since which the two villages have united into one. They
are now in two villages, one on the southeast of the Missouri, the
other on the opposite side, and at the distance of three miles across.
The first, in an open plain, contains about forty or fifty lodges,
built in the same way as those of the Ricaras; the second, the same
number, and both may raise about three hundred and fifty men.

“On the same side of the river, and at the distance of four miles from
the lower Mandan village, is another, called Mahaha. It is situated
on a high plain at the mouth of the Knife River, and is the residence
of the Ahnahaways. This nation, whose name indicates that they were
‘people whose village is on a hill,’ formerly resided on the Missouri,
about thirty miles below where they now lived. The Assiniboines and
Sioux forced them to a spot five miles higher, where the greatest part
of them were put to death, and the rest emigrated to their present
situation, in order to obtain an asylum near the Minnetarees. They
are called by the French, Soulier Noir, or Black Shoe Indians; by the
Mandans, Wattasoons; and their whole force is about fifty men.”

Toward the end of November seven traders belonging to the Northwest
Company reached the Mandans, coming from the Assiniboine River. Before
long some of them began to circulate unfavorable reports among the
Indians, and Captains Lewis and Clark found it necessary to take
immediate steps to stop this. They told Mr. Laroche, the chief of the
seven traders, that they should not permit him to give medals and flags
to the Indians, who were under the protection of the American nation,
and would receive consideration from them alone.

On the last day of November, word was brought that the Sioux had
attacked the Mandans, and killed one and wounded two others, and that a
number of Indians were missing. Captain Clark, therefore, in order to
fix the loyalty of the Indians, summoned his whole force, and arming
them, set out for the Mandan village. He told the chief who came out to
meet him that he had come to assist them in their war, and would lead
them against the Sioux, their enemies, and avenge the blood of their
countrymen. This action made a great impression on the Mandans, and a
Cheyenne captive, who had been brought up in the tribe, and attained
a position of considerable importance, made a speech thanking the
white men for their assistance, and expressing the confidence of the
Indians in them. There was a long talk, after which Captain Clark left
the village. The next day six Sharha (Cheyenne) Indians came to the
village, bringing the pipe of peace, and saying that their nation was
three days’ march behind them. With the Cheyennes were three Pawnees.
The Cheyennes were at peace with the Sioux, and the Mandans feared them
and wished to put them to death, but knowing that this would be against
the wishes of their white friends, they did nothing. Lewis and Clark
note the common practice of calling the Arikaras, Pawnees, a practice
which still exists.

A little later something is said about the chief of the Mandans, and
following this comes the story of the tribe’s origin, as given by the
Mandans themselves: “Their belief in a future state is connected with
this tradition of their origin: The whole nation resided in one large
village under ground, near a subterraneous lake. A grapevine extended
its roots down to their habitation and gave them a view of the light.
Some of the most adventurous climbed up the vine, and were delighted
with the sight of the earth, which they found covered with buffalo,
and rich with every kind of fruits. Returning with the grapes they had
gathered, their countrymen were so pleased with the taste of them that
the whole nation resolved to leave their dull residence for the charms
of the upper region. Men, women, and children ascended by means of the
vine; but when about half the nation had reached the surface of the
earth a corpulent woman, who was clambering up the vine, broke it with
her weight and closed upon herself and the rest of the nation the light
of the sun. Those who were left on the earth made a village below,
where we saw the nine villages; and when the Mandans die they expect to
return to the original seats of their forefathers, the good reaching
the ancient village by means of the lake, which the burden of the sins
of the wicked will not enable them to cross.”

Although the weather was cold, buffalo were near, and there was much
hunting by means of the surround, with the bow and arrows. Captain
Clark hunted with the Indians, and killed ten buffalo, of which five
only were brought into the fort, the remainder being taken by the
Indians; since, as the buffalo were killed by guns, they bore no mark
of identification, such as an arrow would have furnished. The next day
Captain Lewis took fifteen men and went out to hunt buffalo. They
killed eight and one deer; but, being obliged to travel on foot through
deep snow, it took them a long time to approach the buffalo, and some
of the men were frost-bitten.

It was now mid-December, and very cold; and the white men suffered a
good deal and hunted but little. About this time a Mr. Haney arrived
from the British post on the Assiniboine, bearing a letter from Mr.
Chabouillez, a well-known trader of the North, with offers of service.
In the Mandan village the Indians were playing at sticks, apparently
in the method practiced at the present day among the Blackfeet. Thin
circular stones are rolled along the ground, and followed by running
men, who slide their sticks along the ground trying to have the disk
fall on them. On December 22 the explorers seem to have first seen the
horns of the Rocky Mountain sheep. It is “about the size of a small
elk or large deer, the horns winding like those of a ram, which they
resemble also in texture, though larger and thicker.”

The year 1804 opened with New Year’s day festivities, and “in the
morning we permitted sixteen men with their music to go up to the
first village, where they delighted the whole tribe with their dances,
particularly with the movements of one of the Frenchmen, who danced
on his head.” Frequent mention is made of the pleasure with which the
Indians witnessed the dancing of the Americans, and this amusement
was much indulged in by the men, many of whom, as already said, were
Frenchmen.

Although the cold was intense and the white men suffered severely, the
Indians seemed to regard it very little. They were coming and going
constantly, very slightly clad, and sometimes were obliged to sleep out
in the snow, with no protection save a buffalo robe; and yet they were
seldom frozen.

During these months of inaction, Lewis and Clark were frequently
occupied in settling individual quarrels among the various Indians
near them, making peace between husbands and wives and persuading the
Indians to abandon war journeys planned for the following spring.

Traders from the North were frequent visitors to these villages.
All through the winter the blacksmith kept at work with his forge,
manufacturing various articles of iron, and the Indians seemed never
to weary of watching him and admiring the magic by which he turned a
straight piece of iron into a useful implement.

During all this time hunting was going on, for though the explorers
had abundant provisions, yet they were supporting themselves as far
as possible from the country. Besides the corn which they purchased
from the Indians, in exchange for trade goods and bits of iron, they
killed buffalo, deer, and elk; and on one hunt, in February, Captain
Clark and his party killed forty deer, three buffalo, and sixteen elk.
Most of the game was too lean for use, and was left for the wolves. A
part, however, was brought to a point on the river, and there protected
in pens built of logs, which should keep off the wolves, ravens, and
magpies. The next day four men were sent with sleds and three horses,
to bring in the meat. They returned that night stating that a party of
one hundred men had rushed upon them, cut the traces of the sleds and
carried off two of the horses, the third being left them through the
influence of one of the Indians. The Indians had also taken some of
the men’s arms. An effort was made to pursue these enemies, who were
believed to be Sioux, and Captain Lewis, with a few Mandans, set out on
their trail. This was followed for two or three days, until at last it
turned off into the prairie. The supposition that these robbers were
Sioux was confirmed by finding some moccasins that had been thrown
away, though the Sioux had dropped some corn in one place, apparently
with the hope of making it appear that they were Arikaras. Before
returning, Captain Clark visited the place where the meat had been
cached, and did some more hunting; and, having killed thirty-six deer,
fourteen elk, and one wolf, he returned to the fort with about three
thousand pounds of meat.

The weather was now growing milder, and preparations began to be
made for continuing the journey. Men were sent out to look for trees
suitable for canoes. White men began to arrive from the Northwest
Company’s post, and also Mr. Gravelines, with Frenchmen from the
Arikara village down the river. These brought word that the Rees were
willing to make peace with the Mandans and Minnetari, and asked if the
Mandans would be willing to have the Arikaras settle near them, and
form with them a league against the Sioux. Word was brought that the
Sioux who had stolen the explorers’ horses had afterward gone to the
Arikara village and told what they had done, and that the Rees were so
angry at this that they had declined to give them anything to eat; in
other words, had treated them as enemies.

The river broke up late in March, and, as happened every spring,
many buffalo were brought down on the floating ice. An interesting
description is given of how the Indians killed the buffalo floating
down on the cakes of ice, which they dared not leave. The men ran
lightly over the loose ice in the river until they had reached the
large cake on which the buffalo stood, and, killing it there, then
paddled the cake of ice to the shore.

A thunder-storm, accompanied by hail, came on April 1--the breaking up
of the winter. And now for several days the explorers were engaged in
packing specimens to be sent back to Washington; skins and skeletons of
some of the animals of the country, together with a number of articles
of Indian dress, arms, implements, tobacco seed, and corn, with
specimens of some plants. Arrangements were made also for some of the
chiefs of the Rees to visit the President; and a delegation from the
Rees made a peace with the Mandans.

The explorers were now ready to continue their journey, and left the
fort the afternoon of April 7. The party consisted of thirty-two
persons, including the interpreters, one of whom was accompanied by his
wife. At the same time their large boat, manned by seven soldiers and
two Frenchmen, set out down the river for the distant United States.

The journey up the river was slow, and it would be too long to tell
of all they saw--things then new to all, but now common enough. The
prairie and the river bottom swarmed with game--herds of buffalo, elk,
antelope, with some deer and wolves. As they went along they saw a nest
of geese built “in the tops of lofty cottonwood trees,” an interesting
fact in natural history, rediscovered more than fifty years later by
an enterprising ornithologist. From time to time, as they passed up
the river, they passed small abandoned encampments of Indians, at one
of which, “from the hoops of small kegs found in them, we judged could
belong to Assiniboines only, as they are the only Missouri Indians who
use spirituous liquors. Of these they are so passionately fond that it
forms their chief inducement to visit the British on the Assiniboine,
to whom they barter for kegs of rum their dried and pounded meat, their
grease, and the skins of large and small wolves, and small foxes; the
dangerous exchange is transported to their camps, with their friends
and relations, and soon exhausted in brutal intoxication. So far from
considering drunkenness as disgraceful, the women and children are
permitted and invited to share in these excesses with their husbands
and fathers, who boast how often their skill and industry as hunters
have supplied them with the means of intoxication; in this, as in
other habits and customs, they resemble the Sioux, from whom they are
descended.”

The recent presence of the Assiniboines on the river had made the game
scarce and shy, and it was so early in the season that the animals
killed were very thin in flesh, and almost useless for food. Beaver,
however, were numerous, and seemed larger and fatter, and with darker
and better fur, than any seen hitherto. They were now in the country
of abundant buffalo, and the calves had already begun to make their
appearance. On April 26 they reached the mouth of the Yellowstone
River, “known to the French as La Roche Jaune.” Game was so plenty that
it was scarcely necessary to hunt, and they killed only what was needed
for food. The river banks were lined with dead buffalo; some partly
devoured by wolves. The buffalo had evidently been drowned in crossing,
either by breaking through the ice or being unable to clamber from the
water when landing under some high bluff.

On April 29 Captain Lewis met his first grizzly bear, which the
explorers call white bears. “Of the strength and ferocity of this
animal the Indians had given us dreadful accounts; they never attack
him but in parties of six or eight persons, and even then are often
defeated, with the loss of one or more of the party. Having no weapons
but bows and arrows, and the bad guns with which the traders supply
them, they are obliged to approach very near to the bear; and as no
wound except through the head or heart is mortal, they frequently fall
a sacrifice if they miss their aim. He rather attacks than avoids man;
and such is the terror he has inspired that the Indians who go in
quest of him paint themselves and perform all the superstitious rites
customary when they make war on a neighboring nation. Hitherto those we
had seen did not appear desirous of encountering us, but although to a
skilful rifleman the danger is very much diminished, the white bear is
still a terrible animal. On approaching these two, both Captain Lewis
and the hunter fired, and each wounded a bear. One of them made his
escape; the other turned upon Captain Lewis and pursued him for seventy
or eighty yards; but, being badly wounded, he could not run so fast as
to prevent him from reloading his piece, which he again aimed at him,
and a third shot from the hunter brought him to the ground.”

The curiosity of the antelope is spoken of as being often the occasion
of its easy destruction. “When they first see the hunters they run with
great velocity; if he lies down on the ground and lifts up his arm, his
hat or his foot, they return with a light trot to look at the object,
and sometimes go and return two or three times, till they approach
within reach of the rifle. So, too, they sometimes leave their flock to
go and look at the wolves, which crouch down, and, if the antelope is
frightened at first, repeat the same manœuver, and sometimes relieve
each other till they decoy it from the party, when they seize it. But
generally the wolves take them as they are crossing the rivers; for,
although swift on foot, they are not good swimmers.”

As the party struggled on up the Missouri they passed the mouth of
the Porcupine River, so-called from the unusual number of porcupines
seen near it. They continued to see vast quantities of buffalo, elk,
and deer--principally of the long-tailed kind--with antelope, beaver,
geese, ducks, and swans. As they went on, the game became much tamer.
The male buffalo would scarcely give way to them, and as the white men
drew near, looked at them for a moment and then quietly began to graze
again.

On May 4 they passed some old Indian hunting camps, “one of which
consisted of two large lodges fortified with a circular fence twenty
or thirty feet in diameter, and made of timber laid horizontally, the
beams overlaying each other to the height of five feet, and covered
with the trunks and limbs of trees that have drifted down the river.
The lodges themselves are formed by three or more strong sticks,
about the size of a man’s leg or arm, and twelve feet long, which are
attached at the top by a withe of small willows, and spread out so as
to form at the base a circle of from ten to fourteen feet in diameter;
against these are placed pieces of drift-wood and fallen timber,
usually in three ranges, one on the other, and the interstices are
covered with leaves, bark, and straw, so as to form a conical figure
about ten feet high, with a small aperture in one side for the door.”
These lodges, of course, were war lodges of the Assiniboines, Gros
Ventres, or Blackfeet, though the travellers evidently took them for
ordinary habitations.

The explorers were greatly interested in the animals they
saw--especially the bears--and gave good descriptions of them, and of
their habits.

The tenacity of life in the bears made them especially interesting, and
their encounters with them were often marked by danger. However, the
people usually hunted in couples or in small parties, and as yet no one
had been hurt.




CHAPTER X

LEWIS AND CLARK

III


They had now passed Milk River, and the Dry Fork, and the journal says:
“The game is now in great quantities, particularly the elk and buffalo,
which last are so gentle that the men are obliged to drive them out of
the way with sticks and stones.” Bears were abundant, and almost every
day one was killed.

They were approaching the mountains, and the spring storms, which
here last until the middle of July, troubled them with abundant rains
and by obscuring the view. On the 20th they reached the mouth of the
Musselshell, and pushing on, in a short time found themselves among the
bad lands of the upper Missouri. They were now obliged to “cordell,” a
number of the men walking on the shore with a tow-line, while others
kept the boat off the bank. This was slow and difficult work, and was
made more dangerous by the fact that their elk-skin ropes were getting
old and rotten, and were likely to break at critical times. On May
29 some buffalo ran through the camp, and caused much confusion and
alarm, no one knowing exactly what had happened until after it was
all over. When they passed the mouth of the Judith River they found
traces of a large camp of Indians, a hundred and twenty-six fires,
made, as they conjectured, by “The Minnetari of Fort de Prairie,” that
is, the Gros Ventres of the Prairie--Arapahoes or Atséna. Here, too,
they passed precipices about one hundred and twenty feet high, below
which lay scattered the remains of at least a hundred carcasses of
buffalo. The method by which the buffalo are driven over the cliffs by
the upper Missouri tribes is described. At this place the wolves which
had been feasting on these carcasses were very fat, and so gentle that
one of them was killed with a spontoon or halberd. They were now among
some of the most impressive bad lands of the Missouri River, and the
extraordinary effects of erosion by air and water made the explorers
wonder.

Captains Lewis and Clark were much puzzled at this point to know which
of the rivers before them was the main Missouri. The Minnetari had
told them that the main Missouri headed close to the Columbia River,
and it was this main stream that they wished to follow up, in order
that they might strike Columbia waters, and thus continue their way
toward the west. The choice of the wrong branch might take them a very
long distance out of their way, and they would be forced to return
to this point, losing a season for travelling, and also, perhaps, so
disheartening the men as to take away much or all of their enthusiasm.
Accordingly, two land parties set out, one under Captain Lewis and one
under Captain Clark. Captain Lewis followed up the Missouri River, and
became convinced that it was not the main stream, and that it would not
be wise to follow it up. The remainder of his party, however, believed
it to be the true Missouri. Captain Clark, who had followed up the
other stream, had seen nothing to give him much notion as to whether
it was or was not the principal river. After long consideration, and
getting from the interpreters and Frenchmen all that they knew on
the subject, they determined to make a cache at this point, and that
a party should ascend the southern branch by land until they should
reach either the falls of the Missouri or the mountains. This plan
was carried out. The heavy baggage, together with some provisions,
salt, powder, and tools, were cached; one of the boats was hidden; and
Captain Lewis, with four men, started June 11 to follow up the southern
stream.

On the 13th they came to a beautiful plain, where the buffalo were
in greater numbers than they had ever been seen, and a little later
Captain Lewis came upon the great falls of the Missouri. This most
cheering discovery gave them the information that they desired, and
the next day an effort was made to find a place where the canoes might
be portaged beyond the falls. This was not found; and a considerable
journey up and down the river showed to the explorers the great
number of falls existing at this place. Game was very numerous, and
buffalo were killed and the meat prepared, and a messenger was sent
back to the main party to tell what had been discovered. One day in
this neighborhood Captain Lewis, having carelessly left his rifle
unloaded, was chased for a considerable distance by a bear, and
finally took refuge in the river. The next day he was threatened by
three buffalo bulls, which came up to within a hundred yards of him on
the full charge, and then stopped; and the next day, in the morning,
he found a rattlesnake coiled up on a tree trunk close to where he
had been sleeping. There seems to have been excitement enough in the
neighborhood of the Great Falls. It was found necessary here to leave
their boats behind, and the travellers made an effort to supply their
place by a homely cart, the wheels of which were made from sections of
the trunk of a large cottonwood tree.

For a good while now the party had been travelling, most of the time
on foot, over rough country, covered with prickly pears, and the
ground rough with hard points of earth, where the buffalo had trodden
during the recent rains. Their foot-gear was worn out, and the feet of
many of the men were sore. All were becoming weak from exertion and
the fatigues they were constantly undergoing. However, the enormous
abundance of game kept them from suffering from hunger. Two or three
weeks were spent in the neighborhood of the Great Falls, preparing
for their onward journey. Provisions were secured by killing buffalo
and drying their meat. They tried to prepare a skin boat for going
up the river, and for various explorations and measurements in the
neighborhood, but the attempt was unsuccessful. The iron frame had been
brought from the East, but wood for flooring and gunwales was hardly to
be had. They were obliged to give up the boat, strip the covering from
it, and cache the pieces.

While they were in this neighborhood, they were much annoyed by the
white bears, which constantly visited their camp during the night.
Their dog kept them advised of the approach of the animals, but it was
annoying to be obliged to sleep with their arms by their sides and
to expect to be awakened at any moment. The daring of the bears was
great; once some of the hunters, seeing a place where they thought it
likely that a bear might be found, climbed into a tree, shouted, and
a bear instantly rushed toward them. It came to the tree and stopped
and looked at them, when one of the men shot it. It proved to be the
largest bear yet seen.

Captain Clark, journeying with Chaboneau, the interpreter, his wife and
child, and the negro servant York, took shelter one day under a steep
rock in a deep ravine, to be out of the rain and wind. A heavy shower
came up, and before they knew it a tremendous torrent came rolling
down the ravine, so that they narrowly escaped losing their lives.
Captain Clark pulled the Indian woman up out of the water, which,
before he could climb the bank, was up to his waist. The guns and some
instruments were lost in the flood.

The question of transportation was finally solved by their making two
small canoes from cottonwood trees, and they pushed on up the Missouri.
A small party went ahead on foot, examining the country. Game was
fairly numerous, and near the Dearborn River they saw a “large herd of
the big horned animals.” Indian camps were occasionally seen, and it
was noted that in some places pine trees had been stripped of their
bark, which, the Indian woman told them, was done by the Snakes in the
spring, in order to obtain the soft parts of the wood and the bark for
food.

The river here was deep, and with only a moderate current, and they
were obliged to employ the tow-rope, cordelling their vessel along the
shore. Geese and cranes were breeding along the river; the young geese
perfectly feathered and as large as the old ones, while the cranes were
as large as turkeys. The land party followed for much of the distance
an Indian trail, which led in the general direction they wished to go.

They had now reached the Three Forks of the Missouri, which were duly
named, as we know them to-day, Jefferson, Madison, and Gallatin. They
were in the country of the Snake Indians, whom they were in daily hope
of meeting, feeling sure that through the medium of Chaboneau’s wife
they would be able to establish satisfactory relations with them.
Captain Clark still kept ahead of the party, on foot, to learn the
courses and practicability of the different streams for the canoes, and
left notes at different points, with instructions for the boats. One
of these notes, left on a green pole stuck up in the mud, failed to be
received because a beaver cut down the pole after it had been planted,
and the consequence was that the canoes proceeded for a considerable
distance up the wrong fork, and were obliged to return. Reaching the
Beaverhead, the Snake woman pointed out the place where she had been
captured five years before. On August 9 Captain Lewis, with three
men, set out, determined to find some Indians before returning to
the party, and the rest of the expedition kept on up the main fork
of the Jefferson as best they could. On August 11 Captain Lewis had
the pleasure of seeing a man on horseback approaching him. The man’s
appearance was different from that of any Indian seen before, and
Captain Lewis was convinced that he was a Shoshoni. When the two men
were about a mile apart the Indian stopped, and Captain Lewis signalled
to him with his blanket, making the sign of friendship, and attempted
to approach him. The Indian was suspicious, and unfortunately the two
men who were following Captain Lewis did not observe the latter’s sign
to wait, and so, though the Indian permitted the white man to come to
within a hundred yards of him, he finally turned his horse and rode off
into the willows. They followed the track of the Indian as well as they
could until night, and the next morning continued the search. By this
time their food was nearly gone. They kept on up the stream until it
had grown to be a rivulet so small that Captain Lewis could stand over
it with one foot on either bank.

Keeping on to the west, they reached the divide between the Atlantic
and Pacific waters, and the next day came upon a woman and a man, who
declined to await near approach. A little bit later they came on three
Indians, an old and a young woman and a little girl. The young woman
escaped by running, but the other two sat down on the ground and seemed
to be awaiting death. Captain Lewis made them presents, and after a
little conversation, by signs, they set out for the camp. Before they
had gone far they met a troop of sixty warriors rushing down upon them
at full speed. Captain Lewis put down his gun and went forward with a
flag. The leading Indians spoke to the women, who explained that the
party were white men, and showed, with pride, the presents that they
had received. The warriors received them with great friendliness, and
they smoked together on the best of terms, and subsequently proceeded
to the camp, where they were received with the utmost hospitality.
The Indians had abundant fresh meat and salmon. Most of them were
armed with bows, but a few had guns, which they had obtained from
the Northwest Company. They had many horses, and hunted antelope on
horseback, surrounding and driving them from point to point, until the
antelope were worn out and the horses were foaming with sweat. Many of
the antelope broke through and got away.

Captain Lewis tried to arrange with the chief to return with him to
the Jefferson, meet the party, and bring them over the mountains,
and then trade for some horses. The chief readily consented, but it
subsequently appeared that he was more or less suspicious, and he
repeated to Captain Lewis the suggestions made by some of the Indians
that the white men were perhaps allies of their enemies and were trying
to draw them into an ambuscade. The chief, with six or eight warriors,
started back with Captain Lewis, and it was evident that the people in
the village thought that they were going into great danger, for the
women were crying and praying for good fortune for those about to go
into danger, while the men who feared to go were sullen and unhappy.
Nevertheless, before the party had gone far from the camp, they were
joined by others, and a little later all the men, and many of the
women, overtook them, and travelled along cheerfully with them. Two
or three days later Captain Lewis sent out two of his men to hunt,
and this seemed to revive the suspicions of the Indians; and when, a
little later, one of the Indians who had followed the hunters was seen
riding back as hard as he could, the whole company of Indians who were
with Captain Lewis whirled about and ran away as fast as possible. It
was not until they had raced along for a mile or two that the Indian
who returned made the others understand that one of the white men had
killed a deer, and instantly the whole company turned about and ran
back, each man eager to get first to the deer that he might make sure
of a piece.

Meantime the main party had struggled on up the river, and on August
17 were met by a messenger from Captain Lewis, Drewyer, together with
two or three of his Indian friends. The two parties met, and, through
the medium of Chaboneau’s wife, all suspicions were allayed and the
friendliest relations established. Efforts were now made to learn
something about the country to the westward and the best method of
passing through it. The Indians said the way was difficult, the river
swift, full of rapids, and flowing through deep canyons, which passed
through mountains impassable for men or horses. The route to the
southward of the river was said to pass through a dry, parched desert
of sand, uninhabited by game, and impossible at that season for the
horses, as the grass was dead and the water dried up by the heat of
summer. The route to the northward, though bad, appeared to present the
best road.

Obviously, if it was practicable, the river presented the easiest
passage through the country, and, in the hope that its difficulties had
been exaggerated, Captain Clark set out to inspect its channel. Passing
as far down the river as he could, the leader convinced himself that it
was useless to attempt its passage. Game was scarce, and for food the
party depended almost entirely on the salmon which they could purchase
from the Indians, and which in some cases were freely given them. The
Shoshoni Indians led a miserable life, depending chiefly on salmon and
roots. They ventured out on the buffalo plain to kill and dry the meat,
though continually in fear of the Pahkees, “or the roving Indians of
the Sascatchawan,” who sometimes followed them even into the mountains.
These Pahkees were undoubtedly the Piegan tribe of Blackfeet, known for
many years as bitter enemies of the Snakes.




CHAPTER XI

LEWIS AND CLARK

IV


By the end of August the explorers, having procured a number of horses,
set to work to make saddles, cache their extra baggage, and set out for
their journey north and west. The way led them over rough mountains,
often without a trail. They were fortunate in having an old Indian as
guide, but met much cold weather, and found the country barren of game.
However, after two or three days of very difficult travel, they came
upon a camp of friendly Indians, who fed them. These people professed
to be an offshoot of the Tushepaw tribe, had plenty of horses, and were
fairly well provided. They told them that down the great river was a
large fall, near which lived white people, who supplied them with beads
and brass wire. Not long after this they met the first Chopunnish, or
Pierced-nose Indians, whom we know to-day as Nez Percés. They were
friendly, and were treated as other tribes had been.

Although the explorers had had one satisfying meal, yet food was very
scarce, and the Indians subsisted as best they might on the few salmon
still remaining in the streams, which they shared with the white men.
The privations suffered recently were making them weak; many were sick;
and it was so necessary to husband their strength that Captain Clark
determined to make the remaining journey by water. Canoes were built,
and the thirty-eight horses were branded and turned over to three
Indians to care for until the explorers returned. Provisions for the
trip were difficult to obtain. On the morning of October 7 they started
down Lewis River without two of the Nez Percé chiefs who had promised
to go with them. Indian encampments were numerous along the river, but
food continued very scarce, and their only supply consisted of roots,
which they got from the Indians. Later they bought some dogs from the
Nez Percés for food, and were laughed at by the Indians, who did not
eat dogs. The Nez Percés during summer and autumn occupied themselves
in fishing for salmon and collecting roots and berries, while in
winter they hunted the deer on snow-shoes, and toward spring crossed
the mountains to the Missouri for the purpose of trading for buffalo
robes. They appeared very different from the kindly Shoshoni; they were
selfish and avaricious, and expected a reward for every service and a
full price for every article they parted with.

Although it was now drawing toward mid-October, the weather continued
warm. Progress down the stream was rapid, though more so in appearance
than in reality, owing to the river’s bends. On the bank of the
stream, at a large Indian camp where they stopped October 11, a novel
form of sweat-house was observed. Earth was banked up on three sides
against a cut-bank at the river’s edge, and the Indians, descending
through the roof, which was covered with brush and earth, except for
a small aperture, took down their hot stones and vessels of water and
bathed here.

They were now approaching the camp of a different nation of Indians,
who had been warned of the coming of the party by the two chiefs who
had gone before, and they began to receive visits from men who had come
up the stream to satisfy the curiosity excited by the reports. When
they reached the camp they were hospitably received, and the usual
council was held, accompanied by distribution of presents and medals.
Here they obtained from the Indians some dogs, a few fish, and a little
dried horse-flesh. This was at the junction of the Lewis River and the
Columbia; and the Indians, who called themselves Sokulks, seemed a
mild and peaceable people, living in a state of comparative happiness.
The men appeared to have but one wife, old age was respected, and the
people were agreeable to deal with. Their support was largely fish, to
which were added roots and the flesh of the antelope. They were chiefly
canoe people, and possessed but few horses.

Here Captain Clark, while ascending the Columbia in a small canoe,
first saw, besides the captured fish drying on scaffolds, “immense
numbers of salmon strewed along the shore, or floating on the surface
of the water.” At the Indian villages that he passed he was hospitably
received, and here first the sage grouse, called a “prairie cock, a
bird of the pheasant kind, of about the size of a small turkey,” was
captured.

Proceeding down the Columbia a few days’ journey, an interesting
incident took place. “As Captain Clark arrived at the lower end of the
rapid before any, except one of the small canoes, he sat down on a
rock to wait for them, and, seeing a crane fly across the river, shot
it, and it fell near him. Several Indians had been before this passing
on the opposite side toward the rapids, and some who were then nearly
in front of him, being either alarmed at his appearance or the report
of the gun, fled to their homes. Captain Clark was afraid that these
people had not yet heard that the white men were coming, and therefore,
in order to allay their uneasiness before the rest of the party should
arrive, he got into the small canoe with three men, rowed over toward
the houses, and, while crossing, shot a duck, which fell into the
water. As he approached no person was to be seen, except three men in
the plains, and they, too, fled as he came near the shore. He landed
in front of five houses close to each other, but no one appeared, and
the doors, which were of mat, were closed. He went toward one of them
with a pipe in his hand, and, pushing aside the mat, entered the lodge,
where he found thirty-two persons, chiefly men and women, with a few
children, all in the greatest consternation; some hanging down their
heads, others crying and wringing their hands. He went up to them
and shook hands with each one in the most friendly manner; but their
apprehensions, which had for a moment subsided, revived on his taking
out a burning-glass, as there was no roof to the house, and lighting
his pipe. He then offered it to several of the men, and distributed
among the women and children some small trinkets which he had with him,
and gradually restored a degree of tranquility among them. Leaving
this house, and directing each of his men to visit a house, he entered
a second. Here he found the inmates more terrified than those in the
first; but he succeeded in pacifying them, and afterward went into the
other houses, where the men had been equally successful. Retiring from
the houses, he seated himself on a rock, and beckoned to some of the
men to come and smoke with him, but none of them ventured to join him
till the canoes arrived with the two chiefs, who immediately explained
our pacific intentions toward them. Soon after the interpreter’s wife
landed, and her presence dissipated all doubts of our being well
disposed, since in this country no woman ever accompanies a war party;
they therefore all came out, and seemed perfectly reconciled; nor
could we, indeed, blame them for their terrors, which were perfectly
natural. They told the two chiefs that they knew we were not men, for
they had seen us fall from the clouds. In fact, unperceived by them,
Captain Clark had shot the white crane, which they had seen fall
just before he appeared to their eyes; the duck which he had killed
also fell close by him, and as there were some clouds flying over
at the moment, they connected the fall of the birds with his sudden
appearance, and believed that he had himself actually dropped from the
clouds, considering the noise of the rifle, which they had never heard
before, the sound announcing so extraordinary an event. This belief was
strengthened, when, on entering the room, he brought down fire from the
heavens by means of his burning-glass. We soon convinced them, however,
that we were merely mortals, and after one of our chiefs had explained
our history and objects, we all smoked together in great harmony.”

Below this, other Indian villages were passed, and there was more or
less intercourse between the white men and the Indians. On the 20th
an island was visited, one end of which was devoted to the burial of
the dead. The passage down the river continued to be more or less
interrupted by rapids and falls, about which they were obliged to make
portages. All the Indians seemed to be friendly, and seemed also to be
in great dread of the Snake Indians, with whom they were constantly at
war.

Here is described the method of certain tribes of preparing fish, by
drying, and pounding it fine, and then placing it in a basket lined
with skin of the salmon, and covering the top of the basket with skins.
Fish prepared in this way would keep sound and sweet for years. It was
an article of trade between these people and those farther down the
river, who eagerly purchased it. The preparation seems to have been the
equivalent of the pemmican, made of flesh, and so extensively used on
the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains.

The rapids which they constantly encountered greatly delayed them, and
sometimes the contents of one or more boats were soaked by being upset
or by shipping water. Food was scarce, and they continued to purchase
dogs for provisions. October 24 a change was noticed in the actions
of the Indians, who seemed more suspicious than usual and approached
the travellers with more caution. This alarmed the two Indian chiefs
who had come with them down the river, and they wished to leave the
party and return to their own country. However, they were persuaded to
remain two nights longer, since they had proved most useful in quieting
the fears of the different tribes met with and inspiring them with
confidence in the white people.

A little later they met Indians, some of whom wore white men’s
clothing, said to have been obtained from people farther down the
stream, and who had also a musket, a cutlass, and several brass
kettles. A chief who had some white men’s clothing exhibited to the
travellers, as trophies, fourteen dried forefingers, which he told
them had belonged to enemies whom he had killed in fighting, to
the south-east. At a burial-place were deposited brass kettles and
frying-pans with holes in the bottoms. The making holes in these
vessels, which were to contain liquid, was, of course, for the purpose
of “killing” the vessel, that it might be useful to the spirit who
was to use it in another life. Not very far below this they first met
the wappato, a word now firmly established in the vernacular of the
Northwest; it is the root of the plant _Sagittaria_, well known as an
excellent food for human beings, and eagerly eaten by wild-fowl. The
Indians with whom the explorers now came in contact were troublesome
mortals, very presuming, and disposed to take anything that was left
about. They possessed still more articles of white men’s manufacture,
some having muskets and pistols. Below the mouth of the Coweliske River
they found an Indian who spoke a few words of English, and he gave them
the name of the principal person who traded with them--a Mr. Haley.

The river was now growing wider; there were great numbers of
water-fowl; and on the afternoon of November 7 the fog suddenly cleared
away and they saw the ocean, the object of all their labors, the
reward of all their anxiety. The weather was almost constantly rainy,
and they were continually wet. There were numerous villages along the
river, and these were to be avoided, because, like all Indian villages
recently passed, they were terribly infested by fleas. Among the wild
fowl killed in this locality were a goose and two canvasback ducks. The
sea was heavy in this mouth of the river, and the motion so great that
several of the men became sea-sick. They landed in the bay, but the
hills came down so steeply to the water’s edge that there was no room
for them to make a satisfactory camp nor to secure the baggage above
high water. However, they raised the baggage on poles and spent a most
uncomfortable night. For some days now they camped on the beach, wet,
cold, and comfortless, with nothing but dried fish to satisfy their
hunger. Hunters sent out failed to bring in any game, but they bought
a few fresh fish from the Indians. On the 15th of November, however,
the sun came out, and they were able to dry their merchandise; and, the
wind falling, they loaded their canoes, and after proceeding a short
distance found a sand beach, where they made a comfortable camp. This
was in full view of the ocean, quite on the route traversed by the
Indians, many of whom visited them; and there was more or less game in
the neighborhood, for the hunters brought in two deer, some geese and
ducks, and a crane.

It was now almost winter, and the travellers began to look out for a
place where they might build their winter camp. The Indians reported
deer and elk reasonably abundant on the opposite side of the bay; but,
on the other hand, the explorers wished to be near the ocean, that
they might provide themselves with salt, and also for the chance of
meeting some of the trading vessels, which were expected in the course
of the next two or three months. The rain continued and the hunters
were unsuccessful. A diet of dried fish was making the men ill, and the
prospects were not bright. However, on the 2d of December, one of the
hunters killed an elk, the first taken on the west side of the Rocky
Mountains; and we may imagine how much its flesh was enjoyed after the
long diet of roots and fish. And now for some time deer and elk were
killed in great abundance; but the continued wet weather caused much
of the flesh to spoil. The Indians seemed to be taking a good many
salmon--presumably in the salt water of the bay--and they had many
berries.

Christmas and New Year’s passed, and in the first days of January
there came the news that a whale had been cast up on the beach. All
the Indians hurried to it; and following them went Captain Clark and
some of the men, and with them Chaboneau and his wife, the latter
extremely anxious to venture to the edge of the salt water and to see
the enormous “fish” which had come ashore. The skeleton of the whale
measured one hundred and five feet in length.

“While smoking with the Indians, Captain Clark was startled about ten
o’clock by a loud, shrill cry from the opposite village, on hearing
which all the natives immediately started up to cross the creek, and
the guide informed him that some one had been killed. On examination,
one of our men was discovered to be absent, and a guard was despatched,
who met him crossing the creek in great haste. An Indian belonging to
another band, and who happened to be with the Killamucks that evening,
had treated him with much kindness, and walked arm in arm with him to a
tent, where our man found a Chinnook squaw who was an old acquaintance.
From the conversation and manner of the stranger, this woman discovered
that his object was to murder the white man for the sake of the few
articles on his person; and when he rose and pressed our man to go to
another tent, where they would find something better to eat, she held
McNeal by the blanket. Not knowing her object, he freed himself from
her, and was going on with his pretended friend, when she ran out
and gave a shriek which brought the men of the village over, and the
stranger ran off before McNeal knew what had occasioned the alarm.”

With a small load of blubber and oil, the party returned to the fort,
where they found that game was still being killed, and endeavored to
jerk some of it. Much is said in the journal about the various Indian
tribes of the neighborhood, their method of hunting and fishing, their
habitations, and their dress and implements. The canoes, and the skill
in managing them, excited the unfeigned admiration of the white men;
and the fact that such canoes could be constructed by people without
axes, and armed only with a chisel, made of an old file, about an inch
or an inch and a half in width, seemed to them very extraordinary. It
was noted that some of the Indians, especially the women, appeared to
tattoo the legs and arms; and on the arm of one woman was read the name
J. Bowman; perhaps some trader who had visited the locality. Among
these people women were very well treated, and old age was highly
respected.




CHAPTER XII

LEWIS AND CLARK

V


The winter was spent chiefly in procuring food and in observing
the natives and the geography of the neighboring country, and the
expedition had not expected to leave their permanent camp, Fort
Clatsop, before the first of April. By the first of March, however, the
elk, on which they chiefly depended for food, had moved away to ascend
the mountains, and their trade goods being almost exhausted, they
were too poor to purchase food from the Indians. It was evident that
they must start back up the river, in the hope of there finding food,
and must reach the point where they had left their horses before the
Indians there should have moved off across the mountains or dispersed
over the country.

During the winter they had worked hard at dressing skins, so that they
were now well clad, and had besides three or four hundred pairs of
moccasins. They still had also one hundred and forty pounds of powder
and about twice that weight of lead, quite enough to carry them back.

On the 23d of March, therefore, after giving certificates to some of
the Indian chiefs, and leaving tacked up on one of their cabins a
notice of their successful crossing of the continent and their start
back, they set out in two canoes up the Columbia. As they passed along
they at first found little difficulty in securing provisions from the
acquaintances they had made while descending the river; and besides
this, the hunters killed some game. Before long, however, they began
to meet Indians coming down the river who informed them that they had
been driven from the Great Rapids by lack of provisions, their winter
store of dried fish having become exhausted, and the salmon not being
expected for a month or more. This was dismal news to people who were
ascending the river in the hope of obtaining provisions, but there was
nothing for them to do except to keep on, living on the country as well
as they could, trying to reach the place where they had left their
horses before the Indians should have departed. Their hunters succeeded
in killing some deer and elk on the south side of the river, though
there seemed no game on the north. Besides that, the deer killed were
so extremely thin in flesh that it hardly seemed worth while to bring
them into camp.

Many of the Indians still stood in great fear of the “medicine” of
the white men; and Captain Clark, returning from a short exploring
trip, saw an example of this. “On entering one of the apartments of
the house, Captain Clark offered several articles to the Indians in
exchange for wappatoo; but they appeared sullen and ill-humored, and
refused to give him any. He therefore sat down by the fire opposite to
the men, and, drawing a portfire match from his pocket, threw a small
piece of it into the flames; at the same time he took out his pocket
compass, and by means of a magnet which happened to be in his inkhorn,
made the needle turn round very briskly. The match immediately took
fire, and burned violently, on which the Indians, terrified at this
strange exhibition, brought a quantity of wappatoo and laid it at his
feet, begging him to put out the bad fire; while an old woman continued
to speak with great vehemence, as if praying and imploring protection.
After receiving the roots, Captain Clark put up the compass, and, as
the match went out of itself, tranquillity was restored, though the
women and children still sought refuge in their beds and behind the
men. He now paid them for what he had used, and, after lighting his
pipe and smoking with them, continued down the river.”

The hunters still were killing some game, but it was so thin as to
be unfit for use; six deer and an elk were left in the timber, while
two deer and a bear were brought in. The wappatoo was now largely the
food of all the Indians. The bulb, which grows in all the ponds of the
interior, is gathered by the women, who, standing in deep water, feel
about in the mud for the roots of the plant and detach the bulbs with
their toes; these rise to the surface and are thrown into the canoe.
The roots are like a small potato and are light and very nutritious.

A few days later they obtained from the Indians the skin of a “sheep”
(mountain goat), which is described so that there is no doubt about
the identification. The hunters also killed three black-tailed deer.
Near Sepulcher Rock, a burial-place for the surrounding tribes, Captain
Clark crossed the river in the endeavor to purchase a few horses, by
which they might transport their baggage and some provisions across the
mountains, but in this he was unsuccessful. However, some Indians were
met, who promised a little later to meet them and furnish some horses.
At the foot of the Great Narrows four were purchased to assist in
carrying the baggage and the outfit over the portage.

The Indians at the upper end were rejoicing over the catching of
the first salmon; and they were so good-natured that they sold the
white men four more horses for two kettles, which reduced the stock
of kettles to one. There was a good deal of trouble here from thefts
by the Indians, and from their practice of trading articles and
then returning and giving back the price that they had received and
demanding articles that had been traded. So annoying did this become,
that Captain Clark declared to the Indians in council assembled that
the next man caught thieving would be shot; and a little bit later
he was obliged to threaten to burn the village. At last, however,
they got away, with ten horses, and proceeding up the river secured
a few others. By this time they had exhausted pretty much all their
trade goods, and the capacity to buy was about at an end. The Indian
tribes that they were passing now did not seem to be particularly
friendly and held themselves aloof; but a chief of the Walla Wallas,
whom they met a little later, treated them most hospitably, and in
striking contrast to the people that they had lately seen. This chief
presented Captain Clark with a fine horse, and received in return a
sword, one hundred balls, some powder, and some other small presents.
The chief helped them cross the river in his canoes, and they camped
on the Columbia, at the mouth of the Walla Walla River. They now
possessed twenty-three horses, and on the whole were in pretty good
shape, except that they had but little food and had nothing left which
they could trade for food. About the first of May they met a party of
Indians, consisting of one of the chiefs of the Nez Percés who had gone
down Lewis River with them the previous year and had been of great
service to them, and had now come to meet them. They were now out of
provisions, but at an Indian camp not far off managed to obtain two
lean dogs and some roots. As they went on they learned that most of the
Nez Percés were scattered out gathering spring roots, but the Indian in
whose charge their horses had been left was not far away.

At this point the explorers were applied to by two or three persons who
were ill, and their simple treatment benefiting the Indians, their fame
greatly increased. The white men were careful to give the Indians only
harmless medicine, trying to assist nature rather than to do anything
that was radical. The Indians who had been benefited gave material
evidence of their gratitude.

Since they had been on the Columbia River the Indians had made great
fun of the white men because they ate dogs, and it was just after
their experience in doctoring, but at another village, that “an Indian
standing by, and looking with great derision at our eating dog’s flesh,
threw a poor half-starved puppy almost into Captain Lewis’s plate,
laughing heartily at the humor of it. Captain Lewis took up the animal
and flung it back with great force into the fellow’s face, and seizing
his tomahawk, threatened to cut him down if he dared to repeat such
insolence. He immediately withdrew, apparently much mortified, and we
continued our dog repast very quietly.” Continuing their journey, they
were again applied to for medical advice and assistance, but declined
to practice without remuneration. One or two small operations were
performed, and a woman who had been treated, declaring the next day
that she felt much better, her husband brought up a horse, which they
at once killed.

Having crossed the river, on the advice of the Indians that more game
was to be found, they kept on their way, and the day after the hunters
brought in four deer, which, with the remains of the horse, gave them
for the moment an abundant supply of food. Here they met Twisted Hair,
in whose charge they had left their horses. He told them that, owing
to the care that he had taken of their horses, he had been obliged to
quarrel with other chiefs, who were jealous of him, and that finally
he had given up the care of the horses, which were now scattered. They
soon recovered twenty-one of their horses--most of which were in good
condition--a part of their saddles, and some powder and lead which had
been put in the cache with them. The Indians gave them two fat young
horses for food, asking nothing in return, and the hospitality and
generosity of these Indians made a great impression on the white men,
who were now disposed to treat them with a great deal more courtesy and
consideration than had been their custom. Captain Lewis at this meeting
is quite enthusiastic about these Chopunnish Indians, whom he describes
as industrious, cleanly, and generous--a report quite different from
that made on the way down the river.

At the village where they camped May 11, the Indians lived in a single
house, one hundred and fifty feet long, built of sticks, straw, and
dried grass. It contained about twenty-four fires, about double that
number of families, and might muster, perhaps, one hundred fighting
men. The difficulty of talking to these Indians was great, for Captains
Lewis and Clark were obliged to speak in English to one of the men, who
translated this in French to Chaboneau, who interpreted to his wife
in Minnetari; she told it in Shoshoni to a young Shoshoni prisoner,
who finally explained it to the Nez Percés in their own tongue. After
the council was over, the wonders of the compass, the spy-glass, the
magnet, the watch, and the air-gun were all shown to the Indians. Here
they were obliged also to do a good deal of doctoring, and finally
another council was held, at which it was agreed by the Indians to
follow the advice of Captains Lewis and Clark. Presents were made by
the Indians to the whites, and to each chief was given a flag, a
pound of powder, and fifty balls, and the same to the young men who
had presented horses to them. They also paid the man who had charge of
their horses, in part, agreeing with him to give the balance so soon as
the remainder of the horses were brought in.

On the 14th of May they crossed the river and made a camp, where they
purposed to wait until the snow had melted in the mountains. The
hunters killed two bears and some small game, much of which they gave
to the Indians, to whom it was a great treat, since they seldom had a
taste of flesh. Many patients continued to be brought to them, whom
they doctored, and with some success.

Early in June they began to make preparations to cross the mountains,
though the Indians told them it would be impossible to do this before
about the first of July. They were now well provided with animals,
each man having a good riding horse, with a second horse for a pack,
and some loose horses to be used in case of accident or for food. The
salmon had not yet come up the river. They started on the 15th of June
in a rain, and on the way found three deer, which their hunters had
killed. They soon began to climb the mountains, and before long found
themselves travelling over hard snow, which bore up their horses well;
but it was evident that the journey would be too long to make, since
for several days’ travel there would be no food for the animals. So
they were obliged to turn back and wait for the warmer weather.

Two men who had been sent back to the Indian village to hurry up the
Indians who had promised to cross the mountains with them, and make
peace with the Indians on the upper Missouri, returned with three
Indians who agreed to go with them to the falls of the Missouri. A
little later they started again, usually keeping on the divide, in
order to head all streams and not cross any running water. The country
was completely covered with snow. On the 26th of June they camped high
up on the mountains, where there was good food for the horses. The
travelling was pleasant, the snow hard. Their provisions had now about
given out, however, except that they still had some roots; but now and
then a deer was killed, which kept them from absolute starvation.

By July 1 they had reached a country where game was quite abundant,
deer, elk, and big-horn being plenty in the neighborhood. It was
determined to divide the party and to cover more country on the return
than they had when coming out. Captain Lewis, with nine men, was to go
to the falls of the Missouri, leave three men there to prepare carts
for transporting baggage and canoes across the portage, and with the
remaining six to ascend Maria’s River and explore the country there.
The remainder of the party were to go to the head of the Jefferson
River, where nine men under Sergeant Ordway should descend it with the
canoes. Captain Clark’s party was to go to the Yellowstone, there build
canoes, and go down that river with seven men; while Sergeant Pryor,
with two others, should take the horses overland to the Mandans, and
thence go north to the British posts on the Assiniboine and induce
Mr. Henry to persuade some of the Sioux chiefs to go with him to
Washington. This plan was carried out.

Captain Lewis kept on to the Dearborn River. This was a good game
country and they made rapid progress, and before long found themselves
at their old station, White Bear Island. During the flood of the river
the water had entered their cache and spoiled much of their property.
They had much trouble here with lost horses, and one of their men,
riding suddenly upon a bear, his horse wheeled and threw him, and the
bear drove him up a tree where he was kept all day.

Captain Lewis now started to explore the Maria’s River, and, following
it up, almost reached the foot of the Rocky Mountains. Here they met a
band of Indians, who stated that they were Gros Ventres of the Prairie,
or, as Lewis and Clark put it, Minnetari of Fort de Prairie, and who,
after some hesitation, appeared to be friendly enough, and smoked with
Captain Lewis. They expressed themselves as willing to be at peace
with the Indians across the mountains, but said that those Indians had
lately killed a number of their relations. Captain Lewis kept a very
close watch, fearing that the Indians would steal his horses. This did
not happen, but on the following day, July 27, the Indians seized the
rifles of four of the party. As soon as Fields and his brother saw
the Indian running off with their two rifles they pursued him, and,
overtaking him, stabbed him through the heart with a knife. The other
guns were recovered without killing any of the Indians; but as they
were trying to drive off the horses, Captain Lewis ordered the men to
follow up the main party, who were driving the horses, and shoot them.
He himself ran after two other Indians, who were driving away another
bunch of horses, and so nearly overtook them that they left twelve
of their own animals but continued to drive off one belonging to the
white men. Captain Lewis had now run as far as he could, and calling to
the Indians several times that unless they gave up the horse he would
shoot, he finally did so, and killed an Indian. The other men now began
to come up, having recovered a considerable number of the horses; they
had lost one of their own horses and captured four belonging to the
Indians. They now retreated down the river with the horses that they
had, but took nothing from the Indians’ camp.

These Indians were probably not Gros Ventres, as stated in the Lewis
and Clark journal. Precisely the same story was told me in the year
1888 by the oldest Indian in the Blackfoot camp, as having been
witnessed by him in his boyhood on Birch Creek, a branch of the
Maria’s. Wolf Calf, the narrator, was considered much the oldest Indian
in the Piegan camp, and was supposed to be more than ninety-five years
old. The Indian killed by Fields was named Side Hill Calf. He said that
he was a boy with the Indian war party.

Captain Lewis, believing that they would be promptly pursued by a
much larger party of Indians and attacked, at once began a retreat.
The Indian horses which had been captured proved good ones, the
plains were level, and they rode hard for more than eighty miles, only
stopping twice to kill a buffalo and to rest their horses. They stopped
at two o’clock in the morning, and at daylight started on again, and at
last when they reached the Missouri they heard the report of a gun, and
then a number of reports and before long had the satisfaction of seeing
their friends going down the river. They landed, and Captain Lewis’s
party, after turning loose the horses, embarked, with the baggage,
and kept on down the stream. Before long they met Sergeants Gass and
Willard, who were bringing down horses from the falls, and now the
whole party had come together, except Captain Clark’s outfit, which had
gone down the Yellowstone.

The journey down the Missouri was quickly made, and at the mouth of the
Yellowstone a note was found from Captain Clark, who had gone on before
them. Not far below this Captain Lewis, while hunting elk on a willow
grove sand-bar, was shot in the thigh by his companion, Cruzatte, who
apparently mistook him for an elk, he being clad in buckskin. At first
Captain Lewis thought that they had been attacked by Indians, but no
signs of Indians being found, the conclusion that Cruzatte had shot
him, apparently by mistake, seemed inevitable. On August 12 they met
Captain Clark’s party, whose adventures had been much less startling
than theirs. His party had started up Wisdom River, on the west side
of the mountains, and, crossing over to the head of the Jefferson, had
passed through a beautiful country--the Beaverhead--very lovely in its
surroundings, with fertile soil, and abounding in game.

Most of the party had gone down the river in canoes, but a few men
had been left on the land to drive down the horses. A part of these,
under Sergeant Ordway, kept on down the river, while at the mouth
of the Madison, Captain Clark, with ten men and the wife and child
of Chaboneau, taking the fifty horses, crossed over to go to the
Yellowstone and descend it. When they reached the Yellowstone, they
followed it down for some little time, through a country abounding in
buffalo, deer, and elk. Very likely they would have gone on farther
but for an accident to one of the men, who was so badly hurt that he
could not sit on his horse. Small timber being found, canoes were
constructed, which were lashed together and loaded preparatory to
setting out. While all this was being done, twenty-four of their horses
disappeared, and a little search showed a piece of rope and a moccasin,
which made it clear that the horses had been run off by the Indians.
Sergeant Pryor, with two men, was ordered to take the remaining horses
down the river to the mouth of the Bighorn, where they could cross and
from there he was to take them to the Mandans. The canoes which went on
down the river passed various streams, and at one point came upon what
appeared to have been a medicine lodge of the Blackfeet. At a stream
to which they gave the name of Horse Creek, they found Pryor with his
animals. He had had much trouble in driving the horses, since, as many
of them had been used by the Indians in hunting buffalo, whenever
they saw a bunch of buffalo they would set off in pursuit of them. To
prevent this, Sergeant Pryor was obliged to send one man ahead of the
horse herd to drive away the buffalo.

From the top of Pompey’s Pillar Captain Clark had a wide and beautiful
prospect over the country, dotted everywhere by herds of buffalo, elk,
and wolves. Bighorn were abundant here and farther down the stream,
and the noise of the buffalo--for this was now the rutting season--was
continuous. The large herds of elk were so gentle that they might be
approached within twenty paces without being alarmed. The abundance of
buffalo was so great that the travellers were in great fear, either
that they would come into their camp at night and destroy their boats
by trampling on them, or that the herds, which were constantly crossing
the river, would upset the boats. Bears, also, were very abundant,
and quite as fierce as they had been on the Missouri. Captain Clark
killed one, the largest female that they had seen, and so old that the
canine teeth had been worn quite smooth. Mosquitoes here were terribly
abundant; several times, it is said, they alighted on the rifle barrels
in such numbers that it was impossible to take sight.

On August 8 they were joined by Sergeant Pryor and his men, who had no
horses; every one of them had been taken off the second day after they
left the party by Indians. They followed them for a short distance,
but without overtaking them; and finally coming back to the river,
built two row-boats, in which they came down the stream with the utmost
safety and comfort. On the 11th of August they met two trappers who
had left Illinois in the summer of 1804, and had spent the following
winter with the Tetons, where they had robbed and swindled a French
trader out of all his goods. They told Captain Clark that the Mandans
and Minnetaris were at war with the Arikaras, and had killed two of
them, and also that the Assiniboines were at war with the Mandans, news
which could not have been very pleasing to the explorers, whose efforts
on their way up the river had been so strong for peace.

The party having come together on August 12, they kept on down the
river, and two days later reached the village of the Mandans. Here
they had protracted councils with the Mandans and Minnetaris, and
tried hard to persuade some of them to go on with them to Washington.
Colter applied to the commanding officers for permission to join the
two trappers who had come down the river to this point, and he was
accordingly discharged, supplied with powder and lead, and a number of
other articles which might be useful to him. The next day he started
back up the river. What Colter’s subsequent adventures were is well
known to any one who has followed the course of early exploration in
the West. Colter’s Hell, if we recollect right, was the first name ever
applied to the geyser basins of the Yellowstone Park.

Though the Mandans and Minnetaris were as friendly and hospitable as
possible, and gave them great stores of corn, none of the principal men
would consent to go to Washington. They promised, however, to be more
attentive to the requests of the white men, to keep the peace with
their neighbors, and were greatly pleased and proud of the gift to the
chief of the Minnetaris, Le Borgne, of the swivel, for which Captain
Clark no longer had any use, as it could not be discharged from the
canoes on which they were travelling. Here, too, they discharged their
interpreter, Chaboneau, who wished to remain with his wife and child.
One of the chiefs, Big White, consented, with his wife and child, to
accompany the white men. Before the expedition finally left the village
there was a last talk with the Indians, who sent word to the Arikaras
by Captain Clark, inviting them to come up and meet them, and saying
that they really desired peace with the Arikaras, but that they could
place no dependence on anything that the Sioux might say.

Keeping on down the river, they found game plenty and the mosquitoes
troublesome. At the Arikara village they were well received, and
found there a camp of Cheyennes, also friendly. The Rees expressed
willingness to follow the advice that Captain Clark had given them,
but made many excuses for the failure to follow their counsels of the
year before. The Cheyenne chief invited the white men to his lodge,
and Captain Clark presented a medal to the chief, to that individual’s
great alarm, for he feared that it was “medicine” and might in some way
harm him. The Cheyennes are described as friendly and well-disposed,
though shy.

The trip down the river was unmarked by adventure. Enormous quantities
of buffalo were seen, and on the 30th of August they came upon a party
of Teton Sioux, under a chief called Black Bull. Other Sioux were seen,
and on September 3 they came to the trading post of a Mr. James Airs,
who presented each of the party with as much tobacco as he could use
for the rest of the voyage, and also gave them a barrel of flour. Below
the mouth of the Big Sioux River they passed Floyd’s grave, which they
found had been opened. Two days later they passed the trading post of
one of the Choteaus and a little later the Platte, and at last, on
September 20, reached the little village of La Charette. On September
23 they reached St. Louis and went on shore, where they received “a
most hearty and hospitable welcome from the whole village.”




CHAPTER XIII

ZEBULON M. PIKE

I


Side by side in fact--though by no means in popular estimation--with
the heroic explorers, Lewis and Clark, stands Zebulon M. Pike, the
young soldier, who first reached the sources of the Mississippi, later
those of the Arkansas, and who was one of the first genuine Americans
to see the Spanish City of the Holy Faith. Born in New Jersey in 1779,
Pike entered the army in his father’s regiment about the year 1794.
In July, 1805, a lieutenant, he was detailed, by order of General
James Wilkinson, to explore the sources of the Mississippi. From this
expedition he returned in 1806, and shortly afterward set out on an
expedition up the Kansas River to the country of the Osages, and thence
to the Kitkahahk village of the Pawnees, then on the Republican River.
From here he went westward to the sources of the Arkansas River, in
what is now Colorado. On this expedition he approached Santa Fé, was
captured by the Spaniards, and escorted south through Mexico and what
is now Texas to the Spanish-American boundary on the borders of the
present State of Louisiana, where he was set free.

It would be perhaps difficult to point out, since Revolutionary times,
a more heroic figure than that of Pike, or to name a man who did
more for his country. It is chiefly as an explorer that we must now
consider him, and must briefly tell the history of his journeyings
for two years through that country which was then Louisiana; yet his
subsequent and involuntary wanderings through Mexico and Texas cannot
be separated from his earlier travels. Some time after his return from
the Southwest, he wrote a book, which was issued four years before the
journal of Lewis and Clark. In reviewing his life of exploration, we
shall in large measure let him tell his own story.

On the 9th of August, 1805, with one sergeant, two corporals, and
seventeen privates, Pike started from St. Louis up the Mississippi
River in a keel boat seventy feet long and provisioned for four months.
The water was swift, the way hard, and they had much foul weather,
which held them back, and made their days and nights uncomfortable.
Occasionally they saw fishing camps of Indians, and passed the farms of
some Frenchmen, lately transferred without their knowledge or consent
from allegiance to old France to citizenship in the new United States.

[Illustration: LIEUTENANT ZEBULON MONTGOMERY PIKE, MONUMENT AT COLORADO
SPRINGS, COLORADO.]

One of Pike’s especial duties was to conciliate the Indians he
met, and, so far as possible, to arrange for peace between warring
aboriginal tribes. On the 20th he came to a Sac village, where he had a
talk with the Indians, who listened to him respectfully, and appeared
to agree to what he said. Further along he met villages of the
Reynards, or Foxes, showing that at this time the Sacs and Foxes were
living separately, though allies.

The way was long, and progress, though often covering thirty or forty
miles a day, was slow, owing to the windings of the river. Pike was
now approaching that debatable land over which the Sioux and Sauteurs
or Ojibwas were continually fighting backward and forward. He tells of
meeting, September 1, Monsieur Dubuque, who told him that these tribes
were then engaged in active hostilities, and, among other things, that
a war party “composed of Sacs, Reynards, and Puants (Winnebagoes),
of 200 warriors, had embarked on an expedition against the Sauteurs,
but they had heard that the chief, having had an unfavorable dream,
persuaded the party to return, and that I would meet them on my
voyage.” This is interesting, as showing that at this time the Sacs
and Foxes, who are of Algonquin stock, had allied themselves with the
Winnebagoes of Siouan stock against people of the latter race.

Indians were abundant here, and were always on the lookout for
enemies. The firing of guns by Pike’s party, who had landed to shoot
wild pigeons, was the signal for some Indians in the neighborhood to
rush to their canoes and hastily embark. Indeed, Pike was told that
all the Indians had a dread of Americans, whom they believed to be
very quarrelsome, very brave, and very much devoted to going to war;
a reputation which had undoubtedly reached the savages through the
English and French traders.

A little further along, the Ouisconsing River was reached, and they
met the Fols Avoin Indians, the Menominees, a tribe still existing at
Green Bay, Wisconsin. Further on he had a meeting with a number of
Sioux and Pike reports the council:

“On the arrival opposite the lodges, the men were paraded on the bank
with their guns in their hands. They saluted us with ball with what
might be termed three rounds; which I returned with three rounds from
each boat with my blunderbusses. This salute, although nothing to
soldiers accustomed to fire, would not be so agreeable to many people;
as the Indians had all been drinking, and as some of them even tried
their dexterity, to see how near the boat they could strike. They may,
indeed, be said to have struck on every side of us. When landed, I had
my pistols in my belt and sword in hand. I was met on the bank by the
chief, and invited to his lodge. As soon as my guards were formed and
sentinels posted, I accompanied him. Some of my men who were going up
with me I caused to leave their arms behind as a mark of confidence. At
the chief’s lodge I found a clean mat and pillow for me to sit on, and
the before-mentioned pipe on a pair of small crutches before me. The
chief sat on my right hand, my interpreter and Mr. Frazer on my left.
After smoking, the chief spoke to the following purport.

“‘That notwithstanding he had seen me at the Prairie (du Chien), he was
happy to take me by the hand among his own people, and there show his
young men the respect due to their new father (President Jefferson).
That, when at St. Louis in the spring, his father (General Wilkinson)
had told him that if he looked down the river he would see one of his
young warriors (Pike) coming up. He now found it true, and he was happy
to see me, who knew the Great Spirit was the father of all, both the
white and the red people; and if one died the other could not live
long. That he had never been at war with their new father, and hoped
always to preserve the same understanding that now existed. That he now
presented me with a pipe, to show to the upper bands as a token of our
good understanding, and that they might see his work and imitate his
conduct. That he had gone to St. Louis on a shameful visit, to carry a
murderer; but that we had given the man his life, and he thanked us for
it. That he had provided something to eat, but he supposed I could not
eat it, and if not, to give it to my young men.’

“I replied: ‘That although I had told him at the Prairie my business
up the Mississippi, I would again relate it to him.’ I then mentioned
the different objects I had in view with regard to the savages who had
fallen under our protection by our late purchase from the Spaniards;
the different posts to be established; the objects of these posts as
related to them, supplying them with necessaries, having officers and
agents of Government near them to attend to their business; and above
all, to endeavor to make peace between the Sioux and Sauteurs. ‘That if
it was possible on my return I should bring some of the Sauteurs down
with me, and take with me some of the Sioux chiefs to St. Louis, there
to settle the long and bloody war which had existed between the two
nations. That I accepted his pipe with pleasure, as the gift of a great
man, the chief of four bands, and a brother; that it should be used as
he desired.’ I then eat of the dinner he had provided, which was very
grateful. It was wild rye [rice] and venison, of which I sent four
bowls to my men.

“I afterward went to a dance, the performance of which was attended
with many curious maneuvers. Men and women danced indiscriminately.
They were all dressed in the gayest manner; each had in the hand a
small skin of some description, and would frequently run up, point
their skin, and give a puff with their breath, when the person blown
at, whether man or woman, would fall, and appear to be almost lifeless,
or in great agony, but would recover slowly, rise, and join in the
dance. This they called their great medicine, or, as I understood the
word, dance of religion, the Indians believing that they actually
puffed something into each others’ bodies which occasioned the falling,
etc. It is not every person who is admitted; persons wishing to join
them must first make valuable presents to the society to the amount of
forty or fifty dollars, give a feast, and then be admitted with great
ceremony. Mr. Frazer informed me that he was once in the lodge with
some young men who did not belong to the club; when one of the dancers
came in they immediately threw their blankets over him and forced him
out of the lodge; he laughed, but the young Indians called him a fool,
and said ‘he did not know what the dancer might blow into his body.’

“I returned to my boat, sent for the chief, and presented him with two
carrots of tobacco, four knives, half a pound of vermilion, and one
quart of salt. Mr. Frazer asked liberty to present them some rum; we
made up a keg between us of eight gallons--two gallons of whiskey, the
rest water. Mr. Frazer informed the chief that he dare not give them
any without my permission. The chief thanked me for all my presents,
and said ‘they must come free, as he did not ask for them.’ I replied
that ‘to those who did not ask for anything, I gave freely; but to
those who asked for much, I gave only a little or none.’

“We embarked about half-past three o’clock, came three miles, and
camped on the west side. Mr. Frazer we left behind, but he came up with
his two peroques about dusk. It commenced raining very hard. In the
night a peroque arrived from the lodges at his camp. During our stay
at their camp there were soldiers appointed to keep the crowd from
my boats, who executed their duty with vigilance and rigor, driving
men, women, and children back whenever they came near my boats. At
my departure, their soldiers said, ‘As I had shaken hands with their
chief, they must shake hands with my soldiers.’ In which request I
willingly indulged them.”

Pike was now journeying through the country passed over forty years
before by Carver, and he was evidently familiar with his journeyings.
Of La Crosse prairie he says:

“On this prairie Mr. Frazer showed me some holes dug by the Sioux when
in expectation of an attack, into which they first put their women
and children, and then crawl themselves. They were generally round
and about ten feet in diameter, but some were half-moons and quite
a breastwork. This I understood was the chief work, which was the
principal redoubt. Their modes of constructing them are, the moment
they apprehend or discover an enemy on the prairie, they commence
digging with their knives, tomahawks, and a wooden ladle; and in an
incredibly short space of time they have a hole sufficiently deep
to cover themselves and their families from the balls or arrows of
the enemy. They (enemies) have no idea of taking these subterraneous
redoubts by storm, as they would probably lose a great number of men
in the attack; and although they might be successful in the event, it
would be considered a very imprudent action.”

Heretofore but little food had been killed by the expedition, except
pigeons; but they were now getting into a country where there was more
or less game. On September 14, Pike, who had gone ashore with three
others of his party to hunt, saw abundant sign of elk, but failed to
see any of them, though his men saw three from the boat; and from this
time forth more or less mention is made of game by short entries, such
as, “Saw three bear swimming over the river.” “Killed a deer,” “killed
three geese and a raccoon,” and other similar notes.

On the 23d of September Pike held a council with the Sioux, who,
hearing by a rumor of his arrival in the country, returned from a war
party on which they had set out. He talked with these Sioux, on many
matters of which the principal one was the granting by the Indians of a
site near the Falls of St. Anthony for a military post, as well as the
establishment of peace between the Ojibwas and Sioux. Three important
chiefs named Little Crow, Risen Moose, and the Son of Pinchow, replied,
promising him about a hundred thousand acres of land, as well as a safe
conduct for himself and such Ojibwa chiefs as he might bring back with
him. They were doubtful, however, about the prospects of making a peace
with their old-time enemies. The treaty, or grant, was drawn up and
signed, and the Sioux returned to their homes.

The following day the flag from Pike’s boat was missing. This he
naturally regarded as a very serious misfortune. He punished his
sentry, and calling up his friend, Risen Moose, told him of the
trouble, and urged him to try to recover the flag, for he was not by
any means sure that it had not been stolen by an Indian. However, the
next day he was called out of bed by Little Crow, some of whose people
had found the flag floating in the water below their village, and
believing that this must mean that the white men had been attacked,
Little Crow had come up to see what the matter was. The appearance of
the flag at Little Crow’s village had put an end to a quarrel which
was in progress between his people and those of a chief called White
Goose. Pike says: “The parties were charging their guns, and preparing
for action, when lo! the flag appeared like a messenger of peace
sent to prevent their bloody purposes. They were all astonished to
see it. The staff was broken. Then Petit Corbeau arose and spoke to
this effect: ‘That a thing so sacred had not been taken from my boat
without violence; that it would be proper for them to hush all private
animosities until they had revenged the cause of their eldest brother;
that he would immediately go up to St. Peter’s to know what dogs had
done that thing, in order to take steps to get satisfaction of those
who had done the mischief.’ They all listened to this reasoning; he
immediately had the flag put out to dry, and embarked for my camp.
I was much concerned to hear of the blood likely to have been shed,
and gave him five yards of blue stroud, three yards of calico, one
handkerchief, one carrot of tobacco, and one knife, in order to make
peace among his people. He promised to send my flag by land to the
falls, and to make peace with Outard Blanche.” The flag was returned
two days later by two young Indians, who had brought it overland.

It was now October, and clear weather, the thermometer falling
sometimes to zero. Hitherto the principal food killed had been
geese, swans, and prairie chickens; but on October 6 Pike saw his
first elk--two droves of them. As they kept on up the river, geese,
ducks, and grouse, with occasionally a deer, continued to be secured.
Frequently Pike found hanging to the branches of the trees sacrifices
left there by the Indians. These were sometimes bits of cloth, or
articles of clothing, or painted skins. As the weather grew colder, and
ice was often met with, Pike began to think of a place where he should
winter. The boats were becoming very leaky, and the men, terribly
overworked, were losing strength and becoming inefficient. He therefore
determined to make a permanent camp, afterward called Pike’s Fort, and
to leave a part of his men there in blockhouses while he proceeded up
the river; but before the separation took place, there was much to be
done. Happily, the country abounded in game, so that for those who were
to be left behind there would be no danger of starvation. Pike went out
one morning and killed four bears, while his hunters killed three deer.

Log houses were built, and several small canoes were made for travel
on the river. But after his canoes were launched and loaded, one of
them sank and wet his ammunition, and in endeavoring to dry the powder
in pots he blew up the powder and the tent in which he was working.
It being necessary to build another canoe, Pike again went off to
hunt to a stream where much elk and buffalo sign had been seen. The
day following was spent in hunting, but with very little result; and
the account which Pike gives of it shows how little the explorer and
his party knew about the game that they were pursuing, or the proper
methods of securing it. He says: “I was determined, if we came on a
trail of elk, to follow them a day or two in order to kill one. This,
to a person acquainted with the nature of those animals and the extent
of the prairie in this country, would appear--what it really was--a
very foolish resolution. We soon struck where a herd of one hundred
and fifty had passed; pursued, and came in sight about eight o’clock,
when they appeared, at a distance, like an army of Indians moving along
in single file; a large buck, of at least four feet between the horns,
leading the van, and one of equal magnitude, bringing up the rear. We
followed until near night without once being able to get within point
blank shot. I once made Miller fire at them with his musket at about
four hundred yards’ distance; it had no other effect than to make them
leave us about five miles behind on the prairie. Passed several deer in
the course of the day, which I think we could have killed, but did not
fire for fear of alarming the elk. Finding that it was no easy matter
to kill one, I shot a doe through the body, as I perceived by her
blood where she lay down in the snow; yet, not knowing how to track,
we lost her. Shortly after saw three elk by themselves, near a copse
of woods. Approached near them and broke the shoulder of one, but he
ran off with the other two just as I was about to follow. Saw a buck
deer lying on the grass; shot him between the eyes, when he fell over.
I walked up to him, put my foot on his horns, and examined the shot;
immediately after which he snorted, bounced up, and fell five steps
from me. This I considered his last effort; but soon after, to our
utter astonishment, he jumped up and ran off. He stopped frequently;
we pursued him, expecting him to fall every minute; by which we were
led from the pursuit of the wounded elk. After being wearied out in
this unsuccessful chase, we returned in pursuit of the wounded elk,
and when we came up to the party, found him missing from the flock.
Shot another in the body, but my ball being small, he likewise escaped.
Wounded another deer; when, hungry, cold, and fatigued, after having
wounded three deer and two elk, we were obliged to encamp in a point
of hemlock woods on the head of Clear River. The large herd of elk lay
about one mile from us in the prairie. Our want of success I ascribe to
the smallness of our balls, and to our inexperience in following the
track after wounding the game, for it is very seldom a deer drops on
the spot you shoot it.

“Sunday, November 3.--Rose pretty early and went in pursuit of the elk.
Wounded one buck deer on the way. We made an attempt to drive them into
the woods, but their leader broke past us, and it appeared as if the
drove would have followed him, though they had been obliged to run over
us. We fired at them passing, but without effect. Pursued them through
the swamp until about ten o’clock, when I determined to attempt to
make the river, and for that purpose took a due south course. Passed
many droves of elk and buffalo, but being in the middle of an immense
prairie, knew it was folly to attempt to shoot them. Wounded several
deer but got none. In fact, I knew I could shoot as many deer as
anybody, but neither myself nor company could find one in ten, whereas
one experienced hunter would get all. Near night struck a lake about
five miles long and two miles wide. Saw immense droves of elk on both
banks. About sundown saw a herd crossing the prairie toward us. We
sat down. Two bucks, more curious than the others, came pretty close.
I struck one behind the fore shoulder; he did not go more than twenty
yards before he fell and died. This was the cause of much exultation,
because it fulfilled my determination; and, as we had been two days
and nights without victuals, it was very acceptable. Found some scrub
oak. In about one mile made a fire, and with much labor and pains got
our meat to it, the wolves feasting on one half while we were carrying
away the other. We were now provisioned, but were still in want of
water, the snow being all melted. Finding my drought very excessive in
the night, I went in search of water, and was much surprised, after
having gone about a mile, to strike the Mississippi. Filled my hat and
returned to my companions.

“November 4.--Repaired my moccasins, using a piece of elk’s bone as an
awl. We both went to the Mississippi and found we were a great distance
from the camp. I left Miller to guard the meat, and marched for camp.
Having strained my ankles in the swamps, they were extremely sore, and
the strings of my moccasins cut them and made them swell considerably.
Before I had gone far I discovered a herd of ten elk; approached within
fifty yards and shot one through the body. He fell on the spot, but
rose again and ran off. I pursued him at least five miles, expecting
every minute to see him drop. I then gave him up. When I arrived at
Clear River, a deer was standing on the other bank. I killed him on the
spot, and while I was taking out the entrails another came up. I shot
him also. This was my last ball, and then only could I kill! Left part
of my clothes at this place to scare the wolves. Arrived at my camp at
dusk, to the great joy of our men, who had been to our little garrison
to inquire for me, and receiving no intelligence, had concluded we were
killed by the Indians, having heard them fire on the opposite bank. The
same night we saw fires on the opposite shore in the prairie; this was
likewise seen in the fort, when all the men moved into the works.”

It was now the middle of November, and the river was closing up. Pike
was obliged to hunt practically all the time, and was impatient of the
slavish life led by the hunter, and the necessity of working all the
time to support his party. Under such conditions the pursuit of game
becomes work, and not play.

After the winter had finally set in, Indians began to be seen; some of
them Sioux--Yanktons, and Sissetons--and some Menominees.

A considerable part of the month of December was spent at various camps
along the Mississippi River, below the mouth of the Crow Wing River,
and the time was devoted to killing game and making preparations for
the northward journey. About the middle of the month Pike started with
sleds, sometimes hauled by men across the prairies, and sometimes along
the ice on the river, wherever it was heavy enough to bear the load.
The way was hard, and sometimes only short trips could be made with the
sleds. As there was little or no snow, the men were obliged to double
up, hauling a sled for a short distance, and then leaving it to go
back and haul the next one along. One of the sleds broke through the
ice, and everything it contained was wetted, including a considerable
portion of the powder. Pike found his various duties laborious, for he
was at once “hunter, spy, guide, commanding officer, etc.”

In January he met a Mr. Grant, an English trader, by whom he was
hospitably received and well treated. About the middle of the month,
finding that his sleds were too heavy to be hauled through the snow, he
manufactured toboggans, which would be more easily hauled, even though
they carried smaller loads.

On the first of February he reached Lake La Sang Sue, now known
as Leech Lake. This Pike believed to be the main source of the
Mississippi. The lake crossed, he stopped at a trading-post of the
Northwest Fur Company, where his men arrived five days later. Here
he hoisted the American flag in place of the English flag which he
had found still flying; and after a few days went north to Upper Red
Cedar Lake, which we now know as Cass Lake, Minnesota. This was a
country passed over in 1798 by David Thompson, a great explorer, whose
journeyings, together with those of Alexander Henry, the younger, were
edited by Dr. Elliott Coues.

Pike was now in the country of the Chippewas, whom he knew by their
other name, Sauteurs, and on July 16 held a council with them,
notifying them that the country was no longer in the possession of the
British, advising them to make peace with the Sioux, and asking some
of their chiefs to go with him to St. Louis, where they should see
General Wilkinson. His talk with the Indians was pleasantly received,
and they made no difficulty about giving up their flags and medals,
which were to be replaced by flags and medals of the Americans. Two
well-known young men of the Sauteurs, living hereabout, expressed their
willingness to accompany the explorer to St. Louis, and a day or two
later Pike struck out in a southerly and south-easterly direction, to
return to his fort on the Mississippi. He reached that river about
March 1, and found all his people well.

Pike was now prepared to start south as soon as the river broke up, and
to report success in all directions; a success due entirely to his own
astonishing energy and industry, for he alone had made the expedition
what it was. Something of what he felt he expressed when he wrote:

“Ascended the mountain which borders the prairie. On the point of it
I found a stone on which the Indians had sharpened their knives, and
a war-club half finished. From this spot you may extend the eye over
vast prairies with scarcely any interruption but clumps of trees, which
at a distance appear like mountains, from two or three of which the
smoke rising in the air denoted the habitation of the wandering savage,
and too often marked them out as victims to their enemies, from whose
cruelty I have had the pleasure in the course of the winter and through
a wilderness of immense extent to relieve them, as peace has reigned
through my mediation from the prairie Des Chiens to the lower Red
River. If a subaltern with but twenty men at so great a distance from
the seat of his Government could effect so important a change in the
minds of these savages, what might not a great and independent power
effect, if, instead of blowing up the flames of discord, they exerted
their influence in the sacred cause of peace?”

He was frequently seeing Indians, and he was treated with great respect
and hospitality by all of them. He was especially impressed by his
neighbors, the Menominees, in whom he recognized many good qualities.

On the morning of April 7, 1806, the party started on the return
journey, and made good time down the river, reaching the Falls of St.
Anthony, where Minneapolis now stands, on the morning of April 10.
Below here, on the following day, at the mouth of St. Peter’s River,
was found a camp of Sioux, including several bands, and Pike had a
talk with them. The council-house was capable of containing 300 men,
and there were forty chiefs present, and forty pipes set against the
poles. At the council all these Sioux smoked the Chippewa pipes,
excepting three, who were still mourning for their relations killed
during the winter. Within the next two or three days he met important
Sioux chiefs, Little Crow and Red Wing, who were extremely cordial, and
emphatic in expressing their wish to carry out the instructions which
Pike had given them.

From here down the river the journey was interrupted only by occasional
talks with Indians, until Prairie Des Chiens was reached, where there
were many white people, and Pike received the first news of the outside
world he had had for many months. He saw here a great game of lacrosse
on the prairie between Sioux on one side and Winnebagoes and Foxes
on the other. Councils were held here with various bands of Sioux,
and with the Winnebagoes. On April 23 they once more started down the
river, but were delayed by a head wind. Two days later Captain Many, of
the United States Army, was met on his way up the river in search of
some Osage prisoners among the Sacs and Foxes. At some of the Indian
camps passed, all the people were drunk--sure sign of the proximity of
the white men.

This practically completes Pike’s voyage, for he reached St. Louis
April 30, after an absence of eight months and twenty-two days.




CHAPTER XIV

ZEBULON M. PIKE

II


On his return to St. Louis, after nearly nine months of the hardest
possible work in the North, Pike was allowed but a short rest. Two
months and a half later he set out on his Western journey, which was to
last a year, and during which he was to meet with vicissitudes which
no one could have foreseen. It is not strange that he should have been
chosen for the work of exploration in the South-west, which had for its
object the investigation of the heads of the rivers flowing through
the newly acquired Louisiana, making acquaintance with the Indians
inhabiting the region, and putting an end to the constant wars between
the different tribes. The good results achieved along the Mississippi
had proved his especial fitness for similar work in other portions of
the new domain of the United States, and were reason enough for giving
Pike the command of this expedition. But it is altogether possible
that General Wilkinson, then the commanding officer stationed at St.
Louis, in charge of the whole Western country, may have had an ulterior
object in sending Pike to investigate the Spanish boundaries of the
South-west. It had been more than suspected that in some way Wilkinson
was mixed up with the Aaron Burr conspiracy. Whether he was so or not,
the Spanish authorities of Mexico believed that he was, and believed
that the expedition led by Pike, of which they were informed well in
advance, was connected with this conspiracy, and had for its object the
acquiring of information detrimental to Spanish interests.

At all events the Spaniards had made every preparation to meet Pike and
to capture his party, while Pike himself was intent only on carrying
out his instructions to explore the heads of these Western rivers, and
was ignorant of the existence of Burr’s conspiracy.

On July 15, 1806, Pike sailed from St. Louis up the Missouri River.
With him were a lieutenant, a surgeon--Dr. Robinson--one sergeant, two
corporals, sixteen privates, and one interpreter--twenty-one soldiers
and two civilians--or twenty-three in all. Several of the party had
been with Pike in the North. There were fifty-one Indians who had been
redeemed from captivity among the Pottawatomies, and were now to be
returned to the Osage and Pawnee tribes, to which they belonged. Two
days after leaving St. Louis the party stopped at Mr. Morrison’s, and
there met a young man named George Henry, who wanted to go West, and
after a little time was engaged to accompany the party. He was a good
French scholar and spoke some Spanish.

Progress with the boats, which were rowed up the stream, was of course
slow, and Lieutenant Wilkinson and Dr. Robinson, with the Indians,
marched across the country, while the boats toilfully pulled up the
river. They killed some game, chiefly deer and turkeys. The Indians had
a season of mourning each day about daylight, the crying continuing for
about an hour. The interpreter told Pike that this was the custom, not
only with those who had recently lost their relatives, but also with
others who recalled to mind the loss of some friend, dead long since,
and joined the other mourners purely from sympathy. They appeared
extremely affected; tears ran down their cheeks, and they sobbed
bitterly; but in a moment they would dry their cheeks and cease their
cries. Their songs of grief ran: “My dear father exists no longer; have
pity on me, O Great Spirit! You see I cry forever; dry my tears and
give me comfort.” The warriors’ songs were: “Our enemies have slain my
father [or mother]; he is lost to me and his family; I pray to you, O
Master of Life, to preserve me until I avenge his death, and then do
with me as thou wilt.”

On the 28th of July the party reached the mouth of the Osage River, and
on the next day turned up the stream, heading for the Osage villages,
where they were to leave a part of their Indians, and were to impress
on the Osages the power and importance of the United States Government.
Game was quite abundant, and deer and turkeys were killed daily; two,
three, five, and on one day even nine deer having been taken, for the
large body of men required considerable food.

There was trouble with the Indians from time to time. Some became
jealous of their wives, and quarrelled with other men, and on one
occasion there was some pilfering. But, on the whole, Pike managed the
Indians extremely well. On the 14th of August a canoe was met coming
down the river, manned by engagees of Mr. Chouteau, of St. Louis, by
whom Pike sent letters to General Wilkinson. Relatives of the returned
Osage prisoners came out to receive them. The meeting was very tender
and affectionate, “wives throwing themselves into the arms of their
husbands, parents embracing their children, and children their parents;
brothers and sisters meeting, one from captivity, the other from the
towns; they at the same time returning thanks to the good God for
having brought them once more together; in short, the _tout ensemble_
was such as to make polished society blush when compared with those
savages, in whom the passions of the mind, whether joy, grief, fear,
anger, or revenge, have their full scope.”

Sans Oreille (one of the Osages) made them a speech: “Osage, you now
see your wives, your brothers, your daughters, your sons, redeemed from
captivity. Who did this? Was it the Spaniards? No. The French? No. Had
either of those people been governors of the country, your relatives
might have rotted in captivity, and you never would have seen them; but
Americans stretched forth their hands and they are returned to you!
What can you do in return for all this goodness? Nothing; all your
lives would not suffice to repay their goodness.” This man had children
in captivity, not one of whom the party had been able to obtain for him.

In the Osage village Pike was well received, but a few days in the
town and its neighborhood showed him some of the uncertainties of
attempting to deal with a strange people. He had great difficulty in
purchasing horses for his intended trip to the Pawnees, and where he
had secured horses, some of them were stolen from him. However, after
considerable difficulty, he got started, taking with him a number of
Osages, warriors and chiefs, whom he wished to have make peace with
the Pawnees, and also some of the redeemed Pawnee captives. From the
very start, however, the Osages were a trouble to him, for they were
constantly leaving him to return to their village, urged to do so by
dreams or by laziness, or perhaps by fear of what their reception might
be among the Pawnees. From the Osage village Pike travelled nearly
south along the Osage River for several days; and then turning west,
crossed Grand River, a tributary of the Arkansas, and going nearly
due west to the head of this stream, crossed over the divide to the
Smoky Hill fork of the Kansas River. Along Grand River game was very
abundant, and here we have a glimpse of a quality in Pike which we
must admire. “On the march,” he tells us, “we were continually passing
through large herds of buffalo, elk, and cabrie [antelope], and I have
no doubt that one hunter could support two hundred men. I prevented
the men shooting at the game, not merely because of the scarcity of
ammunition, but, as I conceived, the laws of morality forbid it also.”

On September 22 they began to meet Pawnees; and two days later others
joined them, who possessed mules, horses, bridles, and blankets,
which they had obtained of the Spaniards. Only a few of these Pawnees
wore breech cloths, most of them being clad only in buffalo robes.
On September 25 Pike had come close to the Pawnee village, which was
situated on the Republican fork of the Kansas River, quite a long way
above the mouth of the Solomon. Preparations to receive them, and to
smoke with the Osages, were made by the Pawnees. The visiting Indians
sat down on the prairie and the whites were a short distance in advance
of them. The Pawnees came out from their village, halted about a mile
from the strangers, and then, dividing into two troops, charged down
upon them, singing their war song, shouting the war cry, rattling their
lances and bows against their shields, and in all respects simulating
the character of genuine warfare. The two bodies of Pawnees passed
around the strangers and halted, and the chief of the Pawnees advanced
to the centre of the circle and shook hands. One of the Osages offered
the chief a pipe, and he smoked. The whole party then advanced to the
village, and when near to it again halted. Again the Osages sat down
in a row, facing the village, and now some of the Pawnees came to them
with pipes and invited one and another to smoke; the Osages did so,
and each received from the man whose pipe he smoked a stick, which
represented a horse. These Pawnees no doubt belonged to the Republican
Pawnees, or Kitkahahk tribe, the second in importance of the four
Pawnee tribes.

Four days later a council was held at which not less than four hundred
warriors were present. Pike’s notes of this interesting occasion were
seized by the Spanish authorities later, and he never recovered them.
He gives, however, this interesting flag incident: “The Spaniards
had left several of their flags in this village, one of which was
unfurled at the chief’s door the day of the grand council; and among
various demands and charges I gave them was that the said flag should
be delivered to me, and one of the United States’ flags received and
hoisted in its place. This, probably, was carrying the pride of nations
a little too far, as there had so lately been a large force of Spanish
cavalry at the village, which had made a great impression on the minds
of the young men, as to their power, consequence, etc., which my
appearance with twenty infantry was by no means calculated to remove.

“After the chiefs had replied to various parts of my discourse, but
were silent as to the flag, I again reiterated the demand for the flag,
adding ‘that it was impossible for the nation to have two fathers; that
they must either be the children of the Spaniards or acknowledge their
American father.’ After a silence of some time an old man rose, went
to the door, took down the Spanish flag, brought it and laid it at my
feet; he then received the American flag, and elevated it on the staff
which had lately borne the standard of his Catholic Majesty. This gave
great satisfaction to the Osage and Kans, both of whom decidedly avow
themselves to be under American protection. Perceiving that every face
in the council was clouded with sorrow, as if some great national
calamity were about to befall them, I took up the contested colors,
and told them ‘that as they had shown themselves dutiful children in
acknowledging their great American father, I did not wish to embarrass
them with the Spaniards, for it was the wish of the Americans that
their red brethren should remain peaceably around their own fires,
and not embroil themselves in any disputes between the white people;
and that for fear the Spaniards might return there in force again, I
returned them their flag, but with an injunction that it should never
be hoisted again during our stay.’ At this there was a general shout of
applause, and the charge was particularly attended to.”

The raising of the American flag by Pike in the village of the
Pawnee Republicans on September 29, 1806, marks perhaps the first
formal display of that flag by a soldier in the territory west of
the immediate banks of the Mississippi River. This has properly been
regarded as an occasion of very great importance and one well worthy of
commemoration. The Historical Society of Kansas, on September 30, 1901,
unveiled with appropriate ceremonies a monument to Pike at Cortland,
Kansas, a point which has been identified as the site of the ancient
Kitkahahk village at which he stopped, when he held his council with
the Indians, and took down the Spanish flag and raised that of his own
country.

For some days Pike remained with the Pawnees, and these must have
been days of more or less anxiety. The Indians had no sentiments of
attachment for either Americans or Spaniards, but they had undoubtedly
been much impressed by the greater power of the Spaniards, as evidenced
by the expedition which had but just left them, and they were not
without fear that wars might occur between the representatives of the
different nations, from which wars they would gain nothing and might
lose much. The Pawnee chief endeavored to turn Pike back, saying that
he had persuaded the Spaniards to forego their intention of proceeding
farther to the east, and that he had promised the Spaniards that he
would turn back the Americans. He told Pike that he must give up his
expedition and return, and that if he were unwilling to do this the
Pawnees would oppose him by force of arms. Pike, of course, declined to
turn back, and intimated that an effort to stop him would be resisted.

For some days now he was trading with the Indians for horses, but
they were unwilling to sell them, and some of those newly purchased
disappeared. However, on the 7th of October he marched from the
village, moving a little west of south. The lost horses had by this
time been returned. On the second day out he was overtaken by about
one-third of the Pawnees, who remained with them only a short time. A
little later Pike’s party discovered some elk, which they pursued, and
these running back in sight of the Pawnees were chased by them. “Then,
for the first time in my life,” said Pike, “I saw animals slaughtered
by the true savages with their original weapons, bows and arrows; they
buried the arrow up to the plume in the animal.”

They met Pawnees from time to time for a few days, and on the 15th Pike
and Dr. Robinson left the party, and lost them, not finding them until
the 18th. Their camp was on the Arkansas River, where Pike built boats,
to send Lieutenant Wilkinson and some men down the river, and so back
to the settlements. On the 28th Lieutenant Wilkinson, in a skin canoe,
made of four buffalo and two elk hides, and one wooden canoe, proceeded
down the river. The party consisted of Lieutenant Wilkinson, five white
men, and two Osage Indians.

From here for a long distance Pike’s route lay up the Arkansas River.
Soon they came into a country abounding in buffalo, antelope, and wild
horses. The antelope were so curious that they came up among the horses
to satisfy their curiosity, and the men could not resist the temptation
of killing two, although they had plenty of meat. At the report of the
gun the game “appeared astonished, and stood still until we hallowed
at them, to drive them away.” Herds of horses were seen, which came up
very close to the command. An effort was made to rope some of the wild
horses, but as the animals ridden by the men were slow, and the ropers
were without experience, the attempt was unsuccessful; and of this
Pike says: “I have since laughed at our folly, for taking wild horses
in that manner is scarcely ever attempted, even with the fleetest
horses and most expert ropers.” The method pursued by the Spanish in
Texas to capture wild horses was not unlike the old Indian fashion of
taking buffalo. “They take a few fleet horses and proceed into the
country where the wild horses are numerous. They then build a large
strong inclosure, with a door which enters a smaller inclosure; from
the entrance of the large pen they project wings out into the prairie
a great distance, and then set up bushes, to induce the horses, when
pursued, to enter into these wings. After these preparations are made
they keep a lookout for a small drove, for, if they unfortunately
should start too large a one, they either burst open the pen or fill it
up with dead bodies, and the others run over them and escape; in which
case the party are obliged to leave the place, as the stench arising
from the putrid carcasses would be insupportable; and, in addition
to this, the pen would not receive others. Should they, however,
succeed in driving in a few, say two or three hundred, they select
the handsomest and youngest, noose them, take them into the small
inclosures, and then turn out the remainder; after which, by starving,
preventing them taking any repose, and continually keeping them in
motion, they make them gentle by degrees, and finally break them to
submit to the saddle and bridle. For this business I presume there is
no nation in the world superior to the Spaniards of Texas.”

[Illustration: BUFFALO ON THE SOUTHERN PLAINS.

From Kendall’s _Narrative of the Texas Santa Fé Expedition_.]

As they proceeded westward they found the prairie covered with buffalo,
most of them cows and calves. Pike dilates on their numbers, and
speaks of the excellence of the flesh of the buffalo, which he says
was “equal to any meat I ever saw, and we feasted sumptuously on the
choice morsels.” From time to time they came upon the trail of the
Spaniards, returning to their mountain homes, and counted the fires
about which these people had encamped. Now their horses were beginning
to grow poor and weak, owing to the scanty pasturage; and now, too,
November 12, Pike passed beyond the borders of the present Kansas and
into what is now the State of Colorado.

On November 15, “at 2 o’clock in the afternoon I thought I could
distinguish a mountain to our right, which appeared like a small blue
cloud; viewed it with the spy-glass, and was still more confirmed in
my conjecture, yet only communicated it to Dr. Robinson, who was in
front with me; but in half an hour they appeared in full view before
us. When our small party arrived on the hill they with one accord gave
three cheers to the Mexican mountains. Their appearance can easily be
imagined by those who have crossed the Alleghanies; but their sides
were whiter, as if covered with snow, or a white stone. Those were a
spur of the grand western chain of mountains which divide the waters
of the Pacific from those of the Atlantic Ocean; and the spur divides
the waters which empty into the Bay of the Holy Spirit from those of
the Mississippi, as the Alleghanies do those which discharge themselves
into the latter river and the Atlantic. They appear to present a
natural boundary between the province of Louisiana and New Mexico, and
would be a defined and natural boundary.” On the same day they came to
the Purgatory River, or River of Souls. Here the Arkansas appeared to
carry much more water than below, and was apparently navigable.




CHAPTER XV

ZEBULON M. PIKE

III


On November 22, as Pike and Dr. Robinson, and Vasquez, the interpreter,
were riding ahead of the command, they met a party of sixty Pawnees
returning from an unsuccessful war party. Half of them were armed
with guns, and about half with bows, arrows and lances. They met the
white men in a very friendly manner, but crowded about them; and at
the same time treated them in so boisterous and disrespectful, and yet
good-natured a way, as to cause them some uneasiness. Pike prepared to
smoke with them, and offered them some small presents, with which they
were quite dissatisfied; so that for some time the pipes “lay unmoved,
as if they were undetermined whether to treat us as friends or enemies;
but after some time we were presented with a kettle of water, drank,
smoked and ate together.” The Pawnees treated the presents given them
with more or less contempt, and some even threw them away.

“We began to load our horses, when they encircled us and commenced
stealing everything they could. Finding it was difficult to preserve
my pistols, I mounted my horse, when I found myself frequently
surrounded; during which some were endeavoring to steal the pistols.
The doctor was equally engaged in another quarter, and all the soldiers
in their positions, in taking things from them. One having stolen my
tomahawk, I informed the chief; but he paid no respect, except to
reply that ‘they were pitiful.’ Finding this, I determined to protect
ourselves, as far as was in my power, and the affair began to take
a serious aspect. I ordered my men to take their arms and separate
themselves from the savages; at the same time declaring to them that
I would kill the first man who touched our baggage. On which they
commenced filing off immediately; we marched about the same time, and
found they had made out to steal one sword, tomahawk, broad-ax, five
canteens, and sundry other small articles. After leaving them, when I
reflected on the subject, I felt myself sincerely mortified, that the
smallness of my number obliged me thus to submit to the insults of
lawless banditti, it being the first time a savage ever took anything
from me with the least appearance of force.”

It was near the end of November. Provisions were scarce; but on the
26th, Pike killed a “new species of deer”--a blacktail, or mule deer.
The real troubles of the expedition were beginning, for the weather
was growing cold, snow fell, and the water was freezing. The men who
had started from St. Louis in July, prepared for a summer excursion,
had worn out their shoes and clothing, and were half naked, in winter,
among the high mountains of the Rockies. Some of them froze their
feet. They made such foot gear as they could from the hide of the
buffalo, but many had used up their blankets, by cutting them to pieces
for socks, and had nothing with which to cover themselves at night, no
matter how cold the weather, or how deep the snow. Pike worked backward
and forward among the canyons, on streams at the head of the Arkansas,
and passed over the divide between that river and the head waters of
the South Platte, and then back on to the Arkansas, near what is now
called the Royal Gorge. Here he came on the site of an immense Indian
camp, occupied not long before, which had a large cross in the middle;
and which, though he then did not know it, was a big camp of Kiowas and
Comanches, with whom had been a white man, James Pursley. The party
was constantly suffering for food, and often went for days without
eating, and were almost without protection from the weather. Pike
never ceased his efforts to cross the mountains to the supposed head
of the Red River (the Canadian), which he had been ordered to find.
Deep though the snow might be, and bitter the cold, with his men and
himself equally hungry and equally frozen, passing through a country
almost impracticable for horses, where the animals themselves had to be
dragged along, and often unloaded and hauled up steep mountain sides,
he kept on. On some occasions the little party of sixteen were divided
into eight different expeditions, struggling not along the trail, but
to get over the mountains, on the one hand, and on the other, to
kill something which might give food to the party. Their guns now had
begun to fail them; a number burst; others were bent and broken by the
rough usage. Even Pike, who scarcely ever permits a word of complaint
to escape him, says, on January 5, after breaking his gun: “This was
my birthday, and most fervently did I hope never to pass another so
miserably.”

Matters had reached such a point that it was useless to attempt to drag
the horses any further. Pike determined to build a small block-house,
and leave there a part of his baggage, the horses, and two men; and
then, with the remainder of their possessions on their backs, to cross
the mountains on foot, find the Red River, and send back a party to
bring on the horses and baggage by some easy route. They started on
January 14, each carrying an average of seventy pounds, and marched
nearly south, following up the stream now known as Grape Creek. They
had not gone far before the men began to freeze their feet, and
were unable to travel. They had little or no food, but, at last,
Dr. Robinson, after two days’ hunting, during which they met with
constant misfortunes, managed to kill a buffalo, loads of which were
brought back to camp. Leaving two of the disabled men behind, with as
much provision as possible, promising to send relief to them as soon
as they could, Pike and the others pushed on, making their slow way
through the deep snow. They were soon again without food; and again
the doctor and Pike, who appear to have been by all odds the men of
the party, succeeded in killing a buffalo, and satisfying the hunger
of the company. It was on this day, January 24, that Pike heard the
first complaint. One of his men declared “that it was more than human
nature could bear, to march three days without sustenance, through
snows three feet deep, and carry a burden only fit for horses.” This
was very bitter to the leader, and he administered a rebuke, which,
though severe, was so eminently just and sympathetic as to increase the
devotion which his men must have felt for such a leader.

For a little time they had food, and the weather became more mild.
Now turning to the right, they crossed through the mountains, and
came within sight of a large river, flowing nearly north and south.
This, although the explorer did not know it, was the Rio Grande del
Norte. Travelling down toward this stream, they came to a large west
branch; and here Pike determined to build a fort, for a protection for
a portion of his party, while the remainder should be sent back to
bring on the men who had been left behind at different points. Deer
were plenty, and it seemed to be a spot where life could be supported.
Pike laid out a plan for his block-house, which was on the edge of the
river, and was surrounded by a moat, and a dirt rampart.

From this point Dr. Robinson set out alone for Santa Fé. The purpose
of his trip was to spy out the land, and to learn what he could with
regard to the Spanish government, and the opportunities for trade
there. In the year 1804, Mr. Morrison, a merchant of Kaskaskia, had
sent across the plains a creole of the country, one Baptiste La Lande,
with goods which he was to trade at Santa Fé. La Lande had never
returned, and it was believed that he had remained in Santa Fé, and
had appropriated to himself the property of his employer. When Pike
was about to start on his westward expedition, Mr. Morrison made over
to him his claim on La Lande, in the hope that some of his property
might be recovered, and this claim assigned to Robinson was the pretext
for his trip to Santa Fé. In other words: Robinson was, as Dr. Coues
remarked, a spy. It is true that Spain and the United States were not
then at war, but there was a more or less hostile feeling between the
two governments; or, if not between the two governments, at least
between the citizens of the two powers residing on the borders of the
respective territories. More than that, as already stated, the Aaron
Burr conspiracy--with which Pike was wholly unacquainted--was known to
the Spaniards, as was also Pike’s starting for the west. The Spanish
authorities unquestionably connected the two things, and were disposed
to look with great suspicion on any Americans who entered their
territory.

Dr. Robinson set out for Santa Fé on the 7th of February; and until
the 16th Pike was occupied in hunting, building his block-house,
reading, and studying. On the 16th, while hunting, he discovered two
horsemen not far from him. These, when he attempted to retreat, pursued
threateningly; but if he turned about to go toward them, they retired.
As he was doubtful where he was, and uncertain if the territory was
Spanish or American, he was unwilling to act on the aggressive; but
finally he lured the horsemen so close to him that they could hardly
get away, and after a little they explained their presence. It seemed
that four days before Robinson had reached Santa Fé, and that the
Governor had sent out these scouts to learn who the strangers were. The
next day they departed for Santa Fé, which they said they would reach
on the second day.

Within the next two or three days all the men he had left behind save
two--Dougherty and Sparks--had come in; and on February 19 Sergeant
Meek, with Miller, was ordered to go back to the point where they
had left the interpreter, Vasquez, with one man and the horses, to
bring them on, and on his way to pick up Dougherty and Sparks, who,
on account of their frozen feet, had been unable to walk. Pike pays
touching tribute to the heroism of his men, saying: “I must here
remark the effect of habit, discipline, and example, in two soldiers
soliciting a command of more than one hundred and eighty miles, over
two great ridges of mountains covered with snow, inhabited by bands of
unknown savages in the interest of a nation with which we were not on
the best understanding. To perform this journey, each had about ten
pounds of venison. Only let me ask, What would our soldiers generally
think on being ordered on such a tour thus equipped? Yet these men
volunteered it with others, and were chosen, for which they thought
themselves highly honored.”

On February 26 a detachment of Spaniards, consisting of two officers,
with fifty dragoons and fifty mounted militia, reached the post.
The sentry halted them at a distance of fifty yards, and Pike made
preparations for their reception. He insisted that the Spanish troops
should be left at some little distance from the fort, while he would
meet the officers on the prairie. This was done, and then he invited
the officers to enter the fort, where he offered them his hospitality.
It was then for the first time, Pike tells us, that he knew that the
stream on which he was camped was not the Red River, meaning the
Canadian, but was the Rio del Norte, which, though known by several
other names, is what we now call the Rio Grande, and now forms the
boundary line between Texas and Mexico. The officer in command stated
that the Governor of New Mexico had ordered him to offer Pike mules,
horses, money, or whatever he might need to conduct him to the head of
the Red River, and requested Pike to visit the Governor at Santa Fé.
Pike at first declined to go without his whole command, but after a
time was persuaded to go to Santa Fé, leaving two men in the post to
meet the Sergeant and his party, and to convey to them his orders to
come to Santa Fé.

Naturally Pike did not wish to resist this invitation, or to be put in
the position of committing hostilities on the foreign soil which he had
invaded, since his orders did not commit him to any such course. Having
made the error of entering the territory of another power, he thought
it better to explain matters, rather than to commit an act which might
involve his country in war. His compliance with the request of the
Spanish officer seemed to be received by them with great satisfaction;
but, he says, “it appeared to be different with my men, who wished to
have ‘a little dust,’ as they expressed themselves, and were likewise
fearful of treachery.” After making the necessary preparations, and
leaving orders for Sergeant Meek, Pike set out with the Spaniards to
their camp on the Rio del Norte, and thence to Santa Fé. His passage
through the country was an interesting one, and everywhere he was
treated with the greatest kindness and hospitality by the people. At
the pueblo of San Juan he met the man Baptiste La Lande, who professed
to be an American, and endeavored to learn from Pike something of his
journeying and his purpose; but Pike, suspecting his designs, and after
a little talk satisfying himself as to what they were, had the man shut
in a room, and threatened him with death if he did not confess his
perfidy. La Lande was greatly frightened, and declared that he had been
ordered by the Government to find out everything possible about Pike.

Not only did the common people treat Pike’s men with great kindness
and hospitality, but the priests and those of the better class were
courteous, cordial, and very much interested in the explorer.

Santa Fé was reached March 3. It then had a supposed population of
four thousand five hundred souls, most of whom, we may imagine, turned
out to see the Americans. Pike’s visit with the Governor was brief.
He denied that Robinson was attached to his party, excusing himself
to himself on the ground that Robinson was a volunteer, and could not
properly be said to be one of his command. The Governor’s reception was
haughty and unfriendly. Pike bore himself with great dignity and wasted
no words. At a later interview that day his papers were examined by
the Governor, and after they had been read his manner changed, and he
became much more cordial. Pike’s trunk was locked and the key given to
him, the trunk to be put in charge of an officer, who was instructed
to escort him to Chihuahua, where he was to appear before the
Commandant-General. That night he dined with the Governor, and received
from him money for the expenses of himself and men as far as Chihuahua.

The story of the march from Santa Fé to Chihuahua is interesting. Not
far from Albuquerque they met Dr. Robinson. He was hardly recognized by
Pike, for he was fat, sleek, and well looking, as different as possible
from that Robinson who had left the camp on the head waters of the Rio
del Norte, “pale, emaciated, with uncombed locks and beard of eight
months’ growth, but with fire, unsubdued enterprise, and fortitude.”

The party crossed the Rio Grande at El Paso del Norte, then a great
crossing-place for travellers north and south, and just over the river
from our present Texas town of El Paso, situated on one of the great
transcontinental railroads.

Chihuahua was reached April 2, and Pike immediately had an interview
with the Governor, who treated him with reasonable consideration.
Almost the whole month of April was passed here, and during this
time Pike was entertained by the people of the town, among whom, we
may infer, he was regarded partly in the light of a hero, and partly
in the light of a curiosity. On one occasion he was warned by the
Governor that he spoke too freely with regard to religion, government,
and other matters, to which he made a very free response, justifying
himself for whatever he had done. Pike left Chihuahua April 28. He had
become suspicious that there was danger that his private notes would
be taken from him, so he took his small note-books and concealed them
in the barrels of the guns of his men. It was now May, the weather
growing very warm and dry; and sometimes as they marched they suffered
from lack of water. Almost everywhere Pike continued to be received
with great kindness by the people, both in the towns and by the rich
haciendados, whose ranchos were passed in the country. He frequently
met men of English, Irish, and American birth, most of whom were kind
to him; and, on one occasion, conversed gladly with an American whom
he shortly afterward learned to be a deserter from the United States
Army. This made him very indignant, and he sent word to the proprietor
of the house where they were stopping that if this deserter appeared
at another meal all the Americans would decline to eat. His firmness
brought an apology from the host, who took steps that the deserter
should not again appear.

The month of June was spent in journeying through Texas, eastward,
to the borders of Louisiana. Pike speaks in the warmest terms of the
two Governors, Cordero and Herrara, whom he met at San Antonio. They,
and all the other Spaniards whom he met in Texas, were kind to him.
On the first of July the party reached Natchitoches about four P. M.
“Language cannot express the gayety of my heart when I once more beheld
the standard of my country waved aloft. ‘All hail!’ cried I, ‘the ever
sacred name of country, in which is embraced that of kindred, friends,
and every other tie which is dear to the soul of man!’”

It was in August, 1806, while he was on his way westward, on this
second expedition, that Pike was promoted to be a captain, and his
promotion to a majority followed soon after his return. With successive
promotions in 1809, he became lieutenant-colonel, and with the coming
of the war of 1812, Pike, now a colonel, was sent to guard the northern
frontier. He was appointed to be brigadier general March 12, 1813.
There was some fighting, but not much; but on April 27, 1813, while
leading an attack on Fort York--now Toronto--he was killed by the
explosion of the magazine, which the retreating enemy had fired. As an
eye-witness said: The Governor’s house, with some smaller buildings,
formed a square at the centre battery, and under it the grand magazine,
containing a large quantity of powder, was situated. As there were
only two or three guns at this battery, and it but a short distance
from the garrison, the troops did not remain in it, but retreated
to the latter. When the Americans, commanded by one of their best
generals, Pike, reached this small battery, instead of pressing
forward, they halted, and the general sat down on one of the guns; a
fatal proceeding, for, in a few minutes, his advance guard, consisting
of about three hundred men and himself, were blown into the air by the
explosion of the grand magazine.

“... I heard the report, and felt a tremendous motion in the earth,
resembling the shock of an earthquake; and, looking toward the spot, I
saw an immense cloud ascend into the air. I was not aware at the moment
what it had been occasioned by, but it had an awfully grand effect;
at first it was a great confused mass of smoke, timber, men, earth,
etc., but as it arose, in a most majestic manner, it assumed the shape
of a vast balloon. When the whole mass had ascended to a considerable
height, and the force by which the timber, etc., were impelled upwards
became spent, the latter fell from the cloud and spread over the
surrounding plain.”

Struck by a fragment of rock, Pike was mortally wounded. As he was
being taken on board the flagship “Madison,” he heard the cheering on
the shore. He asked what it meant, and was told that the Stars and
Stripes were being hoisted over the captured fort. A little later the
captured British flag was brought to him; he motioned to have it put
under his head, and soon after this had been done he died.

It is a melancholy commentary on the shortness of human fame that
to-day the number of Americans who know who Pike was is very small.
Few men have done more than he for their country. Few men in their
time have attracted more attention. Pike’s name has been given to
mountains, counties, cities, villages, and even to islands, rivers, and
bays; and while, as Dr. Coues suggests, it may well enough be that not
all these are named after Pike the explorer, yet we may be sure that
the enthusiasm of the people for Pike at the time of his death, and
for some time afterward, led to the giving his name to many natural
features of the land, and to many political divisions within the
States. After all, Pike’s most impressive and most enduring monument
must always remain the superb mountain which bears his name. If Pike
did not discover this, “the grim sentinel of the Rockies,” which towers
fourteen thousand one hundred and forty-seven feet above the sea, at
least he was one of the first Americans to see it. He calls it, fitly,
the Grand Peak. Nearly fourteen years later, during Major Long’s
expedition to the Rocky Mountains, it was named James Peak; but this
name, though often mentioned in books, did not long endure, and the
name Pike’s Peak, first used some time during the decade between 1830
and 1840--for example in Latrobe’s “Rambler in America”--is now firmly
established, and will ever remain the mountain’s designation.

The death of Pike at the early age of thirty-four, so soon after he
had attained the summit of his ambition, the rank of general and at
the moment when the force under his command had won a notable victory,
seems very pathetic; and yet, after all, may not this have been a
happy fate? For we cannot tell what sorrows and disappointments a
longer life might have brought to him. It seems almost as though he may
have had a premonition of the fate in store for him, since, in his last
letter to his father, written just before he set out on his expedition,
he writes as follows:

“I embark to-morrow in the fleet at Sackett’s Harbor, at the head
of a column of one thousand five hundred choice troops, on a secret
expedition. If success attends my steps, honor and glory await my name;
if defeat, still shall it be said we died like brave men, and conferred
honor, even in death, on the American name.

“Should I be the happy mortal destined to turn the scale of war, will
you not rejoice, O my father? May heaven be propitious, and smile on
the cause of my country. But if we are destined to fall, may my fall be
like Wolfe’s--to sleep in the arms of victory.”

It was so that Pike fell asleep.




CHAPTER XVI

ALEXANDER HENRY (THE YOUNGER)

I


Among the north men who overran the country long known as the Hudson’s
Bay Territory, Alexander Henry, the younger, was a commanding figure.
He was a nephew of that other Alexander Henry whose adventures have
been described earlier in this book. To Alexander Henry, the younger,
we owe the most curious and complete record ever printed of the daily
life of the fur trader in the north.

Alexander Henry, the younger, was a diarist; he kept a journal in which
he set down, in the most matter-of-fact way, everything that happened
to him, and, as has been said by Dr. Coues, “it mirrors life in a way
Mr. Samuel Pepys might envy could he compare his inimitable diary with
this curious companion piece of _causerie_, and perceive that he who
goes over the sea may change his sky, but not his mind.”

The wonderful journal of Henry’s slept for nearly a century. Where the
original may be we do not know, but a copy was made by George Coventry
about the year 1824, and this copy about seventy years later came
under the notice of Dr. Elliott Coues, whose studies of the old West,
have furnished so great a mass of material from which the student of
history may glean information.

The diary covers a period of about fifteen years, from 1799 to 1814,
during which time Henry travelled from Lake Superior to the Pacific.
He lived in and travelled through, at various times, the Canadian
Provinces of Ontario, Manitoba, Assiniboia, Keewatin, Saskatchewan,
Alberta, and British Columbia; while in the United States his travels
were through Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Idaho, Oregon, and
Washington. In these long journeys he met many different tribes of
Indians, and saw much of the Chippewas, the three tribes of the
Blackfeet, the Crees, Assiniboines, Sioux, Sarcees, and other northern
tribes, while in his southern journeyings he reached the Mandans, the
Minitari, the Rees, and even the Cheyennes, south of the Missouri
River, and on the west coast saw many tribes of the Columbia.

The journal begins in the autumn of 1799, when he was camped on the
White Earth River, near the foot of what is now known as Riding
Mountain, in Manitoba, a little west of Portage La Prairie. Here he had
stopped after his journey from Montreal, to trade with the Indians the
liquor, blankets, strouding, and various trinkets the Indians liked.
He made that fall a clear profit of seven hundred pounds. This was his
first trial in the Northwest.

In the summer of 1800 Henry was on his way westward, with a brigade
of canoes, each of which carried twenty-eight pieces of goods, ten
of which were kegs of rum of nine gallons each; loads which sunk the
canoes to the gunwales. He was proceeding by the Grande Portage to Lake
Winnipeg, over the road which, even then, was being travelled by many
fur traders. Wherever he found Indians, they were usually drunk, and
when drunk always troublesome. They crossed the Lake of the Woods, and
ran down the river Winnipic. At Portage de Lisle one of the canoes, to
avoid the trouble of making this portage, passed down near the north
shore with a full load. “She had not gone many yards when, by some
mismanagement of the foreman, the current bore down her bow full upon
the shore against a rock, upon which the fellow, taking advantage of
his situation, jumped, while the current whirled the canoe around. The
steersman, finding himself within reach of the shore, jumped upon the
rock, with one of the midmen; the other midman, not being sufficiently
active, remained in the canoe, which was instantly carried out and
lost to view among the high waves. At length she appeared, and stood
perpendicularly for a moment, when she sank down again, and I then
perceived the man rising upon a bale of drygoods in the midst of the
waves. We made every exertion to get near him, and did not cease
calling out to him to take courage, and not let go his hold; but alas!
he sank under a heavy swell, and when the bale arose the man appeared
no more. At this time we were only a few yards from him; but while we
were eagerly looking out for him, poor fellow, the whirlpool caught my
canoe, and before we could get away she was half-full of water. We then
made all haste to get ashore, and go in search of the property. The
canoe we found flat upon the water, broken in many places. However, we
hauled her ashore, and afterwards collected as many pieces as we could
find. The men had landed a few packages above the rapid, otherwise our
loss would have been still greater.”

On August 16 they entered Lake Winnipeg, and were almost wrecked by
a storm, the wind blowing violently over a shoal flat, and raising
a tumbling sea. Wild-fowl were plenty; so were also Rocky Mountain
locusts, which Henry said were thrown up on the beach to a depth of
six to nine inches. He shot a white pelican, of which many were seen.
From here Henry went up the Red River to establish a trading-fort, and
on the way up he divided his goods, one-half of which were to be sent
to Portage La Prairie on the Assiniboine River. The Indians here were
chiefly canoe and foot people, and had few horses. Pigeons were very
numerous, as were also fish, and the Indians had some dried buffalo
meat, which was purchased from them. Fruit was abundant along the bank;
plums of three different sorts, pembinas, and grapes.

A number of Indians had joined him, all of whom wanted liquor and
supplies. He gave them more or less liquor, with the result that most
of them were drunk much of the time, and showed no disposition either
to hunt or to trap. As they proceeded up Red River, they approached
the country ranged over by the Sioux, between whom and the Ojibwas
there was everlasting war. The Indians were therefore in a continual
state of alarm, and every time a shot was heard they thought that the
enemy were about to attack them. They were now close to the country of
the buffalo, and the Indians were bringing in fresh meat. Henry speaks
of the abundance of these animals at his camp of August 26, where, he
says, “The ravages of the buffaloes at this place are astonishing to a
person unaccustomed to these meadows. The beach, once soft black mud,
into which a man would sink knee-deep, is now made hard as pavement by
the numerous herds coming to drink. The willows are entirely trampled
and torn to pieces; even the bark of the smaller trees is rubbed off in
many places. The grass on the first bank of the river is entirely worn
away. Numerous paths, some of which are a foot deep in the hard turf,
come from the plains to the brink of the river, and vast quantities of
dung gives this place the appearance of a cattle yard. We have reached
the commencement of the great plains of Red River, where the eye is
lost in one continuous level westward. Not a tree or a rising ground
interrupts the view.” Here he had his first experience in running
buffalo, and merely for the amusement of it killed not a few.

The Indians continued drinking and fighting among themselves. No one
as yet had been killed, but more than one had been severely injured.
Now, however, they had used up all their liquor, and Henry refused to
give them any more; so that while many continued to loaf about and beg
for drink, some went hunting. Keeping on up the Red River, he pushed
on southward, being anxious to reach a country where the beaver seemed
to be plenty. Game was very abundant--buffalo, elk and bears. “Whilst
we were arranging camp I saw a bear on the east side of the river, a
little above us, coming down to drink. I crossed over and followed him;
he instantly stopped within a few paces, and ran up a large oak. I shot
him between the shoulders, and he fell to the ground like a rock, but
in a moment was scampering away as fast as he could. I traced him by
the blood, and soon found him sitting under a brush heap, grumbling and
licking his wounds. A second shot dispatched him. By the hideous scream
he uttered when he fell from the tree, I imagined he was coming at me,
and was waiting for him with my second barrel cocked, when he ran off.
I went for my two men, and it was hard work for us three to drag him to
the canoe; he was very fat. I found that my first ball had gone through
his heart. I was surprised that he should have been so active after a
wound of that kind.”

Early in September, Henry, having passed up Red River as far as the
mouth of Park River, decided to build there, and began the work of
cutting house logs and erecting his stockades. Game was astonishingly
abundant, bears being so plenty that they were killed almost daily.
Three men came in with twelve bears; a hunter returned with four bears,
and so on. Now that they were settled, Henry began to give out to the
Indians their debts; by which is meant that he furnished them the
articles that they needed for hunting and for their life during the
winter, charging them with the articles, which were to be paid for by
skins--that is, the value of a beaver skin. He prepared a seat in a
tall oak, which he used as a lookout station, and from which he had
an extensive view. Every morning he used to climb to the top of this
oak and look over the country, not only to see where the game was, but
also to see if people were moving about. After the stockade had been
finished, the houses were built, and then came the task of preparing
food for the winter. Meantime, the Indians had persuaded Henry again
to give them liquor, and they were once more drunk and quarrelling.
Happily, when fighting, they did not use their guns or bows, but only
their knives; and so, although men and women were frequently severely
stabbed and cut, there were no immediate fatalities.

Henry was a good deal of a hunter, and much of his journal is given
up to accounts of what he killed. Indian alarms were as frequent as
ever, but none of them amounted to anything, being causeless panics.
In October Henry made a journey down the river, to look up some of
the people that he had sent off to establish small trading-posts. On
his return, about the middle of October, he found that his hunter
had killed a large grizzly bear, about a mile from the fort, and
mentions that these bears are not numerous along Red River, but are
more abundant in the Hair Hills. This is one of the most eastern
records for the grizzly bear, although Long--_Voyages and Travels_,
London, 1791--speaks as if they were sometimes found a little further
eastward, even east of the west end of Lake Superior.

A little later Henry, with one of his hunters and another man, set off
in search of the Red Lake Indians, whom he wished to inform that he
had established a trading-post here. The journey was long, and much of
it through thick woods and underbrush, and it almost proved fruitless.
However, he at length came across a young Indian, who was very much
frightened at seeing them, but finally realizing that they were
friends, talked freely to them. The Indian reported that his people
were at Red Lake waiting for traders, and Henry tried to persuade him
to bring them into his fort. Henry then returned to his post.

Winter was now approaching. The Indians were making the mats with which
they covered their huts in winter, while many of the men were preparing
to go to war. An interesting note on wolves appears here, under date
of Sunday, November 2: “Last night the wolves were very troublesome;
they kept up a terrible howling about the fort, and even attempted to
enter Maymiutch’s hut. A large white one came boldly into the door,
and was advancing toward a young child, when he was shot dead. Some of
them are very audacious. I have known them to follow people for several
days, attempt to seize a person or a dog, and to be kept off only by
firearms. It does not appear that hunger makes them so voracious, as
they have been known to pass carcasses of animals which they might have
eaten to their fill, but they would not touch flesh, their object
seeming to be that of biting. The Canadians swear that these are mad
wolves, and are much afraid of them.”

Another note of interest to the zoologist is this: “We saw a great
herd of cows going at full speed southward, but on coming to our
track, which goes to Salt Lake, they began to smell the ground, and
as suddenly as if they had been fired at, turned toward the mountain.
It is surprising how sagacious these animals are. When in the least
alarmed, they will smell the track of even a single person in the
grass, and run away in the contrary direction. I have seen large herds
walking very slowly to pasture, and feeding as they went, come to a
place where some persons had passed on foot, when they would instantly
stop, smell the ground, draw back a few paces, bellow, and tear up the
earth with their horns. Sometimes the whole herd would range along the
road, keeping up a terrible noise, until one of them was hardy enough
to jump over, when they would all follow, and run some distance.” On
November 8, with an Indian, Henry started in search of Indians about
Grand Forks. Although the weather had been cold and snowy, it had now
turned warm again, and they had much trouble in crossing streams and
sloughs. They went south, to what Henry’s Indian told him was the
border of the Sioux country, and old camping-grounds were pointed out,
which the Indian said were Sioux. Beaver appeared to be very numerous,
but they killed nothing, making no fire, and firing no guns, and
keeping their horses always close to them.

In describing the country passed over, Henry speaks of the Schian
River, a tributary of the Red River, which flows into it about ten
miles north of Fargo. This, he says, “takes its name from a formerly
numerous tribe of Indians who inhabited its upper part. They were a
neutral tribe between the Sioux and Saulteurs for many years, but
the latter, who are of a jealous disposition, suspected that they
favored the Sioux. A very large party having once been unsuccessful in
discovering their enemies, on their return wreaked their vengeance on
those people, destroying their village, and murdering most of them.
This happened about sixty years ago, when the Saulteurs were at war
with their natural enemies, the Sioux, of the plains, who are the only
inhabitants of St. Peter’s River. The Schians, having been nearly
exterminated, abandoned their old territory, and fled southward across
the Missouri, where they are now a wandering tribe.”

This story agrees very well with the traditions related by the
Cheyennes to-day, except that the modern stories put back these wars
with the Saulteurs much further than 1740. On November 13 Henry
reached the post again, having failed to find any of the people that
he looked for. Moreover, when he got here he received a messenger from
Langlois, one of his clerks at a trading-post at the Panbian (Pembina)
Mountains, reporting that a number of more or less turbulent Crees and
Assiniboines were gathering there, and that Henry’s presence was needed
to quiet them. Two days later he set off, stopping at Bois Percé, where
“I remained about an hour with the worthless vagabonds, who do nothing
but play at the game of platter. Nothing is heard but the noise of the
dish, and children bawling from hunger; their scoundrelly fathers are
deaf to their cries until necessity obliges them to kill a bull for
their sustenance.” On his arrival at the post, he found all his people
well, and the trouble apparently over.

The weather was now very cold. Swans were passing south in astonishing
numbers. Now the men took no more raccoons with their traps, for these
animals had begun to hibernate in the hollow trees, where they would
remain like the bears until spring, without any sustenance.

Some time before, an Indian named Crooked Legs, while drunk, had very
severely stabbed his young wife, who now, however, had perfectly
recovered. At a drinking-match, held at the post, just after Henry’s
return, this woman, in revenge, gave her old husband a cruel beating
with a stick, and afterward burned him shockingly with a brand snatched
from the fire.

Rum was constantly desired by the Indians, and was begged for on every
pretext. If a woman’s husband died, or a man’s wife, they came to Henry
to beg, or buy, rum to cheer their hearts in their sorrow. A curious
trapping incident is reported November 28. “La Rocque, Sr., came in
with his traps, with a skunk, a badger, and a large white wolf, all
three caught in the same trap at once, as he said. This was thought
extraordinary--indeed a falsehood--until he explained the affair. His
trap was made in a hollow stump, in the center of which there was a
deep hole in the ground. He found the wolf, just caught, and still
alive. He despatched him, and, on taking him out, noticed something
stirring and making a noise in the hole in the ground. Upon looking in
he perceived the badger, which he killed with a stick, and upon pulling
him out, smelt the horrid stench of the skunk, which was in one corner
of the hole. He soon despatched him also. From this the Indians all
predicted some great misfortune, either to the person to whom the traps
belonged, or to our fort.”

Two days later some of the men went raccoon hunting, the weather being
warm. “They returned in the evening with seven, which they had found in
one hollow tree. The size of this tree was enormous, having a hollow
six feet in diameter, the rim or shell being two feet thick, including
the bark. Raccoon hunting is common here in the winter season. The
hunter examines every hollow tree met with, and when he sees the fresh
marks of the claws, he makes a hole with an ax, and then opens the
hollow place, in which he lights a fire, to find out if there be any
raccoons within, as they often climb trees in the autumn, and, not
finding them proper for the purpose, leave them, and seek others. But
if they be within, the smoke obliges them to ascend and put their heads
out of the hole they enter. On observing this, the ax is applied to
the tree; with the assistance of the fire it is soon down, and the
hunter stands ready to despatch the animals while they are stunned by
the fall. But sometimes they are so obstinate as to remain at the
bottom of the hole until they are suffocated or roasted to death. The
bears, both grizzly and common black, which reside on Red River, take
to hollow trees also, and are hunted by the Indians in the same manner
as raccoons. But the bears in the Hair Hills and other places never
take to the trees for their winter quarters; they reside in holes in
the ground, in the most intricate thicket they can find, generally
under the roots of trees that have been torn up by the wind, or have
otherwise fallen. These are more difficult to find, requiring good
dogs that are naturally given to hunt bears. The reason why the bears
differ so widely in the choice of their winter habitations is obvious.
The low lands along the river, where the woods principally grow, are
every spring subject to overflow, when the ice breaks up. The mud
carried down with the current and left on the banks, makes their dens
uncomfortable. On the Hair Hills and other high lands, where the ground
is free from inundation, the soft and sandy soil is not so cold as the
stiff black mud on the banks of the river, which appears to be made
ground. Frequently, on digging holes in winter, we found the frost had
penetrated the ground nearly four feet, like one solid body of ice,
while in high, dry, sandy soil it seldom exceeds one foot in depth.”

Winter had now set in, as well by the calendar as by temperature. It
was ushered in by a great prairie fire, which seemed likely to burn
over the whole country. At first it was supposed that the Sioux had
fired the prairie, but later it appeared that the Crees had done it by
accident. These Crees reported that they had seen a calf as white as
snow in a herd of buffalo; and Henry mentions how greatly white buffalo
are esteemed among the nations of the Missouri, but that they are not
valued by the Crees and Assiniboines, except to trade to other tribes.
Occasionally buffalo are seen that are dirty gray, but these are very
rare. Christmas and New Year passed, these holidays being celebrated
by drinking, so that for New Year’s Day Henry says: “By sunrise every
soul of them was raving drunk--even the children.” Buffalo were now
seen in great abundance, and came within gun-shot of the fort. A day
or two later it was necessary to go out only a short distance from
the fort to kill buffalo, but the cold was so intense that it was
impossible to cut up those killed. On January 2 there arrived at the
fort, Berdash, a man who, as used to be not very uncommon, wore the
dress and busied himself with the occupations properly belonging to
women. He was a swift runner, and was considered the fleetest man
among the Saulteurs. “Both his speed and his courage were tested some
years ago on the Schian River, where Monsieur Reaume attempted to
make peace between the two nations, and Berdash accompanied a party
of Saulteurs to the Sioux camp. They at first appeared reconciled to
each other, at the intercession of the whites, but on the return of
the Saulteurs, the Sioux pursued them. Both parties were on foot, and
the Sioux had the name of being extraordinarily swift. The Saulteurs
imprudently dispersed in the plains, and several of them were killed,
but the party with Berdash escaped without any accident, in the
following manner: One of them had got from the Sioux a bow, but only
a few arrows. On starting and finding themselves pursued, they ran a
considerable distance, until they perceived the Sioux were gaining fast
upon them, when Berdash took the bow and arrows from his comrades,
and told them to run as fast as possible, without minding him, as he
feared no danger. He then faced the enemy, and began to let fly his
arrows. This checked their course, and they returned the compliment
with interest, but it was so far off that only a chance arrow could
have hurt him, as they had nearly spent their strength when they fell
near him. His own arrows were soon expended, but he lost no time in
gathering up those that fell near him, and thus he had a continual
supply. Seeing his friends some distance off, and the Sioux moving to
surround him, he turned and ran full speed to join his comrades, the
Sioux after him. When the latter approached too near, Berdash again
stopped and faced them, with his bow and arrows, and kept them at bay.
Thus did he continue to maneuver until they reached a spot of strong
wood, which the Sioux dared not enter. Some of the Saulteurs who were
present have often recounted the affair to me. It seemed the Sioux
from the first were inclined to treachery, being very numerous and
the others but few. The Saulteurs were well provided with guns and
ammunition, but on the first meeting were surrounded, and the guns
taken away from them, in return for which the Sioux gave them bows and
arrows; but in a manner to be of little use, giving one a bow and no
arrows, another a quiver of arrows, but no bow.”

On January 14 he was awakened by the bellowing of buffalo, and found
the plains black, and apparently in motion. An enormous herd of buffalo
surrounded the fort, and were moving northward, extending south as
far as the eye could see. “I had seen almost incredible numbers of
buffalo in the fall, but nothing in comparison to what I now beheld.
The ground was covered at every point of the compass as far as the eye
could reach, and every animal was in motion. All hands soon attacked
them with a tremendous running fire, which put them to a quicker pace,
but had no effect in altering their course. The first roads beaten in
the snow were followed by those in the rear. They passed in full speed,
until about nine o’clock, when their numbers decreased, and they kept
further off in the plains. There was about fifteen inches of snow on
a level, in some places drifted in great banks. Notwithstanding the
buffalo were so numerous, and twelve guns were employed, we killed only
three cows and one old bull, but must have wounded a great number.” The
next day the plains were still covered with buffalo, moving northward;
and this continued for a day or two. The stock of winter provisions was
now all laid in--an abundance of good, fat buffalo meat. In February
the buffalo began to get poor, as they always do at that time, and
toward the end of the month some of the men caught a cow on the ice of
the river, the dogs having surrounded her, and the men entangling her
legs in a line, so that she fell on her side; they then dragged her,
still alive, to the fort, when she jumped to her feet and ran to attack
the dogs. Two men mounted on her back, but she was as active with this
load as before, jumping and kicking at the dogs in most agile fashion.

On February 28 an Indian brought in a spring calf, which he had found
dead, an unusually early birth. The Indians declared that this meant an
early spring.

The first outarde--Canada goose--was seen March 12, and on the same day
a swan. On this day, too, it was noted that the sap of the box-elder
began to run; this yields a fine white sugar, but not so sweet as
that from the real sugar maple (_Acer_), He notes that bittersweet is
abundant along the Red River, and that the Indians eat it in time of
famine.

Now the river, on account of melting snow, began to rise, and to lift
up the ice. Henry began to get out his canoes and mend them up for the
summer use. Wildfowl made their appearance in great numbers, and on the
23rd young calves were seen by the men. And now, the ice of the river
coming down, carried with it great numbers of dead buffalo from above,
which had been drowned in crossing the river while the ice was weak.
Their numbers were astonishing. Often they were drifted to the shore,
where the women cut up some of the fattest for their own use, the
flesh seeming to be fresh and good. On the 7th of April one of his men
brought in to Henry three wolves born this spring; another had brought
in six, which he had found in one hole, and which were now very tame.
It was proposed to keep them for sledge dogs in winter.

A little later the odor of the decaying buffalo lying there along the
river was terrible. In fact, on his journey down the river with his
goods, which were now to be despatched to Montreal, the stench of the
drowned buffalo was such that Henry could not eat his supper.

At last he despatched his goods, and about the first of June left for
the Grand Portage. The proceeds of the winter’s trade amounted to
nearly two thousand pounds, Halifax currency.

[Illustration: TWO MEN MOUNTED ON HER BACK, BUT SHE WAS AS ACTIVE WITH
THIS LOAD AS BEFORE.]




CHAPTER XVII

ALEXANDER HENRY (THE YOUNGER)

II


In August, 1801, Henry was on his way to a new post on the Pembina,
the one which Langlois had established the year before. He intended
to establish also a post at Grandes Fourches, the site of the present
town of Grand Forks, North Dakota. This business, and his travels
to other subsidiary trading-posts that he built at various points,
occupied the autumn. Game was abundant, and so were fish. The Hudson’s
Bay Company, the opposition, were not far off, and there was some
intercourse between the men of the two companies. On March 14, during
a drinking-match, occured one of the fights among the Indians which
were so common in those days of abundant liquor. “Gros Bras, in a fit
of jealousy, stabbed Auposoi to death with a hand-dague; the first
stroke opened his left side, the second his belly, and the third his
breast. He never stirred, although he had a knife in his belt, and died
instantly. Soon after this, Auposoi’s brother a boy about ten years of
age, took the deceased’s gun loaded it with two balls, and approached
Gros Bras’ tent. Putting the muzzle of the gun through the door, the
boy fired the two balls into his breast, and killed him dead, just as
he was reproaching his wife for her affection for Auposoi, and boasting
of the vengeance he had taken. The little fellow ran into the woods and
hid. Little Shell found the old woman, Auposoi’s mother, in her tent;
he instantly stabbed her. Ondainoiache then came in, took the knife,
and gave her a second stab. Little Shell, in his turn, taking the
knife, gave a third blow. In this manner did these two rascals continue
to murder the old woman as long as there was any life in her. The boy
escaped into Langlois’ house, and was kept hid until they were all
sober.”

March 15, a swan, a turkey-buzzard, and a hawk, the first spring birds,
were seen; and by the middle of April wild-fowl were plenty, and calves
were becoming numerous. Passenger pigeons were passing north, and
toward the end of the month some Indians came in with thirty-six whole
beaver in a skin canoe. In May came the news of a Sioux attack on the
Saulteurs, in which seven of the latter were killed. Henry planted his
garden, and soon after made ready for his departure to join the brigade.

The next September he was back again at Panbian River, trading with
the Indians, and, of course, handing out rum to them. His entry for
February 15 contains a small temperance lecture which represented
what he sometimes preached, but never practised. As he says: “The
Indians totally neglected their ancient customs; and to what can this
degeneration be ascribed but to their intercourse with us, particularly
as they are so unfortunate as to have a continual succession of
opposition parties to teach them roguery, and to destroy both mind and
body with that pernicious article rum? What a different set of people
they would be were there not a drop of liquor in the country. If a
murder is committed among the Saulteurs, it is due to a drinking match.
You may truly say that liquor is the root of all evil in the West.”

Spring came on with the usual signs. The women were making sugar at
the last of March (1803), and it was noted that spring that very few
buffalo drifted down the river. The plains of the Red River were
covered with water from the sudden melting of the snow, and the men
suffered much, for they were continually on the march, looking up
Indians along every stream. The water was commonly knee-deep, and
in some places much deeper, and was usually covered with ice in the
morning, making the walking tiresome, and often dangerous. Some of the
best men, Henry says, lose the use of their legs while still in the
prime of life. The Indians were now bringing in the proceeds of their
spring hunt, and exchanging it for rum. When the time came around,
Henry interrupted his hunting and his trading to plant his garden,
sowing potatoes, cabbage, and many root crops. With the end of May
came the mosquitoes, a terrible pest. Among the articles traded for
was maple sugar, an important article of food in that country. As
usual, about midsummer, Henry started down the river with his furs, and
reached Fort William July 3.

On the 29th of the same month he started on his return journey, with
a brigade of eight canoes; and about two months later, September 20,
found himself at the present Winnipeg, and soon afterward at the old
post on the Panbian River.

Horses had now begun to be used in the trade at this point, and Henry
grumbles about them in a long entry, which is worth reproducing: “It
is true they are useful animals, but if there were not one in all
the Northwest we should have less trouble and expense. Our men would
neither be so burdened with families, nor so indolent and insolent
as they are, and the natives in general would be more honest and
industrious. Let an impartial eye look into the affair, to discover
whence originates the unbounded extravagance of our meadow gentry, both
white and native, and horses will be found one of the principal causes.
Let us view the bustle and noise which attended the transportation of
five pieces of goods to a place where the houses were built in 1801-02.
The men were up at break of day, and their horses tackled long before
sunrise; but they were not ready to move before ten o’clock, when I had
the curiosity to climb on top of my house to watch their motions, and
observe their order of march.

“Antoine Payet, guide and second in command, leads the van with a cart
drawn by two horses, and loaded with private baggage, cassetetes,
bags, kettles, and mashqueminctes. Madame Payet follows the cart, with
a child a year old on her back, very merry. Charles Bottineau, with
two horses and a cart, loaded with 1½ packs, his own baggage, and
two young children, with kettles and other trash hanging on to it.
Madame Bottineau, with a squalling infant on her back, scolding and
tossing it about. Joseph Dubord goes on foot, with his long pipestem
and calumet in his hand. Madame Dubord follows on foot, carrying his
tobacco pouch with a broad bead tail. Antoine Thellier, with a cart
and two horses, loaded with 1½ packs of goods, and Dubois’ baggage.
Antoine La Pointe, with another cart and horses, loaded with two pieces
of goods, and with baggage belonging to Brisebois, Jasmin, and Pouliot,
and a kettle hung on each side. Auguste Brisebois follows, with only
his gun on his shoulder and a fresh-lighted pipe in his mouth. Michel
Jasmin goes next, like Brisebois, with gun and pipe, puffing out clouds
of smoke. Nicolas Pouliot, the greatest smoker in the Northwest, has
nothing but pipe and pouch; those three fellows have taken a farewell
dram, and lighted fresh pipes, go on brisk and merry, playing numerous
pranks. Dormin Livernois, with a young mare, the property of Mr.
Langlois, loaded with weeds for smoking, an old worsted bag (madame’s
property), some squashes and potatoes, a small keg of fresh water, and
two young whelps, howling. Next goes Livernois’ young horse, drawing
a travaille, loaded with baggage and a large worsted mashguemcate,
belonging to Madame Langlois. Next appears Madame Cameron’s mare,
kicking, rearing, and snorting, hauling a travaille loaded with a bag
of flour, cabbage, turnips, onions, a small keg of water, and a large
kettle of broth. Michel Langlois, who is master of the band, now comes
on leading a horse that draws a travaille nicely covered with a new
painted tent, under which his daughter and Mrs. Cameron lie at full
length, very sick; this covering or canopy has a pretty effect in the
caravan, and appears at a great distance in the plains. Madame Langlois
brings up the rear of the human beings, following the travaille with a
slow step and melancholy air, attending to the wants of her daughter,
who, nothwithstanding her sickness, can find no other expressions of
gratitude to her parents than by calling them dogs, fools, beasts,
etc. The rear-guard consists of a long train of twenty dogs, some for
sleighs, some for game, and others for no use whatever, except to snarl
and destroy meat. The total forms a procession nearly a mile long, and
appears like a large band of Assiniboines.”

Early in November Henry went over to the Hair Hills. In March, on a
journey from the Hair Hills to his home, he says that he travelled
in the night always, preferring to do so at this season of the year,
partly to avoid snow blindness, and partly because the cold of the
night makes travel easier than during the day, when the snow is melted
and soft, and dogs and sledges sink deep into it. In April, when he was
chasing buffalo, he came near leaving his bones in the plains, a prey
for the wolves. “This was occasioned by my horse stumbling while at
full speed. I was just drawing my gun from the belt to fire, holding
it by the barrel, near the muzzle, when the sudden shock caused the
priming to fire the gun; the ball passed near my hip and struck in the
ground, and the gun flew some distance. I was in the midst of the herd;
a fine large calf passing near me, I dismounted, caught him by the
tail, and held him fast; he began to bleat, when instantly the mother
turned and rushed at me; I was glad to let go and run to my horse. As I
reflected on my narrow escape, it brought to my mind a similar affair
which happened to me some years ago at Michipicoten, when shooting
wildfowl in the spring, in a small canoe. In attempting to remove my
gun from my left to my right side, passing the muzzle behind my back,
the cock got fast in one of the bars, and, on my pulling the gun
forward from behind me, she went off; the load grazed my right side,
taking a piece of my belt and capot away.”

In April he bought a beautiful white buffalo skin; the hair was long,
soft and perfectly white, resembling a sheep’s fleece. Early in May
extraordinary numbers of wild pigeons were seen, and the Indian women
were preparing the ground for their farming. With the summer came
the usual packing of the furs, and the journey to Kamanistiquia. The
return journey was a short one, and Henry reached the Panbian River
early in September. In October he writes, as showing the excellence of
his horse, that one day he ran an elk five miles before killing it;
then chased a hare, which he killed after a long pursuit; and finally,
toward evening, he ran a herd of buffalo, and killed a fat cow for
supper. Besides these long races, he had covered about thirty-six miles
of travel.

This winter, because he refused to give credit to an Indian for a
blanket, Henry was twice shot at, but missed. On his return to his post
that summer, he learned of an attack on a small camp of his Indians
by Sioux a month earlier. This is the story as Henry gives it, and
it may be retold because it illustrates Indian modes: “My beau-père
(father-in-law) was the first man that fell, about eight o’clock in
the morning. He had climbed a tree to see if the buffalo were at
hand, as they were tented there to make dried provisions. He had no
sooner reached the top than two Sioux discoverers [scouts] fired at
the same moment, and both balls passed through his body. He had only
time to call out to his family, who were in the tent, about a hundred
paces from him, ‘Save yourselves, the Sioux are killing us!’ and fell
dead to the ground, his body breaking several branches of the tree
as it dropped. The noise brought the Indians out of the tent, when,
perceiving their danger, the women and children instantly ran through
the plains toward an island of wood on Tongue River, about a mile
distant, and on a direct line toward the fort. The men took their arms
and made off also, keeping in the rear of their women and children,
whom they urged on. The four surviving men had not gone more than a
quarter of a mile when they saw the main body of the war party, on
horseback, rushing down upon them. Crossing Tongue River, and in a
few moments coming up with them, the Sioux began to fire. The four
men, by expert maneuvers and incessant fire, prevented the enemy from
closing in on them, while the women and children continued to fly, and
the men followed. They were within about two hundred paces of the
wood, and some of the most active had actually entered it, when the
enemy surrounded and fell upon them. Three of the Saulteurs fled in
different directions; Grand Gueule escaped before they were completely
surrounded, but the other two were killed. One who remained to protect
the women and children was a brave fellow--Aceguemanche, or Little
Chief; he waited deliberately until the enemy came very near, when he
fired at one who appeared to be a chief, and knocked the Sioux from his
horse. Three young girls and a boy were taken prisoners; the remainder
were all murdered and mutilated in a horrible manner. Several women
and children had escaped in the woods, where the enemy chased them on
horseback, but the willows and brush were so intricate that every one
of these escaped. A boy about twelve years old, when the Sioux pursued,
crawled into a hollow under a bunch of willows, which a horseman leaped
over without perceiving him. One of the little girls who escaped tells
a pitiful story of her mother, who was killed. This woman, having two
young children that could not walk fast enough, had taken one of them
on her back and prevailed upon her sister-in-law to carry the other;
but when they got near the woods, and the enemy rushed upon them with
hideous yells and war-whoops, the young woman was so frightened that
she threw down the child and soon overtook the mother, who, observing
that the child was missing, and hearing its screams, kissed her little
daughter--the one who relates the story--saying, with tears streaming
from her eyes: ‘Take courage, my daughter; try to reach the woods, and
if you do, go to your eldest sister, who will be kind to you; I must
turn back and recover your youngest sister, or die in the attempt. Take
courage; run fast, my daughter!’ Poor woman! She actually did recover
her child, and was running off with both children, when she was felled
to the ground by a blow on the head with a war-club. She recovered
instantly, drew her knife, and plunged it into the neck of her
murderer; but others coming up, she was despatched. Thus my belle-mère
ended her days.”

This same story is told by Tanner, who was then an Indian captive,
living with the Chippewas. Tanner even mentions Henry’s name, and
speaks of his father-in-law having been killed. The Saulteurs were
determined to avenge the death of their relations, and Henry furnished
them with ammunition for their war journey. Later, he visited the
battle-field and the Sioux camp, and judged from the sign that there
must have been about three hundred men in the Sioux party. In October
the remains of the Sioux killed by Little Chief were discovered by some
of the Indians; and the certainty that their enemies had met one loss
was some satisfaction to the Saulteurs.

[Illustration: FUR TRADERS OF THE NORTH.]

Although Henry had made an agreement with Mr. Miller, an agent of the
Hudson’s Bay Company, by which the rum to be given to the Indians
should be limited, the winter did not pass without deaths due to
drinking. One of these was an accident where a drunken Indian knocked
down a gun which, exploding, killed one of Henry’s men, who was
lying on a bed in the next room. The profits for the season’s work in
1805 and 1806, as given in Henry’s diary, are nearly three thousand
five hundred pounds.

Early in July, 1806, after his return from down the river, Henry made
preparations to set off on a tour to the south-west, to the country
of the Mandans, who then, as now, lived on the Missouri River. There
had been heavy rains, and the plains of the Red River were covered
with water, or else were so muddy that travel was slow and exceedingly
laborious. The horses often sank up to their knees in mud, and at
times had water up to their bellies, while the little rivulets which
they crossed they were obliged to swim, carrying on their heads such
articles as they wished to keep dry. Mosquitoes were a veritable
plague, and Henry had prepared a mask of thin dressed caribou skin,
which in some measure protected him; but those who were not provided
with some defense suffered terribly. Only when the wind blew was there
any relief. They were more than once obliged to make rafts, and when
they were naked, hauling the raft back and forth, they had no defense
against the mosquitoes. The horses suffered as much as the men.

The final start for the Mandans was from the establishment on Mouse
River, and the party consisted of seven persons, of whom one was
a Saulteur, a brother-in-law of Chaboillez, who had undertaken to
guide the party to the Mandans. It was midsummer, and they travelled
west-southwest over delightful prairies, where antelope were
exceedingly abundant. After crossing Mouse River, they found buffalo
in great plenty, and all in motion, from east to west. It was the
rutting season, and the herds were noisy and excited. On the 18th of
July, as they were crossing the high Missouri plains, they came in
sight of the buttes, called Maison du Chien, now commonly known as the
Dogden Buttes. This is one of the great landmarks of the country, and
many stirring adventures have taken place within sight of it. A little
later they could see the high red banks of the Missouri before them, a
long way off.

When they reached it, they found plenty of tracks of people there,
and an abundance of last year’s corncobs. The winter village of the
Minitaris was near. A well-defined trail led down the river, and they
were several times in danger of breaking their necks in deep pits,
which the natives had dug in the path to catch wolves and foxes in
winter. Some of these were ten feet deep, and hollowed out in places
to about thirty feet in circumference, while the entrance was no wider
than a foot-path, and about five feet in length. “These holes are
covered with dried grass, at the season when the wolves are caught,
and every morning are found to contain some of those animals. In
summer the grass grows strong and high about the mouths, entirely
concealing them until one arrives upon the very brink, and he is in
danger of tumbling in headlong.” Down the river about five miles they
came to a Mandan village. The people received them pleasantly, and
the Black Cat, the chief, took them to one of his houses, which was
kept for strangers. The people were desirous of trading, and could
not understand why the white men should have come so far out of mere
curiosity. As usual in these permanent villages of earth lodges, the
horses at night were confined in one part of the lodge while the people
slept in the other. The Mandans had large earthen pots of different
sizes, from five gallons to one quart, used solely for boiling corn
and beans. The Black Cat was told the next day by a Canadian who lived
in the neighboring Mandan village, who his visitors were, and at once
brought out the American flag, given him in the autumn of 1804 by
Captains Lewis and Clark, and hoisted it over the hut in which the
strangers were staying. When they were about to cross the river and go
to the opposite village, they packed up such goods as they had, and
the few things they had purchased, chiefly provisions, and gave them
into the care of the chief. “These people are much given to thieving,
but in the hut in which a stranger is lodged his property may be left
in perfect security; none dare touch it, as the master conceives his
honor concerned in whatever is placed under his immediate protection.
Out of doors, if they can pick your pocket or pilfer any article, it
is gone in an instant, and search would be in vain; every one would
wish to appear innocent, although they are not offended when accused of
stealing, but laugh the matter away.”

Henry and his people crossed the river in bull-boats, and were well
received at the other Mandan village. He noted the expertness of the
young men in getting the horses across, one swimming ahead with the
rope in his teeth, while others swam on each side, and in the rear,
driving each horse very rapidly. He also saw bull-boats--a new vessel
to him. They had hardly reached the village when there came in some
Pawnees from down the river on an embassy to treat for peace. They
could not speak the language either of the Mandans or the Minitaris,
but they talked freely in signs; and this sign language seems to have
been a surprise to Henry. He says: “They hold conversations for several
hours upon different subjects, during the whole of which time not a
single word is pronounced upon either side, and still they appear to
comprehend each other perfectly well. This mode of communication is
natural to them. Their gestures are made with the greatest ease, and
they never seem to be at a loss for a sign to express their meaning.”

These people collected their fuel in the spring, when the ice broke
up, and great quantities of wood drifted down. The young men were
accustomed to swim out among the drifting ice and bring in the trees,
however large, which they hauled out on the bank. Immense piles of
driftwood were seen opposite each village, and some of the trees were
very large. While collecting this driftwood, they also drew to land
great numbers of drowned buffalo, of which they were very fond.

He noticed--as have many others--that some children were gray-haired,
and that others were blond. A Minitari was seen with yellow hair,
something not unexampled in old times.

The men wore their hair twisted into a number of small tails, hanging
down the back to below the waist. In some of them it trailed on the
ground. The Cheyennes to-day tell us that a hundred years ago the men
of their tribe wore their hair in the same fashion. From the village of
the Mandans they went on up the river to those of the Soulier [Amahami,
a tribe now extinct] and Minitari villages. Here they met Mackenzie and
Caldwell, employees in the service of the Northwest Company, who had
been residing some little time in the village.

Henry was not particularly well pleased with his reception here, and
indeed the Indians paid little attention to the white men, and seemed
to despise them. The village, which formerly contained nine hundred
houses, now had only a hundred and thirty, smallpox and other diseases
having reduced them to that number. While in this village the white
men found it dangerous to stray out of the hut without a stout stick
to keep off the dogs, which were so numerous and savage as sometimes
actually to attack them. The people had many horses. Henry greatly
objected to their custom of apparently becoming dissatisfied with their
bargain after a trade had been concluded, and returning and taking back
the article they had sold, while giving up the price paid for it. For
example: “One of the natives had a turkey cock’s tail, great numbers
of which they got from the Schians, and which serve them as fans; this
was a new and fresh one of beautiful hue. I gave him five rounds of
ammunition for it, with which he appeared well satisfied, and left me,
but soon returned with the ammunition, and demanded the tail. Being
loth to part with it, I added five more rounds to the price, which he
accepted and went away. However, he soon reappeared and I added four
more; but to no purpose, for he continued to go and come until the
payment amounted to thirty rounds. Upon his next appearance I offered
forty rounds; but he would no longer listen to any offer, threw down my
ammunition, and insisted upon my returning him the tail, which I was
obliged to do.”




CHAPTER XVIII

ALEXANDER HENRY (THE YOUNGER)

III


On July 28 they started on their return to the north, in constant fears
and alarms lest the Assiniboines should steal their horses. A few days
later the horses, troubled by mosquitoes, broke their ropes, and eight
of them ran off in their hobbles. These could not be found again,
and some of the people were obliged to go forward on foot, while the
baggage was loaded on the remaining horses.

On his journey back to the Pembina River, Henry had an experience
comical to read about, but not to endure. “We took the traverse for
the mountain, but on coming to Cypress River found it had overflowed
its banks about three acres on each side, and could find no fordable
place. We were obliged to turn out of our way some miles, in going to
where we perceived a large, dry poplar tree, and a few stunted willows,
but there we had the mortification to find that the wood stood on the
opposite side of the river. There being no alternative, we unloaded our
horses and stripped. I crossed over, collected what brush I could find,
and with the poplar formed a raft, so very slight as to carry scarcely
more than fifty pounds’ weight. The mosquitoes were intolerable, and as
we were obliged to remain naked for about four hours, we suffered more
than I can describe. The grass on each side was too high to haul our
raft through to dry land; we could use it only on the river by means of
two long cords, one fastened to each end. Ducharme hauled it over to
his side, and after making it fast, he went to dry land for a load in
water up to his armpits, whilst I waited with my whole body immersed
until he brought down a load and laid it upon the raft. I then hauled
it over and carried the load to dry land upon my head. Every time I
landed the mosquitoes plagued me insufferably; and still worse, the
horse that I had crossed over upon was so tormented that he broke his
fetters and ran away. I was under the cruel necessity of pursuing him
on the plains entirely naked; fortunately I caught him and brought him
back. I suffered a good deal from the sharp-pointed grass pricking my
bare feet, and mosquito bites covered my body. The sun was set before
we finished our transportation. The water in this river is always
excessively cold, and by the time we got all over, our bodies were as
blue as indigo; we were shivering like aspen leaves, and our legs were
cut and chafed by the coarse, stiff grass. We shot an old swan, and
caught two young ones that could not fly; this made us a comfortable
supper.”

Henry reached the fort August 14.

“One of our hunters killed thirty-six prime bears in the course of the
season on the Hair Hills. Whatever number of bears an Indian may kill
in the summer or fall is considered of no consequence, as they are
valueless and easy to hunt, but after they have taken up their winter
quarters the Indians glory in killing them.”

In August, 1808, Henry finally left the Panbian River on his way
westward, bidding adieu also to the Saulteur tribes, among which, as
he says, he had passed sixteen long winters. His journey was through
Lake Winnipeg to the Saskatchewan and Lake Bourbon, now known as Cedar
Lake. On the 22nd he passed old Fort Bourbon, established in 1749
by Vérendrye, and entered one of the channels of the Saskatchewan.
Wild-fowl were very abundant as they pushed up the river. At last they
entered Sturgeon Lake, and reached Cumberland House. They kept on up
the stream, ascending the north branch, from time to time meeting
Indians, some of whom were Assiniboines, called Assiniboines of the
Saskatchewan, and as they had before this purchased some horses, they
were fearful that these might be stolen. It was now September, and the
bushes were loaded with choke-cherries and service berries. Buffalo
paths running in every direction were deep and numerous. Ammunition
was issued early in September to the men for purposes of defense. Soon
buffalo were met, and here Henry first ran these animals over the rough
ground of the plains, covered with large round, stones, and pierced at
frequent intervals with badger holes. On September 13 he reached Fort
Vermilion, where was a fort of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and found the
Blackfeet all about. Here Henry wintered, expecting to be visited by
numerous tribes from the south.

Just before Christmas, in December, the Blackfeet invited Henry and his
Hudson’s Bay neighbor to come to their camp and see buffalo driven into
the pound. The two men went in dog sledges, and were kindly received
by the Indians, but the weather was insufferable, being foggy, and the
wind was contrary. They viewed the pound, where they “had only the
satisfaction of viewing the mangled carcasses strewn about the pound.
The bulls were mostly entire, none but good cows having been cut up.
The stench from this inclosure was great, even at this season, for the
weather was mild.” From the lookout hill, buffalo were seen in enormous
numbers, but as the wind was unfavorable, every herd that was brought
near to the pound dispersed and ran away. After having been there two
days, Henry became disgusted, and returned to the post; but he was
followed by a number of Blackfeet, who arrived the next day, and told
him that they had scarcely left when a large herd was brought into the
pound.

On the 26th of September, 1810, Henry set off on horseback, westward;
the canoes, of course, coming up the stream. Their destination was
Rocky Mountain House, a post located on the north Saskatchewan River,
a mile and a half above the mouth of Clearwater, three miles below
Pangman’s Tree, so named from the fact that Peter Pangman carved an
inscription on it when he first sighted the mountains in 1790.

On the way up the stream they found signs of beaver extremely
abundant; but although one of the Indians set traps in the hope of
taking some, the winds blew the smoke of the camp toward the traps,
and the beaver did not leave their houses that night. The next day,
however, they took two, the signs still showing the presence of great
quantities of beaver. Ahead of Henry was a camp of Sarsi, twenty-five
lodges, which had just left, for at their camp on Medicine Lodge River,
a branch of the Red Deer; the fires were still burning. They must have
made a good hunt here, since the bones of beaver, bear, moose, elk
and buffalo lay about their camp in great quantities. That afternoon
they met five lodges of Bloods and Sarsi, with whom they camped. Game
was abundant, and Henry notes on the 5th the appearance of a herd of
strongwood buffalo, the bison of the hills and mountains, so different
in appearance and some of their habits from those of the prairie. Here,
too, were seen the fresh tracks of a grizzly bear, measuring fourteen
inches in length.

When they reached the fort they found the Piegans friendly and quiet,
but suspicious of the whites. “These Piegans had the fresh hide of
a bull they had killed at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. This was
really a curiosity; the hair on the back was dirty white, and the long
hair under the throat and forelegs iron-gray, and sides and belly were
yellow. I wished to purchase it, but the owners would not part with it
under any consideration.” It is well understood that white buffalo,
or those that are spotted, or indeed of any unusual color, are very
highly esteemed by the tribes of the plains. Henry has referred to
this before, and I have called attention to the sacredness of the white
buffalo’s hide among the Blackfeet, Bloods, and Piegans, and among the
Cheyennes further to the south.

It was now an active time, Bloods, Piegans, and Sarsi coming and
going, bringing in some beaver, for which they received tobacco, rum,
and trifles, and occasionally a gift of clothing to some man who had
brought in an especially good lot of beaver. On November 4 the traders
had in store 720 beaver, 33 grizzly bears, 20 buffalo robes, 300
muskrats, 100 lynx--not a bad trade for the season of the year.

November 9: “I rode up river about three miles to the rising ground on
the north side, where Mr. Pangman carved his name on the pine in 1790.
This spot was the utmost distant of discoveries on the Saskatchewan
toward the Rocky Mountains, of which, indeed, we had a tolerable view
from this hill. The winding course of the river is seen until it enters
the gap of the mountains, a little east of which appears another gap,
through which, I am told, flows a south branch that empties into the
Saskatchewan some miles above this place. The mountains appear at no
great distance, all covered with snow; while we have none.” The arrival
this day of an express from below brought the news that an act of
Parliament had been passed prohibiting the sale of spirituous liquors
among the Indians.

The weather was now cold, the river occasionally choking up with ice,
and snow fell. The canoes were split by the frost, and axes broke
while the men were chopping with them. Men were sent out to get dogs
for hauling, and as soon as the country became covered with snow, dog
trains were sent down to lower Terre Blanche to bring up goods. Gros
Ventres of the Prairie had just returned with sixty horses, stolen from
the Flatheads, and others had gone off to try to take more. On the 27th
of December, “Our hunter had killed a large grizzly bear, very lean,
and, as usual with them in that state, very wicked; he narrowly escaped
being devoured. They seldom den for the winter, as black bears do, but
wander about in search of prey.”

In February Henry made a trip to the Continental Divide, to where the
waters of a branch of the Columbia rise within a very short distance
of the Saskatchewan. He was obliged to tell the Piegans that he was
going down the stream instead of up. Travel was by dog sledge, and
over the frozen river, in which there were no air holes to be seen. On
the way up, during the first day, they found a carcass of a deer that
had been killed by wolves. The ice was of great thickness, so that at
night, when a man was endeavoring to get water from the stream, he was
obliged to cut with an axe for an hour before it flowed. As they went
up the stream, the banks grew higher and nearer together, and at one
point there were seen tracks of animals coming down the mountains among
the rocks. “These are the gray sheep which have been seen about this
place, and which delight to dwell among precipices and caverns, where
they feed on a peculiar sort of clay.” The reference is evidently to a
“lick,” a place where a mineral spring has given a saline taste to the
earth round about. Such licks are common enough in the Rocky Mountains
and many other places, and are regularly visited by sheep, which often
gnaw away the earth in many places and over a considerable space. A
little further up the stream they were in full view of the mountains.
The river being low, flowed through numerous channels, some of which
were free from ice; others which were frozen, had water flowing over
the ice. On account of the wind there was little snow on the gravel
bars, and the hauling was hard for the dogs and bad for the sleds.

On the 5th he overtook his people, who had started several days
earlier, and who had killed three sheep and three cows. Here Henry
stopped for a day, and sent off three men to hunt sheep, wishing to
obtain the entire skin of an old ram. This they failed to secure, but
one of them had seen the tracks of a white goat. The next day, keeping
on, sheep tracks were seen, and Henry indulges in reflections on the
wonderful places which they passed over, and their sureness of foot.
The following day, “Shortly after leaving camp, we saw a herd of about
thirty rams feeding among the rocks on the north side. They did not
seem to be shy, though the noise of our bells and dogs was sufficient
to have alarmed a herd of buffalo two miles off. The rams stood for
some time gazing at us, and did not retreat until some people with
dogs climbed up to fire at them, when they set off at full speed,
directing their course up the mountain. I was astonished to see with
what agility they scaled the cliffs and crags. At one time I supposed
them hemmed in by rocks so steep and smooth that it seemed impossible
for any animal to escape being dashed to pieces below, but the whole
herd passed this place on a narrow horizontal ledge, without a single
misstep, and were soon out of sight.” Here Henry seems to have seen his
first flock of dippers, which interested him not a little; and on the
ice above this point he found the remains of a ram which had been run
down by wolves and devoured.

There were plenty of buffalo on Kutenai Plains, which they now reached,
but they killed none, a hunter firing at a sheep having driven them
off. Moose and elk were plenty here, as well as white-tailed deer and
grizzly bears; and here, too, were seen “white partridges”--in other
words, white-tailed ptarmigan. Still following up the river, the snow
grew deeper and deeper, so that at length they were obliged to take to
snow-shoes, and to beat a path for their dogs. On the 9th of February
they reached the Continental Divide, and passing through thick forest
came to a small opening where three streams of Columbian waters join.
The brook thus formed is Blueberry Creek, which runs into the Columbia.
That morning, when leaving camp, in the Kutenai Park, a place where
the Kutenais used to drive buffalo over the cliff, Henry had left his
hunter, Desjarlaix, behind, telling him to try to kill a white goat.
Shortly after his return to the camp, his hunter came in and told
Henry that he had seen large white goats on the mountain, directly off
Kutenai Park, where he had been trying since daybreak to get a shot at
them. “He was almost exhausted, the snow being up to his middle, and
the ground so steep as not to admit of snow-shoes. He had worked about
a quarter of the way up the mountain, but had been obliged to abandon
the attempt to reach the animals. They did not appear the least shy,
but stood gazing at him, and cropping the stunted shrubs and blades of
long grass which grew in crevices in places where the wind had blown
the snow off. As I desired to obtain the skin of one of those animals,
I gave him dry mittens and trousers to put on, went with him to the
foot of the mountain, and I pointed out a place where I supposed it was
possible to reach them. We could perceive all three, still standing
abreast on the edge of a precipice, looking down upon us, but they were
at a great height. He once more undertook the arduous task of climbing
up in pursuit of them, while I returned to the camp. A hunter in these
mountains requires many pairs of shoes (i. e., moccasins), the rocks
are so rough and sharp that a pair of good strong moose-leather shoes
are soon torn to pieces. The white goat is [not] larger than the gray
sheep, thickly covered with long, pure white wool, and has short black,
nearly erect horns. These animals seldom leave the mountain tops;
winter or summer they prefer the highest regions. Late in the evening
my hunter returned, exhausted, and covered with ice, having labored in
the snow till his clothes became all wet, and soon after stiff with
ice. He had ascended half way when the sun set, which obliged him to
return.”

The next day Henry wished to send his hunter out again, but the poor
fellow was so done up and his legs so swollen by the exercise of the
day before that the effort was given up. They therefore started down
the river, past the camp of the day before, where they found that the
men had killed sheep, buffalo, a large black wolf, and a Canada lynx.
The following day they saw a herd of rams on the rocks, and tried to
get a shot, “but one of our men, being some distance ahead, and not
observing them, continued to drive on, which alarmed and drove them up
into the mountains. I regretted this very much as the herd consisted
of old rams with enormous horns; one of them appeared to be very lean,
with extraordinarily heavy horns, whose weight he seemed scarcely
able to support. When the horns grow to such great length, forming a
complete curve, the ends project on both sides of the head so as to
prevent the animal from feeding, which, with their great weight, causes
the sheep to dwindle to a mere skeleton and die. We soon afterward saw
a herd of buffalo on the hills near the river, but on hearing the sound
of the bells they ran away, and appeared much more shy than sheep.”
Continuing down the river, they reached the fort, February 13.

Henry finished the winter at Rocky Mountain House, and in May, 1811,
started down the river to Fort Augustus.

There is now a long break, extending over two years, in Henry’s
journal, the third part, as Dr. Coues has divided it, being devoted to
the Columbia. November 15, 1813, finds him at Astoria, the scene of so
many trials of fur traders, and the place about which so many books
have been written. The journal for the two intervening years has not
been discovered. It may yet turn up and, if it shall, will undoubtedly
give us much interesting information. What we know is that Henry came
to Astoria from Fort William, but how he got there we do not know. His
party came, however, in bark canoes, for a contemporary writer says
as much as that. Not only was Henry here on the west coast, but his
nephew, William Henry, who had been frequently associated with him in
past years, even back on the Pembina River.

The character of the Indians here interested Henry, and he makes his
usual frank and not always elegant comments on them. On November 30
the British ship “Raccoon” reached Astoria, captured the place, and
thereafter it was a British trading-post, under the name Fort George.
Duncan McDougal, the chief factor, had left the Northwest Company
to enter Mr. Astor’s service, in 1810, but without any particular
hesitation he surrendered to the British ship, although the Indians
were only too anxious to defend the place for the Americans, and to
assist the white men in holding it. As a matter of fact, however, most
of the employees of Mr. Astor were British subjects, and were very glad
to have the place taken.

Much time was expended on the final settlement of the accounts between
McDougal, who had been Mr. Astor’s representative at Astoria, and the
representatives of the Northwest Company, who were now in possession;
but at last this was all finished, and on December 31 the “Raccoon”
made sail, and disappeared behind Point Adams.

Rains were constant, and the fur traders and their property suffered
much from wet and dampness. With this spring, Henry for the first
time seems to have seen the Indians catching smelts and herrings, and
describes the well-known rake used on the western coast: “They had a
pole about ten feet long and two inches thick, on one side of which was
fixed a range of small sharp bones, like teeth, about one inch long, a
quarter of an inch asunder, the range of teeth ascending six feet up
the blade. This instrument is used in smelt fishery.” As is well known,
the Indians sweep this instrument through the water in places where the
small fish are schooled, and at each sweep of the rake from one to half
dozen fish are impaled, when the implement being brought to the surface
and held over the canoe, the fish are jarred from it into the vessel.
On the 28th of February a ship, the “Pedler,” brought Mr. Hunt, who was
second to Mr. Astor in the management of the Pacific Fur Company, and
headed the original overland Astor expedition in 1810-1812.

There was now a gathering of all the partners and those interested in
the Northwest Company and the Pacific Fur Company for a settling of
accounts between Hunt and McDougal. The “Pedler” got under way April 2.
On April 4 a brigade of ten canoes set off up the river. This left a
small contingent at Fort George, and this contingent very ill provided.
They had a little spoiled California beef and a little bad grease. In
addition they had only the smelts caught by the Indians and these were
often spoiled, so that the men refused to eat them, and the little
provision that they could buy from the Indians, a few beaver, deer, and
elk--called _biche_ by Henry. As a result many of the men were ill, and
fourteen were in hospital at one time. To help out the lack of sugar or
molasses, they experimented in making a decoction of camas root, which
produces a kind of syrup, preferable to molasses for sweetening coffee.
Among the skins brought in by the Indians were occasionally those of
tame cats, which Henry conjectures to be the offspring of cats lost
from Spanish ships that had been cast ashore.

April 22 a ship was seen, which proved to be the “Isaac Todd,” on
which came Mr. J. C. McTavish, who was to take charge of Fort George
as governor. Work went on; loading and unloading the ship, buying
provisions, the annoyances of small quarrels between various people.
The entry in Henry’s diary of May 21, 1814, is partly finished, and
then ends with a dash; for on Sunday, May 22, Alexander Henry, Donald
McTavish, and five sailors were drowned while going out to the ship.

So perished Alexander Henry, the younger, after twenty-two years of
adventure, extending from the Great Lakes to the Pacific, and from the
Missouri River north to Lake Athabasca. It may fairly be said of all
the books that have been written by the early travellers and traders in
America this is the most interesting and the most curious.




CHAPTER XIX

ROSS COX

I


On the 17th of October, 1811, the ship “Beaver,” Captain Cornelius
Sowles, sailed from New York for the mouth of the Columbia River.
She carried one partner, six clerks, and a number of artisans and
voyageurs, of the Pacific Fur Company, an association of which John
Jacob Astor was the chief proprietor. Among the clerks on this ship
was Ross Cox, who, some years later, published a work in two volumes,
called _The Columbia River, or Scenes and Adventures During a Residence
of Six Years on the Western Side of the Rocky Mountains among Various
Tribes of Indians Hitherto Unknown, Together with a Journey Across the
American Continent_.

Cox was a British subject, but, like many of his compatriots, was eager
to secure an appointment in Mr. Astor’s company, for he was captivated
by the love of novelty, and by the hope of speedily realizing an
independence in the new country that was being opened.

It will be remembered that, for about a hundred years after its
charter had been granted, the Hudson’s Bay Company made little effort
to extend into the interior the trading-posts which it, alone, had
the privilege of establishing on the shores of the Hudson’s Bay and
its tributary rivers. True, trading-posts had been established in
the interior, but chiefly by the French traders, who had practically
possessed the country until the close of the French and Indian War.
Then came the founding of the Northwest Fur Company of Canada, before
long a formidable rival to the Hudson’s Bay Company. It was conducted
on the wiser plan of giving each one of its employees the chance to
rise and become a partner, provided only his success justified the
promotion. The Hudson’s Bay Company, on the other hand, hired its men
and paid them regularly, but offered no inducements to extra exertion
on the part of its officers. The result could not be doubtful; the new
company pressed the old one hard; and consolidation at length took
place between the two.

In the early part of the last century, John Jacob Astor, whose
fur trade with the interior had not been altogether satisfactory,
determined to explore the northwest coast, and proposed to the
Northwest Company to join him in establishing a trading-post on the
Columbia River. The proposition was declined. Nevertheless, in 1809,
Astor formed the Pacific Fur Company, and needing able and experienced
traders, he induced a number of men connected with the Northwest
Company to leave that establishment and join him. Among these were
Alexander M’Kay, who had been a companion of Sir Alexander Mackenzie in
earlier days.

[Illustration: ASTORIA IN 1813.

From Franchere’s _Narrative of a Voyage to the Northwest Coast of
America_.]

Astor’s plan was to establish posts on the north-west coast, to which
each year a vessel should carry goods for the Indian trade, and having
discharged her cargo at the mouth of the Columbia River, should take
on board the furs of the year’s trade, and thence proceed to China;
selling her furs there, she should load with the products of that
country and return to New York.

The first vessel fitted out by the Pacific Fur Company was the
ill-fated “Tonquin,” commanded by Captain Jonathan Thorn. She sailed
from New York in 1810, with a number of partners, clerks, and artisans,
and with a large cargo of goods for the Indian trade; and about the
same time a party under W. P. Hunt and Donald Mackenzie left St. Louis
to cross the continent to the mouth of the Columbia.

The “Beaver” was the next of these annual ships to sail. She rounded
the Horn, and touched at the Sandwich Islands, where a number of the
natives were shipped as laborers for the post, and on the 8th of May
the ship’s company found themselves opposite the mouth of the Columbia
River. They crossed the bar without accident and, after a voyage of six
months and twenty-two days, cast anchor in Baker’s Bay.

The accounts which they received from their friends at Astoria were
very discouraging. There had been frequent quarrels between the
captain of the “Tonquin” and his passengers. The captain was a man of
great daring, but harsh and arbitrary in manner, and very ready to
quarrel with his British passengers. His obstinacy resulted in the
loss of several men at the mouth of the Columbia; and the chief mate
of the vessel, in consequence of a dispute with the captain, left
her, and obtained an assignment to command a little schooner built by
the company. The “Tonquin,” with M’Kay and Lewis, one of the clerks
on board, dropped down to the mouth of the Columbia and proceeded
northward, to go as far as Cooke’s River, on a trading excursion.

In the meantime, the overland parties, under the command of Mackenzie,
M’Lellan, Hunt, and Crooks, after great suffering, reached the fort.

The fate of the “Tonquin” was learned in the month of August, 1811,
from a party of Indians from Gray’s Harbor. They came to the Columbia
for fishing, and told the Chinooks that the “Tonquin” had been cut off
by one of the northern tribes, and every soul massacred. This is what
seems to have happened. The “Tonquin,” somewhere in the neighborhood
of Nootka, cast anchor, and M’Kay began to trade with the natives, who
were perfectly willing to part with their furs. One of the principal
men, however, having been detected in some small theft, was struck
by the captain, and in revenge the Indians formed a conspiracy to
take possession of the vessel. The interpreter learned of this, and
told M’Kay, who warned the captain of the intended attack; but he
only laughed at the information, and made no preparations for it. The
Indians continued to visit the ship, and without arms. The day before
the vessel was to leave, two large canoes, each containing about twenty
men, appeared alongside. They had some furs in their canoes and were
allowed to come on board. Soon three more canoes followed; and the
officers of the watch, seeing that a number of others were leaving the
shore, warned Captain Thorn of the circumstances. He immediately came
on the quarter-deck, accompanied by Mr. M’Kay and the interpreter.
The latter, on observing that they all wore short cloaks or mantles
of skin, which was by no means a general custom, at once knew their
designs were hostile and told Mr. M’Kay of his suspicions. That
gentleman immediately apprised Captain Thorn of the circumstances,
and begged him to lose no time in clearing the ship of intruders.
This caution was, however, treated with contempt by the captain, who
remarked, that with the arms they had on board they would be more than
a match for three times the number. The sailors in the meantime had
all come on the deck, which was crowded with Indians, who completely
blocked up the passages, and obstructed the men in the performance of
their various duties. The captain requested them to retire, to which
they paid no attention. He then told them he was about going to sea,
and had given orders to the men to raise the anchor; that he hoped they
would go away quietly; but if they refused, he should be compelled to
force their departure. He had scarcely finished when, at a signal given
by one of the chiefs, a loud and frightful yell was heard from the
assembled savages, who commenced a sudden and simultaneous attack on
the officers and crew with knives, bludgeons, and short sabres which
they had concealed under their robes.

“M’Kay was one of the first attacked. One Indian gave him a severe blow
with a bludgeon, which partially stunned him; upon which he was seized
by five or six others, who threw him overboard into a canoe alongside,
where he quickly recovered and was allowed to remain for some time
uninjured.

“Captain Thorn made an ineffectual attempt to reach the cabin for
his firearms, but was overpowered by numbers. His only weapon was a
jack-knife, with which he killed four of his savage assailants by
ripping up their bellies, and mutilated several others. Covered with
wounds, and exhausted from the loss of blood, he rested himself for a
moment by leaning on the tiller wheel, when he received a dreadful blow
from a weapon called a pautumaugan, on the back part of the head, which
felled him to the deck. The death-dealing knife fell from his hand, and
his savage butchers, after extinguishing the few sparks of life that
still remained, threw his mangled body overboard.

“On seeing the captain’s fate, our informant, who was close to him,
and who had hitherto escaped uninjured, jumped into the water and
was taken into a canoe by some women, who partially covered his body
with mats. He states that the original intention of the enemy was to
detain Mr. M’Kay a prisoner, and after securing the vessel to give
him his liberty, on obtaining a ransom from Astoria. But on finding
the resistance made by the captain and crew, the former of whom had
killed one of their principal chiefs, their love of gain gave way to
revenge, and they resolved to destroy him. The last time the ill-fated
gentleman was seen, his head was hanging over the side of a canoe, and
three savages, armed with pautumaugans, were battering out his brains.

“In the meantime the devoted crew, who had maintained the unequal
conflict with unparalleled bravery, became gradually overpowered. Three
of them, John Anderson, the boatswain; John Weekes, the carpenter;
[and] Stephen Weekes, who had narrowly escaped at the Columbia,
succeeded after a desperate struggle in gaining possession of the
cabin, the entrance to which was securely fastened inside. The Indians
now became more cautious, for they well knew there were plenty of
firearms below; and they had already experienced enough of the prowess
of the three men while on deck, and armed only with hand-spikes, to
dread approaching them while they had more mortal weapons at their
command.

“Anderson and his two companions seeing their commander and the crew
dead and dying about them, and that no hope of escape remained,
and feeling, moreover, the uselessness of any further opposition,
determined on taking a terrible revenge. Two of them, therefore, set
about laying a train to the powder magazine, while the third addressed
some Indians from the windows, who were in canoes, and gave them to
understand that if they were permitted to depart unmolested in one
of the ship’s boats they would give them quiet possession of the
vessel without firing a shot; stipulating, however, that no canoe
should remain near them while getting into the boat. The anxiety
of the barbarians to obtain possession of the plunder, and their
disinclination to risk any more lives, induced them to embrace this
proposition with eagerness, and the pinnace was immediately brought
astern. The three heroes having by this time perfected their dreadful
arrangements, and ascertained that no Indian was watching them,
gradually lowered themselves from the cabin windows into the boat; and
having fired the train, quickly pushed off toward the mouth of the
harbor, no obstacle being interposed to prevent their departure.

“Hundreds of the enemy now rushed on deck to seize the long-expected
prize, shouting yells of victory; but their triumph was of short
duration. Just as they had burst open the cabin door, an explosion took
place, which, in an instant, hurled upward of two hundred savages into
eternity, and dreadfully injured as many more. The interpreter, who had
by this time reached land, states he saw many mutilated bodies floating
near the beach, while heads, arms and legs, together with fragments of
the ship, were thrown to a considerable distance on the shore.

“The first impression of the survivors was, that the Master of Life had
sent forth the Evil Spirit from the waters to punish them for their
cruelty to the white people. This belief, joined to the consternation
occasioned by the shock, and the reproaches and lamentations of the
wives and other relatives of the sufferers, paralyzed for a time the
exertions of the savages and favored the attempt of Anderson and his
brave comrades to escape. They rowed hard for the mouth of the harbor
with the intention, as is supposed, of coasting along the shore to the
Columbia; but after passing the bar, a head-wind and flowing tide drove
them back and compelled them to land late at night in a small cove,
where they fancied themselves free from danger, and where, weak from
the loss of blood and the harassing exertions of the day, they fell
into a profound sleep.” Here they were captured, and a little later
killed.

Such is Cox’s account of the destruction of the “Tonquin,” obtained,
we may presume, from the interpreter. Other accounts of the same event
agree with it in its main facts, though there is some question as to
who it was who blew up the ship, some narrators believing that it was
Stephen Weekes, while others think that it was Lewis, the clerk.

As if the spirits of the newly arrived traders had not been
sufficiently damped by the story of the “Tonquin,” an added misfortune
followed the next day. This was the return of one of the parties that
had started overland, some to trade, others to carry despatches to the
east. These men had been driven back by an encounter with Indians, and
after great difficulties and much suffering, reached the post again.

On the 28th of June, 1812, a party of nearly a hundred men, well
supplied with trade goods, started in canoes up the Columbia. They
went well prepared to meet the Indians, each man carrying a musket
and forty rounds of ball cartridges, and each also wearing leathern
armor, “a kind of shirt made out of the skin of the elk, which
reached from the neck to the knees. It was perfectly arrow-proof, and
at eighty or ninety yards impenetrable by a musket bullet. Besides
the muskets, numbers had daggers, short swords, and pistols; and when
armed cap-à-pie we presented a formidable appearance.” Metal armor, of
course, was unknown to the Indians, but shields and body armor were
common to many tribes. This was of several kinds, sometimes made of
rows of overlapping plates of ivory or bone, of wood in the form of
slats or rods, held in place by hide, or of coats, helmets, and so
on, of hardened hide. Between 1840 and 1850 trappers on the prairie
sometimes hung about their necks, to protect the front of their bodies,
the hides of mule-deer dressed with the hair on. These skins, when wet,
would stop an arrow. After the coming of the white men, a few suits, or
portions of suits, of armor came into possession of one or more of the
plains tribes, were highly valued by them, used for a long time, and
gave origin to a personal name now common among the plains tribes--Iron
Shirt.

At the portage every precaution was taken to guard against surprises.
Five officers were stationed at each end of the portage, and several
others, with twenty-five men, were scattered along it at short
distances from one another. This was especially necessary at the foot
of the first rapids, where the portage was three or four miles long,
the path narrow and dangerous, and in some places obstructed.

The ascent of the river, over falls and rapids, was very laborious. The
boats had to be dragged up part of the way, and the labor was hard
and long-continued. A little negligence by some of the men who were at
the upper end of the portage resulted in a small trouble, for, while
they wandered a short distance from the goods, two Indians endeavored
to carry off an entire bale. It was too heavy for them, and they were
about to open and carry away the contents, when two men, carrying
burdens, arrived and gave the alarm. The Indians attacked the men, but
the disturbance called back the officers, and the Indians fled. “A
shot was fired at them by our best marksman, who was told merely to
wing one, which he did with great skill, by breaking his left arm, at
upward of a hundred yards distance. The fellow gave a dreadful shout on
receiving the ball, but still continued his flight with his comrade,
until we lost sight of them.”

Keeping on up the rapids, they saw other Indians, some of whom were on
horseback, and much more attractive to the eye than the canoe Indians
seen farther down the river. From the fishing Indians they purchased
salmon in considerable numbers.

Before this they had reached the high, volcanic, treeless country, and
had found rattlesnakes; and here an odd incident happened to one of
the men, named La Course, which might have been fatal. Cox says: “This
man had stretched himself on the ground, after the fatigue of the day,
with his head resting on a small package of goods, and quickly fell
asleep. While in this situation I passed him, and was almost petrified
at seeing a large rattlesnake moving from his side to his left breast.
My first impulse was to alarm La Course; but an old Canadian whom I had
beckoned to the spot requested me to make no noise, alleging it would
merely cross the body and go away. He was mistaken, for on reaching the
man’s shoulder, the serpent deliberately coiled itself, but did not
appear to meditate an attack. Having made signs to several others, who
joined us, I was determined that two men should advance a little in
front to divert the attention of the snake, while one should approach
La Course behind, and with a long stick endeavor to remove it from
his body. The snake, on observing the men advance in front, instantly
raised its head, darted out its forked tongue, and shook its rattles;
all indications of anger. Every one was now in a state of feverish
agitation as to the fate of poor La Course, who still lay slumbering,
unconscious of his danger; when the man behind, who had procured a
stick seven feet in length, suddenly placed one end of it under the
coiled reptile, and succeeded in pitching it upwards of ten feet from
the man’s body. A shout of joy was the first intimation La Course
received of his wonderful escape, while in the meantime the man with
the stick pursued the snake, which he killed. It was three feet six
inches long.”

Toward the end of July the party camped at the mouth of the Walla Walla
River, and met a number of Indians of that tribe. Twenty horses were
purchased for Robert Stewart’s party, and its eleven members left the
next day for St. Louis. The Walla Wallas were kind and gentle, yet
dignified; as were also the Indians of the Pierced-Nose tribe, then
called by the French Les Nez Percés, a name which they still retain.
Their houses were large; some square, others oblong, and some conical;
they were covered with mats fixed on poles, and varied from twenty to
seventy feet in length. These people seemed well to do, and owned many
horses, twenty-five of which the traders bought; and from this time
on some of them proceeded by land, while the others dragged, paddled,
or poled the canoes up the stream. It was at a Pierced-Nose village,
at no very great distance from the Columbia, on Lewis River, that the
party left their boats and canoes, cacheing them in the willow brush,
and leaving them in charge of the chief. Here they secured about
fifty horses for pack animals, and a few for riding, but not nearly
enough to give a horse to each man. Travelling along up the stream,
the thirty-two men who were in Cox’s company started for the country
of the Spokanes. They had the usual incidents of travel--trouble with
pack-horses, lack of grass for their animals, often lack of water for
themselves; but before they had gone very far an adventure happened to
the author which made it impossible for him to chronicle the doings of
his party.

On the 17th of August they stopped for noon, and turned their horses
out to graze in very good feed. Cox went apart some distance, and
after feasting on the fruit that grew here, lay down and went to
sleep. When he awoke, the sun was low and no sound was to be heard.
His companions had vanished. It afterward appeared that they had
started in three sections, at a little distance from one another, and
that each division of the command supposed Cox to be with one of the
other divisions. It was not until toward night that his absence was
discovered; and in the meantime he had awakened and set off in pursuit
of the party, but soon lost the trail. He was lightly clad in a shirt
and pair of cotton trousers and moccasins. He had no arms, no knife,
no means of making a fire. The first night out he plucked a quantity
of grass, covered himself with that, and slept through the night. On
the following day he journeyed eastward, and late in the evening saw,
only a mile from him, two horsemen rapidly riding to the east. They
were near enough so that he could see that they belonged to his party.
He raced after them, shouted, waved his shirt, and did everything
possible to attract their attention, but they did not see him. By this
time his moccasins had absolutely gone to pieces, and this night the
labor of pulling the grass cut his hands. It was two days since he had
eaten. Birds and deer were numerous, and close to him fish were seen
in the waters, but he could not catch them. That night, however, he
found an abundant supply of cherries, which gave him a hearty supper;
but the howling of wolves and “growling of bears” kept him awake much
of the night. The following day he looked for horse tracks, and at
night returned to the place where he had slept before. His feet were
now so much lacerated by prickly-pears and the stones over which he
had walked, that he was obliged to make bandages for them from the
legs of his trousers. His fear of wolves and bears grew; and perhaps
the man’s weak condition tempted the animals, for he tells us that
they came quite close to him. As he wandered on, he occasionally saw
horse tracks, but always old, yet showing that there were people in
the country. On the night of the 25th, he found no water, and as he
was about to lie down to sleep, he found that he was surrounded by
snakes of every kind. “This was a peculiarly, soul-trying moment,” he
tells us. “I had tasted no fruit since the morning before, and after
a painful day’s march under a burning sun, could not procure a drop
of water to allay my feverish thirst. I was surrounded by a murderous
brood of serpents, and ferocious beasts of prey; and without even
the consolation of knowing when such misery might have a probable
termination. I might truly say with the royal psalmist that ‘the snares
of death compassed me round about.’” But he lived through it. All the
next day he travelled without water, and when at night he came to a
stream, he was so weak that he fell into it, and was almost carried
away, but caught himself by an overhanging bough and regained the
shore. Here he found food and ate it eagerly. “On looking about for a
place to sleep, I observed lying on the ground the hollow trunk of a
large pine, which had been destroyed by lightning. I retreated into
the cavity; and having covered myself completely with large pieces of
loose bark, quickly fell asleep. My repose was not of long duration;
for at the end of about two hours I was awakened by the growling of
a bear, which had removed part of the bark covering and was leaning
over me with his snout, hesitating as to the means he should adopt to
dislodge me; the narrow limits of the trunk which confined my body
prevented him from making the attack with advantage. I instantly sprang
up, seized my stick, and uttered a loud cry, which startled him, and
caused him to recede a few steps; when he stopped and turned about
apparently doubtful whether he would commence an attack. He determined
on an assault; but feeling that I had not sufficient strength to meet
such an unequal enemy, I thought it prudent to retreat, and accordingly
scrambled up an adjoining tree. My flight gave fresh impulse to his
courage, and he commenced ascending after me. I succeeded, however,
in gaining a branch, which gave me a decided advantage over him; and
from which I was enabled to annoy his muzzle and claws in such a manner
with my stick as effectually to check his progress. After scraping
the bark some time with rage and disappointment, he gave up the task,
and retired to my late dormitory, of which he took possession. The
fear of falling off, in case I was overcome by sleep, induced me to
make several attempts to descend; but each attempt aroused my ursine
sentinel; and, after many ineffectual efforts, I was obliged to remain
there during the rest of the night. I fixed myself in that part of
the trunk from which the principal grand branches forked, and which
prevented me from falling during my fitful slumbers. A little after
sunrise, the bear quitted the trunk, shook himself, ‘cast a longing,
lingering look’ toward me, and slowly disappeared in search of his
morning repast. After waiting some time, apprehensive of his return, I
descended and resumed my journey through the woods.”

A few hours later Cox came upon a well-beaten horse-trail, with fresh
tracks both of hoofs and human feet. Following this he came that
evening to a spot where the party had camped the preceding night; and
about a large fire which was still burning found the half-picked bones
of grouse and ducks, on which he made a hearty meal, the first flesh
he had tasted in a long time. For two days more he followed the trail,
on the second day finding fruit. The tracks grew constantly fresher,
but the bandages of his feet were constantly wearing out, and, with
the exception of his shirt, he was almost naked. At evening he came to
a fork in the trail, with fresh tracks on both branches. One led up a
hill, the other into a valley. Cox took the upper one, but as it was
growing dark, feared that he might not find water at night, and turned
back and followed the trail into the valley. Before he had gone far he
thought he heard the neighing of a horse, and hurrying onward, before
long he saw several horses feeding in a meadow on the other side of
a stream. He crossed, and one of the horses approached him, and to
the weak and starving man the good beast looked like a real friend. A
little farther on he saw smoke, and then two women appeared, who at
sight of him fled to a shelter at the farther end of the meadow. From
this at once emerged two men, who came running toward him in the most
friendly manner. They carried him in their arms to their home; washed
and dressed his wounds, roasted some roots and boiled salmon for him.
In fact, they treated him as if he had been a relation rather than a
stranger. The men talked with him in signs, and gave him to understand
that they knew who he was, and that he had been lost and that they
with other Indians and white men had been searching for him. To a man
who had been wandering in the desert for fourteen days, the sight of
these Indians, and the harsh, guttural sounds by which they expressed
their thoughts, were perfectly delightful. Full, warm, and clad, for
the first time in two weeks, he slept that night as he had never slept
before.

The next day the men took him in a canoe across the Cœur d’Alene River,
and having given him deer-skin clothing, they set off on horseback to
the eastward.

After seven hours they came to where some of the Canadians were at work
getting wood. François Gardepie joined them just before they reached
the tents, and taking Cox for an Indian, spoke to him. It was not
until he replied in French that he recognized him, and there was much
rejoicing in all the camp when he joined his people. The party had
supposed that he had long perished; for considering his youth and his
inexperience in the Indian country, the oldest voyageurs had given him
up after the sixth day.




CHAPTER XX

ROSS COX

II


It was October 17, the anniversary of the sailing from New York of the
“Beaver,” that Cox and Farnham set out on their trading expedition
to the Flatheads, and on the 10th of November they reached the small
village of these people. They were charmed with their frank and
hospitable reception, and with the superiority in cleanliness of these
Indians over other tribes that they had seen. They determined to remain
here for a while, and began the building of a log house in which to
winter. Meantime the Indians kept coming in, and they made quite a
trade in beaver. In December, Cox, having had a good canoe built of
cedar planks, took leave of Farnham, and with six men set out to
descend the river to Spokane, which was reached about New Year’s day.

During a trip to the Flatheads, Cox witnessed an extraordinary display
of fortitude by a Blackfoot prisoner whom they were torturing. It is a
graphic picture of the savage cruelty of the savage man, and is far too
horrible to print. An effort was made by the traders to put an end to
these tortures, and the Flatheads were induced to set free, and send
away to their people, a number of Blackfeet women. To these prisoners,
now being set free, it was explained that torture between the tribes
ought to cease, and as they were turned loose unharmed, it was hoped
that they would persuade their people on the prairies to abstain in
future from torturing Flathead captives. Cox is enthusiastic about the
attractiveness of the Flatheads. It was here that he was successfully
treated for rheumatism by an old Indian doctor; the cure being a
morning bath in the river, now frozen over, through a hole in the ice,
followed by rubbing of the affected parts by the old doctor. After
twenty-five days of the treatment the trouble had entirely disappeared.

In August, 1814, a party of sixty men, including proprietors and
clerks, left Fort George to go up the river with trade goods. On
the way they met some Indians, who attempted to steal various small
articles, and were warned to stop it, but paid no attention to the
orders. Three caught in the act of pilfering were flogged. At night
the party was attacked by Indians, and a Canadian was killed. There
were many narrow escapes. Passing up the river they met with the
Walla Wallas, who received them in their usual friendly way. A little
later the party separated, the division to which Cox was assigned
going to Spokane House, where the Indians, who had expended all their
ammunition, received them with great joy. An amusing sketch is given of
the personality and character of the Scotchman, McDonald, celebrated
for his great size, his flaming red hair, and his daring bravery. A
small tribe of Indians were camped between an immense fall in the
Columbia, known as La Chaudière, and Spokane House; their chief was
a philosopher, frugal, thrifty, opposed to gambling, and so in many
respects different from the average Indian.

In October the various parties returned to Fort George with the
proceeds of their trade, and on the 18th of November again set out
for the interior. Not far above the mouth of the Walla Walla they
met a number of Indians coming down. They stopped the first canoes
to ask for tobacco, and as they passed the last ones, endeavored to
take from them some bales of goods. The arms of the canoemen were not
within reach, but each of the proprietors or clerks carried his arms.
Every effort was made to avoid open hostilities. The canoemen tried to
beat the Indians off with their paddles, and the Indians had not yet
attempted to use their arms. When a tall Indian refused to let go the
bale of goods that he was trying to take from McDonald’s canoe, M’Kay
struck him with the butt end of his gun, and obliged him to drop the
bale. The Indian instantly placed an arrow on his bow, which he aimed
at McDonald, who quickly stretched forth his arm, seized the arrow,
broke it to pieces, and threw them into the Indian’s face. The Indian,
by this time very angry, had ordered his canoe to push off, and was
just about to shoot an arrow at McDonald when M’Kay fired and killed
him. His two companions were about to use their bows, but McDonald,
who had a double-barrelled gun, shot them both, killing one and
severely wounding the other. The fight was on, but the Indians threw
themselves in the bottom of their canoes out of sight, and the vessels
soon drifted down the river, and out of gunshot. The traders at once
went ashore and armed themselves. The Indians lurked about and shot at
them, but without effect. Embarking, the white men paddled to a narrow
island in the river, built breastworks, and prepared for defence. The
next day the wind blew hard, and they were obliged to pass the night
on the island. Meantime the Indians were signaling, and canoes could
be heard crossing and recrossing the river. The spirits of the white
men were low, and they believed that they were likely all to be killed.
The next day the traders sent out a flag of truce to the enemy, and
asked for a talk, being determined to pay the relatives of the dead
for the loss, rather than to have any fighting. The Indians refused
this, however, and declared that two white men must be delivered to
them to be treated as they thought best. One of these white men, it was
explained, must be McDonald. The offers made by the traders had been
sufficiently liberal, but the sentiment of the savages seemed to be
that these offers must be refused, and that white men must be killed
to accompany the dead Indians on their way to the home of the dead.
After a heated discussion, it became evident that there was little
hope of a compromise or of peace. One by one the Indians sulkily drew
away from the council and joined their friends who were sitting at a
distance behind them. Just before the conference was over, however, it
was interrupted by the arrival of a dozen mounted Indians, who dashed
into the space between the two parties, and halted there. These men
were under the leadership of a young chief whose courage and wisdom
was respected by all the Indians of the country. He made a strong plea
for a peaceful settlement of the difficulty, finally declaring that no
one of the Indians should dare to attack the whites. This speech put
a different look on matters, and the Indians presently consented to
the proposed compromise, and smoked with the traders. The wounded and
the relatives of the dead proved quite willing to accept the payments
offered, and friendly relations were renewed.

In May, 1816, the author found himself once more at Okinagan, and
this time occupying the chief position there. He at once set to work
to rebuild the post, where he spent the summer. The point between the
Okinagan River and the Columbia, where the trading post was built,
was absolutely free from rattlesnakes, although the surrounding
country abounded with them. The snakes were frequently eaten by the
Canadians, who skinned them as eels are skinned, and then spitted
them on a stick run through the body, and roasted them before a fire.
Cox tells a curious story of the treatment by an old Indian of a
young woman supposed to have consumption. The treatment consisted in
killing a dog and placing the foot and leg of the patient within the
newly killed carcass until the flesh became cold. They were then taken
out and bandaged with warm flannel. Besides this, she took daily a
small quantity of bark in a glass of port-wine. The result was that
her condition greatly improved; she regained her appetite, and in
the autumn was strong enough to travel across the mountains with her
husband. The following summer Cox met her at Rainy Lake in the full
enjoyment of health. Cox also tells of a white man, absolutely dying
of a decline, who was cured by being placed at short intervals in
the body of a newly killed horse. After two treatments of this kind,
at intervals of a few days, he began to regain his strength, and by
adhering to simple and careful living, was finally restored to his
ordinary health.

Wolves were very abundant here, and were very troublesome to the
horses. “These destructive animals annually destroy numbers of
horses,” Cox writes, “particularly during the winter season, when
the latter get entangled in the snow, in which situation they become
an easy prey to their light-footed pursuers, ten or fifteen of which
will often fasten on one animal, and with their long fangs in a few
minutes separate the head from the body. If, however, the horses are
not prevented from using their legs, they sometimes punish the enemy
severely; as an instance of this, I saw one morning the bodies of two
of our horses which had been killed the night before, and around were
lying eight dead and maimed wolves; some with their brains scattered
about, and others with their limbs and ribs broken by the hoofs of the
furious animals in their vain attempts to escape from their sanguinary
assailants.

“While I was at Spokane I went occasionally to the horse prairie, which
is nearly surrounded by partially wooded hills, for the purpose of
watching the manœuvres of the wolves in their combined attacks. The
first announcement of their approach was a few shrill currish barks
at intervals, like the outpost firing of skirmishing parties. These
were answered by similar barking from an opposite direction, until the
sounds gradually approximated, and at length ceased on the junction of
the different parties. We prepared our guns, and concealed ourselves
behind a thick cover. In the meantime, the horses, sensible of the
approaching danger, began to paw the ground, snort, toss up their
heads, look wildly about them, and exhibit all the symptoms of fear.
One or two stallions took the lead, and appeared to await with a degree
of comparative composure for the appearance of the enemy.

“The allies at length entered the field in a semi-circular form, with
their flanks extended for the evident purpose of surrounding their
prey. They were between two and three hundred strong. The horses, on
observing their movement, knew from experience its object, and dreading
to encounter so numerous a force, instantly turned around and galloped
off in a contrary direction. Their flight was the signal for the wolves
to advance; and immediately uttering a simultaneous yell, they charged
after the fugitives, still preserving their crescent form. Two or three
of the horses, which were not in the best condition, were quickly
overtaken by the advanced guard of the enemy. The former, finding
themselves unable to keep up with the band, commenced kicking at their
pursuers, several of which received some severe blows; but these
being reinforced by others, they would have shortly despatched the
horses, had we not just in time emerged from our place of concealment
and discharged a volley at the enemy’s center, by which a few were
brought down. The whole battalion instantly wheeled about and fled
toward the hills in the utmost disorder; while the horses, on hearing
the fire, changed their course, and galloped up to us. Our appearance
saved several of them from the fangs of their foes; and by their
neighing they seemed to express their joy and gratitude at our timely
interference.”

In portions of the country inhabited by the Walla Wallas, Nez Percés,
and Shoshones, wild horses were at this time very abundant. Sometimes
from seven hundred to a thousand were seen in a band, and persons who
had crossed the continent by the Missouri route told Cox that in the
Snake Indian country bands varying from three to four thousand were
frequently seen. The Spaniards at San Francisco informed the traders of
the Northwest Company that in the year 1812 they were obliged to kill
upward of thirty thousand horses in California in order to preserve
sufficient grass for the buffalo. Just what is meant by California in
this connection is uncertain, since it is not known that the buffalo
were ever found in the California of modern times.

In his description of the horses of the country, Cox tells of a ride of
seventy-two miles which he made between twelve o’clock in the morning
and soon after dark, to outstrip some rival traders who were on their
way to the Flatheads. The Flatheads were out of tobacco, but Farnham,
who was in charge of the party, felt sure that if a supply of this
commodity were brought them at once, they would promise their skins to
him. Cox, riding a splendid horse, known as Le Bleu, reached Farnham
two hours in advance of his rivals, and secured the trade.

In the summer of 1816 Cox determined to abandon Indian trading, and
applied to the proprietors for leave, which was granted with regret.
Nevertheless, he wintered at Okinagan.

In April, 1817, Cox joined a party of eighty-six men who embarked in
two barges and nine canoes from Fort George to ascend the Columbia.
They continued up the river with various adventures, seeing Indians
constantly, but having no trouble with them, and on the seventeenth
day twenty-three of the party who were to cross the Rocky Mountains
to the plains left the loaded canoes and continued up the Columbia,
past Okinagan, the mouth of the Spokane River, to Great Kettle Falls.
Continuing, they passed through the lakes on the Columbia. The river
grew narrower and narrower, and the current swifter, and at length
they reached the Rocky Mountain portage, where they were to leave
their canoes. The hard work done on the trip had so far exhausted
many of the men, that they were now practically unable to work; and
seven men, six Canadians and an Englishman, were sent back in the
best canoe to Spokane House. Only one of them reached there alive,
having been found by two Indians on the borders of the upper lake, and
by them transported to Spokane House. Now came an overland journey
on foot, where the nine remaining men were obliged to carry loads of
about ninety pounds each. The journey was very difficult, over steep
mountains, across rapid streams, and through deep snow fields. On
the 31st of May they reached two small lakes on the summit of the
mountains, at which they encamped. From these lakes a stream joins a
branch of the Columbia River, while another, called Rocky Mountain
River, empties into Peace River, and so takes its way to the Arctic
Ocean.

The next day they reached a beautiful meadow ground, where five of the
company’s horses were found grazing, and their pack saddles were placed
conspicuously near a large fire which was still burning. The animals
had been sent up from Rocky Mountain House to meet them.

The next day, in crossing the Rocky Mountain River, a series of
accidents happened, by which the first raft made was lost, and the
second got away, carrying several men with it, the result being that
the party was now separated. From this time on until they reached Rocky
Mountain House, they did not get together, and there was some suffering
from hunger and cold. Nor was their situation much better at Rocky
Mountain House, for they were unable there to obtain provisions, the
people here being themselves on short allowance. On the 7th of June
they left Rocky Mountain House, and soon entered the Athabasca River,
and followed it down until they reached Elk River, which they ascended,
and at last met Alexander Stewart and the Slave Lake brigade. From here
they proceeded eastward, down the Beaver River to Isle à la Crosse,
reached the English River, Cumberland House, and the Saskatchewan, and
thence went through Lake Winepic to Fort Alexander and by way of Rat
Portage to Rainy Lake and Fort William.

From here eastward their way led through the more or less settled
country occupied largely by Canadian farmers. The party continued
eastward, until on September 19, five months and three days after
leaving the Pacific Ocean, Cox reached Montreal, and his journeyings
were at an end.




CHAPTER XXI

THE COMMERCE OF THE PRAIRIES

I


At the end of the sixteenth and during the seventeenth century a line
of Spanish settlements ran from Mexico northward along the Rocky
Mountains, terminating in the important town of Taos. To the north,
north-east, and north-west of this town were other settlements,
occupied by the Spaniards and their descendants, and the streams and
geographical features of the country bore Spanish names--almost up to
the headwaters of the Rio Grande del Norte. North of the Arkansas there
was a change of tongue, and the names were English, or French, given
much later by American trappers who had pushed westward, or by French
Canadians and Creoles, who were early voyageurs over the plains.

Though Taos was an important place, it did not equal, either in size or
wealth, the town of Santa Fé.

The first settlements of what is now New Mexico were made about the
end of the sixteenth century, and a colony was established on the Rio
del Norte, in New Mexico. Agriculture was practised, and mines were
discovered and worked. The Spaniards, in their greed for precious
metals, made slaves of the docile Indians, and forced them to labor in
the mines, under circumstances of the greatest severity and hardship.
Almost a hundred years later, in August, 1680, this ill treatment
caused the insurrection of the Pueblos, which put an end to many a
flourishing Spanish settlement, and, temporarily, to the country’s
development. For a time the Spaniards were driven out, but it was for
a time only; a little later they returned, resubdued the country, and
by the close of the century were stronger than ever. Nevertheless,
the Pueblo revolt was not without its good effect, and during the
eighteenth century the Indians were far better treated than they had
been before.

In the year 1806, Captain Zebulon M. Pike crossed the plains and
reached the city of Santa Fé. His return told the inhabitants of the
farther west of a country beyond the plains where there were towns and
people who would purchase goods brought to them. Previous to this, a
merchant of Kaskaskia, named Morrison, had sent a French Creole named
La Lande up the Platte River, directing him to go to Santa Fé to
trade; but La Lande, though he reached that city, never returned, nor
accounted to his employer for the goods that were intrusted to him.
James Pursley, an American, was perhaps the second man to cross these
plains, and reach the Spanish settlements. When Captain Pike returned,
the news of these settlements, hitherto unknown, created a great
interest throughout the slowly advancing frontier.

Expeditions went out to Santa Fé in 1812, but the traders were
suspected by the New Mexicans of being spies, their goods were
confiscated, and they themselves imprisoned and detained for years,
some of them returning to the United States in 1821. After this, other
parties went out, and the trading which they did with the Spaniards was
successful and profitable. More and more expeditions set forth, often
manned by people who were entirely ignorant of the country through
which they were to pass, and of the hardships which they were to face.
Some of these died from starvation or thirst, or, at the very least,
suffered terribly, and often were unsuccessful, but about 1822 the
trade with Santa Fé became established. The distance from the American
settlements across the plains to Santa Fé was hardly half that from
Vera Cruz to Santa Fé, and there was great profit in the trade; but it
was not without its dangers. Indians were constantly met with, and many
of the traders did not understand how to treat them. Some traders were
robbed; others, resisting harshly and sometimes killing a savage, were
attacked, robbed of their animals, and occasionally lost a man.

Among the interesting records of the plains of these early times is
Josiah Gregg’s _Commerce of the Prairies, or the Journal of a Santa Fé
Trader, During Eight Expeditions Across the Great Western Prairies_.

Gregg, an invalid, made his first trip across the plains on the advice
of his physician. The effect of his journey was to re-establish his
health and to beget in him a passion for prairie life. He soon became
interested, as a proprietor, in the Santa Fé trade, and for eight
successive years continued to follow this business. The period covered
by his volumes is from 1831 to 1840, during which time the trade was at
its height.

The caravan with which Gregg started, set out with near a hundred
wagons, of which one-half were hauled by oxen and the remainder by
mules. The very night that they left Council Grove their cattle
stampeded, but being corralled within the circle of wagons, did not
escape.

Having a large company, it was natural that there should be among it
a number of people who were constantly seeing dangers that did not
exist. They had been out but a short time when, “Alarms now began to
accumulate more rapidly upon us. A couple of persons had a few days
before been chased to the wagons by a band of--buffalo; and this
evening the encampment was barely formed when two hunters came bolting
in with information that a hundred, perhaps of the same ‘enemy’ were
at hand--at least this was the current opinion afterward. The hubbub
occasioned by this fearful news had scarcely subsided, when another
arrived on a panting horse, crying out ‘Indians! Indians! I’ve just
escaped from a couple, who pursued me to the very camp!’ ‘To arms! to
arms!’ resounded from every quarter--and just then a wolf, attracted by
the fumes of broiling buffalo bones, sent up a most hideous howl across
the creek. ‘Some one in distress!’ was instantly shouted: ‘To his
relief!’ vociferated the crowd; and off they bolted, one and all, arms
in hand, hurly-burly, leaving the camp entirely unprotected, so that
had an enemy been at hand indeed, and approached us from the opposite
direction, they might easily have taken possession of the wagons.
Before they had returned, however, a couple of hunters came in and
laughed very heartily at the expense of the first alarmist, whom they
had just chased into the camp.”

[Illustration: CARAVAN ON THE MARCH.

From Gregg’s _Commerce of the Prairies_.]

While baseless Indian scares were common, they sometimes had genuine
frights, as in the case of a large body of Indians met on the Cimarron
River. On this occasion, “It was a genuine alarm--a tangible reality.
These warriors, however, as we soon discovered, were only the vanguard
of a ‘countless host,’ who were by this time pouring over the opposite
ridge, and galloping directly toward us.

“The wagons were soon irregularly ‘formed’ upon the hillside: but in
accordance with the habitual carelessness of caravan traders, a great
portion of the men were unprepared for the emergency. Scores of guns
were ‘empty,’ and as many more had been wetted by the recent showers,
and would not ‘go off.’ Here was one calling for balls; another for
powder; a third for flints. Exclamations, such as, ‘I’ve broken my
ramrod!’--‘I’ve spilt my caps!’--‘I’ve rammed down a ball without
powder!’--‘My gun is choked; give me yours!’--were heard from different
quarters; while a timorous ‘greenhorn’ would perhaps cry out: ‘Here,
take my gun, you can outshoot me!’ The more daring bolted off to
encounter the enemy at once, while the timid and cautious took a stand
with presented rifle behind the wagons. The Indians, who were in
advance, made a bold attempt to press upon us, which came near costing
them dearly, for some of our fiery backwoodsmen more than once had
their rusty, but unerring, rifles directed upon the intruders, some of
whom would inevitably have fallen before their deadly aim, had not some
of the more prudent traders interposed. The Indians made demonstrations
no less hostile, rushing, with ready sprung bows, upon a portion of our
men who had gone in search of water, and mischief would, perhaps, have
ensued, had not the impetuosity of the warriors been checked by the
wise men of the nation.

“The Indians were collecting around us, however, in such great
numbers, that it was deemed expedient to force them away, so as to
resume our march, or at least to take a more advantageous position.
Our company was therefore mustered and drawn up in ‘line of battle’;
and, accompanied by the sound of a drum and fife, we marched toward
the main group of the Indians. The latter seemed far more delighted
than frightened with this strange parade and music, a spectacle they
had, no doubt, never witnessed before, and perhaps looked upon the
whole movement rather as a complimentary salute than a hostile array,
for there was no interpreter through whom any communication could
be conveyed to them. But, whatever may have been their impressions,
one thing is certain--that the principal chief (who was dressed in a
long red coat of strouding, or coarse cloth) appeared to have full
confidence in the virtues of his calumet, which he lighted, and came
boldly forward to meet our war-like corps, serenely smoking the ‘pipe
of peace.’ Our captain, now taking a whiff with the savage chief,
directed him by signs to cause his warriors to retire. This most of
them did, to rejoin the long train of squaws and papooses with the
baggage, who followed in the rear, and were just then seen emerging
from beyond the hills.”

It was estimated that there were not less than two or three thousand of
these Indians, who were supposed to be Blackfeet and Gros Ventres. They
remained for some days in the neighborhood of the train, and kept the
traders on tenterhooks of anxiety, lest there should be an attack, or
a wholesale driving off of cattle. Later there were talks--or at least
friendly meeting--and giving of presents; and finally, the Indians
moved away without doing any harm. It was but a day or two later,
however, when some Comanches had a skirmish with the train, but without
evil results to either party.

It was not long after this that the train, still journeying westward,
saw evidence of their approach to the Spanish settlements. On the
5th of July, as they were proceeding after the celebration of the
day before, they met a Mexican _cibolero_, or buffalo hunter, one of
those hardy wanderers of the plains, who used to venture out from the
Spanish settlements to secure dried buffalo meat, killing buffalo and
trading with the Indians. These wanderers made long journeys, which
often extended as far as the country claimed and occupied by Crows,
Cheyennes, and Pawnees. Perfectly accustomed to the life of the
plains, armed with gun and lance, and bow and arrows, they were not
less free than the aboriginal inhabitants, whose methods in many ways
they imitated, and whose blood many of them shared. Like the Indians,
these buffalo hunters killed their game chiefly with the arrow and the
lance, and drying its flesh, packed it on their mules, or in their
ox-carts, and carried it back to the settlements to trade.

It was not very long after, that Gregg, leaving the train and pushing
ahead with others, found himself in the city of Santa Fé. He was much
impressed by the new country, inhabited by a race as different as
possible from those whom he had left in his Eastern home. He was a
close observer and records interestingly much of what he saw.

The wild tribes are described--the Navajoes, Apaches, Yutas, and
Caiguas, or Kiawas. Much is said of the raids of the Apaches and the
terror in which they kept the inhabitants of the towns, as well as the
Mexican troops stationed there to protect these inhabitants. The savage
butchery of a lot of Apaches by a troop of men, under an American
leader, may perhaps be the incident which has given rise to many
similar tales concerning the similar slaughters of the olden times.
It seems there was a celebrated Apache chief, called Juan José, whose
cunning and audacity had caused him to be feared throughout the whole
country. The government of Sonora had announced that all booty taken
from the savages under his command should be the property of those who
took it. “Accordingly, in the spring of 1837 a party of some twenty
men, composed chiefly of foreigners, spurred on by the love of gain,
and never doubting but the Indians, after so many years of successful
robberies, must be possessed of a vast amount of property, set out with
an American as their commander, who had long resided in the country.
In a few days they reached a rancheria of about fifty warriors with
their families, among whom was the famous Juan José himself, and three
other principal chiefs. On seeing the Americans advance, the former
at once gave them to understand that, if they had come to fight,
they were ready to accommodate them; but, on being assured by the
leader that they were merely bent on a trading expedition, a friendly
interview was immediately established between the parties. The American
captain having determined to put these obnoxious chiefs to death under
any circumstances, soon caused a little field-piece, which had been
concealed from the Indians, to be loaded with chain and canister shot,
and to be held in readiness for use. The warriors were then invited
to the camp to receive a present of flour, which was placed within
range of the cannon. While they were occupied in dividing the contents
of the bag, they were fired upon, and a considerable number of their
party killed on the spot! The remainder were then attacked with small
arms, and about twenty slain, including Juan José and the other chiefs.
Those who escaped became afterward their own avengers in a manner which
proved terribly disastrous to another party of Americans, who happened
at the time to be trapping on Rio Gila, not far distant. The enraged
savages resolved to take summary vengeance upon these unfortunate
trappers, and falling upon them, massacred them every one.”

It is added that: “The Apaches, previous to this date, had committed
but few depredations upon foreigners (_i. e._ Americans), restrained
either by fear or respect. Small parties of the latter were permitted
to pass the highways of the wilderness unmolested, while large caravans
of Mexicans suffered frequent attacks.”

It is generally known that the Indians of the plains regarded the
Mexicans as a different people from the dwellers of the United States,
and there was even a time when a distinction was made between the
inhabitants of the United States and those of the Republic of Texas.

The bounty on scalps, adopted by the Mexican government in 1837, was
one of the many schemes devised by the people of the borderland to
check the ravages of the Indians. By this _Proyecto de Guerra_ a series
of bounties were paid for scalps, running from one hundred dollars
for the scalp of a full-grown man, down to fifty for that of a woman,
and twenty-five for that of a little child. For a brief time this
bounty was paid, and Gregg himself saw a scalp brought in on a pole
by a Mexican officer in command of troops, precisely as the Indians,
returning from the war-path, used to bring their scalps into their home
village.

[Illustration: WAGONS PARKED FOR THE NIGHT.

From Gregg’s _Commerce of the Prairies_.]

In 1838, Gregg returned across the plains, meeting a few adventures,
among which the most important was an attack on the train by Indians,
who were supposed to be Pawnees. The effort was merely to steal their
horses, which, happily, they saved.




CHAPTER XXII

THE COMMERCE OF THE PRAIRIES

II


In 1839, after having been only a few months in the “States,” Gregg
was unable to resist his longing for the free life of the prairies and
began to make preparations for another trip to the Mexican settlements.
At that time the ports of Mexico were blockaded by French men-of-war,
and the demand for goods was great, with a prospect of correspondingly
high prices. Late in April the wagon train, loaded with twenty-five
thousand dollars’ worth of goods, crossed the Arkansas, not far from
the mouth of the Canadian fork. They had not proceeded far before
they lost a teamster; “a Cherokee shopkeeper came up to us with an
attachment for debt against a free mulatto, whom we had engaged as
teamster. The poor fellow had no alternative but to return with the
importunate creditor, who committed him at once to the care of ‘Judge
Lynch’ for trial. We ascertained afterward that he had been sentenced
to ‘take the benefit of the bankrupt law’ after the manner of the
Cherokees of that neighborhood. This is done by stripping and tying
the victim to a tree; when each creditor, with a good cowhide or
hickory switch in his hand, scores the amount of the bill due upon his
bare back. One stripe for every dollar due is the usual process of
‘whitewashing’; and as the application of the lash is accompanied by
all sorts of quaint remarks, the exhibition affords no small merriment
to those present, with the exception, no doubt, of the delinquent
himself. After the ordeal is over, the creditors declare themselves
perfectly satisfied: nor could they, as is said, ever be persuaded
thereafter to receive one red cent of the amount due, even if it were
offered to them. As the poor mulatto was also in our debt, and was
perhaps apprehensive that we might exact payment in the same currency,
he never showed himself again.”

The leaders of the party just setting out were well armed with Colt’s
repeating rifles and revolvers, and carried, besides, two small
cannon. Among the men were a number of young fellows from the East,
most of them quite without prairie experience. They had not been many
days out when one of the party, out hunting, became lost, and not
returning at night, muskets were fired to guide him to camp; but he
imagined that the firing was done by hostile Indians, and fled from
the sound. Finally, according to his statement, he was attacked during
the night by a panther, which he succeeded in beating off with the
butt of his gun. It was imagined, however, from the peculiar odor with
which the shattered gun was still redolent when he reached camp, that
the “painter” that he had driven off was not many degrees removed in
affinity from a skunk.

When the train reached the north fork of the Canadian, they met with
a considerable camp of Comanches, with whom they had some friendly
intercourse. With them was a body of United States Dragoons, under
Lieutenant Bowman, to whom had been intrusted the task of trying to
make peace with the Comanches, and so protecting the settlements of the
border. Among these Comanches were a number of Mexican captives--women,
boys, and small children--of whom Gregg notes that a number of them
were still well able to speak Spanish. In other words, their captivity
had been so short that they had a clear memory of the events of earlier
life. An effort was made to purchase several of these captives, in
order to return them to their homes. Most of them, however, were
unwilling to go, and for a variety of reasons; one of the lads, only
ten or twelve years old, explaining that by his life among the Indians
he had become “now too much of a brute to live among Christians.” One
lad Gregg did purchase, and was repaid by much gratitude.

It was near the Canadian River, which they had now reached, that a
small party of Americans experienced terrible suffering in the winter
of 1832 and ’33. “The party,” Gregg says, “consisted of twelve men,
chiefly citizens of Missouri. Their baggage and about ten thousand
dollars in specie were packed upon mules. They took the route of
the Canadian River, fearing to venture on the northern prairies at
that season of the year. Having left Santa Fé in December, they had
proceeded without accident thus far, when a large body of Comanches
and Kiawas were seen advancing toward them. Being well acquainted
with the treacherous and pusillanimous disposition of those races,
the traders prepared at once for defence; but the savages having made
a halt at some distance, began to approach one by one, or in small
parties, making a great show of friendship all the while, until most of
them had collected on the spot. Finding themselves surrounded in every
direction, the travellers now began to move on, in hopes of getting rid
of the intruders; but the latter were equally ready for the start, and,
mounting their horses, kept jogging on in the same direction. The first
act of hostility perpetrated by the Indians proved fatal to one of the
American traders named Pratt, who was shot dead while attempting to
secure two mules which had become separated from the rest. Upon this,
the companions of the slain man immediately dismounted and commenced a
fire upon the Indians, which was warmly returned, whereby another man
of the name of Mitchell was killed.

“By this time the traders had taken off their packs and piled them
around for protection; and now falling to work with their hands, they
very soon scratched out a trench deep enough to protect them from the
shot of the enemy. The latter made several desperate charges, but they
seemed too careful of their own personal safety, notwithstanding the
enormous superiority of their numbers, to venture too near the rifles
of the Americans. In a few hours all the animals of the traders were
either killed or wounded, but no personal damage was done to the
remaining ten men, with the exception of a wound in the thigh received
by one, which was not at the time considered dangerous.

“During the siege, the Americans were in great danger of perishing from
thirst, as the Indians had complete command of all the water within
reach. Starvation was not so much to be dreaded, because, in cases of
necessity, they could live on the flesh of their slain animals, some
of which lay stretched close around them. After being pent up for
thirty-six hours in this horrible hole, during which time they had
seldom ventured to raise their heads above the surface without being
shot at, they resolved to make a bold sortie in the night, as any death
was preferable to the death that awaited them there. As there was not
an animal left that was at all in a condition to travel, the owners of
the money gave permission to all to take and appropriate to themselves
whatever amount each man could safely undertake to carry. In this way
they started with a few hundred dollars, of which but little ever
reached the United States. The remainder was buried deep in the sand,
in hope that it might escape the cupidity of the savages, but to very
little purpose, for they were afterward seen by some Mexican traders
making a great display of specie, which was without doubt taken from
this unfortunate cache.

“With every prospect of being discovered, overtaken and butchered,
but resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible, they at last
emerged from their hiding-place, and moved on silently and slowly
until they found themselves beyond the purlieus of the Indian camps.
Often did they look back in the direction where three to five hundred
savages were supposed to watch their movements, but, much to their
astonishment, no one appeared to be in pursuit. The Indians, believing,
no doubt, that the property of the traders would come into their
hands, and having no amateur predilection for taking scalps at the
risk of losing their own, appeared willing enough to let the spoliated
adventurers depart without further molestation.

“The destitute travellers, having run themselves short of provisions,
and being no longer able to kill game for want of materials to
load their rifles, they were very soon reduced to the necessity
of sustaining life upon roots and the tender bark of trees. After
travelling for several days in this desperate condition, with lacerated
feet, and utter prostration of mind and body, they began to disagree
among themselves about the route to be pursued, and eventually
separated into two distinct parties. Five of these unhappy men steered
a westward course, and after a succession of sufferings and privations
which almost surpassed belief, they reached the settlements of the
Creek Indians, near the Arkansas River, where they were treated with
great kindness and hospitality. The other five wandered about in the
greatest state of distress and bewilderment, and only two finally
succeeded in getting out of the mazes of the wilderness.” Mooney,
_Kiowa Calendar_, p. 255, gives the account of this occurrence from
Kiowa sources. They say that one Indian, Black Wolf, was killed in the
fight.

After many difficulties, Gregg reached Santa Fé again, and prepared
to start south for Chihuahua, where a better market for his goods was
expected. They crossed the famous Jornada del Muerto, and reached El
Paso del Norte, and at last Chihuahua. Here was a country devoted to
cattle raising; the herds, according to Gregg, being almost as numerous
as those of the buffalo on the northern plains. Some time was devoted
to journeying through northern Mexico.

On his return to Santa Fé, Gregg, having ordered his men to “rope a
beef” for food, from the herds which covered the plains, got into
trouble with the Mexican authorities, and was greatly delayed, being
taken back to Chihuahua and tried for his offence, but acquitted on the
ground of ignorance of the laws and the customs of the country.

Shortly before they reached the Staked Plains, on their return, they
were attacked by a war-party of Pawnees on foot, who succeeded in
running off a few of the horses and in wounding two or three men. Their
Comanche guide took them safely across the plains, until at last they
reached the Canadian River. Gregg relates of the wind of the prairie:
“It will often blow a gale for days, and even weeks together, without
slacking for a moment, except occasionally at night. It is for this
reason, as well as on account of the rains, that percussion guns are
preferable upon the prairies, particularly for those who understand
their use. The winds are frequently so severe as to sweep away
both sparks and priming from a flintlock, and thus render it wholly
ineffective.”

While following down the Canadian they found buffalo very abundant,
and the gentleness and lack of suspicion of the animal is noted. “On
one occasion, two or three hunters, who were a little in advance of
the caravan, perceiving a herd quietly grazing in an open glade, they
‘crawled upon’ them after the manner of the ‘still-hunters.’ Their
first shot having brought down a fine fat cow, they slipped up behind
her, and resting their guns over her body, shot two or three others,
without occasioning any serious disturbance or surprise to their
companions; for, extraordinary as it may appear, if the buffalo neither
see nor smell the hunter, they will pay but little attention to the
crack of guns, or to the mortality which is being dealt among them.”

Gregg’s praiseworthy reflections on the wanton killing of the buffalo
are made in entire good faith, yet only a day or two later he frankly
confesses to some unnecessary killing that he did himself. He says
of the excessive destruction: “The slaughter of these animals is
frequently carried to an excess, which shows the depravity of the
human heart in very bold relief. Such is the excitement that generally
prevails at the sight of these fat denizens of the prairies, that very
few hunters appear able to refrain from shooting as long as the game
remains within reach of their rifles; nor can they ever permit a fair
shot to escape them. Whether the mere pleasure of taking life is the
incentive of these brutal excesses, I will not pretend to decide; but
one thing is very certain, that the buffalo killed on these prairies
far exceeds the wants of the travellers; or what might be looked upon
as the exigencies of rational sport.” In a foot-note he adds: “The
same barbarous propensity is observable in regard to wild horses. Most
persons appear unable to restrain this wanton inclination to take life,
when a mustang approaches within rifle shot. Many a stately steed thus
falls a victim to the cruelty of man.”

In April, 1840, Gregg reached the end of his journey--his last trip
upon the plains. He was as susceptible as other men have shown
themselves to the attractions of the free life of the prairie, its
“sovereign independence”; but acknowledges the disadvantages which
follow an almost entire separation from one’s fellow-men. Nevertheless,
“Since that time,” he says, “I have striven in vain to reconcile myself
to the even tenor of civilized life in the United States; and have
sought in its amusements and its society a substitute for those high
excitements which have attached me so strongly to prairie life. Yet
I am almost ashamed to confess that scarcely a day passes without my
experiencing a pang of regret that I am not now roving at large upon
those Western plains. Nor do I find my taste peculiar; for I have
hardly known a man who has ever become familiar with the kind of life
which I have led for so many years, that has not relinquished it with
regret.”

In his account of animals of the prairies, Gregg names first the
mustang; and here we find one of the earliest mentions of a traditional
wild horse, which has come down in many a story.

“The beauty of the mustang is proverbial,” he writes. “One in
particular has been celebrated by hunters, of which marvellous stories
are told. He has been represented as a medium-sized stallion of perfect
symmetry, milk-white, save a pair of black ears--a natural ‘pacer,’ and
so fleet, it is said, as to leave far behind every horse that had been
tried in pursuit of him, without breaking his ‘pace.’ But I infer that
this story is somewhat mythical, from the difficulty which one finds in
fixing the abiding place of its equine hero. He is familiarly known,
by common report, all over the great prairies. The trapper celebrates
him in the vicinity of the northern Rocky Mountains; the hunter on the
Arkansas or in the midst of the plains, while others have him pacing at
the rate of half a mile a minute on the borders of Texas. It is hardly
a matter of surprise, then, that a creature of such an ubiquitary
existence should never have been caught.

“The wild horses are generally well-formed, with trim and clean limbs;
still their elegance has been much exaggerated by travellers, because
they have seen them at large, abandoned to their wild and natural
gaiety. Then, it is true, they appear superb indeed; but when caught
and tamed, they generally dwindle down to ordinary ponies. Large droves
are very frequently seen upon the prairies, sometimes of hundreds
together, gambolling and curvetting within a short distance of the
caravans. It is sometimes difficult to keep them from dashing among the
loose stock of the traveller, which would be exceedingly dangerous,
for, once together, they are hard to separate again, particularly if
the number of mustangs is much the greatest. It is a singular fact,
that the gentlest wagon-horse (even though quite fagged with travel),
once among a drove of mustangs, will often acquire in a few hours all
the intractable wildness of his untamed companions.”

It is many years since the real mustang has been seen on the prairie.
To-day his place is taken by the range horse, an animal of very
different character, though of similar habits. Yet, we well recall a
time, long before the day of the range, and its cattle or horses, when
journeying through the southern country, little bands of mustangs could
sometimes be seen. One such, which passed once close to our command,
was noticeable for the presence among its numbers of a gigantic mule,
which it had picked up from some travelling party, and which was now as
wild as the horses themselves.

Naturally, Gregg has much to say about the buffalo, and he voices
an impression which long had currency, and may still be believed by
people, that the bulls were sentinels and guards for the cows and
calves. Speaking in general terms, he says: “A buffalo cow is about as
heavy as a common ox, while a large fat bull will weigh perhaps double
as much.

“These are very gregarious animals. At some seasons, however, the cows
rather incline to keep to themselves; at other times they are mostly
seen in the centre of the gang, while the bulls are scattered around,
frequently to a considerable distance, evidently guarding the cows and
calves. And on the outskirts of the buffalo range, we are apt to meet
with small gangs of bulls alone, a day or two’s travel distant, as
though performing the office of ‘pique guards’ for the main herds.”

In his remarks about the gray wolf and its habits, he touches on the
question as to whether the big wolf of America ever voluntarily attacks
man. He says: “I have never known these animals, rapacious as they
are, extend their attacks to man, though they probably would, if very
hungry, and a favorable opportunity presented itself. I shall not soon
forget an adventure with one of them, many years ago, on the frontier
of Missouri. Riding near the prairie border, I perceived one of the
largest and fiercest of the gray species, which had just descended from
the west, and seemed famished to desperation. I at once prepared for
a chase and, being without arms, I caught up a cudgel, when I betook
me valiantly to the charge, much stronger, as I soon discovered, in my
cause than in my equipment. The wolf was in no humor to flee, however,
but boldly met me the full half-way. I was soon disarmed, for my club
broke upon the animal’s head. He then ‘laid to’ my horse’s legs, which,
not relishing the conflict, gave a plunge and sent me whirling over his
head, and made his escape, leaving me and the wolf at close quarters.
I was no sooner upon my feet than my antagonist renewed the charge;
but, being without weapon, or any means of awakening an emotion of
terror, save through his imagination, I took off my large black hat,
and using it for a shield, began to thrust it toward his gaping jaws.
My ruse had the desired effect, for, after springing at me a few times,
he wheeled about and trotted off several paces, and stopped to gaze at
me. Being apprehensive that he might change his mind and return to the
attack, and conscious that, under the compromise, I had the best of the
bargain, I very resolutely took to my heels, glad of the opportunity of
making a draw game, though I had myself given the challenge.”

Gregg devotes considerable space to a discussion of the aborigines of
America, and among these he mentions most of the prairie tribes. He
speaks at some length of what we now call the civilized tribes--that is
to say, the Cherokees, Creeks, Choctaws, Chickasaws, and Seminoles. He
notes the dreadful evil that liquor has created among the Indians, and
gives, at the same time, a somewhat amusing account of the Legislative
Council among the Choctaws, where whiskey was banished from the nation:
“Many and long were the speeches which were made, and much enthusiasm
was created against the monster ‘whiskey,’ and all his brood of
compound enormities. Still every one seemed loth to move his arrest and
execution. Finally, a captain of more than ordinary temerity arose,
and offered a resolution that each and every individual who should
thenceforth dare to introduce any of the liquid curse into their
country, should be punished with a hundred lashes on his bare back, and
the liquor be poured out. This was passed, after some slight changes,
by acclamation; but, with a due sense of the injustice of ex-post-facto
restrictions, all those who had liquors on hand were permitted to sell
them. The council adjourned; but the members soon began to canvass
among each other the pernicious consequences which might result from
the protracted use of the whiskey already in the shops, and therefore
concluded the quicker it was drank up the more promptly would the evil
be over: so, falling to, in less than two hours Bacchus never mustered
a drunker troop than were these same temperance legislators. The
consequences of their determination were of lasting importance to them.
The law, with some slight improvements, has ever since been rigorously
enforced.”

It is interesting to note that the Comanches, while bitterly at war
with the Mexicans and the Texans, for very many years, nevertheless,
cultivated peace with the New Mexicans, “not only because the poverty
of the country offers fewer inducements for their inroads, but because
it is desirable, as with the interior Mexican tribes, to retain some
friendly point with which to keep an amicable intercourse and traffic.
Parties of them have therefore sometimes entered the settlements of
New Mexico for trading purposes; while every season numerous bands of
New Mexicans, known as Comancheros, supplied with arms, ammunition,
trinkets, provisions, and other necessaries, launch upon the prairies
to barter for mules, and the different fruits of their ravages upon the
south.”

Gregg’s history of these first beginnings of the westward commerce of
the United States is a most valuable and interesting repository of the
facts of the period. It purports to be only a diary of a trader, but
actually it is history.




CHAPTER XXIII

SAMUEL PARKER


In the year 1838 there was published in Ithaca, N. Y., by the author,
the _Journal of an Exploring Tour Beyond the Rocky Mountains, Under the
Direction of the A. B. C. F. M., Performed in the Years 1835, ’36, and
’37; Containing a Description of the Geography, Geology, Climate, and
Productions; and the Number, Manners, and Customs of the Natives. With
a Map of Oregon Territory._ By Rev. Samuel Parker, A.M.

As may be imagined from this title, Mr. Parker was a missionary whose
business in setting out into the wild West was to spread the Gospel.
The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions sent him out
to ascertain by personal observation the condition and character of
the Indian nations and tribes, and the opportunities for introducing
the Gospel and civilization among them. He writes in a more or
less ponderous style, and his mind is dominated, as is natural, by
the missionary idea, to such an extent that his book at times even
has something of the flavor of some of the volumes of the _Jesuit
Relations_.

At St. Louis Mr. Parker met Dr. Marcus Whitman, appointed by the
American Board to be his associate in his western explorations, and
here the two missionaries waited for a time until the caravan which
they were to accompany should be ready to start.

Dr. Whitman’s name is so closely connected with the securing of Oregon
Territory by the United States that it is hardly necessary to speak of
him at any length.

Before leaving Liberty, Mo., the steamer on which they were travelling
broke down, and it became necessary to proceed overland, and they
reached Fort Leavenworth early in May, 1835. During the journey
Parker met with a number of men who, at various times, had had close
intercourse with the Wichitas or Pawnee Picts, Comanches, Navajoes,
and Apaches; and from all these individuals he heard accounts which
made him think well of these wild and distant tribes, and of their
adaptability to Christianity and to civilized pursuits. He was
observant, too, of the local Indians--Iowas, Sacs, and Foxes--and was
favorably impressed by all.

After reaching Council Bluffs there was a long wait before the caravan
set out on its western journey. Much is said of the Indians inhabiting
this region, Yanktons, Omahas, Poncas, and the more distant Mandans;
and some hints are given as to the mode of life of these tribes. The
party travelled up the Platte, meeting the usual difficulties and
discouragements attendant on the stormy weather in summer. Much of
the time they were drenched to the skin. Occasionally a storm of hail
would come, which scattered their animals, and much time was devoted
to gathering them again. Travelling westward, the two Campbells and
Sublette, with a few men, were met returning from the Black Hills.

The apparently fertile bottom lands of the Platte, over which they
were travelling, greatly impressed the missionary, who prophesied
concerning it as follows: “No country could be more inviting to the
farmer, with only one exception--the want of woodland. The latitude is
sufficiently high to be healthy; and as the climate grows warmer as
we travel west, until we approach the snow-topped mountains, there is
a degree of mildness not experienced east of the Alleghany Mountains.
The time will come, and probably is not far distant, when this country
will be covered with a dense population. The earth was created for the
habitation of man, and for a theatre on which God will manifest his
perfections in his moral government among his moral creatures, and
therefore the earth, according to divine prediction, shall be given to
the people of God. Although infidels may sneer, and scoffers mock, yet
God will accomplish His designs and fulfill every promise contained
in His Word. Then this amazing extent of most fertile land will not
continue to be the wandering ground of a few thousand Indians, with
only a very few acres under cultivation; nor will millions of tons
of grass grow up to rot upon the ground, or to be burned up with the
fire enkindled to sweep over the prairie, to disincumber it of its
spontaneous burden. The herds of buffalo which once fattened upon these
meadows are gone; and the deer which once cropped the grass have
disappeared; and the antelopes have fled away; and shall solitude reign
here till the end of time? No: here shall be heard the din of business,
and the church-going bell shall sound far and wide.”

Before long the travellers reached the Loup Fork, which they crossed;
and here they met a number of Pawnee Indians, who treated them with
great courtesy and kindness, and invited them to feast with them.
Reference is made here to Messrs. Dunbar and Allis, and to the
missionary work that they were doing among the Pawnees.

From the Pawnee country the party kept on up the Platte, through the
open country. Here, it seems, those Indians most feared were the
Arickaras, not the Sioux and Cheyennes, as was the case thirty years
later. At this time that tribe was said to have gone far up the south
fork of the Platte to avoid the United States dragoons, under command
of Colonel Dodge, who was pursuing them. As Parker’s party went up the
north fork of the Platte, he speaks of “their using particular caution
to be prepared for an attack of the Arickaras, should any of their war
parties be about us. Every man was required to see that his rifle was
in good order, and to have a good supply of powder and balls. We all
slept with our clothes on, so that, if called with the sentinels’ fire,
we might in less than a moment be ready for action.”

Here is a word about the animals that they saw next day as they
journeyed on:

“Saw, on the 16th, the buffalo in great numbers, and in nearer view
than previously. They are less shy than those we first found. They are
more majestic than the elk, but less beautiful. The antelopes, some of
which we have seen for several days past, are becoming very numerous.
They are rightly named, for their speed exceeds any animal I have ever
seen. Our hounds can do nothing in giving them the chase; so soon are
they left far in the rear, that they do not follow them more than ten
or twenty rods before they return, looking ashamed of their defeat. Our
hunters occasionally take some of them by coming upon them by stealth.
When they are surprised, they start forward a very small space, and
then turn, and with high-lifted heads stare for a few seconds at the
object which has alarmed them, and then, with a half whistling snuff,
bound off, seeming to be as much upon wings as upon feet. They resemble
the goat, but are far more beautiful.”

Court House Rock, Chimney Rock, and Scott’s Bluffs were duly passed.
Some very friendly Ogallallahs were met with just before they reached
the Laramie River. Their camp that night was close to the fort. Here
took place one of the days of revelry and carousing which are so
frequently noted in these old books as occurring periodically. There
were dances by the Indians, and other celebrations. Keeping on up the
Platte, they passed Independence Rock August 7th, and reached the
Sweetwater. The weather was now growing colder, and ice often made
during the night.

[Illustration: TRAPPERS ATTACKED BY INDIANS.

From an old print by A. Tait.]

On reaching Green River they came to the rendezvous of the American
Fur Company. Who was in command Parker does not tell us; but that
various well-known persons were present is certain. For example, “While
we continued in this place, Dr. Whitman was called to perform some
very important surgical operations; he extracted an iron arrow three
inches long from the back of Captain Bridger, which he had received
in a skirmish three years before with the Blackfeet Indians. It was a
difficult operation, in consequence of the arrow being hooked at the
point by striking a large bone, and a cartilaginous substance had grown
around it. The Dr. pursued the operation with great self-possession
and perseverance, and Captain Bridger manifested equal firmness. The
Indians looked on while the operation was proceeding with countenances
indicating wonder, and when they saw the arrow, expressed their
astonishment in a manner peculiar to themselves. The skill of Dr.
Whitman undoubtedly made upon them a favorable impression. He also took
another arrow from under the shoulder of one of the hunters which had
been there two years and a half.”

Here Parker consulted the Flatheads and Nez Percés, asking them if they
would be willing to receive a minister of the Gospel. They needed no
persuasion, but agreed to allow him to come to them, and so cordial was
their response, that it seemed best that Dr. Whitman should return with
the caravan, enlist some more workers, and return the next year with
another caravan, to establish a mission among these people. Dr. Whitman
at first was unwilling to leave his fellow missionary to go on alone,
but finally did so.

During another day of drunkenness a fight took place at the rendezvous.
“A hunter, who goes technically by the name of the great bully of
the mountains, mounted his horse with a loaded rifle, and challenged
any Frenchman, American, Spaniard or Dutchman to fight him in single
combat. Kit Carson, an American, told him if he wished to die, he would
accept the challenge. Shunar defied him. Carson mounted his horse, and
with a loaded pistol rushed into close contact, and both almost at the
same instant fired. Carson’s ball entered Shunar’s hand, came out at
the wrist, and passed through the arm above the elbow. Shunar’s ball
passed over the head of Carson, and while he went for another pistol,
Shunar begged that his life might be spared.”

Parker had arranged to travel on with the Flatheads. The chief of these
gave him a young man as an assistant, and Parker secured a voyageur
who understood English and Nez Percé. Parker and his Indian friends
started, August 21, in company with Bridger, whose way led in the
same direction as theirs. Bridger had about fifty men. They followed
up the stream to Jackson’s Hole, and encamped on a small stream which
the author says is one of the upper branches of the Columbia River. He
says something about the difficulties of travel and the narrow passages
which it was necessary to traverse, and which he calls “kenyans.” This
term is found more or less frequently in these old books by persons
who seem to have written it down only from hearing the word spoken.
Near Jackson’s Hole he climbed one of the high mountains, and was
greatly impressed by what he saw. One day while travelling through the
mountains “a number of buffalo, which were pursued by our Indians, came
rushing down the side of the mountain through the midst of our company.
One ran over a horse, on the back of which was a child, and threw the
child far down the descent, but it providentially was not materially
injured. Another ran over a packed horse and wounded it deeply in the
shoulders.”

Mr. Parker evidently enjoyed the companionship of the Indians, whom
he seems to have regarded with most pleasant feelings. He says:
“The Indians are very kind to each other, and if one meets with any
disaster, the others will wait and assist him. Their horses often turn
their packs and run, plunge and kick, until they free themselves from
their burdens. Yesterday a horse turned his saddle under him upon which
a child was fastened, and started to run, but those near hovered at
once around with their horses so as to inclose the one to which the
child was attached, and it was extricated without hurt. When I saw the
condition of the child, I had no expectation that it could be saved
alive.”

A little later, still speaking of the children, he says of the Indians:
“They are so well supplied with horses that every man, woman and child
are mounted on horseback, and all they have is packed upon horses.
Small children, not more than three years old, are mounted alone, and
generally upon colts. They are lashed upon the saddle to keep them from
falling, and especially when they go asleep, which they often do when
they become fatigued. Then they recline upon the horse’s shoulders;
and when they awake, they lay hold of their whip, which is fastened
to the wrist of their right hand, and apply it smartly to their
horses; and it is astonishing to see how these little creatures will
guide and run them. Children which are still younger are put into an
encasement made with a board at the back, and a wicker-work around the
other parts, covered with cloth inside and without, or more generally
with dressed skins; and they are carried upon the mother’s back, or
suspended from a high nob upon the fore part of their saddles.”

Still moving westward, early in September they met a band of Nez
Percés. They came to Parker’s camp about the middle of the day, “the
principal chief marching in front with his aid, carrying an American
flag by his side. They all sung a march, while a few beat a sort of
drum. As they drew near, they displayed columns, and made quite an
imposing appearance. The women and children followed in the rear.”

The next day’s diary is devoted almost entirely to an account of
missionary work, in which the author gives an extract of the various
sermons that he preached to the Indians, who received his teachings
with great patience and interest. By this time the party was out
of provisions, and all were getting hungry, but no game was seen.
However, on September 9, buffalo were viewed, and preparations were
made to chase them. All the best hunters chose their swiftest horses,
and seeing that their arms were in good order, made ready for the
run; while Parker did what he could by lifting up “my heart in prayer
to God, that He would give them judgment, skill and success. They
advanced toward the herd of buffalo with great caution, lest they
should frighten them before they should make a near approach; and also
to reserve the power of their horses for the chase when it should be
necessary to bring it into full requisition. When the buffalo took the
alarm and fled, the rush was made, each Indian selecting for himself a
cow with which he happened to come into the nearest contact. All were
in swift motion scouring the valley; a cloud of dust began to arise,
firing of guns and shooting of arrows followed in close succession;
soon here and there buffalo were seen prostrated, and the women, who
followed close in the rear, began the work of securing the valuable
acquisition, and the men were away again in pursuit of the fleeing
herd. Those in the chase when as near as two rods shoot and wheel,
expecting the wounded animal to turn upon them. The horses appeared
to understand the way to avoid danger. As soon as the wounded animal
flies again, the chase is renewed, and such is the alternate wheeling
and chasing until the buffalo sinks beneath its wounds. They obtained
between fifty and sixty, which was a signal mercy.”

Not long after this, the Nez Percés and Flatheads left them, wishing
to remain in the buffalo range to secure their winter’s meat. Before
going away, however, they presented Parker with twenty tongues and a
large quantity of dried meat. About a hundred and fifty of the Indians
kept on down Salmon River with the missionaries; and not long afterward
they had a tremendous Indian scare, supposing that they were about to
be attacked by the Blackfeet. A little investigation, however, showed
that what had been seen were buffalo, and not Blackfeet, and food again
became plenty in the camp.

Parker appears to have been a man of considerable attainments. He
remarks upon the geology of the region he passes through; enumerates
the birds and mammals which he sees, and has much to say about the
habits and characteristics of the Indians; and interspersed through
all are frequent references to the Deity, His wishes and purposes as
interpreted by the missionary, together with earnest aspirations for
the spread of the Gospel among the red people.

Walla Walla was reached early in October, and there, at the post of the
Hudson’s Bay Company, Parker was received by Mr. Pambrun with great
hospitality. For this the guest was very grateful, and he says many
good words concerning the kindly people and the company which they
represented; words which are not only good but true.

After a day or two of rest at Walla Walla, the missionary started down
the river in a canoe with three Walla Walla Indians, and before long
stopped at a camp of Cayuse Indians, with whom, however, he was unable
to communicate. He noticed that all along the river as he passed,
the Indians, though of different tribes, seemed to be on good terms
with one another, a condition which was inevitable from the fact that
all these Indians drew their support from the river, to which they
resorted for salmon, and coming there for provisions, could not have
afforded to fight, even had they wished to.

At the Dalles, Parker met Captain Wyeth, from Boston, with whom, it
will be remembered, Townsend and Nuttall had journeyed westward the
year before. A little above the Cascades he met the first Chenooks,
which he denominates “the only real Flatheads and Nez Percés, or
pierced noses, I have found. They flatten their heads and pierce their
noses. The flattening of their heads is not so great a deformity as is
generally supposed. From a little above the eyes to the apex or crown
of the head there is a depression, but not generally in adult persons
very noticeable. The piercing of the nose is more of a deformity,
and is done by inserting two small tapering white shells, about two
inches long, somewhat in the shape of a thorn, through the lower part
of the cartilaginous division of the nose.” While following the trail
along the river, he came to a pleasant rise of ground, upon which
were several houses of a forsaken village, which were both larger and
far better than any he had hitherto seen in any Indian country. They
were about sixty feet long and thirty-five wide, the frame work very
well constructed, and covered with split planks and cedar bark. These
houses thus greatly resemble those seen in recent times on the coast
of portions of British Columbia. The next day Mr. Parker reached Fort
Vancouver, the Hudson’s Bay post, where Dr. J. McLaughlin, a chief
factor of the company, received him very kindly. From here Parker
went on down the river, and reached the brig “May Dacre,” of Boston,
belonging to the Wyeth Company. Here he met Dr. Townsend, and before
long they set sail down the river, and reached Astoria, the far-famed
New York of the West.

The Indians of the country beyond the Continental Divide through which
Parker passed, he divides into those of the plains, which live in the
upper country from the falls of the Columbia to the Rocky Mountains,
and those of the lower country, between the shores of the Pacific and
the falls of the Columbia River. He observes that the first of these
divisions are remarkable for their cleanliness; that they are well
supplied with horses, which are very cheap, a good horse selling for
not more than enough to purchase a blanket or a few small articles
of merchandise. As to their habits, he declares that the Indians of
the plains are not lazy, as they are commonly supposed to be, for he
rarely saw any of those Indians without their being engaged in some
pursuit. To him the Indians appeared as they since have to others--not
especially different from other people. They have the same natural
propensities, and the same social affections. “They are cheerful and
often gay, sociable, kind and affectionate; and anxious to receive
instruction in whatever may conduce to their happiness here or
hereafter.” They have but few manufactures, and those are the most
plain and simple.

He calls attention to the fact that these Indians have no wars among
themselves, and appear averse to all wars, not entering into battle
except in self-defence. Their only enemies are the Blackfoot Indians,
whose country is along the east border of the Rocky Mountains, and
who are constantly roaming about in parties on both sides of the
mountains in quest of plunder. When the Indians on the West side meet
with these war parties they endeavor to avoid an encounter, but if
compelled to fight, “show a firm, undaunted, unconquerable spirit, and
rush upon their enemies with the greatest impetuosity.” When an enemy
is discovered, every horse is driven into camp, and the women take
charge of them, while every man seizes his weapons, mounts his horse,
and waits, firm and undismayed, to see if hostilities must ensue. Very
frequently when the Blackfeet see white men with the Nez Percés and
Flatheads, they decline battle, even though they themselves may be far
superior in numbers, for they know that the white man can furnish a
large supply of ammunition on such occasions. The Nez Percé or Flathead
chief will accept the pipe, explaining as he does so that he knows the
Blackfeet mean war, although they pretend peace.

The Indians were great gamblers, especially at running horses and in
foot-races. Drunkenness was a vice as yet strange to these Indians, but
Parker predicted that it would come to them so soon as it was possible
to transport liquor to them. He describes the method of doctoring by a
medicine man, and the practice of the sudatory or sweat bath. All this
is of the plains Indians.

Those of the lower country are of less attractive type than the others.
As their subsistence depends almost entirely on fish, they are less
well clad, for they have not the same opportunity to obtain skins as
the people of the buffalo country. Liquor had been brought into the
lower country, and the Indians were slaves to it.

These Indians believe in the immortality of the soul, and that in
the future state we shall have the same wants as in this life. Thus,
in 1829, the wife of an influential chief of the Chenooks, near Cape
Disappointment, killed two female slaves, which should attend her child
to the world of spirits, and especially should row her canoe to the
Happy Hunting Ground in the South.

As the wealth of the upper Indians is estimated in their horses, so
those of the lower country count their property by the number of their
wives, slaves, and canoes. Special attention is called to the excellent
canoes which they make, and also to the baskets woven so closely as to
hold water, and to be used for pails. Of course, they were also used as
pots in which to cook fish and mush.

After having spent the winter on the Columbia, Parker set out in May
to revisit the Nez Percés. He reached them in a short time, and, as it
happened, came to a village just as a little child was being buried.
The Indians had prepared a cross to be set up at the grave, very likely
having been taught to do so by some Iroquois Indians, of whom there
were not a few trapping in the country; and here appears the bigotry of
the missionary of that, and indeed of later days as well, for Parker
says: “But as I viewed a cross of wood made by men’s hands, of no
avail to benefit either the dead or the living, and far more likely
to operate as a salve to a guilty conscience, or a stepping stone to
idolatry, than to be understood in its spiritual sense to refer to the
crucifixion of our sins, I took this, which the Indians had prepared,
and broke it to pieces. I then told them we place a stone at the head
and foot of the grave only to mark the place; and without a murmur they
cheerfully acquiesced, and adopted our custom.”

Parker appears to have regarded the Nez Percé Indians as especially
adapted to conversion, and laments that he is unable to speak their
language, and thus to communicate with them directly. Parker was an
active and conscientious person, and evidently wished to see all he
could of the country to which he had been sent. He set out from the
Nez Percés for the Colville country, meeting Spokanes, Cayuses, Cœur
d’Alenes, and a number of other small tribes. Returning, he was unable
to get transportation down the Columbia River, and was obliged to take
horses for Fort Okanagan. The journey was long and very dry, and the
party suffered more of less from thirst. At Fort Okanagan he took a
boat to run down the river four hundred miles to Walla Walla, which he
reached in safety. Toward the end of June he took ship for the Sandwich
Islands, and in December, 1836, sailed on board the “Phœnix” for his
home in the East. After a stormy passage he reached New London, May 18,
and five days later, after two years and two months of absence, and
journeyings which covered twenty-eight thousand miles, arrived at his
home at Ithaca, N. Y.




CHAPTER XXIV

THOMAS J. FARNHAM

I


A curious little book, the title-page of which bears the date 1841,
is Thomas J. Farnham’s, _Travels in the Great Western Prairies, The
Anahuac and Rocky Mountains, And in The Oregon Territory_. It was
published in Poughkeepsie, N. Y., by Killey & Lossing, printers. It
contains nearly two hundred pages, and is printed in very fine type,
and on thin paper, with small margins; so that in fact it looks more
like a tract than a volume. Yet it contains about a hundred and twenty
thousand words.

Its title indicates the character of the book. It is the narrative
of a journey made in order to obtain “a view of the Great Prairie
Wilderness, the Rocky Mountains, and the sweet vales of the Oregon
Territory.”

Farnham was one of a party of fourteen men who left Peoria, Ill.,
on the first day of May, 1839. The company was followed by a wagon
containing their provisions, ammunition, and other baggage, and each
man carried “a rifle swung at his back; a powder horn, bullet pouch and
long knife at his side.”

[Illustration: TRAIN STAMPEDED BY WILD HORSES.

From Bartlett’s _Texas, New Mexico, California_, etc.]

Their way westward was marked by no adventure, except the usual ones of
travel on the prairie; but at Quincy the author met Joe Smith, Jr., the
father of the Mormon prophet, and he interrupts his narrative to give
a somewhat extended account of Mormonism and the history of the Latter
Day Saints up to that time. From Quincy they passed on to Independence,
Mo., twenty days out from their starting point. Here the travellers
beheld a sight novel to them--the breaking of green mules to harness;
and after some time devoted to loitering about Independence, and making
preparations for their journey, they started westward in a storm.

Farnham’s party followed the track of the Santa Fé traders, and, like
others who passed over this road, they met with the Kauzaus (Kansas)
Indians, whom they saw and wondered at. Early in the trip, near the
Osage River, the members of Farnham’s company began to weary of prairie
life, and three of his best men determined to return to the “States,”
and left him. The journey continued along the Santa Fé trail, but
provisions began to grow short. Game was seen from time to time, but
none was killed. Continual storms drenched them, wet their packs and
their ropes, and made life more or less of a burden to them. At last,
however, in the latter half of June, they came to the buffalo range,
overtaking there a party of Santa Fé traders.

Buffalo now began to be found, and the party killed their first one,
“a noble bull; a mountain of flesh weighing at least three thousand
pounds.” This relieved their necessities, but they were anxious,
because of the prospect of soon meeting Indians--Caws, Pawnees, or
Comanches, or all three. And now, to make things worse, one of the
men of the party accidentally shot himself with his own rifle. For a
day or two he was carried in one of the wagons belonging to the Santa
Fé caravan, but presently Farnham’s party turned off from this trail,
and then the wounded man was obliged either to ride a horse or travel
in a litter. Experiment soon showed, however, that the last method of
travelling was impracticable, and it was necessary for the man to ride.
His wound became inflamed and painful, but the constant care of the
author made life much easier for the wounded man. “June 23, the buffalo
were more numerous than ever. They were ranged in long lines from the
eastern to the western horizon. The bulls were forty or fifty yards in
advance of the bands of cows, to which they severally intended to give
protection. And as the moving embankment of wagons, led by an advanced
guard, and flanked by horsemen riding slowly from front to rear, and
guarded in the rear by men, made its majestic way along, these fiery
cavaliers would march each to his own band of dames and misses, with
an air that seemed to say, ‘we are here’; and then back again to
their lines, with great apparent satisfaction, that they were able
to do battle for their sweet ones and their native plains.” Farnham
says that during three days they passed over a country so completely
covered by buffalo that it appeared oftentimes dangerous even for the
immense cavalcade of the Santa Fé traders to attempt to break its
way through them. He figures that they travelled over one thousand
three hundred and fifty square miles of territory so thickly covered
with buffalo that, when viewed from a height, it scarcely afforded a
sight of a square league of its surface. Soon after this, disaffection
showed itself in the ranks of Farnham’s company, and it was proposed to
abandon the wounded man, the mutineers declaring that he would die in
any event, and that it was not worth while to delay the whole party to
await that event.

Now, too, a jealousy as to the command arose. There was a bully who
determined to frighten Farnham into abdicating the leadership of the
party in his favor.

At last they reached Fort William, or Bent’s Fort, on the Arkansas, and
on account of the differences which had sprung up within the party, it
was decided to disband here. The property owned in common was to be
divided up among the members of the expedition, and they were to go
their several ways. As it turned out, Farnham and a few others went on
together.

“Fort William,” he says, “is owned by three brothers by the name of
Bent, from St. Louis. Two of them were at the post when we arrived
there. They seemed to be thoroughly initiated into Indian life;
dressed like chiefs; in moccasins, thoroughly garnished with beads
and porcupine quills; in trousers of deer-skin, with long fringes of
the same extending along the outer seam from the ankle to the hip; in
the splendid hunting shirt of the same material, with sleeves fringed
on the elbow-seam from the wrist to the shoulder, and ornamented
with figures of porcupine quills of various colors, and leathern
fringe around the lower edge of the body. And chiefs they were in the
authority exercised in their wild and lonely fortress.”

The country in which the fort was situated was then the common
hunting-ground of several buffalo tribes, unfriendly alike to one
another and the whites. The Utaws and Cheyennes, the Pawnees and the
Comanches gathered here in summer to hunt the buffalo; and thus, in
the neighborhood of the post, there might be from fifteen to twenty
thousand savages, “ready and panting for plunder and blood.” If the
Indians engaged in fighting had their own battles among themselves,
the people of Bent’s Fort felt safe; but if the Indians kept the peace
among themselves, there was great anxiety at Fort William.

“Instances of the daring intrepidity of the Comanches that occurred
just before and after my arrival here, will serve to show the hazard
and dangers of which I have spoken. About the middle of June, 1839,
a band of sixty of them under cover of night crossed the river and
concealed themselves among the bushes that grow thickly on the bank
near the place where the animals of the establishment feed during
the day. No sentinel being on duty at the time, their presence was
unobserved, and when morning came the Mexican horse guard mounted
his horse, and with the noise and shouting usual with that class of
servants when so employed, rushed his charge out of the fort; and
riding rapidly from side to side of the rear of the band, urged them
on, and soon had them nibbling the short dry grass in the little vale
within grape-shot distance of the guns of the bastions. It is customary
for a guard of animals about these trading posts to take his station
beyond his charge; and if they stray from each other, or attempt to
stroll too far, he drives them together, and thus keeps them in the
best possible situation to be driven hastily to the corral, should the
Indians, or other evil persons, swoop down upon them. And as there is
constant danger of this, his horse is held by a long rope, and grazes
around him, that he may be mounted quickly at the first alarm for a
retreat within the walls. The faithful guard at Bent’s, on the morning
of the disaster I am relating, had dismounted after driving out his
animals, and sat upon the ground watching with the greatest fidelity
for every call of duty; when these fifty or sixty Indians sprang from
their hiding places, ran upon the animals, yelling horribly, and
attempted to drive them across the river. The guard, however, nothing
daunted, mounted quickly, and drove his horse at full speed among them.
The mules and horses hearing his voice amidst the frightening yells of
the savages, immediately started at a lively pace for the fort; but the
Indians were on all sides and bewildered them. The guard still pressed
them onward and called for help: and on they rushed, despite the
efforts of the Indians to the contrary. The battlements were covered
with men. They shouted encouragement to the brave guard--‘Onward!
onward!’ and the injunction was obeyed. He spurred his horse to his
greatest speed from side to side, and whipped the hindermost of the
band with his leading rope. He had saved every animal; he was within
twenty yards of the open gate; he fell; three arrows from the bows of
the Comanches had cloven his heart. And relieved of him, the lords of
the quiver gathered their prey, and drove them to the borders of Texas,
without injury to life or limb. I saw this faithful guard’s grave. He
had been buried a few days. The wolves had been digging into it. Thus
forty or fifty mules and horses and their best servant’s life, were
lost to the Messrs. Bent in a single day. I have been informed also
that those horses and mules, which my company had taken great pleasure
in recovering for them in the plains, were also stolen in a similar
manner soon after my departure from the post; and that the gentlemen
owners were in hourly expectation of an attack upon the fort itself.”

It was midsummer when Farnham left Fort William, with four companions,
for Oregon Territory. He stopped at Fort El Puebla, five miles above
Bent’s Fort, and here met a number of trappers. One of these greatly
impressed him, a man from New Hampshire. “He had been educated at
Dartmouth College, and was, altogether, one of the most remarkable
men I ever knew. A splendid gentleman, a finished scholar, a critic
on English and Roman literature, a politician, a trapper, an Indian.”
Dressed in a deer-skin frock, leggings and moccasins; there was not a
shred of cloth about his person. Stiff, cold, and formal at first, he
thawed as their acquaintance grew, and gave Farnham glimpses into his
nature which greatly interested the traveller. There were other men
among these trappers, who told the author tales of adventure which he
gladly set down, and which are well worth reproducing did space permit.
Here Farnham traded for additional horses, and before long they set out
to cross the mountains.

Led by a trapper named Kelly, who was familiar with the country
through which they were to go, the party followed up the Arkansas, and
at last entered the Rocky Mountains. Before they had gone very far
their way seemed barred by mountains impracticable for pack-horses;
yet their guides, after considering the way, marched straight onward
over mountains of which some notion may be had from the following
description: “The upper half, though less steep, proved to be the worst
part of the ascent. It was a bed of rocks, at one place small and
rolling, at another large and fixed, with deep openings between them.
So that our animals were almost constantly falling, and tottering upon
the brink of the cliffs, as they rose again and made their way among
them. An hour and a half of this most dangerous and tiresome clambering
deposited us in a grove of yellow pines near the summit. Our animals
were covered with sweat and dirt, and trembled as if at that instant
from the race track. Nor were their masters free from every ill of
weariness. Our knees smote each other with fatigue, as Belshazzar’s
did with fear. Many of the pines on this ridge were two feet in
diameter, and a hundred feet high, with small clusters of limbs around
the tops. Others were low, and clothed with strong limbs quite near
the ground. Under a number of these latter we had seated ourselves,
holding the reins of our riding horses, when a storm arose with the
rapidity of a whirlwind, and poured upon us hail and rain and snow with
all imaginable liberality. A most remarkable tempest was this.... One
portion of it had gathered its electricity and mist around James’ Peak
in the east; another among the white heights northwest; and a third
among the snowy pyramids of the Utaws in the southwest; and marshalling
their hosts, met over this connecting ridge between the eastern and
central ranges, as if by general battle to settle a vexed question
as to the better right to the pass; and it was sublimely fought. The
opposing storms met nearly at the zenith, and fiercely rolled together
their angry masses. And as if to carry out the simile I have here
attempted, at the moment of their junction, the electricity of each
leaped upon its antagonist transversely across the heavens, and in some
instances fell in immense bolts upon the trembling cliffs; and then
instantly came a volley of hail as grape-shot, sufficient to whiten all
the towers of this horrid war. It lasted an hour.”

After the tempest had ceased they clambered to the summit--whence they
had a marvellous view of the Great Main snowy range of the “Rocky,”
“Stony” or “Shining” mountains--then, clambering down on the other
side, they camped not far below, on the headwaters of the Platte River,
in what is now North Park, Colorado. Food was scarce, and nothing had
been killed since they left Fort William; but when they came in sight
of the Bayou Salade, Kelly promised them that before long they would
have meat; and sure enough, during the day a buffalo was seen, killed
by the guide, and greedily devoured. A hearty meal of its flesh;
tongue, fat ribs, tenderloin, marrow-bones, and blood-pudding were all
enjoyed, and the party ate almost the whole night long.




CHAPTER XXV

THOMAS J. FARNHAM

II


They were now in the country of the Utes, or rather, in the debatable
land visited for hunting purposes by Utes, Cheyennes, Arapahoes,
Shoshoni, Blackfeet, and Crows. They therefore travelled with some
care, put out their fires at night, looked to their arms, and prepared
to meet the foe. No Indians were seen, however; but another misfortune
visited them in the loss of one of the guide’s horses, poisoned by some
food that it had eaten.

As they journeyed on, food again became scarce, and the travel was so
difficult that they had no time to hunt, and suffered from hunger. On
the Little Bear River they met a party of four French Canadians, who
a few days before had been attacked by a Sioux war party on Little
Snake River [of Colorado]. Here again attention is called to the
difference in character of the French and the American trappers. The
former are mercurial, volatile, and always merry, cheering themselves
on their journeys with song; while the American trapper is watchfulness
personified, and his concentration in this direction destroys all
frivolity. “They seldom smile; the expression of their countenances
is watchful, solemn and determined. They ride and walk like men whose
breasts have so long been exposed to the bullet and arrow, that fear
finds within them no resting place. If a horseman is descried in the
distance, they put spurs to their animals and are at his side at once,
as the result may be for death or life. No delay, no second thought,
no cringing in their stirrups; but erect, firm, and with a strong arm,
they seize and overcome every danger ‘or perish,’ say they, ‘as white
men should,’ fighting promptly and bravely.”

On parting next day--August 5--with the French and American trappers,
two of Farnham’s party left him. Farnham notes the kindness and
free-handedness of the trappers. He had given them a little ammunition,
and they sought to repay the kindness by presenting him and his party
with moccasins, dressed deer and elk skins, and other articles.
“Everything, even their hunting shirts upon their backs, were at our
service; always kindly remarking when they made an offer of such
things, that ‘the country was filled with skins, and they could get
a supply when they should need them,’” It was this same day that a
man, pursuing some bears, found among the brush a prize--an excellent
pack-mule, feeding quietly, and so tame as to permit him to approach
within ten yards of it without even raising its head. The man prepared
to catch it, when suddenly the mule “most wonderfully, most cruelly,
metamorphosed itself into an elk!--fat as marrow itself, and sufficient
in weight to have fed our company for twelve days--and fled away,”
the man who had prepared to catch it being too astonished to shoot at
it. This was unlucky, for now they had no food. Game was seen several
times, but none was killed. The next day, however, a family of bears
was seen, and two cubs secured. They weighed about twelve pounds
apiece, and made for the party, as the author expresses it, “a filthy
supper.” They were trying to reach Brown’s Hole, but progress was slow.
For forty-eight hours after the finishing of the cubs they had no food;
and then, with great regret, they killed their dog, singed and ate it.
At last, after more days of hunger, they found themselves in Brown’s
Hole, and at Fort David Crockett.

Here there was food and to spare, and white men, traders, especially
one Robinson, who traded chiefly with the Snakes. This was very likely
“Uncle Jack Robinson,” who died, a very old man, at Fort Bridger about
1894. He was one of the party of trappers who found the Arapahoe baby
whom they named Friday.

In this “Happy Valley,” which, however, was not free from incursions by
the wandering enemy, the travellers spent much time, and here Farnham
puts down some things that he learned concerning the Snake, Crow,
Blackfeet, and Arapahoe Indians. He describes especially the pestilence
which visited the Blackfeet in 1828, at which time they numbered about
two thousand five hundred lodges, or families, which would perhaps mean
twelve thousand five hundred people. This enumeration may perhaps refer
to the Piegan Blackfeet alone, or to all three of the tribes of that
nation.

At that time, as in later visits of this dread disease, the Blackfeet
treatment was by the sweat lodge, followed by a plunge into icy water,
from which often the weakened victim was unable to struggle again to
the shore. At this time the Blackfoot camp, it is said, was on the
banks of the Yellowstone.

A glimpse of the estimation in which the Blackfeet were held in those
days is afforded by the reflection with which the author concludes his
description of this scourge; for he says: “But this infliction has in
no wise humanized their blood-thirsty nature. As ever before, they
wage exterminating war upon the traders and trappers, and the Oregon
Indians.”

At Brown’s Hole, Farnham met an old Snake Indian who had seen Lewis
and Clark on the headwaters of the Missouri in 1805. This man was the
first of his people who saw the exploring white man. “He appears to
have been galloping from place to place in the office of sentinel to
the Shoshoni camp, when he suddenly found himself in the very presence
of the whites. Astonishment fixed him to the spot. Men with faces pale
as ashes had never been seen by himself or his nation. ‘The head rose
high and round, the top flat; it jutted over the eyes in a thin rim;
their skin was loose and flowing, and of various colors.’ His fears at
length overcoming his curiosity, he fled in the direction of the Indian
encampment. But being seen by the whites they pursued and brought him
to their camp; exhibited to him the effects of their firearms, loaded
him with presents, and let him go. Having arrived among his own people,
he told them he had seen men with faces pale as ashes, who were makers
of thunder, lightning, etc. This information astounded the whole tribe.
They had lived many years, and their ancestors had lived many more, and
there were many legends which spoke of many wonderful things; but a
tale like this they had never heard. A council was therefore assembled
to consider the matter. The man of strange words was summoned before
it; and he rehearsed, in substance, what he had before told to others,
but was not believed. ‘All men were red, and therefore he could not
have seen men as pale as ashes. The Great Spirit made the thunder and
lightning; he therefore could not have seen men of any color that could
produce them. He had seen nothing; he had lied to his chief, and should
die.’ At this stage of the proceedings, the culprit produced some of
the presents which he had received from the pale men. These being quite
as new to them as pale faces were, it was determined ‘that he should
have the privilege of leading his judges to the place where he declared
he had seen these strange people; and if such were found there, he
should be exculpated; if not, these presents were to be considered as
conclusive evidence against him, that he dealt with evil spirits, and
that he was worthy of death by the arrows of his kinfolks.’ The pale
men--the thunder makers--were found, and were witnesses of the poor
fellow’s story. He was released, and has ever since been much honored
and loved by his tribe, and every white man in the mountains. He is
now about eighty years old, and poor. But as he is always about Fort
David Crockett, he is never permitted to want.”

At Brown’s Hole arrived Paul Richardson, who was returning from the
borders of Oregon to St. Louis. He had guided some missionaries and
others, from the Western States to that unknown region, and among them
a man whose purpose it was to conquer the territory of California. The
missionaries were Messrs. Munger and Griffith, and their wives were
with them. Influenced by Richardson’s story, which was very unfavorable
to Oregon as a place of residence, two of Farnham’s men determined to
return to the Mississippi Valley. This left him only Blair, an old
man, and the useless person whose life he had saved, as companions for
the long journey before him. The event was disheartening. Farnham,
however, was a man of determination, and was not to be turned from
his purpose of striving, at least, to reach the mouth of the Colorado
River that season. He therefore engaged a Snake Indian to pilot him to
Fort Hall, about two hundred miles distant; the compensation offered
for the service being fifty loads of ammunition, and three bunches
of beads. One of the melancholy things of continuing the journey was
the necessity of parting with Kelly, the trapper who had bravely and
effectively guided them from Fort William to Brown’s Hole. When the
last farewells were said, they started off, following the Green River,
which here is called Sheetskadee; and on a tributary of this stream,
a day or two later, Farnham lost his Pueblo mare--a prairie, and not
a mountain, horse--which, after escaping many dangers in climbing the
rough mountains to the eastward, at last fell over a cliff about six
hundred feet high and was killed.

When starting out from Fort David Crockett, they had been ill supplied
with food, of which a considerable part was dog meat, but Jim, the
Indian guide, occasionally killed an antelope, which kept the party
from suffering. While still travelling up the river, they met a free
trapper, named Madison Gordon, who told them the usual story of few
beaver, and little game; and he declared that he purposed to move West,
and to begin farming in the valley of the Willamette, which he averred
was the purpose also of a large number of his fellow trappers. One
morning, as they were packing, the guide detected in the distance, down
the river, people coming. Who these might be they did not know. They
had visions of war parties of Crows, Sioux, and Blackfeet, and prepared
for the attack; put new caps on their rifles, mounted, and took up a
favorable position. But before long their guide rode out from behind
their brush-wood camp and hurried his horse toward the stranger. This
man proved to be the celebrated bear killer, Meek--perhaps the man
whose story is told in a book entitled, _The River of the West_, which
gives much of the history of the early settlements on the Columbia
River. A day or two after this, food must have again become scarce
with them, for the author says, quite incidentally, “at sunset our
camp kettle was bubbling over the bones of a pelican at the ‘Steamboat
Spring.’” Think of the joy of eating boiled pelican! What more nauseous
dish can be imagined. Crossing over into the valley of Bear River, they
hurried on their way, frequently made uneasy by finding the tracks of
people, and even by seeing camp fires at night, and at length reached
Fort Hall, and full meals, in which fresh buffalo tongue figured
largely.

After a short stay at Fort Hall, Farnham and his people, under the
guidance of an Indian, set out to cross the burnt plains of Snake
River. Two or three days out the party was joined by a Swiss trapper
who had been eight years in the mountains. He had been a student in a
seminary, but had deserted that training-ground for the priesthood and
had come to America and taken to the mountains.

The wormwood deserts of the Snake River were hard enough on the
travellers, but harder still on their animals, which had little to eat.
Digger Indians were sometimes met; and when they reached the Boisais
River they found Indians in considerable numbers engaged in taking
salmon for their winter provisions. They were pleasant, hospitable, and
ready to trade provisions, or even horses; and here the party renewed
their stock. It was here too that their guide left them, explaining
that now that he had come to the country of another people, it would
not be good manners to act as guide through their land. Left without
guidance in a country cut up with trails, they were obliged to depend
on themselves, but at length succeeded in hiring a number of Bonak
[Bannock] Indians to guide them to the fort, which they were now
approaching.

The fort at Boisais was as hospitable as all the others had been. This
post was built in 1832 by the Hudson’s Bay Company to counteract the
influence of Wyeth’s Fort Hall, the building of which is described
in J. K. Townsend’s sketches. At this time it was commanded by Mr.
Payette. The stay at Boisais was not long, and the travellers moved on
over a country sometimes easy to traverse, again extremely difficult.
In some places all the party walked, except the worthless Smith, who
insisted on making his unfortunate beast carry him over the roughest
ground. A few days later they reached the Columbia River, and crossing
over found themselves before the mission, in the presence of Dr.
Whitman. Mr. Munger and Mr. Hall were also there. A pretty picture is
painted of the life and work of this mission among the Skyuse Indians,
whom they were endeavoring to teach the ordinary occupations of
civilized life.

At the Dalles Farnham saw some Chinooks, and declared that they
flattened their heads more and are more stupid than any other tribe on
the Columbia.

He tells us that these Indians subsist on the acorns of the white oak
and on fish. For winter the fish is dried, and then pounded to powder
and mixed with the oil of the leaf fat of the fish, and packed away
in flag sacks; thus making a sort of fish pemmican. Although no salt
is used in this preparation, it remains good through the winter. The
acorns, gathered as soon as they fall to the ground, are buried in
sand, which is kept constantly saturated with water, where they remain
till spring. This soaking is said to remove their bitter flavor.

Passing on down the Columbia, Farnham passed various settlements and
farms, one of which belonged to Thomas McKay, son of the McKay who
figured with John Jacob Astor in the doings of the Pacific Fur Company.
McKay was building a grist mill, and it was well advanced toward
completion. The mother of McKay was a Cree or Chippewa Indian. This is
the McKay spoken of by Townsend.

It was just at this time that the British, as well as the Americans,
were beginning to take possession of Oregon, and what is now
Washington. It had long been occupied by the Hudson’s Bay Company; but,
on the other hand, many Americans had traded and settled there; and the
American settlers were urgent that they should be protected, declaring
this to be a portion of their country’s domain. The settlers held a
meeting while Farnham was there, and handed him a petition, signed by
sixty-seven citizens of the United States, and persons desirous of
becoming such, the substance of which was a description of the country,
their unprotected situation, and a prayer that the Federal Government
would extend over them the protection and institutions of the Republic.

Farnham’s original intention was to explore Oregon during the winter
then beginning, and during the following summer to return to the States
with the American fur traders. Already the rainy season had begun,
however, and it was uncertain whether the traders would return to the
States next year. That plan had to be given up. Finally he determined
to take ship from the mouth of the Columbia River either for New York
or California, as the opportunity might offer.

At Fort Vancouver he found a number of Hudson’s Bay people, with whom
the time passed very pleasantly. Then, again taking to his canoe, he
passed down to the mouth of the river, where he found the good ship
“Vancouver,” Captain Duncan; and shortly after, passing out to sea,
Farnham’s travels in the great Anahuac were ended.




CHAPTER XXVI

FREMONT

I


The inequality with which fame distributes her favors has always
been a fertile subject for moralist and philosopher. One man may do
great things, and yet through innate modesty, or ill fortune of some
sort, may make no impression on the popular imagination; so that
his deeds are soon forgotten. Another, by a series of fortunately
narrated adventures of relatively much less difficulty and danger,
may acquire the name of having accomplished great things. Zebulon M.
Pike, the explorer, was a man of the first kind. John C. Fremont,
commonly spoken of as the Pathfinder, and by many people believed
to have been the discoverer of the Rocky Mountains, belonged to the
second class. The work that Fremont did was good work, but it was
not great. He was an army officer, sent out to survey routes across
the continent; and he did his duty, and did it well; but he did not
discover the Rocky Mountains, nor did he discover gold in California,
as often supposed. He passed over routes already well known to the men
of the plains and the mountains, and discovered little that was new,
except the approximate location of many points. Nevertheless, in his
two expeditions, which cover the years 1842 and 1843, and 1844, he
traversed ten thousand miles of wilderness, between the Missouri River
and the shores of the Pacific; and he connected the surveys of the
State of Missouri with those made by the Wilkes expedition at the mouth
of the Columbia. This involved much labor and hardship, and was of high
value at the time, but it is not to be compared with the work done by
Lewis and Clark, and Pike; and the fact that Fremont gained great fame
while his predecessors seemed until recently to be almost forgotten,
seems unjust.

Fremont’s first expedition went only as far as the Rocky Mountains,
terminating at the South Pass and Fremont’s Peak. The second, which
reached those mountains by another route, crossed them at the South
Pass, and proceeded West to the Oregon River--the Columbia--and
northern California.

The story of these two journeys is embodied in a report addressed to
the Chief of the Corps of Topographical Engineers, and published in
Washington in 1845.

Although a formal report, made by an army officer, and written in
the ordinary style of an itinerary of the daily march, yet Fremont’s
account of his travels is told with much vividness; and quite apart
from the interest which attaches to it as a description of the still
unexplored West, it attracts by its graphic style. The accounts of the
hunting, encounters with Indians, and mountain climbing are spirited;
and the descriptions of wild scenery show real feeling.

[Illustration: MAJOR-GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT.]

Fremont’s party consisted of Charles Preuss, his assistant in
topography; L. Maxwell, a hunter, with Kit Carson as guide. L. Maxwell
and Kit Carson had long before this both been employed at Bent’s
old fort--Fort William. They had married sisters, daughters of Mr.
Beaubien of Taos, N. M., who a few years later was killed in the Pueblo
rising at Taos. He had over twenty Frenchmen, Creoles, and Canadian
voyageurs, old prairie men, who had been servants of the fur companies.
Among these men are such names as Lambert, L’Esperance, Lefevre,
Lajeunesse, Cadotte, Clément, Simonds, Latulippe, Badeau, Chardonnais,
and Janisse. The children and grandchildren of some, perhaps of many
of these men, are still living, at various points in the West, and
still bear the names of their ancestors. Joseph Clément, for example,
probably a son of old man Clément, lives to-day on the Standing Rock
Indian Reservation, in South Dakota. Nicholas and Antoine Jeunesse, or
Janisse, a few years ago were still alive, one at Pine Ridge, the other
at Whetstone Agency, in South Dakota. Antoine Janisse died at Pine
Ridge in 1897 and his brother Nicholas about 1905.

The expedition started on Friday, June 10, from Cyprian Chouteau’s
trading-post, near the mouth of the Kansas River, and marched up that
stream. Their baggage, instruments and provisions were carried in mule
carts, of which they had eight; and the men, except the drivers of
these carts, were mounted; and some of them drove loose horses. A few
oxen were taken along for food. They marched up the Kansas River, and
from time to time purchased milk, butter, and vegetables at Indian
farms, a condition of things which indicates that the Indians at that
time were further advanced toward civilization and self-support than
many of them seem to be at the present day. It was the practice to
encamp an hour or two before sunset, when the carts were arranged so as
to form a sort of barricade, or at least to mark the boundaries of a
circle about the camp, eighty yards in diameter.

“The tents were pitched and the horses hobbled and turned loose to
graze; and but a few minutes elapsed before the cooks of the messes,
of which there were four, were busily engaged in preparing the evening
meal.... When we had reached a part of the country where such a
precaution became necessary, the carts being regularly arranged for
defending the camp, guard was mounted at eight o’clock, consisting of
three men, who were relieved every two hours; the morning watch being
horse guard for the day. At daybreak the camp was roused, the animals
turned loose to graze, and breakfast generally over between six and
seven o’clock, when we resumed our march, making regularly a halt at
noon for one or two hours.”

During his march up the Kansas River, Fremont speaks of passing a
large but deserted Kansas village, “scattered in an open wood along
the margin of the stream, on a spot chosen with the customary Indian
fondness for beauty of scenery. The Pawnees had attacked it in the
early spring. Some of the houses were burnt, and others blackened
with smoke, and weeds were already getting possession of the cleared
places.” June 17 they crossed the Big Vermillion, and Big Blue; and
saw their first antelope; while Carson brought in a fine deer. They
were now on the trail of a party of emigrants to Oregon, and found many
articles that they had thrown away. Game began to be abundant; there
were flocks of turkeys in the bottom of the Little Blue; elk were seen
on the hills, and antelope and deer abounded. When they reached the
Pawnee country, many were the tales told of the craft and daring of
these independent people. One morning they had a genuine Indian alarm;
a man who was somewhat behind the party, rode up in haste, shouting,
“Indians! Indians!” He stated that he had seen them, and had counted
twenty-seven. The command was at once halted, and the usual precautions
made for defence, while Carson, mounting one of the hunting horses, set
out to learn the cause of the alarm. “Mounted on a fine horse, without
a saddle, and scouring bareheaded over the prairie, Kit was one of the
finest pictures of a horseman I have ever seen. A short time enabled
him to discover that the Indian war party of twenty-seven consisted of
six elk who had been gazing curiously at our caravan as it passed, and
were now scampering off at full speed. This was our first alarm, and
its excitement broke agreeably on the monotony of the day.”

The party now crossed over to the Platte River--which Fremont calls the
Nebraska--and encamped on its banks. Two days later, while they were
halted for noon, there came the startling cry, “_Du monde!_”--people.
In a moment all were prepared for defence. Horses were driven in,
hobbled and picketed, and the horsemen were galloping at full speed in
the direction of the new-comers, screaming and yelling with the wildest
excitement. The travellers proved to be a small party, under the charge
of a man named John Lee, which had left Fort Laramie two months before,
endeavoring to transport the furs of the American Fur Company down the
Platte by boat; they had started with the annual flood, but before they
had travelled one hundred and fifty miles found that their waterway
had become too shoal for their boats; they had therefore cached their
possessions, and had started east on foot, carrying on their backs
their provisions, clothing, and a few light furs. It was from among
this party that Fremont engaged Latulippe, who, though on his way to
St. Louis, really had no special desire to go there, and was quite
willing to turn about and face the West again.

The same day three Cheyennes were met, returning from an unsuccessful
horse-stealing expedition against the Pawnee village. They joined
the party, and for some days afterward travelled in its company.
On the 29th the first buffalo were seen, and on the following day
these animals swarmed “in immense numbers over the plain, where they
had left scarcely a blade of grass standing.” “We had heard from a
distance a dull and confused murmuring, and when we came in view of
their dark masses there was not one among us who did not feel his
heart beat quicker. It was the early part of the day, when the herds
are feeding, and everywhere they were in motion. Here and there a
huge old bull was rolling in the grass, and clouds of dust rose in the
air from various parts of the bands, each the scene of some obstinate
fight. Indians and buffalo make the poetry and life of the prairie,
and our camp was full of their exhilaration.” Here first they feasted
on buffalo meat. Fremont says: “At any time of the night might be
seen pieces of the most delicate and choicest meat, roasting _en
appolas_, on sticks around the fire, and the guard were never without
company. With pleasant weather and no enemy to fear, an abundance of
the most excellent meat, and no scarcity of bread or tobacco, they
were enjoying the oasis of a voyageur’s life. Three cows were killed
to-day. Kit Carson had shot one, and was continuing the chase in the
midst of another herd, when his horse fell headlong, but sprang up
and joined the flying band. Though considerably hurt, he had the good
fortune to break no bones; and Maxwell, who was mounted on a fleet
hunter, captured the runaway after a hard chase. He was on the point
of shooting him, to avoid the loss of his bridle (a handsomely mounted
Spanish one), when he found that his horse was able to come up with
him.”

The next day, July 1, Fremont himself made a chase for buffalo. He
says: “As we were riding quietly along the bank, a grand herd of
buffalo, some seven or eight hundred in number, came crowding up from
the river, where they had been to drink, and commenced crossing the
plain slowly, eating as they went. The wind was favorable; the coolness
of the morning invited to exercise, the ground was apparently good,
and the distance across the prairie (two or three miles) gave us a fine
opportunity to charge them before they could get among the river hills.
It was too fine a prospect for the chase to be lost; and, halting for a
few moments, the hunters were brought up and saddled, and Kit Carson,
Maxwell, and I started together. They were now somewhat less than half
a mile distant, and we rode easily along until within about three
hundred yards, when a sudden agitation, a wavering in the band, and
a galloping to and fro of some which were scattered along the skirts
gave us the intimation that we were discovered. We started together at
a grand gallop, riding steadily abreast of each other, and here the
interest of the chase became so engrossingly intense, that we were
sensible to nothing else. We were now closing upon them rapidly, and
the front of the mass was already in rapid motion for the hills, and in
a few seconds the movement had communicated itself to the whole herd.

“A crowd of bulls, as usual, brought up the rear, and every now and
then some of them faced about, and then dashed on after the band a
short distance, and turned and looked again, as if more than half
inclined to stand and fight. In a few moments, however, during which
we had been quickening our pace, the rout was universal, and we were
going over the ground like a hurricane. When at about thirty yards we
gave the usual shout (the hunter’s _pas de charge_), and broke into the
herd. We entered on the side, the mass giving way in every direction
in their heedless course. Many of the bulls, less active and less
fleet than the cows, paying no attention to the ground, and occupied
solely with the hunter, were precipitated to the earth with great
force, rolling over and over with the violence of the shock, and hardly
distinguishable in the dust. We separated on entering, each singling
out his game.

“My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the West under the name
of Proveau, and, with his eyes flashing, and the foam flying from
his mouth, sprang on after the cow like a tiger. In a few moments he
brought me alongside of her, and, rising in the stirrups, I fired at
the distance of a yard, the ball entering at the termination of the
long hair, and passing near the heart. She fell headlong at the report
of the gun, and, checking my horse, I looked around for my companions.
At a little distance, Kit was on the ground, engaged in tying his
horse to the horns of a cow which he was preparing to cut up. Among
the scattered bands, at some distance below, I caught a glimpse of
Maxwell; and while I was looking, a light wreath of white smoke curled
away from his gun, from which I was too far to hear the report. Nearer,
and between me and the hills, toward which they were directing their
course, was the body of the herd, and, giving my horse the rein, we
dashed after them. A thick cloud of dust hung upon their rear, which
filled my mouth and eyes, and nearly smothered me. In the midst of
this I could see nothing, and the buffalo were not distinguishable
until within thirty feet. They crowded together more densely still as I
came upon them, and rushed along in such a compact body, that I could
not obtain an entrance--the horse almost leaping upon them. In a few
moments the mass divided to the right and left, the horns clattering
with a noise heard above everything else, and my horse darted into
the opening. Five or six bulls charged on us as we dashed along the
line, but were left far behind; and, singling out a cow, I gave her my
fire, but struck too high. She gave a tremendous leap, and scoured on
swifter than before. I reined up my horse, and the band swept on like a
torrent, and left the place quiet and clear. Our chase had led us into
dangerous ground. A prairie-dog village, so thickly settled that there
were three or four holes in every twenty yards square, occupied the
whole bottom for nearly two miles in length. Looking around, I saw only
one of the hunters, nearly out of sight, and the long dark line of our
caravan crawling along, three or four miles distant.”

Continuing up the Platte River, Fremont reached the junction of the
North and South Platte, on the 2d of July. He now divided his forces,
sending one party up the North Platte to Fort Laramie, and another up
the South Platte to St. Vrain’s fort, and thence across country to a
meeting point at Fort Laramie. This last party he determined to take
charge of himself, taking Mr. Preuss, and four of his best men. The
Cheyennes, whose village was supposed to be on the South Platte, also
decided to accompany him. The party for the North Fork was to be in
charge of Clément Lambert. The separation took place July 5. The party
following up the South Platte took one led horse, and a pack-mule, and
travelled very light. The cook had been ordered to prepare provisions
for this outfit, and they started. When they stopped for noon, however,
they discovered that the provisions they supposed they were carrying,
had been left behind, and they had nothing to eat except the meat of a
poor bull that they had killed during the day. As the trip promised to
be a hard one, Fremont sent two of his men, Preuss and Bernier, across
the country to rejoin those who were travelling up the North branch of
the river.

Buffalo were abundant, and an incident of the march was a bull fight on
a large scale, which the travellers intercepted: “In the course of the
afternoon, dust rising among the hills at a particular place, attracted
our attention; and riding up, we found a band of eighteen or twenty
buffalo bulls engaged in a desperate fight. Though butting and goring
were bestowed liberally, and without distinction, yet their efforts
were evidently directed against one--a huge gaunt old bull, very lean,
while his adversaries were all fat and in good order. He appeared very
weak and had already received some wounds, and, while we were looking
on, was several times knocked down and badly hurt, and a very few
moments would have put an end to him. Of course we took the side of
the weaker party, and attacked the herd; but they were so blind with
rage, that they fought on, utterly regardless of our presence, although
on foot and on horseback we were firing in open view within twenty
yards of them. But this did not last long. In a very few seconds, we
created a commotion among them. One or two, which were knocked over
by the balls, jumped up and ran off into the hills; and they began to
retreat slowly along a broad ravine to the river, fighting furiously as
they went. By the time they had reached the bottom, we had pretty well
dispersed them, and the old bull hobbled off, to lie down somewhere.
One of his enemies remained on the ground where we had first fired upon
them, and we stopped there for a short time to cut from him some meat
for our supper.”

At length they reached the post, and were cordially received by Mr. St.
Vrain.

No provisions could be had here, except a little coffee; but the way
from here to Fort Laramie was through a country supposed to abound
in buffalo, so that there was no danger of starvation. Here Fremont
obtained a couple of horses and three mules, and he also hired a
Spaniard for his trip, and took with him two others who were going to
obtain service on the Laramie River. Crossing various streams, they
passed through a pleasant buffalo country, and crossed Lodgepole Creek,
and Horse Creek, coming to Goshen’s Hole.

The party struck the North Platte thirteen miles below Fort Laramie,
and continuing up the stream, they first came in view of Fort Platte, a
post belonging to Messrs. Sybille, Adams & Co.; and from there kept on
up to Fort John, or Fort Laramie. Mr. Preuss and his party had already
reached there, but had been much alarmed by the accounts of Indian
hostilities, received from James Bridger and a large party of traders
and trappers that he was guiding eastward.




CHAPTER XXVII

FREMONT

II


At Fort Laramie, Fremont heard much about the hostilities of the Sioux
and Cheyennes, who, the year before, had had a severe fight with a
party of sixty men, under the command of Mr. Frapp, of St. Louis.
The Indians had lost eight or ten men, and the whites half as many,
including their leader. This left the Indians in a bad frame of mind,
and many of the young men had gone off on a war-path, threatening to
kill emigrants, and, in fact, any whites passing through the country.
One or two parties had already been saved, through the efforts of
Fitzpatrick, of the Broken Hand; but the Indians were clearly in a bad
temper. A large village of Sioux was camped here, and Fremont had many
savage visitors who were very much interested in him and his curious
actions. His astronomical observations and instruments especially
excited their awe and admiration; but the chiefs were careful to
keep the younger men and the women and children from annoying the
astronomer. Here the services of Joseph Bissonette as interpreter
were secured, and the party prepared to start. Before this was done,
however, a delegation of chiefs warned Fremont not to go farther.
He, however, explained to them that he must obey his orders, and was
finally allowed to go at his own risk.

The party proceeded up the North Platte River, and the first night out
were joined by Bissonette, the interpreter, and by his Indian wife and
a young Sioux sent forward by the chiefs at Fort Laramie, partly as
guide and partly to vouch for the explorers in case they should meet
with hostile Sioux. Fremont imagined, from Bissonette’s long residence
in the country, that he was a guide, and followed his advice as to
the route to be pursued. He afterward learned that Bissonette had
seldom been out of sight of the fort, and his suggestions obliged the
party to travel over a very rough road. They met a party of Indians
who gave very discouraging accounts of the country ahead, saying that
buffalo were scarce, that there was no grass to support the horses,
partly because of the excessive drought, and partly on account of the
grasshoppers, which were unusually numerous. The next day they killed
five or six cows and made dried meat of them. Buffalo continued plenty
and they pushed forward, meeting Indians, who again gave them bad
accounts of the country ahead, so that Bissonette strongly advised
Fremont to turn about. This he declined to do, but told his men what he
had heard and left it to each man to say whether he would go on or turn
back. Fremont had absolute confidence in a number of the best men, and
felt sure that they would stay with him, and to his great satisfaction
all agreed to go forward. Here, however, the interpreter and his Indian
left him, and with them Fremont sent back one of his men, who, from
the effect of an old wound, was unable to travel on foot and his horse
seemed on the point of giving out. The carts were taken to pieces and
cached in some willow brush, while everything that could be spared
was buried in the ground. Pack-saddles were arranged and from here
the animals were to carry their loads, not to haul them. Carson was
appointed guide, for the region they were now entering had long been
his residence.

Instead of following the emigrant trail, which left the Platte and
crossed over to the Sweetwater, Fremont determined to keep on up the
Platte until he reached the Sweetwater, thinking that in this way he
would find better feed for his animals. The decision proved a wise one.
The day after leaving their cache they found abundant grass as well as
some buffalo, and although when they passed the ford where the Indian
village had crossed the river they found there the skeletons of horses
lying all about, they had no trouble in finding grass for their animals.

On August 1 they camped near Independence Rock, an isolated granite
rock about six hundred and fifty yards long and forty in height.
“Everywhere within six or eight feet of the ground, where the surface
is sufficiently smooth, and in some places sixty or eighty feet above,”
he relates, “the rock is inscribed with the names of travellers. Many
a name famous in the history of this country, and some well known
to science, are to be found mixed among those of the traders and of
travellers for pleasure and curiosity, and of missionaries among the
savages.”

It was on August 3 that the party had their first sight of the Wind
River Mountains, distant then about seventy miles, and appearing as a
low, dark, mountainous region. Soon after this they came to the canyon
where the Sweetwater comes out of the mountains, and they followed the
river up for some distance, but finally left it and turned up a ravine
leading to the high prairie above. For some time they had found fuel
very scarce, and had been obliged to burn buffalo chips and sage brush
as they did here. The rain, which from time to time had been falling
upon them down in the valley, now showed as snow on the white peaks
that they had approached, for they were within a short distance of the
South Pass, which was the objective point for the expedition. Soon they
reached the highest point of the Pass, which Fremont estimates at about
seven thousand feet, passed over it and camped on the Little Sandy, a
tributary of Green River.

The explorer felt a natural longing to push northward from this point,
wishing to cross the heads of the Yellowstone, which he justly supposed
arose among the mountains which lay to the north of him, but the party
were in no condition to make such a journey; the men were more or less
exhausted by the difficulties of past travel, provisions were almost
gone, and game was scarce. He, however, built a stout corral and felled
timber on the margin of a lake not far off, where there was abundant
food for the animals; and, dividing his party, left some of the men and
the weakest animals here, and taking fourteen men with fifteen of the
best mules, set out to penetrate farther into the mountains. Travel
through the mountains was slow and difficult, but attractive; it was
down one steep slope and then up another and then down again. Every
hilltop showed some deep and beautiful valley, often occupied by lakes,
always showing the course of some pure and rapid mountain torrent.
The vegetation was fresh and green, as different as possible from the
parched grass and juiceless wormwood through which they had so long
been travelling.

At their camp of August 13 the upward way became so steep and rough
that it was determined to leave the animals here and to continue
the journey on foot. The men carried with them nothing but arms and
instruments; and as the day was warm many of them left their coats
in camp. They climbed and climbed, finding, as always happens in the
mountains, that the distances were much greater than they supposed. At
night they were still far from their objective point, and they lay down
without anything to eat. The next morning, however, starting early, and
of course without food, they got among the snow-fields. The elevation
was now great, and several of the men, Fremont among the number, were
taken ill and were unable to proceed. From here Basil Lajeunesse, with
four men, was sent back to the place where the mules had been left,
with instructions to bring on, if possible, four or five animals, with
provisions and blankets. Soon after this Fremont and the remaining
men returned to their camp, and that night the men sent back for the
animals returned with food and bedding. The next day, encouraged
by rest and a couple of hearty meals, they determined once more to
essay the peaks. They rode their animals well up on to the mountains,
and then turning them loose, again began to climb. Their previous
experience stood them in good stead; they climbed slowly, and at last
reached the summit of the mountains, presumably the peak now known
as Fremont’s Peak. From this point the Three Tetons bore north fifty
degrees west, and Fremont’s elevation he gives as thirteen thousand
five hundred and seventy feet. He says, with reasonable pride, “We had
climbed the loftiest peak of the Rocky Mountains and looked down upon
the snow a thousand feet below, and, standing where never human foot
had stood before, felt the exultation of first explorers.”

They returned to the camp, where they had left their animals, and
travelled rapidly eastward, through South Pass, and down on to the
Sweetwater and the Platte. An effort was made to run this river with
the india-rubber boat, which for daring and hardihood really deserved
success. However, although they ran some distance and passed a number
of threatening places, they did not get through. “We pushed off again,
but after making a little distance the force of the current became
too great for the men on shore, and two of them let go the rope.
Lajeunesse, the third man, hung on and was jerked headforemost into the
river from a rock about twelve feet high, and down the boat shot like
an arrow. Basil following us in the rapid current and exerting all his
strength to keep in mid-channel--his head only seen occasionally like
a black spot in the white foam. How far we went I do not exactly know,
but we succeeded in turning the boat into an eddy below. ‘_Cré Dieu_’
said Basil Lajeunesse, as he arrived immediately after us. ‘_Je crois
bien que j’ai nagé un demi mile._’ (‘Good Lord! I believe I have swum
half a mile.’) He had owed his life to his skill as a swimmer, and I
determined to take him and the two others on board and trust to skill
and fortune to reach the other end in safety. We placed ourselves on
our knees and with the short paddles in our hands, the most skilful
boatman being at the bow, and again we commenced our rapid descent.
We cleared rock after rock and shot past fall after fall, our little
boat seeming to play with the cataract. We became flushed with success
and familiar with the danger, and, yielding to the excitement of the
occasion, broke forth together into a Canadian boat song. Singing, or
rather shouting, we dashed along, and were, I believe, in the midst
of the chorus when the boat struck a concealed rock immediately at
the foot of a fall which whirled her over in an instant. Three of my
men could not swim and my first feeling was to assist them and save
some of our effects; but a sharp concussion or two convinced me that
I had not yet saved myself. A few strokes brought me into an eddy,
and I landed on a pile of rocks on the left side. Looking around I
saw that Mr. Preuss had gained the shore on the same side, about
twenty yards below, and a little climbing and swimming soon brought
him to my side. On the opposite side, against the wall, lay the boat
bottom up, and Lambert was in the act of saving Descoteaux, whom he
had grasped by the hair, and who could not swim. ‘_Lache pas_,’ said
he, as I afterward learned, ‘_lache pas, cher frère_.’ (‘Don’t let
go; don’t let go, dear brother.’) ‘_Crains pas_,’ was the reply, ‘_Je
m’en vais mourir avant que de te lâcher_.’ (‘Don’t fear, I will die
before I let you go.’) Such was the reply of courage and generosity in
this danger. For a hundred yards below the current was covered with
floating books and boxes, bales of blankets and scattered articles
of clothing; and so strong and boiling was the stream that even our
heavy instruments--which were all in cases--kept on the surface, and
the sextant, circle and the long black box of the telescope were in
view at once. For a moment I felt somewhat disheartened. All our
books--almost every record of the journey--our journals and registers
of astronomical and barometrical observations--had been lost in a
moment. But it was no time to indulge in regrets, and I immediately set
about endeavoring to save something from the wreck. Making ourselves
understood as well as possible by signs--for nothing could be heard in
the roar of the waters--we commenced our operations. Of everything on
board the only article that had been saved was my double-barrelled gun,
which Descoteaux had caught and clung to with drowning tenacity. The
men continued down the river on the left bank. Mr. Preuss and myself
descended on the side we were on, and Lajeunesse, with a paddle in his
hand, jumped on the boat alone and continued down the cañon. She was
now light and cleared every bad place with much less difficulty. In a
short time he was joined by Lambert, and the search was continued for
about a mile and a half, which was as far as the boat could proceed in
the pass.

“Here the walls were about five hundred feet high, and the fragments of
rock from above had choked the river into a hollow pass but one or two
feet above the surface. Through this and the interstices of the rock
the water found its way. Favored beyond our expectations, all of our
registers had been recovered with the exception of one of my journals,
which contained the notes and incidents of travel, and topographical
descriptions, a number of scattered astronomical observations,
principally meridian altitudes of the sun, and our barometrical
register west of Laramie. Fortunately, our other journals contained
duplicates of the most important barometrical observations which had
been taken in the mountains. These, with a few scattered notes were
all that had been preserved of our meteorological observations. In
addition to these we saved the circle, and these, with a few blankets,
constituted everything that had been rescued from the waters.”

Having gathered up the things which they left on the shore, the members
of the party, half naked, started on foot for the camp below where the
other men had been sent. They reached there that night and found the
much-needed food and clothing.

After passing Fort Laramie, Fremont made another effort to navigate the
Platte River, trying to descend it in a bull boat; but this descent,
instead of being a trip by water, resolved itself into dragging
the vessel over the sands and finally abandoning it. On the 22d of
September, Fremont reached the village of the Grand Pawnees, about
thirty miles above the mouth of the Loup fork, on the Platte River, and
on October 1 he found himself at the settlements on the Missouri River.
From here the river was descended in a boat and St. Louis was reached
October 17.

[Illustration: AN OTO COUNCIL.

From James’s _An Expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains by
Major Stephen H. Long_.]




CHAPTER XXVIII

FREMONT

III


Fremont’s second trip was on a scale somewhat more extensive than his
first. His party consisted of thirty-two regular engagees, besides a
negro, and two Delaware Indians, who were hired to act as hunters.
The route was up the Kansas valley, across the divide, to the head of
the Arkansas, and then through passes in the mountains--if any could
be found--at the source of this river. The party left “the little
town of Kansas”--now Kansas City--the last of May, and proceeded
without special adventure until the afternoon of June 6, when a little
confusion was caused by the sudden arrival of Maxwell--one of the
hunters of the expedition of 1842--just in advance of a party of Osage
Indians. Maxwell had gone back to look for a lost horse, and the Osages
had promptly chased him into camp, a distance of nine miles. The Osages
drove off a number of the best horses, but a hard chase of seven or
eight miles recovered them all.

At this season of the year the streams were up, and some difficulty was
met with in crossing them. Game was scarce, for they were travelling
through a region frequently traversed by trapping and hunting parties
of Indians, and much pursuit had made the game watchful and wild.
Travel was so hard and slow, largely owing to rain and mud, that when
he reached Big Timber, Fremont determined to divide his party, leaving
Fitzpatrick--he of the Broken Hand--with twenty-five men in charge of
the provisions and heavier baggage of the camp; while Fremont, more
lightly loaded, but taking a wagon and the howitzer which had been
furnished by the United States arsenal at St. Louis, should proceed
ahead of the main party.

On June 19 they crossed the Pawnee road to the Arkansas, and suddenly
came upon the first buffalo, half a dozen bulls, which formed the
vanguard of immense herds, among which they journeyed for many days
afterward. The 4th of July found them at St. Vrain’s fort, on the South
Platte.

Their live stock was now much run down, and their stock of provisions
fairly exhausted; but they found the fort little better off than
themselves, and quite without surplus animals. Fremont, therefore,
authorized Maxwell, who was now about to separate from them and to
go on to Taos, to purchase there ten or twelve mules, pack them with
provisions, and meet him at the mouth of the Fontaine qui bouit, on the
Arkansas River.

On the 6th of July, ten miles above St. Vrain’s fort, the party
passed Fort Lancaster, the trading-post of Mr. Lupton. He had already
established a farm on the prairie, certainly one of the very earliest
in the Trans-Missouri country. Horses, cattle, and hogs ranged on the
prairie; and there was poultry, and what was left of a flourishing
garden, which had just been ruined by high water.

The next day a large camp--one hundred and sixty lodges--of Arapahoes
was passed. They had many horses and seemed prosperous.

They were now about seven thousand five hundred feet above the
sea-level and travelling along prairies from which the waters drained
into the Arkansas, Platte, and Kansas rivers. Pike’s Peak was in sight,
and farther to the south the Spanish Peaks.

The next day they came upon the wagon-road to the settlements on the
Arkansas River, and in the afternoon camped on the Fontaine qui bouit,
which they followed down, passing the camp of a hunter named Maurice,
who had been catching buffalo calves, a number of which were seen among
the cattle near his lodge. Here, too, were a party of mountaineers,
among whom were several Connecticut men belonging to Wyeth’s party.
On the afternoon of July 14 they camped near a pueblo, or town, where
were settled a number of mountaineers who had married Spanish women,
and had formed a farming settlement here. Fremont hoped that he might
have obtained some provisions from these people, but as trade with the
Spanish settlements was forbidden he got nothing except milk, of which
they had an abundance. Fremont learned here that the Spanish Utes were
on the war-path and that there had been a popular tumult among the
civilized Indians near Taos, and so felt some natural anxiety about
the safety of Maxwell. By great good luck, however, he met here Carson,
whom he engaged once more, and sent him off to Charles Bent, down the
Arkansas River, to buy mules at Bent’s fort--Fort William. Usually
there was a large stock of animals here, for the Indians, returning
from their raids into Mexico, often traded a part of their plunder for
goods.

The party now returned to St. Vrain’s fort, which they reached on the
23d. Here Fitzpatrick and his party were found safe and well, and also
Carson, who had brought with him ten good mules with the necessary
pack animals. The provisions which Fitzpatrick had brought and over
which he had watched with great care, were very welcome to the hungry
explorers. At this post the Delaware Indians determined to return to
their home. Fremont made up his mind that he would try the pass through
which the Câche-à-la-Poudre flowed, and he again divided the party,
sending Fitzpatrick across the plains to the mouth of the Laramie
River, to follow the usual emigrant trail and to meet him at Fort Hall.
Fremont with thirteen men was to take the longer road about. He started
up the Câche-à-la-Poudre, marched westward through the Medicine Bow
Mountains to the North Platte River, which he crossed. The way was not
exceptionally difficult except for the fact that it ran through large
and tough bushes of sage brush, which made the hauling hard. Buffalo
were abundant and food was plenty. Indeed, so many were killed that
they spent a day or two in camp drying meat as provision for the
future. While they were occupied at this, they were charged by about
seventy mounted Indians, but these were seen by the horse guard, the
horses driven into camp and the party took up a defensive position
in a grove of timber, so that the Indians, just before the howitzer
was fired at them, halted and explained that they had taken the camp
for one of hostile Indians. This war-party was one of Arapahoes and
Cheyennes, returning unsuccessful from a journey against their enemies,
the Shoshoni. They had lost several men and were not in a very pleasant
frame of mind.

From here, turning south, the party struck across to the Sweetwater
River and at length reached the trail to the Oregon, being thus on the
same ground that they had traversed the previous year. Green River,
then called Prairie-Hen River, was reached August 16, and something is
said of the impressions among the residents in the country about the
lower course of the Colorado. Says Fremont: “From many descriptions
of trappers it is probable that in its foaming course among its lofty
precipices it presents many scenes of wild grandeur; and though
offering many temptations, and often discussed, no trappers have been
found bold enough to undertake a voyage which has so certain a prospect
of a fatal termination. The Indians have strange stories of beautiful
valleys abounding with beaver shut up among inaccessible walls of rock
in the lower course of the river, and to which the neighboring Indians,
in their occasional wars with the Spaniards and among themselves,
drive their herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, leaving them to
pasture in perfect security.” Fremont was ignorant that nearly eighteen
years before Ashley had descended the Green River in a boat, and had
inscribed his name and a date on the rock which was seen there by Major
J. W. Powell more than forty years later. But Ashley’s expedition did
not get much farther than the mouth of Ashley River, where it was
wrecked and the trip abandoned.

Not long after crossing Green River they passed quite near Bridger’s
fort, and then sent Carson on to Fort Hall to secure provisions, while
Fremont with his party went on to Bear River. Following down this
stream they met a party of emigrants, saw more or less game in the way
of antelope and elk, and, on approaching the Shoshoni village, were
charged by the Indians, who supposed the white men a party of Sioux,
because they carried a flag regarded by these people as an emblem of
hostility, being usually carried by the Sioux, and the neighboring
mountain Indians when they came against the Shoshoni to war. The true
character of Fremont’s party was recognized by the Indians before
they got near them and they were kindly received in the village and
obtained provisions there. Further down the stream the celebrated
Beer Springs, “which, on account of the effervescing gas and acid
taste, have received their name from the voyageurs and trappers of the
country, who, in the midst of their rude and hard lives, are fond of
finding some fancied resemblance to the luxuries they rarely have the
fortune to enjoy.” The water of some of these springs is hot, and has
a pungent and disagreeable metallic taste leaving a burning effect on
the tongue. The Beer, or Soda Springs, are of the same character as the
boiling springs at the foot of Pike’s Peak, but those are not hot.

It was in the neighborhood of Bear River that Fremont and his party
first came in contact with the Indians which he calls Root Diggers, and
which in those old times were spoken of as Digger Indians. They are
various tribes and bands of Pah-utes, occupying the desert country of
the Rocky Mountains, whose subsistence is derived chiefly from roots
and seeds, and from such small animals as they capture.

The country which Fremont was crossing had formerly abounded in game,
but the buffalo had all disappeared. Even as early as this (1843),
attention had been called to the disappearance of the buffalo, and
Fremont says: “The extraordinary rapidity with which the buffalo is
disappearing from our territories will not appear surprising when we
remember the great scale on which their destruction is yearly carried
on. With inconsiderable exceptions, the business of the American
trading-posts is carried on in their skins; every year the Indian
villages make new lodges for which the skin of the buffalo furnishes
the material; and in that portion of the country where they are still
found, the Indians derive their entire support from them and slaughter
them with a thoughtless and abominable extravagance. Like the Indians
themselves, they have been a characteristic of the Great West; and as,
like them, they are visibly diminishing, it will be interesting to
throw a glance backward through the last twenty years and give some
account of their former distribution through the country and the limit
of their western range.

“The information is derived principally from Mr. Fitzpatrick, supported
by my own personal knowledge and acquaintance with the country. Our
knowledge does not go farther back than the spring of 1824, at which
time the buffalo were spread in immense numbers over the Green River
and Bear River valleys, and through all the country lying between the
Colorado, or Green River, of the Gulf of California, and Lewis’ fork of
the Columbia River; the meridian of Fort Hall then forming the western
limit of their range. The buffalo then remained for many years in that
country and frequently moved down the valley of the Columbia on both
sides of the river as far as the _Fishing Falls_. Below this point they
never descended in any numbers. About the year 1834 or 1835 they began
to diminish very rapidly and continued to decrease until 1838 or 1840,
when, with the country we have just described, they entirely abandoned
all the waters of the Pacific north of Lewis’ fork of the Columbia.
At that time the Flathead Indians were in the habit of finding their
buffalo on the heads of Salmon River, and other streams of the
Columbia; but now they never meet with them farther west than the three
forks of the Missouri or the plains of the Yellowstone River.

“In the course of our journey it will be remembered that the buffalo
have not so entirely abandoned the waters of the Pacific, in the Rocky
Mountain region South of the Sweetwater, as in the country North of
the Great Pass. This partial distribution can only be accounted for in
the great pastoral beauty of that country, which bears marks of having
long been one of their favorite haunts, and by the fact that the white
hunters have more frequented the Northern than the Southern region--it
being North of the South Pass that the hunters, trappers and traders
have had their rendezvous for many years past; and from that section
also the greater portion of the beaver and rich furs were taken,
although always the most dangerous as well as the most profitable
hunting ground.

“In that region lying between the Green or Colorado River and the head
waters of the Rio del Norte, over the _Yampah_, _Kooyah_, _White_,
and _Grand_ rivers--all of which are the waters of the Colorado--the
buffalo never extended so far to the westward as they did on the waters
of the Columbia; and only in one or two instances have they been known
to descend as far west as the mouth of the White River. In travelling
through the country west of the Rocky Mountains, observations readily
led me to the impression that the buffalo had, for the first time,
crossed that range to the waters of the Pacific only a few years prior
to the period we are considering and in this opinion I am sustained by
Mr. Fitzpatrick and the older trappers in that country. In the region
West of the Rocky Mountains we never meet with any of the ancient
vestiges which throughout all the country lying upon their Eastern
waters are found in the _great highways_, continuous for hundreds of
miles, always several inches and sometimes several feet in depth which
the buffalo have made in crossing from one river to another or in
traversing the mountain ranges. The Snake Indians, more particularly
those low down upon Lewis’ fork, have always been very grateful to the
American trappers for the great kindness (as they frequently expressed
it) which they did to them in driving the buffalo so low down the
Columbia River.

“The extraordinary abundance of the buffalo on the east side of the
Rocky Mountains and their extraordinary diminution will be made clearly
evident from the following statement: At any time between the years
1824 and 1836 a traveller might start from any given point South or
North in the Rocky Mountain range, journeying by the most direct route
to the Missouri River, and, during the whole distance, his road would
be always among large bands of buffalo, which would never be out of his
view until he arrived almost within sight of the abodes of civilization.

“At this time the buffalo occupy but a very limited space, principally
along the Eastern base of the Rocky Mountains, sometimes extending at
their Southern extremity to a considerable distance into the plains
between the Platte and Arkansas Rivers and along the Eastern frontier
of New Mexico as far South as Texas.

“The following statement, which I owe to the kindness of Mr. Sanford,
a partner in the American Fur Company, will further illustrate this
subject by extensive knowledge acquired during several years of travel
through the region inhabited by the buffalo:

“‘The total amount of robes annually traded by ourselves and others
will not be found to differ much from the following statement:

                                           ROBES.
    American Fur Company                   70,000
    Hudson Bay Company                     10,000
    All other companies, probably          10,000
                                           ------
    Making a total of                      90,000

as an average annual return for the last eight or ten years.

“‘In the Northwest, the Hudson’s Bay Company purchased from the Indians
but a very small number--their only market being Canada, to which the
cost of transportation nearly equals the produce of the furs; and it
is only within a very recent period that they have received buffalo
robes in trade; and out of the great number of buffalo annually killed
throughout the extensive regions inhabited by the Camanches and other
kindred tribes, no robes whatever are furnished for trade. During only
four months of the year (from November until March) the skins are
good for dressing; those obtained in the remaining eight months being
valueless to traders, and the hides of bulls are never taken off or
dressed as robes at any season. Probably not more than one-third of the
skins are taken from the animals killed, even when they are in good
season, the labor of preparing and dressing the robes being very great,
and it is seldom that a lodge trades more than twenty skins in a year.
It is during the summer months, and in the early part of autumn that
the greatest number of buffalo are killed, and yet at this time a skin
is never taken for the purpose of trade.’...”

Fremont’s party at this time was on short allowance of food. Word had
been sent to Carson to bring from Fort Hall a pack animal loaded with
provisions, for there was no game in the country and it was hard to
purchase food of any kind from the Indians.

On September 3 Carson rode into camp with provisions sufficient for a
few days. The party kept on down Bear River, and on the 6th from the
top of a hill saw the Great Salt Lake.

Up to this time this lake had been seen by comparatively few white
people; in fact, only by trappers who were wintering through the
country in search of beaver and who cared for geography only so far
as it helped them on their way. No white man’s boat had ever floated
on its dense waters, its islands had never been visited, and no one
had made a survey of its shores or even passed all around it. Among
trappers it was generally believed that while the lake had no visible
outlet there was somewhere in it a tremendous whirlpool through which
its waters flowed out by a subterranean channel to the ocean.

All these facts and beliefs made Fremont very anxious to visit the lake
and survey it; and having with him a rubber boat he had high hopes
of what he might accomplish. However, since the party was on short
allowance, the provisions which Carson had brought with him being now
exhausted, he sent back to Fort Hall seven of his extra men under the
charge of François Lajeunesse. The party was now reduced to eight,
five of whom were to make the first voyage of discovery on the Great
Salt Lake, while three should remain on the shore as camp keepers. It
was only now discovered that the boat was badly put together, and when
put in the water and loaded it leaked air in rather a serious way, so
that the constant use of the bellows was needed to keep it afloat.
Fortunately they had good weather at starting, for the day was very
calm; and they reached one of the islands to find the rocks along the
water’s edge encrusted with salt, and a windrow from ten to twenty
feet in breadth, consisting of the larvae of some small insect which
inhabited the water, and had been washed up on the shore. These worms,
so called, are the common food of certain tribes of Indians living in
the neighborhood of these salt or alkaline lakes. There was little on
the island to attract explorers, and in view of the frail nature of
their craft, and the danger of storms, they did not stay long, but
re-embarking reached the shore at a point quite distant from their
camp. Food continued scarce and a day or two later they killed a horse
for food.

At Fort Hall a few horses and oxen were purchased, the latter for
food, and here Fremont sent back eleven of his men, among them Basil
Lajeunesse, a good man whom Fremont was sorry to lose. Leaving Fort
Hall September 22 the journey was continued down Snake River.




CHAPTER XXIX

FREMONT

IV


Keeping on down Snake River, sometimes in its valley, sometimes, to
avoid bad travelling, marching back on the hills, the party went on.
Before long the Grand Rond was passed; and soon after this they entered
the timber, through a part of which they were obliged to cut their way.

When the missionary station, occupied by Dr. Whitman, was reached, it
was found that he was absent on a visit to the Dalles of the Columbia;
but here were seen a party of emigrants--men, women, and children--all
in good health, and living largely on potatoes, which even then were
raised here of good quality and in some quantity.

All the trading-posts in the Oregon country were still controlled
by the Hudson’s Bay people, but all received Fremont cordially, and
helped him on his way. They crossed John Day’s river, the Des Chutes,
called by Fremont Rivière aux Chutes. At the Dalles was a comfortable
settlement: “Two good-looking wooden dwelling houses, and a large
school house, with stables, barn and garden, and large cleared fields
between the houses and the river bank, on which were scattered the
wooden huts of an Indian village.” Here the party again divided,
Fremont leaving a part of his people at the Dalles with Carson, while
he and Mr. Preuss went on down the river by canoe.

The new mode of travel seemed very delightful to men who had been for
months journeying on foot and on horseback over a rough country. It was
very pleasant to float along down the broad stream, camping from time
to time to build their fires, and cook the fat salmon, and potatoes and
coffee, which they had, with bread and sugar--luxuries to which they
had long been strangers. It was a motley group, but a contented one.
Three Indians assisted in paddling the canoe, while the commander of
the expedition, the German, Preuss, the Frenchman, Bernier, and the
colored man, Jacob, floated onward to the sea. Fremont’s eagerness to
reach Fort Vancouver led him to travel during a part of each night; and
for the greater part of the voyage they had beautiful weather, made
good progress, and enjoyed the wonderful scenery. They were now in
sight of the splendid Cascade range, and of the towering peaks of Mount
Hood, St. Helens, and, later, Mount Rainier. As they passed on down the
river the hills grew lower, and presently, one night, they heard the
noise of a sawmill at work on the bank, and camped not far from Fort
Vancouver. Here, Dr. McLaughlin, the executive officer of the Hudson’s
Bay Company for the territory West of the Rocky Mountains, received the
travellers with that courtesy and hospitality for which he was so well
known, and concerning which all those who passed through the region in
early days spoke with so much gratitude.

About the fort were many American emigrants, some of them in a more or
less destitute condition, but all of them supplied with the necessaries
of life by the kindly Hudson’s Bay officer, who allowed them to pay for
what they had by their labor.

From Dr. McLaughlin Fremont procured three months’ provisions, and
through his kindness was enabled also to secure men and boats to
transport these provisions up the river to the camp of his main party
at the Dalles. The return journey was slow with the laden boats, for
they were obliged to cordelle the Mackinaw along the shore, being
unable to overcome the swift water by their oars.

From the Dalles it was Fremont’s purpose to go South, on the West
side of the Cascade range, as far as Klamath Lake--by Fremont written
Tlamath Lake; thence south to the reputed Buenaventura River, which
is said to empty into San Francisco Bay; thence across the desert to
the Rocky Mountains, opposite the headwaters of the Arkansas River,
and there, crossing the mountains, to follow down the Arkansas to
Bent’s Fort, and so back to St. Louis. Much of this region had never
been passed over by a surveyor. To make this trip at the beginning of
winter, the party consisted of twenty-five men, with one hundred and
four mules and horses, and a few California cattle, to be driven along
as food for the company.

After leaving the Dalles, Fremont’s whole party were occupied in making
the necessary preparations for the start into this new region. Horses
were purchased, provisions accumulated, all unnecessary baggage cut
out and left behind, and the little wagon which had hitherto carried
the instruments given to the mission. The howitzer, however, was to be
taken with them. Here a Chinook Indian, nineteen years old, who had
expressed a desire to see the whites, was permitted to join the party.

They started November 25 and followed along the plateau on the east
flanks of the Cascade range, and so on the western side of the Fall
River. The weather was cold and the streams frozen along the edges,
while snow lay on the ground. When the sky cleared superb views were
had of Mounts St. Helens, Hood, Rainier, Jefferson and other mountains
of what is now called the Presidential range. The weather grew
colder and the road more rough, it being over volcanic plains, often
interrupted by deep gulches or stream valleys. They were now passing
through the country of the Nez Percé, the Cayuse, and certain tribes
of Diggers, and from their Indian guides heard more or less alarming
accounts of the fierceness and treachery of the Indians before them.
December 10 they reached Klamath Lake and saw smoke arising from
different points about it. Here, for the purpose of encouraging their
guides, who evidently felt very shaky about the local Indians, and
alarming the latter, Fremont caused the howitzer to be fired with a
shell, and tells that “the bursting of the shell at a distance, which
was something like a second fire of the gun, amazed and bewildered them
with delight. It inspired them (the guides) with triumphant feelings,
but on the camps at a distance the effect was different, for the smokes
in the lake and on the shores immediately disappeared.”

The next day Fremont set out to look up the Indians, and before long
came near to a village from which two people were seen advancing to
meet them.

“We were surprised, on riding up, to find one of them a woman, having
never before known a squaw to take any part in the business of war.
They were the village chief and his wife, who, in excitement and alarm
at the unusual event and appearance, had come out to meet their fate
together. The chief was a very prepossessing Indian, with very handsome
features, and a singularly soft and agreeable voice--so remarkable as
to attract general notice.

“The huts were grouped together on the bank of the river, which, from
being spread out in a shallow marsh at the upper end of the lake, was
collected here into a single stream. They were large, round huts,
perhaps twenty feet in diameter, with rounded tops, on which was the
door by which they descended into the interior. Within, they were
supported by posts and beams.

“Almost like plants these people seemed to have adapted themselves to
the soil, and to be growing on what the immediate locality afforded.
Their only subsistence at this time appeared to be a small fish, great
quantities of which, that had been smoked and dried, were suspended on
strings about the lodge. Heaps of straw were lying around, and their
residence in the midst of grass and rushes had taught them a peculiar
skill in converting this material to useful purposes. Their shoes were
made of straw or grass, which seemed well adapted for a snowy country,
and the women wore on their heads a closely woven basket, which made a
very good cap. Among other things were parti-colored mats about four
feet square, which we purchased to lay on the snow under our blankets
and to use for table-cloths.

“Numbers of singular-looking dogs, resembling wolves, were sitting on
the tops of the huts, and of these we purchased a young one, which,
after its birthplace, was named Tlamath. The language spoken by these
Indians is different from that of the Shoshone and Columbia River
tribes, and otherwise than by signs they cannot understand each other.
They made us comprehend that they were at war with the people who lived
to the southward and to the eastward, but I could obtain from them no
certain information. The river on which they live enters the Cascade
Mountains on the western side of the lake, and breaks through them by
a passage impracticable for travellers, but over the mountains to the
northward are passes which present no other obstacle than in the almost
impenetrable forests. Unlike any Indians we had previously seen these
wore shells in their noses. We returned to our camp, after remaining
here an hour or two, accompanied by a number of Indians.”

Like many other persons since that time, Fremont was much impressed
by the attractions of Klamath Lake, and he stopped here a short time
to rest his animals. From this point on there were no maps, and
practically nothing could be learned of the country from the Indians,
although they drew rough maps in the effort to direct the explorers.
The road before them was hard and difficult, much of it through heavy
forest, made hard to travel by fallen trees, and by snow, which was
constantly growing deeper. After two or three very laborious and most
uncertain days, they came suddenly to the edge of a precipice, from
which they could look over into a green and sunshiny valley below,
partly filled by a great lake, which, from its appearance, Fremont
called Summer Lake. It stands so on the map to-day. The descent from
the mountain was a difficult one, but at last a way was found. It was
impossible, however, to reach the shores of the lake, on account of
the deep mud. However, streams of good water were passed at sufficient
intervals. They had now left the forest behind them, and their fuel
consisted of willow twigs and sage brush. A little farther along
another lake was approached, called Lake Abert, after Colonel Abert,
then the Chief of Engineers. The water of this lake, however, was very
bad. Everywhere about this lake were signs of Digger Indians, and about
this time they came upon a broad trail over which horses had passed.
Most of the country was sterile, and as they crossed the mountains,
from the watershed of these lakes, they found snow a foot deep.




CHAPTER XXX

FREMONT

V


New Year’s Day found them travelling through the desert, over a rough,
sandy road. The next day they reached a field of hot springs, the vapor
from which was visible a long way off. Fremont was growing uneasy. He
had very little idea where he was. There appeared to be no game in the
country, except hares, though occasional signs were seen of sheep and
antelope. His animals had begun to die, and he felt the necessity of
proceeding with great caution. Because of the uncertainty of water for
his animals, he formed the plan of exploring the country in advance
each day, and leaving the main party behind. On January 10, a beautiful
lake, some twenty miles broad, was seen from the top of a ridge, and
they proceeded toward it. On the way herds of mountain-sheep were seen
on the hills. When they came on a little stream about a mile from the
margin of the lake, they found a broad Indian trail following the
shores of the lake to the southward. This was followed for a short
distance, and then ascended a precipice, against which the water dashed
below, and it was very difficult to get the howitzer along this trail.
Mountain-sheep in numbers, and ducks, and some fish were seen, and the
party passed the pyramid which rises out of the lake and gives it its
name. The last of the cattle driven from the Dalles was killed here
for food. On January 15 a few Indians made their appearance about the
camp, and one of them was persuaded to come into it. It was difficult
to communicate with him; but from what he said, it was inferred that at
the end of the lake was a river, which subsequent investigation showed
ran into the lake, which has no outlet. Here, to the great delight of
the white men, the Indians brought in fish to trade. Fremont calls them
salmon trout, and says that they were from two to four feet in length.
They appeared to form the chief food of these Indians, who, Fremont
says, hold the fishery in exclusive possession, and who are different
from the “Digger” Indians so frequently spoken of in crossing the
desert. It appeared that these Indians were in communication either
with the whites or with other Indians knowing the whites, for they
possessed articles of civilized manufacture.

The party now followed up the stream running into Pyramid Lake,
travelling along toward the Sierra Nevada Mountains. They were on an
Indian trail, and hoped soon to find the Buenaventura River, for which
they had been looking. Columns of smoke rising over the country at
intervals made them sure that the Indians were notifying each other
that strangers had come into the country. Their animals were growing
thin and weak; their feet were much worn away by the rocks, and many
of them were lame. Fremont decided, therefore, that he must abandon his
course to the eastward and must cross the mountains into the valley of
the Sacramento River as soon as possible.

Keeping on southward along the mountains, they crossed streams issuing
from them which tempted them to try for a pass; but the heavy snows
which appeared to lie on the mountains induced the leader to keep on
farther southward. January 24 an Indian came into the camp and offered
the strangers a little bag of pine nuts, which they purchased from
him. They also gave him some presents; and as nearly as they could
understand his signs he promised to conduct them to the opening of a
pass of which he knew. From here on they constantly saw Indians, all
of whom traded pine nuts to them, and all were armed with bows and
stone-pointed arrows. The level of the country appeared to be growing
higher, and the snow grew deeper. They put one of their guides on a
horse, but he was evidently unacquainted with the animal, and did not
even know how to guide it. Soon they entered the range, and having left
the desert country, found a country well timbered, and which appeared
to produce considerable game. They climbed to the head of the stream,
passed over a ridge, and saw from the summit a sunlit country where
there was evidently grass. Here the Indians were wearing snow-shoes,
and accompanied the party, running around them, and swiftly and easily
travelling over the snow. They appeared to have no idea of the power
of fire-arms, and thought themselves perfectly safe so long as they
kept out of arm’s reach.

Descending on the head of this next stream, Fremont learned, before
he had gone very far, that this was merely the head of another stream
running eastward into the Great Basin, and that they still had to cross
a great ridge before they could reach Pacific waters.

The Indians here had heard of a party of twelve white men who, two
years before, had ascended the river and crossed to the other side;
but this was done when it was summer-time and there was little or no
snow to oppose the passage; and at present the Indians declared it
could not be done. Nevertheless, they agreed to furnish a guide to
take the whites as far as possible. Provisions were now getting low,
and consisted chiefly of pease, a little flour, some coffee, and a
quantity of sugar. It was on this day, January 29, that the howitzer,
which had been dragged so far, was finally abandoned. On January 31
they continued to climb the mountains among the snow. Indians kept
visiting them in greater and greater numbers, and from all were heard
most discouraging accounts of the possibility of crossing the range.
An old man told them that if they could break through the snow, at the
end of three days they would come upon grass, which would be about six
inches high; and here Fremont decided to attempt the passage and to
try to reach Sutter’s ranch on the Sacramento. Preparations were made,
therefore, to face the cold of the heights, and clothing was repaired
and put in order, and a new guide was engaged, who was also fitted
out with special reference to the hardships likely to be met with.
A dog that had been with them for some little time was killed, and
this, with a few rabbits purchased from the Indians, gave the party a
strengthening meal.

When they started, the snow soon became so deep that it was absolutely
necessary that a road should be broken for the animals. This was done
in systematic fashion, and for several days they advanced by very short
marches, but without meeting any obstacles greater than the depth of
the snow. Sometimes the lack of feed at the end of the day’s march
would render it necessary to send back the animals to feed at some
point on the trail just passed over, where there was good pasture.
Two or three days of this hard work was very discouraging. However,
Fremont’s energy never faltered. He and Carson and Fitzpatrick, on
snow-shoes, went ahead, reconnoitring in all directions and trying to
pick out a good road, and on February 6 they reached a peak from which
they saw the valley of the Sacramento; and Carson recognized various
natural features which he had not seen for fifteen years.

The difficulties of travel for the horses was so great, and the
hillsides so steep, that many of the animals found the greatest
difficulty in getting along themselves and could not carry their
loads. Sledges were made, therefore, on which the men drew the baggage
over the snow; but of course this made progress very slow indeed. The
hunters went out to look for game, but found none.

It was on February 20 that they camped with the animals that were left,
and with all the material of the camp, on the summit of a pass in the
dividing ridge, about a thousand miles from the Dalles, whence they had
started. The prospects of the descent were not promising. Before them
were rough mountains, among which lay deep fields of snow; but shortly
after they started on their way, they heard the roll of thunder, and
looking toward the valley saw a thunder-storm in progress. As the sky
cleared, they could see a shining line of water leading toward another
broader and larger sheet; and in these they recognized the Sacramento
River and the bay of San Francisco. Yet so frequent had been their
disappointments during their wanderings through the rough mountains
that they hardly dared to believe that they were at last to penetrate
the warm, pleasing country where they should be free from the hardships
and exposure of the last few months. This night they killed a mule for
food, and again the next night. February 23 was their hardest day, for
they were forced to travel along steep and slippery mountainsides,
where moisture, snow, and ice, together with the tough evergreens of
the mountain, made walking difficult and wearisome; but on this night
a storm showered upon them rain and not snow. The men, exhausted by
the labor of travel and by the lack of food, were beginning to lose
strength and courage.

However, now they were constantly descending. The thermometer was just
about freezing, and they had left the Sierras behind. The green grass
was beginning to make its appearance. The river was descending rapidly,
and growing larger. Soon they came to deciduous trees and a warmer
atmosphere. The country was covered with growing plants, and the voices
of singing birds were heard in the summer air. They were still killing
the horses for food.

Fremont now believed that the main difficulties of the road were over,
and leaving Fitzpatrick to follow slowly with the main camp, he started
ahead with a party of eight, intending to reach Mr. Sutter’s house
as soon as possible, and to return with provisions and fresh animals
for the party. Fitzpatrick was left in command of the others, with
instructions to bring on the animals slowly, for all were very weak.

But they were not yet out of their troubles. For much of the way the
river ran through narrow canyons, and the travellers were obliged
to clamber along the mountain side, over a road rough and almost
impassable for their enfeebled live-stock. However, at their camps they
found grass. As they went on they were obliged to leave their animals
behind, and Fremont left his favorite horse, Proveau, which could no
longer keep up. One of the men started back to bring the horse, but did
not return until the second day, when it was apparent that his mind
was deranged. This day Mr. Preuss, who had gone ahead, did not appear
at night, and his absence caused much anxiety. The next day they met
some Indians, and kept on down the river, still continuing their search
for the lost man. They came upon tracks of Indians, little piles of
mussel shells and old fires where they had cooked. On March 4 they came
on an Indian village, where they found houses, and near each one a
store-house of acorns. In the houses were basketfuls of roasted acorns,
and although the Indians had fled, the travellers supplied themselves
with this food, leaving various small articles in payment. In a
village not far below three Indian women were captured. They were much
frightened, but, encouraged by good treatment, offered food. This night
Mr. Preuss came in, very weak from starvation, but not otherwise in bad
condition. He had subsisted on roots, ants, frogs, and had received
some acorns from Indians whom he met.

At the next village Indians were found wearing shirts of civilized
manufacture, and then they came to another and larger village, where
the people were dressed more or less in European clothing. Here was
a man who could speak Spanish, a vaquero in the service of Captain
Sutter, whose fort was but a short distance away. At the fort Fremont
was met by Captain Sutter, who gave him a cordial reception, and
a night of enjoyment of all the luxuries that he had so long been
without. The next day, with fresh horses and provisions, Fremont
hurried back to meet Fitzpatrick, and brought in the rest of the party.
The second division had had a hard time, having lost many animals;
so that of the sixty-seven horses and mules with which they started
to cross the Sierras, only thirty-three reached the valley of the
Sacramento. The beef, the bread, and the salmon, which Fremont brought,
put heart into the starving men, and before long they had reached a
permanent camp not far from Sutter’s fort.

Captain Sutter had come to California from the western part of
Missouri in 1838-39, and had settled in the Sacramento valley on a
large grant of land received from the Mexican Government. Though he
had at first had some trouble with the Indians, he succeeded, by
his judicious treatment, in converting them into a peaceable and
industrious people. They did practically all the work of the ranch, and
were paid in shirts, blankets, and articles of clothing. The soil was
fertile, and its yield ample. Cattle and horses were abundant. He had a
number of mechanics, who made whatever he needed.

The blacksmith of Fremont’s party, desiring to remain in California,
was here discharged, as were also four others of the party. Derosier,
one of the best men in the outfit, the one who a few days before had
gone back after Fremont’s horse, wandered away from the camp and never
returned.

On March 24 the party having recovered from the suffering endured in
crossing the mountains, and being now once more strong, set out to
continue their journey. An ample stock of provisions had been secured,
and a fresh supply of animals, consisting of one hundred and thirty
horses and mules, and about thirty head of cattle, were also secured.
An Indian herder was furnished by Captain Sutter to look after the
stock, a great part of which was absolutely wild. From this point it
was purposed to go south, up the valley of the San Joaquin, to a pass
at its head. Thence they were to move south-eastwardly to reach the
Spanish trail, which led to Santa Fé. Their southward journey was
delightful. Fremont speaks in terms of enthusiasm of the flowers they
met with, of the beautiful groves of oaks, the songs of the birds,
the sweet odors that perfumed the air. Elk and antelope were in great
abundance, and the wild horses were so numerous that the travellers
feared for the safety of the wild stock they were driving with them.
On April 7 they crossed the divide between the headwaters of the San
Joaquin and the Tulé Lakes. The passage brought with it more or less
change in climate and a distinct change in surroundings. Indians were
met with constantly, and most of them seemed well disposed. As they
lowered their altitude, after passing over the divide, the way became
more rough, though the feed for the animals was still good.

Fortunately Fremont’s party was ahead of the annual Santa Fé caravans,
which insured them good grass at the camping places. They had not gone
far before they met parties of Mohave Indians, who seemed friendly
enough; but on the day following, two Spaniards, a man and a lad,
came into camp telling of their party of six having been attacked
by Indians, about eighty miles beyond the encampment. They had with
them about thirty horses, and were suddenly attacked by a party of
Indians, who had previously been in camp and seemed friendly. The horse
guards--the two who had just come into Fremont’s camp--drove their
animals through the attacking party and escaped with their horses,
which they had left about twenty miles behind on coming to Fremont’s
camp. When the white men came to the place where the horses had been
left, it appeared that the animals had been driven off by Indians.
Carson and Godey with the Mexican Fuentes started after them; but in
the evening the Mexican returned, his horse having given out.

“In the afternoon of the next day a warwhoop was heard, such as Indians
make when returning from a victorious enterprise, and soon Carson and
Godey appeared, driving before them a band of horses, recognized by
Fuentes to be part of those they had lost. Two bloody scalps, dangling
from the end of Godey’s gun, announced that they had overtaken the
Indians as well as the horses. They informed us that after Fuentes
left them, from the failure of his horse, they continued the pursuit
alone, and toward nightfall entered the mountains, into which the trail
led. After sunset the moon gave light, and they followed the trail by
moonshine until late in the night, when it entered a narrow defile
and was difficult to follow. Afraid of losing it in the darkness of
the defile, they tied up their horses, struck no fire, and lay down
to sleep in silence and in darkness. Here they lay from midnight till
morning. At daylight they resumed the pursuit, and about sunrise
discovered the horses, and immediately dismounting and tying up their
own, they crept cautiously to a rising ground which intervened, from
the crest of which they perceived the encampment of four lodges close
by. They proceeded quietly, and had got within thirty or forty yards
of their object when a movement among the horses disclosed them to
the Indians. Giving the war shout, they instantly charged into the
camp, regardless of the number which the four lodges would imply. The
Indians received them with a flight of arrows shot from their long
bows, one of which passed through Godey’s shirt collar, barely missing
the neck. Our men fired their rifles upon a steady aim, and rushed in.
Two Indians were stretched on the ground, fatally pierced with bullets;
the rest fled, except a lad that was captured. The scalps of the fallen
were instantly stripped off; but in the process, one of them, who had
two balls through his body, sprung to his feet, the blood streaming
from his skinned head, and uttering a hideous howl. An old squaw,
possibly his mother, stopped and looked back from the mountain-side
she was climbing, threatening and lamenting. The frightful spectacle
appalled the stout hearts of our men; but they did what humanity
required, and quickly terminated the agonies of the gory savage. They
were now masters of the camp, which was a pretty little recess in the
mountain, with a fine spring, and apparently safe from all invasion.
Great preparations had been made to feast a large party, for it was a
very proper place for a rendezvous, and for the celebration of such
orgies as robbers of the desert would delight in. Several of the best
horses had been killed, skinned and cut up, for the Indians, living
in mountains and only coming into the plains to rob and murder, make
no other use of horses than to eat them. Large earthen vessels were
on the fire, boiling and stewing the horse beef, and several baskets
containing fifty or sixty pairs of moccasins indicated the presence or
expectation of a considerable party. They released the boy, who had
given strong evidence of the stoicism or something else of the savage
character, by commencing his breakfast upon a horse’s head as soon as
he found he was not to be killed, but only tied as a prisoner. Their
object accomplished, our men gathered up all the surviving horses,
fifteen in number, returned upon their trail, and rejoined us at our
camp in the afternoon of the same day. They rode about one hundred
miles in the pursuit and return, and all in thirty hours. The time,
place, object and numbers considered, this expedition of Carson and
Godey may be considered among the boldest and most disinterested which
the annals of western adventure, so full of daring deeds, can present.
Two men, in a savage desert, pursue day and night an unknown body of
Indians into the defiles of an unknown mountain, attack them on sight
without counting numbers, and defeat them in an instant--and for
what? To punish the robbers of the desert, and to avenge the wrongs
of Mexicans whom they did not know. I repeat, it was Carson and Godey
who did this--the former an American, born in the Boonslick county of
Missouri; the latter a Frenchman, born in St. Louis--and both trained
to western enterprise from early life.”

A little later the party came to the place where the Mexicans had been
attacked. There were found the two men of the party, both killed by
arrows; but of the women there was no trace, they having evidently
been carried away. Journeying onward, making short marches, and some
that were very long, they kept on along the Spanish trail. May 4--the
longest journey of all, between fifty and sixty miles without any
water--the skeletons of horses were constantly seen along the trail.
“Hourly expecting to find water, we continued to press on, until toward
midnight, when, after a hard and uninterrupted march of sixteen hours,
our wild mules began running ahead, and in a mile or two we came to
a bold running stream--so keen is the sense of that animal, in these
desert regions, in scenting at a distance this necessary of life.”

The next day was spent in camp, that the animals might rest and feed.
Indians were about them constantly, and apparently tried to steal their
horses. They were very bold and insolent, but the whites bore it all,
being unwilling to be drawn into a fight. These were the same people
who had murdered the Mexicans; they were barefooted and nearly naked;
the men were armed with bows and arrows, each carrying a quiver of
thirty or forty shafts. The arrow-heads were made of clear, translucent
stone, and Fremont says, “Shot from their long bows are almost as
effective as a gun shot.” A chief came into camp, and declared his
confidence in himself and his people, and his belief that they could
destroy the white men, merely on the ground that they were many while
the whites were few. The Indians were seen hunting lizards, which they
dragged from a hole by means of a long stick hooked at the end. The
next day they followed the party, and promptly picked up every animal
that was left behind to rest and feed. That night one of the best men,
Tabeau, was killed by an Indian, having been shot with arrows not far
from the camp. These Indians did not appear after this day. A day or
two later the party met Joe Walker, the trapper, who now became guide
for the expedition. With him were eight Americans, who, having started
with the Spanish caravan, had heard that a party of white men were
ahead, and had left the caravan and overtaken the explorers. On the way
they had an encounter with the Diggers that had troubled Fremont, and
killed two of them.

May 23, they reached Sevier River, a tributary of the lake of the same
name. Here they were obliged to ferry themselves across in boats made
of bundles of rushes tied together and bound to poles. Here, too,
Badeau, a good man, was killed by accident; he dragged toward him a gun
by the muzzle and the gun was discharged. Not far beyond they reached
Utah Lake, which Fremont imagined to be the southern end of Great Salt
Lake. He was much puzzled, however, that the northern end of the lake
should be a saturated solution of salt, while the southern end was
fresh. It does not appear to have occurred to him that these were two
different bodies of water.

Having crossed the mountains to the valley of White River, he reached,
on the 3d of June, what he calls the winter fort, a trading post
belonging to Mr. A. Roubideau, on the principal fork of the Uintah
River. On the 7th, they found themselves on the verge of Brown’s Hole,
a name well known to all old-timers in the West, and thirty years ago
one of the greatest game countries in the world. Here mountain-sheep
were found, and some killed. Two or three days later, buffalo were
killed; and we may imagine the delight with which the travellers found
themselves once more back on the range where fat cow was to be had.
From here they went north into the Three Parks, travelling in pleasant
weather through a country well watered, where grass and wood were to
be had, and where buffalo, antelope, and elk were hardly ever out of
sight. On June 14, they were in New Park, now called North Park, going
southward up the Platte River. They soon came upon parties of Arapahoes
and Sioux, and the camp was full of Indians. On June 22 they crossed
the mountains and found themselves on the headwaters of the Arkansas.
A day or two later they were present at a fight which took place
between Utes and Arapahoes. The Ute women urged the white men to take
part in the fight; but they felt that it was no concern of theirs, and
were quite uneasy lest they themselves should be attacked. They kept
travelling, and before night had put fifteen miles between themselves
and the Indian village, and fortified themselves. They were now
travelling rapidly down the Arkansas, meeting Indians constantly. Among
these were a large village of Pawnees, who received the white men “with
unfriendly rudeness and characteristic insolence which they never fail
to display whenever they find an occasion for doing so with impunity.”
The Pawnees, indeed, seem always subject to the animadversion of the
early traveller.

The party journeyed down the Arkansas for nearly three hundred miles,
and on the last day of July, 1844, reached the little town of Kansas,
on the Missouri. Fremont’s second journey was over.




INDEX


    Abert, Col., 434.

    Adair, 78.

    Alberta, 254.

    Alexander, Henry, 13, _et seq._

    Amahami, 285.

    American Fur Company, 398, 424.

    Annahways, 155, 156.

    Annian, Straits of, 58, 83.

    Antelope, curiosity of, 235.

    Apaches, 88, 337, 339.

    Arapahoes, 170.

    Arikara, 152, 154, 158, 161, 163, 204, 359.

    Arkansas R., 237.

    Ashley, 420.

    Assiniboia, 254.

    Assiniboine R., 199.

    Assiniboines, 49, 53, 71, 155, 163, 254, 262, 266, 287.

    Astor, John Jacob, 298, 301, 391.

    Astoria, 297, 298, 368.

    Athabasca, Lake, 54-55.

    Athabascans, 54.

    Atséna, 170.


    B

    Baker’s Bay, 303.

    Bannock Indians, 390.

    Bastonnais, 55.

    Bay of the Holy Spirit, 237.

    Bayou Salade, 380.

    Bear killing, 31.

    Bear R., 389.

    Beaver Indians, 102, 107, 109.

    Beaver Lake, 44, 45, 53.

    Beaverhead, 175, 202.

    Beer Springs, 420.

    Behring’s Isle, 78.

    Beliefs of Indians, 129.

    Bent, Charles, 418.

    Bent’s Fort, 375, 378, 430.

    Big Horn R., 202.

    Big Sioux R., 68, 145, 206.

    Big White, 205.

    Birch Creek, 200.

    Bissonette, Joseph, 405.

    Black Hills, 151.

    Black Mountains, 147, 151, 155.

    Black Shoe Indians, 157.

    Blackfeet, 160, 168, 178, 202, 254, 289, 292, 320.

    Blackfoot Indians, 369.

    Blond children, 284.

    Bloods, 291.

    Blueberry Creek, 295.

    Bois Percé, 262.

    Boisais R., 389.

    Bonak Indians, 390.

    “Boston Men,” 55.

    Bostonnais, 55.

    Bounty on scalps, 339.

    Bridger, Jas., 361, 404.

    British Columbia, 254.

    Brown’s Hole, 384, 385.

    Brulés, 148.

    Buenaventura R., 430, 436.

    Buffalo, decoying, 51.

    Buffalo, old range of, 422.


    C

    Câche-à-la-Poudre R., 418.

    Caiguas, 337.

    California and Oregon Trail, 9.

    Calumet birds, 153.

    Calumet Bluff, 146.

    Canadian R., 343, 347.

    Cannon Ball R., 153.

    Canoe Island, 126.

    Cape Disappointment, 370.

    Caribou Island, 42.

    Carrabou, 81.

    Carson, Kit, 362, 395.

    Carver, Jonathan, 57, _et seq._, 140, 213.

    Cass Lake, 222.

    Caws, 374.

    Cayuse, 366.

    Cedar Island, 149.

    Cedar Lake, 43, 289.

    Chaboneau, 173, 174, 177, 196, 202.

    Chagouemig, 36.

    Chequamegon, 37.

    Cherokees, 353.

    Cheyennes, 43, 143, 146, 155, 158, 205, 262, 285, 292.

    Chickasaws, 353.

    Chihuahua, 247, 248, 347.

    Chimney Rock, 360.

    Chinook, 188, 304, 367, 390.

    Chipewyans, 54, 88, 90, 103, 130.

    Chippewa, 224.

    Choctaws, 353.

    Chopunnish, 179, 196.

    Chouteau, Cyprian, 395.

    Christineaux, 42, 53.

    Churchill R., 54.

    Cimarron R., 334.

    Clear R., 219.

    Clearwater R., 290.

    Cœur d’Alene Indians, 371.

    Cœur d’Alene R., 318.

    Colter’s Hell, 204.

    Comancheros, 354.

    Comanches, 240, 344.

    Commerce of the Prairies, 6, 332.

    Converse with the spirits, 72.

    Coppermine R., 86, 116.

    “Cordelle,” 169.

    Coues, Dr. Elliott, 10, 222, 243, 251, 254, 297.

    Council Grove, 333.

    _Coureurs des bois_, 12, 13.

    Court House Rock, 360.

    Cox, Ross, 301.

    Cowelisk R., 186.

    Creeks, 353.

    Crees, 42, 71, 101, 103, 123, 155, 254, 262, 266.

    Cumberland House, 44, 45, 53, 289.

    Cypress R., 287.


    D

    Dakota, 49.

    Dalles, 367.

    Dancing, 160.

    Dearborn R., 174, 199.

    Deer Mountain, 104, 108.

    Des Chutes R., 428.

    Detroit, 23, 27, 35, 36, 77.

    Digger Indians, 389.

    Dog Plains, 62.

    Dog-rib, 88, 89.

    Dogden Buttes, 282.

    Dry Fork, 169.

    Duluth, 37.


    E

    El Paso del Norte, 247, 347.

    Elk R., 329.

    Eskimo, 92, 93, 94, 97.


    F

    Falls of St. Anthony, 63, 215, 224.

    Falls of St. Marie, 76.

    Fargo, 262.

    Farnham, Thos. J., 371.

    Fishing, 20, 21.

    Fishing Falls of Columbia, 422.

    Fitzpatrick (of the Broken Hand), 405, 416.

    Flatheads, 293, 319, 327.

    Floyd, Charles, 145, 206.

    Fols Avoin, 210.

    Fond du Lac, 37.

    Fontaine qui bouit, 416.

    Fort: Bent’s, 375, 378, 430;
      Bourbon, 43, 289;
      Bridger, 384, 420;
      Clatsop, 190;
      Chipewyan, 85, 86, 101, 108;
      Cumberland House, 44, 45, 53, 289;
      Dauphin, 44;
      David Crockett, 384, 388;
      des Prairies, 44, 53;
      El Puebla, 378;
      George (Astoria), 298, 299, 327;
      Hall, 389, 418, 420, 427;
      John, 404;
      Mandan, 156;
      Michilimackinac, 16;
      Nippewen, 44;
      Okanagan, 371;
      Pike’s, 217;
      Rocky Mountain House, 290, 297, 328;
      St. Vrain’s, 402, 416;
      Vancouver, 367, 392;
      Vermillion, 289;
      William, 298;
      William (Bent’s), 375, 378, 395, 418;
      York, 249.

    Fowler, Jacob, 10.

    Fox R., 61.

    Foxes, 61, 209.

    Frazer R., 98.

    Fremont, John C., 393.

    Fremont’s Peak, 410.

    Fur trade in 1785, 86.


    G

    Gallatin R., 174.

    Gama’s Land, 78.

    Garces, 10.

    Gass, Sergeant, 201.

    Gens des Terres, 40.

    Godey, 445.

    Goshen’s Hole, 404.

    Grand Forks, 261, 271.

    Grand Pawnees, 414.

    Grand Portage, 42, 55, 67, 71, 255, 290.

    Grand R., 230, 423.

    Grape Creek, 240.

    Gray-haired children, 284.

    Great Basin, 438.

    Great Falls (of Missouri R.), 172.

    Great Kettle Falls, 327.

    Great Narrows, 193.

    Great Rapids (of the Saskatchewan), 43.

    Great Salt Lake, 426, 449.

    Green R., 408, 419.

    Gregg, Josiah, 332.

    Gros Ventres, 168.

    Gros Ventres of the Prairie, 170, 199, 293.


    H

    Hair Hills, 259, 265, 288.

    Hairdressing, method of, 79.

    Hare, 88.

    Henry, Alexander, 56.

    Henry, Alexander, the Younger, 154, 222, 253.

    Henry, William, 56, 298.

    _Heterodon platyrhinos_, 78.

    Hidatsa, 155.

    Hill of the Little People, 145.

    Horse Creek, 404.

    Horses, catching wild, 235.

    Horses encourage indolence, 274.

    Hudson’s Bay Company, 86, 271, 280, 289, 301.

    Hunt, W. P., 299, 303.

    Huts (of Eskimo), 94.


    I

    Ile de Maurepas, 42.

    Independence Rock, 360, 407.

    Indian tribes: Amahami, 285;
      Annahways, 155, 156;
      Apaches, 88, 337, 339;
      Arapahoes, 170;
      Arikara, 152, 154, 158, 161, 163, 359;
      Assiniboines, 49, 53, 71, 155, 163, 168, 254, 262, 266, 287;
      Atséna, 170;
      Bannock Indians, 390;
      Beaver, 102, 107, 109;
      Blackfeet, 160, 168, 178, 202, 254, 289;
      Blackfoot Indians, 369;
      Black Shoe Indians, 157;
      Bloods, 291;
      Bonak Indians, 390;
      Brulés, 148;
      Caiguas, 337;
      Caws, 374;
      Cayuse, 356;
      Cherokees, 353;
      Cheyennes, 43, 143, 146, 155, 205, 262, 285, 292;
      Chickasaws, 353;
      Chinook, 188, 304, 369, 390;
      Chipewyans, 54, 88, 90, 103, 130;
      Chippewa, 224;
      Choctaws, 353;
      Chopunnish, 179, 196;
      Christineaux, 42, 53;
      Cœur d’Alene Indians, 371;
      Comanches, 240, 344;
      Creeks, 353;
      Crees, 42, 71, 101, 123, 155, 254, 262;
      Dakota, 49;
      Digger Indians, 389;
      Dog-Rib, 88;
      Eskimo, 90-97;
      Flatheads, 293, 319, 327;
      Fols Avoin, 210;
      Gens des Terres, 40;
      Grand Pawnees, 414;
      Gros Ventres of the Prairie, 170, 199, 293;
      Hare, 88;
      Hidatsa, 155;
      Kans, 232;
      Kansas, 373;
      Kauzaus Indians, 373;
      Killamucks, 188;
      Killistinaux, 42;
      Killistinoes, 42;
      Kiowas, 240, 344;
      Kinistineaux, 42;
      Kite, 143, 147;
      Knisteneaux, 102;
      Kutenais, 295;
      Loucheux, 97;
      Mahaha, 157;
      Menominees, 210, 221;
      Mindawarcarton, 148;
      Minneconjous, 148;
      Minnetari, 155, 156;
      Minnetari of Fort de Prairie, 170, 199;
      Minnewakaton, 148;
      Missourias, 141, 144, 145;
      Mohave Indians, 444;
      Nascud Denee, 127;
      Navajos, 88;
      Nez Percés, 179, 180, 194, 313, 326;
      Ogallalas, 148, 150, 360;
      Ojibwa, 215, 257;
      Omaha, 144;
      Osages, 141, 207, 225, 227, 235;
      Osinipoilles, 49;
      Otoes, 141, 144, 145;
      Pahkees, 178;
      Pah-utes, 421;
      Pawnawnees, 68;
      Pawnee, 68, 142-44, 158, 208, 227-238;
      Pawnee Picts, 357;
      Peigan, 178, 291;
      Pierced-nose, 179, 313;
      Poncas, 148;
      Puants, 209;
      Red Knife, 88, 90;
      Rees, 152, 153, 205;
      Ricaras, 156;
      Rocky Mountain, 107;
      Root Diggers, 421;
      Sac, 208;
      Sacs and Foxes, 209, 225;
      Santees, 148;
      Sarsi, 291, 292;
      Saulteurs, 262;
      Sauteurs, 209, 223;
      Schian, 285;
      Seminoles, 353;
      Sharha, 158;
      Shoshoni, 155, 175, 178, 180, 326;
      Sioux, 49, 62, 63, _et passim_;
      Sissetons, 148, 221;
      Sistasoone, 148;
      Slave, 89;
      Snake Indians, 385, 424;
      Sokulks, 181;
      Soulier, 285;
      Soulier Noir, 157, 283;
      Spokanes, 313;
      Staitan, 143;
      Suhtai, 143;
      Swampy Crees, 43;
      Teton Indians, 149, 204;
      Tetons of the Burned Woods--Minnakenozzo, Saone, 148;
      Tushepaw Indians, 179;
      Utes, 450;
      Walla Wallas, 194, 312, 320, 326, 366;
      Wahpatones, 148;
      Wahpatoota, 148;
      Wattasoons, 157;
      Winnebagoes, 60, 209, 225;
      Witapat, 144;
      Yanktonnaies, 148;
      Yankton Sioux, 146, 148, 152, 221;
      Yanktons of the Plains, 148;
      Yellow Knives, 88;
      Yutas, 337.

    Isle a la crosse, Lake, 54.

    Isle de Carre Boeuf, 88.

    Isle of St. Joseph, 76.

    Isles du Castor, 29.


    J

    Jackson’s Hole, 362.

    James R., 148.

    Japon, 78.

    Jedso, 78.

    Jefferson, President, 139, 210.

    Jefferson R., 174, 176, 201.

    Jessaume, 154.

    John Day R., 428.

    Jornada del Muerto, 347.

    Judith R., 170.


    K

    Kans, 232.

    Kansas R., 148, 207, 231.

    Kaskaskia, 242, 331.

    Kauzaus Indians, 373.

    Keewatin, 254.

    Killamucks, 188.

    Killistinaux, 42.

    Killistinoes, 42.

    “King George Men,” 55.

    Kinistineaux, 42.

    Kiowa Calendar, 346.

    Kiowas, 240, 344.

    Kite Indians, 143, 147.

    Kitkahahk Village, 207.

    Klamath Lake, 430, 434.

    Knife R., 157.

    Knisteneaux, 102.

    Kooyah R., 423.

    Kutenai Park, 295.

    Kutenai Plains, 295.

    Kutenais, 295.


    L

    La Charette, 206.

    La Chaudière, 321.

    Lachine, 14, 15.

    La Cloche, 16.

    La Crosse, 213.

    Lake (or Lac):
      a la Pluie, 42, 67;
      Arabuthcow, 54, 55;
      Athabasca, 54, 55;
      Beaver, 44, 45, 53;
      Cass, 222;
      Cedar, 43, 289;
      Dauphin, 44;
      de Bourbon, 43, 67, 289;
      Des Chats, 15;
      Great Salt, 426, 449;
      Isle a la Crosse, 54;
      Klamath, 430, 434;
      La Sang Sue, 222;
      Leech, 222;
      of the Crees, 42;
      of the Hills, 85, 102;
      of the Woods, 42, 55, 67, 255;
      Ottawa, 66;
      Pepin, 62;
      Pyramid, 436;
      Rainy, 106, 324;
      Red, 260;
      St. Louis, 15;
      Salt, 55;
      Slave, 87, 101, 329;
      Sturgeon, 287;
      Summer, 434;
      Temiscamingue, 40;
      Tlamath, 430;
      Tulé, 444;
      Upper Red Cedar, 222;
      Utah, 449;
      Winnebago, 60;
      Winipegon, 42, 67;
      Winnipeg, 255, 289.

    Laramie R., 404.

    L’Arbre Croche, 12, 29.

    La Rivière qui Court, 148.

    La Roche Jaune, 165.

    Le Borgne, 205.

    Le Boulet R., 153.

    Lee, John, 398.

    Lewis and Clark, 6, 8, 138, _et seq._

    Lewis R., 180, 181, 194.

    Little Bear R., 382.

    Little Missouri, 153, 155.

    Little Sandy R., 408.

    Little Snake R., 382.

    Lodge Pole Creek, 404.

    Long--_Voyages and Travels_, 259.

    Loucheux, 97.

    Louisiana Purchase, 5, 59, 138, 145.

    Loup Fork R., 148, 259.


    M

    Mackenzie, Alexander, 84, _et. seq._

    Mackenzie, Donald, 303.

    Mackenzie reaches Pacific Ocean, 132.

    Macubah, 132.

    Madison R., 174, 202.

    Mahaha, 157.

    Maison du Chien, 282.

    Mandans, 153, _et seq._

    Manitoba, 254.

    Maria’s R., 199.

    Marquette, Father, 17.

    Massacre at Michilimackinac, 23.

    Mattawa R., 15.

    Matthews, 155.

    Maxwell, L., 395.

    McDougal, Duncan, 298.

    McLaughlin, Dr. J., 367.

    Medicine Bow Mountains, 418.

    Medicine Lodge R., 291.

    Meeting the Shoshoni, 175.

    Menominees, 210, 221.

    Messorie, 65, 68, 83.

    Michilimackinac, 16, 20, 22, 27, 38, 39, 56.

    Michipicoten, 39-41, 277.

    Milk R., 169.

    Mindawarcarton, 148.

    Minnavavana, 17.

    Minneconjous, 148.

    Minnesota R., 64.

    Minnetari, 155, 156.

    Minnetari of Fort de Prairie, 170, 199.

    Minnewakaton, 148.

    Missisaki R., 16.

    Missouri R., 17.

    Missourias, 141, 144, 145.

    Mohave Indians, 444.

    Mt. Hood, 429.

    Mt. Rainier, 429.

    Mt. St. Helens, 429.

    Mouse R., 282.

    Musselshell R., 169.

    Mustangs, 350.


    N

    Nanibojou, 41.

    Nascud Denee, 127.

    Natchitoches, 249.

    Naudowessie (of the Plains), 62, 63, 67.

    Navajos, 88.

    Nebraska, 397.

    Nelson R., 65.

    New Park, 450.

    Nez Percés, 313, 326, 179, 180, 194.

    Nicollet, Joseph, 145.

    Niobrara, R., 148.

    Nootka, 304.

    North Park (Colo.), 380.

    Northwest Fur Company, 86, 154, 222, 298, 302.


    O

    Ogallalas, 148, 150, 360.

    Ojibwa, 215, 257.

    Okinagan, 323, 327.

    Okinagan R., 323.

    Omaha Indians, 144.

    Ontario R., 254.

    Ontonagan R., 37-38.

    Ordway, Sergeant, 198.

    Oregon, 391.

    Oregon R., 65, 83, 394.

    Origin story (of Mandans), 159.

    Osage R., 228.

    Osages, 141, 144, 207, 225, 227-235.

    Osinipoilles, 49, 50, 53.

    Otoes, 141, 144, 145.

    Ottawa R., 15.

    Ottigaumies, 61, 80.

    Ottowaw Lakes, 66.

    Ouisconsin (or Ouisconsing) R., 61, 209.

    Oxen, wild, 49.


    P

    Pacific Fur Company, 299.

    Pahkees, 178.

    Pah-utes, 421.

    Panbian Mts., 262.

    Panbian R., 272, 277.

    Pangman, Peter, 290, 292.

    Pangman’s Tree, 290.

    Park R., 258.

    Parker, Samuel, 356.

    Pasquayah R., 43.

    Pawnawnees, 68.

    Pawnees, 68, 142, 144, 158, 208, 227-235, 238.

    Pawnee Picts, 357.

    Peace Point, 102.

    Peace R., 55, 102-103, 107, 121, 136.

    Peigan, 178, 291.

    Pembina Mts., 262.

    Pembina R., 298.

    Pemmican, 100.

    Pepin, Lake, 62.

    Petit Corbeau, 216.

    Pierced-nose Indians, 179, 313.

    Pike, Zebulon M., 141, 207, 331, 393.

    Pike’s Flag Raising, 233.

    Pike’s Fort, 217.

    Pioneers, character of, 11.

    Platte R., 143, 148, 206.

    Pompey’s Pillar, 203.

    Poncas, 148.

    Pond, Peter, 43-44.

    Pontiac, 35, 77.

    Porcupine R., 167.

    Portage de Lisle, 255.

    Portage La Prairie, 254, 256.

    Prairie des Chiens, La, 62, 65, 210, 224.

    Prairie Hen R., 419.

    Preuss, Charles, 395.

    Pryor, Sergeant, 146, 198, 202, 203.

    Puants, 209.

    Puget Sound, 58.

    Purgatory R., 237.

    Pyramid Lake, 436.


    R

    Rainy Lake, 106, 324.

    Red Deer R., 291.

    Red Knife Indians, 88, 90.

    Red Lake, 260.

    Red Mountain, 65.

    Red R. (Canadian), 240, 241, 245.

    Red Wing, 224.

    Rees, 152, 153, 205.

    Republican R., 207.

    Reynards, 209.

    Ricaras, 156.

    Riding Mountain, 254.

    Rio Grande, 245.

    Rio Grande del Norte, 242, 330.

    Risen Moose, 215.

    Rivers:
      Arkansas, 237;
      Assiniboine, 199;
      Bear, 389;
      Big Sioux, 68;
      Birch, 200;
      Blueberry, 295;
      Boisais, 389;
      Buenaventura, 430, 436;
      Câche à la Poudre, 418;
      Canadian, 343, 347;
      Cannon Ball, 153;
      Cimarron, 334;
      Clear, 219;
      Clearwater, 290;
      Cœur d’Alene, 318;
      Coppermine, 86, 116;
      Cowelisk, 186;
      Cypress, 287;
      Dearborn, 174, 199;
      de Bourbon, 43, 65;
      Des Chutes, 428;
      Dry Fork, 169;
      Elk, 329;
      Fontaine qui bouit, 416;
      Fox, 61;
      Frazer, 98;
      Gallatin, 174;
      Grand, 230, 423;
      Grape, 240;
      Green, 408, 419;
      Horse, 404;
      James, 148;
      Jefferson, 174, 176, 201;
      John Day, 428;
      Judith, 170;
      Kansas, 148, 207, 231, 396;
      Knife, 157;
      Laramie, 404;
      La Rivière qui Court, 148;
      La Roche Jaune, 165;
      Le Boulet, 153;
      Lewis, 180, 194;
      Little Bear, 382;
      Little Missouri, 153, 155;
      Little Sandy, 408;
      Little Snake, 382;
      Lodge Pole, 404;
      Loup, 148, 259;
      Madison, 174, 202;
      Maria’s, 199;
      Mattawa, 15;
      Medicine Lodge, 291;
      Messorie, 65, 68, 83;
      Milk, 169;
      Minnesota, 64;
      Missisaki, 16;
      Missouri, 17, _et passim_;
      Mouse, 282;
      Musselshell, 169;
      Nelson, 65;
      Niobrara, 148;
      of the West, 65, 83;
      of Souls, 237;
      Okinagan, 323;
      Ontonagan, 37, 38;
      Oregon, 65, 83, 394;
      Osage, 228;
      Ottawa, 15;
      Ouisconsin (or Ouisconsing), 61, 209;
      Panbian, 272, 277;
      Pasquayah, 43;
      Peace, 55, 102, 121, 136;
      Pembina, 298;
      Platte, 240;
      Porcupine, 167;
      Prairie Hen, 419;
      Purgatory, 237;
      Red (Canadian), 240, 241, 245;
      Republican, 207;
      Rio del Nord, 61;
      Rio Grande, 245;
      Rio Grande del Norte, 242, 330;
      Rivière aux Chutes, 428;
      Rocky Mountain, 328;
      Running Water, 148;
      Sacramento, 437, 440;
      St. Croix, 62, 67;
      St. Fee, 61;
      St. Frances, 63, 64;
      St. Maurice, 40;
      St. Peter’s, 224, 262;
      St. Pierre, 64, 65;
      Saskatchewan, 17, 43, 289;
      Salmon, 365, 422;
      Schian, 262;
      Sevier, 449;
      Snake, 389, 428;
      Solomon, 231;
      Spokane, 327;
      Sweetwater, 407, 419;
      Uintah, 449;
      Walla Walla, 194, 312, 321;
      White, 234, 449;
      Whitestone, 145;
      Winnipic, 255;
      Wisconsin, 61;
      Wisdom, 201;
      Yampah, 423;
      Yellowstone, 165, 198, 201;
      York, 65;
      Yukon, 98;

    Road of War, 67.

    Robinson, Dr., 227, 235.

    Robinson, “Uncle Jack,” 384.

    Rock Mountain Indians, 107.

    Rocky Mountain Ho., 290, 297, 328.

    Rocky Mountain R., 328.

    Root Diggers, 421.

    Running Water R., 148.


    S

    Sac, 208.

    Sackett’s Harbor, 252.

    Sacramento R., 437, 440.

    Sacs and Foxes, 209, 225.

    St. Anne’s, 15.

    St. Augustine, founded, 3.

    St. Croix R., 62, 67.

    St. Maurice R., 40.

    St. Peter’s, 216.

    St. Peter’s R., 224, 262.

    St. Pierre R., 64, 65.

    St. Vrain’s Fort, 402, 416.

    Salmon R., 365, 422.

    Salt Lake, 55.

    San Francisco Bay, 440.

    San Joaquin R., 444.

    Sans Oreille, 228.

    Santa Fé, 6, 7, 207, 242, 331.

    Santees, 148.

    Sarsi, 291, 292.

    Saskatchewan (Province), 254.

    Saskatchewan R., 17, 43, 44, 289.

    Saukies, (town of), 61.

    Sault de Sainte-Marie, 20, 36, 39, 42, 77.

    Saulteurs, 262.

    Sauteurs, 209, 223.

    Schian R., 262.

    Schians, 285.

    Scott’s Bluffs, 360.

    Seminoles, 353.

    Sepulcher Rock, 193.

    Sevier R., 449.

    Sharha, 158.

    Shining Mountains, 64, 69.

    Shoshoni, 155, 175, 178, 180, 326.

    Side Hill Calf, 200.

    Sierra Nevada Mts., 436.

    Sign Language, 284.

    Sioux, 49, 61, 62, _et passim_.

    Sissetons, 148, 221.

    Sistasoone, 148.

    Slave Indians, 89.

    Slave Lake, 87, 101, 329.

    Snake Indians, 385, 424.

    Snake R., 389, 428.

    Soda Springs, 421.

    Sokulks, 181.

    Solomon R., 231.

    Soulier, 285.

    Soulier Noir, 157, 283.

    South Pass, 408.

    South Platte R., 240.

    Spokane, 319.

    Spokane House, 320.

    Spokane R., 327.

    Spokanes, 313.

    Staitan, 143.

    Staked Plains, 348.

    Standing Rock, 152.

    Standing Rock Agency, 152.

    Stone Idol Creek, 152.

    Stony, or Rocky, Mountains, 55.

    Straits of Annian, 58, 83.

    Sturgeon Lake, 287.

    Suhtai, 143.

    Summer Lake, 434.

    Surgery, 104.

    Sutter, Capt., 442.

    Swampy Crees, 43.

    Sweetwater R., 407, 419.


    T

    Tanner, 280.

    Taos, 7, 330, 395.

    Temiscamingue Lake, 40.

    Terre Blanche, 293.

    Teton Indians, 149, 204.

    Tetons of the Burned Woods, 148.
      Minnakenozzo.
      Saone.

    “The River of the West,” 388.

    Thompson, David, 222.

    Thousand Lakes, 64.

    Three Forks of the Missouri, 174.

    Three Parks, 450.

    Three Tetons, 410.

    Tlamath Lake, 430.

    Tongue R., 278.

    Tonquin, fate of, 304.

    Townsend, Dr. J. K., 368, 390.

    Trading Post, _see_ Fort.

    _Tripe de roche_, 41.

    Tulé Lake, 444.

    Tushepaw Indians, 179.

    Twisted Hair, 195.


    U

    Uintah R., 449.

    Umfreville, 5.

    Upper Red Cedar Lake, 222.

    Utah Lake, 449.


    V

    Vera Cruz, 332.

    Vérendrye, 17, 43, 59, 289.


    W

    Wacon-teebe, 63.

    Wahpatones, 148.

    Wahpatoota, 148.

    Walla Walla R., 194, 312, 321.

    Walla Wallas, 194, 312, 320, 326, 366.

    Wappatoo, 185, 191.

    Warrior Societies, 147.

    Washington, (State of), 291.

    Wattasoons, 157.

    West Road R., 126.

    White Bear Island, 199.

    White Goose, 215.

    White R., 423, 449.

    Whitestone R., 145.

    Whitman, Dr. Marcus, 356, 361.

    Wilkinson, Gen. James, 207, 211, 223, 226.

    Wilkinson, Lt., 227, 235.

    Willard, Sergeant, 201.

    Wind River Mountains, 408.

    Winnebago, Lake, 60.

    Winnebagoes, 60, 61, 209, 225.

    Winnipic R., 255.

    Wisconsin R., 61.

    Wisdom R., 201.

    Witapat, 144.

    Wolf Calf, 200.

    Wolf pits, 282.

    Wolves attacking horses, 324.

    Wolves, rabid, 260.

    Wood R., 141.


    Y

    Yampah R., 423.

    Yankton Sioux, 146, 148, 152, 221.

    Yanktonnaies, 148.

    Yanktons of the Plains, 148.

    Yellow Knives, 88.

    Yellowstone Park, 204.

    Yellowstone R., 165, 198, 201, 202.

    Yeso, 78.

    York R., 65.

    Yukon R., 98.

    Yutas, 337.




Trails of the Pathfinders

By GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL

Illustrated. $1.50 net. Postpaid $1.65


CONTENTS

    INTRODUCTION
    ALEXANDER HENRY
    JONATHAN CARVER
    ALEXANDER MACKENZIE
    LEWIS AND CLARK
    ZEBULON M. PIKE
    ALEXANDER HENRY (THE YOUNGER)
    ROSS COX
    THE COMMERCE OF THE PRAIRIES
    SAMUEL PARKER
    THOMAS J. FARNHAM
    FREMONT

One of the most stirring and inspiring chapters in the history of our
country is made up of the picturesque, straightforward narratives of
their adventures, told by the heroic men of action, explorers, hunters,
and trappers, who first travelled through the unknown regions and among
hostile Indians. Mr. Grinnell gives a number of the most exciting and
important of these stories, told almost entirely in the words of the
explorer himself, and they form a work of unrivalled interest to old
and young.




READY SHORTLY

Zebulon M. Pike

Edited by MARY GAY HUMPHREYS

Illustrated. About $1.50 net. Postage extra


The thrilling account of Pike’s explorations told chiefly in his own
words.


CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, NEW YORK




The Boy’s Catlin

My Life Among the Indians

Edited with Biographical Introduction by MARY GAY HUMPHREYS

Illustrated from Catlin’s Drawings. $1.50 net


“As interesting a story of Indians as was ever written and has the
merit of being true.”--_New York Sun._

“It would be hard to find a book of more wholesome fascination for
boys.”--_San Francisco Argonaut._




The Boy’s Drake

By EDWIN M. BACON

Illustrated. $1.50 net. Postpaid $1.65


“Much of the story is told in the words of old records, and interesting
old maps and pictures make it still more valuable.”--_The Bookman._

“He has entered into the stirring time of England’s conquest of the
seas and has written a fine biography of her great pirate captain, a
book worthy of its subject and a worthy book for a boy.”--_Chicago
Tribune._




The Boy’s Hakluyt

Retold from Hakluyt

By EDWIN M. BACON

Illustrated. $1.50 net


“There is more adventure in this volume than will be found in a whole
library of fiction.”--_New York Sun._


CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, NEW YORK




BY NOAH BROOKS

First Across the Continent

A CONCISE STORY OF THE LEWIS AND CLARK EXPEDITION

Illustrated. $1.50 net


“More readable than a romance, full of hair-breadth escapes and
imminent perils from savage man and beast, by storm and flood, by
sickness and cold and starvation.”--_Chicago Post._

“For any one who has an interest in adventure and in the hardihood of
the pioneer this is a great story.”--_Boston Herald._




The Boy Emigrants

Illustrated. $1.25


“It is one of the best boys’ stories we have ever read.”--_The
Christian Work._

“The name alone of this volume’s author should be a sufficient
voucher for its qualities ... the book is picturesque and
stirring.”--_Providence Journal._




The Boy Settlers

A STORY OF EARLY TIMES IN KANSAS

Illustrated. $1.25


“Three boys and two men go out into Kansas, at the time when that
region was the Far West. The boys have great sport killing buffaloes
and some trouble about Indian uprisings.”--_The Independent._


CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, NEW YORK




The Adventures of James Capen Adams

Mountaineer and Grizzly Bear Hunter of California

By THEODORE H. HITTELL

Illustrated. $1.50 net. Postpaid $1.65


The story of the life and thrilling adventures of one of the most
famous of American hunters and one of the first great tamers of wild
animals.

The narrative is given just as it first appeared in the simple, direct
language in which “Grizzly” Adams told it to Mr. Hittell--a style that
bears all the marks of absolute truth.




The Grizzly Bear

By WILLIAM H. WRIGHT

Illustrated from Photographs by the Author and J. B. Kerfoot. $1.50 net


“Full of the atmosphere of the big game woods and vibrant with hazards
of the chase.”--_Boston Globe._

“The very spirit of the grizzly is in subtle fashion brought near us.
The book will long hold a high place in the literature of sport.”--_New
York Tribune._




The Black Bear

By WILLIAM H. WRIGHT

Illustrated from Photographs by the Author and J. B. Kerfoot. $1.00
net. Postpaid $1.10


“Finely illustrated, informing, and entertaining.”--_Philadelphia
Inquirer._


CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, NEW YORK




      *      *      *      *      *      *




Transcriber’s note:

Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not
changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unpaired
quotation marks were retained.

Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.

Index not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page references.



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