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Indian Warrior A I tacked by Grizzly 
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 THE ADVENTVPyCS OF P 
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 WHILE engaged in writing an account 
 of the grand enterprise of Astoria, 
 it was my practice to seek all kinds 
 of oral information connected with thp supject. 
 Nowhere did I pick up more interestnig par- 
 ticulars than at the table of Mr. John Jacob 
 Astor ; who, being the patriarch of the Fur 
 Trade in the United States, was accustomed 
 to have at his board various persons of adven- 
 turous turn, some of whom had been engaged 
 in his own great undertaking ; others, on their 
 own account, had made expeditions to the 
 Rocky Mountains and the waters of the Co- 
 lumbia. 
 
 Among these personages, one who pecu- 
 liarly took my fancy, was Captain Bonneville, 
 of the United States army ; who, in a rambling 
 kind of enterprise, had strangely ingrafted the 
 trapper and hunter upon the soldier. As his 
 expeditions and adventures will form the lead- 
 
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 ing theme of the following pages, a few bio- 
 graphical particulars conceniiJig him may not 
 be unacceptable. 
 
 Captain Bonneville is of French parentage. 
 Ills father was a worthy old emigrant, who 
 came to this country many years since, and 
 took up his abode in New York. He is repre- 
 sented as a man not much calculated for the 
 sordid struggle of a money-nmking world, but 
 pos.sessed of a happy temperament, a festivity 
 of imagination, and a simplicity of heart, that 
 made him proof against its rubs and trials. 
 He was an excellent .scholar ; well acquainted 
 with Latin and Greek, and fond of the modern 
 classics. His book was Iiis elysium ; once im- 
 mersed in the pages of Voltaire, Corneille, or 
 Racine, or of his favorite Knglish author, 
 Shakespeare, he forgot the world and all its 
 concerns. Often woidd he be seen in sunnner 
 weather, .seated under one of the trees on the 
 liattery, or the portico of St. Paul's Church 
 in Broadway, his bald head uncovered, his liat 
 lying by his side, his eyes riveted to the page 
 of his book, and his whole .soul .so engaged, 
 as to lose all consciousness of the passing 
 throng or the passing hour. 
 
 Captain Bonneville, it will be found, inherited 
 some of his father's bonhomie, and his excitable 
 imagination ; though the latter was some- 
 
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 what disciplined in early years, by mathemati- 
 cal studies. He was educated at our national 
 Military Academy at West Point, where he 
 acquitted himself very creditably ; thence, he 
 entered the army, in which he has ever since 
 continued. 
 
 The nature of our military .service took him 
 to the frontier, where, for a number of years, 
 he was stationed at various posts in the Far 
 West. Here he was brought into frequent 
 intercourse with Indian traders, mountain 
 trappers, and other pioneers of the wilderness ; 
 and became so excited by their tales of wild 
 scenes and wild adventures, and their accounts 
 of vast and magnificent regions as yet unex- 
 plored, that an expedition to the Rocky Moun- 
 tains became the ardent desire of his heart, and 
 an enterprise to explore untrodden tracts, the 
 leading object of his ambition. 
 
 By degrees he shajx-'d this vague day-dream 
 into a practical reality. Having made himself 
 acquainted with all the requisites for a trading 
 enterprise beyond the mountains, he determined 
 to undertake it. A leave of absence, and a 
 .sanction of his expedition, was obtained from 
 the major-general in chief, on his offering to 
 combine public utility with his private projects, 
 and to collect statistical information for the 
 War Department, concerning the wild countries 
 
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 and wild tribes he might visit in the course of 
 his journeyings. 
 
 Nothing now was wanting to the darling 
 project of the captain, but the ways and means. 
 The expedition would require an outfit of 
 nianj' tliousajul dollars ; a staggering obstacle 
 to a soldier, whose capital is seldom anything 
 more than his sword. Full of that buoyant 
 hope, however, which belongs to the sanguine 
 temperament, he repaired to New York, the 
 great focus of American enterprise, whtre 
 there are always funds ready for any scheme, 
 however chimerical or romantic. Here he had 
 the good foitune to meet with a gentleman of 
 high respe( tability and influence, who had been 
 his associate in boyhood, and who cherished a 
 .sc-i«ol-fellow friendship for him. He took a 
 general interest in the scheme of the captain ; 
 intrcxluced him to commercial men of his ac- 
 quaintance, and in a little while an association 
 was formed, and the necessary funds were 
 raised 'o carrj- the proposed measure intt) effect. 
 One of the most efficient persons in this associ- 
 ation was Mr. Alfred Seton, who, when quite 
 a 3'outli, had accompanied one of the expedi- 
 tions sent out by Mr. Astor to his commercial 
 estal)li.shments on the Columbia, and had dis- 
 tinguished hiai.self by his activity and courage 
 at one of the interior posts. Mr. Seton was 
 
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 one of the American youths who were at Astoria 
 at the time of its surrender to the British, and 
 who manifested such grief and indignation at 
 seeing the flag of their country hauled down. 
 The hope of seeing that flag once more planted 
 on the shores of the Columbia, may have 
 entered into his motives for engaging in the 
 present enterprise. 
 
 Thus backed and provided. Captain Bonne- 
 ville undertook his expedition into the Far 
 "West, and was soon beyond the Rocky Moun- 
 tains. Year after year elapsed without his 
 return. The term of his leave of absence 
 expired, yet no report was made of him at 
 headquarters at Washington. He was con- 
 sidered virtually dead or lost, and his name 
 was stricken from the army list. 
 
 It was in the autunni of 1835, at the country 
 seat of Mr. John Jacob Astor, at Hellgate, that 
 I first met with Captain Bomieville. He was 
 then ju.st returned from a residence of upwards 
 of three years among the mountains, and was 
 on his way to report himself at headquarters, 
 in the hoi)es of being reinstated in the .service. 
 From all that I could learn, his wanderings in 
 the wilderness, though they had gratified his 
 curio.sity and his love of adventure, had not 
 nuich benefited his fortunes. Like Corporal 
 Trim in his campaigns, he had " satisfied the 
 
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 sentiment," and that was all. In fact, he was 
 too much of the frank, free-hearted soldier, 
 and had inherited too much of his father's tem- 
 perament, to make a scheming trapper, or a 
 thrifty bargainer. There was .something in 
 the whole appearance of the captain that pre- 
 possessed nie in his favor. He was of the 
 middle size, well made and well set ; and a 
 military frock of foreign cut, that had .seen 
 service, gave him a look of compactness. His 
 countenance was frank, open, and engaging ; 
 well browned by the .sun, and had something 
 of a French expression. He had a pleasant 
 black eye, a higli forehead, and while he kept 
 his hat on, the look of a man in the jocund 
 prime of his days ; but the moment his head 
 was uncovered, a bald crown gained h.a credit 
 for a few more years than he was really enti- 
 tled to. 
 
 Being extremely curious, at the time, about 
 everything connected with the Far West, I 
 addressed numerous questions to him. They 
 drew from him a number of extremely .strik- 
 ing details, which were given with mingled 
 modesty and frankness ; and in a gentleness 
 of manner, and a soft tone of voice, contra.st- 
 ing singularly with the wild and often start- 
 ling nature of his themes. It was difficult to 
 concei^■e the mild, (piiet-looking personage 
 
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 before you, the actual hero of the stirring 
 scenes related. 
 
 In tlie course of three or four months, hap- 
 pening to be at the city of Washington, I 
 again catne upon the captain, who was at- 
 tending the slow adjustment of his affairs witli 
 the War Department. I found him quartered 
 with a worthy brother in arms, a major in 
 the army. Here he was writing at a table, 
 covered with maps and papers, in the centre 
 of a large barrack room, fancifully tlecorated 
 with Indian arms, and trophies, and war 
 dresses, and the skins of various wild animals, 
 and hung round with pictures of Indian games 
 and ceremonies, and .scenes of war and hunt- 
 ing. In a word, the captain was beguiling the 
 tediousness of attendance at court, by an at- 
 tempt at authorship ; and was rewriting and 
 extending his travelling notes, and making 
 maps of the regions he had exploreil. As he 
 sat at the table, in this curious apartment, with 
 his high bald head of somewhat foreign cast, 
 he reminded me of some of those antique pic- 
 tures of authors that I have seen in old Spanish 
 volumes. 
 
 The result of his labors was a ma^sof manu- 
 .script, which he subsequently put at my dis- 
 posal, to fit it for publication ami bring it be- 
 fore tlic world. I found it full of interesting 
 
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 details of life among the mountains, and of 
 the singular castes and races, both white men 
 and red men, among whom he had sojourned. 
 It bore, too, throughout, the impress of his 
 character, his bonhomie, his kindliness of 
 spirit, and his susceptibility to the grand and 
 beautiful. 
 
 That manuscript has formed the staple of 
 the following work. I have occasionally in- 
 terwoven facts and details, gathered from 
 various sources, especially from the conversa- 
 tions and journals c^f some of the captain's 
 contemporaries, who were actors in the scenes 
 he describes. I have also given it a tone and 
 coloring drawn from my own observation, dur- 
 ing an excursion into the Indian country be- 
 yond the bounds of civilization ; as I before 
 observed, however, the work is .substantially 
 the narrative of the worthy captain, and many 
 of its most graphic pa,ssages are but little 
 varied from his own language. 
 
 I shall conclude this notice by a dedication 
 which he had made of his manuscript to his 
 hospitable brother in arms, in whose quarters 
 I found him occupied in his literary labors ; it 
 is a dedication which, I believe, possesses the 
 qualities, not always found in complimentary 
 documents of the kind, of being sincere, and 
 being merited. 
 
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 TO 
 
 JAMKS HARVIvY MOOK, 
 
 MAJOR U, S. A. 
 
 WHOSE JEAI.OUSV OV ITS HONOR, 
 WHOSE ANXIETY EOK ITS INTERESTS, 
 
 AND 
 
 WHOSE SENSIBIIJTV FOR ITS WANTS, 
 
 HAVE ENDEARED Iini TO TIIIC SICRVICE AS 
 
 Zbc SoIOiei'3 ifiicnD ; 
 
 AND WHOSE GENERAI, AMENITV, CONSTANT 
 
 CHIUvRlTI.NIvSS, DISINTKR1';STi:d HOSI'I- 
 
 TALITY, AND INWEARIi; I) HHNlvVO- 
 
 LENCi;, ICNTITLIC HIM To THIv 
 
 STIEE LOFTIER TITIJ'; OF 
 
 THE FRIIvND OF MAN, 
 
 THIS WORK IS INSCRIBED, 
 ETC. 
 
 A'ezc }'(';•/•, 1843. 
 
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 Contents. 
 
 Introductory Notici': 
 
 Chai'. I. — .State of llit! I'lir Trade of tlie Rocky 
 Mountains — Atiieiicai^ ICiiterprises — (ieneral 
 Ashley ami his Associates— Sublette, a I'ain- 
 ous Leader — Yearly Rendezvous anionjf the 
 Mountains — Stnitagems and Dangers of the 
 Trade — Hands of Trapijcrs — Indian Banditti 
 — Crows and Blai vfeet— Mountaineers— Trad- 
 ers of the Par West—Character and Habits 
 of the Traj)per I 
 
 Chap. II. — Departure from I'ort Osaj^e — Modes 
 of Transportation — I'.ick Horses — Wagons — 
 Walker and Ccrrc ; their Characters — Buoyant 
 Fcelinj^s on Launchiiif^ upon the Prairies — 
 Wild Ivciuipmcnts of the Trajjpers — Their 
 Gambols and Antics — Difi'erence of Character 
 between the American and I'Vcnch Trappers 
 — Aj^ency of the Kansas- (icneral Clarke — 
 White Plume, the Kansas Chief— N'ifjht .Scene 
 in a Trader's Camp— CoUocjuy between White 
 Plume and the Captain — Bee-hunters — Their 
 Expeditions — Their T'eutls with the Indians 
 — Bargaining Talent of White Plume . . 15 
 
 VOL.1, ?., XV 
 
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 1^. 
 
 ^4.-. 
 
 
 XVI 
 
 Contents 
 
 2S 
 
 Chai'. III.— \Vi(U' rrairicH—Vcf,'i'table Productions 
 — Tahiiliir Hills Slal)s of Saiulstoiie — N'l'- 
 braska or I'lalli- Kivir— Scaiily I'aru — HulTalo 
 Skulls— Wagons Tunii-d into Hoats — Herds of 
 Ihiiralo ClilTs Kt'SitnhliuK Castles — The 
 CliimiU'V Scott's Uliiffs — Stor\- Connected 
 with Them -The nij,diorn or Ahsahta, — Its 
 Nature and Habits — I'ilference between that 
 and the " Woolly Sheep," or Ooat of the 
 Mountains 
 
 Chai'. IV. -.\ii .Mann - Crow Indians — Their Ap- 
 pearance — Moile ol .\pi)roa(h— Their Venge- 
 ful blrrand— 'I'hcir Cnriosity— Hostility be- 
 tween the Crows and lil.ickfeet — Lovinj; 
 Coiiilnct of the Crows — harainie's I'ork — I'irst 
 Navinalion of the Nebraska — Great Elevation 
 of the Conntry — Rarity of the Atnios])here — 
 Its I'llfcct on the \Voo<l-work of WaLjons— 
 lilack Hills Their Wilil and Hroken Scenery 
 
 — Indian Do^s --Crow Tro])liies — Sterile and 
 Dri'ary Country-- Hanks of the Sweet Water 
 
 — Ituffalo Huiitin).; — .Adventure of Tom Cain, 
 
 the Iiish Cook 39 
 
 CnAi'. V. MaijiMficent Scenery — Witul River 
 Mountains ■ Treasury of Waters — A .Stray 
 Horse .\ii Iiidiiin Trail— Trout vStreains— 
 The ('ill at Crni'ii River Valley— .\n Alarm — 
 A Hand of Trappets I'ontenelle, his Infor- 
 mation SufTi'rin^^s of Thirst -Ivncampuient 
 on the Seeds-ke dii — Slrate^;y of Rival Trad- 
 ers - I^'ortifa'at ion of the Camp — The P>lackfeet 
 
 — Manditii of the Mountains — Their Character 
 and H.il<its . . . , . 
 
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 Contciita 
 
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 PAOE 
 
 CliAP. VI. — Sublette and his Band — Robert 
 Canipl)ell— Mr. Wveth and a Hand of" Down- 
 casters " — Yankee Enterprise— Fitzpatrick — 
 His Adventure with the lUackfeet — A Rendez- 
 vous of IMounlainecrs — The Rattle of Pierre's 
 Hole — An Indian Ambuscade — Sublette's 
 Return . , 68 
 
 Chap. VII.— Retreat of the Hlackfeet— Fonte- 
 nelle's Camp in Danj^er — Captain nonneville 
 and the Black feet — I'ree Trappers — Their 
 Character, Habits, Dress, Iveiuipmcnts, Horses 
 — (lame Fellows of the Mountains — Their 
 \isit to the Camp — Good I'ellowsLip and 
 Good Cheer — A C;irouse— A Swagger, a Brawl, 
 and a Reconciliation ..... 89 
 
 CiiM'. VIII.— Plans for the Winter— Salmon River 
 — Abundance of .Salmon West of the Moun- 
 tains — New Arrangements— Cachf's — Cerre's 
 Detachment — Movements in I'ontenelle's 
 Camp — Departure of the Blackfeet — Their 
 Fortunes— Wind Mountain Streams — Buck- 
 eye, the Delaware Hunter, and the Grizzly 
 Bear — Bones of Murdered Trav.."iLrK— Visit to 
 Pierre's Hole — Traces of the Battle — Nez 
 Perce Indians— Arrival at Salmon River . 98 
 
 Chap. IX.— Horses Turned Loose — Preparations 
 for Winter Quarters — Hungry Times — Nez 
 Perces, their Honesty, Piety, PaVific Habits, 
 Religious Ceremonies— Captain Bonneville's 
 Conversation wiih Them — Their Love of 
 Gambling 
 
 
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 Ch.vp. X.— Blackfcet in the Horse Prairie — Search 
 after the Hunters — DilTiculties and Dangers 
 —A Canl Party in the WiUlerness— The Card 
 Party Interrupted — " Ohl Sledije," a Losing 
 Game — Visitors to the Catnp — Iroquois Hunt- 
 ers — Hanging-Kared Indians . . . . iiS 
 
 CnAi". XI. — Rival Trapping Parties — Manceuvring 
 — A Desperate Game — Vanderburgh and the 
 Bhickfeet — Deserted Camp I'ires — A Dark 
 Defde — An Indian Ambush--A I'icrce Melee 
 — Patal Consequences — IMtzpatrick and 
 Rridger — Trappers' Precautions — Meeting 
 with the Black feet — Jlore Fighting — 
 Anecdote of a Voung Mexican and an Indian 
 Girl 125 
 
 Chap XII. — A Winter Camp in the Wilderness — 
 Medley of Trappers, Hunters, and Indians — 
 Scarcity of tiame — New Arrangements in the 
 Camp — Detachments Sent to a Distance — 
 Carelessness of the Indians when Kncamped 
 — Sickness among the Indians — Kxcellent 
 Character of the Nez Perces — The Captain's 
 RfTort as a Pacificator — A Nez Percti's Argu- 
 ment in I'avor of War — Robberies by the 
 Hlackfeet — Long-vSuflcring of the Xez Perces 
 — A Hunter's I".lysium among the Mountains 
 — More Robberies — The Captain Preaches uj) 
 a Crusade — The IvfTect upon his Hearers 
 
 Chap. XIII. — Story of Kosato, the Renegade 
 
 Blackfoot 152 
 
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 125 
 
 135 
 
 • 152 
 
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 }f^r 
 
 
 Contente 
 
 Chap. XIV. — The Party Enters the Mountain 
 Gorge — A Wild Fastness among the Hills — 
 Mountain Mutton— Peace and Plenty — The 
 Amorous Trapper — A Piebald Wedding — A 
 Free Trapper's Wife — Her (iala Equipments 
 — Christmas in the Wilderness 
 
 XIX 
 
 PACiE 
 
 158 
 
 Chap. XV. — A Hunt after Hunters — Hungry 
 Times — A Voracious Repast — Wintry 
 Weather — Oodin's River — vSplendid Winter 
 Scene on the Great Lava Plain of Snake River 
 — Severe Travelling and Tramping in the 
 Snow — Manoeuvres of a Solitary Indian Horse- 
 man — Encampment on Snake River — Ban- 
 neck Indians — The Horse Chief — His 
 Charmed Life 167 
 
 Chap. XVI. — Misadventures of Matthieu and His 
 Party — Return to the Caches at Salmon River 
 — Battle between Nez Perces and Blackfeet — 
 Heroism of a Nez Perc^ Woman — Enrolled 
 among the Braves 181 
 
 Chap. XVII. — Opening of the Caches — Detach- 
 ment of Cerre and Ilodgkiss— Salmon River 
 Mountains — Superstition of an Indian Trap- 
 per — Godin's River — Preparations for Trap- 
 ping — An .\larm — .\n Interruption — A Rival 
 Band — Phenomena of Snake River Plain — 
 Vast Clefts and Chasms— Ingulfed .Streams — 
 Sublime Scenery — A Grand Buffalo Hunt . 191 
 
 Chap. XVIII.— Meeting with Ilodgkiss— Misfor- 
 tunes of the Nez Perces — Schemes of Kosato, 
 the Renegado — His Foray into the Horse 
 
 l''/C 
 
 ""uT.tx? ^ ' '" I " 
 
 -''•SMHBPWIWBK^ -JR^j*- 
 
 «i*.«wairp-:??sssg?. 
 
"^^y^^^^r^^f^: ^^^y-j.^^^^ ^ 
 
 Contents 
 
 Prairie — Invasion of Blackfeel — Dlue John, 
 and his I'orlorn Hope — Their Generous 
 Ivnlerprise— Their Fate — Consternalion and 
 Despair of the Village— Solemn Obse(iuies — 
 Attempt at Indian Trade — Hudson's Bay 
 Company's Monopoly — Arrant^emeiits for 
 Autumn — Hreakinj^ up of an ICncampment . 
 
 Chai*. XIX. — Precautions in Danj^erous Defdes 
 — Trappers' Mode of Defense on a Prairie — 
 A Mysterious Visitor — Arrival in Green 
 River Valley — Adveniures of the Detach- 
 ments — The I'orlorn Partisan -His Tale of 
 Disasters 216 
 
 Chap. XX. -Gatherinj; in Green River Valley— 
 Visitiuj^s and l'eastin.i;s of lA'aders— Rou.i^h 
 Wassailinjj amou}.; the Trapi)ers — Wild Blades 
 of the Mountains -Indian Belles — Potency of 
 I{rit,dit Beads and Red Blankets— Arrival of 
 .Supplies —Revel. and Ivxtravajjance — Mad 
 Wolves^The Lost Indian .... 226 
 
 CitAi*. XXI. — Schemes of Captain Bonneville — 
 The Great Salt Lake — Ivxpedition to Kxplore 
 it — Preparations for a Jouruej- to the 
 Bi}.;horn 232 
 
 Chai'. XXII. —The Crow Country — A Crow- 
 Paradise — Habits of the Crows — Anecdotes 
 of Rose, the Renejjade White Man — His 
 Pi}.;lits with the Blackfeet — His Klevation 
 — His Death — Arapooish, the Crow Chief — 
 His Eagle— Adventure of Robert Campbell 
 — Honor amoui.; Crows ..... 239 
 
 aUMa 
 
'■d^'' 
 
 kv 
 
 
 AWi 
 
 Contents 
 
 XXl 
 
 Cl 
 
 ;ap. XXIII.— Departure from Green River 
 Viillej — Popo Agiu — Its Course — The Rivers 
 into whirh it Runs— Scenery of the Bluffs — 
 Tlie Great Tar Spriiij^ — Volcanic Tracts in 
 the Crow Country — Hurninjf Mountain of 
 row<k'r River — Sulphur Sprinj;s — Hidden 
 Tires— Colter's Hell— Wind River— Camp- 
 bell's Party— I'itzpatrick and his Trappers — 
 Captain Stewart, an Amateur Traveller — 
 Nathaniel Wyeth — Anecdotes of his Expedi- 
 tion to the Par West— Disaster of Campbell's 
 Party— A I'uion of Hands — The Bad Pass — 
 The Rapids — Departure of I'itzpatrick — Ivm- 
 barkation of Peltries — Wyeth and his Bull 
 Boat — Adventures of Captain Bonneville in 
 the Bij^horn Mountains — Adventures in the 
 Plain— Traces of Indians — Travellinj^ Precau- 
 tions — Dangers of Making a Smoke — The 
 Rendezvous 
 
 Chap. XXIV.— Adventures of the Party of Ten 
 — Tlie Balaamite Mule— A Dead Point— Tlie 
 Mysterious KIks— A N'ight Attack— A Retreat 
 — Travelling rnder an Alarm — ^A Joyful 
 Meeting — Adventures of the Other Party — A 
 Decoy VAk — Retreat to an Island — A Savage 
 Dance of Triumph — Arrival at Wind River , 
 
 Chap. XXV.— Captain Bonneville Sets Out for 
 Green River Valley — ^Journey up the Popo 
 Agie — Buffaloes — The Staring White Bears — 
 The Smoke— The Wartn .Springs — Attempt to 
 Traverse the Wind River Mountains — The 
 Great Slope— Mountain Dells and Chasms — 
 
 250 
 
 264 
 
 D 
 
 i% 
 
 U 
 
 1! 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
 M 
 
 i 
 
 'I 
 
 41 
 
 <l 
 
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 :--/',»««!W«WIM»JI»«K^..».™ 
 

 XXll 
 
 Contents 
 
 u 
 
 <'. 
 
 ^'' 
 
 ic 
 
 •^,'1 
 
 t' 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Crystal Lakes — Ascent of a Snowy Peak — 
 Sublime Prospect — A Panorama — " Les 
 Dij,nies do Pitie," or Wild Men of the Moun- 
 tains 272 
 
 Chai'. XXVI.— a Retrograde jNIove— Channel of 
 a Mountain Torrent — Alpine Scenery — Cas- 
 cades — Beaver Valleys — Beavers at Work — 
 Their Architecture — Their Modes of F"elling 
 Trees — Mode of Trapping Beaver — Contests 
 of vSkill- A Beaver "Up to Trap"— Arrival 
 at the GrLcn River Caches .... 
 
 Chap. XXVII.— Route Towards Wind River— 284 
 Dangerous Neighborhood — Alarms and Pre- 
 cautions — A Sham Kncampment — Apjiarition 
 of an Indian vSpy — Jlidnight Move — .V Moun- 
 tain Defile— The Wind River Valley— Track- 
 ing a Part}' — Deserted Camj)s — Symptoms of 
 Crows — Meeting of Comrades — A Trapper 
 Entrapped — Crow Pleasantry — Crow Spies — 
 A Decampment — Return to Green River 
 Valley — Meeting with I'itzpatrick's Party — 
 Their Adventures among the Crows — Ortho- 
 dox Crows 294 
 
 Chap. XXVIII.— A Region of Natural Curiosities 
 —The Plain of White Clay— Hot Springs— 
 The Beer .Spring— Departure to Seek the Free 
 Trappers — Plaiti of Portneuf— Lava — Chasms 
 and Gullies— Banneck Indians — Their Hunt 
 of the Buffalo — Hunters' Feast — Trencher 
 Heroes — Bullying of an Absent l^oe — The 
 Damp Comrade — The Indian Spy — Meeting 
 with Hodgkiss — His Adventures — Poordevil 
 
 !t!^> 
 
 ^^ 
 
 0. 
 
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 272 
 
 294 
 
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 v: 
 
 
 
 IFIlustratlons. 
 
 PAGE 
 \,'} INDIAN WARRIOR ATTACKED I3V GRIZZLY BRARS 
 
 ^ l''ro>itispicce 
 
 Redrawn by W. J. Wilson from an old wood-cut. 
 
 FORT VANCOUVICR, AUOUT 1833 .... 4 
 
 Based on a .sketch made during a Co%-ernment 
 Survey. 
 
 AN INDIAN AGENCY ON THIC MISSOURI RIVER . 22 
 
 I'"rom an old eiiRraving. 
 
 VIEW NEAR THE NORTH FORK OF THE NE- 
 BRASKA RIVER 30 
 
 Based on a skctcli made during a Ciovernnient 
 Survey. 
 
 HEAD OF WHITE GOAT (WOOIJA* SIIi:i;i') . . 40 
 
 From a drawing by J. Carter Heard. 
 
 THE WIND RIVER MOUNTAINS .... 56 
 Steel enKravini^. 
 
 
 THE HUNTING I'RAIKIIv OF THIC I'lCND-ORIICM.FS 
 
 INDIANS 122 
 
 Based iiu a sketch made during a Government 
 burvey. 
 
 XXV 
 
 c 
 
 (1 
 
 I 
 
 u 
 
 ( 
 
 !!) 
 
 ill 
 
s^ 
 
 
 mty^.^^'^ 
 
 irilustrations. 
 
 V. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INDIANS CROSSING A RIVER TO A TRADING POST 1 72 
 
 From an old lithograph. 
 
 £. 
 
 '> 
 
 WAR D\NCE OF THE BANNECK INDIANS 
 
 From an old engraving. 
 
 HEROISM OF A WOMAN OF THE NEZ PERCYS 
 
 From a drawing by F. S. Church. 
 
 The edge OF THE LAVA BEDS 
 
 Redrawn from a photograph. 
 
 THE ARTEMESIA * 
 
 T82 
 
 I THE PUNCH BOWI, * 
 
 254 
 
 310 
 
 314 
 
 '^i "AFTER SKVI:RAI, days TR.WEI. inc CAME TO 
 i A) A PART OF THE RIVER WHICH FII.I.ED HIM 
 
 . fX/j WITH ASTONISHMENT AND ADMIRATION " . 328 
 
 V ~jtZ' From a drawing bv Heiuj indham. 
 
 kh ■ 
 
 • From oriRinal photograph.s, by permi-ssion of The Photo- 
 chrom Company, Detroit, Michigan, 
 
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 •"^^s 
 
 '-.J^ 
 
 u-> 
 
 THE ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 
 
 
 Chapter II. 
 
 State of the Fur Trade of the Rocky Mountains — 
 American Eiiteri)riscs — General Ashley and his As- 
 liociates— Sublette, a I'anious Leader — Yearly Ren- 
 dezvous ainon}.j the Mountains — Stratagems and 
 Dangers of the Trade — Hands of Trappers — Indian 
 Banditti— Crows and lUackfeet — Mountaineers — 
 Traders of the I'ar West — Character and Habits of 
 the Trapper. 
 
 IN a recent work we have given an account 
 of the gratul enterprise of Mr. John Jacob 
 Astor, to establish an American einpt)riiim 
 for the fur trade at llie mouth of theCohnnbia, 
 or Oregon River ; of the faiUire of that enter- 
 pri.se through the capture of Astoria by the 
 
 ■- Vol. I. 
 
 J^>M 
 
! i 
 
 h^sj: ^• 
 
 Ai>-^' 
 
 2 JQoiincvlKc'd BOvcntures 
 
 British, in 1H14 , and of the way in which tl e 
 control of the trade of the Columbia and its 
 depeiulcncies fell into the hands of the North- 
 west Company. We liave stated, likewise, the 
 unfortunate supineness of the American gov- 
 ernment, in nej,decting the application of Mr. 
 Astor for the i)n)tection of the American flag, 
 and a small military force, to enable him to 
 reinstate him.self in the possession of Astoria 
 at the return of peace ; when the post was 
 ^jL>^ formally j^iveii up by the Ikitish government, 
 kUv) . though .still occujMed by the Northwest Com- 
 pany. By that supineness the sovereignty of 
 the country has been virtually lost to the United 
 States ; and it will cost both governments much 
 trouble and difficidty to .settle matters on that 
 just and rightful footing, on which they would 
 readily have been placed, had the proposition 
 of Mr. Aslor been attended to. We shall now 
 state a few ])articulars of subsequent events, so 
 as to le.'id the reader up to the period of which 
 we are about to treat, and to prepare him for 
 the circumslMiices of our narrative. 
 
 In conse(|ueMce of the apathy and neglect 
 of the American government, Mr. Astor aban- 
 dimed all thoughts of regaining Astoria, and 
 I'.iade no fiullur .attempt to extend his enter- 
 prises beyond tlie Kocky Mountains ; and the 
 Northwest Company considered themselves 
 
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 jf ur ^ra^e of tbc IRoch^ A^ountains 
 
 the lords of the country. They did not long 
 enjoy unmolested the sway which they had 
 somewhat surreptitiously attained. A fierce 
 competition ensued between them and their 
 old rivals, the Hudson's Bay Company ; which 
 was carried on at great cost and sacrifice, and 
 occasionally with the loss of life. It ended in 
 the ruin of most of the partners of the North- 
 west Company ; and the merging of the relics 
 of tliat establishment, in 1821, in the rival as- 
 sociation. From that time, the Hudson's Bay 
 Companj' enjoj'ed a monopoly of the Indian 
 trade from the coast of the Pacific to the 
 Rocky Mountains, and for a considerable ex- 
 tent north and south. They removed their 
 emporium from Astoria to Fort Vancouver, a 
 .strong post on the left bank of the Columljia 
 River, about sixty miles from its mouth ; 
 whence they furnished their interior posts, 
 and .sent forth their brigades of trappers. 
 
 The Rocky Mountains formed a vast barrier 
 between them and the United States, and their 
 stern and awful defiles, their rugged valleys, 
 and the great western plains watered by their 
 rivers, remained almost a terra iiuvi^niia to the 
 American trapper. The difiiculties experienced 
 in 1808, by Mr. Henry of the Missouri Com- 
 pany, the first American who trapped upon the 
 head-waters of the Columbia ; and the fright- 
 
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 JBonncville's Bdvcnturcd 
 
 fill hardships sustained by Wilson P. Hunt, 
 Ramsay Crooks, Robert Stuart, and other in- 
 trepid Astorians, in their ill-fated expeditions 
 across the mountains, appeared for a time to 
 check all further enterprise in that direction. 
 The American traders contented themselves 
 with following up the head brandies of the 
 Missouri, the Yellowstone, and other rivers 
 and streams on the Atlantic side of the moun- 
 tains, but forebore to attempt those great snow- 
 crowned sierras. 
 
 One of the first to revive these tramontane 
 expeditions was General Ashley, of Missouri, 
 a man whose courage and achievements in the 
 prosecution of his enterprises, have rendered 
 him famous in the Far West. In conjunction 
 with Mr. Henry, already mentioned, he estab- 
 lished a post on the banks of the Yellowstone 
 River, in 1822, and in the following year 
 pushed a resolute band of trappers across the 
 mcmntains to the banks of the Green River or 
 Colorado of the West, often known by the 
 Indian name of the Seeds-ke-dee Agie.* This 
 attempt was followed up and sustained by 
 others, until in 1825 a footing was secured, and 
 a complete system of trapping organized be- 
 yond the mountains. 
 
 * /. c, the Prairie Hen River. Agie in the Crow 
 language signifies river. 
 
 t.^ m 
 
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 pioneers of tbc jFur Cradc 
 
 It is difficult to do justice to the courage, 
 fortitude, and perseverance of the pioneers of 
 the fur trade, who conducted these early expe- 
 ditions, and first broke their way through a 
 wilderness where everything was calculated to 
 deter av \ dismay them. They had to traverse 
 the most dreary and desolate mountains, and 
 barren and trackless wastes, uninhabited by 
 man, or occasionally infested by predatory and 
 cruel savages. The\- knew nothing of the 
 country beyond the verge of their horizon, and 
 had to gather information as they wandered. 
 They beheld volcanic plains .stretching around 
 them, and ranges of mountains piled up to the 
 clouds, and glistening with eternal frost ; but 
 knew nothing of their defiles, nor how they 
 were to be penetrated or traversed. They 
 launched themselves in frail canoes on rivers, 
 without knowing whither their swift currents 
 would carry them, or what rocks, and shoals, 
 and rapids they might encounter in their 
 course. They had to be continuallj' on the 
 alert, too, against the mountain tribes, who be- 
 set every defde, laid ambuscades in their path, 
 or attacked them in their night encampments ; 
 so that, of the hardy bands of trappers that 
 first entered into these regions, three fifths are 
 said to have fallen by the hands of savage foes. 
 
 In this wild and warlike school a number of 
 
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 ^JEJft*ti*»^^X— *•■ 
 
 ''\ 
 
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 6 JOonncvillc'a BDventurcs 
 
 leaders have sprung up, originally in the em- 
 ploy, subsequently partners of Ashley ; among 
 these we may mention vSmilh, Fitzjiatrick, 
 Britlger, Robert Campbell, and William Sub- 
 lette ; whose adventures and exploits partake 
 of the wildest spirit of romance. The associa- 
 tion commenced by General Ashley underwent 
 various modifications. That gentleman having 
 acquired sufficient fortune, sold out his interest 
 and retired ; and the leading spirit that suc- 
 ceeded him was Captain William Sublette ; a 
 man worthy of note, as his name has Ijecome 
 renowned in frontier story. He is a native of 
 Kentucky, and of game descent ; his maternal 
 grandfather, Colonel Wheatley, a companion 
 of Boon, having been one of the pioneers of 
 the West, celebrated in Indian warfare, and 
 killed in one of the contests of the " Bloody 
 Ground." We shall frequently have occasion 
 to speak of this vSublette. and always to the 
 credit of his game qualities. In 1S30, the asso- 
 ciation took the name of the Rocky Mountain 
 Fur Conqiany, of which Capt;iin vSublette and 
 Robert Canqibell were prominent members, 
 
 In the meantime, the success of this com- 
 pany attracted the attention and excited the 
 emulation of tlie American Fur Comi)any, and 
 brf)ught them once more into the fieUl of their 
 ancient enterprise. Mr. Astor, the founder of 
 
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 the association, had retired from busy life, and 
 the concerns of the company were ably man- 
 aged by Mr. Ramsay Crooks, of Snake River 
 renown, who still officiated as its president. A 
 competition immediately ensued between the 
 two companies, for the trade with the moun- 
 tain tribes, and the trapping of the head- 
 waters of the Columbia, and the other great 
 tributaries of the Pacific. Beside the regular 
 operations of these formidable rivals, there have 
 been from time to time desultory enterprises, 
 or rather experiments, of minor as.sociations, 
 or of adventunjus individuals, besides roving 
 bands of independent trappers, who either 
 hunt for themselves, or engage for a single 
 season, in the service of one or other of the 
 main companies. 
 
 The consecpience is, that the Rocky Moun- 
 tains and the iillerior regions, from the Russian 
 possessions in the north, down to the Spanish 
 settlements of California, have been traversed 
 and ransacked in every direction bj- bands of 
 hunters and Indian traders ; so that there is 
 scarcely a mountain pass, or defile, that is not 
 known and threaded in their restless migra- 
 tions, nor a nameless stream that is not haunted 
 by the lonely trapj)er. 
 
 The American fur cotnpanies keep no estab- 
 lished post beyond the mountains. ICverything 
 
 rmritiii — '" 
 
 
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 :fiJoiincviUc'5 BC>v>cntures 
 
 there is regulated hy resident partners ; that is 
 to say, partners who reside in the tramontane 
 countrj-, hut who move ahout from place to 
 j)lace, either with Indian tribes, whose traffic 
 they wish to monopolize, or with main bodies 
 of their own men, whom they employ in trad- 
 ing and trapping. In the meantime, they de- 
 tach bands, or " brigades " as they are termed, 
 of trappers in various directions, assigning to 
 each a portion of country as a hunting, or 
 trapping ground. In the months of June or 
 July, when there is an interval between the 
 huntirig seasons, a general rendezvous is held, 
 at some designated place in the mountains, 
 where the affairs of the past year are settled by 
 the resident partners, and the plans for the 
 following year arranged. 
 
 To this rendezvous repair the various brig- 
 ades of trappers from their v.'idely separated 
 hunting grounds, bringing in the product of 
 their year's campaign. Hither also repair the 
 Indian tribes accustomed to traffic their peltries 
 with the company. Bands of free trappers 
 re.sor'; hither also, to sell the furs they have 
 collected ; or to engage their services for the 
 next hunting season. 
 
 To this rendezvous the companj' .sends annu- 
 ally a convoy of supplies from its establisment 
 (m the Atlantic frontier, under the guidance of 
 
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^ 
 
 1: 
 
 <S^S 
 
 II- 
 
 
 
 Ucarlg 1RcnOc3VOUS 
 
 some experienced partner or officer. On the 
 arrival of this convoy, the resident partner at 
 the rendezvous depends, to set all his next 
 year's machinery in motion. 
 
 Now as the rival companies keep a vigilant 
 eye upon each otlier, and are anxious to dis- 
 cover each otlier' s plans and movements, the\- 
 generally contrive to hold their annual as.sem- 
 blages at no great distance apart. An eager 
 competition exists also between their respec- 
 tive convoys of supplies, which shall first reach 
 its place of rende/.vous. For this purpose, they 
 set off with the first appearance of grass on the 
 Atlantic frontier, and push with all diligence 
 for the mountains. The company that can first 
 open its tempting supplies of coffee, tobacco, 
 ammunition, .scarlet cloth, blankets, bright 
 shawls, and glittering trinkets, has the great- 
 est chance to get all the peltries and furs of the 
 Indians and free trappers, and to engage their 
 services for the next .seasoti. It is al)le, also, 
 to fit out and despatch, its own trappers the 
 .soonest, so as to get the start of its competitors, 
 and to have the first dash into the hunting and 
 trapping grounds. 
 
 A new species of .strategy has .spnuig out of 
 this hunting and trapping comjietition. The 
 con.stant study of the rival bands is to forestall 
 and outwit each other ; to .supplant each other 
 
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 JBonncvillc'a aPvciUure»5 
 
 in the good-will and custom of tlie Indian tribes ; 
 to cross each other's plans ; to mislead each 
 other as to routes ; in a word, next to his own 
 advantage, the study of the Indian trader is 
 the disadvantage of his competitor. 
 
 The influx of this wandering trade has had 
 its effects on the habits of the mountain tribes. 
 They have found the trapping of the beaver 
 their most profitable species of hunting ; and 
 the traffic with the white man has opened to 
 them .sources of luxury of which they previously 
 had no idea. The introduction of fire-arms 
 has rendered them more successful hunters, 
 but at the same time more formidable foes ; 
 some of them, incorrigibly .savage and warlike 
 in their nature, have found the expeditions of 
 the fur traders grar.d ol)jects of profitable ad- 
 venture. To waylay and harass a band of 
 trajipers with their pack-horses, when eniL. 
 rassed in the rugged defiles of the mountains, 
 has become as favorite an exjiloil with these 
 Indians as the plunder of a caravan to the Arab 
 of the desert. The Crows and Black feet, who I) 
 were such terrors in the ])ath of the early ad- 
 venturers to Astoria, .still continue their preda- 
 tory habits, but seem to have brought them to 
 greater system. They know the routes and 
 resorts of the trappers ; where to waylay them 
 on their journeys; where to find them in the 
 
 
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 hunting seasons, and where to hover about 
 them in winter quarters. Tlie life of a tnpper, 
 therefore, is a perpetual state militant, and he 
 nuist sleep with his weapons in his hands. 
 
 A new order of trai)pers and traders, also, 
 has grown out of this system of things. 
 In the old times of the great Northwest Com- 
 pany, when the trade in furs was pursued 
 chiefly about the lakes and rivers, the expedi- 
 tions were carried on in batteaux and canoes. 
 The voyai^furs or boatmen were the rank and 
 fde in the service of the trader, and even the 
 hardy " men of the norlh," those great rufilers 
 and game birds, were fain to be paddled from 
 point to point of their migrations. 
 
 A totally different class has now sprung up ; 
 — the "Mountaineers," the traders and trajv 
 pcrs that scale the »ast mountain chains, and 
 pursue their hazardous vocations amidst their 
 wild recesses. They move fn)m place to place 
 on horseback. The ecpiestrian exercises, there- 
 fore, in which they are engaged, the nature of 
 the countries they traverse, vast plains and 
 numntains, pure and exhilarating in atmos- 
 pheric (jualities, seem to make them jdiysically 
 and mentally a more lively and mercurial race 
 than the fur traders antl trappers t)f former 
 days, the self-vaunting " men of the north." 
 A man who bestrides a horse, nuist be essen- 
 
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 tially (lifTcri'iit finiii ;i man who cowers iii a 
 canoe. We fitid them, accordingly, hardy, 
 hthe, vijjforoMs, and active ; extra vai^jant in 
 word, in tliought, and deed ; lieedless ot" hard- 
 sliij) ; d.'iring of <l;inger; jjrodigal of the pres- 
 ent, and thoughtless of the future. 
 
 A difiercMice is to he i)erceived even between 
 these mountain liiuiters and those of the lower 
 regions along the waters of the Missouri. The 
 latter, generally iMench Creoles, live comfort- 
 ably in cabins and log-huts, well sheltered from 
 the inclem(.'n("ies of the seasons. They are 
 within the reai'h of fretjuent supplies from the 
 settlements; their lile is comparatively free 
 N^ from danger, and from most of the vicissitudes 
 of the upper wildirness. The consequence is, 
 that thev are less hardy, self-dependent, and 
 g.'une-spirited than the mountaineer. If the 
 latter by ch.ance come among them on his way 
 to and from the settlements, he is like a game- 
 cock among the common roo.stersof the poultry- 
 yard. Accustomed to live in tents, or to bivouac 
 in the open air, he (les])ises the comforts and is 
 imi)atient of the confinement of the log-house 
 If his nie;d is not ready in season, he takes hi.s 
 rifle, hies to the forest or prairie, shoots Jiis 
 own game, lights his fire, and cooks his repast. 
 With his horse and his rifle, he is independent 
 of the world, and spurns at all its re.straints. 
 
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 Civ.iactcr of tbc Crappcr 
 
 13 
 
 The very superintendents at the lower posts 
 will not pnt him to mess with thecommon men, 
 the hirelings of the establishment, but treat 
 him as something superior. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no class of men on the face 
 of the earth, says Captain Bonneville, who lead 
 a life of more continued exertion, peril, and 
 excitement, and who are more enamoured of 
 their occupations, than the free trappers of the 
 West. No toil, no danger, no privation can 
 turn the trapper from his pursuit. His pas- 
 sionate excitement at times resembles a mania. 
 In vain may the most vigilant and cruel .savages 
 beset his path ; in vain may rocks, and preci- 
 pices, and wintry torrents oppose his progre.ss ; 
 but let a single track of beaver meet his eye, 
 and he forgets all dangers and defies all diffi- 
 culties. At times he may be .seen with his 
 traps on hi,-; shoulder, buffeting his way across 
 rapid streams, amidst floating blocks of ice : 
 '^^1 at other times, he is to be found with his traps 
 _A-^ swung on his back clambering the most rug- 
 ■"' ged mountains, .scaling or descending the most 
 frightful pre'Mpices, .searching, by routes inac- 
 cessible to the horse, and never before trodden 
 by white man, for springs and lakes unknown 
 to his comrades, and where he may meet with 
 his favorite game. Such is the mountaineer, 
 the hardy trapper of the West ; and such, as 
 
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 :]ISonneviIlc'd BDvcnturcd 
 
 we have slightly sketched it, is the wild, Robin 
 , ^ , . Hood kind of life, with all its strange and 
 
 ^^^,lc motley populace, now existing in full vigor 
 
 (■'j^ i< among the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 Having thus given the reader some idea of 
 the actual state of the fur trade in the interior 
 of our vast continent, and made him acquainted 
 with the wild chivalry of the mountains, we 
 will no longer delay the introduction of Captain 
 Bonneville and his band into this field of their 
 enterprise, but launch them at once upor the 
 perilous plains of the Far West. 
 
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 Cbaptcr 1I1F. 
 
 Departure from Fort Osajre — Modes of Transportation 
 — Pack-horses — Wa.yons — Walker aiul Ccrrd ; their 
 Characters — Buoyant T'eelin^s on Launching upon 
 the Prairies — Wihl Kquipnients of 'he Trajjpers- 
 Their Gam hols and Antics — Difference of Character 
 Between the American and French Trappers — 
 Agency of the Kansas — General Clarke — White 
 Plume, the Kansas Chief— Night Sce;ie in Trader's 
 Camp — Colloquy between White Plume and the 
 Captain — Bee Hunters — Their Expeditions — Their 
 Feuds with the Indians — Bargaining Talent of 
 White Plume. 
 
 IT was on the first of May, 1832, that Captain 
 Bonneville took his departure from the 
 frontier post of Fort Osage, on the Mis- 
 sonri. He had enlisted a party of one lunulred 
 and ten men, most of whom had been in the 
 Indian country, and some of whom were ex- 
 perienced hunters and trappers. Fort Osacje, 
 and other places on the borders of the western 
 wilderness, abound with characters of the 
 kind, ready for any expedition. 
 
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 The ordinary mode of transportation in these 
 great inhind cxpechtionsof the fur traders is on 
 mules and pack-horses ; but Captain Bomieville 
 sul)stituled wagons. Though he was to travel 
 through a trackless wilderness, yet tlie greater 
 part of his route would lie across t)pen plains, 
 destitute of forests, and where wheel carriages 
 can pass in every direction. The chief diffi- 
 culty occurs in passing the deep ravines cut 
 through the prairies bj- streams and winter 
 torrents. Here it is often necessary to dig a 
 road down the banks, and to make bridges lor 
 the wagons. 
 
 In transporting his baggage in vehicles of 
 this kind, Captain Bomieville thought he would 
 .save the great delay caused every morning by 
 packing the horses, and the labor of unpack- 
 ing in the evening. Fewer horses also winild 
 be recjuired, and le.ss risk incurred of their 
 wandering away, or being frightened or carried 
 off by the Indians. The wagons, al.so, would 
 be more easily defended, and might form a 
 kind of fortification in case of attack in the 
 open prairies. A train of twenty wagons, 
 drawn by oxen, or by four mules or horses 
 each, and laden with merchandi.se, ammunition, 
 and ])rovisioiis, were di.sposed in two coUnnns 
 in the centre of the party, which was ecpially 
 divided into a van and a rear-guard. As sub- 
 
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 17 
 
 leaders or lieutenants in his expedition, Cap- 
 tain Bonneville had made choice of Mr. I. R. 
 Walker and Mr. M. S. Cerre. The former was 
 a native of Tennessee, about six feet high, 
 strong built, dark complexioned, brave in 
 spirit, though mild in maimers. He had re- 
 sided for many years in Missouri, on the fron- 
 tier ; had been among the earliest adventurers 
 to Santa Ke, where he went to trap beaver, 
 and was taken by the Spaniards. Being liber- 
 ated, lie engaged with the Spaniards and Sioux 
 Indians in a war against the Pawnees ; then 
 returned to Missouri, and had acted by turns 
 as .sheriff, trader, trapper, until he was enlisted 
 as a leader by Captain Bonneville. 
 
 Cerre, his other leader, had likewise been in 
 expeditions to Santa Fe, in which he had 
 endured much hard.ship. He was of the mid- 
 dle size, light complexioned, and though but 
 about twenty-five years of age, was con.sidered 
 an experienced Indian trader. It was a great 
 object with Captain Bonneville to get to the 
 mountains before the .summer heats and sum- 
 mer flies .should render the travelling across 
 the prairies distressing ; and before the annual 
 assemblages of people connected with the fur 
 trade, should have broken up, and dispersed to 
 the hunting grounds. 
 
 The two rival associations already mentioned, 
 
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 the American Fur Company and the Rocky 
 Mountain Fur Company, had their several 
 places of rendezvous for the present year at no 
 great distance apart, in Pierre's Hole, a deep 
 valley in the heart of the mountains, and 
 thither Captain Bonneville intended to shape 
 his course. 
 
 It is not easy to do justice to the exulting 
 feelings of the worthy captain, at finding him- 
 self at the licad of a stout band of hunters, 
 trappers, a.m\ woodmen ; fairly launched on 
 the broad in airies, with his face to the bound- 
 less \\''cst. Tlie tamest iidiabitant of cities, 
 the veriest spoiled child of civilization, feels 
 his heart dilate and his pulse beat high, on 
 finding himself on horseback in the glorious 
 wilderness ; what then must be the excitement 
 of one whose imagi'iation had been stimulated 
 b}' a resid^!!ce ■ ■ the frontier, and to whom 
 the wildfcuis ss w.i.«! a region of romance ! 
 
 His hardy followe> i partook of his excite- 
 ment. Most ()*" them had already experienced 
 the wild freedom of sava;;;; life, and looked 
 forward to a renewal oi past scenes of adven- 
 ture and exploit. Their very appearance and 
 equipment exhibited a piebald mixture, half 
 civilized and half savage. Many of them 
 looked more like Indians than white men, in 
 their garbs and accoutrements, and their very 
 
 
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 horses were caparisoned in barbaric style, with 
 fantastic trappings. The outset of a band of 
 adventurers in one of these expeditions is al- 
 ways animated and joyous. The welkin rang 
 with their shouts and yelps, after the maimer 
 of the savages ; and with boi.sterous jokes and 
 light-hearted laughter. As they passed the 
 straggling hamlets and solitarj' cabins that 
 fringe the skirts of the frontier, they would 
 startle their inmates by Indian yells and war- 
 whoops, or regale them with grotesque feats of 
 horsemanship, well suited to their half-savage 
 appearance. Most of these abodes were in- 
 habited l)y men who had themselves been in 
 similar expeditions ; they welcomed the trav- 
 ellers, therefore, as brother trappers, treated 
 them with a hunter's hospitality, and cheered 
 them with an honest God si)eed, at parting. 
 
 And here we would remark a great differ- 
 ence, in point of character and quality, between 
 the two classes of trappers, the "American" 
 and " French," as they are called in contradis- 
 tinction. The latter is meant to designate the 
 French creole of Canada or Louisiana ; the 
 former, the trapper of the old American stock, 
 from Kentucky, Tennessee, and others of the 
 Western States, The French trapper is repre- 
 sented as a lighter, .softer, more self-indulgent 
 kind of man. He must have his Indian wife. 
 
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 JBonneviUe'6 Bdventurca 
 
 his lodge, and his petty conveniences. He is 
 gay and thoughtless, takes little heed of land- 
 marks, depends upon his leaders and compan- 
 ions to think for the coniraoti weal, and, if left 
 to himself, is easily perplexed and lost. 
 
 The American trapper stands by himself, and 
 is peerless for the service of the wilderness. 
 Drop him in the midst of a prairie, or in the 
 heart of the mountains, and he is never at a 
 loss. He notices every landmark ; can retrace 
 his route through the most monotonous plains, 
 or the most perplexed labyrinths of the moun- 
 tains ; no danger nor diffif ulty can appall him, 
 and he scorns to complain under any privation. 
 In equipping the two kinds of trappers, the 
 Creole and Canadian are apt to prefer the light 
 fusee ; the American always grasps his rifle ; 
 he despises what he calls the " shot-gun." We 
 give these estimates on the authority of a trader 
 of long experience, and a foreigner by birth. 
 "I consider one American," said he, "equal 
 to three Canadians in point of sagacity, apt- 
 ness at resources, self-dependence, and fearless- 
 ness of spirit. In fact, no one can cope with 
 him as a stark tramper of the wilderness." 
 
 Beside the two classes of trappers just men- 
 tioned, Captain Bonneville had enlisted several 
 Delawa: • Indians in his employ, on whose 
 hunting qualifications he placed great reliance. 
 
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 On the 6th of May the travellers passed the 
 last border habitation, and bade a long farewell 
 to the ease and security of civilization. The 
 buoyant and clamorous spirits with which they 
 had commenced their march, gradually sub- 
 sided as they entered upon its difficulties. They 
 found the prairies saturated with the heavy 
 cold rains, prevalent in certain seasons of the 
 year in this part of the countrj-, the wagon 
 wheels sank deep in the mire, the horses were 
 often to the fetlock, and both steed and rider 
 were completely jaded bj' the evening of the 
 1 2th, when they reached the Kansas River ; a 
 fine stream about three hundred yards wide, 
 entering the Missouri from the .south. Though 
 fordable in almo.st every part at the end of 
 sunnner and during the autumn, yet it was 
 necessary to construct a raft for the transporta- 
 tion of the wagons and effects. All this was 
 done in thecour.se of the following day, and by 
 evening, the whole party arrived at the agency 
 of the Kansas tril)e. This was under the 
 superintendence of General Clarke, brother of 
 the celebrated traveller of the same name, who, 
 with Lewis, made the first expedition down the 
 waters of the Columl)ia. He was living like a 
 patriarch, surroiuuled by lal)orers and inter- 
 preters, all snugly housed, and provi<led with 
 excellent u rms. The functionary next in con- 
 
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 sequence to the agent was the blacksmith, a 
 most important, and, indeed, indispensable per- 
 sonage in a f'rontitr community. The Kansas 
 resemble the Osaj/es in features, dress, and 
 language ; .lie}' raise corn and hunt the buf- 
 falo, ranging the Kansas River, and its tribu- 
 tary streams ; at the time of the captain's 
 visit, they were at war with the Pawnees of 
 the Nebraska, or Platte River. 
 
 The innisual sight of a train of wagons, 
 caused quite a sensation among these savages ; 
 who thronged about the caravan, examining 
 ever}" thing minutely, and asking a thousand 
 questions r exhibiting a degree of excitability, 
 and a lively curiosity, totally opposite to that 
 apathy with which their race is so often re- 
 proached. 
 
 The personage who most attracted the cap- 
 tain's attention at this place, was " White 
 Plume," the Kansas chief, and they .soon be- 
 came good friends. White Plume (we are 
 pleased with his chivalrous soiil'ritjiwt) inhabi- 
 ted a large stone house, built for him by order 
 of the American government ; but the estab- 
 lishment had not been carried out in corre- 
 sponding .style. It might be ])alace without, 
 but it was wigwam within : .so that, between 
 the .stateliness of his man.sion, and the squalid- 
 ness of his furniture, the gallant White Plume 
 
 
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 23 
 
 presented some such whimsical incongruity as 
 we see in the gala equipments of an Indian 
 chief, on a treaty-making embassy at Washing- 
 ton, who has been generously decked out in 
 cocked hat and military coat, in contrast to his 
 l)reecli-clout and leathern leggings ; being 
 grand officer at top, and ragged Indian at 
 bottom. 
 
 White Plume was so taken with the courtesy 
 of the captain, and pleased with one or two 
 presents received from him, that he accompa- 
 nied him a day's journey on his march, and 
 passed a night in his camp, on the margin of 
 a small stream. The method of encamping 
 generally observed by the captain, was as fol- 
 lows : The twenty wagons were disposed in a 
 .square, at the distance of thirty-three feet from 
 each other. In every interval there was a mess 
 stationed ; and each mess had its fire, 'here 
 the men cooked, ate, go.ssiped, and slept. The 
 horses were placed in the centre of the square, 
 with a guard stationed over them at night. 
 
 The horses were " side-lined," as it is termed: 
 that is to say, the fore and hind foot on the same 
 side of the animal were tied together, so as to 
 be within eighteen inches of each other. A 
 horse thus fettered is for a time sadly embar- 
 rassed, but soon becomes sufficiently accus- 
 tomed to the restraint to move about slowly. 
 
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 :iBonneviUe'd BDventuces 
 
 It prevents his wandering ; and his being easily 
 carried off at night by lurking Indians. When 
 a horse that is " foot free," is tied to one thus 
 secured, the latter forms, as it were, a pivot, 
 round which the other runs and curvets, in case 
 of alarm. 
 
 The encampment of which we are speaking, 
 presented a striking .scene. The various mess- 
 fires were surrounded by picturesque groups, 
 standing, sitting, and reclining ; some busied 
 in cooking, others in cleaning their weapons : 
 while the frequent laugh told that the rough 
 joke, or merry story was go ng on. In the 
 middle of the camp, before the principal lodge, 
 sat the two chieftains, Captain Bonneville and 
 White Plume, in .soldier-like communion, the 
 captain delighted with the opportunitj- of meet- 
 ing, on social terms, with one of the red war- 
 riors of the wilderness, the unsophisticated 
 children of nature. The latter was squatted 
 on his buffalo robe, his strong features and red 
 .skin glaring in the broad light of a blazing 
 fire, while he recounted astounding tales of the 
 bloody exploits of his tribe and himself, in 
 their wars with the Pawnees ; for there are no 
 soldiers more given to long campaigning stories 
 than Indian ' ' braves. ' ' 
 
 The feuds of White Plume, however, had 
 not been confined to the red men ; he had 
 
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 much to say of brushes with bee hunters, a 
 class of oflfenders for whom he seemed to cher- 
 ish a particular abhorrence. As the species of 
 hunting prosecuted by these worthies is not 
 laid down in any of the ancient books of ven- 
 erie, and is, in fact, peculiar to our western 
 frontier, a word or two on the subject may not 
 be unacceptable to the reader. 
 
 The bee hunter is generally some .settler on 
 the verge of the prairie ; a long, lank fellow, 
 of fever and ague complexion, acquired from 
 living on new soil, and in a hut built of green 
 logs. In the autumn, when the harvest is over, 
 the.se frontier .settlers form parties of two or 
 three, and prepare for a bee hunt. Having 
 provided themselves with a wagon, and a num- 
 ber of empty casks, they sally off, armed with 
 their rifles, into the wilderness, directing their 
 course east, west, north, or south, without any 
 regard to the ordinance of the American gov- 
 ernment, which strictlj- forbids all trespass upon 
 the lands belonging to the Indian tribes. 
 
 The belts of woodland that traverse the lower 
 prairies, and border the rivers, are peopled by 
 iiniumerable swarms of wild bees, which make 
 their hives in hollow trees, and fill them with 
 honey tolled from the rich flowers of the prai- 
 ries. The bees, according to popular a.ssertion, 
 are migrating, like the settlers, to the west. 
 
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 An Indian trader, well experienced in the 
 country, informs us that within ten years that 
 he has passed in the Far West, the bee has 
 advanced westward above a hundred miles. It 
 is said on the Missouri, that tlie wild turkey 
 and the wild bee go up the river together : 
 neither are found in the upper regiotis. It is 
 but recently that the wild turkey has been 
 killed on the Nebraska, or Platte ; and his 
 y^ travelling competitor, the wild bee, appeared 
 there about the same time. 
 
 Be all this as it may : the course of our party 
 of bee hunters, is to make a wide circuit through 
 the woody river bottoms, and the patches of 
 forest on the prairies, marking, as they go out, 
 every tree in which they have detected a hive. 
 These marks are generally respected by any 
 other bee hunter that should come upon their 
 track. When they have marked sufficient to 
 fill all their ca.sks, they turn their faces home- 
 ward, cut down the trees as they proceed, and 
 having loaded their wagon with honey and 
 wax, return well plea.sed to the .settlements. 
 
 Now it .so haj)pens that the Indians relish 
 wild honey as highly as do the white men, and 
 are the more delighted with this natural lux- 
 ury from its having, in many instances, but 
 recently made its appearance in their lands. 
 The consequence is, numberless disputes and 
 
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 CraOtng ITalcnt of XLlbttc plume 
 
 conflicts between them and the bee hnnters : 
 and often a party of the ! ttter, returning, laden 
 with rich spoil, from one of their forays, are 
 apt to be waylaid by the native lords of the 
 soil ; their honey to be seized, their harness cut 
 to i)ieces, and themselves left to find their way 
 home the best way they can, happy to escape 
 with no greater personal harm than a .sound 
 rib-roasting. 
 
 Such were the marauders of whose offenses 
 the gallant White Plume made the mo.st bitter 
 complaint. They were chiefly the .settlers of 
 the western part of Missouri, who are the mo.st 
 famous bee hunters on the frontier, and whose 
 favorite hunting ground lies within tlie lands 
 of the Kansas tribe. According to the account 
 of White Phnne, however, matters were pretty 
 fairly balanced between him and the offenders ; 
 he having as often treated them to a taste of the 
 bitter, as they had robbed him of the .sweets. 
 
 It is but ju.stice to this gallant chief to say, 
 that he gave ])roofs of having acquired .some 
 of the lights of civilization from his proximity 
 to the whites, as was evinced in his knowledge 
 of driving a bargain. He required hard ca.sh 
 in return for some corn with which he supplied 
 the worthy captain, and left the latter at a loss 
 which most to admire, his native chivalry as a 
 brave, or his acquired adroitness as a trader. 
 
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 Gbaptcr 1f1F1I. 
 
 Wide Prairies — Vegetable Productions — Tabular Hills 
 — Slabs of Sandstone — Nebraska or Platte River — 
 Scanty Pare — Buffalo Skulls — Wagons Turned into 
 Boats — Herds of Buffalo — Cliffs Resembling Castles 
 —The Chimney— vScott's Bluffs— Story Connected 
 with them — The Bighorn or Ahsabta — Its Nature and 
 Habits — Difference between that and the "Woolly 
 Sheep," or Goat of the Mountains. 
 
 FROM the middle to the end of May, Cap- 
 tain Bonneville pursued a western course 
 over vast, undulating plains, destitute 
 of tree or shrub, rendered miry by occasional 
 rain, and cut up by deep water-courses, where 
 they had to dig roads for their wagons down 
 the soft crumi)ling banks, and to throw l)ridges 
 across the streams. The weather liad attained 
 the summer heat ; the thermometer standing 
 about fifty-seven degrees in the morning, early, 
 but rising to about ninety degrees at noon. The 
 incessant breezes, however, which sweep these 
 va.st plains, render the heats endurable. Game 
 
 ^"■^^ 
 
 *--*•-• 
 
is i 
 
 l\\ 
 
 31 
 
 
 i 
 
 rr-^. 
 
 tabular t>illd 
 
 y::\ /^K 
 
 29 
 
 was scanty, and they had to eke out their 
 scanty fare with wild roots and vegetables, 
 such as the Indian potato, the wild onion, and 
 the prairie tomato, and they met with quan- 
 tities of "red root," from which the hunters 
 make a very palatable beverage. The only 
 lunnan being that crossed their path was a 
 Kansas warrior, returning from some solitary 
 expedition of bravado or revenge, bearing a 
 Pawnee scalp as a trophj-. 
 
 The country gradually rose as they proceeded 
 westward, and their route took them overhigh 
 ridges, commanding wide and beautiful pros- 
 pects. The vast plain was studded on the west 
 with iniumierable hills of conical .shape, such 
 as are seen north of the Arkansas River. These 
 hills have their summits apparently cut off 
 about the .same elevation, .so as to leave flat 
 surfaces at top. It is conjectured by .some, 
 that the whole country may originally have 
 been of the altitude of these tabular hills ; but 
 through some process of nature may have sunk 
 to its present level ; these insulated eminences 
 being protected by broad foundations of solid 
 rock. 
 
 Captain Bonneville mentions another geo- 
 logical phenomenon north of Red River, where 
 the surface of the earth, in considerable tracts 
 of country, is covered with broad slabs of sand- 
 
 i.--f 
 
 I' 1 w 
 
 ^H 
 
 Ai'j • • mi 
 
\ ! 
 
 k ' 
 
 
 
 ^&mMm^ 
 
 &j? 
 
 30 
 
 JBonnevtlU'd BDvcntured 
 
 stone, having the form and position of grave- 
 stones, and looking as if they had been forced 
 ^-^^.fT ^P ^y some subterranean agitation. "The 
 6^\ji resemblance," says he, "which these very 
 remarkable spots have in many places to old 
 church-yards is curious in the extreme. One 
 might almost fancy himself among the tombs 
 of the pre- Adamites." 
 
 On the 2d of June, they arrived on the main 
 stream of the Nebraska or Platte River ; twentj'- 
 five miles below the head of the Great Island. 
 **^0,^ • The low banks of this river give it an appear- 
 ance of great width. Captain Bonneville meas- 
 ured it in one place, and found it twenty-two 
 hundred yards from bank to bank. Its depth 
 was from three to six feet, the bottom full of 
 quicksands. The Nebraska is studded with 
 islands covered with that .species of poplar 
 called the cotton-wood tree. Keeping up along 
 the course of this river for .several days, they 
 were obliged, from the scarcity of game, to put 
 themselves upon .short allowance, and, occa- 
 .sionally, to kill a steer. They bore their daily 
 labors and privations, however, with great good 
 ^>R-td , humor, taking their tone, in all probability, 
 y vlf from the buoyant spirit of their leader. " If 
 the weather was inclement," says the captaiji, 
 " we watched the clouds, and hoped for a sight 
 of the blue sky and the merry sun. If food 
 
 V 
 
 ^jy. 
 
\\ 
 
 y 
 
 ''• t 
 
 11 
 
 n 
 
 Bo 
 
 > near the North Forh of the Ne- 
 h-aska Rivei-, 
 
 <i-ii\<ii (J ik<'t, li maJ,- 
 
 • iiiniii;- <i (,\>:ie))i)>i,tit Si, 
 
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 jforh of fiebrasha IRivcr 31 
 
 was scanty, we regaled ourselves with the hope 
 of soon falling in with herds of buffalo, and 
 having nothing to do but slay and eat." We 
 doubt whether the genial captain is not describ- 
 ing thecheeriness of his own ])reast, which gave 
 a cheery aspect to everything around him. 
 
 There certainly were evidences, however, 
 that the country was not always equally desti- 
 tute of game. At one place, they observed a 
 field decorated with buffalo skulls, arranged in 
 circles, curves, and other mathematical figures, 
 as if for some mystic rite or ceremony. Thej' 
 were almost iiniumerable, and seemed to have 
 been a vast hecatomb offered up in thanksgiv- 
 ing to the Great Spirit for some signal success 
 in the chase. 
 
 On the nth of June, they came to the fork 
 of the Nebraska, where it divides itself into 
 two equal and beautiful streams. One of these 
 branches rises in the west-soutluvest, near the 
 head-waters of the Arkansas. Up the course 
 of this branch, as Captain Homieville was well 
 aware, lay the route to tlu; Camanche and Kio- 
 way Indians, and to the northern Mexican set- 
 tlements ; of the other branch he knew nothing. 
 Its sources might lie among wild and inaccessi- 
 ble cliffs, and tumble and foam down rugged 
 defiles and over craggy precipices ; but its 
 direction was in the true course, and up this 
 
 cr>-^- 
 
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 — . "1 ' i' » ' m 
 
 *!«,. .^-•fc- V 
 
 ■r' ' 'I ".! ! ' 
 

 II 
 
 1 
 
 II 
 
 
 '"^■-^ij^S^r-" '^ '=' 
 
 
 ->i-^ 
 
 33 
 
 3Sonncvllle'd Zldvcntures 
 
 stream he determined to prosecute his route 
 to the Rocky Mountains. Finding it impos- 
 sible, from quicksands and other dangerous 
 impediments, to cross the river in this neigh- 
 borhood, lie kt'i)t UT> alonjj the south fork for 
 two days, mer:'* s-^ekiug a safe fording place. 
 At length he * ■ ..af c' caused the bodies of 
 the wagons to . disioi'^pd from the wheels, 
 covered with buffalo hide:-, 1 A besmeared with 
 a compound of tallow and ashes, thus forming 
 rude boats. In the.se, they ferried their effects 
 across the .stream, which was six hundred 
 yards wide, with a swift and strong current. 
 Three men were in each boat, to manage it ; 
 others waded across, pushing the barks before 
 them. Thus all crossed in safety. A march 
 of nine miles took them over high rolling prai- 
 ries to the north fork ; their eyes being regaled 
 with the welcome sight of herds of buffalo at a 
 distance, .some careering the plain, others graz- 
 ing and reposing in the natural meadows. 
 
 Skirting along the north fork for a day or 
 two, excessively ainioyed by musquitoes and 
 buffalo gnats, they reached, on the evening of 
 the 17th, a small but beautiful grove, from 
 which issued the confu.sed notes of singing 
 birds, the first they had heard since crossing the 
 boundary of Mi.s.souri. After .so many days of 
 weary travelling, through a naked, monoto- 
 
cm 
 
 'V. 
 
 nous, and si'ent country, it was delightful once 
 more to hear the song of the bird, and to be- 
 hold the verdure of the grove. It was a beau- 
 tiful sunset, and a sight of the glowing rays, 
 mantling the tree-tops and rustling branches, 
 gladdened every heart. They pitched theii 
 camp in the grove, kindled their fires, partook 
 merrily of their rude fare, resigned themselves 
 to the sweetest sleep they had enjoyed since 
 their outset upon the prairies. 
 
 The country now became rugged and broken. 
 High bluffs advanced upon the river, and 
 forced the travellers occasionally to leave its 
 banks and wind their course into the interior. 
 In one of the wild and solitary passes, they 
 were startled by the trail of four or five pedes- 
 trians, whom they supposed to be spies from 
 some predatory camp of either Arickara or 
 Crow Indians. This obliged them to redouble 
 their vigilance at night, and to keep especial 
 watch upon their horses. In these rugged and 
 elevated regions they began to see the black- 
 tailed deer, a species larger than the ordinary 
 kind, and chiefly found in rocky and moun- 
 tainous countries. They had reached also a 
 great buffalo range ; Captain Bonneville as- 
 cended a high bluff, commanding an extensive 
 view of the surrounding plains. As far as his 
 eye could reach, the country seemed absolutely 
 
 t n 
 
 > \ 
 
 t^&emaaiBsieieL. 
 
 A/i'i^ 
 
'> 
 
 34 
 
 JSoiiiicvilIe'0 BOventurcd 
 
 blackened by innumerable herds. No lan- 
 guage, he says, could convey an adequate idea 
 of the vast living mass thus presented to his 
 eye. He remarked that the bulls and cows 
 generally congregated in separate herds. 
 
 Opposite to the camp at this place was a sin- 
 gular phenomenon, which is among the curi- 
 osities of the country. It is called the Chimney. 
 The lower part is a conical mound, rising out 
 of the naked plain ; from the summit shoots up 
 a shaft or column, about one hundred and 
 twenty feet in height, from which it derives its 
 name. The height of the whole, according to 
 Captain Bonneville, is a hundred and seventy- 
 five yards. It is composed of indurated clay, 
 with alternate layers of red and white sand- 
 stone, and may be seen at the distance of 
 upwards of thirty miles. 
 
 On the 2 1st, they encamped amidst high and 
 beetling cliffs of indurated clay and sandstone, 
 bearing the semblance of towers, castles, 
 churches, and fortified cities. At a distance, 
 it was scarcely possible to persuade one's self 
 that the works of art were not mingled with 
 the.se fantastic freaks of nature. Tney have 
 received the name of Scott's Bluffs, from a 
 melancholy circumstance. A number of years 
 since, a party were descending the upper part of 
 the river in canoes, when their frail barks were 
 
 M^ 
 
 "<.' 
 
 
! ■ l\ 
 
 J 
 
 '■■) 
 
 
 '^0'' 
 
 overturned and all their powder spoiled. Their 
 rifles being thus rendered useless, they were un- 
 able to procure food by hunting, and had to de- 
 pend upon roots and wild fruits for subsistence. 
 After suffering extremely from hunger, they 
 arrived at Laramie's Fork, a. small tributary of 
 the north branch of the Nebraska, about sixty 
 miles above the cliffs just mentioned. Here 
 one of the party, by the name of Scott, was 
 taken ill ; and his companions came to a halt, 
 until he should recover health and strength 
 sufficient to proceed. While they were search- 
 ing round in quest of edible roots, they dis- 
 covered a fresh trail of white men, who had 
 evidently but recently preceded them. What 
 was to be done ? By a forced march they 
 might overtake this party, and thus be able to 
 reach the settlements in safety. Should they 
 linger, they might all perish of famine and 
 exhaustion. Scott, however, was incapable 
 of moving ; they were too feeble to aid him 
 forward, and dreaded that such a clog would 
 prevent their coming up with the advance 
 party. They determined, therefore, to aban- 
 don him to his fate. Accordingly, under pre- 
 tense of seeking food, and such simples as 
 might be efficacious in his malady, they de- 
 serted him and hastened forward upon the 
 trail. They succeeded in overtaking the party 
 
 -^ 
 
 M 
 
 hr 
 
 \ m 
 
 n 
 
 ^ \ 
 
 I 
 
 .,.;•/' 
 
l\v 
 
 '^.Jl 
 
 "^^J 
 
 36 
 
 :(Sonneville'0 BDvcntures 
 
 of which they were in quest, but concealed 
 their faithless desertion of Scott ; alleging that 
 he had died of disease. 
 
 On the ensuing summer, these very individ- 
 uals visiting these parts in company with 
 others, came suddenly upon the bleached bones 
 and grinning skull of a human skeleton, which, 
 by certain signs, they recognized for the re- 
 mains of Scott, This was sixty long miles 
 from the place where they had abandoned 
 him ; and it appeared that the wretched man 
 had crawled that immense distance before 
 death put an end to his miseries. The wild 
 and picturesque bluffs in the neighborhood of 
 his lonely grave have ever since bore his 
 name. 
 
 Amidst this wild and striking scenery. Cap- 
 tain Bonneville, for thefir.st time, beheld flocks 
 of the ahsahta or bighorn, an animal which 
 frequents the.se cliffs in great numbers. They 
 accord with the nature of such scenery, and 
 add much to its romantic effect ; bounding like 
 goats from crag to crag, often trooping along 
 the lofty slielves of the mountains, under the 
 guidance of some venerable patriarch, with 
 horns twisted lower than his muzzle, and some- 
 times peering over the edge of a precipice, so 
 high that they appear scarce bigger than crows ; 
 indeed, it seems a pleasure to them to seek the 
 
 
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 4> 
 
 .i,c.1^^ 
 
 € 
 
 -yl ^- 
 
,-v^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 Abountain Sbecp 
 
 most rugged and frightful situations, doubtless 
 from a feeling of securitj-. 
 
 This animal is commonly called the moun- 
 tain sheep, and is often confounded with an- 
 other animal, the " woolly sheep," found more 
 to the northward, about the country of the 
 Flatheads. The latter likewise inhabits clifiFs 
 in summer, but descends into the valleys in 
 the winter. It has white wool, like a sheep, 
 mingled with a thin growth of long hair ; but 
 it has short legs, a deep belly, and a beard like 
 a goat. Its horns are about five inches long, 
 slightly cur\-ed backwards, black as jet, and 
 beautifully polished. Its hoofs are of the same 
 color. This animal is by no means so active 
 as the bighorn ; it does not boutid much, but 
 sits a good deal upon its haunches. It is not 
 so plentiful either ; rarely more than two or 
 three are seen at a time. Its wool alone gives 
 a resemblance to the sheep ; it is more properly 
 of the goat genus. The flesh is .said to have a 
 musty flavor ; .some have thought the fleece 
 might be valuable, as it is said to be as fine as 
 that of the goat of Cashmere, but it is not to 
 be procured in sufficient quantities. 
 
 The ahsahta, argali, or bighorn, on the con- 
 trary, has short hair like a deer, and resembles 
 it in shape, but has the head and horns of a 
 sheep, aud its flesh is said to be a delicious 
 
 .jT-t-^ 
 
 cr%;-^ \;^ J^ix^*i-^- '^--^^^^ 
 
 m^^^^^F^) 
 
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 ■~SK" 
 
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 ,7^^-^ 
 
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 38 
 
 JSonneville'd BDventuree 
 
 mutton. The Indians consider it more sweet 
 and delicate than any other kind of venison. 
 It abounds in the Rocky Mountains, from the 
 fiftieth degree of north latitude, quite down to 
 California ; generally in the highest regions 
 capable of vegetation ; sometimes it ventures 
 into the valleys, but on the least alarm, regains 
 its favorite cliflfs and precipices, where it is 
 perilous, if not impossible for the hunter to 
 follow.^' 
 
 * Dimensions of a male of this species, from the nose 
 to the base of the tail, five feet ; length of the tail, 
 four inches ; girth of the body, four feet ; height, 
 three feet eight inches ; the horn, three feet six inches 
 long ; one foot three inches in circumference at base. 
 
 
 ^; 
 
 
 '^'r\ 
 
 
 ffTs 
 
 
 

 Cbapter W, 
 
 ■>.^:tir^- 
 
 V 
 
 ^<^«' 
 
 An Alarm — Crow Indians — Their Appearance — Mode 
 of Approach — Their Vengeful Errand — Their Curi- 
 osity — Hostility between the Crows and Blackfeet 
 — Loving Conduct of the Crows— Laramie's Fork — 
 First Navigation of the Nebraska — Great Elevation 
 of the Country — Rarity of the Atmosphere — Its Ef- 
 fect on the Wood- work of Wagons— Black Hills — 
 Their Wild and Broken Scenery — Indian Dogs — 
 Crow Trophies— Sterile and Dreary Country — 
 Banks of the Sweet Water — Buffalo Hunting — Ad- 
 venture of Tom Cain, the Irish Cook. 
 
 WHEN on the march, Captain Bonne- 
 ville always sent some of his best 
 hiniters in the advance to reconnoi- 
 tre the country, as well as to look out for 
 game. On the 24th of May, as the caravan 
 was slowly journeying up the banks of the 
 Nebraska, the hunters came galloping back, 
 waving their caps, and giving the alarm cry, 
 Indians ! Indians ! 
 
 The captain innnediately ordered a halt : the 
 
 39 
 
 A*J 
 
 -\fh Jiff M]i Ja^ns 
 
 
 li !l 
 
 
 ./ 
 
 i 
 
 III 
 
 ii<., «i 
 
 ....^'■. 
 
Mr 
 
 'i iv 40 asonneville's adventures 
 
 hunters now came up and announced that a 
 large war-party of Crow Indians were just 
 above, on the river. The captain knew the 
 character of these savages ; one of the most 
 roving, warlike, crafty, and predatory tribes of 
 the mountains ; horse- stealers of the first order, 
 and easily provoked to acts of sanguinary vio- 
 lence. Orders were accordingly given to pre- 
 pare for action, and every one promptly took 
 the po.st that had been assigned him, in the 
 general order of the march, in all cases of war- 
 like emergency. 
 
 Everything being put in battle array, the 
 captain took the lead of his little band, and 
 moved on slowly and warily. In a little while 
 he beheld the Crow warriors emerging from 
 among the bluffs. There were about sixty of 
 them ; fine martial-looking fellows, painted and 
 arrayed for war, and mounted on horses decked 
 out with all kinds of wild trappings. They 
 came prancing along in gallant style, with 
 many wild and dexterous evolutions, for none 
 can surpa.ss them in horsemanship ; and their 
 bright colors, and flaunting and fantastic em- 
 bellishments, glaring and sparkling in the 
 morning sunshine, gave them really a striking 
 appearance. 
 
 Their mode of approach to one not acquainted 
 with the tactics and ceremonies of this rude 
 
 '-^,m\ 
 
 ■^^-IL" 
 
 -^i«><- 
 
Head of White Goat ( Woolly Sheep). 
 
 Fi\>»i a JidKiini; /'V J. Cart,r Hetini. 
 
 % 
 
 i 
 
 ' i. i 
 
llQU^tn*- 
 
 . 
 
 / 
 
 ^:^*-4R- 
 
I^af4*r» 
 
 M^ .4 
 
 %^if.% 
 
 s 
 
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 >ir:ii 
 
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 B Dcn(tc(ul £rranD 
 
 41 
 
 chivalry of the wilderness, had an air of direct 
 hostility. They came galloping forward in a 
 body, as if about to make a furious charge, 
 but, when close at hand, opened to the right 
 and left, and wheeled in wide circles round the 
 travellers, whooping and yelling like maniacs. 
 
 This done, their mock fury sank into a calm, 
 and the chief, approaching the captain, who 
 had remained warily drawn up, though in- 
 formed of the pacific nature of the manceuvre, 
 extended to him the hand of friendship. The 
 pipe of peace was smoked, and now all was 
 good fellowship. 
 
 The Crows were in pursuit of a band of 
 Cheyennes, who had attacked their village iti 
 the niglit, and killed one of their people. 
 They had already been five and twenty days 
 on the track of the marauders, and were deter- 
 mined not to return home until they had sated 
 their revenge. 
 
 A few days previously, some of their scouts, 
 wlio were ranging the country at a distance 
 from the main body, had discovered the party 
 of Captain Bonneville. They had dogged it 
 for a time in .secret, astonished at the long 
 traiti of wagons and oxen, and especially struck 
 with tlie sight of a cow and calf, quietly follow- 
 ing the caravan ; supposing them to be some 
 kind of tame bufl"alo. Having satisfied their 
 
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 ) I 
 
 t ■ 
 
 !, V 
 
 I ' 
 
 «r II 
 
 I 
 
 .■■'■i:yii 
 
■ 
 
 ^^^^7^.vJ^-^ 
 
 rr^^:^ r7\ ^^^..i^:' ^M: 
 
 'li>' 
 
 43 
 
 JBonncvillc'a Bdventures 
 
 curiosity, tbt'y carried back to their chief intel- 
 ligence of all that they had seen. He had, in 
 consequence, diverged from his pursuit of ven- 
 geance to behold the wonders described to him. 
 ' ' Now that we have met you, ' ' said he to Cap- 
 tain Botnieville, "and have seen these marvels 
 with our own eyes, our hearts are glad." In 
 fact, nothing could exceed the curiosity evinced 
 by these people as to the objects before them. 
 Wagons had never been seen b\ them before, 
 and they examined them with the greatest 
 minuteness ; but the calf was the peculiar 
 object of their admiration. They watched it 
 with intense interest as it licked the hands 
 accustomed to feed it, and were struck with 
 the mild expression of its countenance and its 
 perfect docility. 
 
 After nmch sage consultation, they at length 
 determined that it must be the "great medi- 
 cine " of the white party, an appellation given 
 by the Indians to anything of supernatural 
 and .'ysterions power, that is guarded as a 
 talisur.n. They were completely thrown out 
 in Iheir conjecture, however, by an offer of the 
 wliile men to exchange t)ie calf for a horse ; 
 their estimation of the great medicine sank in 
 an instant, and they declined the bargain. 
 
 At the re(piest of the Crow chieftaiti the two 
 parties encan\ped together, and pas.sed the resi- 
 
 ">.• 
 
 Q 
 
 . \\\ 
 
 ''%y' N. 
 
 r'^ 
 
,^ 
 
 I-.- 
 
 Enmity? ot tbe Crows anD JBlachfcet 
 
 due of the day in company. The captain was 
 well pleased with every opportunity to gain a 
 knowledge of the " unsophisticated sons of 
 nature," who had so long been objects of his 
 poetic speculations ; and indeed this wild, 
 horse-stealing tribe is one of the most notori- 
 ous of the mountains. The chief, of course, 
 had his scalps to show and his battles to re- 
 count. The Blackfoot is the hereditary enemy 
 of the Crow, towards whom hostility is like a 
 cherished principle of religion ; for every tribe, 
 besides its casual antagonists, has some endur- 
 ing foe with whom there can be no permanent 
 reconciliation. The Crows and Blackfeet, upon 
 the whole, are enemies worthy of each other, 
 being rogues and ruffians of the first water. 
 As their predatory excursions extend over the 
 same regions, they often come in contact with 
 each other, atid these casual conflicts serve to 
 keep their wits awake and their passions 
 alive. 
 
 Thcpresentparty of Crows, however, evinced 
 nothing of the invidious character for which 
 they are renowned. During the day and night 
 that they were encamped in company with the 
 travellers, their conduct was f'. ;endly in the 
 extreme. They were, in fact, quite irksome 
 in their attentions, and had a caressing man- 
 
 ner at times quite nuportunate. 
 
 It was not 
 
 i 
 
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 ■^•~>-.;- 
 
 '«v./ 
 
 44 
 
 -iIC.J., .-*"■<" 
 
 :iSonncville'6 Bdventurcs 
 
 until after separation on the following morn- 
 ing, that the captain and his men ascertained 
 the secret of all this loving-kindness. In the 
 course of their fraternal carcases, the Crows 
 had contrived to empty the pockets of their 
 white brothers ; to abstract the very buttons 
 from their coats, and, above all, to make free 
 with their hunting knives. 
 
 By equal altitudes of the sun, taken at this 
 last encampment. Captain Bonneville ascer- 
 tained his latitude to be 41° 47' north. The 
 thermometer, at .six o'clock in the morning, 
 stood at fifty-nine degrees ; at two o'clock 
 P. M., at ninety-two degrees ; and at six o'clock 
 in the evening, at seventy degrees. 
 
 The Black Hills, or Mountains, now began 
 to be seen at a distance, printing the horizon 
 with their rugged and broken outlines, and 
 threatening to oppose a difficult barrier in the 
 way of the travellers. 
 
 On the 26th of May, the travellers encamped 
 at Laramie's Fork, a clear and beautiful stream, 
 rising in the west-southwest, maintaining an 
 average width of twenty yards, and winding 
 through broad meadows abounding in currants 
 and gooseberries, and adorned with groves and 
 clumps of trees. 
 
 By an observation of Jupiter's satellites, 
 with a Dolland reflecting telescope, Captain 
 
 ;; /» 
 
 •0"^^(7 
 
 
 w»i- -. ^■ft'in 
 
■ '-■ ."-* 
 
 ■k 
 
 W 
 
 -r~?i. 
 
 rr^fC- /r~-,i^r''^^ -c^'V*tv*~\ rM'-"^' 
 
 -^ - 
 
 K- 
 
 1.' 
 
 artOitg of tbe atmogpbcrc 
 
 45 
 
 , • y Bonneville ascertained the longitude to be 102° 
 57' west of Greenwich, 
 
 We will here step ahead of our narrative to 
 observe, that about three years after the time 
 of which we are treating, Mr. Robert Camp- 
 bell, formerly of the Rocky Mountain Fur 
 Company, descended the Platte from this fork, 
 in skin canoes, thus proving, what had always 
 been discredited, that the river was navigable. 
 About the same time, he built a fort or trading 
 post at Laramie's Fork, which he named Fort 
 William, after his friend and partner, Mr. Wil- 
 liam .Sublette. Since that time, the Platte has 
 become a highway for the fur traders. 
 
 For some days past, Captain Bonneville had 
 been made sensible of the great elevation of 
 country into which he was gradually ascend- 
 ing, by the eflFect of the dryness and rarefac- 
 tion of the atmosphere upon his wagons. The 
 wood-work shrunk ; the paint boxes of the 
 wheels were continually working out, and it 
 was necessary to support the spokes by stout 
 props to prevent their falling asunder. The 
 travellers were now entering one of those great 
 steppes of the Far West, where the prevalent 
 aridity of the atmosphere renders the country 
 unfit for cultivation. In these regions there is 
 a fresh sweet growth of grass in the spring, but 
 it is scanty and short, and parches up in the 
 
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 23 WIST MAIN STRUT 
 
 WMSTIR,N.Y. 14S80 
 
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 3Boimeville'0 Bdventured 
 
 course of the summer, so that there is none for 
 the hunters to set fire to in the autumn. It is 
 a common observation, that " above the forks 
 of the Platte the grass does not burn." All 
 attempts at agriculture and gardening in the 
 neighborhood of Fort William have been at- 
 tended with very little success. The grain 
 and vegetables raised there have been scanty 
 in quantity and poor in quality. The great 
 elevation of these plains, and the dryness of 
 the atmosphere, will tend to retain these im- 
 mense regions in a state of pristine wildness. 
 
 In the course of a day or two more, the trav- 
 ellers entered that wild and broken tract of the 
 Crow country called the Black Hills, and here 
 their journey became toilsome in the extreme. 
 Rugged steeps and deep ravines incessantly 
 obstructed their progress, so that a great part 
 of the day was spent in the painful toil of dig- 
 ging through banks, filling up ravines, forcing 
 the wagons up the most forbidding ascents, or 
 swinging them with ropes down the face of 
 dangerous precipices. The shoes of their 
 horses were worn out, and their feet it^jured 
 by the rugged and stony roads. The travel- 
 ler! \v Te annoyed also by frequent but brief 
 storms, which would come hurrying over the 
 hills, or through the mountain defiles, rage 
 with great fury for a short time, and then 
 
 ^: 
 
 2"^! 
 
(h 
 
 -^t 
 
 c) 
 
 i)~ir^^ 
 
 f ndtan Dogs 
 
 pass oflF, leaving everything calm and serene 
 again. 
 
 For several nights the camp had been in- 
 fested by vagabond Indian dogs, prowling 
 about in quest of food. They were about the 
 size of a large pointer ; with ears short and 
 erect, and a long bushy tail — altogether, they 
 bore a striking resemblance to a wolf. These 
 skulking visitors would keep about the pur- 
 lieus of the camp until daylight ; when, on the 
 first stir of life among the sleepers, they would 
 scamper off until they reached some rising 
 ground, where they would take their seats, 
 and keep a sharp and hungry watch upon 
 every movement. The moment the travellers 
 were fairly on the march, and the camp was 
 abandoned, these starveling hangers-on would 
 hasten to the deserted fires to seize upon the 
 half-picked bones, the offals and garbage that 
 lay about ; and, having made a hasty meal, 
 with many a snap and snarl and growl, would 
 follow leisurely on the trail of the caravan. 
 Many attempts were made to coax or catch 
 them, but in vain. Their quick and suspicious 
 eyes caught the slightest sinister movement, 
 and they turned and scampered off. At length 
 one was taken. He was terribly alarmed, and 
 crouched and trembled as if expecting instant 
 death. Soothed, however, by caresses, he be- 
 
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 > ■^^'^v 
 
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 ■^'^ 
 
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mm 
 
 mm 
 
 ■■ 
 
 ^^'&^ 
 
 JBonnevUIc'd BDventures 
 
 gan after a time to gather confidence and wag 
 his tail, and at length was brought to follow 
 close at the heels of his captors, still, however, 
 darting around furtive and suspicious glances, 
 and evincing a disposition to scamper oflf upon 
 the least alarm. 
 
 On the first of July the band of Crow war- 
 riors again crossed their path. They came in 
 vaunting and vain-glorious style ; displaying 
 five Cheyenne scalps, the trophies of their 
 vengeance. Thej'^ were now bound home 
 wards, to appease the manes of their comrade 
 by these proofs that his death had been re- 
 venged, and intended to have scalp-dances and 
 other triumphant rejoicings. Captain Bonne- 
 ville and his men, however, were by no means 
 disposed to renew their confiding intimacy with 
 these crafty savages, and above all, took care 
 to avoid their pilfering caresses. They re- 
 marked one precaution of the Crows with re- 
 spect to their horses ; to protect their hoofs 
 from the sharp and jagged rocks among which 
 they had to pass, they had covered them with 
 shoes of buflfalo hide. 
 
 The route of the travellers lay generally 
 along the course of the Nebraska or Platte, 
 but occasionally, where steep promontories ad- 
 vanced to the margin of the stream, they were 
 obliged to make inland circuits. On., of these 
 
■'^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 Si-* 
 
 
 -> 
 
 ■^^^u 
 
 powOer 'River Aountaine 
 
 took them through a bold and stern country, 
 bordered by a range of low mountains, running 
 east and west. Everything around bore traces 
 of some feai-ful convulsion of nature in times 
 long past. Hitherto the various strata of rock 
 had exhibited a gentle elevation towards the 
 southwest, but here everything appeared to 
 have been subverted, and thrown out of place. 
 In many places there were heavy beds of white 
 sandstone resting upon red. Immense strata 
 of rocks jutted up into crags and cliffs ; and 
 sometimes formed perpendicular walls and 
 overhanging precipices. An air of sterility 
 prevailed over these savage wastes. The val- 
 leys were destitute of herbage, and scantily 
 clothed with a stunted species of wormwood, 
 generally known among traders and trappers 
 by the name of sage. From an elevated point 
 of their march through this region, the travel- 
 lers caught a beautiful view of the Powder 
 River Mountains awav to the north, stretching 
 along the very verge o» .lie horizon, and seem- 
 ing, fron the snow with which they were 
 mantled, to be a chain of small white clouds, 
 connecting sky and earth. 
 
 Though th i thermometer at midday ranged 
 from eighty to ninety, and even sometimes rose 
 to niney-three degrees, yet occasional spots of 
 snow were to be seen on the tops of the low 
 
 i s^:£5gg*i 
 
 ' )j 
 
' 
 
 
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 A-f 
 
 ^ 
 
 h 
 
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 50 
 
 JBonnevtUe's Bdventurcs 
 
 mountains, among which the travellers were 
 journeying ; proofs of the great elevation of 
 the whole region. 
 
 The Nebraska, in its passage through the 
 Black Hills, is confined to a much narrower 
 channel than that through which it flows in 
 the plains below ; but it is deeper and clearer, 
 and rushes with a stronger current. The 
 scenery, also, is more varied and beautiful. 
 Sometimes it glides rapidly but smoothly 
 through a picturesque valley, between wooded 
 banks ; then, forcing its way into the bosom 
 of rugged mountains, it rushes impetuously 
 through narrow defiles, roaring and foaming 
 down rocks and rapids, until it is again soothed 
 to rest in some peaceful valley. 
 
 On the 1 2th of July, Captain Bonneville 
 abandoned the main stream cf the Nebraska, 
 whicli was continualh' shouldered by rugged 
 promontories, and making a bend to the .south- 
 west, for a couple of days, part of the time 
 over plains of loose sand, encamped on the 
 14th, or.' the banks of the Sweet Water, a 
 stream about twenty yards in breadth, and 
 four or five feet deep, flowing between low 
 banks over a sandy soil, and forming one of 
 the forks or upper branches of the Nebraska. 
 Up this stream they now shaped their course 
 for several successive days, tending generally. 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 Sc 
 
 m 
 
 1 1! 
 

 .'>> 
 
 m; 
 
 £levation of tbe Countc)? 
 
 to the west. The soil was light and sandy ; 
 the country much diversified. Frequently the 
 plains were studded with isolated blocks of 
 rock, sometimes in the shape of a half globe, 
 and from three to four hundred feet high. 
 These singular masses had occasionally a very 
 imposing, and even sublime appearance, rising 
 from the midst of a savage and lonely land- 
 scape. 
 
 As the travellers continued to advance, they 
 became more and more sensible of the eleva- 
 tion of the country. The hills around were 
 more generally capped with snow. The men 
 complained of cramps ^ tid colics, sore lips and 
 mouths, and violent neadaches. The wood- 
 work of the wagons also shrank so much, that 
 it was with difficulty the wheels were kept 
 from falling to pieces. The country bordering 
 upon the river was frequently gashed with 
 deep ravines, or traversed by high bluffs, to 
 avoid which, the travellers were obliged to 
 make wide circuits through the plains. In the 
 course of these, they came upon inmiense herds 
 of buffalo, which kept scouring off in the van, 
 like a retreating army. 
 
 Among the motley retainers of the camp was 
 Tom Cain, a raw Iri.shman, who officiated as 
 cook, whose various blunders and expedients 
 in his novel situation, and in the wild scenes 
 
 A\u.\\ 
 

 5?l 
 
 ym 
 
 XonneviHc'6 adventures 
 
 and wild kind of life into which he had sud- 
 denly been thrown, had made him a kind of 
 butt or droll of the camp. Tom, however, 
 began to discover an ambition superior to his 
 station ; and the conversation of the hunters, 
 and their stories of their exploits, inspired him 
 with a desire to elevate himself to the dignity 
 of their order. The buflFalo in such immense 
 droves presented a tempting opportunity. for 
 making his first essay. He rode, in the line of 
 march, all prepared for action : his powder- 
 flask and shot-pouch knowingly slung at the 
 pommel of his saddle, to be at hand ; his rifle 
 balanced on his shoulder. While in this plight, 
 a troop of buffalo came trotting by in great 
 alarm. In an instant, Tom sprang from his 
 horse and gave chase on foot. Finding th^y 
 were leaving him behind, he levelled his rifl"; 
 and pulled trigger. His shot produced no other 
 effect than to increase the speed of the buffalo, 
 and to frighten his own horse, who took to his 
 heels, and scampered off with all the ammuni- 
 tion. Tom scampered after him, hallooing with 
 might and main, and the wild horse and wild 
 Irishman soon disappeared among the ravines 
 of the prairie. Captain Bonneville, who was 
 at the head of the line, and had seen the trans- 
 action at a distance, detached a party in pur- 
 suit of Tom. After a long interval they 
 
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 cov 
 
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 •>^*' 
 
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 Zom Cain tbe Cook 
 
 53 
 
 returned, leading the frightened horse ; but 
 though they had scoured the country, and 
 looked out and shouted from every height, 
 they had seen nothing of his rider. 
 
 As Captain Bonneville knew Tom's utter 
 awkwardness and inexoericnce, and the dan- 
 gers of a bewildered i»ishman in the midst of 
 a prairie, he halted and encamped at an early 
 hour, that there might be a regular hunt for 
 him in the morning. 
 
 At early dawn on the following day scouts 
 were sent off in every direction, while the main 
 body, afte^ breakfast, proceeded slowly on its 
 course. It was not until the middle of the 
 afternoon that the hunters returned, with hon- 
 est Tom mounted behind one of them. They 
 had found him in a complete state of perplexity 
 and amazement. His appearance caused shouts 
 of merriment in the camp, — but Tom for once 
 could not join in the mirth raised at his ex- 
 pense : he was completely chapfallen, and ap- 
 parently cured of the hunting mania for the 
 rest of his life. 
 
 m 
 
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 >\ AL ii. 
 
 1 
 

 I f 
 
 H 
 
 I 
 
 1 - 
 
 ei 
 
 Cbapter D. 
 
 Magnificent Scenery — Wind River Mountains — Treas- 
 ury of Waters — A Stray Horse — An Indian Trail — 
 Trout Streams — The Great Green River Valley — An 
 Alarm — A Band of Trappers — Foutenelle, his In- 
 formation — SufiFerings of Thirst— Encampment on 
 the Seeds-ke-dee — Strategy of Rival Traders — For- 
 tification of the Camp— The Blackfeet — Banditti of 
 the Mountains — Their Character and Habits. 
 
 I 
 
 T was on the 20th of July that Captain 
 Bonneville first came in sight of the grand 
 region of his hopes and anticipations, the 
 Rocky Mountains. He had been making a 
 bend to the south, to avoid some obstacles 
 along the river, and had attained a high, rocky 
 ridge, when a magnificent prospect burst upon 
 his sight. To the west, rose the Wind River 
 Mountains, with their bleached and snowy 
 summits towering into the clouds. These 
 stretched far to the north-northwest, until they 
 melted away into what appeared to be faint 
 clouds, but which the experienced eyes of the 
 
 ^ 
 
 
t 
 
 ik 
 
 
 veteran hunters of the party recognized for the 
 rugged mountains of the Yellowstone ; at the 
 feet of which, extended the wild Crow country, 
 a perilous, though profitable region for the 
 trapper. 
 
 To the southwest, the eye ranged over an 
 immense extent of wilderness, with what ap- 
 peared to be a snowy vapor resting upon its 
 horizon. This, however, was pointed out as 
 another branch of the Great Chippewyan, or 
 Rocky chain ; being the Eutaw Mountains, at 
 whose basis the wandering tribes of hunters 
 of the same name pitch their tents. 
 
 We can imagine the enthus- .sm of the wor- 
 thy captain, when he beheld the vast and 
 mountainous scene of his adventurous enter- 
 prise thus suddenly unveiled before him. We 
 can imagine with what feelings of awe and ad- 
 miration he must have contemplated the Wind 
 River Sierra, or bed of mountains ; that great 
 fountain-head, from whose springs, and lakes, 
 and melted snows, some of those mighty rivers 
 take their rise, which wander over hundreds of 
 miles of varied country and clime, and find 
 their way to the opposite waves of the Atlantic 
 and the Pacific. 
 
 The Wind River Mountains are, in fact, 
 among the most remarkable of the whole Rocky 
 chain ; and would appear to be among the 
 
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 ^^^h#^w;f-rr— -^^^ 
 
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 XonncvHlc'6 BOventures 
 
 loftiest. They form, as it were, a great bed 
 of mountains, about eighty miles in length, 
 and from twenty to thirty in breadth ; with 
 rugged peaks, covered with eternal snows, and 
 deep, narrow valleys, full of springs, and 
 brooks, and rock-bound lakes. From this great 
 treasury of waters, issue forth limpid streams, 
 which, augmenting as thej' descend, become 
 main tributaries of the Missouri on the one side, 
 and the Columbia on the other ; and give rise 
 to the Seeds-ke-dee Agie, or Green River, the 
 great Colo, ado of the West, that empties its 
 current into the Gulf of California. 
 
 The Wind River Mountains are notorious in 
 hunters' and trappers' stories : their rugged de- 
 files, and the rough tracts about their neigh- 
 borhood, having been lurking-places for the 
 predatory hordes of the mountains, and scenes 
 of rough encounter with Crows and Blackfeet. 
 It was to the west of these mountains, in the 
 valley of the Seeds-ke-dee Agie, or Green 
 River, that Captain Bonneville intended to 
 make a halt, for the purpose of giving repose to 
 his people and his horses, after their weary 
 journeying ; and of collecting information as 
 to his future course. This Green River Valley 
 and its intermediate neighborhood, as we have 
 already observed, formed the main point of 
 rendezvous, for the present year, of the rival 
 
The Wind River Mountains. 
 
 Steel engiavitiii. 
 
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 iiipi i^iiiii mm 
 
erki 
 
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 B Stras fjorae 
 
 fur companies, and the motley populace, 
 civilized and savage, connected with them. 
 Several days of rugged travel, however, yet 
 remained for the captain and his men, before 
 they should encamp in this desired resting- 
 place. 
 
 On the 2ist of July, as they were pursuing 
 their course through one of the me&dows of 
 the Sweet Water, they beheld a horse grazing 
 at a little distance. He showed no alarm at 
 their approach, but suffered himself quietly to 
 be taken, evincing a perfect state of tameness. 
 The scouts of the party were instantly on the 
 lookout for the owners of this animal ; lest 
 some dangerous band of savages might be lurk- 
 ing in the vicinity. After a narrow search, 
 they discovered the trail of an Indian party, 
 which had evidently passed through that neigh- 
 borhood but recently. The horse was accord- 
 ingly taken possession of, as an estraj' ; but a 
 more vigilant watch than usual was kept round 
 the camps at nights, lest his former owners 
 should be upon the prowl. 
 
 The travellers had now attained so high an 
 elevation, that on the 23d of July, at daybreak, 
 there was considerable ice in the water-buckets, 
 and the thermometer stood at twenty-two de- 
 grees. The rarity of the atmosphere continued 
 to affect the wood-work of the wagons, and 
 
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 ^^^t-i^mmrKmm^smsf^' 
 
 
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 Tn. 
 
 
 58 
 
 JSonncvtllc's BOvcnturee 
 
 the wheels were incessantly falling to pieces. A 
 remedy was at length devised. The tire of 
 each wheel was taken off ; a band of wood was 
 nailed round the exterior of the felloes, the tire 
 was then made red hot, replaced rounc' the 
 wheel, and suddenly cooled with water. By 
 this means, the whole was bound together with 
 great compactness. 
 
 The extreme elevation of these great steppes, 
 which range along the feet of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains, takes away from the seeming height of 
 their peaks, which yield to few in the known 
 world in point of ailitude above the level of the 
 sea. 
 
 On the 24th, the travellers took final leave of 
 the Sweet Water, and keeping westwardly, over 
 a low and very rocky ridge, one of the most 
 southern spurs of the Wind River Mountains, 
 they encamped, after a march of seven hours 
 and a half, on the banks of a small clear stream, 
 running to the south, in which they caught a 
 number of fine trout. 
 
 The sight of these fish was hailed with pleas- 
 ure, as a sign that they had reached the waters 
 which flow into the Pacific ; for it is onlj' on 
 the western streams of the Rocky Mountains 
 that trout are to be taken. The stream on 
 which they had thus encamped, proved, in 
 effect, to be tributary to the Seeds-ke-dee Agie, 
 
 4 
 
 ;-^^ /? 
 
 :SJ\^X 
 
 ■r'-i - ,^" ws"*,*.^ 
 
t 
 
 Green Hivev Ualle^ 
 
 or Green River, into which it flowed, at some 
 distance to the south. 
 
 Captain Bonneville now considered himself 
 as having fairly passed the crest of the Rocky 
 Mountains ; and felt some degree of exultation 
 in being the first individual that had crossed, 
 north of the settled provinces of Mexico, from 
 the waters of the Atlantic to those of the Pa- 
 cific, with wagons. Mr. William Sublette, the 
 enterprising leader of the Rocky Mountain Fur 
 Company had, two or three years previously, 
 reached the valley of the Wind River, which 
 lies on the northeast of the mountains ; but had 
 proceeded with them no farther. 
 
 A vast valley now spread itself before the 
 travellers, bounded on one side by the Wind 
 River Mountains, and to the west, by a long 
 range of high hills. This, Captain Bonneville 
 was assured by a veteran hunter in his com- 
 pany, was the great valley of the Seeds-ke-dee ; 
 and the same informant would fain have per- 
 suaded him, that a small stream, three feet 
 deep, which he came to on the 25th, was that 
 river. The captain was convinced, however, 
 that the stream was too insignificant to drain 
 •SO wide a valley and the adjacent mountains : 
 he encamped, therefore, at an early hour, on its 
 borders, that he might take the whole of the 
 next day to reach the main river ; which he 
 
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V 1i 
 
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 ^^^^^^^''Ti/; 
 
 60 
 
 asonneville'6 BDventurea 
 
 presumed to flow between him and the distant 
 range of western hills. 
 
 On the 26th of July, he commenced his march 
 at an early hour, making directly across the 
 valley, towards the hills in the west ; proceed- 
 ing at as brisk a rate as the jaded condition 
 of his horses would permit. About eleven 
 o'clock in the morning, a great cloud of dust 
 was descried in the rear, advancing directly on 
 the trail of the party. The alarm was given ; 
 they all came to a halt, and held a council of 
 war. Some conjectured that the band of Indi- 
 ans, whose trail they had discovered in the 
 neighborhood of the stray horse, had been ly- 
 ing in wait for them, in some secret fastness of 
 the mountains ; and were about to attack them 
 on the open plain, where they would have no 
 shelter. Preparations were immediatelj' made 
 for defense ; and a scouting party sent off to 
 recomioitre. They soon came galloping back, 
 making signals that all was well. The cloud 
 of dust was made by a band of fifty or sixty 
 moutited trappers, belonging to the American 
 Fur Company, who soon came up, leading 
 their pack-horses. They were headed by Mr. 
 Fontenelle, an experienced leader, or "parti- 
 san," as a chief of a party is called, in the 
 technical language of the trappers. 
 
 Mr. Fontenelle informed Captain Bonneville, 
 
 T^V- 
 
 <?o? 
 
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 1 
 
 *>T^ 
 
 j2o 
 
 ^^ 
 
'Kn. 
 
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 Ik 
 
 ^^: 
 
 tfoutenelle anD bid parts 
 
 6r 
 
 that he was on his way from the company's 
 trading post on the Yellowstone, to the yearly 
 rendezvous, willi reinforcements and supplies 
 for their hunting and trading parties beyond 
 the mountains ; and that he expected to meet, 
 by appointment, with a band of free trappers 
 in that very neighborhood. He had fallen 
 upon the trail of Captain Bonneville's party, 
 just after leaving the Nebraska ; and, finding 
 tliat they had frightened off all the game, had 
 been obliged to push on. bj- forced marches, to 
 avoid famine ; both men and horses were, 
 therefore, much travel-worn ; but this was no 
 place to halt ; the plain before them, he said, 
 was destitute of grass and water, neither of 
 which woulci ':.e met with short of the Green 
 River, which was yet at a considerable distance. 
 He hoped, he added, as his party were all on 
 horseback, to reach the river, with hard travel- 
 ling, bv nightfall ; but he doubted the possi- 
 bility of Captain Bonneville's arrival there with 
 his wagons before the day following. Having 
 imparted this information, he pushed forward 
 with all speed. 
 
 Captain Bonneville followed on as fast as cir- 
 cumstances would permit. The ground was 
 firm and gravelly ; but the horses were too 
 much fatigued to move rapidly. After a long 
 and harassing day's march, without pausing 
 
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 ^ V 
 
 rii 
 
 f^a^. 
 
 Mh** 
 
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 I 
 
 ill 
 
i 
 
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 ii'-V.J^rS.l't^^ 
 
 ,■■■ iO 
 
 63 
 
 :iBonncvUle'd adventures 
 
 for a noontide meal, they were compelled, at 
 nine o'clock at night, to encamp in an open 
 plain, destitute of water or pasturage. On the 
 following morning, the horses were turned 
 loose at the peep of day ; to slake their thirst, 
 if possible, from the dew collected on the sparse 
 grass, here and there springing up among dry 
 sand-banks. The soil of a great part of this 
 Green River Valley is a whitish clay, into 
 which the rain cannot penetrate, but which 
 dries and cracks with the sun. In some places 
 ►''v.A) . it produces a .salt weed, and grass along the mar- 
 gins of the streams ; but the wilder expanses 
 of it are desolate and barren. It was not initil 
 noon that Captain Bonneville reached the 
 banks of the Seeds-ke-dee, or Colorado of the 
 West ; in the meantime, the sufterings of both 
 men and horses had been excessive, and it was 
 with almost frantic eagerness that they hurried 
 to allay their burning thirst in the limpid cur- 
 rent of the river. 
 
 Fontenelle and his party had not fared much 
 l?<i better ; the chief part had managed to reach 
 the river by nightfall, but were nearly knocked 
 up by the exertion : the horses of others sank 
 under them, and they were obliged to pass the 
 night upon the road. 
 
 On the following morning, July 27th, Fon- 
 tenelle moved his camp across the river ; while 
 
 ^ 
 
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 p. 
 
 J^^ 
 
 I StratcflS of tbc JFur CraDc 
 
 v'l'.' 
 
 Captain Bonneville proceeded some little dis- 
 tance below, where there was a small but fresh 
 meadow, j-ielding abundant pasturage. Here 
 the poor jaded horses were turned out to graze, 
 and take their rest : the weary journey up the 
 mountains had won\ them down in flesh and 
 spirit ; but this last mar^^h across the thirsty 
 plain had nearly finished ilieni. 
 
 The captain had here the first taste of the 
 boasted strategy of the fur trade. During his 
 brief, but .social encampment, in company with 
 Fontenelle, that experienced trapper had man- 
 aged to win over a numbe" of Delaware In- 
 dians whom the captain had brought witli him, 
 by offering them four hundred dollars each, for 
 the ensuing autunnial hunt. The captain was 
 somewhat astonished when he saw these hun- 
 ters, o!i wliose services he had calculated se- 
 curely, suddenly pack up their traps, and go 
 over to the rival camp. That he might, in 
 some measure, however, be even with his com- 
 petitor, he dispatched t^'-o .scouts to look out 
 for the band of free trappers who were to meet 
 Fontenelle in this neigliborhood, and to en- 
 deavor to britig them to his camp. 
 
 As it would be nece.ssar}- to remain some 
 time in this neighborhood, that both men and 
 horses might repo.se and recruit their .strength ; 
 and as it was a region full of danger, Captain 
 
 :U:f ii.i'r 
 
 
i i 
 
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 I III 
 
 LU 
 
 
 JSonneviKe'd B?>v?»""rcs 
 
 Bonneville proceeded to »^iiiiy his camp with 
 breastworks of logs and pickets. 
 
 These precautions were, at that time, pecu- 
 liarly necessary, from the bands of Blackfeet 
 Indians which were roving about the neighbor- 
 hood. These savages are the most dangerous 
 banditti of the mountains, and the inveterate 
 foe of the trappers. They are Ishmaelites of 
 the first order ; always with weapon in hand, 
 ready for action. The young braves of the 
 tribe, who are destitute of property, go to war 
 for boot}' ; to gain horses, and acquire the 
 means of setting up a lodge, supporting a 
 family, and entitling themselves to a seat in 
 the public councils. The veteran warriors 
 fight merely for the love of the thing, and the 
 consequence which success gives them among 
 their people. 
 
 They are capital horsemen, and are generally 
 well mounted on short, stout horses, similar to 
 the prairie ponies, to be met with at St. Louis. 
 When on a war party, however, thej' go on 
 foot, to enable them to skulk through the 
 country with greater .secrecy ; to keep in thick- 
 ets and ravines, and use more adroit subter- 
 fuges and stratagems. Their mode of warfare 
 is entirely by ambush, surprise, and sudden 
 assaults in the night time. If they succeed in 
 causing a panic, they dash forward with a head- 
 
 ;-;5^.«?#ir,«T:#r«tr^-S,!^;^jsr*;^^aTiri^-.^ 
 
fe' 
 
 m 
 
 t^ 
 
 MacMect InOiane 
 
 65 
 
 long fury : if the enemy is on the alert, and 
 shows no signs of fear, they become wary and 
 deliberate in their movements. 
 
 Some of them are armed in the primitive 
 style, with bows and arrows ; the greater part 
 have American fusees, made after the fashion 
 of those of the Hudson's Bay Company. These 
 they procure at the trading post of the Ameri- 
 can Fur Company, on Marias River, where 
 they traffic their peltries for arms, ammuni- 
 tion, clothing, and trinkets. They are ex- 
 tremely fond of spirituous liquors and tobacco ; 
 for which nuisances they are readj' to ex- 
 change, not merely their guns and horses, but 
 even their wives and daughters. As they are 
 a treacherous race, and have cherished a lurk- 
 ijig hostility to the whites ever since one of their 
 tribe was killed by Mr. Lewis, the associate of 
 General Clarke, in his exploring expedition 
 across the Rocky Mountains, the American 
 Fur Company is obliged constantly to keep at 
 that post a garrison of sixty or seventy men. 
 
 Under the general name of Black feet, are 
 comprehended several tribes : such as the Sur- 
 cies, the Peagans, the Blood Indians, and the 
 Gros Ventres of the Prairies : who roam about 
 the southern branches of the Yellowstone and 
 Missouri rivers, together with some other tribes 
 further north. 
 
 VOL. I.— S 
 
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 ll II 
 
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 V 
 
 »'ltM iWllM i iMww< »»<'y^s':;a.^^ 
 
 j!-.!'I',s 
 
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 66 
 
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 :iSoiinevUle'd BOPcntures 
 
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 ? 
 
 The bands infesting the Witid River Moun- 
 tains, and the conntrj' adjacent, at the time of 
 which we are treating, were Gros Ventres 0/ 
 the Prairies, which are not to he confounded 
 with Gros Ventres 0/ the Jl/issouri, who keep 
 about the /ower part of that river, and are 
 friendly to the men. 
 
 This hostile band keeps about the head- 
 waters of the Missouri, and numbers about 
 nine hundred fighting men. Once in thecour.se 
 of two or three years they abandon their usual 
 abodes, and make a visit to tlie Arapahoes of 
 the Arkansas. Their route lies either through 
 the Crow country, and the Black Hills, or 
 through the lands of the Nez Perces, Flatheads, 
 Bannacks, and Shoshonies. As they enjoy 
 their favorite state of hostilitj' with all these 
 tribes, their expeditions are prone to be con- 
 ducted in thv most lawless and predator}' style ; 
 nor do they hesitate to extend their maraudings 
 to any party of white men they meet with ; 
 following their trails ; hovering about their 
 camps ; waylaying and dogging the caravans 
 of the free traders, and murdering the solitary 
 trapper. The consequences are, frequent and 
 desperate fights between them and the " moun- 
 taineers," in the wild defiles and fastnesses of 
 the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 The band in que.stion was, at this time, on 
 
 oJ!n 
 
 a 
 
 ». >.-.^tf^,,^-.. 
 
 ^1^-^^, 
 
 :-'.,'-t 
 

 JSlact;(eet InOiana 
 
 ■^ '%afi^"'^j 
 
 67 
 
 their way homeward from one of their custom- 
 ary visits to the Arapalioes ; and in the ensuing 
 chapter, we shall treat of some bloody encoun- 
 ters between them and the trappers, which had 
 taken place just before the arrival of Captain 
 Bonneville among the mountains. 
 
 \ ' i 
 
 2lA.^ 
 
 ?f 
 
 ,/ii 
 
 .^'-.'-t.. 
 
 "ife:rTT"?rs^s!p^ 
 
 , 
 
 i.il, 
 
 
I 
 
 ? 
 
 Cbaptcr m, 
 
 Sublette and his Band — Robert Cambell — Mr. Wyeth 
 and a Rand of " Down-Easters " — Yankee Enter- 
 prise — Kitzpatrick — His Adventure with the Black- 
 feet — A RendezA'ous of Mountaineers — The Battle of 
 Pierre's Hole — An Indian Ambuscade — Sublette's 
 Return. 
 
 LEAVING Captain Bonneville and his band 
 ensconced within their fortified camp in 
 the Green River Valley, we shall step 
 back and accompany a party of the Rocky 
 Mountain Fur Company in its progress, with 
 supplies from St. Louis, to the annual rendez- 
 vous at Pierre's Hole. This party consisted 
 of sixty men, well mounted, and conducting a 
 line of pack-hor.ses. They were commanded 
 by Captain Williatn Sublette, a partner in the 
 company, and one of the most active, intrepid, 
 and renowned leaders in this half-military kind 
 of service. He was accompanied bj' his associ- 
 ate in business, and tried companion in danger, 
 Mr. Robert Campbell, one of the pioneers of 
 
 68 
 
 V 
 
 x^i 
 
 \^, 
 
B 
 
 m 
 
 i^. 
 
 /^ "S 
 
 i 
 
 '^v^» 
 
 "a^- 
 
 
 DowiisEastcrs ' 
 
 the trade bej-ond the mountains, who had com- 
 luaiided trapping parties there in times of the 
 greatest peril. 
 
 As these worthy compeers were on their 
 route to the frontier, they fell in with another 
 expedition, likewise on its waj' to the moun- 
 tains. This was a party of regular " Down- 
 easters, " that is to .say, people of New England, 
 who, with the all-penetrating and all-pervading 
 spirit of their race, were now pushing their 
 way into a new field of enterprise, with which 
 they were totally unacquainted. The party 
 had been fitted out, and was maintained and 
 commanded by Mr. Nathaniel J. Wyeth, of 
 Boston.* This gentleman had conceived an 
 idea, that a profitable fishery for salmon might 
 be established on the Columliia River, and con- 
 nected with the fur trade. He had, accordingly, 
 invested capital in goods, calculated, as hesup- 
 po.sed, for the Indian trade, and had enlisted a 
 number of Eastern men in his employ, who 
 had never been in the Far West, nor knew any- 
 thing of the wilderness. With these, he was 
 bravely .steering his way acro.ss the continent, 
 undismayed b}- danger, difficulty, or distance, 
 in the same way that a New England coaster 
 
 * 111 the former editions of this work we have erro- 
 neously given this enterprising individual the title of 
 captain. 
 
 .c 
 
 
 
 ^' w 
 
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 •KS-":' 
 
 ■u 
 
 
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 'it 
 
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 11 
 
 'W 
 
 70 
 
 3Bonncville*5 aftventurcs 
 
 
 l.M 
 
 ^^V and his neighbors will coolly launch forth on a 
 voyage to the Black Sea, or a whaling cruise 
 to the Pacific. 
 ^V* With all their national aptitude at expedient 
 
 and resource, Wyeth and his men felt them- 
 selves completel}' at a loss when thej- reached 
 . \ !» j the frontier, and found that the wilderness re- 
 quired experience and habitudes of which they 
 were totally deficient. Not one of the party, 
 excepting the leader, had ever .seen an Indian 
 or handled a rifle ; they were without guide or 
 interpreter, and totally unacquainted with 
 " wood craft," and the modes of making their 
 way among savage hordes, and .subsisting them- 
 selves during long marches over wild moun- 
 tains and barren plains. 
 
 In this predicament. Captain vSublette found 
 them, in a manner becalmed, or rather run 
 aground, at the little frontier town of Inde- 
 pendence, in Mi.ssouri, and kindly took them 
 in tow. The two parties travelled amicably 
 together ; the frontier men of Sublette's party 
 gave their Yankee comrades some lessons in 
 hunting, and some insight into the art and 
 J- mystery of dealing with the Indians, and they \I^ 
 
 all arrived without accident at the upper V''^v\ 
 fy-, branches of the Nebraska or Platte River. , \\ 
 
 In the course of their march, Mr. l-'itzpatrick, ^\^^ 
 the partner of the company who was resident ^S^," 
 
 fe 
 
 ; 
 
 ■^.p 
 
 
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 X''--^T--^Jm^'-^^irf< 
 
 ir 
 
 € 
 
 L* »■ 
 
 ■ iTT ifflffr 'W*' - '"^"^"^ 
 
I 
 
 ..^ 
 
 _^y.. 
 
 h':- 
 
 at that time beyond the mountains, came down 
 from the rendezvous at Pierre's Hole to meet 
 them, and hurry them forward. He trav.illed 
 in company with them until they reaclu.d the 
 Sweet Water ; then taking a couple of horses, 
 one for the saddle, and the other a:s a pack- 
 horse, he started off express for Pierre's Hole, 
 to make arrangements against their arrival, 
 that he might commence his hunting campaign 
 before the rival company. 
 
 Fitzpatrick was a hardy and experienced 
 mountaineer, and knew all the passes and de- 
 files. As he was pursuing his lonely course 
 up the Green River Valley, he descried several 
 horsemen at a distance, and came to a halt to 
 reconnoitre. He supposed them to be some 
 detachment from the rendezvous, or a party 
 of friendly Indians. They perceived him, and 
 setting up the war-whoop, dashed forward at 
 full speed : he saw at once his mistake and 
 his peril — Ihey were Blackfeet. vSpriiiging 
 upon hi;; fleetest horse, and abandoning the 
 other to the enemy, he made for the moun- 
 tains, and succeeded in escaping up one of the 
 most ilangerous defiles. Here he concealed 
 himself until he thought the Indians had gone 
 off", when he returned into the valley. He was 
 again pursued, lost his remaining horse, and 
 only escaped by scrambling up among the 
 
 (rr^^v^^M**** 
 
 ';,■•■>. 
 
 I ll 
 
 I'-i 
 
 ^«C 
 
 .J-4-. ' tf'.'.M*"J 
 
 il 
 
 t„ .*. 
 
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 It 
 
 
 JBonnevlllc's aovcnturcs 
 
 cliffs. For several days he remained lurking 
 among rocks and precipices, and almost fam- 
 ished, having but one remaining charge in his 
 ri.le, which he kept for self-defense. 
 
 In the meantime, Sublette and Campbell, 
 with their fellow-traveller, Wyeth, had pursued 
 their march umnolested, and arrived in the 
 Green River Valley, totally unconscious that 
 there was any lurking enemy at hand. They 
 had encamped one night on the banks of a 
 small stream, which came down from the Wind 
 River Mountains, when about midnight, a 
 band of Indians burst upon their camp, with 
 horrible yells and whoops, and a discharge of 
 guns and arrows. Hrppiiy no other harm 
 was done than wounding one mule, and caus- 
 ing several horses to break loose from their 
 pickets. The camp was in.stantly in arms ; 
 but the Indians retreated with yells of exulta- 
 tion, carrying off several of the horses, under 
 covert of the night. 
 
 This was somewhat of a disagreeable fore- 
 taste of mountain life to some of Wyeth's ban 1, 
 accustomed only to the regular and peaceful 
 life of New England ; nor was it altogether to 
 the taste of Captain vSublette's men, who were 
 chiefly Creoles and townsmen from St. Louis. 
 They continued their march the next morning, 
 keeping scouts ahead and upon their flanks, 
 
 'V, 
 
 •? . ;: 
 
 f 
 
 
 sv 
 
 gM^ ■ '"•r-J 
 
..:,v:«A»^' 
 
 
 
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 ^f^^^ 
 
 Pierre's t)ole 
 
 73 
 
 and arrived without further molestation at 
 Pierre's Hole. 
 
 The first inquiry of Captain Sublette, on 
 reaching the rendezvous, was for Fitzpatrick. 
 He had not arrived, nor had any intelligence 
 been received concerning him. Great uneasi- 
 ness was now entertained, lest he should have 
 fallen into the hands of the Blackfeet, who had 
 made the midnight attack upon the camp. It 
 was a matter of general joy, therefore, when 
 he made his appearance, conducted by two half- 
 breed Iroquois hunters. He had lurked for 
 several days among the mountaMis, until almost 
 starved ; at length he escaped the vigilance of 
 his enemies in the night, and was so fortunate 
 as to meet the two Iroquois hunters, who, be- 
 ing on horseback, conveyed him without further 
 difficulty to the rendezvous. He arrived there 
 so emaciated that he could scarcely be recog- 
 nized, 
 
 Tlie valley culled Pierre's Hole is about 
 thirty miles in length and fifteen in width, 
 bounded to the west and south by low and 
 l)roken ridges, and overlooked to the east by 
 three lofty mountains, called the three Tetons, 
 which domineer as landmarks over a vast ex- 
 tent of country. 
 
 A fine stream, fed by rivulets and mountain 
 springs, pours through the valley towards the 
 
 
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 ■1 
 
 
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 \ 
 
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 I* 
 
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 74 
 
 JBonncvUIe's BDvcnturcs 
 
 north, dividing it into nearly equal parts. The 
 meadows on its borders are broad and extensive, 
 covered with willow and cotton-wood trees, so 
 closely interlocked and matted together, as to 
 be nearly impassable. 
 
 In this valley was congregated the motley 
 populace connected with the fur trade. Here 
 the two rival companies had their encanip- 
 meiits, witlv their retainers of all kinds ; traders, 
 trajipers, hunters, and half-breeds, assembled 
 from all quarters, awaiting their yearly sup- 
 jilies, and their orders to start off in new direc- 
 tions. Here, also, the savage tribes connected 
 with the trade, the Nez Perces or Chopunnish 
 Indians, and Flatheads, had pitched their 
 lodgings beside the streams, and with their 
 squaws awaited the distribution of goods and 
 finery. There was, moreover, a band of fifteen 
 free trappers, commanded by a gallant leader 
 from Arkansas, named Sinclair, who held Iheir 
 encampment a little apart from the rest. Such 
 was the wild and heterogeneous a.s.senii)lage, 
 anumnting to several hundred men, civilized 
 and savage, distributed in tents and lodges in 
 the several camps. 
 
 The arrival of Captain Sublette with .supplies 
 put the Rocky Mountain Fur Company in full 
 activity. The wares and merchandise were 
 quickly opened, and as quickly dispo.sed of to 
 
 '^<^ .-"^tV:^ 
 
 
 
 ■'&^^^^m^md^m 
 
^^ 
 
 / 
 
 n 
 
 
 Sublette's JSridaOe 
 
 £51 
 
 (L 
 
 ^l 
 
 trappers and Indians ; the usual excitement 
 and revelry took place, after which, all hands 
 began to disperse to their several destinations. 
 On the 17th of July, a small brigade of four- 
 teen trappers, led by Milton Sublette, brother 
 of the captain, set out with the intention of 
 proceeding to the southwest. They were ac- 
 companied by Sinclair and his fifteen free trap- 
 pers ; Wyeth, also, and his New England band 
 of beaver hunters and salmon fishers, now 
 dwindled down to eleven, took this opportunity 
 to prosecute their cruise in the wilderness, 
 accompanied with such experienced pilots. 
 On the first day, the}- proceeded about eiglit 
 miles to the southeast, and encamped for the 
 night, still in the valley of Pierre's Hole. On 
 the following morning, just as they were rais- 
 ing their camp, they observed a long line of 
 people pouring down a defile of the mountains. 
 They at first supposed them to be Fontenelle 
 and his party, whose arrival had been daily 
 expected. Wyeth, however, reconnoitered 
 them with a spj--glass, and soon perceived 
 they v.'cre Indians. They were divided into 
 two parties, forming, in the whole, about one 
 hundred and fifty persons, men, womtn, and 
 children. Some were on horseback, fantasti- 
 cally painted and arrayed, with scarlet blankets 
 
 fluttering in llie wind. The greater part, how- 
 
 i 
 
 ■ 'V 
 
 I !l 
 
 i( i 
 
 -2227- 
 
 m 
 
 •il'.dl-Ji 
 

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 II 
 
 ^: 
 
 76 
 
 JSonncviKc's BOvcitturcs 
 
 ever, were 011 foot. They had perceived the 
 trappers before they were themselves dis- 
 covered, and came down j-elling and whooping 
 into the plain. On nearer approach, they 
 were ascertained to be Blackfeet. 
 
 One of the trappers of Sublette's brigade, 
 a half-breed, named Antoine Godin, now 
 mounted his ho'-se, and rode forth as if to hold 
 a conference. He was the son of an Iroquois 
 hunter, who had been cruelly murdered by the 
 Blackfeet at a small stream below the moun- 
 tains, which still bears his name. In company 
 with Antoine rode forth a Flathead Indian, 
 whose once powerful tribe had been completely 
 broken down in their wars with the Blackfeet. 
 Both of them, therefore, cherished the most 
 vengeful hostility against these marauders of 
 the mountains. The Blackfeet came to a halt. 
 One of the chiefs advanced singly and un- 
 armed, bearing the pipe of peace. This over- 
 ture was certainly pacific ; but Antoine and 
 the Flathead were predisposed to hostility, and 
 pretended to consider it a treacherous move- 
 ment. 
 
 "Is your piece cliarged ? " said Antoine, 
 to his red companion. 
 
 "It is." 
 
 " Then cock it, and follow me." 
 
 They met tlie Blackfoot chief half-way, who 
 
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2^ 
 
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 ^^f^^p'f^f'^^-^'-^^^'^^ 
 
 
 £ncountcr wltb tbc JSlachfcct 
 
 extended his hand in friendship, 
 grasped it. 
 
 "Fire!" cried he. 
 
 The Flathead levelled his piece, and brought 
 the Blackfoot to the ground. Antoine snatched 
 off his .scarlet blanket, which was richly orna- 
 mented, and galloped off with it as a trophy to 
 the camp, the bullets of the enemy whistling 
 after him. The Indians immediately threw 
 themselves into the edge of a swamp, among 
 willows and cotton-wood trees, interwoven with 
 vines. Here they began to fortify themselves ; 
 the women digging a trench, and throwing up 
 a breastwork of logs and branches, deep hid in 
 the bosom of the wood, while the warriors .skir- 
 mished at the edge to keep the trappers at bay. 
 
 The latter took their station in a ravine in 
 front, whence they kept up a .scattering fire. 
 As to Wyeth, and his little band of " Down- 
 easters," they were perfectly astounded by 
 this second specimen of life in the wilderne.ss ; 
 the men, being especially iniu.sed to bush- 
 fighting and the use of the rifle, were at a. lo.ss 
 how to proceed. Wyeth, however, acted as a 
 skilful connnander. He got all his hor.ses into 
 camp and .secured them ; then, making a 
 breastwork of his packs of goods, he charged 
 his men to remain in garrison, and not stir out 
 of their fort. For himself, he mingled with 
 
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 78 
 
 , rf^f'^in .^^\ )::''^ . ■ ±' ^J. 
 
 3BonnevUIc'd Bdvcntures 
 
 the other leaders, determined to take his share 
 ill the conflict. 
 
 In the meantime, an express had been sent 
 off to the rendezvous for reinforcements. Cap- 
 tain Sublette, and his associate, Campbell, 
 were at their camp when the express came 
 galloping across the plain, waving his cap, and 
 giving the alarm : " Blackfeet ! Blackfeet ! a 
 fight in the upper part of the valley ! — to arms ! 
 to arms ! " 
 
 The alarm was passed from camp to camp. 
 It was a common cause. livery one turned 
 out with horse and rifle. The Nez Perces and 
 Flatheads joined. As fast as horsemen could 
 arm and mount they galloped off ; the valley 
 was soon alive with white men and red men 
 scouring at full speed. 
 
 Sul)lette ordered his men to keep to the 
 camp, being recruits from St. Louis, and un- 
 used to Indian warfare. He and his friend 
 Campbell prepared for action. Throwing off 
 their coats, rolling up their sleeves, and arm- 
 ing themselves with pistols and rifles, they 
 mounted their horses and dashed forward 
 among the first. As they rode along, they 
 made their wills in soldier-like style ; each 
 stating how his effects should be disposed of 
 in case of his death, and appointing the other 
 his executor. 
 
 :J 
 
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 l^i\;i>i 
 
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 l)^Si ^!ytVCX^-J?i? i* U&.i^ 
 
 3Bu0b«yidbtind 
 
 79 
 
 The Blackfeet warriors had supposed the 
 brigade of Milton Sublette all the foe they had 
 to deal with, and were astonished to behold 
 the whole valley suddenly swarming with 
 horsemen, galloping to the field of action. 
 They withdrew into their fort, which was 
 completely hid from sight in the dark and 
 tangled wood. Most of their women and chil- 
 dren had retreated to the mountains. The 
 trappers now sallied forth and approached the 
 swamp, firing into the thickets at random ; 
 the IMackfeet had a better sight at their adver- 
 saries, who were in the open field, and a half- 
 breed was wounded in the shoulder. 
 
 When Captain Sublette arrived, he urged to 
 penetrate the swamp and storm the fort, but all 
 hung back in awe of the dismal horrors of the 
 place, and the danger of attacking such des- 
 peradoes in their savage den. The ver\' Indian 
 allies, though accustomed to bush-fighting, 
 regarded it as almost impenetrable, and full of 
 frightful danger. Sublette was not to be turned 
 from his purpose, but offered to lead the way 
 into the swamp. Campbell stepped forward 
 to accompany him. Before entering the peril- 
 ous wood, Sublette took his brothers aside, 
 and told them that in case he fell, Campbell, 
 who knew his will, was to be his executor. 
 This done, he grasped his rifle and pushed into 
 
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 JBoniicviUc'd Bdventurcd 
 
 ex 
 
 the tliickets, fi)llo\ved by Campbell. Sinclair, 
 the partisan from Arkansas, was at the edge of 
 the wood with his brother and a few of his 
 men. Kxcited by the gallant example of the 
 two friends, he pressed forward to share their 
 dangers. 
 
 The swamp was produced by the labors of 
 the beaver, which, by damming up a stream, 
 had itnuidated a portion of the valley The 
 place was all overgrown with woods and thick- 
 ets, so closely matted and entangled that it 
 was impossible to see ten paces ahead, and the 
 three associates in peril had to crawl along, one 
 after another, making their way by putting the 
 branches and vines aside ; l)ut doing it with 
 caution, lest they should attract the eye of 
 some lurking marksman. They took the lead 
 by turns, each advancing about twenty yards 
 at a time, and now and then hallooing to their 
 men to follow. Some of the latter gradually 
 entered the swamp, and followed a little dis- 
 tance in the rear. 
 
 They had now reached a more open pai t of 
 the wood, and had glimpses of the rude fortress 
 from between the trees. It was a mere breast- 
 work, as we have said, of logs and branches, 
 with blankets, buffalo robes, and the leathern 
 covers of lodges, extended round the top as a 
 screen. The movements of the leaders, as 
 
 
 'U 
 
 
 
h 
 
 AW/ 
 
 Bttach on tbc llnMan ffort 
 
 they groped their way, had been descried by L,y 
 the sharp-sighted enemy. As Sinclair, who 
 was in the advance, was putting some branches 
 aside, he was shot through the body. He fell 
 on the spot. " Take me to my brother," said 
 he to Campbell. The latter gave him in charge 
 to some of the men, who conveyed him out of 
 the swamp. 
 
 Sublette now took the advance. As he was 
 reconnoitering the fort, he perceived an Indian 
 peeping through an aperture. In an instant 
 his rifle was levelled and discharged, and the 
 ball struck the savage in the eye. While he 
 was reloading, he called to Campbell, and 
 pointed out to him the hole ; " Watch that 
 place," said he, "and you will soon have a 
 fair chance for a shot." Scarce had he uttered 
 the words, when a ball struck him in the shoul- 
 der, and almost wheeled him round. His first 
 thought was to take hold of his arm with his 
 other hand, and move it up and down. He 
 ascertained, to his .satisfaction, that the bone 
 was not broken. The next moment he was .so 
 faint that he could not stand. Campbell took 
 him in his arms and carried him out of the 
 thicket. The same shot that struck Sublette, 
 wounded another man in the head. 
 
 A brisk fire was now opened by the moun- 
 taineers from the wood, answered occasionally 
 
 VOL. I. — 6 
 
 
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 <'l; 
 
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 1i 
 
 \ 
 
 III 
 
 83 
 
 JBonncville's BOvcntures 
 
 from the fort. Unluckily, the trappers and 
 their allies, in searching for the fort, had got 
 scattered, so that Wyeth, and a number of Nez 
 Perces, approached the fort on the northwest 
 side, while others did the same on the opposite 
 quarter. A cross-fire thus took place, which 
 occasionally did mischief to friends as well as 
 foes. An Indian was .shot down, close to 
 Wyeth, ])y a ball which, he was convinced, 
 had been sped from the rifle of a trapper on the 
 othei side of the fort. 
 
 The number of whites and their Indian allies, 
 had by this time so much increased by arrivals 
 from the rendezvous, that the Black feet were 
 completely overmatched. They kept doggedly 
 in their fort, however, making no offer of sur- 
 render. An occasional firing into the brea.st- 
 work was kept up dun'iig the day. Now and 
 then, one of the Indian allies, in bravado, 
 would rush up to the fort, fire over the ram- 
 parts, tear off a buffalo robe or a scarlet blanket, 
 
 CU^J ^"'^ return with it in triumph to his cimirades. 
 A V^ Most of the savage garrison that fell, however, 
 
 r;!^^ were killed in the first part of the attack. 
 
 At one time it was resolved to set fire to the 
 fort ; and the squaws belonging to the allies 
 were employed to collect combustibles. This, 
 however, was abandoned ; the Nez Perces 
 being unwilling to destroy the robes and blan- 
 
 ,iS 
 
 "i. 
 
 
 V 
 
 
 k 
 
 c, 
 
 <M 
 

 Speecb of JBlachfect Cbief 
 
 83 
 
 kets, and other spoils of the enemy, which 
 they felt sure would fall into their hands. 
 
 The Indians, when fighting, are prone to 
 taunt and revile each other. Duriwg one of 
 the pauses of the battle, the voice of the 
 Blackfeet chief was heard. 
 
 "So long," said he, "as we had powder 
 and ball, we fought you in the open field : 
 when those were spent, we retreated here to 
 die with our women and children. You may 
 burn us in our fort ; but, stay by our ashes, 
 and you who are so hungry for fighting, will 
 soon have enough. There are four hundred 
 lodges of our brethren at hand. They will 
 soon be here — their arms are strong — their 
 hearts are big — they will avenge us ! " 
 
 This speech was translated two or three 
 times by Nez Perce and Creole interpreters. 
 By the time it was rendered into English, the 
 chief was made to .say, that four hundred 
 lodges of his tribe were attacking the encamp- 
 ment at the other end of the valley. Every 
 one now was for hurrying to the defense of the 
 rendezvous. A party was left to keep watch 
 upon the fort ; the rest galloped off to the camp. 
 As night came on, the trappers drew out of the 
 swamp, and remained about the skirts of the 
 wood. By morning, their companions re- 
 turned from the rendezvous, with the report 
 
 ^ 
 
 i^1 
 
 '■*. 
 
 i: 
 
 li'ii 
 
 m^ -««**•'- 
 
 li' 
 
 ! 
 
II 
 
 iM 
 
 li 
 
 ^^y 
 
 JBonncvfUc's adventures 
 
 that all was safe. As the day opened, thej' 
 ventured within the swamp and approached 
 the fort. All was silent. They advanced up 
 to it without opposition. They entered : it 
 had been abandoned in the night, and the 
 Black feet had effected their retreat, carryiufj 
 off their wounded on litters made of branches, 
 leaving bloody traces on the herbage. The 
 bodies of ten Indians were found within the 
 fort : among them the one shot in the eye by 
 vSublette. The Blackfeet afterwards reported 
 that they had lost twenty-six warriors in this 
 battle. Thirty-two horses were likewise found 
 killed ; among them were some of those recently 
 carried off from Sublette's party, in the night ; 
 which showed that these were the very savages 
 that had attacked him. They proved to be an 
 advanced party of the main body of Blackfeet, 
 which had been upon the trail of vSublette's 
 party. Five white men and one half-breed 
 were killed, and several wounded. Seveti of 
 the Xez Perces were also killed, and si.x 
 wounded. They had an old chief, who was 
 reputed as invulnerable. In the ccmrse of the 
 action he was hit by a .spent ball, and threw 
 up blood ; but his skin was unbroken. His 
 peo[)le were now fully convinced that he was 
 proof against powder and ball. 
 A striking circumstance is related as having 
 
 ^ 
 
 r^fe^^ 
 
 y 
 
 ycv. 
 
 & 
 
 C^ 
 

 ^ 
 
 TDcvoUon ot a Squaw 85 
 
 occurred the morning after the battle. As 
 some of the trappers and their Indian allies 
 were approaching the fort, through the woods, 
 they beheld ati Indian woman, of noble form 
 and features, leaning against a tree. Their 
 surprise at her lingering here alone, to fall into 
 the hands of her enemies, was dispelled, when 
 they saw the corpse of a warrior at her feet. 
 Either she was so lost in grief as not to perceive 
 '^ r -s their approach, or a proud spirit kept her 
 (Tv-C^ silent and motionless. The Indians .set up a 
 JcK yell, on discovering her. and before the trap- 
 pers could interfere, her mangled body fell 
 upon the corpse which she had refused to 
 abandon. We have heard the anecdote dis- 
 credited by one of the leaders who had l)een in 
 the battle, but the fact may have taken place 
 without his seeing it, and been concealed from 
 him. It is an instance of female devotion, 
 e\ I'll to the death, which we are well dispo.sed 
 to believe and to record. 
 
 After the battle, the brigade of Milton 
 Sul)lette, together with the free trappers, and 
 Wyeth's New ICngland band, remained some 
 days at the rendezvous, to .see if the main body 
 of Blackfeet intended to make an attack ; 
 nothing of the kind occurring, they once more 
 put themselves in motion, and proceeded on 
 their route towards the .southwest. 
 
 
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 Captain Sublette having distributed hi.s sup- \Sl--4. 
 plies, had intended to set off on his return to Vf^~ 
 St. Louis, taking with him the peltries col- '■ '' 
 lected from the trappers and Indians. His 
 wound, however, obliged him to postpone liis 
 departure. Several wlio were to have accom- 
 panied him, became impatient of this dela^'. 
 Among these was a young Bostonian, Mr. 
 Joseph More, one of the followers of Mr. 
 Wyeth, who had seen enough of mountain life 
 and savage warfare, and was eager to return to 
 the abodes of civilization. He and six others, 
 among whom were a Mr. Foy, of Missi.ssippi, 
 Mr. Alfred K. Stephens, of St. Louis, and two 
 grandsjMS of the celebrated Daniel Boon, set 
 out together, in advance of Sublette's party, 
 thinking they would make their own way 
 through the mountains. 
 
 It was just five days after the battle of the 
 swamj), that these seven companions were mak- 
 ing their way through Jackson's Hole, a valley 
 not far from the three Tetons, when, as they 
 were descending a hill, a party of Blackfeet 
 that la\- in ambush started up with terrific yells. 
 The horse of the young Bostonian, wlio was 
 in front, wheeled round with affright, and 
 threw his unskilled rider. The young man 
 .scrambled up the side of the hill, but, unac- 
 customed to such wild scenes, lost his presence 
 
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 IRcturn to St. louis 87 
 
 of mind, and stood, as if paralyzed, on the 
 edge of a bank, initil the Blackfeet came np 
 and slew him on the spot. His comrades had 
 fled on the first alarm ; but two of them, Foy 
 and Stephens, seeing his danger, paused when 
 they had got half-way up the hill, turned back, 
 dismounted, and hastened to his assistance. 
 Foy was instantly killed. Stephens was se- 
 verely wounded, but escaped, to die five day.'' 
 afterwards. The survivors returned to the 
 camp of Captain vSublette, bringing tidings of 
 this new disaster. That hardy leader, as .soon 
 as he could bear the journey, set out on his 
 return to St. Louis, accompanied by Campbell. 
 As they had a number of pack-horses richly 
 laden with peltries to convoy, they chose a 
 different route through the mountains, out of 
 the way, as they hoped, of the lurking bands 
 of Blackfeet. The\ succeeded in making the 
 frontier in safety. We remember to have seen 
 them with their band, about two or three 
 months afterwards, passing through a skirt of 
 woodland in the upper part of Missouri. Their 
 long cavalcade stretched in single file for 
 nearly half a mile. Sublette still wore his arm 
 in a sling. The mountaineers in their rude 
 hunting dresses, armed with rifles, and roughly 
 mounted, and leading their pack-horses down 
 a hill of the forest, looked like banditti return- 
 
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 Retreat of the Blackfeet — Fontenelle's Camp in Dan- 
 ger — Captain Bonneville and the Blackfeet — Free 
 Trappers — Their Character, Habits, Dress, F.quip- 
 ments. Horses — Game Fellows of the Mountains — 
 Their Visit to the Camp— Good Fellowship and 
 Good Cheer — A Carouse — A Swagger, a Brawl, and 
 a Reconciliation. 
 
 THE Blackfeet warriors, when they effected 
 their midnight retreat from their wild 
 fastness in Pierre's Hole, fell back into 
 the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, or Green River, 
 where they joined the main body of their ban( 
 The whole force amonnted to several luitidred 
 fighting men, gloomy and exasperated by their 
 late disaster. They had with them their wives 
 and children, which incapacitated them for any 
 bold and extensive enterprise of a warlike na- 
 ture ; but when, in the course of their wander- 
 ings, they came in sight of the encampment of 
 Fontenelle, who had moved some distance up 
 Green River Valley in search of the free trap- 
 pers, they put up tremendous war-cries, and 
 
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 advaiiced fiercely as if to attack it. Second 
 tlioughts caused them to moderate their fury. 
 Tht'\- recollected the severe lesson just received, 
 and could not but remark the strength of Fon- 
 tenelle's position, which had been chosen with 
 great judgment. 
 
 A formal talk en.sued. The Blackfeet said 
 nothing of the late battle, of which Fontenelle 
 had as yet received no accounts ; the latter, 
 however, knew the hostile and perfidious na- 
 ture of these savages, and took care to inform 
 them of the encampment of Captain Bonne- 
 ville, that they might know there were more 
 white men in the neighborhood. 
 
 The conference ended, Fontenelle sent a 
 Delaware Indian of his party to conduct fif- 
 teen of the Blackfeet to the camp of Captain 
 Bonneville. There were at that time two Crow 
 Indians in the captain's camp, who had re- 
 cently arrived there. They looked with dis- 
 may at this deputation fnmi their implacable 
 enemies, and gave the captain a terrible char- 
 acter of them, assuring him that the best thing 
 he could possibly do, was to put those Black- 
 feet deputies to death on the .spot. The cap- 
 tain, however, who had heard nothing of the 
 conflict at Pierre's Hole, declined all compli- 
 ance witli this sage counsel. He treated the 
 grim warriors with his usual urbanity. They 
 
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 passed some little time at the camp, saw, no 
 doubt, that everything was conducted with 
 military skill and vigilance, and that such an 
 enem\- was not to be easily surprised, nor to 
 be molested wi til impunity, and then departed, 
 to report all they had seen to tlieir comrades. 
 
 The two scouts which Captain Bonneville 
 had sent out to seek for the band of free trap- 
 pers, expected by Fontenelle, and to invite 
 them to his camp, had been successful in their 
 search, and on the 12th of August those wor- 
 thies made tiieir appearance. To explain the 
 meaning of the appellation, free trapper, it is 
 necessary to state the terms on which the men 
 enlist in the service of the fur companies. Some 
 have regular wages, and are furnished with 
 weapons, horses, traps, and other requisites. 
 These are under command, and bound to do 
 every duty required of them connected with 
 the service ; such as hunting, trapping, load- 
 ing and unloading the horses, moimting 
 guard ; and, in short, all the drudgery of 
 the camp. These are the hired trappers. 
 
 The free trappers are a more independent 
 class ; and in describing them, we shall do 
 little more than transcribe the graphic descrip- 
 tion of them by Captain Bonneville. "They 
 come and go," says he, " when and where 
 they please ; provide their own horses, arms. 
 
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 JSonitevillc'd aorcnturcs 
 
 and other equipments ; trap and trade on their 
 own account, and dispose of their skins and 
 peltries to the highest bidder. Sometimes, in 
 a dangerous hunting ground, they attach them- 
 selves to the camp of some trader for protec- 
 tion. Here thej' come under some restrictions ; 
 the}' have to conform to the ordinary rules for 
 trapping, and to submit to such restraints, and 
 to take part in such general duties, as are es- 
 tablished for the good order and safety of the 
 camp. In return for this protection, and for 
 their camp keeping, they are bound to dispose 
 of all the beaver they take, to the trader who 
 connnands the camp, at a certain rate per skin ; 
 or, should they prefer seeking a market else- 
 where, they are to make him an allowance, of 
 from thirty to forty dollars for the whole hunt. 
 There is an inferior order, who, either from 
 prudence or poverty, come to these dangerous 
 hunting grounds without horses or acccutre- 
 ments, and are furnished by the traders. 
 These, like the hired trappers, are bound to 
 exert themselves to the utmost in taking 
 beaver, which, without .skinning, they render 
 in at the trader's lodge, where a stipulated 
 price for each is placed to their credit. These, 
 though generally included in the generic name 
 of free trappers, have the more specific title of 
 skin trappers. 
 
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 93 
 
 The wandering wiiites who mingle for any 
 length of time with the savages, have invaria- 
 bly a proneness to adopt savage hai)itudes ; 
 but none more so than the free trappers. It is 
 a matter of vanity and ambition with then; to 
 discard everytliing that may hear the stamp of 
 civilized life, and to adopt the manners, habits, 
 dress, gesture, and even walk of the Indian. 
 You cannot pay a free trajiper a greater com- 
 pliment, than to persuade him you have mis- 
 taken him for an Indian brave ; and, in truth, 
 the counterfeit is complete. His hair, suffered 
 to attain to a great kMr^^th, is carefully combed 
 out, and either left to fall carelessly over his 
 .shoulders, or plaited neatly and tied up in otter 
 .skins, or parti-colored ril)l)()!is. A hunting- 
 shirt of ruffled calico of bright dyes, or of 
 ornamented leather, falls to his knees ; below 
 which, curicmsly fashioned leggins, orna- 
 mented with slrings. fringes, and a profusion of 
 hawks' bells, reacli to a cosily pair of moc- 
 casins of the finest Indian fabric, richly em- 
 broidered with beads. A I)lanket of .scarlet, 
 or some other bright color, hangs from his 
 .shoulders, and is girt round his waist with a 
 red sash, in which he bestows hi j pistols, knife, 
 and the ttem of his Indian pipe, preparations 
 for peace or war. His gun is lavishly deco- 
 ated with brass tacks and vermilion, and pro- 
 
 
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 3Bonncvtllc*0 BDvcnturcs 
 
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 vided with a fringed cover, occa.s'otially of 
 buckskin, ornamented here and there with a 
 ^*~vvufr ft^!itli<-'r- His horse, the noble minister to the 
 ^\K pride, pleasure, and profit of the mountaineer, 
 is selected for his speed and spirit, and prancing 
 gait, and holds a place in his estimation second 
 only to himself. He shares largely of his 
 bounty, and of his pride and pomp of trapping. 
 He is caparisoned in the most dashing and 
 fantastic style ; the bridles and crupper are 
 weightily embossed with beads and cockades ; 
 and head, mane, and tail are interwoven with 
 abundance of eagles' plumes, which flutter in 
 the wind. To complete this grotesque equip- 
 ment, the proud animal is bestreaked and 
 bespotted with vermilion, or with white clay, 
 whichever presents the most glaring contrast 
 to his real color. 
 
 Such is the account given by Captain Bon- 
 neville of the.se rangers of the wilderness, and 
 their appearance at the camp was strikingly 
 characteristic. They came dashing forward 
 at full .speed, firing their fu.sees, and yelling 
 in Indian style. Their dark sunl)urnt faces, 
 and long flowing hair, their leggins, flaps, 
 "*^j' moccasins, and richly-dyed i)lankets, and their 
 painted horses gaudily caparisoned, gave them 
 so much the air and appearance of Indians, 
 that it was difficult to pursuade cue's self that 
 
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 they were white men, atul had been brought 
 up in civilized life. 
 
 Captain Boniieville, who was delighted with 
 the game look of these cavaliers of the moun- 
 tains, welcomed them heartily to his camp, 
 and ordered a free allowance of grog to regale 
 them, which soon put them in the most brag- 
 gart spirit. They pronounced the captain the 
 finest fellow in the world, and his men all hons 
 garfotis, jovial lads, and swore they would pass 
 the day with them. They did so ; and a day 
 it was, of boast, swagger, and rodomontade. 
 The prime bullies and braves among the free 
 trappers had each his circle of novices, from 
 among the captain's band ; mere greenhorns, 
 men iniused to Ind: iii life : iinuii^utrs tit' lard, 
 or pork eaters, as such new-comers are super- 
 ciliously called by the veterans of the wilder- 
 ness. These he would astonish and delight by 
 the hour, with prodigious tales of his doings 
 among the Indians ; and of the wonders he had 
 seen, and the wonders he had performed, in his 
 adventurous peregrinations among the moun- 
 tains. 
 
 In the evening, the free trapj^ers drew off, and 
 returned to the camp of I'ontenelle, highly 
 delighted with their visit and with their new 
 acquaintances, and promising to return the fol- 
 lowing day. They kept their word : day after 
 
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 3Bonncvinc's BOvcnturce 
 
 day their visits were repeated ; they became 
 " hail itllow well met " with Captain Bonne- 
 ville's men ; treat af^er treat sncceeded, until 
 both parties got most potently' convinced, or 
 rather confounded, by liquor. Now came on 
 confusion and uproar. The free trappers were 
 no longer suffered to have all the swagger to 
 themselves. The camp bullies and prime trap- 
 pers ;»f the party began to ruffle up, and to 
 brag in turn, of their perils au'l achievements. 
 Each now tried to oiU-boast and out-talk the 
 other ; a quarrel ensued as a matter of course, 
 and a genera' light, according to frontier usage. 
 The two factions drew out their forces for a 
 pitched battle. They fell to work and be- 
 labored each other with might and main ; kicks 
 and cuffs ard dry blows were as well bestowed 
 a?j 'l:cy .'.-.'ewell merited, mitil, having fought 
 to tiieir iieart's content, and been drubbed into 
 a familiar '■ quaintance with each other's 
 pro^ves and good qualities, they ended the 
 fight by becoming firmer friends than they 
 could have been rendered by a year's peacable 
 companionship. 
 
 While Captain Bonneville amused him.self by 
 observing the habits and characteristics of this 
 singular class of men, and indulged them, for 
 the time, in all their vagaries, he profited by 
 the opportunity to collect from them informa- 
 
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 tion concerning the difFerent parts of the coun- 
 try about which they had been accustomed to 
 range ; the characters of the tribes, and, in 
 short, everj-thing important to his enterprise. 
 He also succeeded in securing the services of 
 several to guide and aid him in his peregrina- 
 tions among the mountains, and to trap for him >> ^ 
 during the ensuing season. Having strength- 
 ened his party with such valuable recruits, he 
 felt in some measure consoled for the loss of 
 the Delaware Indians, decoyed from him by 
 Mr. Fontenelle. 
 
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 Plans for the Winter — Salmon River — Abundance of 
 Salmon West of the Mountains — New Arrange- 
 ments — Caches — Cerr^'s Detachment — Movements 
 in Fontenelle's Camp — Departure of the Blackfeet 
 — Their Fortunes — Wind Mountain Streams — Buck- 
 eye, the Delaware Hunter, and the Grizzly Bear- 
 Bones of Murdered Travellers — Visit to Pierre's 
 Hole — Traces of the Battle — Nez Perc6 Indians — 
 Arrival at Salmon River. 
 
 THE information derived from the free trap- 
 pers determined Captain Bonneville as 
 to his further movements. He learnt 
 that in the Green River Valley the winters were 
 severe, the snow frequently falling to the depth 
 of several feet ; and that there was no good 
 wintering ground in the neighborhood. The 
 upper part of Salmon River was represented as 
 far more eligible, besides being in an excellent 
 beaver country ; and thither the captain re- 
 solved to bend his course. 
 The Salmon River is one of the upper 
 
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 branches of the Oregon or Columbia ; and 
 takes its rise from various sources, among a 
 group of mountains to the northwest of the 
 Wind River chain. It owes its name to the 
 immense shoals of salmon which ascend it in 
 the months of September and October. The 
 salmon on the west side of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains are, like the buffalo on the eastern plains, 
 vast migratory supplies for the wants of man, 
 that come and go with the seasons. As the 
 buffalo in countless throngs find their certain 
 way in the transient pasturage on the prairies, 
 along the fresh banks of the rivers, and up 
 every valley and green defile of the mountains, 
 so the salmon, at their allotted seasons, regu- 
 lated by a sublime and all-seeing Providence, 
 swarm in myriads up the great rivers, and find 
 their way up thel/ main branches, and into the 
 minutest tributary streams ; so as to pervade 
 the great arid plains, and to penetrate even 
 among barren mountains. Thus wandering 
 tribes are fed in the desert places of the wil- 
 derness, where there is no herbage for the ani- 
 mals of the chase, and where, but for these 
 periodical supplies, it would be impossible for 
 man to subsist. 
 
 The rapid currents of the rivers which run 
 into the Pacific render the ascent of them very 
 exhausting to the salmon. When the fish first 
 
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 JBonneville's aoventurcs 
 
 run up the rivers, they are fat and in fine or- 
 der, The struggle against impetuous streams 
 and frequ'iut rapids gradually renders them 
 thivi ar,d weak, c.vd great numbers are seen 
 floating down the rivers on their backs. \s 
 the season advances and tlie water becomes 
 chilled, they are flung in myriads on the shores, 
 where the wolves and bears assemble to ban- 
 quet on them. Often they rot in such quanti- 
 ties along the river banks, as to taint the 
 atmosphere. They are commonly from two to 
 three feet long. 
 
 Ci'.ptain Bonneville now made his arrange- 
 ments for the autumn and the winter. The 
 nature of the country through which he was 
 about to tra\el rendered it impossible to pro- 
 ceed with wagons. He had more goods and 
 supplies of various kinds, also, than were re- 
 quired for present purjioses, or than could be 
 conveniently transported on horseback ; aided, 
 therefore, by a few confidential men, he made 
 caches, or .secret pits, during the night, when 
 all the rest of the camp were asleep, and in 
 these deposited the superfluous effects, to- 
 gether with the wagons. All traces of the 
 caches were then carefully obliterated. This is 
 a common expedient with the traders and 
 trappers of the mountains. Having no estab- 
 lished posts and magazines, they make these 
 
 
 
 

 
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 Brrniidcmentd for tbe Minter 
 
 lOI 
 
 caches or deposits at certain points, whither 
 they repair occasionally, for supplies. It is an 
 expedient dcived from the wandering tribes 
 of Indians. 
 
 Many of the horses were still so weak and 
 lame as to be unfit for a long scramble through 
 the mountains. These were collected into one 
 cavalcade, and given in charge to an experi- 
 enced trapper, of the name of Matthieu. He 
 was to proceed westward, with a brigade of 
 trappers, to Bear River ; a stream to the west 
 of the Green River or Colorado, where there 
 was good pasturage for the horses. In this 
 neighborhood it was expected he would meet 
 the Shoshonie villages or bands,* on their 
 yearly migrations, with whom he was to trade 
 for peltries and provisions. After he had 
 traded with these people, fii:ished his trappings, 
 and recruited the strength of the horses, he 
 was to proceed to vSalmon River ond rejoin 
 Captain Bonneville, who intended to fix his 
 quarters there for the winter. 
 
 * A vil/ai^e of Indians, in trappers' lan,ijuage, does 
 not always iinj)ly a fixed coinnmnity ; hut often a 
 wandering horde or band. The Shoshonies, like most 
 of the mountain tribes, have no settled residences ; 
 but are a nomadic people, dwelling in tents or lodj,;es, 
 and shifting their encampnit-nts from place to place, 
 according as fish and game abound. 
 
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 3Bonncville'0 Bdventuree 
 
 While these arrangements were in progress 
 in the camp of Captain Bonneville, there was a 
 sudden bustle and stir in the camp of Fonte- 
 nelle. One of the partners of the American 
 Fur Company had arrived, in all haste, from 
 the rendezvous at Pierre's Hole, in quest of 
 the supplies. The competition between the 
 two rival companies was just now at its height, 
 and prosecuted with unusual zeal. The tra- 
 montane concerns of the Rocky Mountain Fur 
 Company were managed by two resident part- 
 ners, Fitzpatrick and Bridger ; those of the 
 American Fur Company, by Vanderburgh and 
 Dripps, The latter were ignorant of the 
 mountain regions, but trusted to make up by 
 vigilance and activity for their want of knowl- 
 edge of the country. 
 
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 Fitzpatrick, an experienced trader and trap- V^-^r 
 per, knew the evils of competition in the same '" ^'^^^ 
 hunting grounds, and had proposed that the 
 two companies should divide the country, so 
 as to hunt in different directions : this propo- 
 sition being rejected, he had exerted himself 
 to get first into the field. His exertions, as 
 has already been shown, were effectual. The 
 early arrival of Sublette, with supplies, had ^'^ 
 enabled the various brigades of the Rocky 
 Mountain Company to start off to their respec- 
 tive huuting grounds. Fitzpatrick himself. 
 
 
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 Departure of TRival Companies 
 
 103 
 
 with his associate, Bridger, had pushed off 
 with a strong party of trappers, for a prime 
 beaver country to the north-northwest. 
 
 This had put Vanderburgh upon his mettle. 
 He had hastened on to meet Fontenelle. Find- 
 ing him at his camp in Green River Valley, he 
 immediately furnished himself with the sup- 
 plies ; put himself at the head of the free trap- 
 pers and Delavvares, and set off with all speed, 
 determined to follow hard upon the heels of 
 Fitzpatrick and Bridger. Of the adventures of 
 these parties among the mountains, and the 
 disastrous effects of their competition, we shall 
 have occasion to treat in a future chapter. 
 
 Fontenelle having now delivered his supplies 
 and accomplisbed his errand, struck his tents 
 and set off on his return to the Yellowstone. 
 Captain Bonneville and his band, therefore, 
 remained alone in the Green River Valley ; 
 and their situation might have been perilous, 
 had the Blackfeet band still lingered in the 
 vicinity. Those marauders, however, had 
 been dismayed at finding so many resolute and 
 well-appointed parties of white men in this 
 neighborhood. They had, therefore, aban- 
 dtmed this part of the country, passing over 
 the head-waters of the Green River, and bend- 
 ing their course towards the Yellowstone. 
 Misfortune pursued them. Their route lay 
 
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 aSonncvUlc's BDrcnturcg 
 
 through the countn* of their deadly enemies, 
 the Crows. In the Wind River \^alley, wliich 
 lies east of the mountains, they were encoun- 
 tered l)y a powerful war party of that tribe, 
 and completely put to rout. Forty of them 
 were killed, many of their women and children 
 captured, and the scattered fugitives hunted 
 like wild beasts, until they were completely 
 chased out of the Crow conntry. 
 
 On the 2 2d of August Captain Bonneville 
 broke up his camp, and set out on his route for 
 Salmon River. His baggage was arranged in 
 packs, three to a mule, or pack-horse ; one be- 
 ing disposed on each side of the animal, and 
 one on the top; the three forming a load of 
 from one hundred and eighty to two hundred 
 and twenty pounds. This is the trappers' 
 style of loading their pack-horses ; his men, 
 however, were inexpert at adjusting the packs ; 
 which were prone to get loose and slip off ; so 
 that it was necessary to keep a rear-guard to 
 assist in reloading. A few days' experience, 
 however, brought them itito proper training. 
 
 Their march lay up the valley of the Seeds- 
 ke-dee, overlooked to the right by the loftx- 
 peaks of the Wind River Mountains. From 
 bright little lakes and fountain-heads of this 
 remarkable bed of mountains, poured forth the 
 tributary streams of the Seeds-ke-dee. Some 
 
 
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 tioch\> fountain Streams 
 
 came rushing down gullies and ravines ; others 
 tumbling in crystal cascades from inaccessible 
 clefts and rocks, and others winding their way 
 in rapid and pellucid currents across the valley, 
 to throw themselves into the main river. So 
 transparent were these waters, that the trout 
 with which they abounded could be seen glid- 
 ing about as if in the air ; and their pebbly 
 beds were distinctly visible at the depth of 
 many feet. This beautiful and diaphanous 
 quality of the Rocky Mountain streams, pre- 
 vails for a long time after the\' have mingled 
 their waters and swollen into important rivers. 
 Issuing from the upper part of the valley. 
 Captain Bonneville continued to the east-north- 
 east, across rough and lofty ridges, and deep 
 rocky defiles, extremely fatiguing both to man 
 and horse. Among his hunters was a Dela- 
 ware Indian who had remi. ^ed faithful to him. 
 His name was Buckeye. He had often prided 
 himself on his skill and success in coping with 
 the grizzly liear, that terror of the hunters. 
 Though crippled in the left arm, he declared he 
 had no hesitation to close with a wounded bear, 
 and attack him with a sword. If armed with 
 a rifle, he was willing to brave the animal when 
 in full force and fury. He had twice an oppor- 
 tunity of proving his prowess, in the course of 
 this mountain journey, and was each time sue- 
 
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 Monncvillc'6 aDrentures 
 
 cessful. His mode was to seat himself upon 
 the ground, with his rifle cocked and resting 
 on his lame arm. Thus prepared, he would 
 await the approach of the bear with perf-ct 
 coolness, nor pull trigger until he was close at 
 hand. In each instance, he laid the monster 
 dead upon the spot. 
 
 A march of three or four daj-s, through sav- 
 age and lonely scenes, brought Captain Bonne- 
 ville to the fatal defile of Jackson's Hole, where 
 poor More and Fov had been surprised and 
 murdered by the ii.ackfeet. The feelings of 
 the captain were shocked at beholding the 
 bones of these unfortunate young men bleach- 
 ing among the rocks ; and he caused them to 
 be decently interred. 
 
 On the 3d of September he arrived on the 
 summit of a mountain which commanded a 
 full view of the eventful valley of Pierre's 
 Hole ; whence he could trace the windings of 
 its stream through green meadows and forests 
 of willow and cotton-wood, and have a pros- 
 pect, between distant mountains, of the lava 
 plains of vSnake River, dimly spread forth like 
 a sleeping ocean below. 
 
 After enjoying this magnificent prospect, he 
 descended into the valley, and visited the 
 scenes of the late desperate conflict. There 
 were the remains of the rude fortress in the 
 
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 1)arDdbtpd o( TiSlinter travelling 
 
 107 
 
 swamp, shattered by rifle shot, and strewed 
 with the mingled bones of savages and horses. 
 There was the late populous and noisy ren- 
 dezvous, with the traces of trappers' camps and 
 Indian lodges ; but their fires were extin- 
 guished, the motley assemblage of trappers 
 and hunters, white traders and Indian braves, 
 had all dispersed to different points of the wil- 
 derness, and the valley had relapsed into its 
 pristine solitude and silence. 
 
 That night the captain encamped upon the 
 battle ground ; the next day he resumed his 
 toilsome peregrinations through the moun- 
 tains. For upwards of two weeks he continued 
 his painful march ; both men and horses suf- 
 fering excessively at times from hunger and 
 thirst. At length, on the 19th of September, 
 he reached the upper waters of Sahuon River. 
 
 The weather was cold, and there were symp- 
 toms of an impending storm. The night set 
 in, but Buckeye, the Delaware Indian, was 
 missing. He had left the party early in the 
 morning, to hunt by himself, according to his 
 custom. Fears were entertained lest he should 
 lose his way and become bewildered in tempes- 
 tuous weather. These fears increased on the 
 following morning, when a violent snowstorm 
 came on, which soon covered the earth to the 
 depth of several inches. Captain Bonneville 
 
 
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 'ill 
 
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 JBonncvtllc'a BDvcntutcs 
 
 immediately encamped, and sent out scouts in 
 every direction. After some searcli Huckeye 
 was di.scovered, quietly seated at a consider- 
 able distance in the rear, waiting the expected 
 approach of the party, not knowing that they 
 had passed, the snow having covered their trail. 
 
 On the ensuing m<irning they resumed their 
 march at an early hour, but had not proceeded 
 fiir when the hunters, who were beating up 
 the country in the advance, came galloping 
 back, making .signals to encamp, and crjing 
 " Indians ! Indians ! " 
 
 Captain Bonneville immediatch struck into 
 a .skirt of wood and prepared for action. The 
 savages were now seen trooping over the hills 
 in great numbers. One of them left the main 
 body and came forward singly, making .signals 
 of peace. He announced them as a band of 
 Nez Perces* or Pierced-nosed Indians, friendly 
 to the whites, whereupon an invitation was 
 returned by Captain Bonneville, for them to 
 come and encamp with him. They halted for 
 a .short time to make their toilette, an operation 
 as important with an Indian warrior as with a 
 
 * We sliDuld observe that this tribe is iiiiivcrsally 
 called by its I'riMich name, which is jjronouiiced by 
 the trappers, Xt'f^i'rcy. There are two main branches 
 of this tribe, the ii])per Xepercys and the lower Ne- 
 percys, as we shall show hereafter. 
 
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 'V.-* 
 
 
 109 
 
 fashionable beauty. This done, thej' arranged 
 themselves in martial style, the chiefs leading 
 the van, the l)raves following in a long line, 
 painted and decorated, and topped oft" with 
 fluttering plumes. In this way they advanced, 
 shouting and singing, firing off their fusees, 
 and clashing their shields. The two parties 
 encamped hard by each other. The Nez Per- 
 ces were on a hunting expedition, but had 
 been almost famished on their march. They 
 had no provisions left but a few dried salmon, 
 yet finding the white men equally in want, 
 they generously offered to share even this 
 meagre pittance, and frequently repeated the 
 offer, with an earnestness that left no doubt 
 of their sincerity. Their generosity won the 
 heart of Captinn Bonneville, and i)roduced the 
 most cordial good-will on the part of his men. 
 For two days that the parties remained in com- 
 pany, the most aniical)le intercourse prevailed, 
 and they parted the best of friends. Captain 
 Botmeville detached a few men, under Mr. 
 Cerre, an able leader, to accompany the Nez 
 Perces on their hunting expedition, and to 
 trade with them for meat for the winter's sup- 
 ply. After this, he proceeded down the river 
 about five miles below the forks, when he came 
 to a halt on the 26th of September, to establish 
 his winter quarters. 
 
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 Cbaptcr UJ'. 
 
 Horses Turned Loose— Preparations for Winter Quar- 
 ters — Hungry Times— Nez Percds, their Honesty, 
 Piety, Pacific Habits, Religious Ceremonies — Cap- 
 tain Bonneville's Conversation with them — Their 
 Love of Gambling. 
 
 I 
 
 mm 
 
 T was gratifying to Captain Bonneville, 
 after so long and toilsome a course of 
 travel, to relieve his poor jaded horses of 
 the burdens under which they were almost 
 ready to give out, and to behold them rolling 
 upon the grass, and taking a long repose after 
 all their sufferings. Indeed, so exhausted 
 were they, that those employed under the sad- 
 dle were no longer capable of hunting for the 
 daily subsistence of the camp. 
 
 All hands now set to work to prepare a win- 
 ter cantonment. A temporary fortification was 
 thrown up for the protection of the party ; a 
 secure and comfortable pen, into which the 
 horses could be driven at night ; and huts 
 were built for the reception of the merchandise. 
 
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 ScardtB of iFooD 
 
 III 
 
 This done, Captain Bonneville made a dis- 
 tribution of his forces : twenty men were to 
 remain with him in garrison to protect the 
 property ; the rest were organized into three 
 brigades, and sent off in different directions, to 
 subsist themselves in hunting the buffalo, until 
 the snow should become too deep. 
 
 Indeed, it would have been impossible to 
 provide for the whole party in this neighbor- 
 hood. It was at the extreme western limit 
 of the buffalo range, and these animals had 
 recently been completely hunted out of the 
 neighborhood by the Nez Perccs, so that, al- 
 though the hunters of the garrison were con- 
 tinually on the alert, ranging the country 
 round, they brought in scarce game sufficient 
 to keep famine from the door. Now and then 
 there was a scanty meal of fisii or wild fowl, 
 occasionally an antelope ; but frequently the 
 cravings of hunger had to be appeased with 
 roots, or the flesh of wolves and muskrats. 
 Rarely could the itnnates of the cantonment 
 boast of having made a full meal, and never 
 of having wherewithal for the morrow. In 
 this way thej' starved along until the 8th of 
 October, when they were joined by a party of 
 five families of Nez Perces, who in some mea.s- 
 ure reconciled them to the hardships of their 
 situation, by exhibiting a lot still more desti- 
 
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 3Bonncvtllc's BDventurcs 
 
 tute. A more forlorn set thej- had never en- 
 countered : they had not a morsel of meat or 
 fish ; nor anything to subsist on, excepting 
 roots, wild rosebuds, the barks of certain plants, 
 and other vegetable productions ; neither had 
 they any weapon for hunting or defense, ex- 
 cepting an old spear : yet the poor fellows made 
 no murmur nor complaint ; bitt seemed accus- 
 tomed to their hard fare. If they could not 
 teach the white men their practical stoicism, 
 they at least made them acquainted with the 
 edible properties of roots and wild rosebuds, 
 and furnished them with a supply from their 
 own store. The necessities of the camp at 
 length became so urgent, that Captain Bonne- 
 ville determined to dispatch a party to the 
 Horse Prairie, a plain to the north of his can- 
 tonment, to procure a supply of provisions. 
 When the men were about to depart, he pro- 
 posed to the Nez Perces that the}', or some of 
 them, should join the hunting partj'. To his 
 surprise, they promptly declined. He inquired 
 the reason for their refusal, seeing that they 
 were in nearly as .starving a .situation as his 
 own people. They replied that it was a sacred 
 day with them, and the Great Spirit would be 
 angry should they devote it to hunting. They 
 offered, however, to accompany the party if 
 it would delay its departure until the following 
 
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 UnDian pragcre 
 
 r 
 
 day ; but this the pinching demands of hunger 
 would not permit, and the detachment pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 A few days afterwards, four of them signified 
 to Captain Bonneville that they were about to 
 hunt. "What!" exclaimed he, "without 
 guns or arrows ; and with only one old spear ? 
 What do you expect to kill?" They smiled 
 among themselves, but made no answer. Pre- 
 paratory to the chase, they performed some <j^^ 
 religious rites, and offered up to the Great 
 Spirit a few .short prayers for safety and sac- 
 ce.ss ; then, having received the blessings of 
 their wives, they leaped upon their horses and 
 departed, leaving the whole party of Christian 
 spectators amazed and rebuked by this lesson 
 of faith antl dependence on a supreme and 
 benevolent Being. "Accustomed," adds Cap- 
 tain Bonneville, " as I had heretofore been, to 
 find the wretched Indian revelling "n blood, and 
 stained by every vice which can degrade hu- 
 man nature, I ccmld scarcely realize the scene 
 which I had witnessed. Wonder at sucli un- ,. ^ 
 affected tenderness and piety, where it was ^fi^/"^ 
 least to have been sought, contended in all our 
 bosoms with .slianie and confusion, at receiving 
 such pure and wholesome instructions from 
 creatures so far below us in all the arts and 
 comfi)rts of life." The .simple prayers of the 
 
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 3Bonnet>ille'd BDventures 
 
 C-^ 
 
 poor Indians were not unheard. In the course 
 of four or five days they returned, laden with 
 meat. Captain Bonneville was curious to 
 know how they had attained such success with 
 such scanty means. They gave him to unu.r- 
 stand that they had chased the herds of 
 buffalo at full speed, until they tired them 
 down, when they easily dispatclied them with 
 the spear, and made use of the same weapon 
 to flay the carcasses. To carry through their 
 lesson to their Christian friends, the poor 
 savages were as charitable as they had been 
 pious, and generouslj' shared with them the 
 spoils of their hunting ; giving them food 
 enough to last for several days. 
 
 A further and more intimateintercour.se with 
 yvvi,* / this tribe gave Captain Bonneville still greater 
 cause to admire their strong devotional feeling. 
 " Simply to call these people religious," .says 
 he, " would convey but a faint idea of the 
 deep hue of piety and devotion which pervades 
 their whole coiiduct. Their honesty is innnac- 
 iilatt, and their purity of ])urpo.se, and their 
 ob.servance of the rites of their religion, are 
 nio.it uniform and remarkable. They are, 
 certainly, more like a nation of saints than a 
 horde of savages." 
 
 In fact, the anli-belligerent policy of this 
 tribe may have sprung from the doctrines of 
 
 
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 Christian charity, for it would appear that they 
 had imbibed some notions of the Christian 
 faith from Cathohc missionaries and traders 
 v'ho had been among them. They even liad a 
 rude calendar of tlie fasts and festivals of the 
 Romish Church, and some traces of its cere- 
 monials. These have become blended with 
 their own wild rites, and present a strange 
 medley, civilized and barbar s. On the Sab- 
 bath, men, women, and children arraj- them- 
 selves in their best style, and assemble round 
 a pole erected at the head of the camp. Here 
 they go through a wild fantastic ceremonial ; 
 strongly resembling the religious dance of the 
 Shaking Quakers ; but from its enthusiasm, 
 much more striking and impressive. During 
 the intervals of the ceremony the principal 
 chiefs, who officiate as priests, instruct them in 
 their duties, and exhort them to virtue and 
 good deeds. 
 
 "There is something antique and patri- 
 archal," observes Captain IJonnevillc, " in this 
 union of the offices of leader and priest ; as 
 there is in many of their customs and maimers, 
 which are all strongly iml)ued v ith religion." 
 
 The worthy captain, indeed, appears to have 
 been strongly interested by this gleam of un- 
 looked-for light amidst the darkness of the 
 wilderness. He exertetl himself, during his 
 
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 :)SonncvtlU'd B£tvcnturee 
 
 sojourn among this simple and well-disposed 
 people, to inculcate, as far as he was able, the 
 gentle and humanizing precepts of the Chris- 
 tian faith, and to make them acquainted with 
 the leading points of its history : and it speaks 
 highly for the purity and benignity of liis 
 heart, that he deri\ed unmixed happiness frona 
 the task. 
 
 "Many a time," says he, "was my little 
 lodge thronged, or rather piled with hearers, 
 for the\' lay on the ground, one leaning over 
 the other, luitil there was no further room, all 
 listening with greedy ears to the wonders 
 wiiicli the Cireat vSpirit had revealed to the 
 white man. Xo »)tlier subject gave them half 
 the .satisfaction, or comnruided half the atten- 
 tion ; and but few scenes in my life remain .so 
 freshly on my memory, or are so pleasurably 
 recalled to my contemplation, as these hours of 
 intercourse with a distant and benighted race 
 in the midst of the desert." 
 
 The only exce.sses indulged in by this tem- 
 perate and exemplary jieople, appear to be 
 gambling and horse-racing. In these they 
 engage with an eagerness that amounts to 
 infatuation. Knots of gamblers will assemble 
 before one of their lodge fires, early in the 
 evening, and remain al)sorbed in the chances 
 and changes of the game until long after dawn 
 
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 (3ambUnd and fjorse^'Kacind 
 
 
 117 
 
 of the following day. As night advances, 
 they wax warmer and warmer. Bets increase 
 in amount, one loss only serves to lead to a 
 greater, until in the course of a single night's 
 gambling, the richest chief may become the 
 poorest varlet in the camp. 
 
 ii. 
 
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 ^bapter i*. 
 
 Blackfeet in the Horse Prairie — Search after the Hun- 
 ters — Difficulties and Dan<;ers— A Card Party in the 
 Wilderness — The Card Party Interrupted — "Old 
 Sledj^e," a Losinj^ Game — Visitors to the Camp — 
 Iroquois Iluiitvrs — Hanj^inj^-Kared Indians. 
 
 ON the 1 2th of October, two young Indians l^ 
 of tlie Xez Perce tribe arrived at Cap- 
 tain Bonneville's encampment. They 
 were on their way homeward, but had been 
 obliged to swerve from their ordinary route 
 through the mountains, by deep snows. Their 
 new route took them through the Horse Prai- 
 rie. In traversing it, they had been attracted 
 by the distant smoke of a camp-fire, and, on 
 stealing near to reconnoitre, had discovered a 
 war jtarty of Blackfeet. They had .several 
 horses with them ; and, as they generally go 
 on foot on warlike excursions, it was concluded 
 that these horses had lieen captured in the 
 course of their maraudings. 
 
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 Scarcb for tbc "Ibuntcrs 
 
 119 ' 
 
 This intelligence awakened solicitude on the 
 mind of Captain Bonneville, for the party of 
 hunters whom he had sent to that neighbor- 
 hood ; and the Nez Perces, when informed of 
 the circumstance, shook their heads, and de- 
 clared the belief that the horses they had seen 
 had been stolen from that very party. 
 
 Anxious for information on the subject, Cap- 
 tain Boinieville dispatched two hunters to beat 
 lip the country in that direction. They searched 
 in vain ; not a trace of the men could be found ; 
 but they got into a region destitute of game, 
 where they were wellnigh famished. At one 
 time, they were three entire days without a 
 mouthful of food ; at length they beheld a 
 buffalo grazing at the foot of a mounta . . 
 After manoeuvring so as to get within .shot, 
 they firetl, l.nit merely wounded him. He took 
 to flight, and they followed him over hill and 
 dale, with the eagerness and perseverance of 
 starving men. A more lucky shot brought 
 him to the ground. Stanfield .sprang upon 
 him, plunged his knife into his throat, and al- 
 layed his raging hunger by drinking his blood. 
 A fire was instantly kindled beside the carca.ss, 
 when the two hunter.; cooked, and ate again 
 and again, until, perfectly gorgetl, they sank 
 to sleep before their hunting fire. On the fi)l- 
 lowing morning they ro.se early, made another 
 
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 3ISonnev>i[[e's B^\'eMtllre^ 
 
 hearty meal, then loading themselves with buf- 
 falo meat, set out on their return to the camp, 
 to report the fruitlessness of their mission. 
 
 At length, after six weeks' absence, the hun- 
 ters made their appearance, and were receiveil 
 with joy, proportioned to the anxiety that had 
 been felt on their account. They had hunted 
 with success on the prairie, but, while busy dry- 
 ing buffalo meat, were joined by a few panic- 
 stricken Flatheads, who informed them that a 
 powerful band of Blackfeet were at hand. The 
 hunters immediately abandoned the dangerous 
 hunting-ground, and accompanied the Flat- 
 heads to their village. Here they found Mr. 
 Cerre, and the detachment of hunters .sent 
 with him to accompany the hunting party of 
 the Xez Perces. 
 
 After remaining .some time at the village, 
 until they suppo.sed the Blackfeet to have left 
 the neighborhood, they set off, with .some of 
 Mr. Cerre's men, for the cantonment of Salmon 
 River, where they arrived without accident. 
 Thej- informed Captain Bonneville, however, 
 that, not far from his quarters, they had found 
 a wallet of fre.sh meat and a cord, which they 
 supposed had been left by some prowling 
 Blackfeet. A few days afterwards, Mr. Cerre. 
 with the remainder of his men, likewi.se ar- 
 rived at the cantonment. 
 
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 cHS-r3Rtx>U^::^'^r=S. 
 
 ''^)Oti;iSi*i'r-'wi«.-v^'«' 
 
 ^ \ 
 

 
 "B CarO partis in tbe 'QllUdentcdd 
 
 Mr. Walker, one of the subleaders, who had 
 gone, with a band of twenty hunters, to range 
 the country just beyond the Horse Prairie, had, 
 likewise, his share of adventures with the all- 
 pervading Blackfeet. At one of his encamp- 
 ments, the guard stationed to keep watch round 
 the camp grew weary of their duty, and feeliiig 
 a little too secure, and too much at home on 
 these prairies, retired to a small grove of wil- 
 lows, to amuse themselves with a social game 
 of cards, called " old sledge," which is as 
 popular among the trampers of the prairies, 
 « u as whist or ecarte among the polite circles of 
 H/^ the cities. From the midst of their sport, they 
 were suddenly roused by a discharge of fire- 
 arms, and a shrill war-whoop. Starting on 
 their feet, and snatching up their rifles, they 
 beheld in dismay their horses and mules al- 
 ready in possession of the enemj-, who had 
 stolen upon the camp unperceived, while they 
 were spell-bound bj- the magic of " old sledge." 
 The Indians sprang upon the animals bare- 
 backed, and endeavored to urge them off under 
 a galling fire, that did some execution. The 
 mules, however, confounded bj- the hurly- 
 burly, and disliking their new riders, kicked 
 up their heels and dismounted half of them, 
 in spite of their horsemanship. This threw 
 the rest into confusion ; they endeavored to 
 
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 122 asonncrtllc's BCrcnturcs 
 
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 protect their unhorsed comrades from the furi- 
 ou.s assaults of the whites ; but, after a scene 
 of 'confusion worse confounded," horses and 
 mules were abandoned, and the Indians betook 
 themselves to the bushes. Here thej* quickly 
 scratched holes in the earth about two feet 
 deep, in which tlie\- prostrated themselves, and 
 while thus screened from the shots of the white 
 men. were enabled to make such use of their 
 bows and arrows and fusees as to repulse their 
 assailants, and to effect their retreat. This ad- 
 venture threw a temporary stigma upon the 
 game of " old sledge." 
 
 In the course of the autumn, four Iroquois 
 hunters, driven by the snow from their hunt- 
 ing groiuids, made their appearance at the 
 cantonment. They were kindly welcomed, 
 and during their .sojourn made themselves 
 useful in a variety of ways, being excellent 
 trappers and first-rate woodsmen. They were 
 of the remnants of a party of Iroquois hun- 
 ters, that came from Canada into these moun- 
 tain regions many years previously, in the 
 emploN" of the Hudson's Bay Company. They 
 were led by a brave chieftain, named Pierre, 
 who fell by the hands of the Blackfeet, and 
 gave his name to the fated valley of Pierre's 
 Hole. This branch of the Iroquois tribe has 
 ever .since remained among these mountains; 
 
 
 
 
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 77/^' lIiDitini^ Pnxiric oj the Pcnd-Oriellcs 
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 Visit o( penOs Orcilles 
 
 at mortal enmity with the Blackfeet, and have 
 lost many of their prime hunters in their feuds 
 with that ferocious race. Some of them fell 
 in with General Ashley, in the course of one 
 of his gallant excursions into the wilderness, 
 and have continued ever since in the employ 
 of the company. 
 
 Among the motley visitors to the winter 
 quarters of Captain Bonneville, was a party 
 of Pends Oreilles (or Hanging-Ears) and their 
 chief. These Indians have a strong resem- 
 blance, in character and customs, to the Nez 
 Perces. They amount to about three hundred 
 lodges, and are well armed, and possess great 
 numbers of horses. During the spring, sum- 
 mer, and autumn they hunt the buffalo alwut 
 the head-waters of the Missouri, Henry's Fork 
 of the Snake River, and the northern branches 
 of Salmon River. Their winter quarters are 
 upon the Racine Amere, where they subsist 
 upon roots and dried buffalo meat. Upon this 
 river the Hmlson's Bay Company have estab- 
 lishes a trading post, where the Pends Oreilles 
 and the Flatheads bring their peltries to ex- 
 change 'or arms, clothing, and trinkets. 
 
 This tribe, like tlie Nez Percys, evince strong 
 and peculiar feelings of natural piety. Their 
 religion is not a mere superstitious fear, like 
 that of most savages ; they evitice abstract no- 
 
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 124 
 
 JBonncville's aoventures 
 
 tions of nioralitj-, a deep reverence for an over- 
 ruling Spirit, and a respect for the rights of 
 their fellow-men. In one respect, their religion 
 partakes of the pacific doctrines of the Quak- 
 ers. They hold that the Great Spirit is dis- 
 pleased with all nations who wantonly engage 
 in war ; they alistain, therefore, from all ag- 
 gressive hostilities. But though thus unof- 
 fending in their policy, they are called upon, 
 contiiuialh' to wage defensive warfare, espe- 
 cially with the Blackfeet ; with whom, in the 
 course of their limiting expeditions, thej' come 
 in frequent collision, and have desperate bat- 
 tles. Their conduct as warriors is witliout 
 fear or reproach, and they can never be driven 
 to abandon their hunting grounds. 
 
 f^ike most .savages, they vu firm believers 
 in dreams, and in the power ami efficacy of 
 charms and amulets, or medicines, as they 
 term them. Some of their brave."--, also, who 
 have had numerous hair-breadth '.scapes, like 
 the old Xez Perc.! chief in lie battle of Pierre's 
 Hole, are believed to v . charmed life, and 
 to be bullet-proof Of the.M^ giJted beings mar- 
 vellous anecdotes are related, v.iiich are most 
 potently believed by their feilow-savages, and 
 sometinies almost credited \y the white hunters. 
 
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 Chapter J*1I. 
 
 '.> Rival Trapping Parties — MaiKxuvriiig — A Desperate 
 Game — Van(ler))iiri,'h and the Ulackfeet — Deserted 
 Camp rires — A Dark Defile — An Indian Ambush — 
 A I'Merce Melee — Fatal Consequences — Fitzpatrick 
 and Uridger — Trappers' Prccaulions — ^Meetiuj^ with 
 the Ulackfeet — More iMjihlint,' — Anecdote of a 
 Vouuj^ Mexican and an In<liau (lirl. 
 
 WMIIJv Captain IJoniievillc and his men 
 are sojonrnini;' among the Xez Per- 
 ccs, on Salmon River, we willinqnire 
 after the fortnnes of those (lou.i;lity rivals of 
 the Rocky Mountain and American Fur Com- 
 panies, who started off for the trapping grounds 
 to the north-northwest. 
 
 Fitzpatrick and Briilger, of the former com- 
 pany, as we have already shown, having re- 
 ceived their supplies, liad taken the lead, and 
 hoped to have the first sweep of the lumting 
 ground. Vanderburgh and Dripps, however, 
 the two resident partners of the opposite com- 
 pany, by extraordinary exertions, were en- 
 
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 126 
 
 3SonneviUe'6 Bdventures 
 
 abled soon to pui themselves upon their traces, 
 and pressed forward with such speed as to 
 overtake them just as they had reached the 
 heart of the beaver countrj-. In fact, be- 
 ing ignorant of the best trapping grounds, it 
 was their object to follow on and profit by the 
 superior knowledge of the other party. 
 
 Nothing could equal the chagrin of Fitz- 
 patrick and Bridger, at being dogged by their 
 inexperienced rivals ; especially after their 
 offer to divide the country with them. They 
 tried in every way to blind and baffle them, 
 to steal a march upon them, or lead them on 
 a wrong .scent ; but all in vain. Vanderburgh 
 made up, by activity and intelligence, for his 
 ignoraiK '^ of the country; was always wary, 
 always the alert ; discovered every move- 
 ment of ills rivals, howt-ver secret, and was 
 not to be eluded or misled. 
 
 Fitzpntrick and his colleague now lost all 
 patie .ce ; since the others persisted in follow- 
 ing them, thej' determined to give them an 
 unprofitable chase, and to .sacrifice the hunting 
 season, rather than share the products with 
 their rivals. They accordingly took up their 
 line of march down the course of the Missouri, 
 k.eping the main Black foot trail, and tramping 
 dc'ggedly forward, without stopping to set a 
 &!tigle trap. The others beat the hoof after 
 
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 them for some time, but by degrees began to 
 perceive that they were on a wild-goose chase, 
 and getting into a countrj' perfectly barren to 
 the trapper. They now came to a halt, and 
 bethought themselves how to make up for lost 
 time, and improve the remainder of the season. 
 It was thought best to divide their forces and 
 try different trapping grounds. While Dripps 
 went in one direction, Vanderburgh, with 
 about fifty men, proceeded in another. The 
 latter, in his headlong march, had got into the 
 ver>' heart of the Blackfoot country, yet seems 
 to have been unconscious of his danger. As 
 his scouts were out one day, they car : upon 
 the traces of a recent band of savages. There 
 were the deserted fires still smoking, sur- 
 rounded by the carcasses of buffaloes just killed. 
 It was evident a party of Blackfeet had been 
 frightened from their hunting camp, and had 
 retreated, probably to seek reinforcements. 
 The scouts hastened back to the camp, and 
 told Vanderburgh what they had seen. He 
 made light of the alarm, and, taking nine men 
 with him, galloped off to reconnoitre for him- 
 self He found the deserted cainj) just as thej- 
 had represented it ; there lay the carcasses of 
 buffaloes, partly dismemlvcred : there were the 
 smouldering fires, still seiidin^i; up their wreaths 
 of smoke ; everything bore traces of recent 
 
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 128 
 
 JBonncvUlc's acvcnturcs 
 
 and hasty retreat ; and gave reason to believe 
 that tlie savages were still lurking in the 
 neighborhood. With heedless daring, Vander- 
 burgh put himself upon their trail, to trace 
 them to their place of concealment. It led him 
 over prairies, and through skirts of woodland, 
 until it entered a dark and dangerous ravine. 
 Vanderburgh pushed in, without hesitation, 
 followed by his little baud. The\' soon found 
 themselves in a gloomy dell, between steep 
 banks overhung with irce:-i ; where the pro- 
 found silence was only broken by the tramp 
 of their own horses. 
 
 vSuddenly the horrid war-whoop burst on 
 their ears, mingled with the sharp report of 
 rifles, and a legion of savages sprang from 
 their concealments, yelling, and shaking their 
 buffalo robes to frighten the horses. Vander- 
 burgh's horse fell, mortally wounded by tlie 
 first discharge. In his fall, he pinned his rider 
 to the ground ; who called in vain upon his 
 men to assist in extricating him. One was 
 shot down and scalped a few paces distant ; 
 most of the others were severeh- wounded, and 
 sought their safety in flight. The savages ap- 
 proached to dispatch the unfortunate leader, 
 as he lay struggling beneath his horse. He 
 had still his rifle in his hand, and his pistols 
 in his belt. The first savage that advanced 
 
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 jpatc of ^ajor WanOcrburgb 
 
 received the contents of the rifle in his breast, 
 and fell dead upon the spot ; but before Van- 
 derburgh could draw a pistol, a blow from a 
 tomahawk laid him prostrate, and he was dis- 
 patched by repeated wounds. 
 
 Such was the fate of Major Henry Vander- 
 burgh, one of the best and worthiest leaders 
 of the American Fur Company ; who, bj- his 
 manly bearing and dauntless courage, is said 
 to have made himself universally popular 
 among the bold-hearted rovers of the wilder- 
 ness. 
 
 Those of the little band who escaped fled in 
 consternation to the camp, and .spread direful 
 reports of the force and ferocity of the enemy. 
 The party, being without a head, were in com- 
 plete confusion and dismay, and made a pre- 
 cipitate retreat, without attempting to recover 
 the remains of their butchered leader. They 
 made no halt until they reached the encamp- 
 ment of the Pends Oreil t-s, or Hanging-Ivars, 
 where they oflered a reward for the recovery 
 of the body, but without success ; it never 
 could be found. 
 
 In the meantime Fitzpatrick and Bridger, of 
 the Rocky Moiiutain Company, fared but little 
 better than their rivals. In their eagerness to 
 mislead them, they had betrayed themselves 
 into danger, and got into a region infested with 
 
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 130 
 
 JSonncvUlc'B adventures 
 
 /-■ 
 
 the Blackfeet. They soon found that foes were 
 on the watch for them ; but they were experi- 
 enced in Indian warfare, and not to be sur- 
 prised at night, nor drawn into an ambush in 
 the daytime. As the evening advanced, the 
 horses were all brought in and picketed, and a 
 guard was stationed round the camp. At the 
 earliest streak of daj- one of the leaders would 
 mount his horse, and gallop off full speed for 
 about half a mile ; then look round for Indian 
 trails, to ascertain whether there had been any 
 lurkers roinid the camp ; returning slowly, he 
 would reconnoitre everj' ravine and thicket 
 where there might be an ambush. This do:ie, he 
 would gallop off in an opposite direction and 
 repeat the same scrutiny. Finding all things 
 safe, the horses would be turned loo.se to graze, 
 but always inider the e3'e of a guard. 
 
 A caution equally vigilant was observed in 
 the inarch, on approaching any defde or i)lace 
 where an enemj- might lie in wait ; and scouts 
 were always kept in the advance, or along the 
 ridges and rising grounds on the flanks. 
 
 At length, one day, a large band of Black- 
 feet appeared in the open field, but in the 
 vicinity of rocks and cliiTs. They kept at a 
 wary distance, but made friendlj' .signs. The 
 trappers replied in the same way, but likewise 
 kept aloof. A small party of Indians now ad- 
 
 
 
 
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 Uorctto auD Ibis UnDian lUtfc 
 
 vanced, bearing the pipe of peace ; they were 
 met by an equal numl)er of white men, and 
 they formed a group, midway between the two 
 bands, where the pipe was circulated from 
 hand to hand, atid smoked with all due cere- 
 mony. An instance of natural affection took 
 place at this pacific meeting. Among the free 
 trappers in the Rocky Mountain band, was a 
 spirited j-oung Mexican, named Loretto ; who, 
 in the course of his wanderings, had ransomed 
 a beautiful Blackfoot girl from a band of Crows 
 by whom she had been captured. He made 
 her his wife, after the Indian style, and she 
 had followed his fortunes ever since, with the 
 most dev<jted affection. 
 
 Among the Blackfeet warriors who advanced 
 with the calumet of peace, she recognized a 
 brother. Leaving her infant with Loretto, she 
 rushed forward and threw herself upon her 
 brother's neck ; who clasped his long-lost sister 
 to his heart, with a warmth of affection but 
 little compatible with the reputed stoicism of 
 the savage. 
 
 While this scene was taking place, Bridger 
 left the main body of trappers, and rode slowly 
 towards the group of smokers, with his rifle 
 resting across the pommel of his saddle. The 
 chief of the Blackfeet stepped forward to meet 
 him. From some unfortunate feeling of dis- 
 
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 trust, Bridger cocked his rifle just as the chief 
 was extending his hand in friendship. The 
 quick ear of the savage caught the cHck of the 
 lock ; in a twinkling, he grasped the barrel, 
 forcing the muzzle downward, and the contents 
 were discharged into the earth at his feet. 
 His next movement was to wrest the weapon 
 from the hand of Bridger, and fell him with it 
 to the earth. He might have found this no 
 easy task, had not the unfortunate leader re- 
 ceived two arrows in his back during the 
 struggle. 
 
 The chief now sprang into the vacant saddle 
 and galloped off to his band. A wild hurry- 
 skurry scene ensued ; each party took the 
 banks, the rocks, and trees, to gain favorable 
 positions, and an irregular firing was kept up 
 on either side, without much effect. The 
 Indian girl had been hurried off by her people, 
 at the outbreak of the affray. She would have 
 returned, through the dangers of the fight, to 
 her husband and her child, but was prevented 
 by her brother. The young Mexican saw her 
 struggles and her agony, and heard her pier- 
 cing cries With a generous impulse, he 
 caught up the child in his arms, rushed for- 
 ward, regardless of Indian shaft or rifle, and 
 placed it in safety upon her bosom. Even the 
 savage heart of the Blackfoot chief was reached 
 
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 ^sm. 
 
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 Xoretto anO Dis ITndian mite 
 
 133 
 
 by this noble deed. He pronounced Loretto a 
 madman for his temerity, but bade him depart 
 in peace. The young Mexican hesitated : he 
 urged to have his wife restored to him, but her 
 brother interfered, and the countenance of the 
 chief grew dark. The girl, he said, belonged 
 to his tribe — she must remain with her people, 
 lyoretto would still have lingered, but his wife 
 implored him to depart, lest his life should be 
 endangered. It was with the greatest reluc- 
 tance that he returned to his companions. 
 
 The approach of night put an end to the 
 skirmishing fire of the adverse parties, the 
 savages drew off without renewing their 
 hostilities. We cannot but remark, that 
 both in this affair and in that of Pierre's 
 Hole, the affray commenced by a hostile act on 
 the part of white men, at the moment when 
 the Indian warrio*- was extending the hand of 
 amity. In neither instance, as far as circum- 
 stances have been stated to us by different per- 
 sons, do we see any reason to suspect the 
 savage chiefs of perfidy in their overtures of 
 friendship. They advanced in the confiding 
 way usual among Indians when they bear 
 the pipe of peace, and consider themselves 
 sacred from attack. If we violate the sanctity 
 of this ceremonial, by any hostile movement 
 on our part, it is we who incur the charge of 
 
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 JBonncville's 2l5vcntures 
 
 faithlessness ; and we doubt not that in both 
 these instances the white men have been con- 
 sidered by the Blackfeet as the aggressors, and 
 fy| |( * have, in consequence, been held up as men not 
 to be trusted. 
 
 A word to conclude the romantic incident 
 of Lroretto and his Indian bride. A few 
 months subsequ(?nt to the event just related, 
 the young Mexican settled his accounts with 
 the Rocky Mountain Company, and obtained 
 his discharge. He then left his comrades and 
 set off to rejoin his wife and child among her 
 people ; and we imderstand that, at the time we 
 are writing these pages, he resides at a trading- 
 house established of late by the American Fur 
 Company, in the Black foot country, where he 
 acts as an interpreter and has his Indian girl 
 with him. 
 
 i/ 
 
 *^" 
 
 -^:^ 
 
m 
 
 Chapter J'lFII. 
 
 [a 
 
 b 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 A Winter Camp in the Wilderness — Medley of Trap- 
 pers, Hunters, and Indians — Scarcity of Cranie — New 
 Arrangements in the Camp — Detachments Sent to a 
 Distance — Carelessness of the Indians when En- 
 camped — Sickness among the Indians — Excellent 
 Character of the Nez Perccs— The Captain's Effort 
 as a Pacificator — A Nez Perce's Argument in I'avor 
 of War — Robberies by the lUackfeet — Long-Suffer- 
 ing of the Nez Perccs — a Hunter's Elysiutn among 
 the Mountains — More Robberies — The Captain 
 Preaches up a Crusade — The Effect upon his 
 Hearers. 
 
 FOR the greater \ '^ of ihe motith of No- 
 vember, Captain Bonneville remained in 
 his temporary post on Salmon River. 
 He was now in the full enjoyment of his 
 wishes ; leading a hunter's life in the heart 
 of the wilderness, with all its wild populace 
 around him. Besides his own people, motley 
 in character and costume — Creole, Kentuckian, 
 Indian, half-breed, . ired trapper, and free 
 
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 III 
 
 trapper — he was surrounded by encampments 
 of Nez Perces and Flatheads, with their droves 
 of horses covering the hills and plains. It 
 was, he declares, a wild and bustling scene. 
 The hunting parties of white men and red 
 men, continually sallying forth and returning ; 
 the groups at the various encampments, some 
 cooking, some working, some amusing them- 
 selves af different games ; the neighing of 
 horses, the braying of asses, the resounding 
 strokes of the axe, the sharp report of the 
 rifle, the whoop, the halloo, and the frequent 
 burst of laughter, all in the midst of a region 
 suddenh roused from perfect silence and lone- 
 liness by this transient hunters' sojourn, 
 realized, he says, the idea of a " populous 
 solitude." 
 
 The kind and genial character of the cap- 
 tain had, evidently, its influence on the oppo- 
 site races thus fortuitouslj' congregated to- 
 gether. The most perfect harmony prevailed 
 between them. The Indians, he says, were 
 friendly in their dispositions, and honest to the 
 most scrupulous degree, in their intercourse 
 with the white men. It is true they were 
 somewhat importunate in their curiosity, and 
 apt to be continually in the way, examining 
 everything witii keen and prying eye, and 
 watching every movement of the white men. 
 

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 tfnDian fsorses 
 
 All this, however, was borne with great good- 
 humor by the captain, and through his exam- 
 ple by his men. Indeed, throughout all his 
 transactions, he shows himself the friend of the 
 poor Indians, and his conduct towards them is 
 above all praise. 
 
 The Nez Perces, the Flatheads, and the 
 Hanging-Ears pride themselves upon the num- 
 ber of their horses, of which they possess more 
 in proportion than any other of the mountain 
 tribes within the buffalo range. Many of the 
 Indian warriors and hunters, encamped around 
 Captain Bonneville, possess from thirty to forty 
 horses each. Their hon i are stout, well built 
 ponies, of great wind, and capable of enduring 
 the severest hardship and fatigue. The swiftest 
 of them, however, are those obtained from the 
 whites while sufficiently young to become ac- 
 climated and inured to the rough service of the 
 mountains. 
 
 By degrees the populousness of this encamp- 
 ment began to produce its inconveniences. 
 The immense droves of horses owned by the 
 Indians consumed the herbage of the surround- 
 ing hills ; while, to drive them to any distant 
 pasturage, in a neighborhood aVjounding with 
 lurking and deadly enemies, would be to en- 
 danger the loss both of man and beast. Game 
 too, began to grow scarce. It was soon hunted 
 
 
 
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 and frightened out of the vicinity, and though 
 the Indians made a wide circuit through the 
 mountains in the hope of driving the buffalo 
 towards the cantomnent, their expedition was 
 unsuccessful. It was plain that so large a party 
 could not subsist themselves there, nor in any 
 one place, throughout the winter. Captain 
 Bonneville, therefore, altered his whole ar- 
 rangements. He detached fifty men towards 
 the .south to winter upon Snake River, and to 
 trap about its waters in the .spring, with orders 
 to rejoin him in the month of July, at Hor.se 
 Creek, in Green River Valley, which he had 
 fixed upon as the general rendez^'ous of his 
 company for the en.suing year. 
 
 Of all his late party, he now retained with 
 him merely a small number of free trappers, 
 with whom he intended to sojourn among the 
 Nez Perces and Flatiieads, and adopt the In- 
 dian mode of moving with the game and gra,ss. 
 Those bands, in effect, shortly afterwards broke 
 up their encampments and set off for a less 
 beaten neighborhood. Captain Bonneville re- 
 mained behind for a few days, that he might 
 secretlj' prepare caches, in which to deposit 
 everything not required for current u.se. Thus 
 lightetied of all .superfluous incumbrance, he 
 .set off on the 20tli of November to rejoin his 
 Indian allies. He found them encamped in a 
 
 
 4,M 
 
 (^v. 
 
t \4 
 
 Care of fjorses 
 
 139 
 
 secluded part of the country, at the head of a 
 small stream. Considering themselves out of 
 all danger, in this sequesteretl spot, from their 
 old enemies, the Blackfeet, their encampment 
 manifested the most negligent security. Their 
 lodges were .scattered in every direction, and 
 their horses covered every liui lor a great dis- 
 tance round, grazing upon the upland bunch 
 grass, which grew in great abundance, and, 
 though dry, retained its nutritious 'properties 
 iiustead of lo.snig them, like other grasses, in 
 the autumn. 
 
 When the Nez Perces, Flatheads, and Pends 
 Oreilles are encamped in a dcMigerous neigh- 
 borhood, says Captain Bonneville, the greate.-sL 
 care is taken of tlieir horses, those prime arti- 
 cles of Indian wealth, and objects of Indian 
 depredation. Each warrior has his hor.se tied 
 by one foot at night to a stake planted before 
 his lodge. Here they remain until broad day- 
 light ; by that time the yoinig men of the camp 
 are already ranging over the surrounding hills. 
 Iwch family then drives its liorses to some 
 eligible soot, where they are left to graze unat- 
 tended. A j'oung Indian repairs occasionally 
 to the pa. ture to give them water, and to see 
 that all is well. So accustomed are the horses 
 to this managetr int, that they keep together in 
 
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 the pr-sture where they have been left. 
 
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 sun sinks behind the hills, they may be seen 
 moving from all points towards the camp, 
 where thej- surrender themselves to be tied up 
 for the night. Even in situations of datiger, 
 the Indians rarely set guards over their camp 
 at night, intrusting that office entirely to their 
 vigilant and well trained dogs. 
 
 In an encampment, however, of such fancied 
 security as that in which Captain Bonneville 
 found his Indian friends, much of these pre- 
 cautions with respect to their horses are omit- 
 ted. They merely drive them, at nightfall, to 
 some sequestered little dell, and leave them 
 there, at perfect liberty, until the' morning. 
 
 One object of Captain Bonneville in winter- 
 ing among these Indiatis, was to procure a 
 supply of horses against the spring. They 
 were, however, extremely unwilling to part 
 with any, and it was with great difficulty that 
 he purchased, at the rate of twenty dollars 
 each, a few for the use of some of his free 
 trappers, who were on foot, and dependent on 
 him for their equipment. 
 
 In this encampment Captain Boinieville re- 
 mained from the 21st of November to the 9th 
 of December. During this period the ther- 
 mometer ranged from thirteen to forty-two 
 degrees. There were occasional falls of snow ; 
 but it generally melted away almost immedi- 
 
 <A 
 
^tc; 
 
 m 
 
 Concern ^clt for /Ibattbicu 
 
 141 
 
 v'l 
 
 \\\i 
 
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 ately, and the tender blades of new grass began 
 to shoot up among the old. On the 7th of 
 December, however, the thermometer fell to 
 seven degrees. 
 
 The reader will recollect that, on distributing 
 his forces, when in Green River Valley, Cap- 
 tain Botnieville had detached a party, headed 
 by a leader of the name of Matthieu, with all 
 the weak and disabled horses, to sojourn about 
 Bear River, meet the Shoshonie bands, and 
 afterwards to rejoin him at his winter camp on 
 Salmon River. 
 
 More than sufficient time had elapsed, yet 
 Matthieu failed to make his appear^ ice, and 
 uneasiness began to be felt on his account. 
 Captain Boinieville .sent out four men to range 
 the country through which he would have to 
 pass, and endeavor to get some information 
 concerning him ; for his route lay across the 
 great Snake River plain, which spreads itself 
 out like an Aiabian desert, and on which 
 a cavalcade could be descried at a great dis- 
 tance. The scouts soon returned, having pro- 
 ceeded no farther than the edge of the plain, 
 pretending that their horses were lame ; but it 
 was evident they had feared to venture, with 
 so small a force, into these exposed and dan- 
 gerous regions. 
 
 A disease, which Captain Bonneville sup- ^'/ 
 
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 143 
 
 JSonnevillc'B B^vcnturce 
 
 £^< 
 
 ■ <>-■ 
 
 posed to be pneumotiia, now appeared among 
 the Indians, carrying oflFnumbers of them, after 
 an iUness of three or four days. 
 
 The worthy captain acted as physician, pre- 
 scribing profuse sweatings and copious bleed- 
 ings, and unifonnly with success, if the patient 
 was subsequently treated with proper care. 
 In extraordinary cases, the poor savages called 
 
 f(kCM^ i" the aid of their own doctors or conjurers, 
 
 •^ >'* ^vho officiated with great noise and mummery, 
 but with little benefit. Those who died during 
 this epidemic, were buried in graves, after the 
 manner of the whites, but witliout any regard 
 to the direction of the head. It is a fact worthy 
 of notice, that, while this malady made such 
 ravages among the natives, not a single white 
 
 l^s'^ ' ni^ii had the slightest symptom of it. 
 ■- '1^ ' A familiar intercourse of some standing with 
 the Pierced-Nosed and Flathead Indians had 
 now convinced Captain Bonneville of their 
 amicable and inoffensive character ; he began 
 to take a strong interest in them, and conceived 
 the idea of becoming a pacificator, and healing 
 the deadly feud between them and the Black- 
 feet, in which thej' were so deplorably the suf- 
 ferers. He proposed the matter to some of the 
 leaders, and urged that they should meet the 
 Blackfeet chiefs in a grand pacific conference, 
 
 ^'yiMy offering to send two of his men to the enemy's 
 
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 AV 
 
 V 
 
 t-T^- 
 
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^V^^stxtT^^/'^ 
 
 B Council of Wat 
 
 ^^i-i 
 
 camp with pipe, tobacco, and flag of truce, to 
 negotiate the proposed meeting. 
 
 The Nez Perces and Flathead sages, upon 
 this, held a council of war, of two days' dura- 
 tion, in which there was abundance of hard 
 smoking and long talking, and both eloqaence 
 and tobacco were nearly exhausted. At length 
 they came to a decision to reject the worthy 
 captain's proposition, and upon pretty substan- 
 tial grounds, as the reader may judge. 
 
 "War," said the chiefs, " is a bloody busi- 
 ness, and full of evil ; but it keeps the eyes of 
 the chiefs always open, and makes the limbs 
 of the young men strong and supple. In war, 
 every one is on the alert. If we see a trail, we 
 know it nuist be an enemy ; if the Blackfeet 
 come to us, we know it is for war, and we are 
 ready. Peace, on the other hand, .sounds no 
 alarm ; the eyes of the chiefs are clo.sed in 
 sleep, and the young men are sleek and lazy. 
 The horses stray into the mountains ; the 
 women and their little babes go about alone. 
 But the heart of a Blackfoot is a lie, and his 
 tongue is a trap. If he says peace, it is to de- 
 ceive ; he comes to us as a brother : he smokes 
 his pipe with us ; but when he sees us weak, 
 and off our guard, he will .slay and steal. We 
 will have no such peace ; let there be war ! ' ' 
 
 With this reasoning, Captain Bonneville was 
 
 ■<r- 
 
 ./■'■. 
 
 « «i 
 
V < 
 
 144 
 
 :tSonn:viIlc'6 BDvcnturce 
 
 fain to acquiesce ; but, since the sagacious 
 Flatheads and their allies were content to re- 
 main in a state of warfare, he wished them, at 
 least, to exercise the boasted vigilance which 
 war was to produce, and to keep their eyes 
 open. He represented to them the impossi- 
 bility, that two such considerable clans could 
 move about the country without leaving trails 
 by which they might be traced. Besides, 
 among the Blackfeet braves were several Nez 
 Perces, who had been taken prisoners in early 
 youth, adopted by their captors, and trained 
 up and imbued with warlike and predatory 
 notions ; these had lost all sympathies with 
 their native tribe, and would be prone to lead 
 the enemy to their secret liaunts. He exhorted 
 thcni, therefore, to keep upon the alert, and 
 never to remit their vigilance, while within the 
 range of so crafty arid cruel a foe. All these 
 counsels were lost upon his easy and simple- 
 minded hearers. A careless indififereriCe reigned 
 througliout their encampments, and their 
 horses were permitted to range the hills at 
 night in perfect freedom. Captain Bonneville 
 had his own horses brought in at night, and 
 properly picketed and guaided. The evil he 
 apprehended soon took place. Pn a single 
 night, a sweep was made thiougii the neighbor- 
 ing pastures by the Blackfeet, and eighty-six 
 
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 ■Robbcrg bg tbe JBlacftfcc 
 
 145 
 
 of the finest horses carried off. A whip and a 
 rope were left in a conspicuous situation by the 
 robbers, as a taunt to the simpletons they had 
 unhorsed. 
 
 Long before sunrise, the news of this calam- 
 ity spread like wildfire through the different 
 encampments. Captain Bonneville, whose own 
 horses remained safe at their pickets, watched 
 in momentary expectation of an outbreak of 
 warriors, Pierced-Nose and Flathead, in furious 
 pursuit of the marauders ; but no such thing 
 — they contented themselves with searching 
 diligently over hill and dale, to glean up such 
 horses as had escaped the hands of the maraud- 
 ers, and then resigned themselves to their loss 
 with the most exemplary quiescence. 
 
 Some, it is true, who were entirely unhorsed, 
 set out on a begging visit to their cousins, as 
 they call them, the Lower Nez Perces, who 
 inhabit the lower country about the Columbia, 
 and possess horses in abundance. To these 
 they repair when in difficulty, and seldom fail, 
 by dint of begging and bartering, to get them- 
 selves once more mounted on horseback. 
 
 Game had now become scarce in the neigh- 
 borhood of the camp, and it was necessarj-, 
 according to Indian custom, to move off to a 
 less beaten ground. Captain Bonneville pro- 
 posed the Horse Prairie ; but his Indian friends 
 
 
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 objected that many of the Nez Perces had 
 gone to visit their cousins, and that the whites 
 were few in number, so that their united force 
 was not sufficient to venture on the buffalo 
 grounds, which were infested by bands of 
 Blackfeet. 
 
 They now spoke of a place at no great dis- 
 tance, which they represented as a perfect 
 hunter's elysium. It was on the right branch, 
 or head stream of the river, locked up among 
 cliffs and precipices, where there was no danger 
 from roving bands, and where the Blackfeet 
 dare not enter. Here, they said, the elk 
 abounded, and the mountain sheep were to be 
 seen trooping upon the rocks and hills. A 
 little distance beyond it, also, herds of Buffalo 
 were to be met with, out of the range of a^nger. 
 Thither they proposed to move their camp. 
 
 The proposition pleased the captain, who 
 was desirous, through the Indians, of becom- 
 ing acquainted with all the secret places of 
 the land. Accordingly, on the 9th of Decem- 
 ber, they .'Struck their tents, and moved for- 
 ward by short stages, as many of the Indians 
 were yet feeble from the late malady. 
 
 Following up the right fork of the river, 
 they came to where it entered a deep gorge of 
 the mountains, up which, lay the secluded 
 region so much vaunted by the Indians. Cap- 
 
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 M> 
 
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 Xoiid'Sufterind of tbe Dei; Percys 
 
 tain Bonneville halted, and encamped for three 
 days, before entering the gorge. In the mean- 
 time, he detached five of his free trappers to 
 scour the hills and kill as many elk as possible, 
 before the main body should enter, as they 
 would then be soon frightened away by the 
 various Indian hunting parties. 
 
 While thus encamped, they were still liable 
 to the marauds of the Blackfeet, and Captain 
 Bonneville admonished his Indian friends to 
 be upon their guard. The Nez Perces, how- 
 ever, notwithstanding their recent loss, were 
 still careless of their horses ; merely driving 
 them to some secluded spot, and leaving them 
 there for the night, without setting any guard 
 upon them. The consequence was a second 
 swoop, in which forty-one were carried off. 
 This was borne with equal philosophy with the 
 first, and no effort was made either to recover 
 the horses, or to take vengeance on the thieves. 
 
 The Nez Perces, however, grew more cau- 
 tious with respect to their remaining horses, 
 driving them regularly to the camp every 
 evening, and fastening tliem to pickets. Cap- 
 tain Bonneville, however, told them that this 
 was not enough. It was evident that they 
 were dogged by a daring and persevering 
 enemy, who was encouraged by past impunity ; 
 they should, therefore, take more than usual 
 
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 precautions, and post a guard at night over 
 their cavalry. They could not, however, be 
 persuaded to depart from their usual custom. 
 The horse once picketed, the care of the owner 
 was over for the night, and he slept profoundly. 
 None waked in the camp but the gamblers, 
 who, absorbed in their play, were more difficult 
 to be roused to external circumstances than 
 even the sleepers. 
 
 The Blackfeet are bold enemies, and fond of 
 hazardous exploits. The band that were hov- 
 ering about the neighborhood, finding they 
 had such pacific people to deal with, redoubled 
 their daring. The horses being now picketed 
 before the lodges, a number of Blackfeet scouts 
 penetrated in the early part of the night into the 
 very centre of the camp. Here they went about 
 among the lodges, as calmly and deliberately 
 as if at home, quietly cutting loose the horses 
 that stood picketed by the lodges of their 
 sleeping owners. One of these prowlers, more 
 adventurous than the rest, approached a fire, 
 round which a group of Nez Perces were gam- 
 bling with the most intense eagerness. Here 
 he stood for some time, muffled up in his robe, 
 peering over the shoulders of the players watch- 
 ing the changes of their countenances and 
 the fluctuations of the game. So completely 
 engrossed were they, that the presence of this 
 
 ^^^%2 
 
 ^'i^^\ 
 ^f^ 
 
 41 
 
(V 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 Darind jEnemies 
 
 muffled eavesdropper was unnoticed, and hav- 
 ing executed his bravado, he retired undis- 
 covered. 
 
 Having cut loose as many horses as they 
 could conveniently carry off, the Blackfeet 
 scouts rejoined their comrades, and all re- 
 mained patiently round the camp. By degrees, 
 the horses, finding themselves at liberty, took 
 their route towards their customary grazing 
 ground. As they emerged from the camp, 
 they were silently taken possession of, until, 
 having secured about thirty, the Blackfeet 
 sprang on their backs and scampered off. The 
 clatter of hoofs startled the gamblers from 
 their game. The}' gave the alarm, which 
 soon roused the sleepers from everj- lodge. 
 Still all was quiescent ; no marshalling offerees, 
 no saddling of steed and dashing off in pursuit, 
 no talk of retribution for their repeated out- 
 rages. The patience of Captain Bonneville 
 was at length exhausted. He had played the 
 part of a pacificator without success ; he now 
 altered his tone, and resolved, if possible, to 
 rouse their war spirit. 
 
 Accordingly, convoking their chiefs, he 
 inveighed against their craven policy, and 
 urged the necessity of vigorous and retributive 
 measures, that would check the confidence 
 and presumption of their enemies, if not inspire 
 
 
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 5l9oiinevi[(e'd Bdvcntures 
 
 them with awe. For this purpose, he advised 
 that a war party should be immediately sent 
 ofiF on the trail of the marauders, to follow 
 them, if necessary, into the very heart of the 
 Blackfoot country, and not to leave them until 
 they had taken signal vengeance. Beside this, 
 he recommended the organization of minor 
 war parties, to make reprisals to the extent of 
 the lossses sustained. " Unless you rouse 
 yourselves from your apathy," said he, "and 
 strike some bold and decisive blow, you will 
 cease to be considered men, or objects of manly 
 warfare. The very squaws and children of 
 the Blackfeet will be sent against you, while 
 their warriors reser\-e themselves for noMer 
 antagonists. ' ' 
 
 This harangue had evidently a momentary 
 effect upon the pride of the hearers. After a 
 short pause, however, one of the orators arose. 
 It was bad, he said, to go to war for mere re- 
 venge. The Great Spirit had given them a 
 heart for peace, not for war. Thej' had lost 
 horses, i*^ was true, but they could easily get 
 others Irom their cousins, the I,ower Nez 
 Perces, without incurring any risk ; whereas, 
 in war they should lose men, who were not so 
 readily replaced. As to their late losses, an 
 increased watchfulness would prevent any 
 more misfortunes of the kind. He disapproved, 
 
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 --^^-V' , ^ ••*f^!^^i^ Ci><^::^:^> 1'^, iS^^'^Sf^^ <^^y ''^' 
 
 '^ > i:/' C^-cjrriT^ > His. ^Trct^ 
 
 TKnarUke 'barangue 151 
 
 therefore, of all hostile measures ; and all the 
 other chiefs concurred in his opinion. 
 
 Captain Bonucville again took up the point. 
 "It is true," said he, "the v>reat Spirit has 
 given you a heart to love j'our friends ; but he 
 has also given you an arm to strike your ene- 
 mies. Unless you do something speedily to 
 put an end to this continual blundering, I must 
 say farewell. As yet, I have sustained no loss ; 
 thanks to the precautions which you have 
 slighted : but my property is too unsafe here ; 
 my turn will come next ; I and my people will 
 share the contempt you are bringing upon 
 yourselves, and will be thought, like you, 
 poor-spirited beings, who may at any time be 
 plundered wit' impunity. ' ' 
 
 The conference broke up with some signs of 
 excitement on the part of the Indians. Early 
 the next morning, a party of thirty men set off 
 in pursuit of the foe, and Captain Bonneville 
 hoped to hear a good account of the Blackfeet 
 marauders. To his disappointment, the war 
 party came lagging back on the following day, 
 leading a few old, sorr>', broken-down horses, 
 which the freebooters had not been able to 
 urge to sufficient speed. The effort exhausted 
 the martial spirit and satisfied the wounded 
 pride of the Nez Perces. and they relapsed into 
 their usual state of passive indifiFerence. 
 
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 ')&^r^^:^r^L 
 
 Gbapter fllllir. 
 
 Story of Kosato, the Renegade Blackfoot 
 
 IF the meekness and long-swflfering of the 
 Pierced-Noses grieved the spirit of Captain 
 Bonneville, there was another individual 
 in the camp, to whom they were still more 
 annoying. This w'as a Blackfoot renegado, 
 named Kosato, a fiery, hot-blooded youth, who, 
 with a beatitifnl girl of the same tribe, had 
 taken refuge among the Nez Perccs. Though 
 adopted into the tribe, he still retained the 
 warlike spirit of his race, and loathed the 
 peaceful, inoffensive habits of those around 
 him. The hunting of the deer, the elk, and 
 the buffalo, which was the height of their am- 
 bition, was too tame to satisfy his wild and 
 restless nature. His heart burned for the 
 foray, the ambush, the .skirmish, the scamper, 
 and all the haps and hazards of roving and 
 predatory warfare. 
 
 The recent hoverings of the Blackfeet about 
 152 
 
i • 
 
 1^ 
 
 
 J 
 
 '%^0^^m^. 
 
 s 
 
 Cc 
 
 ftoaato, tbc IRcnc^a^c JBlachtoot 
 
 the camp, and their nightly prowls, and daring 
 and successful marauds, had kept him in a 
 fever and a flutter ; like a hawk in a cage, 
 who hears his late companions swooping and 
 screaming in wild liberty above him. The 
 attempt of Captain Bonneville to rouse the war 
 spirit of the Nez Perces, air' prompt them to 
 retaliation, was ardently seconded by Kosato, 
 For several days he was incessantly devising 
 schemes of vengeance, and endeavoring to set 
 on foot an expedition that should carry dismay 
 and desolation into the Blackfeet towns. All 
 his art was exerted to touch upon those springs 
 of humai; action with which he was most fa- 
 miliar. He drew the listening savages round 
 him by his ner\'ous eloquence ; taunted them 
 with recitals of past wrongs and insults ; drew 
 glowing pictures of triumphs and trophies 
 within their reach ; recounted tales of daring 
 and romantic enterprise, of secret marchings, 
 covert lurkings, n\idnight surprisals, sackings, 
 burnings, plunderings, '"".Ipings ; together 
 with the triumphant return, and the feasting 
 and rejoicing of the victors. These wild tales 
 were intermingled with the beating of the 
 drum, the yell, the war-whoop, and the war- 
 dance, so inspiring to Indian valor. All, 
 however, were lost upon the peaceful spirits of 
 his hearers ; not a Nez Perce was to be roused 
 
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 J8onncvtl(e'0 BJ>venti •"' 
 
 154 
 
 to vengeance, or stimulated to glorious \var. 
 In the bitterness of his heart, the Blackfoot 
 renegado repined at the mishap which had 
 severed him from a race of congenial spirits, 
 and driven him to take refuge among beings 
 so destitute of martial fire. 
 
 Tlie character and conduct of this man at- 
 tracted the attention of Captain Bonneville, 
 and he was anxious to hear the reason why he 
 had deserted his tribe, and why he looked 
 back upon them with such deadly hostility. 
 Kosato told him his own story briefly ; — it 
 gives a picture of the deep, strong passions 
 that work in the bosoms of these miscalled 
 stoics. 
 
 " You see my wife," said he; " she is good ; 
 she is beautiful — I love her. Yet, she has 
 been the cause of all my troubles. She was 
 the wife of my chief. I loved her more than 
 he did ; and she knew it. We talked to- 
 gether ; we laughed together ; we were always 
 seeking each other's society ; but we were as 
 innocent as children. The chief grew jealous, 
 and commanded her to speak with me no 
 more. His heart became hard towards her ; 
 his jealousy grew more furious. He beat her 
 without cause and without mercy ; and threat- 
 ened to kill her outright, if she even looked at 
 me. Do you want traces of his fury ? Look 
 
 4' 
 
Stors of ftosato 
 
 155 
 
 B 
 
 at that scar ! His rage against me was no less 
 persecuting. War parties of the Crows were 
 hovering round us ; our young men had seen 
 their trail. All hearts were roused for action ; 
 my horses were before my lodge. Suddenly 
 the chief came, took them to his own pickets, 
 and called them his own. What could I do ? — 
 he was a chief. I durst not speak, but my 
 heart was burning. I joined no longer in the 
 council, the hunt, or the war-feast. What had 
 I to do there ? an unhorsed, degraded warrior. 
 I kept by myself, and thought of nothing but 
 these wrongs and outrages. 
 
 "I was .sitting one evening upon a knoll 
 that overlooked the meadow where the horses 
 were pastured. I saw the horses that were 
 once mine grazing among those of the chief. 
 This maddened me, and I sat brooding for a 
 time over the injuries I had suffered, and the 
 cruelties which she I loved had endured for 
 my sake, until my heart swelled and grew 
 sore, and my teeth were clinched. As I looked 
 down upon the meadow, I saw the chief walk- 
 ing among his horses. I fastened my eyes on 
 him as a hawk's ; my blood boiled ; I drew 
 my breath hard. He went among the willows. 
 In an instant I was on my feet : my hand was 
 on my knife — I flew rather than ran — before 
 he was aware, I sprang upon him, and with 
 
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 III 
 
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 III 
 
 3Qoitncril(c'd B^vcnturc^ 
 
 two blows laid hitn dead at tny feet. I covered 
 his body with earth, and strewed bushes over 
 the place ; then hastened to her I loved, told 
 her what I had done, and urged her to fly with 
 lue. She only answered nie with tears. I 
 reminded her of the wrongs I had suffered, 
 and of the blows and stripes she had endured 
 from the deceased ; I had done nothing but an 
 act of justice. I again urged her to fly ; but 
 she only wept the moie, and bade me go. .My 
 heart was heavy, but my eyes were dry. I 
 folded my arms. ' 'Tis well,' said I, ' Kosato 
 will go alone to the desert. None will be with 
 him but the wild beasts of the desert. The 
 seekers of blood may follow on his trail. They 
 may come upon him when he sleeps, and glut 
 their revenge ; but you will be safe. Kosato 
 will go jl(me.' 
 
 " I turned away. She sprang after me, and 
 strained me in her arms. *No,' cried she, 
 ' Kosato shall not go alone ! Wherever he 
 goes I will go — he shall never part from me. ' 
 
 " We hastily took in our hands such things 
 as we most needed, and stealing quietly from 
 the village, mounted the first horses we en- 
 countered. Speeding day and night, we soon 
 reached this tribe. They received us with 
 welcome, and we have dwelt with them in 
 peace. They are good and kind : they are 
 
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 StorKj or Ikodato 
 
 honest ; but their hearts are the hearts of 
 \.()inen. " 
 
 Such was the story of Kosato, as related l)y 
 him to Captain Bonneville. It is of a kind 
 that often occurs in Indian life ; where love 
 elopements from tribe to tribe are as frequent 
 as among the novel-read heroes and heroines 
 of sentinieJital civilization, and often give rise 
 to bloody and lasting feuds. 
 
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^^<<:*^<,j>fi 
 
 ^.-^ 
 
 II 
 
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 Cbaptcc PW. 
 
 The Part} Enters the Mountain Gorge — A Wild 
 Fastness among the Hills — Mountain Mutton — 
 Peace and Plenty — The Amorous Trapper — A Pie- 
 bald Wedding— A Free Trapper's Wife— Her Gala 
 Equipments — Christmas in the Wilderness. 
 
 O 
 
 N the 19th of Deceml)er Captain Bonne- 
 ville and his confederate Indians raised 
 their camp, and entered the narrow 
 gorge made by the north fork of Salmon River. 
 Up this laj- the secure and plenteous hunting 
 region so temptingly described by the Indians. 
 Since leaving Green River the plains had 
 invariabl}' been of loose sand or coarse gravel, 
 and the rocky formation of the mountains of 
 primitive limestone. The rivers, in general, 
 were skirted with willows and bitter cotton- 
 wood trees, and the prairies covered with 
 wormwood. In the hollow breast of the 
 mountains which they were now penetrating, 
 the surrounding heights were clothed with 
 
 ■«-■?<; V 
 
 .V 
 
 i 
 
 !j 
 
t 
 
 pine ; while the declivities of the lower hills 
 afforded abundance of bunch grass for the 
 horses. 
 
 As the Indians had represented, they were 
 now in a natural fastness of the mountains, 
 the ingress and egress of which was by a deep 
 gorge, so narrow, rugged, and difficult, as to 
 prevent secret approach or rapid retreat, and 
 to admit of easy defense. The Blackfeet, 
 therefore, refrained from venturing in after the 
 Nez Perces, awaiting a better chance, when 
 they should once more emerge into the open 
 fijjj country. 
 
 Captain Bonneville soon found that the 
 Indians had not exaggerated the advantages 
 of this region. Besides numerous gangs of 
 elk, large flocks of the ahsahta or bighorn, the 
 mountain sheep, were to be seen bounding 
 among the precipices. These simple animals 
 were easily circumvented and destroyed. A 
 few hunters may surround a flock and kill as 
 many as they please. Numbers were daily 
 brought into camp, and the flesh of those 
 which were young and fat was extolled as 
 superior to the finest mutton. 
 
 Here, then, there was a cessation from toil, 
 from hunger, and alarm. Past ills and dangers 
 were forgotten. The hunt, the game, the song, 
 the story, the rough though good-humored 
 
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 SJonnevUle'B BDvcnturcs 
 
 joke, made time pass joyously away, and plenty 
 and seciirit}- reigned throughout the camp. 
 
 Idleness and ease, it is said, lead to love, 
 and love to matrimony, in civilized life, and 
 the same process takes place in the wilderness. 
 Filled with good cheer and mountain mutton, 
 one of the free + rappers began to repine at the 
 solitude of his lodge, and to experience the 
 force of that great law of nature, " It is not 
 meet for man to live alone." 
 
 After a night of grave cogitation, he repaired 
 to Kowsoter, the Pierced-Xose chief ; and un- 
 folded to him the secret workings of his bosom. 
 
 "I want," said he, " a wife. Give me one 
 from among j-our tribe. Not a young, giddy- 
 pated girl, that will think of notliing but 
 flaunting and finery, but a .sober, discreet, 
 hard-working squaw ; one that will share my 
 lot without flinching, however hard it may be ; 
 that can take care of my lodge and be a com- 
 panion and a helpmate to me in the wilder- 
 ness." Kowsoter promised to look around 
 among the females of his tribe, and procure 
 such a one as he desired. Two days were 
 requisite for the search. At the expiration of 
 these, Kowsoter called at his lodge and informed 
 him that he would bring his 1)ride to him in 
 the course of the afternoon. He kept his word. 
 At the appointed time he approached, leading 
 
 )i 
 
^^^^M^mm^^ 
 
 U (Trapper TlUcODing 
 
 i6i c^^ 
 
 the bride, a comely copper-colored dame, at- 
 tired ill her Indian finery. Her father, mother, 
 brothers by the half dozen, and cousins by the 
 score, all followed on to grace the ceremony, 
 and greet the new and important relative. 
 
 The trapper i'!cei\ed his new and numer- 
 ous family connection with proper solemnity ; 
 he placed his bride beside him, and, filling the 
 pipe, the great symbol of peace, with his best 
 tobacco, took two or three whiffs, then handed 
 it to the chief, who transferred it to the father 
 of the bride, from whom it was passed on from 
 hand to hand and mouth to mouth of the 
 whole circle of kinsmen round the fire, all 
 maintaining the most profound and becoming 
 silence. 
 
 After several pipes had been filled and emp- 
 tied in this solemn ceremonial, the chief ad- 
 dressed the bride ; detailing at considerable 
 length, the duties of a wife, which, among 
 Indians, are little less onerous than those of 
 the pack-horse ; this done, he turned to her 
 friends, and congratulated them upon the great 
 alliance she had made. They showed a due 
 sense of their good fortune, especially when 
 the imptial presents came to be distributed 
 among the chiefs and relatives, amounting to 
 about one hundred and eighty dollars. The 
 company soon retired, and now the worthy 
 
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 trapper found, indeed, that he had no green 
 girl to deal with ; for the knowing dame 
 at once assumed the style and dignity of a 
 trapper's wife, taking possession of the lodge 
 as her • indisputed empire ; arranging every- 
 thing according to her own taste and habitudes ; 
 and appearing as much at home, and on as 
 easy terms with the trapper, as if they had 
 been man and wife for years. 
 
 We have already given a picture of a free 
 trapper and his horse, as furnished by Captain 
 Bonneville ; we shall here subjoin, as a com- 
 panion picture, his description of a free trap- 
 per's wife, that the reader may have a correct 
 idea of the kind of blessing the worthy hunter 
 in question had invoked to solace him in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 "The free trapper, while a bacliiilc-, has no 
 greater pet than his horse ; but the momeiit 
 he takes a wife (a sort of brevet rank in matri- 
 mony occasionally bestowed upon some Indian 
 fair one, like the heroes of ancient chivalry, in 
 the open field), he discovers that he has a still 
 more fanciful and capricious animal on which 
 to lavish his expenses. 
 
 " No sooner does an Indian belle experience 
 this promotion, than all her notions at once 
 rise and expand to the dignity of her situation ; 
 and the purse of her lover, and his credit into 
 
 
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 the bargain, are tasked to the utmost to fit her 
 out in bcconiitig style. The \vi*e of a free 
 trapper to be equipped and arrayed Hke any 
 ordinary and undistinguished squaw ? Perish 
 the groveUing thought ! In the first place, 
 she must have a horse for her own riding ; but 
 no jaded, sorry, earth-spirited hack ; such as 
 is sometimes assigned by an Indian husband 
 for the transportation of his squaw and her 
 pappooses : the wife of a free trapper must 
 have the most beautiful animal she can lay 
 her eyes on. And then, as to his decoration : 
 headstall, breast-bands, saddle, and crupper are 
 lavishly embroidered with beads, and hung 
 with thimbles, hawks" bells, and bunches of 
 ribands. From each side of the saddle hangs 
 an csquimoot, a sort of pocket, in which she 
 bestows the residue of her trinkets and knick- 
 knacks, which cannot be crowded on the dec- 
 oration of her horse or herself. Over this 
 she folds, with great care, a drapery of scarlet 
 and bright-colored calicoes, and now considers 
 the caparison of her steed complete. 
 
 "As to her own person, she is even sail 
 more extravagant. Her hair, esteemed beau- 
 tiful in proportion to its length, is carefully 
 plaited, and made to fall with seeming negli- 
 gence over either breast. Her riding hat is 
 stuck full of parti-colored feathers ; her robe, 
 
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 fashioned somewhat after that of the whites, 
 is of red, green, and sometimes gray cloth, but 
 ahva\'S of the finest texture that can be pro- 
 cured. Her leggins and moccasins are of the 
 most beautiful and expensive workmanship, 
 and fitted neatly to the foot and ankle, which 
 with the Indian women are generally well 
 formed and delicate. Then as to jewelrj' : in 
 the way of finger-rings, ear-rings, necklaces, 
 and other female glides, nothing within reach 
 of the trapper's means is omitted, that can tend 
 to impress the beholder with an idea of the 
 lady's high estate. To finish the whole, she 
 selects from among her blankets of various 
 dyes, one of some glowing color, and throwing 
 it over her shoulders with a native grace, 
 vaults into the saddle of her gay, prancing 
 steed, and is ready to follow her mountaineer 
 ' to the last gasp with love and loyalty.' " 
 
 Such is the general picture of the free trap- 
 per's wife, given by Captain Bonneville ; how 
 far it applied in its details to the one in ques- 
 tion does not altogether appear, though it 
 would seem from the outset of her commbial 
 career, that she was ready to avail herself of 
 all the pomp and circumstance of her new con- 
 dition. It is worthy of mention that, wher- 
 ever there are several wives of free trappers 
 in a camp, the keenest rivalry exists between 
 
 L 
 
them, to the sore detriment of their husbands' 
 '^■J purses. Their whole time is expended, and 
 their ingenuity tasked by endeavors to echpse 
 each other in dress and decoration. The 
 jealousies and heart-burnings thus occasioned 
 among these, so styled, children of nature 
 are equally intense with those of the rival 
 leaders of style and fashion in the luxurious 
 abodes of civilized life. 
 
 The genial festival of Christmas, which 
 throughout all Christendom lights up the fire- 
 side of home with mirth and jollity, followed 
 hard upon the wedding just described. Though 
 far from kindred and friends, Captain Boinie- 
 ville and his handful of free trappers were not 
 disposed to suffer the festival to pass unen- 
 joyed ; thej' were in a region of good cheer, 
 and were disposed to be joyous ; so it was de- 
 termined to "light up the yule clog," and 
 celebrate a merry Christmas in the heart of the 
 wilderness. 
 
 On Christmr.s eve, accordingly, they began 
 their rude fetes and rejoicings. In the course 
 of the night the free trappers surrounded the 
 lodge of the Pierce-Nosed chief, and in lieu of 
 Christmas carols, saluted him with o. feu de 
 joie. 
 
 Kowsoter received it in a truly Christian 
 spirit, and after a speech, in which he ex- 
 
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 presseci his high gratification at the honoi 
 done him, invited the whole company to a 
 ieast on the following day. His invitation 
 was gladly accepted. A Christmas dinner in 
 the wigwam of an Indian chief ! There was 
 novelty in the idea. Not one failed ti; be prcs- 
 \\.5l ent. The banquet was .ser\'ed up in primitive 
 style : .skins of various kinds, nicely dressed 
 for the occasion, were spread upon the ground ; 
 upon these were heaped up abundance of veni- 
 son, elk meat, and mountain mutton ; with 
 various bitter roots, which the Indians use as 
 condiments. 
 
 After a short prayer, the company all seated 
 themselves cross-legged, in Turkish fashion, 
 to the banquet, which passed off with great 
 hilarity. After which various games of strength 
 and agility, by both white men and Indians, 
 closed the Christtnas festivities. 
 
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 Cbaptcr i*U. 
 
 A Hunt after Hunters — Hutij^ry Times — A Voracious 
 Repast — Wintry Weather— Goilin's River— Splen- 
 did Winter Scene on the Great Lava Plain of Snake 
 River — Severe Travelling and Tramping in the 
 Snow — MancEUvres of a Solitary Indian Horseman 
 — Encampment on Snake River — Banneck Indians 
 — The Horse Chief— His Charmed Life. 
 
 THE continued absence of Matthieit and 
 his party had, by this time, caused great 
 uneasiness in the mind of Captain Bonne- 
 ville ; and, finding there was no dependence 
 to be placed upon the perseverance and cottr- 
 age of scotiting parties, in so perilous a quest, 
 he determined to set out himself on the search, 
 atid to keep on until he sliould ascertain some- 
 thing of the object of his solicitude. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 26th December, he left 
 the camp, accompanied by thirteen stark trap- 
 pers and hunters, all well mounted and armed 
 for dangerous enterprise. On the following 
 morning they passed out at the head of the 
 
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 mountain gorge, and sallied forth into the 
 open plain. As they confidently expected a 
 brush with the Black leet, or some other preda- 
 tory horde, they moved with great circum- 
 spection, and kept vigilant watch in their 
 encampments. 
 
 In the course of another day they left the 
 main branch of Salmon River, and proceeded 
 south towards a pass called John Day's Defile. 
 It was severe and arduous travelling. The 
 plains were swept by keen and bitter blasts 
 of wintr>- wind ; the ground was generally 
 covered with snow, game was scarce, so that 
 hunger generally prevailed in the camp, while 
 the want of pasturage soon began to manifest 
 itself in the declining vigor of the horses. 
 
 The party had scarcely encamped on the 
 afternoon of the 28th, when two of the hunt- 
 ers who had sallied forth in quest of game 
 came galloping back in great alarm. While 
 hunting they had perceived a party of sav- 
 ages, evidently manoeuvring to cut them off 
 from the camp ; and nothing had saved them 
 from being entrapped but the speed of their 
 horses. 
 
 These tidings struck dismay into the camp. 
 Captain Bonneville endeavorsd to reassure his 
 men by representing the position of their en- 
 campment, and its capability of defense. He 
 
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 fjunger in tbe Camp 
 
 then ordered the horses to be driven in and 
 picketed, and threw up a rough breastwork of 
 fallen trunks of trees, and the vegetable rub- 
 bish of the wilderness. Within this barrier 
 was maintained a vigilant watch throughout 
 the night, which passed away without alarm. 
 At early dawn they scrutinized the surround- 
 ing plain, to discover whether any enemies 
 had been lurking about during the night ; not 
 a foot-print, however, was to be discovered in 
 the coarse gravel with which the plain was 
 covered. 
 
 Hunger now began to cause more uneasi- 
 ness than the apprehensions of surrounding 
 enemies. After marching a few miles they 
 encamped at the foot of a mountain, in hopes 
 of finding buffalo. It was not until the next 
 day that they discovered a pair of fine bulls 
 on the edge of the plain, among rocks and 
 ravines. Hav'ing now been two days and a 
 half without a mouthful of food, they took 
 especial care that these animals should not 
 escape them. While some of the surest marks- 
 men advanced cautiously with their rifles into 
 the rough ground, four of the best mounted 
 horsemen took their stations in the plain, to 
 run the bulls down should they only be 
 maimed. 
 
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 headlong flight. The half-famished horses 
 were too weak to overtake them on the frozen 
 ground, but SU( ceeded in driving them on the 
 ice, where they slipped and fell, and were easi- 
 \y dispatched. The hunters loaded themselves 
 with beef for present and future supply, and 
 then returned and encamped at the last ii'ght's 
 fire. Here they passed the remainder of the 
 day, cooking, and eating with a voracity pro 
 portioned to previous starvation ; forgetting, 
 in the hearty revel of the moment, the certain 
 dangers with which they were environed. 
 
 The cravings of hunger being satisfied, they 
 now began to debate about their further pro- 
 gress. The men were much disheartened by 
 the hardships they had already endured. In- 
 deed, two who had been in the rear-guard, tak- 
 ing advantageoflhcirposition had deserted and 
 returned to the lodges of the Nez Perces. The 
 prospect ahead was enough to stagger the 
 stoutest heart. They were in the dead of 
 winter. As far as the eye could reach, the 
 wild landscape was wrapped in snow ; which 
 was evidently deepening as they advanced. 
 Over this they would have to toil with the icy 
 wind blowing in their faces ; their horses might 
 give out through want of pasturage ; and they 
 themselves must expect intervals of horrible 
 
 famine like that they had already experienced. 
 
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 With Captain Bonneville, however, perse- 
 verance was a matter of pride ; and having 
 undertaken this enterprise, nothing could turn 
 him back until it was accomplished : though he 
 declares that, had he anticipated the difhcul- 
 ties and sufferings which attended it, he should 
 have flinched from the undertaking 
 
 Onward, therefore, the little band urged 
 their way, keeping along the course of a 
 stream called John Day's Creek. The cold 
 was so intense that they had frefjuently to dis- 
 mount and travel on foot, lest they .should 
 freeze in their saddles. The days, which, at 
 this sea.son, are short enough even in the open 
 prairies, were narroweil to a few hours Ijy the 
 high mountains, which allowed the travellers 
 but a brief enjoyment of the cheering rays of 
 the sun. The snow was, generally, at least 
 twenty inches in depth, and in many places 
 much more : those who dismounted had to beat 
 their way with toilsome steps. Eight miles 
 were considered a good day's journey. The 
 horses were almost famished ; for the herbage 
 was covered by the deep snow, .so that they had 
 nothing to subsist upon but scanty wisps of 
 the dry bunch grass which peered above the 
 surface, and the small branches and twigs of 
 frozen willows and wor:nwo<Kl. 
 
 In this way they urged their slow and pain- 
 
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 JBonncvUIe'd BDvcnturcd 
 
 
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 fill course to the south down John Day's Creek, 
 until it lost itself in a swamp. Here they en- 
 camped upon the ice among stiffened willows, 
 where they were obliged to beat down and 
 clear away the snow to procure pasturage for 
 their horses. 
 
 Hence, they toiled on to Godin River ; so 
 called after an Iroquois hunter in the service 
 of Sublette, who was murdered there by the 
 Blackfeet. Many of the features of this remote 
 wilderness are thus named after scenes of vio- 
 lence and bloodshed that occurred to the early 
 pioneers. It was an act of filial vengeance on 
 the part of Godin's son, Antoine, that, as the 
 reader may recollect, brought on the recent 
 battle at Pierre's Hole. 
 
 From Godin's River, Captain Bonneville 
 and his followers came out upon the plain of 
 the Three Butes ; so called from three singular 
 and isolated hills that rise from the midst. It 
 is a part of the great desert of Snake River, 
 one of the most remarkable tracts beyond the 
 mountains. Could they have experienced a 
 respite from their sufferings and anxieties, the 
 immense landscape spread out before them was 
 calculated to inspire admiration. Winter has 
 its beauties and glories, as well as summer ; 
 and Captain Bonneville had the soul to appre- 
 ciate them. 
 
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 Indians Crossntg a Kivcr to a Trading 
 
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Far away, says he, over the vast plains, and 
 up the steep sides of the lofty mountains, the 
 snow lay spread in dazzling whiteness : and 
 whenever the sun emerged in the morning 
 above the giant peaks, or burst forth from 
 among clouds in his mid-day course, moun- 
 tain and dell, glazed rock and frosted tree, 
 glowed and sparkled with surpassing lustre. 
 The tall pines seemed sprinkled with a silver 
 dust, and the willows, studded with minute 
 icicles reflecting the prismatic rays, brought to 
 mind the fairy trees conj ured up by the caliph's 
 story-teller, to adorn his vale of diamonds. 
 
 The poor wanderers, however, nearly starved 
 with hunger and cold, were in no mood to en- 
 joy the glr.r'.'^s of these brilliant scenes ; 
 though they stamped pictures on their mem- 
 ory which have been recalled with delight in 
 more genial situations. 
 
 Encamping at the west Bute, they found a 
 place swept by the winds, so that it was bare 
 of snow, and there was abundance of bunch 
 grass. Here the horses were turned loose to 
 graze throughout the night. Though for once 
 they had ample pasturage, yet the keen winds 
 were so intense that, in the morning, a mule 
 was found frozen to death. The trappers 
 gathered round and mourned over him as over 
 a cherished friend. They feared their 
 
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 famished horses would soon share his fate, for 
 there seemed scarce blood enough left in their 
 veius to withstand the freezing cold. To beat 
 the way farther through the snow with these 
 enfeebled animals seemed next to impossible ; 
 and despondency began to creep over their 
 hearts when, fortunately, they discovered a 
 trail made by some hunting party. Into this 
 they immediately entered, and ])roceeded with 
 less difficulty. Shortly afterward, a fine buffalo 
 bull came boundiu"; across the snow, and was 
 instantly bmught down bj' the hunters. A 
 fire was soon blazing and crackling, and an 
 ample repast soon cooked, and sooner dis- 
 patched, after which they made some further 
 progress and thcin encamped. One of the men 
 t -Vi^;f reached the camp nearl>- frozen to death ; but 
 good cheer and a blazing fire gradualh ' - 
 stored life, and put his blood in circulation. 
 
 Having now a beaten path, they proceeded 
 the next morning with more facility ; indeed 
 the snow decreased in depth as they receded 
 from the mountains, and the temperature be- 
 came more mild. In the course of the daj', 
 they discovered a .solitary honseman hovering 
 at a distance before them on the plain. They 
 spurred on to overtake him ; but he was better 
 mounted on a fresher steed, and kept at a wary 
 distance, reconnoitring them with evident dis- 
 
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 B XUilD Iborecman 
 
 175 
 
 trust ; the wild dress of the free trappers, their 
 leggi?is, blanket, and cloth caps garnished 
 with fur and topped off with feathers, even 
 their very elf-locks and weather-bronzed com- 
 plexions, gave them the look of Indians rather 
 than Avliite men, and made him mistake them 
 for a war party of some hostile tribe. 
 
 After much manoeuvring, the wild horseman 
 was at length brought to a parley ; but even 
 then he conducted himself with the caution of 
 a knowing prowler of the prairies. Dismount- 
 ing from his horse, and using him as a breast- 
 work, he levelled his gun across his back, and, 
 thus prepared for defense like a wary cruiser 
 upon the high seas, he pcnnitted himself to be 
 approached within speaking distance. 
 
 He prove.' to be an Indian of the Banneck 
 tribe, belonging to a band at no great distance. 
 It was some time before he could be persuaded 
 that he was conversing with a party of white 
 men, and induced to la}' aside his reserve and 
 join them. He then gave them the interesting 
 intelligence, that there were two companies of 
 white men encamped in the neighborhood. This 
 was cheering news to Captain Bonneville ; who 
 hoped to find in one of them the long-sought 
 party of Matthieu. Pushing forward , therefore, 
 with renovated spirits, he reached Snake Ri\'er 
 by nightfall, and there fixed his encampment. 
 
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 Early the next morning (13th January, 1833), 
 diligent search was made about the neighbor- 
 hood for traces of the reported parties of white 
 men. An encampment was soon discovered, 
 about four miles farther up the river ; in which 
 Captain Bonneville, to his great joy, found 
 two of Matthieu's men, from whom he learnt 
 that the rest of his party would be there in the 
 course of a few days. It was a matter of great 
 pride and self-congratulation to Captain Bon- 
 neville, that he had thus accomplished his 
 drearj' and doubtful enterprise ; and he deter- 
 mined to pass some time in this encampment, 
 both to wait the return of Mattliieu, and to 
 give needful repose to men and horses. 
 
 It was, in fact, one of the most eligible and 
 delightful wintering grounds in that whole 
 range of countrj-. The Snake River here 
 wound its devious way between low banks 
 through the great plain of the Three Butes ; 
 and was bordered by wide and fertile meadows. 
 It was studded with islands, which, like the 
 alluvial bottoms, were covered with groves of 
 cotton-wood, thickets of willow, tracts of good 
 lowland grass, and abundance of green rushes. 
 The adjacent plains were so vast in extent, 
 that no single band of Indians could drive the 
 buffalo out of them ; nor was the snow of 
 sufl&cient depth to give any serious incon- 
 
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 venience. Indeed, during the sojourn of Cap- 
 tain Bonneville in this neighborhood, which 
 was in the heart of winter, he found the 
 weather, with the exception of a few cold and 
 stormy days, generally mild and pleasant ; 
 freezing a little at night, but invariably thaw- 
 ing with the morning's sun — resembling the 
 spring weather in the middle parts of the 
 United States. 
 
 The lofty range of the Three Teton^, those 
 great landmarks of the Rocky Mountains, 
 rising in the east, and circling away to the 
 north and west of the great plain of Snake 
 River ; and the mountains of Salt River and 
 Portneuf towards the south, catch the earliest 
 falls of snow. Their white robes lengthen as 
 the winter advances, and spread themselves 
 far into the plain, driving the buffalo in herds 
 to the banks of the river in quest of food ; 
 where they are easily slain in great numbers. 
 
 Such were the palpable advantages of this 
 winter encampment ; added to which, it was 
 secure from the prowlings and plunderings of 
 any petty band of roving Blackfeet ; the diffi- 
 culties of retreat rendering it unwise for those 
 crafty depredators to venture an attack, unless 
 with an overpowering force. 
 
 About ten miles below the encampment lay 
 the Banneck Indians ; numbering about one 
 
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 hundred and twenty lodges. They are brave 
 and cunning warriors, and deadly foes of the 
 Blackfeet, whom they easily overcome in bat- 
 tles where their forces are equal. They are 
 not vengeful and enterprising in warfare, how- 
 ever ; seldom sending war parties to attack 
 the Blackfeet towns, but contenting themselves 
 with defending their own territories and house. 
 About one third of their warriors are armed 
 with fuaees ; the rest with bows and arrows. 
 
 As soon as the .spring opens, they move 
 down the right bank of Snake River, and en- 
 camp at the heads of the Boisce and Payette. 
 Here their horses wax fat on good pasturage, 
 while the tribe revels in plenty upon the flesh 
 of deer, elk, bear, and beaver. They then de- 
 scend a little farther, and are met by the Lower 
 Nez Perccs, with whom they trade for horses ; 
 giving in exchange beaver, buffalo, and buffalo 
 robes. Hence they strike upon the tributary 
 streams on the left bank of Snake River, and 
 encamp at the rise of the Portneuf and Black- 
 foot streams, in the buffalo range. Their 
 horses, although of the Nez Perce breed, are 
 inferior to the parent stock, from being ridden 
 at too early an age ; being often bought when 
 but two years old, and immediately put to 
 hard work. They have fewer horses, also, 
 than most of these migratory tribes. 
 
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 179 
 
 At the time that Captain Bonneville came 
 into the neighborhood of these Indians, they 
 were all in mourning for their chief, surnamed 
 7/W\ ^^^ Horse. This chief was said to possess a 
 charmed life, or rather, to be invulnerable to 
 lead ; no bullet having ever hit him, though 
 he had been in repeated battles, and often shot 
 at bj' the surest marksmen. He had shown 
 great magnanimity in his intercourse with the 
 white men. One of the great men of his 
 family had been slain in an attack upon a band 
 of trappers passing through the territories of 
 .'/ji\\\\ his tribe. Vengeance had been sworn by the 
 L *M^ Bannecks ; but The Horse interfered, declar- 
 ing himself the friend of white men, and, hav- 
 ing great influence and authority among his 
 people, he compelled them to forego all vin- 
 dictive plans, and to conduct themselves ami- 
 cably whenever they came in contact with the 
 traders. 
 
 This chief had bravely fallen in resisting an 
 attack made by the Blackfeet upon his tribe, 
 while encamped at the head of the Godin River. 
 His fall in nowise lessened the faith of his 
 people in his charmed life ; for they declared 
 that it was not a bullet which laid him low, 
 but a bit of Korn which had been .shot into him 
 by some Blackfoot marksman ; aware no doubt, 
 of the inefficiency of lead. Since his death, 
 
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 there was no otie with sufficient influence over 
 the tribe to restrain the wild and predatory- 
 propensities of the youn,i( men. The conse- 
 quence was, they had become troublesome and 
 dangerous neighbors ; openly friendly, for the 
 sake of traffic, l)Ut disposed to commit secret 
 depredations, and to molest any small party 
 that might fall within their reach. 
 
 I 
 
--"W 
 
 
 i^ 
 
 ii 
 
 ( 
 
 ■J I 
 
 Gbapter JDH. 
 
 •^cP 
 
 r-i 
 
 Misadvciituris of Matthicu and his Party — Return to 
 the Caches at Sahnoii River — Battle between Xez 
 Perces and lUackfeet— Ileroistn of a Nez Perce 
 Woman — Knrolled atnon^ the Uraves. 
 
 ON the 3(1 of February, Matthieu, with 
 the residue of liis band, arrived in 
 camp. He had a disastrous story to 
 relate. After parting with Captain Bonneville 
 in Green River \'alley, he had proceeded to 
 the westward, keeping to the north of the Eu- 
 taw Mountains, a .spur of the great Rocky 
 chain. Here he experienced the most rugged 
 travelling for his horses, and soon discovered 
 that there was but little chance of meeting the 
 Shoshonie bands. He now proceeded along 
 Bear River, a stream much freqttented by trap- 
 pers ; intending to shape his course to Salmon 
 River, to rejoin Captain Bonneville. 
 
 He was misled, however, either through the 
 ignorance or treachery of an Indian guide, and 
 
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 :fi3onnev>tlle'0 Bdventures 
 
 
 conducted into a wild valley, where he lay 
 encamped d ^ -ing the autumn and the earlj' 
 part of the winter, nearly buried in snow, and 
 almost starved. Early in the season he de- 
 tached five men, with nine horses, to proceed 
 to the neighborhood of Sheep Rock, on Bear 
 River, where game was plenty, and there to 
 procure a supply for the camp. They had not 
 proceeded far on their expedition, when their 
 trail was d. ;covered by a party of nine or ten 
 Indians, w ;;o immediately commenced a lurk- 
 ing pursuit, dogging them secretly for five or 
 six days. So long as their encampments were 
 well f^ho.sen, and a proper watch maintained, 
 the wary savages kept aloof; at length, observ- 
 ing that they were badly encamped, in a situa- 
 tioti where they might be approached with 
 secrecy, thec'ierr. ,- crept stealthily along under 
 cover of »he r". .'fr bank, preparing to burst 
 suddenly upon their prey. 
 
 They hid n-^t advanced within striking dis- 
 tance, however, before the were discovered by 
 one of the trappt.-r... He immediately, but 
 silently, gave the alarm to his companions. 
 Tiiey all sprang upon their horses, and pre- 
 pared to retreat to a safe position. One of the 
 party, however, named Jemiings, doubted the 
 correctness of the alarm, and before he mounted 
 his horse, wanted to ascertain the fact. His 
 
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 War Dance of the Banneck Indiam 
 
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 Encounter witb IfnMans 183 
 
 companions urged him to mount, but in vain ; 
 he was incredulous and obstinate. A volley 
 of fire-arms by the savages dispelled his doubts, 
 but so overpowered his nerves that he was 
 unable to get into his saddle. His comrades, 
 seeing his peril and confusion, generously leapt 
 from their horses to protect him. A .'.lot from 
 a rifle brought him to the earth ; in . .is agony 
 he called upon the others not to desert him. 
 Two of them, L,e Roy and Ross, after fighting 
 desperately, were captured by the savages ; the 
 remaining two vaulted into their saddles, and 
 saved themselves by headlong flight, being 
 pursued for nearly thirtj' miles. They got safe 
 back to Matthieu's camp, where their story in- 
 spired such dread of lurking Indians, that the 
 hunters could not be prevailed upon to under- 
 take another foray in quest of provisions. 
 They remained, therefore, almost starving in 
 their camp ; now and then killing an old or 
 disabled horse for food, while the elk and the 
 mountain sheep roamed unmolested among the 
 surrounding mountains. 
 
 The disastrous surprisal of this hunting 
 party is cited by Captain Bonneville to show 
 the importance of vigilant watching and judi- 
 cious encampments in the Indian country. 
 Most of this kind of disasters to traders and 
 trappers arise from some careless inattention 
 
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 Sties' 
 
 184 JBonucpillc'6 BDveiUureg 
 
 to the state of their arms and ammunition, the 
 placing of their horses at night, the position 
 of their camping ground, and the posting of 
 their night watches. The Indian is a vigilant 
 and crafty foe ; by no means given to hare- 
 brained assaults ; he seldom attacks when he 
 finds his foe well prepared and on the alert. 
 Caution is at least as efficacious a protection 
 against him as courage. 
 
 The Indians who made this attack were at 
 first supposed to be ;31ackfeet ; until Captain 
 Bonneville found, subsequently, in tlie camp 
 of the Bannccks, a horse, saddle, and bridle, 
 which he recognized as having belonged to 
 one of the hunters. The Baimecks, however, 
 stoutly denied "having taken these spoils in 
 fight, and persisted in affirming that the out- 
 rage had been perpetrated by a Blackfoot band. 
 
 Captain Bonneville remained on Snake River 
 nearly three weeks after the arrival of Matthieu 
 and his party. At length his horses having 
 recovered strength .sufficient for a journey, he 
 prepared to return to the Nez Perces, or rather 
 to visit his caches on Salmon River ; that he 
 might take thence goods and equipments for 
 the opening uf the season. Accordingl}', leav- 
 ing sixteen men at Snake River, he set out on 
 the 19th of February, with sixteen others, on 
 his journey to the caches. 
 
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 1bar?8bip3 of tbc ^arcb 
 
 185 
 
 Fording the river, he proceeded to the bor- 
 ders of the deep snow, when he encamped under 
 the lee of immense piles of burnt rock. On the 
 2ist he was again floundering through the 
 snow, on the great Snake River plain, where 
 it lay to the depth of thirty inches. It was 
 sufficiently incrusted to bear a pedestrian ; but 
 the poor horses broke through the crust, and 
 plunged and strained at every step. So lacer- 
 ated were they by the ice, that it was necessary 
 to change the front every hundred yards, and 
 put a different one in the advance, to break 
 the waj'. The open prairies were swept by a 
 piercing and biting wind from the northwest. 
 At night, thej' had to task their ingenuity to 
 provide shelter and keep from freezing. In 
 the first place, they dug deep holes in the snow, 
 piling it up in ramparts to windward, as a pro- 
 tection against the blast. Beneath these, they 
 spread buffalo skins ; upon which they 
 stretched themselves in full dress, with caps, 
 cloaks, and moccasins, and covered themselves 
 with numerous blankets ; notwithstanding all 
 which, they were often severely pinched with 
 the cold. 
 
 On the 2Sth of February, they arrived on the 
 banks of Godin River. This stream emerges 
 from the mountains opposite an eastern branch 
 of the Malade River, running southeast, forms 
 
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 SSonncvtUe'a ZlDventurcs 
 
 a deep and swift current about twenty yards 
 wide, passing rapidly through a defile to which 
 it gives its name, and then enters the great 
 plain, where, after meandering about forty 
 miles, it is finally lost in the region of the 
 Bunit Rocks, 
 
 On the banks of this river. Captain Bonne- 
 ville was so fortunate as to come upon a buffalo 
 trail. Following it up. he entered the defile, 
 where he remained encamped for two days, to 
 allow the hunters time to kill and dry a supply 
 of buffalo beef. In this sheltered defile, the 
 weather was moderate, and grass was already 
 sprouting more than an inch in height. There 
 was abundance, too, of the salt weed ; which 
 grows most plentiful in clayey and gravelly 
 barrens. It resembles pennyroyal, and derives 
 its name from a partial .saltness. It is a nour- 
 ishing food for the horses in the winter, but 
 they reject it the moment the young grass 
 affords sufficient pasturage. 
 
 On the 6th of March, having cured sufficient 
 meat, the party resumed their march, and 
 moved on with comparative ease, excepting 
 where they had to make their way through 
 snow-drifts which had been piled up by the 
 wind. 
 
 On the nth, a small cloud of smoke was 
 observed rising in a deep part of the defile. 
 
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 (i 
 
 ]6lacf;foot Bmbusca^e 
 
 187 
 
 m 
 
 An encampment was instantly formed, and 
 scouts were sent out to reconnoitre. They re- 
 turned with intelligence that it was a hunting 
 party of Flatheads, returning from the buffalo 
 range laden with meat. Captain Bonneville 
 joined them the next day, and persuaded them 
 to proceed with his party a few miles below, to 
 the caches, whither he proposed also to invite 
 the Nez Perces, whom he hoped to find some- 
 where in this neighborhood. In fact, on the 
 13th, he was rejoined by that friendly tribe, who, 
 since he .separated from them on Salmon River, 
 had likewise been out to hunt the buffalo, but 
 had continued to be haunted and harassed by 
 their old enemies thv_ Blackfeet, who, as usual, 
 had contrived to carr>' off many of their horses. 
 In the cour.se of this hunting expedition, a 
 small band of ten lodges separated from the 
 main body, in search of better pa Hirage for 
 their horses. About the ist of March, the 
 scattered parties of Blackfoot banditti united 
 to the number of three hundred fighting men, 
 and determined upon some signal blow. Pro- 
 ceeding to the former camping ground of the 
 Nez Perces, they found the lodges deserted ; 
 upon which, they hid themselves among the 
 willows and thickets, watching for some strag- 
 gler, who might guide them to the present 
 " whereabout " of their intended victims. As 
 
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 :fi3onncville'»5 BCvcnturcs 
 
 fortune would have it, Kosato, the Blackfoot 
 renegade, was the first to pass along, accom- 
 panied by his blood-bought bride. He was on 
 his way from the main body of hunters to the 
 little band of ten lodges. The Blackfeet knew 
 and marked him as he passed ; he was within 
 bow-shot of their ambuscade ; yet, much as 
 they thirsted for his blood, they forbore to 
 launch a shaft ; sparing him for the moment, 
 that he miglit lead them to their prey. Secretly 
 following his trail, they discovered the lo.lges 
 of the unfortunate N ■ Perces, and assailed 
 them with .shouts and ycllings. The Nez 
 Perces numbered onh' twenty men, and but 
 nine were armed with fusees. They .showed 
 themselves, however, as brave and skilful in 
 war as they had l)ecn mild and long-suffering in 
 peace. Their first care was to dig holes inside 
 of their lodges ; thus ensconced, they fought 
 desjierately, laying s:everal of the enemy dead 
 upon the ground ; while they, though some of 
 them were wounded, lost not a single warrior. 
 
 During the heat of the battle, a woman of 
 ^,he Nez Perces, .seeing her warrior badly 
 wounded and unable to fight, seized his bow 
 and arrows, and bravely and successfully de- 
 fended his person, contributing to the safety 
 of the whole party. 
 
 In another part of the field of action, a Nez 
 
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a 
 
 tur^ 
 
 -^-^^nie 
 
 :kfoot 
 ccom- 
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 knew 
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 Heroism of a Woman of the Nez Perch. 
 
 From a Jiavnug I'V F. S. Church. 
 
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 BttacK on tbe IFIC3 ipcrcc5 
 
 Perce had crouched behind the trunk of a fallen 
 tree, and kept up a galling fire from his covert. 
 A Blackfoot seeing this, procured a round log, 
 and placing it before him as he lay prostrate, 
 rolled it forward towards the trunk of the tree 
 behind which his enemy lay crouched. It was 
 a moment of breathless interest : whoever first 
 showed himself would be in danger of a shot. 
 The Nez Perce put an end to the suspense. 
 The moment the logs touched, he sprang upon 
 his feet, and discharged the contents of his 
 fusee into the back of his antagonist. By this 
 time, the Blackfeet had got possession of the 
 horses ; several of their warriors lay dead on 
 the field, and the Nez Perces, ensconced in 
 their lodges, seemed resolved to defend them- 
 selves to the last gasp. It so happened that 
 the chief of the Blackfeet party was a renegade 
 from the Nez Perces : unlike Kosato, however, 
 he had no vindictive rage against his nativ^e 
 tribe, but was rather disposed, now he had got 
 the booty, to spare all imnecessary effusion of 
 blood. He had a long parley, therefore, with 
 the besieged, and finally drew off his warriors, 
 taking with him seventy horses. It appeared, 
 afterwards, that the bullets of the Blackfeet had 
 been entirely expended in the course of the 
 battle, so that they were obliged to make use 
 of stones as substitutes. 
 
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 190 
 
 :iSonneville'd BDventurca 
 
 At the outset of the fight, Kosato, the rene- 
 gade, fought with fury rather than valor : ani- 
 mating the others by word as well as deed. A 
 wound in the head from a rifle ball laid him 
 senseless on the earth. There his body re- 
 mained when the battle was over, and the 
 victors were leading off" the horses. His wife 
 hung over him with frantic lamentations. The 
 conquerors paused and urged her to leave the 
 lifeless renegade, and return with them to her 
 kindred. She refused to listen to their solicita- 
 tions, and they passed on. As she sat watch- 
 ing the features of Kosato, and giving way to 
 passionate grief, she thought she perceived 
 him to breathe. She was ncjt mistaken. The 
 ball, which had been nearlj* .spent before it 
 struck him, had stunned instead of killing 
 him. By the ministry of his faithful wife, he 
 gradually recovered ; reviving to a redoubled 
 love for her, and hatred of his tribe. 
 
 As to the female who had .so bravely de- 
 fended her husband, she was elevated by the 
 tribe to a rank far above her .sex, and, beside 
 other honorable distinctions, was thenceforward 
 permitted to take a part in the war-dances of 
 the braves ! 
 
 
 1 xy'^v-^-O. 
 
>NV\ 
 
 opening of the Caches — Detachment of Cerr^ and 
 Ilodgkiss — Salmon River Mountains — Superstition 
 of an Indian Trapper — Godin's River — Preparations 
 for Trappinjis — An Alarm — An Interruption — A Ri- 
 val Band — Phenomena of Snake River Plain — Vast 
 Clefts and Chasms— Ingulfed Streams— Sublime 
 Scenery — A Grand Buffalo Hunt. 
 
 CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE found his 
 caches perfectly secure, and having 
 secretl}' opened them, he selected such 
 articles as were necessary to equip the free trap- 
 pers, and to supply the inconsiderable trade 
 with the Indians, after which he closed them 
 again. The free trappers, being newly rigged 
 out and supplied, were in high .spirits, and 
 swaggered gayly about the camp. To coni- 
 pen.sate all hands for past sufferings, and to 
 give a cheerftil .spur to further operations. Cap- 
 tain Botmeville now gave the men what, in 
 frontier phrase, is termed " a regular blow 
 out." It was a day of inicouth gambols and 
 
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 192 :ffioinicvillc'5 BDvc tituiea 
 
 frolics, and rude feasting. The Indians joined 
 in tlie sports and games, and all was mirth and 
 good fellowship. 
 
 It was now the middle of March, and Cap- 
 tain Romieville made preparations to open the 
 spring campaign. He had pitched upon Ma- 
 lade River for his main trapping ground for the 
 .season. This is a stream which rises among 
 the great bed of mountains north of the lava 
 plain, and, after a winding cour.se, falls into 
 Snake River. Previous to his departure, the 
 capti:in dispatched Mr. Cerre, with a few 
 men, to visit the Indian villages and purchase 
 horses ; he furnished his clerk, Mr. Ilodgkiss, 
 also 'vith a small stock of goods, to keep up a 
 trade with the Indians during the spring, for 
 such pellriL-s as they might collect, appointing 
 the caches on Salmon River as the point of 
 rendezvous, where they were to rejoin him on 
 the 15th of June following. 
 
 This done, he set out for Malade River with 
 a band of twenty-eight men, composed of hired 
 and free trappers and Indian hunters, together 
 with eight squaws. Their route lay up along 
 the right fork of »Salmon River, as it passes 
 through the deep defile of the mountains. 
 They travelled very slowly, not above five 
 miles a day, for many of the horses were so 
 weak tlict they faltered and staggered as they 
 
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 l^ 
 
 flnOian Superstition 
 
 walked. Pasturage, however, was now grow- 
 ing plentiful. There was abundance of fresh 
 grass, which in .some places had attained such 
 height as to wave in the wind. The native 
 flocks of the wilderness, the mountain .sheep, 
 as the\- are called by the trappers, were con- 
 tinually to be seen upon the hills between 
 which they passed, and a good supply of mut- 
 ton was provided by the hunters, as they were 
 advancing towards a region of .scare' y. 
 
 In the course of his journey. Captain Bonne- 
 ville had occasion to remark an instance of the 
 many notions, and almost superstitions, which 
 prevail among the Indians, and among .some 
 of the white men, with respect to the sagacity 
 of the beaver. The Indian hunters of his 
 party were in the habit of exploring all the 
 streams along which they passed, in .search of 
 "beaver lodges." and occasionally .set their 
 traps with .some .success. One of them, liow- 
 ever, though, an experienced and skilful irap- 
 per, was invariably unsuccessful. Astonished 
 and mortified at such utuisual bad luck, he at 
 length conceived the idea, that there was .some 
 odor about his person, of which the beaver got 
 scent, and retreated at his approach. He im- 
 mediately .set about a thorough purification. 
 Making a rude sweating house on the banks 
 of the river, he would shut himself up until in 
 
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JBonnevillc'0 BOventured 
 
 m&m^^ 
 
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 a reeking perspiration, and then suddenl}^ 
 emerging, would plunge into the river. A 
 number of these sweatings and plungings hav- 
 ing, as he supposed, rendered his person per- 
 fectly "inodorous," he resumed his trapping 
 with renovated hope. 
 
 About the beginning of April, they encamped 
 upon Godin's River, where they found the 
 swamp full of " muskrat houses." Here, 
 therefore, Captain Bonneville determined to 
 remain a few days and make iiis first regular 
 attempt at trapping. That his maiden cam- 
 paign might open with spirit, he promised the 
 Indians and free trappers an extra price for 
 every muskrat they should take. All now set 
 to work for the next day's sport. The utmost 
 animation and gayety prevailed throughout 
 the camp. Everything looked auspicious for 
 their .spring campaign. The abundance of 
 nm.skrats in the swamp was but an earnest 
 of the nobler game they were to find when 
 they should reach the Malade River, and have 
 a capital beaver country all to themselves, 
 where they might tnip at their leisure without 
 molestation. 
 
 In the midst of their gayety, a hunter came 
 galloping into the camp, shouting, or rather 
 yelling, " A trail ! a trail ! — lodge poles ! lodge 
 poles!" 
 
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 ^•^35 
 
 
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 I 
 
Vixyal Wrappers 
 
 195 
 
 These were words full of meaning to a trap- 
 per's ear. Thej' intimated that there was some 
 band in the neighborhood, and probably a 
 hunting party, as they had lodge poles for an 
 encampment. The hunter came up and told 
 his story. He had discovered a fresh trail, 
 in which the traces made by the dragging of 
 lodge poles were distinctly visible. The buf- 
 falo, too, had just been driven out of the 
 neighborhood, which showed that the hunters 
 had already been on the range. 
 
 The gayety of the camp was at an end ; all 
 preparations for niuskrat trapping were sus- 
 pended, and all hands sallied forth to examine 
 tlie trail. Their worst fears were .soon con- 
 firmed. Infallible .signs showed the unknown 
 party in the advance to be white men ; doubt- 
 less, some rival band of trappers ! Here was 
 competition when least expected ; and that, 
 too, by a party already in the advance, who 
 were driving the game before them. Captain 
 Bomieville had now a taste of the sudden 
 transitions to which a trapper's life is subject. 
 The buoyant confidence in an uninterrupted 
 luuit was at an end ; every countenance low- 
 ered with gloom and disappointment. 
 
 Captain Bonneville immediately dispatched 
 two spies to overtake the rival party, and en- 
 deavor to learn their plans ; in the meantime, 
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 \' 196 JGonnevUlc's BDrcnturcs 
 
 he turned his back upon the swamp and its 
 mnskrat houses, and followed on at " long 
 camps," which, in trapper's languaj^e, is 
 equivalent to long stages. On the 6th of 
 April, he met his fpies leturning. They had 
 kept on the ^ mI iikc hounds, until they over- 
 took the pa. .1 • .south end of Godin's 
 Defile. Here ley 1 and them comfortably 
 encamped, twenty-two ['-i le trappers, all well 
 appointed, with excellent horses in capital 
 condition, led by Milton Sublette and an able 
 coadjutor, named Jarvie, and in full march for 
 the Malade Inniting ground. 
 
 This was .stunning news. The Malade River 
 was the only trapping ground within reach ; 
 but to have to compete there with veteran 
 trappers, perfectly at home among the moun- 
 tains, and admirabl)- mounted, while they 
 were so p(jorly provided with horses and trap- 
 pers, and had but one man in their party ac- 
 quainted with the country — it was out of the 
 question ! 
 
 The only hope that now remained, was that 
 the snow, which still lay deep among the moun- 
 tains of Godin River, an:' blocked up the usual 
 pass to the Malade country, might detain the 
 other party, until Captain Bonneville's horses 
 .should get once more into good condition in 
 their present ample pasturage. 
 
 's^J^ 
 
 '^n^ '^im^/i^:. 
 
 x7 
 
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 Snnhc IRivcr ipiain 
 
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 Tlv rival parties now encamped together, i 
 not Tilt of conii)anionship, l)ut to keep an e\'e 
 npon each other. Day after day passed by, 
 withont any possiliility of gettinj^ to the Ma- 
 lade country. Sublette and Jarvie endeavored 
 to force their waj' across the mountain ; but 
 the snows lay so deep as to oblijre them to turn 
 back. In the meantime, the captain's horses 
 were daily sainin,i; stren;4th, and their hoofs ,^^^ 
 improving, which had Ijeen worn and battered 
 by mountain .service. The captain, also, was 
 increa.sing his stock of provisions, so that the 
 delay was all in his favor. 
 
 To any one who merely contemplates a map 
 of till! country, this difficulty of getting from 
 Godin to Malade River will appear inexplica- 
 ble, as the intervening mountains terminate in 
 the great Snake River plain, so that, appar- 
 ently, it would be perfectly easy to proceed 
 round their bases. 
 
 Here, however, occur .some of the .striking 
 phenomena of this wild and sublime region. 
 The great lower plain which extends to the 
 feet of these mountains is broken up near their 
 ba.ses into crests and ridges, resembling the 
 surges of the ocean breaking on a /ocky shore. 
 
 In a line witli the mountains, the plain is 
 gashed with numerous and dangerous chasms, ^ ^ ^ 
 from four to ten feet wide, and of great depth. j2Lc 
 
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 3BonncviUc'»5 IlOvcnturcs 
 
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 c.,? 
 
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 Captain Bonneville attempted to soutid some 
 of these openings, but without any satisfactory 
 result. A stone dropped into one of them re- 
 verberated against the sides for apparently a 
 verj- great depth, and, by its sound, indicated 
 the same kind of substance with the surface, 
 as long as the strokes could be heard. The 
 hor.se, instinctively sagacious in avoiding dan- 
 ger, shrinks back in alarm from the least of 
 these chasms, pricking up his ears, .snorting 
 and pawing, initil permitted to turn away. 
 
 We have been told by a person well ac- 
 quainted with the country, that it is .some- 
 times necessary to travel fifty and sixty miles, 
 to get round one of these tremendous ravines. 
 Considerable streams, like that of Godin's 
 River, that run with a bold, free current, lose 
 themselves in this plain ; .some of them end in 
 .swamps, others .suddenlj- disappear, finding, 
 no doubt, subterranean outlets. 
 
 Opposite to the.se chasms. Snake River makes 
 two desperate leaps over precipices, at a short 
 distance from each other ; one twenty, the 
 other forty feet in height. 
 
 The volcanic plain in question forms an area 
 of about sixiy miles in diameter, where noth- 
 ing meets the eye but a desolate and awful 
 waste ; where no grass grows nor water runs, 
 and where nothing is to be seen but lava. 
 
 
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 •s, ^ 
 
 4^0 
 
 ;s. 
 
 A 
 
 
 0m 
 
 B Sea of Xava 199 
 
 Ranges of mountains skirt this plain, and, in 
 Captain Bonneville's opinion, were formerly 
 comiected, until rent asunder by some convul- 
 sion of nature. Far to the east, the Three 
 Tetons lift their heads sublimely, and dominate 
 this wide sea of lava ; — one of the most striking 
 features of a wilderness where everything seems 
 on a scale of stern and simple grandeur. 
 
 We look forward with impatience for some 
 able geologist to explore this sublime but 
 almo.st luiknown region. 
 
 It was not until the 25th of April, that the 
 two parties of trappers l)roke up their encamp- 
 ments, and inulertook to cross over the south- 
 west end of the mountain bj- a pass explored 
 by their .scouts. From various points of the 
 mountain they connnanded boundless pros- 
 pects of the lava plain, stretching away in cold 
 and gloomy barrenness as far as the eye could 
 reach. On the evening of the 26th, they 
 reached the plain west of the mountain, watered 
 by the Malade, the Boisee, and other streams, 
 which comprised the contemplated trapping 
 ground. 
 
 The country about the Boisee (or Woody) 
 River, is extolled by Captain Boinieville as the 
 most enchanting he had seen in the Far West ; 
 presenting the mingled grandeur and beauty 
 of mountain and plain ; of bright running 
 
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 30onncvi[lc*3 IlC>vcnturc0 
 
 strtanis and vast grassy meadows waving to 
 the* 1jilx'/c. 
 
 We shall not follow the captain throughout 
 his trapping catnpaign, which lasted until the 
 begiiniing of June; nor detail all the niana^u- 
 vres of the rival tra])i)ing parties, and their 
 various schemes to outwit and out-trap each 
 other. Suffice it to say, that after having 
 visited and camped about various streams with 
 various success, Captain Bonneville set for- 
 ward early in June for the a]i]iointed rendezvous 
 at the caches. On the way, he treated his 
 ])arty to a grand buffalo hunt. The scouts had 
 reported numerous herds in a ]ilain beyond an 
 intervening height. There was an immediate 
 halt ; the fleetest horses were forthwith 
 mounted, and the party advanced to the sum- 
 mit of the hill. Hence they beheld the great 
 plain below absolutelj' swanning with bufl"alo. 
 Captain Bonneville now appointed the place 
 where he wcmld encamp ; and towards which 
 the hunters were to drive the game. He 
 cautioned the latter to advance .slowly, reserv- 
 ing the strength and .speed of the horses, luitil 
 within a nuxlerate di.stance of the herds. 
 Twenty-two horsemen descended cautiously 
 into the plain, conformably to these directions. 
 "It was a beautiful sight," says the captain, 
 " to see the runners, as they are called, advan- 
 
/r-^^,<^ ,i>'> 
 
 tkt 
 
 Hrrlval at tlK Caches 201 
 
 
 ,*^ cinj; in colunui, at a slow trot, until witliin two /,, 
 hundred and fifty yards of the outskirts of 
 the herd, then dashinj^ on at full speed, until 
 lost in the inunense nuiltilude of buffaloes 
 scouring the plain in every direction." All 
 was now tumult and wild confusion. In the 
 
 '•?< \;# meantime. Captain Bonneville and the residue 
 of the party moved on to the appointed camp- 
 ing ground ; thither the most exj>ert rumiers 
 succeeded in driving numbers of buffalo, which 
 were killed hard by the camp, and the flesh 
 
 u^jtt^ transported thither without difficult}-. In a 
 little while the whole camp looked like one 
 great .slaughter-house ; the carcasses were skil- 
 fully cut up, great fires were made, .scaffolds 
 erected for drying and jerking beef, and an 
 ample provi.sion was made for future .sub.sist- 
 ence. On the 15th of June, the precise day 
 appointed for the rendez\i)us, Captain Boinie- 
 ville and his party arrived .safely at the caches, 
 Here he was joined by the other detachments 
 of his main party, all in good health and spirits. 
 The caches were again opened, supplies of vari- 
 ous kinds taken out, and a liljeral allowance of 
 (h]iia vilte distributed throughout the camp, to 
 celebrate with proper conviviality this merry 
 meeting. 
 
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 u^^V\. 
 
 Meeting with Hodgkiss— Misfortunes of the Nez 
 Percys— Schemes of Kosato, the Renegado— His 
 Foray into the Horse Prairie— Invasion of Blackfeet 
 — Blue John, and his Torlorn Hope — Their Gener- 
 ous Enterprise— Their Fate— Consternation and 
 Despair of the Village— Solemn Obsequies— Attempt 
 at Indian Trade— Hudson's Bay Company's Monop- 
 oly—Arrangements for Autumn— Breaking up of 
 an Encampment. 
 
 HA\'IXG now a prettj- strong party, well 
 armed and equipped, Captain Bonne- 
 ville no longer felt the necessity of 
 fortifying himself in the secret places and fast- 
 nesses of the mountains ; but sallied forth 
 boldly into the Snake River plain, in search of 
 his clerk, Hodgkiss, who had remained with 
 the Nez Perces. He found him on the 24th of 
 June, and learnt from him another chapter of 
 misfortunes which had recently befallen that 
 ill-fated race. 
 
 After the departure of Captain Boinieville, in 
 
 
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 11 
 
 /;. 
 
 ..:\ 
 
 veil 
 
 b 
 
 
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 Icosato's Scbcmcs 
 
 203 
 
 March, Kosato, the renegade Blackfoot, liad 
 recovered from the wound received in battle ; 
 and with his strength revived all his deadly 
 hostility to his native tribe. He now resumed 
 his efforts to stir up the Nez Perces to repri- 
 sals upon their old enemies ; reminding them 
 incessantly of all the outrages and robberies 
 they had recently experienced, and assuring 
 them that such would continue to be their lot, 
 until they proved themselves men by some sig- 
 nal retaliation. 
 
 The impassioned eloquf .ice of the desperado 
 at length produced an effect ; and a band of 
 braves enlisted under his guidance, to penetrate 
 into the Blackfoot country, harass their vil- 
 lages, carry off their horses, and commit all 
 kinds of depredations. 
 
 Kosato pushed forward on his foray, as far 
 as the Horse Prairie ; where he came upon a 
 strong party of Blackft-et. Without waiting 
 to estimate their force, he attacked them with 
 characteristic fury, and was bravel}' seconded 
 by his followers. The contest, for a time, was 
 hot and bloody : at length, as is customary 
 witli these two tribes, they paused, and held a 
 long parley, or rather a war of words. 
 
 "What need," said the Blackfoot chief, 
 tauntingly, "have the 
 their homes, anjcl sally 
 
 SIC? 
 
 %- 
 
 Nez 
 
 forth 
 
 Perces to leave 
 oil war parties, 
 
 
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 iff 
 
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 3. 
 
 204 
 
 :A}onnev>ille'd BD\7etiturcs 
 
 when they have danger enough at their own 
 doors? If you want fighting, return to your 
 villages ; you will have plenty of it there. 
 The Blackfeet warriors have hitherto made 
 war upon you as children. They are now com- 
 ing as men. A great force is at hand ; they 
 are on their way to your towns, and are de- 
 termined to rub out the very name of tlie Nez 
 Perces from the mountains. Return, I say, to 
 your towns, and fight there, if you wish to 
 live any longer as a people." 
 
 Kosato took him at his word ; for he knew 
 tlie character of his native tribe. Hastening 
 back with his band to the Nez Perc6 village, 
 he told all that he had seen and lieard : and 
 mged the most prompt and strenuous meas- 
 ures for defense. The Nez IVrces, however, 
 heard him with their accustomed ])hlegm : the 
 threat of the Black f^'ct had been often made, 
 and as often had jmived a mere bravado; such 
 they pronounced it to be at present, and, of 
 course, to(.k no precaution. 
 
 They were .soon convinced that it was no 
 empty menace. In a few days, a band of three 
 hundred lilackfeet warriors appeared upon 
 the hills. .Ml now was consternation in the 
 village. The force of the Nez Perces was too 
 small to cope with the enemy in o])en fight ; 
 many of the young men having gone to their 
 
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 r'-^i^'iX^' 
 
 •X\- \ 
 
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 %■ 
 
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 JBUic Jobn 
 
 relatives on the Columbia tf; procure horses. 
 The sages nit-t in hurried council. What was 
 to be done to ward off a blow which threatened 
 annihilation ? In this moment of imminent 
 peril, a Pierced-Nose chief, named Blue John 
 by the whites, offered to approach secretly 
 with a small but chosen band, through a de- 
 file which led to the encampment of the enemy, 
 and, by a sudden on.set, to drive off the hor.ses. 
 Should this blow be successful, the spirit and 
 strength of the invaders would be broken, and 
 the Nez Perces, having liorses, wf)uld be more 
 than a match for them. Should it fail, the 
 village would not be wor.se off than at present, 
 when destruction .seemed inevitable. 
 
 Twenty-nine of the choicest warriors in- 
 .stantly volunteered to follow Blue John in this 
 hazardous enterprise. They prepared for it 
 with the .solemnity and devotion peculiar to 
 the tribe. Blue John consulted his medicine, 
 oi tali.smanic charm, such as every chief keeps 
 in his lodge as a supernatural protection. The 
 oracle assured him that his enterprise would 
 be completel; successful, ])n>vi(led no rain 
 slumld fall before he liad pa.s.sed thnmgh the 
 defile ; but sh(> Id it rain, his band would be 
 utterly cut off. 
 
 The day was clear and bright ; and Blue John 
 anticipated that the skies would \k- propitious. 
 
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 206 
 
 3BonnevUle'd Bdventures 
 
 He departed in high spirits with his forlorn 
 hope : and never did band of braves make a 
 more jjallant display — horsemen and horses be- 
 ing decorated and equipped in the fiercest and 
 most glaring stj-le — glittering with arms and 
 ornaments, and fluttering with feathers. 
 
 The weather continued serene until they 
 reached the defile ; but just as they were enter- 
 ing it, a black cloud rose over the mountain 
 crest, and there was a sudden shower. The 
 warriors turned to their leader as if to read 
 his opinion of this unlucky omen ; but the 
 countenance of Blue John remained unchanged, 
 and they continued to press forward. It was 
 their hope to make their way, undiscovered, 
 to the very vicinity of the Blackfoot camp ; l)ut 
 they had not proceeded far in the defile, when 
 they met a scouting party of the enemy. They 
 attacked and drove them among the hills, and 
 were pursuing them with great eagerness, when 
 they heard shouts and yells behind them, and be- 
 held the main body of the Blackfeet advancing. 
 
 Tlie second chief wavered a little at the 
 .sight, and propo.scd an instani ' :..it. "We 
 came to fight!" replied Blue J>i.: , sternly. 
 Then giving his war-whoop, he .sprang fi)rward 
 to the conflict. His braves followed him. 
 They maile a headlong charge upon tiie enemy ; 
 not with the hope of victory, but the determi- 
 
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 li 
 
 
 B jfctgbtful Cacnade 
 
 nation to sell their lives dearly. A frightful 
 carnage rather than a regular battle, succeeded. 
 The forlorn band laid heaps of their enemies 
 dead at their feet, but were overwhelmed with 
 numbers, and pressed into a gorge of the moun- 
 tain, where they continued to fight until they 
 were cut to pieces. One, only, of the thirty 
 survived. He sprang on the horse of a Black- 
 foot warrior whom he had slain, and escaping 
 at full .speed, brought home the baleful tidings 
 to his village. 
 
 Who can paint the horror and desolation of 
 the inhabitants ? The flower of their warriors 
 laid low, and a ferocious enemy at their doors. 
 The air was rent by the shrieks and lamenta- 
 tions of the women, who, casting off their 
 ornaments, and tearing their hair, wandered 
 about, frantically l)ewailing the dead, and pre- 
 dicting destruction to the living. The remain- 
 ing warriors armed themselves for obstinate 
 defense ; but sliowed, by their gloomy looks 
 and sullen silence, that they considered defense 
 hopeless. To their surprise, the Blackfeet re- 
 frained from pursuing their advantage ; per- 
 haps satisfied with the blood already shed, or 
 disheartened by the loss they had themselves 
 sustained. At any rate, they disappeared from 
 the hills, and it was soon ascertained that they 
 had returned to the Horse Prairie. 
 
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 208 
 
 JCoiincvirc'6 BOvcnturcs 
 
 The unfortunate Xez Perccs now began once 
 more to breathe. A few of their warriors, 
 taking pack-horses, repaired to the defile to 
 luring away the Ixxlies of their shiughtered 
 brethren. The\' found thetn mere headless 
 trunks ; and the wounds with which tl:ey were 
 covered, showed how bravely they had fought. 
 Their hearts, too, had been torn out and car- 
 ried off; a proof of their signal valor; for in 
 devouring the heart of a foe renowned for 
 V)ravery, or who has distinguished himself in 
 battle, the Indian victor thinks he appropriates 
 to himself the courage of the deceased. 
 
 (iathering the mangled boilies of the slain, 
 ami stra))ping tliem across their pack-horses, 
 tlie warriors returned, in dismal procession, to 
 the village. The tribe came forth to meet 
 them : the women with i)iercing cries and 
 wailiiigs ; the men with downcast co..iitenances, 
 in which ^loom and sorrow seemed fixed as if 
 in marble. The mutilated and almost mulis- 
 tinguishable bodies were placed in rows upon 
 the ground, in the midst of the assemblage ; 
 and the seen'- of heart-rending anguish and 
 lameiuations that ensued, wou'd have con- 
 founded those who insist on Indian stoicism. 
 
 Such was the disastrous event that had over- 
 whi-lmed >.'ie Xez Perce tribe, during the 
 absence yi Captain Bonneville ; and he was 
 
 
■V' 
 
 /^J 
 
 informed that Kosato, the renegade, who, being 
 stationed in the village, had been prevented 
 from going on the forlorn hope, was again 
 striving to rouse the vindictive feelings of his 
 adopted brethren, and to prompt them to re- 
 venge the slaughter of their devoted braves. 
 
 During his sojourn on the Snake River plain, 
 Captain Bonneville made one of his first essays 
 at the strategy of the fur trade. There was at 
 this time an assemblage of Xez Perces, Flat- 
 heads, and Cottonois Indians, encamped to- 
 gether upon the plain ; well provided with 
 beaver, which they had collected during the 
 spring. These they were waiting to traffic 
 with a resident trader of the Hudson's Bay 
 Company, who was stationed among them, 
 and with whom they were accustomed to deal. 
 As it happened, the trader was almost entirely 
 destitute of Indian goods ; his spring supply 
 not having yet reached him. Captain Bonne- 
 ville had secret intelligence that supplies were 
 on their waj', and would soon arrive ; he 
 hoped, however, by a prompt move, to antici- 
 pate their arrival, and secure the market to 
 himself. Throwing himself, therefore, among 
 the Indians, he opened his packs ot merchan- 
 dise, and displayed the most tempting wares ; 
 bright cloths, and scarlet blankets, and glitter- 
 ing ornaments, and everytlnng gay and glorious 
 
 VOL. I.— 14 
 
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 JBonneviUc'd BDventures 
 
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 ill the eves of warrior or squaw ; all, however, 
 was in vain. The Hudson's Bay trader was a 
 perfect master of his business, thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with the Indians he had to deal with, 
 and held such control over them, that none 
 dared to act openly in opposition to his wishes : 
 nay, more — he came nigh turning the tables 
 upon the captain, and shaking the allegiance 
 of some of his free trappers, by distributing 
 liquors among them. The latter, therefore, 
 was glad to give up a competition, where the 
 war was likely to be carried into his own 
 camp. 
 
 In fact, the traders of the Hudson's Bay 
 Company have advantages over all competitors 
 in the trade beyond the Rocky Mountains. 
 That huge monopoly centres within itself not 
 merely its own hereditar\' and long-established 
 power and influence ; but also those of its 
 ancient rival, but now integral part, the famous 
 Northwest Company. It has tluis its races of 
 traders, trappers, hunters, and 7'ovat^i'urs, born 
 ai •' brought up in its service, and inheriting 
 from preceding generations a knowledge and 
 aptitude in everytliing connected with Indian 
 life, and Indian traffic. Jn the process of years, 
 this company has been enabled to .spread its 
 ramifications in every direction : its .sy.stem of 
 intercourse is founded upon a long and inti- 
 
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 i^'Vi=^-t" %^^' 
 
 "■"^SsttaeOr: 
 
 A ■'.*W >NJ- 
 
 
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 <.XT^ 
 
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 :-iS 
 
 'It^ 
 
 fjuOson's asag Companig's flbonopolB an 
 
 mate knowledge of the character and necessi- 
 ties .if tlie various triV)es ; and of all the 
 fastnesses, defiles, and favorable hunting 
 grounds of the country. Their capital, also, 
 and the manner in which their supplies are 
 distributed at various posts or forwarded by- 
 regular caravans, keep their traders well sup- 
 plied, and enable them to furnish their goods 
 to the Indians at a cheap rate. Their men, 
 too, being cliiefly drawn from the Canadas, 
 where they enjoy great influence and control, arc 
 engaged at the most trifling wages, and sup- 
 ported at little cost ; the provisions which they 
 take with them being little more than Indian 
 corn and grease. They were brought, also, 
 l^v into the most perfect discipline and subordina- 
 tion, especially when their leaders have once 
 got them to their scene of action in the heart 
 '^ T* of the wilderness. 
 
 These circumstances combine to give the 
 leaders of the Hudson's Bay Company a de- 
 cided advantage over all the American compa- 
 nies that come within their range ; so that any 
 close competition with them is almost hopeless. 
 
 vShortly after Captain Bonneville's ineffec- 
 tual attemjit to participate in the trade of the 
 associated camp, the supplies of the Hudson's 
 Bay Company arrived ; and the resident trader 
 was enabled to monopolize the market. 
 
 ^- 
 
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 :lSonnev(Ue'0 BOventuree 
 
 It was now the beginning of July ; in the 
 latter part of which month, Captain Bonne- 
 ville had appointed a rendezvous at Horse 
 Creek, in Green River Valley, with some of 
 the parties which he had detached in the pre- 
 ceding year. He now turned his thoughts in 
 that direction, and prepared for the journey. 
 
 The Cottonois were anxious for him to pro- 
 ceed at once to their country ; which, they as- 
 sured him, abounded in beaver. The lands 
 of this tribe lie immediately north of those of 
 the Flatheads, and are open to the inroads of 
 the Blackfeet. It is true, the latter professed 
 to be their allies : but they had been guilty of 
 so many acts of perfidy, that the Cottonois 
 had, latterly, renounced their hollow friend- 
 ship, and attached themselves to the P'latheads 
 and Nez Perces. These the)- had accompa- 
 nied in their migrations, rather than remain 
 alone at home, exposed to the outrages of the 
 Blackfeet. They were now apprehensive that 
 these marauders would range their country 
 during their absence, and destroy the beaver ; 
 .\-A this was their reason for urging Captain Bonne- 
 Vy/ ville to make it his autumnal hunting ground. 
 The latter, however, was not to be tempted ; 
 his engagements required his presence at the 
 rendezvous in Green River Valley, and he had 
 already formed his ulterior plans. 
 
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1. 
 
 c 
 
 
 an inncjpcctcCt Dlfllcultp 
 
 Ati unexpected difficulty now arose. The 
 "O free trappers suddenly made a stand, and de- 
 ''^ clined to accompany him. It was a long and 
 weary journey ; the route lay through Pierre's 
 Hole, and other mountain passes infested by 
 the Black feet, and recently the scenes of san- 
 guinary conflicts. They were not disposed to 
 inidertake such unnecessary toils and dangers, 
 when they had good and secure trapping 
 grounds nearer at hand, on the head-waters 
 of the Salmon River. 
 
 As these were free and independent fellows, 
 whose will and whim were apt to be law — who 
 had the whole wilderness before them, " where 
 to choose," and the trader of a rival company 
 at hand, ready to pay for their services — it was 
 necessary to bend to their wishes. Captain 
 Bonneville fitted them cmt, therefore, for the 
 hunting ground in question, appointing Mr. 
 Hodgkiss to act as their partisan, or leader, 
 and fixing a rendezvous where he should meet 
 them in the course of the ensuing winter. The 
 brigade consisted of twenty-one free trappers, 
 and four or five hired men as camp keepers. 
 This was not the exact arrangement of a trap- 
 ping party ; which, when accurately organized, 
 is composed of two tliirds trappers, whose duty 
 leads them continually abroad in pursuit of 
 game ; and one third camp-keepers, who cook, 
 
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 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-S) 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 2.5 
 
 12.2 
 
 12.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 U III 1.6 
 
 £ us 
 
 Hiotographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 33 WIST MAIN STRUT 
 
 WIBSTIR.N.Y. 14SS0 
 
 (716) B73-4S03 
 
p 
 
fe 
 
 JBonncvillc's BDvcntureg 
 
 pack, and unpack ; set up the tents, take care 
 of the horses, and do all other duties usuallj' 
 assigned bj' the Indians to their women. This 
 part of the service is apt to be fulfilled bj' French 
 Creoles from Canada and the valley of the Mis- 
 sissippi. 
 
 In the meantime, the associated Indians, 
 having completed their trade and received 
 their supplies, were all ready to disperse in 
 various directions. 
 
 As there was a formidable band of Black- 
 feet just over a mountain to the nortlieast. by 
 which Hodgkiss and his free trappers would 
 have to pass ; and as it was known that those 
 sharp-sighted marauders had their scouts out, 
 watching every movement of the encampments, 
 so as to cut off stragglers or weak detachments, 
 Captain Bomieville prevailed upon the Nez 
 Perces to accompany Hodgkiss and his party, 
 until they should be beyond the range of the 
 enemy. 
 
 Tl'.e Cottonois and the Pends Oreilles deter- 
 mined to move together at the same time, and 
 to pass close under the mountain infested by 
 the Blackfeet ; while Captain Bomieville, with 
 his party, was to stri.if in an opposite direc- 
 tion to the southeast, bending his course for 
 Pierre's Hole, on his way to Green River. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 6th of July, all the 
 
 't) 
 
 &. 
 
 6- 
 
 <-j 
 
 K 
 
 W 
 

 U^^'^: 
 
 Dispersion of tbe Camps 
 
 \jl camps were raised at the same moment, each 
 party taking its separate route. The scene 
 was wild and picturesque ; the long line of 
 traders, trappers, and Indians, with their rugged 
 and fantastic dresses and accoutrements ; their 
 varied weapons, their iiniumerable horses, 
 some under the saddle, some burdened with 
 packages, others following in droves ; all 
 stretching in lengthening cavalcades across 
 the vast landscape, and making for different 
 J^^^i^^l points of the plains and mountains. 
 
 ■-«=?a^ 
 
 ""^^m-^^j^-'^ 
 
 Ui 
 
 
 i| 
 
 

 5 
 
 fit 
 
 m 
 
 {- n 
 
 
 , I 
 
 Cbapter Hf . 
 
 Precautions in Dangerous Defiles — Trappers' Mode 
 of Defense on a Prairie — A Mysterious Visitor — 
 Arrival in Green River Valley — Adventures of the 
 Detachments — The Forlorn Partisan — His Tale of 
 Disasters. 
 
 AS the route of Captain Bonneville lay 
 through what was considered the most 
 perilous part of this region of dangers, 
 he took all his measures with military skill, 
 and observed the strictest circumspection. 
 When on the march, a small scouting party 
 was thrown in the advance, to reconnoitre the 
 country through which they were to pass. The 
 encampments were selected with great care, 
 and a watch was kept up night and day. The 
 horses were b: ought in and picketed at night, 
 and at daybreak a party was sent out to scour 
 the neighborhood for half a mile round, beat- 
 ing up every grove and thicket that could give 
 shelter to a lurking foe. When all was re- 
 ported safe, the horses were cast loose and 
 
 2l6 
 
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 { 
 
 I 
 
s ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 Ifndtan itsoi>e o( Defense 
 
 turned out to graze. Were such precautions 
 generally observed by traders and hunters, we 
 should not so often hear of parties being sur- 
 prised by the Indians. 
 
 Having stated the military arrangements of 
 the captain, we may here mention a mode of 
 defense on the open prairie, which we have 
 heard from a veteran in the Indian trade. 
 When a party of trappers is on a journe)' with 
 a convo}' of goods or peltries, every man has 
 three pack-norses under his care, each horse 
 laden with three packs. Every man is pro- 
 vided with a picket with an iron head, a mal- 
 let, and hobbles, or leathern fetters for the 
 honses The trappers proceed across the prai- 
 rie in a long line ; or sometimes three parallel 
 lines, sufficiently distant from each other to 
 prevent the packs from interfering. At an 
 alarm, when there is no covert at hand, the 
 line wheels so as to bring the front to the rear, 
 and form a circle. All then dismount, drive 
 their pickets into the ground in w. centre, 
 fasten the horses to t lem, and hobble their 
 forelegs, so that, in case of alarm, they cannot 
 break away. They then unload them, and 
 dispose of their packs as breastworks on the 
 periphery of the circle, each man having nine 
 packs behind which to shelter himself. In 
 this promptly- formed fortress, thev await the 
 
 
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 I! 
 
2l8 
 
 JBonne-^ille'd Bdventurca 
 
 (^, 
 
 ^1 
 
 i-> 
 
 t* 
 
 assault of the eneni}', and are enabled to set 
 large bands of Indians at defiance. 
 
 The first night of his march, Captain Bonne- 
 ville encamped upon Henry's Fork ; an upper 
 branch of Snake River, called after the first 
 American trader that erected a fort beyond the 
 mountains. About an hour after all hands had 
 come to a halt the clatter of hoofs was heard, 
 and a solitary female, of the Nez Perce tribe, 
 came galloping up. She was mounted on a 
 mustang, or half-wild horse, which she man- 
 aged by a long rope hitched round the under 
 jaw by way of bridle. Dismounting, she 
 walked silentl\' int(> themid.st of the camp, and 
 there seated herself on the ground, still hold- 
 ing her horse by the long halter. 
 
 The sudden and lonely apparition of this 
 woman, and her calm, yet resolute demeanor, 
 awakened universal curiosity. The hunteis and 
 trappers gathered round, and gazed on her as 
 something mysterious. She remained .silent, but 
 maintained her air of calmness and self-pos.ses- 
 sion. Captaiti Bonneville approached and in- 
 terrogated her as to theo!)ject of her mysterious 
 visit. Her answer was brief but earnest — " I 
 love the whites — I will go with them. ' ' vShe was 
 forthwith invited to a lodge, of which she 
 readily took possession, and from that time 
 forward was C(Misidered one of the camp. 
 
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set \>' 
 
 AS 
 
 :7 
 
 (ler c-i^s "^ 
 
 and 
 ras 
 
 01 
 
 Brrival at ©rcen "River 
 
 Inconsequence, very probably, of the military 
 precautions of Captain Bonneville, he conducted 
 his party in safety through this hazardous 
 region. No accident of a disastrous kind oc- 
 curred, excepting the loss of a horse, which, in 
 passing along the jjiddy edge of the precipice, 
 called the Cornice, a dangerous pass between 
 Jackson's and Pierre's Hole, fell over the brink 
 and was dashed to pieces. 
 
 On the 13th of July (1883), Captain Bonne- 
 ville arrived nt Green River. As he entered 
 the valley, he beheld it strewn in everj' direc- 
 tion with the carcasses of buffaloes. It was 
 evident that Indians had recently been there, 
 and in great numbers. Alarmed at th;., sight, 
 he came to a halt, and .soon as it was dark, 
 sent out .spies to his place of rendezvous on 
 Hor.se Creek, where he had expected to meet 
 with his detached parties of trappers on the 
 following day. Ivarly in the morning, the 
 .spies made their appearance in the camp, and 
 with them came three trappers of one of his 
 bantls, from the rendezvous, who told him his 
 people were all there expecting him. As to 
 the slaughter among the buffaloes, it had been 
 made by a friendly band of Shoshonies, who 
 had fallen in with one of his trapping parties, 
 and acc'jmjjanied them to the rendezvous. 
 Having imparted this intelligence, the three 
 
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 JBonneville'B BOventuren 
 
 
 worthies from the rendezvous broached a small 
 keg of "alcohol," which they had brought 
 with them, to enliven this merry meeting. The 
 liquor went briskly round ; all absent friends 
 were toasted, and the party moved forward to 
 the rendezvous in high spirits. 
 
 The meeting of associated bands, who have 
 been separated from each other on these hazard- 
 ous enterprises, is always interesting ; each 
 having its tale of perils and adventures to re- 
 late. Such was the case with the various de- 
 tachments of Captain Boimeville's company, 
 thus brought together on Horse Creek. Here 
 was the detachment of fifty men which he had 
 sent from Salmon River, in the preceding month 
 of November, to winter on Snake River. They 
 had met with many crosses and losses in the 
 course of their spring hunt, not so much from 
 the Indians as from white men. They had 
 come in competition with rival trapping parties, 
 particularly one belonging to the Rocky Moun- 
 tain Fur Company ; and they hod long stories 
 to relate of their manoeuvres to forestall or dis- 
 tress each other. In fact, in these virulent and 
 sordid competitions, the trappers of each party 
 were more intent upon injuring their rivals, 
 tlian benefiting themselves ; breaking each 
 other's traps, trampling and tearing to pieces 
 the beaver lodges, and doing everything in 
 
 V 
 
^5J 
 
 f/-/ 
 
 Haled of WienBtete 
 
 221 
 
 their power to mar the success of the hunt. 
 We forbear to detail these pitiful contentions. 
 
 The most lamentable tale of disasters, how- 
 ever, that Captain Bonneville had to hear, was 
 from a partisan, whom he had detached in 
 the preceding year, with twenty men, to hun^ 
 through the outskirts of tlie Crow country , anu 
 on the tributary streams of the Yellowstone ; 
 whence he was to proceed and join him in his 
 winter quarters on Salmon River. This parti- 
 san appeared at the rendezvous without his 
 party, and a sorrowful tale of disaster had he 
 to relate. In hunting the Crow country, he 
 fell in with a village of that tribe ; notorious 
 rogues, jockeys, and horse stealers, and errant 
 scamperers of the mountains. These decoyed 
 nio.st of his aen to desert, and carry oif horses, 
 traps, and .ccoutrements. When he attempted 
 to retake the deserters, the Crow warriors ruf- 
 fled up to him and declared the deserters were 
 their good friends, had determined to remain, 
 among them, and should not be molested. The 
 poor partisan, therefore, was fain to leave his 
 vagabonds among 'hese birds of t'.ieir own 
 feather, and, being t .o weak in numbers to at- 
 tempt the dangerous } ass across the mountains 
 to meet Captain Bonneville on Salmon River, 
 he made, with the few that remained faithful 
 to him, for the nei;rliborhood of T' Uock's Fort, 
 
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 JSonneville'd BDventurea 
 
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 on the Yellowstone, under the protection of 
 which he went into winter quarters. 
 
 He soon found out that the neighborhood of 
 the fort was nearly as bad as the neighborhood 
 of the Crows. His men were continually steal- 
 ing away thither, with whatever beaver .skins 
 they could secrete or lay their hands on. These 
 they would exchange with the hangens-on of 
 the fort for whisky, and then revel in drunk- 
 enness and debauchery. 
 
 The unlucky partisan made another move. 
 Associating with his party a few free trappers, 
 whom he met with in this neighborhood, he 
 started off early in the spring to trap on the 
 head-waters of Powder River. In the course 
 of the journey, his horses were .so much jaded 
 in traversing a steep mountain, that he was 
 induced to turn them loose to graze during the 
 night. The place was lonely ; th.e path was 
 rugged ; there was not the sign of an Indian in 
 the neighborhood ; not a blade of grass that 
 had been turned by a footstep. IJut who can 
 calculate on security in the midst of an Itidian 
 country, where the foe lurks in silence and 
 secrecy, and .seems to come and go on the wings 
 of the wind ? The horses had scarce been 
 turned loose, when a couple of Arickara (or 
 Rickaree) warriors entered the camp. They 
 effected a frank and friendly demeanor ; but 
 

 
 ill!!; 
 
 Km 
 
 ^ 
 
 Bricitara Spied in Camp 
 
 their appearance and movements awakened the 
 suspicions of some of the veteran trapjiers, 
 well versed in Indian wiles. Convinced that 
 they were spies sent on some sinister errand, 
 they took them into custody, and set to work 
 to drive in the horses. It was too late — the 
 horses had already gone. In fact, a war party 
 of Arickaras had been hovering on their trail 
 for several days, watching with the patience 
 and perseverance of Indians, for some moment 
 of negligence and fancied security, to make a 
 successful swoop. The two spies had evidently 
 been sent into the camp to create a diversion, 
 while their confederates carried off the spoil. 
 
 The unlucky partisan, thus robbed of his 
 horses, turned furiously on his prisoners, or- 
 dered them to be bound hand and foot, and 
 swore to put them to death unless his property 
 were restored. The robbers, who soon found 
 that their spies were in captivity, now made 
 their appearance on horseback, and held a 
 parley. The sight of them, mounted on the 
 very horses they had stolen, set the blood of 
 the mountaineers in a ferment ; but it was 
 useless to attack them, as they would have but 
 to turn their steeds and scamper out of the 
 reach of pedestrians. A negotiation was now 
 attempted. The Arickaras offered what they 
 considered fair terms ; to barter one horse, or 
 
 h:ii<^ 
 
 \/" 
 
 
 IV 
 
 m 
 
^ 
 
 even two horses, for a prisoner. The moun- 
 taineers spurned at their offer, and declared 
 thai, unless all the horses were relinquished, 
 the prisoners should be burnt to death. To 
 give force to their threats, a pyre of logs and 
 fagots were heaped up and kindled into a 
 blaze. 
 
 The parley continued ; the Arickaras released 
 one horse and then another, in earnest of their 
 proposition ; finding, however, that nothing 
 short of the relinquishment of all their spoils 
 would purchase the lives of the captives, they 
 abandoned them to their fate, moving off with 
 many parting words and lamentable bowlings. 
 The prisoners seeing them depart, and know- 
 ing the horrible fate that awaited them, made 
 a desperate effort to escape. They partially 
 succeeded, but were severely wounded and re- 
 taken ; then dragged to the blazing pyre, and 
 burnt to death in the sight of their retreating 
 comrades. 
 
 Such are the savage cruelties that white 
 men learn to practise, who mingle in savage 
 life : and -uch are the acts that lead to terrible 
 recrimination on the part of the Indians. Should 
 we hear of any atrocities committed by the 
 Arickaras upon captive white men, let this 
 signal and recent provocation be borne in mind. 
 Individual cases of the kind dwell in the recol- 
 
 UV 
 

 ry^-:->-N 
 
 Zbc UnluchiE; partisan 
 
 lections of whole tribes ; and it is a point of 
 honor and conscience to revenge them. 
 
 The loss of his horses completed the ruin of 
 the unlucky partisan. It was out of his power 
 to prosecute his hunting, or to maintain his 
 party ; the only thought now was how to get 
 back to civilized life. At the first watercour.se, 
 his men built canoes, and committed them- 
 selves to the stream. Some engaged themselves 
 at various trading establishments at which they 
 touched, others got back to the settlements. 
 As to the partisan, he found an opportunity to 
 make his way to the rendezvous at Green River 
 Valley ; whicli he reached in time to render to 
 Captain Botnieville this forlorn account of his 
 misadventures. 
 
 VOL. I. — 15 
 
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 >^J:^.-^^^'^l 
 
 Cbapter J^. 
 
 M. 
 
 d; 
 
 Gathoring in Green River Valley — V'isitings and Feast- 
 ings of Leaders — Rough Wassailing among the Trap- 
 pers — Wild Blades of the Mountains— Indian Belles 
 — Potency of Bright Beads and Red Blankets — 
 Arrival of Supplies — Revelry and Extravagance — 
 Mad Wolves — The Lost Indian. 
 
 I' '!!''( 
 
 ■:'( 
 
 THK Green River Valley was at this time 
 the sceiie of one of those general gath- 
 " "^ erings Oi' traders, trappers, and Indians, 
 
 that we have already mentioned. The three 
 rival companies, which, for a year past had 
 been endeavorij.g to out-trade, out-trap, and 
 out-wit each other, were here encamped in 
 close proximity, awaiting their annual sup- 
 plies. About four miles from the rendezvous 
 of Captain Bonneville was that of the Ameiican 
 Fur Company, hard by which, was that also 
 of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. 
 
 After the eager rivalry and almost hostility 
 di.splayed by these companies in their late cam- 
 
 
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 'm 
 
 jp'' 
 
 Oatbcrind in (3rcen 'River Vallee 227 
 
 paigns, it might be expected that, when thus 
 brought in juxtaposition, they would hold 
 themselves warily and sternly aloof from each 
 other, and should they happen to come in con- 
 tact, brawl and bloodshed would ensue. 
 
 No such thing ! Never did rival lawyers, 
 after a wrangle at the bar, meet with more 
 social good humor at a circuit dinner. The 
 hunting season over, all past tricks and ma- 
 noeuvres are forgotten, all feuds and bickerings 
 buried in oblivion. From the middle of June 
 to the middle of September, all trapping is 
 suspended ; for the beavers are then shedding 
 their furs, and their skins are of little value. 
 This, then, is the trapper's holiday, vvhen he 
 is all for fun and frolic, and ready for a satur- 
 nalia among the moinitains. 
 
 At the present season, too, all parties were 
 in good humor. The \ear had been productive. 
 Competition, by threatening to lessen their 
 profits, had quickened their wits, roused their 
 energies, and made them turn every favorable 
 chance to the best advantage ; so that, on as- 
 sembling at their respective places of rendez- 
 vous, each company four.d itself in possession 
 of a rich stock of j^eltries. 
 
 The leaders of the different companies, there- 
 fore, mingled on terms of perfect good fellow- 
 ship ; interchanging visits, and regaling each 
 
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 :i6onneviUe'6 BOventurcB 
 
 other in the best style their respective camps 
 afforded. But the rich treat for the worthy 
 captain was to see the " chivalry " of the vari- 
 ous encampments, engaged in contests of skill 
 at running, jumping, wrestling, shooting with 
 the rifle, and running horses. And then their 
 rough hunters' feastings and carousals. They 
 drank together, they sang, they laughed, they 
 whooped ; they tried to outbrag and outlie 
 each other in stories of their adventures and 
 achievements. Here the free trappers were in 
 all their glory ; they considered themselves the 
 " cocks of the walk," and always carried the 
 highest crests. Now and then familiarity was 
 pushed too far, and would effervesce into a 
 brawl, and a " rough and tumble " fight ; but 
 it all elided in cordial reconciliation and maud- 
 li!i endearment. 
 
 The presence of the vShoshonie tribe contri- 
 buted occasionally to cause temporary jealousies 
 and feuds. The Shoslionie beauties became 
 objects of rivalry among some of the amorous 
 mountaineers. Happy was the trapper who 
 could muster up a red blanket, a string of gay 
 beads, or a paper of precious vermilion, with 
 which to win the smiles of a Shoslionie fair 
 one. 
 
 The caravans of supplies arrived at the valley 
 just at this |>eriod of gallantry and good fellow- 
 
 ^m^^m 
 
 MT^^ 
 
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 ■^ 
 
 ] 
 
 "Kevelrs and Sstravadancc 
 
 229 
 
 ■■^■ies: 
 
 ^■; 
 
 ship. Now commenced a scene of eager com- 
 petition and wild prodigality at the different 
 encampments. Bales were hastily ripped open, 
 and their motlej' contents poured forth. A 
 mania for purchasing spread itself throughout 
 the several bands — munitions for war, for 
 hunting, for gallantry, were .seized upon with 
 equal avidity — rifles, hunting knives, traps, 
 scarlet cloth, red blankets, gairish beads, and 
 glittering trinkets, were bought at any price, 
 and .scores run up without any thought how 
 they were ever to be rubbed off. The free 
 trappers, especially, were extravagant in their 
 purchases. For a free mountaineer to pause 
 at a paltry consideration of dollars and cents, 
 in tlie attaitnnent of any oliject that might 
 strike his fancy, would stamp him with the 
 mark of the beast in the estimation of his 
 comrades. For a trader to refuse one of these 
 free and flourishing blades a credit, whatever 
 unpaid scores might .stare him in the face, 
 would be a flagrant affront .scarcely to be 
 forgiven. 
 
 Now succeeded another outbreak of revelry 
 and extravagance. The trappers were newly 
 fitted out and arrayed, and dashed about with 
 their horses caparisoned in Indian style. The 
 ShoslKmie beauties also flaunted about in all 
 the colors of the rainbow. Every freak of 
 
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 230 
 
 JBonneville'd Bdventutes 
 
 prodigality was indulged to its full extent, and 
 in a little while most of the trappers, having 
 squandered away all their wages, and perhaps 
 run knee-deep in debt, were ready for another 
 hard campaign in the wilderness. 
 
 During this season of folly and frolic, there 
 was an alarm of mad wolves in the two lower 
 camps. One or more of these animals entered 
 the camps three nights successively, and bit 
 several of the people. 
 
 Captain Bonneville relates the case of an 
 Indian, who was a universal favorite in the 
 lower camp. He had been bitten l)y one of 
 ihese animals. Being out with a parl\ shortly 
 afterwards, he grew silent and gloomy, and 
 lagged behind the rest as if he wished to leave 
 them. They halted and urged him 'to move 
 faster, but he entreated them not to approach 
 him, and, leaping from his horse, began to roll 
 frantically on the earth, gnashing his teeth and 
 foaming at the mouth. Still he retained his 
 senses, and warned his companions not to 
 come near him, as he should not be able to 
 restrain himself from biting them. They hur- 
 ried off to obtain relief; but on their return 
 he was nowhere to be found. His horse and 
 accoutrements remained upon the spot. Three 
 or four days afterwards a solitary Indian, be- 
 lieved to be the same, was observed crossing a 
 
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 v^ M 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 f\ 
 
 tJ 
 
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 ■Vii' 
 
 "fcB&ropbobia 
 
 valley, and pursued ; but he darted away into 
 the fastnesses of the mountains, and was seen 
 no more. 
 
 Another instance we have from a different 
 person who was present in the encampment. 
 One of the men of the Rocky Mountain Fur 
 Company had been bitten. He set out shortly 
 afterwards, in company with two white men, 
 on his return to the settlements. In the course 
 of a few days he showed symptoms of hydro- 
 phobia, and became raving towards night. At 
 length, breaking away from his companions, 
 he rushed into a thicket of willows, where 
 they left him to his fate ! 
 
 Jfci. 
 
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 II 
 
 
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 Schemes of Captain Bonneville — The Great Salt Lake 
 — Expedition to Explore it — Preparations for a 
 Journey to the Bighorn. 
 
 CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE now found 
 himself at the head of a hard}', well- 
 seasoned and well-appointed company 
 of trappers, all benefited by at least one year's 
 experience among the mountains, and capable 
 of protecting themselves from Indian wiles 
 and stratagems, and of providing for their sub- 
 sistence wherever game was to he foinul. lie 
 had, also, an excellent troop of horses, in prime 
 condition, and fi« for hard service. lie deter- 
 mined, therefore, to strike out into some of the 
 bolder parts of his scheme. One of tlicse was 
 to carry his exjicditions into .some of the un- 
 known tracts of the Far West, beyond what is 
 generally termed the buffalo range. This would 
 have .something of the merit and charm of 
 discover) , so dear to every brave and adven- 
 
 232 
 
 :mf2j^ 
 
 m 
 
 "■^KKSiS:- 
 
 ^^*> 
 
g^'?^S^ 
 
 turous spirit. Another favorite project was to 
 establish a trading post on tlie lower part of 
 the Columbia River, near the Multnon- ah 
 Valley, and to endeavor to retrieve for his 
 country some of the lost trade of Astoria. 
 
 The first of the above-mentioned views was, 
 at present, uppermost in his mind — the explor- 
 ing of unknown regions. Among the grand 
 features of the wilderness about which he was 
 roaming, one had made a vivid impression on 
 his mind, and been clothed bj' his imagination 
 with vague and ideal charms. This is a great 
 lake of salt water, laving the feet of the moun- 
 tains, but extending far to the west-southwest, 
 into one of those vast and elevated plateaus of 
 land, which range high ab<He the level of the 
 Pacific. 
 
 Captain Bonneville gives a .striking account 
 of the lake when seen from the land. As you 
 ascend the mountain .ilwut its shores, .says he, 
 you behold this immense body of water spread- 
 ing itself before you, and .stretching farther and 
 farther, in one wide and far-reaching expanse, 
 until the eye, wearied with continued and 
 .strained attention, rests in the blue dimness 
 of distance, upon lofty ranges of mountains, 
 confidently a.s.serted to rise from the bosom of 
 the waters. Nearer to you, the smooth and 
 unruffled surface is studded with little i.slands, 
 
 
 cf% 
 
 
 
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 : 
 

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 234 
 
 JBoniievtlle's Bdventuree 
 
 where the mountain sheep roam in considerable 
 numbers. What extent of lowland may be en- 
 compassed by the high peaks beyond, must 
 remain for the present matter of mere conjec- 
 ture ; though from the form of the summits, 
 and the breaks which may be discovered 
 among them, there can be little doubt that 
 they are the sources of streams calculated to 
 water large tracts, which are probably con- 
 cealed from view by the rotundity of the lake's 
 surface. At some future day, in all probability, 
 the rich harvest of beaver fur which may be 
 reasonably anticipated in such a spot, will 
 tempt adventurers to reduce all this doubtful re- 
 gion to the palpable certainty of a beaten track. 
 At present, however, destitute of the means 
 of making boats, the trapper stands upon the 
 shore, and gazes upon a promised land which 
 his feet are never to tread. 
 
 Such is the somewhat fanciful view which 
 Captain Bonneville gives of this great body of 
 water. He has evidently taken part of his 
 ideas concerning it from the representations 
 of others, who have somewhat exaggerated its 
 features. It is reported to be about one hun- 
 dred and fifty miles long, and fifty miles broad. 
 The ranges of mountain peaks which Captain 
 Bonneville speaks of, as rising from its bosom, 
 are probably the summits of mountains beyond 
 
 ;^M# 
 
Cb<; (Stcat Salt lake 
 
 235 
 
 it, which may be visible at a vast distance, 
 when viewed from an eminence, in the trans- 
 parent atmosphere of these lofty regions. Sev- 
 eral large islands certainly exist in the lake ; 
 one of which is said to be mountainous, but 
 not by any means to the extent required to 
 farnish the series of peaks above mentionc i 
 
 Captain Sublette, in one of his early expedi- 
 tions across the mountains, is said to have 
 sent four men in a skin canoe to explore the 
 lake, who professed to have navigated all 
 round it ; but to have suffered excessively from 
 thirst, the water of the lake being extremely 
 salt, and there being no fresh streams running 
 into it. 
 
 Captai:: Bonneville doubts this report, or 
 that the mei; accomplished the circumnaviga- 
 tion, because, he says, the lake receives several 
 large streams from the mountains which bound 
 it to the east. In the spring, when the streams 
 are swollen by rain and by the melting of the 
 snows, the lake rises several feet aL,~,<; its 
 ordinary level ; during the summer, it grad- 
 ually subsides again, leaving a sparkling zone 
 of the finest salt upon its shores. 
 
 The elevation of the vast plateau on which 
 this lake is situated, is estimated by Captain 
 Bonneville at rne and three fourths of a mile 
 above the leveL^f the ocean. /The admirable 
 
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 purity and transparency of the atmosphere in 
 this region, allowing objects to be seen, and 
 the report of fire-arms to be heard, at an aston- 
 ishing distance ; and its extreme dryness, 
 causing the wheels of wagons to fall in pieces, 
 as instanced in former passages of this work, 
 are proofs of the great altitude of the Rocky 
 Mountain plains. That a body of salt water 
 •should exist at such a height, is cited as a 
 singular phenomenon by Captain Bonneville, 
 though the salt lake of Mexico is not much 
 inferior in elevation.* 
 
 To have this lake properly explored, and all 
 its secrets revealed, was the grand scheme of 
 the captain for the present year ; and while it 
 was one in which his imagination evidently 
 took a leading part, he believed it would be 
 attended with great profit, from the numerous 
 beaver streams with which the lake mu.st be 
 fringed. 
 
 This momentous undertaking he confided to 
 his lieutenant, Mr. Walker, in whose experi- 
 ence and ability he had great confidence. He 
 
 * The lake of Tezcuco, which surrounds the city of 
 Mexico, the largest and lowest of the five lakes on the 
 Mexican plateau, and one of the most imprej^nated 
 with saline particles, is seven thousand four hundred 
 and sixty-eight feet, or nearly one mile and a half 
 above the level of the sea. 
 
V 
 
 instructed him to keep along the shores of 
 the lake, and trap in all the streams on his 
 route ; also to keep a journal, and minutely 
 to record the events of his journey, and every- 
 thing curious or interesting, making maps or 
 charts of his route, and of the surrounding 
 country. 
 
 No pains nor expense were spared in fitting 
 out the party of forty men, which he was to 
 command. They had complete supplies for a 
 year, and were to meet Captain Bonneville in 
 the ensuing summer, in the valley of Bear 
 River, the largest tributary of the Salt Lake, 
 which was to be his point of general rendez- 
 vous. 
 
 The next care of Captain Bonneville, was to 
 arrange for the safe transportation of the pel- 
 tries which he had collected, to the Atlantic 
 Slates. Mr. Robert Campbell, the partner of 
 Sublette, was at this time in the rendezvous 
 of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, having 
 brought up their supplies. He was about to 
 set off on his return, with the peltries collected 
 during the year, and intended to proceed 
 through the Crow country, to the head of 
 navigation on the Bighorn River, and to de- 
 scend in boats down that river, the Missouri, 
 and the Yellowstone, to >St. Louis. 
 
 Captain Bonneville determined to forward 
 
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 ptT'-s^f ,4''. jtrfxi^', 
 
 
 338 
 
 Xotmevillc'B Bdventuree 
 
 ■V'"' 
 
 TS 
 
 \ 
 
 his peltries by the same route, under the es- \" ' 
 pecial care of Mr. Cerre. By way of escort, 
 he would accompany Cerr6 to the point of em- 
 barkation, and then make an autumnal hunt 
 in the Crow country 
 
 1 
 
 ^^. ^fi 
 
 '0 
 
i: 
 
 Cbaptec mi. 
 
 The Crow Countrv — A Crow Paradise — Habits of the 
 Crows — Anecdotes of Rose, the Renegade White 
 Man — His Fights with the Blackfeet — His Eleva- 
 tion — His Death — Arapooish, the Crow Chief— His 
 Eagle— Adventure of Robert Campbell — Honor 
 among Crows. 
 
 BEFORE we accompany Captain Bonne- 
 ville into the Crow country, we will 
 impart a few facts about this wild re- 
 gion, and the wild people who inhabit it. We 
 are not aware of the precise boundaries, if 
 there are any, of the country claimed by the 
 Crows ; it appears to extend from the Black 
 Hills to the Rocky Mountains, including a 
 part of their lofty ranges, and embracing many 
 of the plains and valleys watered by the Wind 
 River, the Yellowstone, the Powder River, the 
 Little Missouri, and the Nebraska. The coun- 
 try varies in soil and climate ; there are vast 
 plains of sand and clay, studded with large 
 red sand-hills ; other parts are mountainous 
 
 239 
 
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 &' 
 
 /!,'' 
 
 ,-57^ 
 
 1 
 
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 l.il 
 
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 SBonncvUle'd BDvcntures 
 
 and picturesque ; it possesses warm springs, 
 and coal mines, and aboimds with game. 
 
 Hut let us give the account of the country, 
 as rendered by Arapooish, a Crow chief, to 
 Mr. Robert Campbell, of the Rocky Mountain 
 Fur Company. 
 
 "The Crow countrj'," .said he, "is a good 
 country. The Great Spirit has put it exactly 
 in the right place ; while you are in it 3-ou 
 fare well; whenever yiii go out of it, which- 
 ever way you travel, you fare worse. 
 
 " If you go to the .south, you have to wander 
 over great barren plains ; the water is warm 
 and bad, and you meet the fever and ague. 
 
 " To the north it is cold ; the winters are long 
 and bitter, with no grass ; you cannot keep 
 horses there, but must travel with dogs. What 
 is a country without horses ? 
 
 " On the Columbia they are poor and dirty, 
 paddle about in canoes, and eat fish. Their 
 teeth are worn out ; they are always taking 
 fish-bones out of their mouths. Fish is poor 
 food. 
 
 " To tlie east, they dwell in villages ; they 
 live well ; but they drink the muddy water 
 of the Missouri — that is bad. A Crow's dog 
 would not drink such water. 
 
 " About the forks of the Mi.ssouri is a fine 
 country ; good water ; good grass ; plenty of 
 
 
 ! 
 
CT5^ 
 
 n^ 
 
 buffalo. In summer it is almost as jjood as 
 the Crow country ; but in winter it is cold ; 
 the grass is gone ; and there is no salt weed 
 for the horses. 
 
 ' ' The Crow country is exactly in the right 
 place. It has snowy mountains and sunny 
 plains ; all kinds of climates, and good things 
 for every season. When the summer heats 
 scorch the prairies, you can draw up under 
 the mountains, where the air is sweet and cool, 
 the grass fresh, and the bright streams come 
 tumbling out of the snow-banks. There you 
 can hunt the elk, the deer, and the antelope, 
 when their skins are fit for dressing ; there 
 you will find plenty of white bears and moun- 
 tain sheep. 
 
 " In the autumn, when your horses are fat 
 and strong from the mountain pastures, you 
 can go down into the plains and hunt the buf- 
 falo, or trap beaver on the streams. And when 
 winter comes on, you can take .shelter in the 
 woody bottoms along tlie rivers ; there you 
 will find buffalo meat for yourselves, and cot- 
 ton-wood bark for your horses ; or you may 
 winter in the Wind River Valley, where there 
 is salt weed in abundance. 
 
 "The Crow country is exactly in the right 
 place. Everything good is to be found there. 
 There is no country like the Crow country." 
 
 VOL. I.— 16 
 
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 ?-^p>e^^ /*^ X!r^...M«*:V^-«^ 
 
 242 
 
 JBonncrUlc'8 BOvcnturcs 
 
 Such is the eulogium on his country by 
 Arapooish, 
 
 We have had repeated occasions to speak of 
 the restless and predatory habits of the Crows. 
 They can muster fifteen hundred fighting men ; 
 but their incessant wars with the Blackfeet, 
 and tlieir vagabond, predatory habits, are 
 gradually wearing them out. 
 
 In a recent work, we related the circumstance 
 of a white man named Rose, an outlaw, and a 
 designing vagabond, who acted as guide and 
 interpreter to Mr. Hunt and his party, on their 
 journey' across the mountains to Astoria, who 
 came near betraying them into the hands of 
 the Crows, and who remained among the tribe, 
 marrying one of their women, and adopting 
 their C(mgenial habits.* A few anecdotes of 
 the subsequent fortunes of that renegade may 
 not be uninteresting, esj^ecially as they are con- 
 nected with the fortunes of the tril)e. 
 
 Ro.se was powerful in frame and fearless in 
 spirit ; and .soon by his daring deeds took his 
 rank among the first braves of the tribe. He 
 aspired to command, and knew it was only to 
 be attained by desperate exploits. He distin- 
 guished himself in repeated actions with the 
 Blackfeet. On one occasion, a band of tho.se 
 savages had fortified themselves within a 
 * See Astoria. 
 
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 IRose tbe Outlaw 
 
 243 
 
 breastwork, and could not be harmed. Rose 
 proposed to storm the work, " Who will take 
 the lead ? " was the demand. " I ! " cried he 
 and putting himself at their head, rushed for- 
 ward. The first Blackfoot that opposed him 
 he shot down with his rifle, and, snatching up 
 the war-club of his victim, killed four others 
 within the fort. The victory was complete, 
 and Rose returned to the Crow village covered 
 with glory, and bearing five Blackfoot scalps, 
 to be erected as a trophy before his lodge. 
 From this time, he was known among the 
 Crows by tlie namo of Che-ku-kaats, or " the 
 man who killed five. ' ' He became chief of the 
 village, or rather band, and for a time was the 
 popular idol. Ilis popularity soon awakened 
 envy among the native braves ; he was a stran- 
 ger, an intruder, a white man. A party seceded 
 from his conunand. Feuds and civil wars .suc- 
 ceeded that lasted for two or three years, until 
 Rose, having contrived to set his adopted 
 brethren by the ears, left them, and went down 
 the Missouri in 1S23. Here he fell in with one 
 of the earliest trapping expeditions sent by 
 General Ashley across the mountains. It was 
 conducted l)y Smith, Fitzpatrick, and Sublette. 
 Rose enlisted with them as guide and inter- 
 preter. When he got them among the Crows, 
 he was exceedingly generous with their goods ; 
 
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 li 
 
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 il 
 
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 '•/t 
 
 making presents to the braves of his adopted 
 tribe, as became a high-minded chief. 
 
 This, doubtless, helped to revive his popu- 
 larity. In that expedition, Smith and Fitz- 
 patrick were robbed of their horses in Green 
 River Valley ; the place where the robbery took 
 place still bears the name of Horse Creek. 
 We are not informed whether the horses were 
 stolen through the instigation and management 
 of Rose ; it is not improbalile, for such was the 
 perfid}' he had intended to practise on a former 
 occasioti towards Mr. Hunt and his partv. 
 
 The last anecdote we have of Rose is from 
 an Indian trader. When General Atkinson 
 made his military expedition up tlie Missouri, 
 in 1825, to protect the fur trade, he held a con- 
 ference with the Crow nation, at which Rose 
 figured as Indian dignitarj* and Crow inter- 
 preter. The militar)' were stationed at some 
 little distance from the .scene of the " big talk " ; 
 while the general and the chiefs were smoking 
 pipes and making speeches, the officers, sup- 
 posing all was friendly, left the troops, and 
 drew near the scene of ceremonial. Some of 
 the more knowing Crows, perceiving this, stole 
 quietlj' to camp, and, unobserved, contrived to 
 stop the touch-holes of the field-pieces with 
 dirt. Shortly after, a misunderstanding oc- 
 curred in the conference ; .some of the Indians, 
 
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is 
 
 ^mm 
 
 ti06C'6 POUCS 
 
 fl 
 
 knowing the cannon to be useless, became in- 
 solent. A tumult arose. In the confusion, 
 Colonel O' Fallon snapped a pistol in t!ie face 
 of a brave, and knocked him down with the 
 butt end. The Crows were all in a fury. A 
 chance-medley fight was on the point of taking 
 place, when Rose, his natural sympathies as a 
 white man suddenly recurring, broke the stock 
 of his fusee over the head of a Crow warrior, 
 and laid so vigorously about him with the bar- 
 rel, that he soon put the whole throng to flight. 
 Luckily, as no lives had been lost, this .sturdy 
 rib-roasting calmed the fury of the Crows, and 
 the tumult ended without serious consequences. 
 What was the ultimate fate of this vagabond 
 hero is not distinctly known. Some report him 
 to have fallen a victim to disease, brought on 
 by his licentious life ; others assert that he was 
 murdered in a feud among the Crows. Aftei 
 all, his residence among these savages, and the 
 i^ influence he acquired over them, had, for a 
 >V time, some beneficial effects. He is .said, not 
 \flj merely to have rendered them more formidable 
 ^w^^v, to the Blackfeet, but to have opened their eyes 
 to the policy of cultivating the friendship of the 
 white men. 
 
 After Ro.se' s death, his policy continued to 
 be cultivated, with indifferent success, by 
 Arapooish, the chief already mentioned, who 
 
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i 
 
 
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 ^•yi^ 
 
 JtsA^uf- 
 
 .,\-^ 
 
 • .-'^**lKe>^"^ ' 
 
 246 3Sonnevillc'd B!)venturcs 
 
 had been his great friend, and whose character 
 he had contributed to develop. Tliis sagacious 
 chief endeavored, on every occasion, to restrain 
 the predatory propensities of his tribe when 
 directed against the white men. " If we keep 
 friends with them," said he, " we have nothing 
 to fear from the Blackfeet, and can rule the 
 mountains." Arapooish pretended to be a 
 great "medicine man" ; a rharacter among 
 the Indians which is a compound of priest, doc- 
 tor, projihet, and conjuror, Me carried about 
 with him a tame eagle, as his " medicine " or 
 familiar. With the white men, he acknowl- 
 edged that this was all charlatanism ; but said 
 i it was nece.ssary, to give him weight and influ- 
 ence among his people. 
 
 Mr. Roljert Campbell, from whom we liave 
 most of these facts, in the course of one of liis 
 trapping expeditions, was quartered in the vil- 
 lage of Arapooish, and a guest in the lodge of 
 the chieftain. He had collected a lar\je (juan- 
 tity of furs, and, fearful of being plundered, 
 deposited Imt a part in the lodge of the chief; 
 the rest he buried in a car//)-. One night, Ara- 
 pooish came into the lodge with a cloudy brow, 
 and .seated himself for a time without saying a 
 word. At length, turning to Campbell, "Von 
 have more furs with you," said he, " than you 
 have brought into my lodge ?" 
 
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 Campbell's BOvcnture 247 ' 
 
 " I have," replied Campbell, 
 
 "Where are they?" 
 
 Campbell knew the uselessness of any pre- 
 varication with an Indian ; and the importance 
 of complete frankness. He described the exact 
 place where he had concealed his peltries. 
 
 ''T is well," replied Arapooish ; "you speak 
 .straight. It is just as you say. But your rar/it' 
 has been robbed. Go and .see how many skins 
 have been taken from it." 
 
 Campbell examined the cache, and estimated 
 his loss to be about one hundred and fifty 
 beaver .skins. 
 
 Arapooish now summoned a meeting of the 
 village. He bitterly reproached his people for 
 robbing a stranger who had confided to their 
 honor ; and commanded that whoever had 
 taken the .skins, should bring them back ; 
 declaring that, as Campbell was his guest and 
 inmate of his lodge, he would not eat nor drink 
 until every skin was restored to him. 
 
 The meeting broke up, and every one dis- 
 pensed. Arajiooish now charged Campbell to 
 give neither reward nor thanks to any one who 
 should bring in the beaver skins, but to keep 
 count as they were delivered. 
 
 In a little while, the skins began to nmke 
 their appearance, a few at a lime ; they were 
 laid down in the lodge, and tho.se who brought 
 
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 them departed without saying a word. The 
 day passed away. Arapooish sat in one cor- 
 ner of his lodge, wrapped up in his robe, 
 scarcely moving a muscle of his countenance. 
 When night arrived, he demanded if all the 
 skins had been brought in. Above a hundred 
 had been given up, and Campbell expressed 
 himself contented. Not .so the Crow chieftain. 
 He fa.sted all that night, nor tasted a drop of 
 water. In the morning, .some more .skins were 
 brought in, and continued to come, one and 
 two at a time, throughout the day ; until but a 
 few were wanting to make the number com- 
 plete. Campbell was now anxious to put an 
 end to this fasting of the old chief, and declared 
 that he was perfectly satisfied. Arapooish 
 demanded what number of skins were yet 
 wanting. On being told, he whispered to some 
 of his people, who disappeared. After a time 
 the number were brought in, though it was 
 evident they were not any of the skins that 
 had been stolen, but others gleaned in the vil- 
 lage. 
 
 " Is all right now?" demanded Arapooish. 
 
 " All is right," replied Campbell. 
 
 " Good ! Now bring me meat and drink ! " 
 
 When they were alone together, Arapooish 
 had a conversation with his guest. 
 
 ' ' When you come another time among the 
 
 irM'fl 
 
 t-^, 
 
?£::)S:^'^ 
 
 Ijonor Bmoiid Ccow 
 
 C^ 
 
 vs? 
 
 ^.^. 
 
 Crows," said he, "don't hide your goods; 
 trust to them and they will not wrong you. 
 Put your goods in the lodge of a chief, and 
 they are sacred ; hide them in a cache, and any 
 one who finds them will steal them. My peo- 
 ple have now given up your goods for my sake ; 
 but there are some foolish young men in the 
 village, who may be disposed to be trouble- 
 some. Don't linger, therefore, but pack your 
 horses and be off." 
 
 Campbell took his advice, and made his way 
 safelv out of the Crow country. He has ever 
 since maintained, that the Crows are not so 
 black as they are painted. "Trust to their 
 honor," says he, "and you are safe ; trust to 
 their honesty, and they will steal the hair oflF 
 of your head." 
 
 Having given these few preliminarj' particu- 
 lars, we will resume the course of our narrative. 
 
 
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 r'J/ 
 
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 Gbaptcr I'nuH. 
 
 Departure from Green River Valley — Popo Agie — Its 
 Course — The Rivers into which it Runs— Scenery 
 of the ]51uiTs — The Great Tar Sprinj^ — Volcatiic 
 Traits in the Crow Country— IJurning Mountain of 
 r/\Nfc~ Powder River — Sulphur .Sprinj^s — Hidden I'ires — 
 
 Colter's Hell— Wind River— Campbell's Party— 
 ^^i*j_/ Pitzpatrick and his Trappers — Captain Stewart, an 
 
 Amateur Traveller — Nathaniel Wyeth — Anecdotes 
 of his Pvxpedition to the P'ar West — Disaster of 
 Campbell's Party— A Union of Bands — The Bad 
 Pass — The Rapids — Departure of Pilzpatrick — Pjn- 
 barkation of Peltries — Wyeth and his Bull Boat — 
 Adventures of Captain Bonneville in the Bij^horn 
 Mountains — Adventures in the Plain— Traces of In- 
 dians — Travelling Precautions — Dangers of Making 
 a Smoke — TI Rendezvous. 
 
 OX tlie 25th of July, Captain Bonneville 
 strtick his tents, and set otxt on his route 
 for the Bighorn, at the head of a party 
 of fifty six men. including those who were to 
 embark with Cerre. Crossing the Green River 
 Valley, he proceeded along the south point of 
 the Wind River range of mountains, and soon 
 
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*xT^. 
 
 Zbe popo Bgie 
 
 251 
 
 fell upon the track of Mr. Robert CaiiipDell's 
 party, which had preceded him by a day. 
 This he pursued, luitil he perceived that it led 
 down the banks of the Sweet Water to the 
 southeast. As this was different from his pro- 
 posed direction, he left it ; and turning to the 
 northeast, soon came upon the waters of the 
 Popo Agie. This stream takes its rise in the 
 Wind River Mountains. Its name, like most 
 Indian names, is characteristic. J\)/)o, in the 
 Crow language, signifying head ; and .•/;'/<', 
 river. It is the head of a long river, extending 
 from the south end of the Wind River Moun- 
 tains in a northeast direction, until it falls 
 into the Yellowstone. Its course is generally 
 through plains, bu. is twice crossed by chains 
 of mountains ; the first called the I^ittlehorn, 
 the .second, the Bighorn. After it has forced 
 its way through the first chain, it is called the 
 Horn River ; after the sectmd chain, it is called 
 the Bighorn River. Its pa.ssage through this 
 last chain is rough and violent ; making re- 
 peated falls, and rushing down long and furious 
 rapids, which threatened destruction to the 
 navigator ; though a hardy trapper is said to 
 have shot down them in a canoe. At the foot 
 of these rapids, is the head of navigation ; 
 where it was the intention of the parties to 
 construct boats, and embark. 
 
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 353 
 
 JSonnevillc'd Bdventurca 
 
 Proceeding down along the Popo Agie, Cap- 
 tain Bonneville came again in full view of the 
 "Bluffs," as they are called, extending from 
 the base of the Wind River Mountains far 
 awaj' to the east, and presenting to the eye a 
 confusion of hills and cliffs of red sandstone, 
 some peaked and angular, some round, some 
 broken into crags and precipices, and piled up 
 in fantastic masses ; but all naked and sterile. 
 There appeared to be no soil favorable to vege- 
 tation, nothing but coarse gravel ; yet, over 
 all this isolated, barren landscape, were diffused 
 such atmospherical tints and hues, as to blend 
 the rt'hole into harmony and beauty. 
 
 In this neighborhood, the captain made 
 search for the "Great Tar Spring," one of 
 the wonders of the mountains ; the medicinal 
 properties of which, he had heard extravagantly 
 lauded by the trajipers. After a toilsome 
 search, he found it at the foot of a sand-bluff, 
 a little to the east of the Wind River Moun- 
 tains ; where it exuded in a small stream of 
 the color and consistency of tar. The men im- 
 mediately ha.stened to collect a quantity of it 
 to use as an ointment for the galled backs of 
 their horses, and as a balsam for their own 
 pains and aches. From the description given 
 of it, it is evidently the bituminous oil, called 
 petroleum or naphtha, which forms a principal 
 
 > 
 
 ;^^f^^^ 
 
[^^ 
 
 
 Tlatural Curiostttei? 
 
 CO, ^ 
 
 ingredient in the potent medicine called British 
 Oil. It is found in various parts of Europe 
 and Asia, in several of the West India islands, 
 and in some places of the United States. In 
 the State of New York, it is called Seneca Oil, 
 from being found near the Seneca Lake. 
 
 The Crow country has other natural curiosi- 
 ties, which are held in superstitious awe by the 
 Indians, and considered great niar\'els by the 
 trappers. Such is the burning mountain, on 
 Powder River, abounding with anthracite coal. 
 Here the earth is hot and cracked ; in many 
 places emitting .smoke and sulphurous vapors, 
 as if covering concealed fires. A volcanic 
 tract of similar character is found on Stinking 
 River, one of the tributaries of the Bighorn, 
 which takes its unhappy name from the odor 
 derived from sulphurous springs and streams. 
 This last-mentioned place was first discovered 
 by Colter, a hunter belonging to Lewis and 
 Clarke's exploring party, who came upon it in 
 the course of his lonely wanderings, and gave 
 such an account of its gloomy terrors, its hid- 
 den fires, smoking pits, noxious streams, and 
 the all-pervading "smell of brimstone," that 
 it received, and has ever since retained among 
 trappers, the name of " Colter's Hell ! " 
 
 Resuming his descent along the left bank of 
 the Popo Agie, Captain Bonneville soon reached 
 
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Ft'! 
 
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 3Bonnevtne'6 Bdvcnturcd 
 
 the plains ; where he found several large 
 streams entering from the west. Among these 
 was Wind River, which gives its name to the 
 mountains among which it takes its rise. This 
 is one of the most important .streams of the 
 Crow country. The river being much swollen, 
 Captain Bonneville halted at its mouth, and 
 .sent out .scouts to look for a fording place. 
 While thus encamped, he beheld in the course 
 of the afternoon, a long line of hor.semen de- 
 .scending the slope of the hills on the opposite 
 side of the Popo Agie. His first idea was, 
 that they were Indians ; he .soon di.scovered, 
 however, that they were white men, and, by 
 the long line of pack-horses, ascertained them 
 to be the convoy of Campbell, which, having 
 descended the Sweet Water, was now t)n its 
 way to the Horn River. 
 
 The two parties came together twa or three 
 days afterwards, on the 4th of August, after 
 having passed through the gap of the Little- 
 horn Mountain. In company with Campbell's 
 convoj', was a trapping party of the Rocky 
 Mountain Company, headed by Fitzpatrick ; 
 who, after Campbell's embarkation on the Big- 
 horn, was to take charge of all the horses, and 
 proceed on a trapping campaign. There were, 
 moreover, two chance companions in the rival 
 camp. One was Captain Stewart of the Brit- 
 
 ■-; 
 
 i'i.\ 
 
on its 
 
 :)r three 
 t, after '^ 
 
 Little- 
 iipbell's 
 
 Rocky 
 
 >atrick ; 
 
 .heBiK- ^^^-^;,, 
 
 ses, ami \T V ^y 
 
 re were, ^ U 
 
 he rival WT.) 
 
 he Brit- .%Vl 
 %-v - 
 
 The Edi^r of I he Lava Beds. 
 
 Kill) •i-.t'ii I > i'»i it 
 
 l^lu'to-.nal'h. 
 
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 III 
 
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 v^v.* ii jy ^ ^' 'i.'a.'^ <*,4; w v^t. 
 
 /I^ectiiid wttb Campbell 
 
 255 
 
 ish army, a gentleman of noble connections, 
 who was amusing himself by a wandering tour 
 in the Far West ; in the course of which, he 
 had lived in hunter's style ; accompanying 
 various bands of traders, trappers, and Indians ; 
 and manifesting that relish for Ihe wilderness 
 that belongs to men of game and sjMrit. 
 
 The other casual inmate of Mr. Campbell's 
 camp was Mr. Nathaniel Wyeth ; the self-same 
 leader of the band of New iCngland salmon 
 fishers, with whom we parted company in the 
 valley of Pierre's Hole, after the battle with 
 the Blackfeet. A few days after that affair, he 
 again set out from the rendezvous in company 
 with Milton Sublette and his brigade of trap- 
 pers. On his march, he visited the battle 
 ground, and penetrated to t'rj deserted fort of 
 the Blackfeet in the midst of the wood. It 
 was a dismal scene. The fort was strewed 
 with the mouldering bodies of the .slain ; while 
 vultures soared aloft, or sat brooding on the 
 trees around ; and Indian dogs howled about 
 the place, as if bewailing the death of their 
 masters. Wyeth travelled for a considerable 
 distance to the .southwest, in company with 
 Milton vSublette, when they separated ; and 
 the former, with eleven men, the remnant of 
 his band, pu.shed on for Snake River; kept 
 down the course of that eventful stream ; 
 
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>'/-) ^,— — 
 
 
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 3BonnevUlc'0 B5rcnturc6 
 
 traversed the Blue Mountains, trapping beaver 
 occasionally bj^ the way, and finally, after 
 hardships of all kinds, arrived, on the 29th of 
 October, at Vancouver, on the Columbia, the 
 main factory of the Hudson's Bay Company. 
 He experienced hospitable treatment at the 
 hands of the agents of that company ; but his 
 men, heartily tired of wandering in the wil- 
 derness, or tempted by other prospects, re- 
 fused, for the most part, to continue any longer 
 in his service. Some set off for the Sandwich 
 Islands ; some entered inti, other employ. 
 Wyeth found, too, that a great part of the 
 goods he had brought with him were unfitted 
 for the Indian trade ; in a word, his expedi- 
 tion, undertaken entirely on his own resources, 
 proved a failure. He lost everything invested 
 in it, but his hopes. These were as strong as 
 ever. He took note of everything, therefore, 
 that could be of service to him in the further 
 prosecution of his project ; collected all the 
 information within his reach, and then set off, 
 accompanied by merely two men, on his re- 
 turn journey across the continent. He had 
 got thus far, " by hook and by crook," a mode 
 in which a New England man can make his 
 way all over the world, and through all kinds 
 of difficulties, and was now bound for Boston, 
 in full confidence of being able to form a com- 
 
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w# 
 
 .X** . 
 
 ■^-r^" 
 
 —^ >M,!i* 
 
 Etsaster of Campbell's pattg 
 
 
 pany fi^r the salmon fishery and fur trade of 
 the Cohimbia. 
 
 The party of Mr. Campbell had met with a 
 disaster in the course of their route from the 
 vSweet Water. Three or four of the men, wlio 
 were reconnoitring the country in the advance 
 of the main body, were visited one night in 
 tlieir camp, by fifteen or twenty Shoshonies. 
 Considering this tribe as perfectly friendly, 
 they received them in the most cordial and 
 confiding manner. In the course of the night, 
 the man on guard near the horses fell sound 
 asleep ; upon which a Shoshonie shot him in 
 the head, and nearly killed him. The sav- 
 ages then made off with the horses, leaving 
 the rest of the party to find their way to the 
 main body on foot. 
 
 The rival companies of Captain Bonneville 
 and Mr. Campbell, thus fortuitously brought 
 together, now prosecuted their journey in great 
 good fellowship, forming a joint camp of about 
 a hundred men. The captain, however, began 
 to entertain doubts that Fitzpatrick and his 
 trappers, who kept profound silence as to their 
 future movements, intended to hunt the .same 
 groiuids which he had selected for his autumnal 
 campaign, which lay to the west of the Horn 
 River, on its tributary streams. In the course 
 of his march, therefore, he secretly detached 
 
 VOL. I. — 17 
 
 
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 V 
 
 *3; 
 
 JSonneville's adventures 
 
 a small party of trappers, to make their way to 
 those hunting grounds, while he continued on 
 with the main body ; appointing a rendezvous, 
 at the next full moon, about the 28th of Au- 
 gust, at a place called the Medicine Lodge. 
 
 On reaching the second chain, called the Big- 
 horn Mountains, where the river forced its im- 
 petuous way through a precipitous defile, with 
 cascades and rapids, the travellers were obliged 
 to leave its banks, and traverse the mountains 
 by a rugged and frightful route, emphatically 
 called the " Bad Pass." Descending the oppo- 
 site side, they again made for the river banks ; 
 and about the middle of August reached the 
 point below the rapids where the river becomes 
 navigable for boats. Here Captain Bonneville 
 detached a .second party of trappers, con.sisting 
 of ten men, to .seek and join those whom he 
 had detached while on the route, appointing 
 for them the same rendezvous (at the Medicine 
 Lodge), on the 28th of August. 
 
 All hands now set to work to construct " bull 
 boats." as they are technically called ; a hght, 
 fragile kind of bark, characteristic of the ex- 
 pedients and inventions of the wilderness ; 
 being formed of buffalo skins, stretched on 
 frames. They are sometimes, also, called skin 
 boats. Wyeth was the first ready ; and, with 
 his usual promptness and hardihood, launched 
 
 ij 
 
 "Lfi 
 
 V. 
 
\ 
 
 Departure of jritjpatrtck 
 
 his frail bark, singlj*, on this wild and hazard- 
 /tufV o"s voyage, down an almost interminable suc- 
 //_! v\ cession of rivers, winding through countries 
 teeming with savage hordes. Milton Sublette, 
 his former fellow-traveller, and his companion 
 in the battle scenes of Pierre's Hole, took pas- 
 sage in his boat. His crew consisted of two 
 white men and two Indians. We shall hear 
 further of Wyeth, and his wild voyage, in the 
 course of our wanderings about the Far West. 
 
 The remaining parties soon completed their 
 several armaments. That of Captain Bonne- 
 ville was composed of three bull boats, in which 
 he embarked all his peltries, giving them in 
 charge of Mr. Cerre, with a party of thirty-six 
 men. Mr. Campbell took command of his own 
 boats, and the little squadrons were soon glid- 
 ing down the bright current of the Bighorn. 
 
 The .secret precautions which Captain Bonne- 
 ville had taken, to throw his men first into the 
 trapping ground west of the Bighorn, were, 
 probably, superfluous. It did not appear that 
 Fitzpatrick had intended to hunt in that direc- 
 tion. The moment Mr. Campbell and his men 
 embarked with the peltries, Fitzpatrick took 
 charge of all the horses, amounting to above a 
 hundred, and struck off to the east, to trap 
 upon Littlehorn, Powder, and Tongue rivers. 
 He was accompanied by Captain Stewart, who 
 
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 ft 
 
 if 
 
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 ^ 
 
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 JGoiincvillc's BDvcnturcs 
 
 was desirous of having a range about the Crow 
 country. Of the adventures they met with in 
 that region of vagabonds and horse stealers, 
 we shall have something to relate hereafter. 
 
 Captain Bonneville being now left to prose- 
 cute his trapping campTign without rivalry, 
 set out, on the 17th of August, for the rendez- 
 vous at Medicine Lodge. He had but four 
 men remaining with him, and forty-six horses 
 to take care of ; with these he had to make his 
 way over mountain and plain, through a ma- 
 rauding, horse-stealing region, full of peril for 
 a numerous cavalcade so slightly manned. He 
 addressed himself to his difficult journey, how- 
 ever, with his usual alacrity of spirit. 
 
 In the afternoon of his first day's journey, 
 on drawing near to the Bighorn Mountain, on 
 the summit of which he intended to encamp 
 for the night, he observed, to his disquiet, a 
 cloud of smoke rising from its base. He came 
 to a halt, and watched it anxiously. It was 
 very irregular ; .sometimes it would almost die 
 away ; and then would mount up in heavy 
 volumes. There was, apparently, a large party 
 encamped there ; probably, .some ruffian horde 
 of Blackfeet. At any rate, it would not do for 
 so small a number of men, with .so numerous a 
 cavalcade, to venture wi^'iin sight of any wan- 
 dering tribe. Captain Bonneville and his 
 
 t/ 
 
 l\ 
 
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 iMm^^^^^^&^ 
 
 XLtavellinn iprccauttoittj 
 
 261 
 
 companions, therefore, avoided this dangerous 
 neighVjorhood, and, proceeding with extreme 
 caution, reached the sunnnit of the mountain, 
 apparently without being discovered. Here 
 they found a deserted Rlackfoot fort, in which 
 they ensconced themselves ; disposed of every- 
 thing as s curely as possible, and passed the 
 night without molestation. Early the next 
 morning they descended the south side of 
 the mountain into the great plain extending 
 between it and the Littlehorn range. Here 
 they soon came upon munerous footprints, 
 and the carcasses of buffaloes ; by which they 
 knew there must be Indians not far off. Cap- 
 tain B(mncville now began to feel solicitude 
 about the two small parties of trappers which 
 he had detached ; lest the Indians should have 
 come upon them liefore they had united their 
 forces. liut he sMll felt more solicitude about 
 his own party ; for it was hardly to be ex- 
 pected he could traverse these naked plains 
 undiscovered, when Indians were abroad ; and 
 should he be discovered, his chance would be 
 a desperate one. Kvcrything now depended 
 upon the greatest circumspection. It was 
 dangerous to discharge a gun, or light a fire, 
 or make the least noise, where such quick- 
 eared and quick- sigh ted enemies were at hand. 
 In the course of the day they saw indubitable 
 
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 ;J3omicvUle'i; BDvcnturca 
 
 signs that the buffalo had been roaming there 
 in great numbers, and had recently been 
 frightened away. That night they encamped 
 with the greatest care ; and threw up a strong 
 breastwork for their protection. 
 
 For the two succeeding days they pressed 
 forward rapidly, but cautiously, across the 
 great plain ; fording the tributary streams of 
 the Horn River ; encamping one night among 
 thickets ; the next, on an island ; meeting, 
 repeatedly, with traces of Indians ; and now 
 and then, in passing through a defile, experi- 
 encing alarms that induced them to cock their 
 rifles. 
 
 On the last day of their march hunger got 
 the better of their caution, and they shot a fine 
 buffalo bull at the risk of being betrayed by 
 the report. The}' did not halt to make a meal, 
 but carried the meat on with them to the place 
 of rendezvous, the Medicine Lodge, where they 
 arrived safely, in the evening, and celebrated 
 their arrival by a hearty supper. 
 
 The next morning they erected a strong pen 
 for the horses, and a fortress of logs for them- 
 selves ; and continued to observe the greatest 
 caution. Their cooking was all done at mid- 
 day when the fire makes no glare, and a 
 moderate smoke cannot be perceived at any 
 great distance. In the morning and evening, 
 
 ^:: 
 
 
 
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 b 
 
 
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 Brrtval ot Betacbmenta 
 
 263 j*'),. 
 
 when the wind is hilled, the smoke rises per- 
 pendicnlarly in a blue column, or floats in 
 light clouds above the tree-tops, and can be 
 discovered from afar. 
 
 In this way the little party remained for 
 several daj's, cautiously encamped, initil, on 
 the 29th August, the two detacliments they 
 had been expecting, arrived together at the 
 rendezvous. They, as usual, had their several 
 tales of adventures to relate to the captain, 
 which we will furnish to the reader in the next 
 chapter. 
 
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 iii! '^'Ml 
 
 Cbaptet ipw. 
 
 Adventures of the Party of Tor. — Tlie Balaaniite Mule 
 — A Dead Point — The ^l^sterious Ivlks — A Nij^ht 
 Attack — A Retreat — Tr.'uelH'Js under an Ahirin — 
 A Joyful Meeting — Advontures of the Other Tarty — 
 A Decoy Klk — Retreat to an Island — A vSavage 
 Dance of Triumjih — Arrival at Wind River. 
 
 THlC adventures of the detachtnent of ten 
 are tlu- first in order. These trappers, 
 when they separated from Captain 
 Bonneville at the place wh'..e the furs were 
 embarked, proceeded co tivs foot of the Big- 
 horn Motmtain, and havliig eno-i.njped, one of 
 them motinted his male nnd went out to set 
 his trap in a neighboring stream. He had not 
 proceeded far when his steel ciire to a full 
 stop. The trapper kicked and cudgelled, but 
 to every blow and kick the mule snorted and 
 kicked up, but still refused to budge an inch. 
 The rider now cast his eyes warily around in 
 .search of .some cause for this demur, when, to 
 his di.smay, he di.scovered an Indian fort within 
 
 Vii 
 
 
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 £^ 
 
 ♦wi 
 
 
 Cbe Wrapper's "Report 
 
 gunshot distance, lowering through the twi- 
 light. It', a twinkling he wheeled about; his 
 mule now seemed as eager to get on as himself, 
 and in a few moments brought him, clattering 
 with his traps, among his comrades. He was 
 jeered at for his alacrity in retreating ; his re- 
 port was treated as a false alarm ; his brother 
 trappers contented themselves with recoinioi- 
 tring the fort at a distance, and pronounced 
 that it was deserted. As night .set in, the 
 usual precaution, enjoined by Captain Bon- 
 neville on his men, was ob.served. The 
 horses were brought in and tied, and a guard 
 stationed over them. This done, the men 
 wrapped themselves in their blankets, stretched 
 themselves i)efore the fire, and being fatigued 
 with a long day's march, and gorged with a 
 hearty supper, were soon in a profound .sleep. 
 Tlie camp fires gradually died away ; all 
 was dark and silent ; the sentinel stationed to 
 watch the horses had marched as far, and 
 supped as heartily as any of his companions, 
 and while they snored, he began to nod at his 
 po.st. After a time, a low trampling noise 
 reached his ear . He half opened his eyes, and 
 beheld two or three elks moving about the 
 lodges, picking, and smelling, and grazing 
 here and there. The sight of elk within the 
 purlieus of the camp caused some little sur- 
 
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 ii^X^S 
 
 II 
 
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i>;ypj^r^*«iw»p» 
 
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 266 
 
 :6onncv>lUe'0 B^ventured 
 
 6^ 
 
 m 
 
 £\ 
 
 k^ 
 
 rt 
 
 prise ; but, having had his supper, he cared 
 not for elk meat, and, suffering them to graze 
 about unmolested, soon relapsed into a doze. 
 
 Suddenly, before daybreak, a discharge of 
 fire-arms, and a struggle and tramp of horses, 
 made every one to start to his feet. The first 
 move was to secure the horses. Some were 
 gone ; others were struggling, and kicking, 
 and trembling, for there was a horrible uproar 
 of whoops, and yells, and fire-arms. Several 
 trappers stole quietly from the camp, and suc- 
 ceeded in driving in the horses whicli had 
 broken away ; the rest were tethered still more 
 strongly. A breastwork was thrown up of sad- 
 dles, baggage, and camp furniture, and all 
 hands waited anxiously for daylight. The 
 Indians, in the meantime, collected on a neigh- 
 boring height, kept up the most horrible 
 clamor, in hopes of striking a panic into the 
 camp, or frightening off the horses. When 
 the day dawned, the trappers attacked them 
 Ijriskl}' and drove them to some distance. A 
 desultory faring was kept up for an hour, 
 when the Indians, seeing nothing was to be 
 gained, gave up the contest and retired. They 
 proved to be a war party of Blackfeet, who, 
 while in search cf the Crow tribe, had fallen 
 upon the trail of Captain Bonneville on the 
 Popo Agie, and dogged him to the Bighorn ; 
 
 
 V 
 
I ; 
 
 K 
 
 < *i 
 
 a 
 
 Cbange of "Route 
 
 267 
 
 but liad been completely baffled by his vigi- 
 lance. They had then waylaid the present 
 detachment, and were actually housed in per- 
 fect silence within their fort, when the mule of 
 the trapper made such a dead point. 
 
 The savages went off uttering the wildest 
 denunciations of hostility, mingled with op- 
 probrious terms in broken English, and ges- 
 ticulations of the most insulting kind. 
 
 In this melee, one white man was wounded, 
 and two horses were killed. On preparing the 
 morning's meal, however, a luimber of cups, 
 knives, and other articles were missing, which 
 had, doubtless, been carried off by the fictitious 
 elk, during the slumber of the very sagacious 
 sentinel. 
 
 As the Indians had gone off in the direction 
 which the trappers had intended to travel, the 
 latter changed their route, and pushed forward 
 rapidly through the "Bad Pass," nor halted 
 until night ; when, supposing themselves out 
 of the reach of the enemy, they contented 
 themselves with tying up their horses and 
 posting a guard. They had scarce laid down 
 to sleep, when a dog straj-ed into the camp with 
 a small pack of moccasins tied upon his back ; 
 for dogs are made to carry burdens among the 
 Indians. The sen^'nel, more knowing than he 
 of the precediijg^ night, avvokj&,his companion 
 
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 asonncviUc'a BOventurcs 
 
 and reported the circumstance. It was evident 
 that Indians were at hand. All were instantly 
 at work ; a strong pen was :;oon coni-tructed 
 for the horses, after completing which, they 
 resumed their slumbers with the ooraposure of 
 men long inured to danger. 
 
 In the next n'ght, the prowling of dogs 
 about the camp, aii'l various suspicious noi.ses, 
 showed that Indians were still hovering about 
 them. Hurrying on by long marches, they at 
 length fell upon a trail, which, with the expe- 
 rienced eye of a veteran woodman, they soon 
 discovered to be tiiat of the party of trappers 
 detached by Captain Bonneville when on his 
 march, and which they were sent to join. 
 They likewise ascertained from various signs, 
 that this party had suffered some maltreatment 
 from the Indians. They now pursued the trail 
 with intense anxiety ; it carried them to the 
 banks of the stream called the Gray Bull, and 
 down along its course, until they came to where 
 it empties into the Horn River. Here, to their 
 great joy, they di.scovered the comrades of whom 
 they were in search, all strongly fortified, and 
 in a .state of great watchfulness and anxiet\'. 
 
 We now take up the adventures of this fir.st 
 detachment of trappers. These men, after part- 
 ing with the main body under Captain Bonne- 
 ville, had proceeded slowly for several days up 
 
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 the course of the river, trapping beaver as they 
 went. One morning, as they were about to 
 visit their traps, one of the camp-keepers 
 pointed to a fir.e elk, grazing at a d stance, and 
 requested them to shoot it. Three of the trap- 
 pers started off for the purpose. In passing 
 the thicket, they were fired upon by some sav- 
 ages in ambush, and at the same time, the 
 pretended elk, throwing off his hide and horn, 
 started forth an Indian warrior. 
 
 One of the three trappers, had been brought 
 down by the volley ; the others fled to the camp, 
 and all hands, seizing up whatever they could 
 carry off, retreated to a small island in the river, 
 and took refuge among the willows. Here they 
 were soon joined by theircomnulewhohad fallen, 
 jut who had merely been wounded in the neck. 
 
 In the meantime, the Itidians took pos.session 
 of the deserted camp, with all the traps, ac- 
 coutrements, and horses. While they \.ere 
 busy among the spoils, a .solitary trapper, who 
 had been ab.sent at his work, came sauntering 
 to the camp with his traps on his back. He 
 had approached near by, when an Indian came 
 forward and motioned him to keep awaj* ; at 
 the same moment, he was perceived by his 
 comrades on the island, and warned of his dan- 
 ger with loud cries. The poor fellow stood for 
 a moment, bewildered and aghast, then drop- 
 
 
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 270 jSonneviUe's aDventured 
 
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 ping 
 
 his traps, wheeled and made off at full 
 speed, quickened by a sportive volley which 
 the Indians rattled after him. 
 
 In high good humor with their easy triumph, 
 the savages now formed a circle round the fire 
 and performed a war dance, with the unlucky 
 trappers for rueful spectators. This done, em- 
 boldened by what they considered cowardice on 
 the part of the white men, they neglected their 
 usual mode of bush-fighting, and advanced 
 openly within twenty paces of the willows, A 
 sharp volley from the trappers brought them to a 
 sudden halt, and laid three of them breathless. 
 The chief, who had stationed himself on an emi- 
 nence to direct all the movements of his jjeople, 
 seeing three of his warriors laid low, ordered the 
 rest to retire. They immediately did so, and the 
 whole band .soon disappeared behind a point 
 of woods, carrying off with them the horses, 
 traps, and tlie greater part of the baggage. 
 
 It wasjust after this misfortune, that the party 
 of ten men discovered this forlorn band of trap- 
 pers in a fortress, which they had thrown up 
 after their disaster. They were so perfectly 
 dismayed, that they could not be induced even 
 to go in que.st of their traps, which they had 
 .set in a neighboring .stream. The two parties 
 now joined their forces, and made their way, 
 without further misfortune, to the rendezvous. 
 

 Brcival at KninO IRivct 
 
 Captain Bonneville perceived from the reports 
 of these parties, as well as from what he had 
 observed himself in his recent march, that he 
 was in a neighborhood teeming with danger. 
 Two wandering Snake Indians, also, who 
 visited the camp, assured him that there were 
 two large bands of Crows marching rapidly 
 upon him. He broke up his encampment, 
 therefore, on the ist of September, made his 
 way to the south, across the Littlehorn Moun- 
 tain, until he reached Wind River, and then 
 turning westward, moved slowly up the banks 
 of that .stream, giving time for his men to trap 
 as he proceeded. As it was not in the plan of 
 the present hunting campaign to go near the 
 caches on Green River, and as the trappers were 
 in want of traps to replace those they had lost. 
 Captain Bonneville undertook to vi.sit the 
 caches, and procure a supply. To accompany 
 him in this hazardous expedition, which would 
 take him through the defiles of the Wind River 
 Mountains, and up the Green River Valley, he 
 took but three men ; the main party were to 
 continue on trapping up towards the head of 
 Wind River, near which he was to rejoin them, 
 just about the place where that stream issues 
 from the mountains. We shall accompany the 
 captain on his adventurous errand. 
 
 S=ssS^^^ 
 
 
 
'W, 
 
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 i ' "!■ I ' 
 
 
 CFjapter i*|*lt). 
 
 Captain Bonneville Sets Out for Green River Valley — 
 Journey up the Popo Af{ie — Buffaloes — The Staring 
 White Bears— The Smoke— The Warm Springs— At- 
 tempt to Traverse the Wind River Mountains — The 
 Great Slope— Mountain Dells and Chasms — Crystal 
 Lakes — Ascent of a Snowy Peak — Sublime Prospect 
 — A Panorama — " Les Dignes de Pitie," or Wild 
 Men of the Mountaius. 
 
 HAVIXG forded Wind River a little above 
 its mouth, Captain Botnieville and his 
 three companions proceeded across a 
 gravelly plain, until they fell upon the Popo 
 Agie, up the left bank of which they held their 
 course, nearly in a southerly direction. Here 
 they came upon numerous droves of buffalo, 
 and halted for the purpose of procuring a 
 supply of beef. As the hunters were stealing 
 cautiruslj' to get within shot of the game, two 
 small white bears suddenly presented them- 
 selves in their path, and, rising upon their hind 
 legs, contemplated them for some time, with a 
 
 272 
 
I ' 
 
 nf 
 
 whimsically solemn gaze. The hunters re- 
 mained motionless ; whereupon the bears, hav- 
 ing apparentl}' satisfied their curiosity, lowered 
 themselves upon all fours, and began to with- 
 draw. The hunters now advanced, upon which 
 the bears turned, rose again upon their 
 haunches, and repeated their serio-comic ex- 
 amination. This was repeated several times, 
 until the hunters, piqued at their unmannerly 
 staring, rebuked it with a discharge of their 
 rifles. The bears made an awkward bound or 
 two, as if wounded, and then walked off with 
 great gravity, seeming to commune together, 
 and every now and then turning to take another 
 look at the hunters. It was well tor the latter 
 that the bears were but half grown, and had 
 not yet acquired the ferocity of their kind. 
 
 The buffalo were .somewhat startled at the 
 report of the fire-arms ; but the hunters suc- 
 ceeded in killing a couple of fine cows, and, 
 having secured the best of the meat, continued 
 forward until some time after dark, when, en- 
 camping in a large thicket of willows, they 
 made a great fire, roasted buffalo beef enough 
 for half a. score, dispo.sed of the whole of it with 
 keen relish and high glee, and then "turned 
 in " for the night and slept soundlj', like weary 
 and well-fed hunters. 
 
 At daylight they were in the saddle again, 
 
 VOL. I.— 18 
 
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 874 
 
 ' '^^KSj \si><i^ <ii^ kiii<.- 
 
 JBonneptllc'0 BOventured 
 
 and skirted along the river, passing through 
 fresh grassy meadows, and a succession of 
 beautiful groves of willows and cotton-wood. 
 Towards evening. Captain Bonneville observed 
 a smoke at a distance rising from among hills, 
 directly in the route he was pursuing. Appre- 
 hensive of .some hostile band, he concealed the 
 horses in a thicket, and, accompanied by one 
 of his men, crawled cautiously up a height, 
 from which he could overlook the scene of dan- 
 ger. Here, with a spy-gla.ss, he reconnt)itred 
 the surrounding countr}-, but not a l^^'ge nor 
 fire, not a man, horse, nor dog was to be dis- 
 covered ; in short, the smoke which had caused 
 such alarm proved to be the vapor from .several 
 warm, or rather hot springs of considerable 
 magnitude, pouring forth streams in every 
 direction over a bottom of white clay. One 
 of the springs was about twenty-five yards in 
 diameter, an so deep that the water was of a 
 bright green color. 
 
 They were now advancing diagonally upon 
 the chain of Wind River Mountains, which lay 
 between them and Green River \'alley. To 
 coast round th-iir .southern points would be a 
 wide circuit ; whereas, could they force their 
 way through them, they might proceed in a 
 straight line. The mountains were lofty, with 
 snowy peaks and cragged sides ; it was hoped. 
 
 V 
 
w_> 
 
 Zbe Ovcat Slope 275 
 
 however, that some practicable defile might be 
 found. They attempted, accordingly, to pene- 
 trate the mountains by following up one of the 
 branches of the Popo Agie, but soon found 
 themselves in the midst of stupendous crags 
 and precipices that barred all progress. Re- 
 tracing their steps, and falling back upon the 
 river, they consulted where to make another 
 attempt. They were too close 1)eneath the 
 mountains to scan them generallj-, but they 
 now recollected having noticed, from the plain, 
 a beautiful slope, rising, at an angle of about 
 thirty degrees, and apparently without any 
 break, until it reached the snowj- region. 
 Seeking this gentle acclivity, thej' began to 
 ascend it with alacrity, trusting to find at the 
 top one of those elevated plains which prevail 
 among the Rocky Mountains. The slope was 
 covered with coarse gravel, interspersed with 
 plates of freestone. They attained the summit 
 with some toil, but found, instead of a level, 
 or rather undulating plain, that they were 
 on the brink of a deep and precipitous ravine, 
 from the bottom of which rose a .second slope, 
 similar to the one they had just ascended. 
 Down into this profound ravine they made 
 their way by a rugged path, or rather fissure 
 of the rocks, and then labored up the second 
 slope. They gained the summit only to find 
 
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 JBonnevtllc'd Bdventures 
 
 themselves on another ravine, and now per- 
 ceived that this vast mountain, which had 
 presented such a sloping and even side to the 
 distant beholder on the plain, was shagged by 
 frightful precipices, and seamed with longitu- 
 dinal chasms, deep and dangerous. 
 
 In one of these wild dells they passed the 
 night, and slept soundly and sweetly after 
 their fatigues. Two days more of arduous 
 climbing and scrambling only served to ad- 
 mit them into the heart of this mountainous 
 and awful solitude, where difficulties increased 
 as they proceeded. Sometimes they scrambled 
 from rock to rock, up the bed of some moun- 
 tain stream, dashing its bright way down to 
 the plains ; sometimes thej' availed themselves 
 of the paths made by the deer and the moun- 
 tain sheep, which, however, often took them 
 to the brink of fearful precipices, or led to 
 rugged defiles, impassable for their horses. 
 At one place, they were obliged to slide their 
 horses down the face of a rock, in which at- 
 tempt some of the poor animals lost their foot- 
 ing, rolled to the bottom, and came near being 
 dashed to pieces. 
 
 In the afternoon of the second day, the trav- 
 ellers attained one of the elevated valleys l(x?ked 
 up in this singular bed of mountains. Here 
 were two bright and beautiful little lakes, set 
 
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 e, 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 \\f 
 
XH'V 
 
 Bdccnt o( a Snows Pcaft 
 
 377 
 
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 like mirrors in the midst of stern and rocky 
 heights, and surroiuided by grassy meadows, 
 inexpressibly refreshing to the eye. These 
 probably were among the sources of those 
 mighty streams which take their rise among 
 these mountains, and wander hundreds of miles 
 through the plains. 
 
 In the green pastures bordering upon these 
 lakes, the travellers halted to repose, and to 
 give their weary horses time to crop the sweet 
 and tender herbage. They had now ascended 
 to a jjreat height above the level of the plains, 
 yet they beheld huge crags of granite piled 
 one upon another, and l)eetling like battlements 
 far above them. While two of the men re- 
 mained in the camp with the horses, Captain 
 Bonneville, accompanied by the other men, set 
 out to climb a neighboring height, hoping to 
 gain a commanding prospect, and discern some 
 practicable route through this .stupendous laby- 
 rinth. After much toil, he reached the summit 
 of a lofty cliff, but it was only to behold gigan- 
 tic peaks rising all around, and towering fir 
 into the snowy regions of the atmosphere. Se- 
 lecting one which appeared to be the highest, 
 he crossed a narrow intervening valley, and 
 began to .scale it. He .soon found that he had 
 undertaken a tremendous task ; but the pride 
 of man is never more obstinate than when 
 
 
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 climbing mountains. The ascent was so steep 
 and rugged that he and his companions were 
 frequently obliged to clamber on hands and 
 knees, with their guns slung upon their backs. 
 Frequently, exhausted witli fatigue, and drip- 
 ping with perspiration, they threw themselves 
 upon the snow, and took handfuls of it to al- 
 lay their parching thirst. At one place, they 
 even stripped off their coats and hung them 
 upon the bushes, and thus lightly clad, pro- 
 ceeded to scramble over tliese eternal snows. 
 As they ascended still higher, there were cool 
 breezes that refreshed and braced them, and 
 springing with new ardor to their task, they 
 at length attained the summit. 
 
 Here a scene burst upon tlie view of Captain 
 Bonneville, that for a time astonished and over- 
 vt'helmed him with its immensity. He .stood, in 
 fact, upon that dividing ridge wliicli Indians re- 
 gard as the crest of the world ; and on each side 
 of wliich, the landscape may be said to decline 
 to the two cardinal oceans of the globe. 
 Whichever way he turned his eye, it was con- 
 founded by the vastness and variety of oiyects. 
 Beneath him, the Rocky Mountains seemed to 
 open all their secret recesses : deep, .solemn 
 valleys ; treasured lakes ; dreary passes ; rug- 
 ged defiles, and foaming torrents ; while beyond 
 their savage precincts, the eye was lost in an 
 
 
Sublime iprospcct 279 
 
 almost immeasurable landscape ; stretching on 
 every side into dim and hazy distance, like 
 the expanse of a summer's sea. Whichever 
 way hi looked, he beheld vast plains glinnner- 
 ing with reflected sunshine ; mighty streams 
 wandering on their shining course toward 
 either ocean, and snowy mcmntains, chain be- 
 yond chain, and peak beyond peak, till thej' 
 melted like clouds into the horizon. For a 
 time, the Indian iuble seemed realized : he had 
 attained that height from which the Blackfoot 
 warrior after death, first catches a view of the 
 land of souls, and beholds the happy hunting 
 grounds spread out below him, brightening 
 with the aljodes of the free and generous 
 spirits. The captain stood for a long while 
 gazing upon this scene, lo.st in a crowd of vague 
 and indefinite ideas and sensations. A long- 
 drawn inspiration at length relieved him from 
 this enthrallment of the mind, and he began 
 to analyz»_ the parts of this vast panorama. A 
 simple enumeration of a few of its features, 
 may give some idea of its collective grandeur 
 and magnificence. 
 
 The peak on wliich the captain had taken 
 his .stand, connnanded the whole Wind River 
 chain ; which, in fact, may rather be consid- 
 ered one immen.se mountain, broken into 
 snowy peaks and lateral spurs, and .seamed 
 
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 with narrow valleys. Some of these valleys 
 glittered with silver lakes and gushing streams ; 
 the fountain head, as it were, of the mighty 
 tributaries to the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. 
 Beyond the snowj' peaks, to the south, and far, 
 far below the mountain range, the gentle river, 
 called the Sweet Water, was seen pursuing its 
 tranquil way through the rugged regions of the 
 Black Hills. In the east, the head-waters of 
 Wind River wandered through a plain, until, 
 mingling in one powerful current, they forced 
 their way through the range of Horn Moun- 
 tains, and were lost to view. To the north, were 
 caught glimpses of the upper streams of the 
 Yellowstone, that great tributary of the Mis- 
 souri. In another direction were to be .seen some 
 of the sources of the Oregon, or Columbia, 
 flowing to the northwest, past those towering 
 landmarks the three Tetons, and pouring down 
 into the great lava plain ; while, almost at 
 the captain's feet, the Green River, or Colorado 
 of the West, set forth on its wandering pilgrim- 
 age to the Gulf cf California ; at fir.st a mere 
 mountain torrent, da.shing northward over crag 
 and precipice, in a succession of cascades, and 
 tumbling into the plain, where, expanding into 
 an ample river, it circled away to the south, 
 and after alternately .shining out and di.sappear- 
 ing in the mazes of the vast landscape, was 
 
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 AW) 
 
 finally lost in a horizon of mountains. The day 
 was calm and cloudless, and the atmosphere so 
 pure that objects were discernible at an aston- 
 ishing distance. The whole of this immense 
 area was inclosed by an outer range of shadowy 
 peaks, some of them faintly marked on the 
 horizon, which seemed to wall it in from the 
 rest of the earth. 
 
 It is to be regretted that Captain Bonneville 
 had no instruments with him with which to 
 ascertain the altitude of this peak. He gives 
 it as his opinion, that it is the loftiest point of 
 the North American continent ; but of this we 
 have no .satisfactory proof. It is certain that 
 the Rocky Mountains are of an altitude vastly 
 superior to what was frrmerh' supposed. We 
 rather incline to the opinion that the highest 
 peak is further to the northward, and is the 
 same measured by Mr. Thompson, sur\eyor 
 to the Northwest Company ; who, by the joint 
 means of the barometer and trigonometric 
 measurement, a.scertaincd it to be twenty-five 
 thousand feet above the level of the sea ; an 
 elevation only inferior to that of the Hima- 
 layas.* 
 
 For a long time, Captain Bonneville remained 
 gazing around him with wonder and enthusi- 
 
 * See the letter of Professor Renwick, in the ap- 
 pendix to Astoria. 
 
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 282 
 
 :fBonncvillc'd BDvcnturcd 
 
 asm ; at length the chill and wintry winds, 
 whirling about the snow-clad height, admon- 
 ished him to descend. He soon regained the 
 spot where he and his companions had thrown 
 off their coats, which were now gladly resumed, 
 and, retracing their course down the peak, 
 they safely rejoined their companions on the 
 border of the lake. 
 
 Notwithstanding the savage and almost in- 
 accessible nature of these mountains, they have 
 their inhabitants. As one of the party was 
 out hunting, he came upon the solitary track 
 of a man, in a lonely valley. Following it up, 
 he reached the brow of a cliff, whence he be- 
 held three savages running across the valley 
 below him. He fired his gun to call their at- 
 tention, hopii:^ to induce tiiem to turn back. 
 They only fled the faster, and disappeared 
 among the rocks. The hunter returned and 
 reported what he had seen. Captain Bonne- 
 ville at once concluded tliat the.se belonged to 
 a kind of hermit race, scanty in tuunber, that 
 inhabit the highest and most inaccessible fast- 
 nesses. They speak the Shoshonie language, 
 and probabl}- are offsets from that tribe, 
 though they have ptculiarities of their own, 
 which distinguish them from all other Indians. 
 They are miserably poor ; own no horses, and 
 are destitute of every convenience to be de- 
 
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 Ibcrmit Undiane 
 
 283 
 
 rived from an intercourse will; the whites. 
 Their weapons are bows and stone-pointed 
 arrows, with which they hunt the deer, the 
 elk, and the mountain sheep. They are to be 
 found scattered aboat the countries of the 
 Shoshonie, Flathead, Crow, and Blackfeet 
 tribes ; but their residences are always in 
 lonely places, and the clefts of the rocks. 
 
 Their footsteps are often .seen by the trap- 
 pers in the high and .solitary valleys among 
 the mountains, and the smokes of their fires 
 descried among the precipices, but they them- 
 .selves are rarely met with and still more rarely 
 brought to a parley, so great is their .shyness, 
 and their dread of .strangers. 
 
 As their peverty offers no temptation to the 
 marauder, and as they are inoffensive in their 
 habits, they are never tlie objects of warfare : 
 should one of them, however, fall into the 
 hands t)f a war party, he is sure to be made a 
 .sacrifice, for the sake of that savage trophy, a 
 .scalp, and that barbarous ceremony, a scalp 
 dance. Tho.se forlorn beings, forming a mere 
 link between human nature and the brute, 
 have been looked down upon with pity and con- 
 tempt by the Creole trappers, who have gix'en 
 them the appellation oUfsdii^nt'sde pitit\ or " the 
 objects of pity." They appear more worthy to 
 be called the wild men of the mountains. 
 
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 II 
 
 Cbapter ff OT . 
 
 A Retrograde Move — Channel of a Mountain Torrent 
 — Alpine Scenery — Cascades — Beaver Valleys — Bea- 
 ▼crs at Work — Their Architecture — Their Modes of 
 Felling Trees— Mode of Trapping Beaver — Contests 
 of Skill— A Beaver "Up to Trap"— Arrival at the 
 Green River Caches. 
 
 THK view from the snowy peak of the 
 Wind River Mountain, while it had 
 excited Captain Bonneville's enthtisi- 
 asm, had satisfied him that it would be use- 
 less to force a passage westward, through 
 multiplying barriers of cliffs and precipices. 
 Turning his face eastward, therefore, he endea- 
 vored to regain the plains, intending to make the 
 circuit round the southern point of the moun- 
 tain. To descend, and to extricate himself 
 from the heart of this rock-piled wilderness, 
 was almost as difficult as to penetrate it. Tak- 
 ing his course down the ravine of a tumbling 
 stream, the commencement of some future 
 
 284 
 
alpine Scenecs 
 
 river, he descended from rock to rock, and shelf 
 to shelf, between stupendous cliffs and beetling 
 crags, that sprang up to the sky. Often he 
 had to cross and recross the rushing torrent, 
 as it wound foaming and roaring down its 
 broken channel, or was walled by perpendicular 
 precipices • and imminent was the hazard of 
 breaking the legs of the horses in the clefts 
 and fissures of slippery rocks. The whole 
 scenery of this deep ravine was of Alpine 
 wildness and sublimity. Sometimes the trav- 
 ellers passed beneath cascades which pitched 
 from such lofty heights, that the water fell 
 into the stream like heavj' rain. In other 
 places, torrents came tumbling from crag to 
 crag, dashing into foam and spray, and mak- 
 ing tremendous din and uproar. 
 
 On the second day of their descent, the 
 travellers, having got beyond the steepest pitch 
 of the mountains, came to where the deep and 
 rugged ravine began occasionally to expand 
 into small levels or valleys, and the stream to 
 assume for short intervals a more peaceful 
 character. Here, not merely the river itself, 
 but every rivulet flowing into it, was dammed 
 up by conununities of industrious beavers, so 
 as to inundate the neighborhood, and make 
 continual swamps. 
 
 During a midday halt in one of these beaver 
 
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 286 
 
 IBonncville'B Bdvcntures 
 
 valleys, Captain Bonneville left his companions, 
 and strolled down the course of the stream to 
 reconnoitre. He had not proceeded far, when 
 he came to a beaver pond, and caught a glimpse 
 of one of its painstaking ivihabi.ants busily 
 at work upon the da' • The curiosity of the 
 captain was aroused. /-el .'1 the mode of 
 operating of this fa. iined architect; he 
 moved forward, therefore, wit;; ae utmost 
 cautitni. parting the branches of the water 
 willows without making any noise, until hav- 
 ing attained a position commanding a view of 
 the whole pond, he stretched himself flat on 
 the ground, and watched the solitary workman. 
 In a little while, three others appeared at the 
 head of the dam, bringing sticks and bushes. 
 With these they proceeded directly to the bar- 
 rier, which Captain Bonneville perceived was 
 in need of repair. Having deposited their 
 loads upon the broken part, they dived into 
 the water, and shorth- reappeared at the sur- 
 face. Kach now bnmght a (juantity of mud, 
 with which he would plaster tlie sticks and 
 bushes just deposited. This kind of masonry 
 was continued for some time, repeated supplies 
 of wood and mud being brought, and treated 
 in the same manner. This done, the indus- 
 trious beavers indulged in a little recreation, 
 chasing each other about the pond, dodging 
 
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 987 
 
 and whisking about on the surface, or diving 
 to the bottom ; r.»id in their frohc, often slap- 
 ping their tails on the water with a loud clack- 
 ing sound. While they were thus amusing 
 themselves, another of the fraternity made his 
 appearance, and looked gravely on their sports 
 for some time, without offering to join in them. 
 He then climbed the bank close to where the 
 captain was concealed, and, rearing himself on 
 his hind-quarters, in a sitting position, put his 
 fore-paws against a young pine-tree, and 
 began to cut the bark with his teeth. At 
 times he would tear off" a small piece, and 
 holding it between his paws, and retaining his 
 sedentarj- position, would feed himself with it, 
 after the fashion of a monkey. The object of 
 the beaver, however, was evidently to cut 
 down the tree ; and he was proceeding with 
 his work, when he was alarmed by the ap- 
 proach of Captain Bonneville's men, who, feel- 
 ing anxious at the protracted absence of their 
 leader, were coming in search of him. At the 
 sound of their voices, all the beavers, busj' as 
 well as idle, dived at once beneath the surface, 
 and were no more to be seen. Captain Bonne- 
 ville regretted this interruption. He had heard 
 much of the sagacity of the beaver in cutting 
 down trees, in which, it is said, they manage 
 to make them fall into the water, and in such 
 
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 BonnefiUe's BOvcnturcs 
 
 a position and direction as may be most favor- 
 able for conveyance to the desired point. In 
 the present instance, the tree was a tall straight 
 pine, and as it grew perpendicularly, and there 
 was not a breath of air stirring, the beaver 
 could have felled it in any direction he pleased, 
 if really capable of exercising a discretion in 
 the matter. He was evidently engaged in 
 "belting" the tree, and his first incision had 
 been on the side nearest to the water. 
 
 Captain Bonneville, however, discredits, on 
 the whole, the alleged sagacity of the beaver 
 in this particular, and thinks the animal has 
 no other aim than to get the tree down, with- 
 out any of the subtle calculation as to its mode 
 or directions of falling. This attribute, he 
 thinks, has been ascribed to them from the 
 circumstance, that most trees growing near 
 water-courses, either lean bodily towards the 
 stream, or stretch their largest limbs in that 
 direction, to benefit by the space, the light, 
 and the air to be found there. The beaver, 
 of course, attacks those trees which are nearest 
 at hand, and on the banks of the stream or 
 pond. He makes incisions round them, or, in 
 technical phrase, belts them with his teeth, 
 and when they fall, they naturally take the 
 direction in which their trunks or branches 
 preponderate. 
 
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 Sa^acits of tbc JBeavcr 
 
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 "I have often," says Captain Botnieville, £^ 
 "seen trees measuring eighteen inches in (Ham- 
 eter, at the places where they had been cut 
 through by the beaver, but they lay in all 
 directions, and often very inconveniently for 
 the after purposes of the animal. In fact, so 
 little ingenuity do they at times display in this 
 particular, that at one of our camps on Snake 
 River, a beaver was found with his head 
 wedged into the cut which he had made, the 
 tree having fallen upon him and held him i)ris- 
 oner until he died." 
 
 Great choice, according to the captain, is 
 certainly displayed by the beaver in selecting 
 the wood which is to furnish bark for winter 
 provision. The whole beav;r household, old 
 and young, set out ujion t!.is busir.ess, and 
 will often make long journey:; before they are 
 suited. Sometimes they cut down trees of the 
 largest size and then cull t!iJ branches, the 
 bark of which is most to their taste. These 
 they cut into lengths of about three feet, con- 
 vey them to the water, and float them to their 
 lodges, where they are :;tored away for winter. 
 They are studious of cleatdiness and comfort 
 in their lodges, and after their repasts, will 
 carry out the .sticks from which thej- have 
 eaten the bark, and throw them into the cur- 
 rent beyond the barrier. They are jealous, 
 
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 2(/j JBonncville'd BDvcnturcd 
 
 too, of their territories, and extremely pugna- 
 cious, never permitting a strange beaver to 
 enter their premises, and often fighting with 
 such virulence as almost to tear each other to 
 pieces. In the spring, which is the breeding 
 season, the male leaves the female at home, 
 and sets off on a tour of pleasure, rambling 
 often to a great distance, recreating himself 
 in every clear and quiet expanse of water cm 
 his way, and climbing the banks occasionally 
 to feast upon the tender sprouts of the young 
 willow^. As sunnner advances, he gives up 
 his bachelor rambles, and bethinking himself 
 of housekeeping duties, returns home to his 
 mate and his new progeny, and marshals them 
 all for the foraging expedition in quest of 
 winter prov-isions. 
 
 After having shown the public spirit of this 
 praiseworthy little animal as a member of a 
 community, and his amiable and exemplary 
 conduct as the father of a family, we grieve 
 to record the perils with which he is environed, 
 and the snares set for him and his painstaking 
 household. 
 
 Practice, says Captain Bonneville, has given 
 such a quickness of eye to the experienced trap- 
 per in all that relates to his pursuit, that he 
 can detect the slightest sign of beaver, however 
 wild ; and although the lodge may be con- 
 
 ■-^ 
 
 /■! 
 
Ito^e of CTrapptiig Xeavet 
 
 cealed by close thickets and overhanging wil- 
 lows, he can generally, at a single glance, 
 make an accurate guess at the number of its 
 inmates. He now goes to work to set his 
 trap ; planting it upon the shore, in some 
 chosen place, two or three inches below the 
 surface of the water, and secures it by a chain 
 to a pole set deep in the mud. A small twig 
 is then stripped of its bark, and one end is 
 dipped in the "medicine," as the trappers 
 term the peculiar bait which they employ. 
 This end of the stick rises about four inches 
 above the surface of the water, the other end 
 is planted between the jaws of the trap. The 
 beaver, possessing an acute sense of smell, is 
 soon attracted by the odor of the bait. As he 
 raises his nose towards it. his foot is caught 
 in the trap. In his fright he throws a somer- 
 set into the deep water. The trap, being fa.s- 
 tetied to the pole, resists all his efforts to drag 
 it to the .shore ; tiie chain by which it is fas- 
 tened defies his teeth ; he struggles for a time, 
 and at length vsinks to the bottom and is 
 drowned. 
 
 Upon rocky bottoms, where it is not possi- 
 ble to plant the pole, it is thrown into the 
 stream. The beaver, when entrapped, often 
 gets fastened by the chain to sunken logs or 
 floating timber ; if he gets to shore, he is en- 
 
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 tangled in the thickets of brook willows. In 
 such cases, however, it costs the trapper dili- 
 gent search, and sometimes a bout at swim- 
 ming, before he finds his game. 
 
 Occasionally it hajipens that several mem- 
 bers of a beaver family are trapped in succes- 
 sion. The survivors then become extremely 
 shy, and can scarcely be " b ••ought to medi- 
 cine," to use the trapper's phrase for " taking 
 the bait." In such case, the trapper gives up 
 the use of the bait, and conceals his traps in 
 the usual paths and crossing-places of the 
 household. The beaver now being completely 
 "up to trap," approaches them cautiously. 
 End springs them ingeniously with a stick. 
 At other times, he turns the traps bottom 
 iipwards, by the .same means, and occasionally 
 even drags them to the barrier and conceals 
 them in the mid. The trapper, now gives up 
 the contest of ingenuity, and shouldering his 
 traps, marches off, admitting that he is not 
 yet " up to beaver," 
 
 On the day following Captain IJonneville's 
 supervision of the industrious and frolicsome 
 community of beavers, of which he has given 
 .so edifying an account, he succeeded in ex- 
 tricating himself from the Wind River Moun- 
 tains, and regaining the plain to the ea.stward, 
 made a great bend to the south, so as to go 
 
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 mt 
 
 I 
 
 round the bases of the mountains, and arrived 
 without further incident of importance, at the 
 old place of rendezvous in Green River Valley, 
 on the 17th of September. 
 
 He found tlie rar/irs, in whicli lie had de- 
 posited his superfluous goods and equipments, 
 all safe, and having opened and taken from 
 them the necessary supplies, he closed them 
 again ; taking care to obliterate all traces that 
 might betray them to the keen eyes of InditJi 
 marauders. 
 
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 III 
 
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 £y\) Chapter JiDHIT. 
 
 Route Towards Wind River — Dangerous Neighbor- 
 hood — Alanus and Precautions — A Sham Encamp- 
 nient — Apparition of an Indian Spy — Midnight 
 Move -A Mountain Defile— The Wind River Valley 
 — Tracking a Tarty — Deserted Camps — Symptoms 
 of Crows — Meeting of Comrades — A Trapper En- 
 trapped — Crow Pleasantry — Crow Spies — A De- 
 campment — Return to dreen River Valley — Meet- 
 ing with Fitzpatrick's Parly — Their Adventures 
 among the Crows — Orthodox Crows. 
 
 OX the iStli of vSeptember, Captain Bonne- 
 ville and his three companions set out, 
 ])right and early, to rejoin the main 
 party from which they had parted on Wind 
 River. Their route lay up the Green River 
 Valley, with that stream on their ri.nht hand, 
 and beyond it, the range of Wind River Moun- 
 tains. At tlie head of the valley, they were to 
 o^^4> P''^^ through a defde which would bring them 
 out beyond the northern end of these mountains, 
 
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 Blarms and precautions 
 
 to the head of Wind River ; where they ex- 
 pected to meet the main party, according to 
 arrangement. 
 
 We have already adverted to the dangerous 
 nature of this neighborhood, infested by roving 
 bands of Crows and Blackfeet ; to whom the 
 numerous defiles and passes of the country 
 aflford capital places for anilnish and surprise. 
 The travellers, therefore, kept a vigilant eye 
 upon everything that might give intimation of 
 lurking danger. 
 
 About two hours after midday, as they 
 reached the summit of a hill, they discovered 
 buffalo on the plain below, running in every 
 direction. One of the men, too, fancied he 
 heard the report of a gun. It was concluded, 
 therefore, that there was some party of Indians 
 below, hunting buflfalo. 
 
 Tue horses were immediately concealed in a 
 riarrow ravine ; and the captain, mounting an 
 eminence, but concealing himself from view, 
 reconnoitred the whole neighborhood with a 
 telescope. Not an Indian was to be seen ; so, 
 after hailing about an h')ur, he resumed Ills 
 journey. Convinced, however, tliat lie was in 
 a dangerous neighl)orhoo<i he advanced with 
 the utmost caution ; windiug his way througli 
 hollows and ravines, and avoiding, as much as 
 possible, any open tract, or rising gnnnid, that 
 
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 JBonnevillc'e SOventuced 
 
 might betray his little party to the watchful 
 eye of an Indian scout. 
 
 Arriving, at length, at the edge of the open 
 meadow-land bordering on the river, he again 
 ol)served the buffalo, as far as he could see, 
 scampering in great alarm. Once more con- 
 cealing tile horses, he and his companions re- 
 mained for a long time watching the various 
 groups of the animals, as each caught the panic 
 and started ofT; but they sought in vain to dis- 
 cover the cause. 
 
 They were now about to enter the mountain 
 defile, at the head of Green River Valley, where 
 they might be waylaid and attacked ; they, 
 therefore, arranged the packs on their horses, 
 in the manner most secure and convenient for 
 sudden flight, sliould such be necessary. This 
 done, tliej- again .set forward, keeping the most 
 anxious lookout in every direction. 
 
 It was now drawing towards evening ; l)ut 
 they could not think of encamping for the night, 
 in a place .so full of danger. Captain Bonneville, 
 therefore, determined to halt about si'uset. 
 kindle a fire, as if for encampment, to cook ■<,):■.: 
 eat supper ; but, as soon as it was sufllcient*; 
 dark, to make a rapid move for the summit of 
 the mountain, and seek .some .secluded .spot 
 for tluir night's lodgings. 
 
 Accordingly, as the sun went down, the little 
 
 
 
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 ^} 
 
 B Sbam £ncampment 
 
 r>:. 
 
 297 
 
 party came to a halt, made a large fire, spitted 
 their buffalo meat on wooden sticks, and, when 
 sufficiently roasted, planted the savory viands 
 before them ; cutting off huge slices with their 
 hunting knivcb, and supping with a hunter's 
 appetite. The light of their fire would not 
 fail, as they knew, to attract the attention of 
 any Indian horde in the neighborhood ; but 
 they trusted to be off aiul away, before any 
 prowlers could reach the place. While they 
 were supping thus hastih-, however, one of 
 their party suddenly started up, and shouted 
 " Indians ! " All were instantly on their feet, 
 with their rifles in their hands ; but could see 
 no enemy. The man, however, declared that 
 he had seen an Indian advancing, cautiously', 
 along the trail which they had made in coming 
 to the encampment ; who, the moment he was 
 perceived, had thrown himself on tlie ground, 
 and disappeared. He urged Captain Bonneville 
 instantly to decamp. The captain, however, 
 took the matter more coolly. The single fact, 
 that the Indian had endeavored to hide him- 
 self, convinced him that he was not one of a 
 party, on the advance to make an attack. He 
 was, probably, some scout, who had followed 
 up their trail, until he came in sight of their 
 fire. He would, in such case, return, and re- 
 port what he had seen to his companions. 
 
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 298 
 
 JBonneville'8 BDve; turcg 
 
 t 
 
 These, supposing the white men had encamped 
 for the night, would keep aloof until very late, 
 when all should be asleep. They would then, 
 according to Indian tactics, make their stealthy 
 approaches, and place themselves in ambush 
 \ around, preparatory to their attack, at the 
 usual hour of daylight. 
 
 Such was Captain Bonneville's conclusion ; 
 in consequence of which, he counselled his 
 men to keen perfectly quiet, and act as if free 
 from all alarm, until the proper time arrived 
 for a move. They, accordingly, continued their 
 repast witli pretendeil appetite and jollity ; and 
 then trimmed and replenished their fire, as if 
 for a bivouac. As soon, however, as the night 
 had completely set in, they left their fire blaz- 
 ing ; walked quietly among the willows, and 
 then leaping into their saddles, made off as 
 noiselessly as possible. In pruportion as they 
 left the point of danger Ijehiiid them, they re- 
 laxed in tlieir rigid and ri'ixious taciturnity, 
 and began to joke at the expense of their 
 enemy ; whom they pictured to themselves 
 mousing in tli'.- neigliborhood (n their deserted 
 fire, waiting for the proper time of attack, and 
 preparing for a grand disappointment. 
 
 About midnight, feeling satisfied that they 
 QIjl Jiad gained a secur.: distance, they po.'^ted one 
 of their number \.o keep watch, in case the 
 
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 <3(t> ind tbe InDians tbe Slip 
 
 299 
 
 enemy should follow on the trail, and then, 
 turning abruptly into a dense and matted 
 thicket of willows, halted for the night at the 
 foot of the mountain, instead of r..aking for 
 the sununit, as they had originally intended. 
 
 A trapper in the wilderness, like a sailor on 
 the ocean, snatches morsels of enjoyment in 
 the midst of trouble, and sleeps soundly when 
 surrounded by danger. The little party now 
 made their arrangements for sleep with perfect 
 calmness ; they did not venture to make a fire 
 and cook, it is true, though generally done by 
 hunters whenever they come to a halt, and 
 have provisions. They comforted themselves, 
 however, by smoking a tranquil pipe ; and 
 then calling in the watch, and turning loo.se 
 the horses, .stretched themselves on their pal- 
 lets, agreed that whoever should first awake, 
 should rouse the rest, and in a little while 
 were all in as .sound sleep as though in the 
 midst of a fortress. 
 
 A little before day, they were all on the 
 alert ; it was the hour for Indmn maraud. A 
 .sentinel was immediately detached, to po,st 
 himself at a little distance on their trail, and 
 give the alarm, should he see or hear an 
 enemy. 
 
 With the first l)link of dawn, the rest .sought 
 the horses; brought them to J.he camp, and 
 
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 JBotincvillc'd Bdvcnturcs 
 
 tied them up, iini^il an hour after sunrise ; 
 when, the sentinel having reported that all was 
 well, they sprang once more into their saddles, 
 and pursued the most covert and secret paths 
 up the mountain, avoiding the direct route. 
 
 At noon, they halted and made a hasty re- 
 past ; and then bent their course so as to regain 
 the route from which they had diverged. They 
 were now made sensible of the danger from 
 which they had just escaped. There were 
 tracks of Indians who had evidently been in 
 pursuit of them ; but had recently returned, 
 baffled in their search. 
 
 Trusting that they had now got a fair start, 
 and could not be overtaken before night, even 
 in case the Indians should renew the cha.se, 
 they pushed briskly forward, and did not en- 
 camp until late ; when they cautiou.sly con- 
 cealed theuLselves in a .secure nook of the 
 mountains. 
 
 Without any further alarm, they made their 
 way to the head-waters of Wind River, and 
 reached the i-cighborhood in which they had 
 appointed the rendezvous with their compan- 
 ions. It was within the precincts of the Crow 
 country : the Wind River Valley being one of 
 the favorite haunts of that restless tribe. After 
 much searching, Captain Bonneville came upon 
 a trail which had evidently been made by his 
 
 In- 
 
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 K.^' 
 
 anjietB of tbc Captain 
 
 301 
 
 main party. It was so old, however, that he 
 feared his people might have left the neighbor- 
 hood ; driven off, perhaps, by some of those war 
 parties which were on the prowl. He continued 
 his search with great anxiety, and no little fa- 
 tigue ; for his horses were jaded, and almost 
 crippled, by their forced marches and scram- 
 blings through rocky defiles. 
 
 On tlie following day, about noon, Captain 
 Bonneville came upon a deserted camp of his 
 people, from which they had, evidently, turned 
 back ; but he could find no signs to indicate 
 whj' they had done so ; whether they had met 
 with misfortune, or molestation, or in what 
 direction they had gone. lie was now, more 
 than ever, perplexed. 
 
 On the following day, he resumed his march 
 with increasing anxiety. The feet of his 
 horses had by this time l)ecome so worn and 
 wounded by the rocks, ihat he had to make 
 moccasins for them of buffalo hide. About 
 noon, he came to another deserted camp of 
 his men ; but soon after lost their trail. After 
 great search, he once more found it, turning in 
 a southerly direction along the eastern basis of 
 the Wind River Mountains, which towered to 
 the right. He n<jw pushed forward *vith all 
 possible speed, in hopes of overtaking the 
 party. At night, he slept at another of the 
 
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 JSonncville'e Bdventuree 
 
 camps, from which they had but recently de- 
 parted. When the day dawned sufficiently to 
 distinguish objects, he perceived the danger 
 that must be dogging the heels of his main 
 party. All about the camp were traces of In- 
 dians, who must have been prowling about it 
 at the time his people had passed the night 
 there ; and who must .still be hovering about 
 tliem. Convinced, now, that the main party 
 could not be at any great distance, he mounted 
 a .scout on the best horse, and set him forward 
 to overtake them, to warn them of their dan- 
 ger, and to order them to halt, mitil he .should 
 rejoin them. 
 
 In the afternoon, to his great joy, he met the 
 .scout returning, with six comrades from the 
 main party, leading fresh horses for his accom- 
 modation ; and on the following day (Septem- 
 ber 25th), all hands were once more reunited, 
 after a .separation of nearly three weeks. Their 
 meeting was hearty and joyous ; for they had 
 both experienced dangers and perplexities. 
 
 The main party, in pursuing their course up 
 the Wind River Valley, had been dogged the 
 whole way bj' a war party of Crows. In one 
 place, they had been fired upon, but without 
 injur}- ; in another place, one of their horses 
 hail been cut loose, and carried olT. At length, 
 they were so closely beset, that they were 
 
 
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 303 
 
 ITbe Crappcr £ntrappeO 
 
 obliged to make a retrograde move, lest they 
 should be surprised and overcome. This was 
 *'•'; movement which had caused such perplex- 
 u,, 'o Captain Bonneville. 
 
 The whole party now remained encamped 
 for two or three days, to give repose to both 
 men and horses. Some of the trappers, how- 
 ever, pursued their vocations about the neigh- 
 boring streams. While one of them was setting 
 his traps, he heard the tramp of horses, and 
 looking up, beheld a party of Crow braves 
 moving along at no great distance, with a con- 
 siderable cavalcade. The trapper hastened to 
 conceal himself, but was discerned by the quick 
 eye of the .savages. With whoops and yells, 
 they dragged him from his hiding-place, flour- 
 ished over his head their tomahawks and 
 scalping-knives, and for a time, the poor trap- 
 per gave himself up for lost. Fortunately, the 
 Crows were in a jocose, rather than a .sanguin- 
 ary mood. They amused them.selves heartily, 
 for a while, at the expense of his terrors ; and 
 after having played off divers Crow pranks and 
 pleasantries, suffered him to depart unharmed. 
 It is true, they stripped him completely, one 
 taking his horse, another his gun, a third his 
 traps, a fourth his blanket, and so on, through 
 all his accoutrements, and even his clothing, 
 until he was stark naked : but then they gen- 
 
 
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 ^IBonneville's Bdventurcs 
 
 erously made him a present of an old tattered 
 buffalo robe, and dismissed him, with many 
 complimentary speeches, and much laughter. 
 When the trapper returned to the camp, in 
 such sorry plight, he was greeted with peals 
 of laughter from his comrades, and seemed 
 more mortified by the style in which he had 
 been dismissed, than rejoiced at escaping with 
 his life. A circumstance which he related to 
 Captain Bonneville, gave some insight into the 
 cause of this extreme jocularity on the part of 
 the Crows. They had evidently had a run of 
 luck, and, like winning gamblers, were in 
 high good humor. Among twenty-six fine 
 horses, and some mules, which composed their 
 cavalcade, the trapper recognized a number 
 which had belonged to Fitzpatrick's brigade, 
 when they parted company on the Bighorn. 
 It was supposed, therefore, that these vaga- 
 bonds had been on his trail, and robbed him of 
 part of his cavalry. 
 
 On the day following this affair, three Crows 
 came into Captain Bonneville's camp, with the 
 most easy, innocent, if not impudent air imag- 
 inable ; walking about with that imperturbable 
 coolness and u'v..' ncern, in which the Indian ri- 
 vals the fine geiicieman. As they had not been 
 of the set which stripped the trapper, though 
 evidently of the same band, they were not 
 
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 Zbxcc Crow 6ue0td 
 
 molested. Indeed, Captain Bonneville treated 
 them with his usual kindness and hospitality ; 
 permitting them to remain all day in the camp 
 and even to pass the night there. At the 
 same time, however, he caused a strict watch 
 to be maintained on all their movements ; and 
 at night, stationed an armed sentinel near 
 them. The Crows remonstrated against the 
 latter being armed. This only made the cap- 
 tain suspect them to be spies, who meditated 
 treachery ; he redoubled, therefore, his pre- 
 cautions. At the same time, he assured his 
 guests, that while they were perfectly welcome 
 to the shelter and comfort of his camp, yet, 
 should any of their tribe venture to approach 
 during the night, they would certainly be shot ; 
 which would be a very unfortunate circum- 
 stance, and much to be deplored. To the lat- 
 ter remark, they fully assented ; and shortly 
 afterward commenced a wild song, or chant, 
 which they kept up for :i long time, and in 
 which, they very probably gave their friends, 
 who might be prowling around the camp, 
 notice that the white men were on the alert. 
 The night passed away without disturbance. 
 In the morning the three Crow guests were 
 very pressing that Captain Bonneville and his 
 party should accompany them to their camp, 
 said was close by. Instead of 
 
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 JSonneville's BDventures 
 
 accepting their invitation, Captain Bonneville 
 took his departure with all possible dispatch, 
 eager to be out of the vicinity of such a pirati- 
 cal horde ; nor did he relax the diligence of 
 his march, until, on the second day, he reached 
 the banks of the Sweet Water, beyond the 
 limits of the Crow country, and a heavy fall of 
 snow had obliterated all traces of his course. 
 
 He now continued on for some few daj-s, at 
 a slower pace, round the point of the mountain 
 towards Green River, and arrived once more at 
 the caches, on the 14th of October. 
 
 Here they found traces of the band of Indians 
 who had hunted them in the defile towards the 
 head-waters of the Wind River. Having lost 
 all trace of them on their way over the moun- 
 tains, they had turned and followed back their 
 trail down Green River Valley to the caches. 
 One of these they had discovered and broken 
 open, but it fortunatelj^ contained nothing but 
 fragments of old iron, which they had scattered 
 about in all directions, and then departed. In 
 examining their deserted camp, Captain Bon- 
 neville discovered that it numbered thirty-nine 
 fires and had more reason than ever to congrat- 
 ulate himself on having escaped the clutches 
 of such a formidable band of freebooters. 
 
 He now turned his course southward, under 
 cover of the mountains, and on the 25th of 
 
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 Crail of a parti? ot Crows 
 
 October reached Liberge's Ford, a tributary of 
 the Colorado, where he came suddenly upon 
 the trail of this same war party, which had 
 crossed the stream so recently, that the banks 
 ,^3 were yet wet with the water that had been 
 splashed upon them. To judge from their 
 tracks, they could not be less than three hun- 
 dred warriors, and apparently of the Crow 
 nation. 
 
 Captain Bonneville was extremely uneasy 
 lest this overpowering force should come upon 
 him in some place where he would not have 
 the means of fortifying himself promptly. He 
 now moved towards Hane's Fork, another 
 tributary of the Colorado, where he encamped, 
 ar i remained during the 26th of October. See- 
 ing a large cloud of smoke to the south, he 
 supposed it to arise from some encampment 
 of Shoshonies, and sent scouts to procure in- 
 formation and to purchase a lodge. It was, in 
 fact, a band of Shoshonies, but with them were 
 encamped Fitzpatrick and his ''•ty of trap- 
 pers. That active leader had an eventful story 
 to relate of his fortunes in the country of the 
 Crows. After parting with Captain Bonneville 
 on the banks of the Bighorn, he made for the 
 west, to trap upon Powder and Tongue rivers. 
 He had between twenty and thirty men with 
 him, and about one hundred horses. So large 
 
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 :iSonnc\'iUe'd Bdventures 
 
 a cavalcade could not pass through the Crow 
 country without attracting the attention of its 
 freebooting hordes. A large band of Crows 
 were soon on their traces, and came up with 
 them on the 5th of September, just as they had 
 reached Tongue River. The Crow chief came 
 forward with great appearance of friendship, 
 ar ' proposed to Fitzpatrick that they should 
 encamp together. The latter, however, not 
 having any faith in the Crows, declined the 
 invitation, and pitched his camp three miles 
 off. He then rode over, with two or three 
 men, to visit the Crow chief, by whom he was 
 received with great apparent cordiality. In 
 the meantime, however, a party of young 
 braves, who considered themselves absolved 
 by his distrust from all scruples of honor, made 
 a circuit privately, and dashed into h'.s en- 
 campment. Captain Stewart, who had re- 
 mained there in the absence of Fitzpatrick, 
 behaved with great spirit ; but the Crows 
 were too numerous and active. They had got 
 possession of the camp, and soon made booty 
 of everything — canying off all the horses. On 
 their way back they met Fitzpatrick returning 
 to his camp ; and finished their exploit by 
 rifling and nearly stripping him. 
 
 A negotiation now took place between the 
 plundered white men and the triumphant 
 
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 jpitspatrick aiiD tbe Crows 
 
 309 
 
 Crows ; what eloquence and management Fitz- 
 patrick made use of, we do not know ; but he 
 succeeded in prevailing upon the Crow chief- 
 tain to return him his horses and many of his 
 traps ; together with his rifles and a few rounds 
 of ammunition for each man. He then set out 
 with all speed to abandon the Crow country, 
 before he should meet with any fresh disasters. 
 After his departure, the consciences of some 
 of the most orthodox Crows pricked them sorely 
 for having suffered such a cavalcade to escape 
 out of their hands. Anxious to wipe off so 
 foul a stigma on the reputation of the Crow 
 nation, they followed on his trail, nor quit 
 hovering about him on his m-..ch until they 
 had stolen a number of his best horses and 
 mules. It was, doubtless, this same band 
 which came upon the lonely trapper on the 
 Popo Agie, and generously gave him an old 
 buffalo robe in exchange for his rifle, his traps, 
 and all his accoutrements. With these anec- 
 dotes, we shall, for the present, take our leave 
 of the Crow counlry and its vagabond chivalry. 
 
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 Cbaptec fSIDin. 
 
 A Region of Natural Curiosities — The Plain of White 
 Clay — Hot Springs — The Beer Spring — Departure 
 to Seek the Free Trappers— Plaiu of Portneuf — 
 Lava — Chasms and Gullies — Banneck Indians — 
 Their Hunt of the BufiFalo— Hunters' Feast- 
 Trencher Heroes — Bullying of an Absent Foe — The 
 Damp Comrade — The Indian Spy — Meeting with 
 Hodgkiss — His Adventures — Poordevil Indians- 
 Triumph of the Bannecks — Blackfeet Policy in 
 War. 
 
 CROSSING an elevated ridge, Captain 
 Bonneville now came upon Bear River, 
 which, from its source to its entrance 
 into the Great Salt Lake, describes the figure 
 of a horseshoe. One of the principal head- 
 waters of this river, although supposed to 
 abound with beaver, has never been visited 
 by the trapper ; rising among rugged moun- 
 tains, and being barricaded by fallen pine- 
 trees and tremendous precipices. 
 
 Proceeding down this river, the party en- 
 
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 The Arlcmesia. 
 
 F'om oriKiiitil p/wtograp'. h\- p,-ymi<sh'ii of 77ir Photo 
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 Zbc Xittle lahe 
 
 camped, on the 6th of November, at the outlet 
 of a lake about thirty miles long, and from two 
 to three miles in width, completely imbedded 
 in low ranges of mountains, and cotmected 
 with Beer River by an impassable swamp. It 
 is called the Little Lake, to distinguish it from 
 the great one of salt water. 
 
 On the loth of November, Captain Bonne- 
 ville visited a place in the neighborhood which 
 is quite a region of natural curiosities. An 
 area of about half a mile square presents a 
 level surface of white clay or fuller's earth, 
 perfectly spotless, resembling a great slab of 
 Parian marble, or a sheet of dazzling snow. 
 The effect is strikingly beautiful at all times ; 
 in summer, when it is surrounded with verd- 
 ure, or in autumn, when it contrasts its bright 
 immaculate surface with the withered herbage. 
 Seen from a distant eminence, it then shines 
 like a mirror, set in the brown landscape. 
 Around this plain are clustered numerous 
 springs of various sizes and temperatures. 
 One of them, of scalding heat, boils furiously 
 and incessantly, rising tc the height of two or 
 three feet. In another place, there is an aper- 
 ture in the earth, from which rushes a column 
 of steam that forms a perpetual cloud. The 
 ground for some distance around sounds hol- 
 low, and startles the solitary trapper, as he 
 
 
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 hears the tramp of his horse giving the sound 
 of a muffled drum. He pictures to himself a 
 mysterious gulf belov/, a place of hidden fires, 
 and gazes round him with awe and uneasiness. 
 
 The most noted curiosity, however, of this 
 singular region, is the Beer Springs of which 
 trappers give wonderful accounts. They are 
 said to turn aside from their route through the 
 country to drink of its waters, with as much 
 eagerness as the Arab seeks some famous well 
 of the desert. Captain Bonneville describes it 
 as having the taste of beer. His men drank it 
 with avidity, and in copious draughts. It did 
 not appear to him to possess any medicinal 
 properties, or to produce any peculiar effects. 
 The Indians, however, refuse to taste it, and 
 endeavor to persuade the white men from 
 doing so. 
 
 We have heard this also called the Soda 
 Spring, and described as containing iron and 
 sulphur. It probably possesses some of the 
 properties of the Ballston water. 
 
 The time had now arrived for Captain Bon- 
 neville to go in quest of the party of free trap- 
 pers detached in the beginning of July, under 
 the command of Mr. Hodgkiss, to trap upon 
 the head-waters of Salmon River. His inten- 
 tion was to unite them with the party witli 
 which he was at present travelling, that all 
 
 
might go into quarters together for the winter. 
 'V.-^ Accordingly, on the nth of November, he 
 took a temporary leave of his band, appointing 
 a rendezvous on Snake River, and, accom- 
 panied by three men, set out upon his journey. 
 His route lay across the plain of the Portneuf, 
 a tributary stream of Snake River, called after 
 an unfortunate Canadian trapper, murdered 
 by the Indians. The whole country through 
 which he passed, bore evidence of volcanic 
 convulsions and conflagration in the olden 
 time. Great masses of lava lay scattered about 
 „ t in every direction ; the crags and cliffs had 
 ^f\ apparently been under the action of fire ; the 
 rocks in some places seemed to have been in 
 a state of fusion ; the plain was rent and split 
 with deep chasms and gullies, some of which 
 were partly filled with lava. 
 
 They had not proceeded far, however, before 
 they saw a party of horsemen galloping full tilt 
 towards them. They instantly turned, and 
 made full speed for the covert of a woody 
 ''■^ stream, to fortify themselves among the trees. 
 The Indians came to a halt, and one of them 
 came forward alone. He reached Captain 
 Bonneville and his men just as they were dis- 
 mounting and about to post themselves. A 
 few words dispelled all uneasiness. It was a 
 party of twenty-five Banneck Indians, friendly 
 
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 314 
 
 jSonneviKe's Bdvcnturce 
 
 -;X 
 
 to the whites, and they proposed, through their 
 envoy, that both parties should encamp together, 
 and hunt the buffalo, of which they had discov- 
 ered several large herds hard by. Captain Bon- 
 neville cheerfully assented to their proposition, 
 being curious to see their manner of hunting. 
 
 Both parties accordingly encamped together 
 on a convenient spot, and prepared for the 
 hunt. The Indians first posted a boy on a 
 small hill near the camp, to keep a look out 
 for enemies. The "runners" then, as they 
 are called, mounted on fleet horses, and armed 
 with bows and arrows, moved slowly and 
 cautiously towards the buffalo, keeping as 
 much as possible out of sight, in hollows and 
 ravines. When within a proper distance, a 
 signal was given, and they all opened at once 
 like a pack of hounds, with a full choru ^f 
 yells, dashinginto the middle of the herds, and 
 launching their arrows to the right and left. 
 The plain seemed absolutely to shake under 
 the tramp of the buffalo, as they scoured off. 
 The cows in headlong panic, the bulls furious 
 with rage, uttering deep roars, and occasionally 
 turning with a desperate rush upon their pur- 
 suers. Nothing could surpass the spirit, grace, 
 and dexterity, with which the Indians man- 
 aged their horses ; wheeling and coursing 
 among the affrighted herd, and launching their 
 
 
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 The Punch Bowl. 
 
 From orii^iiia/ photograph, hy prr mission jf 7'//<' l^holo- 
 chrom Compuny, />rlroil, Mii/iigan. 
 
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 B jiiulTalo t>unt 
 
 315 
 
 arrows with unerring aim. In ♦^he midst of 
 the apparent confusion, they selected their vic- 
 tims with perfect judgment, generally aiming 
 at the *attcst of the cows, the flesh of <^he bull 
 being nearly worthless, at this season of the 
 year. In a few minutes, each of the hunters 
 had crippled three or four cows. A single 
 shot was sufficient for the purpose, and the 
 animal, once maimed, was left to be completely 
 dispatched at the end of the chase. Frequently, 
 a cow was killed on the spot by a single arrow. 
 In one instance. Captain Bonneville saw an In- 
 dian shoot his arrow completely through the 
 body of a cow, so that it struck in the ground 
 beyond. The bulls, however, are not so easily 
 killed as the cows, and always cost the hunter 
 several arrows, someti;. ^ s making battle upon 
 the horses, and chasing them furiously, though 
 severely wounded, with the darts still sticking 
 in their flesh. 
 
 The grand scamper of the hunt being over, 
 the Indians proceeded to diiipatch the animals 
 that had been disabled ; then cutting up the 
 carcas.ses, they returned with loads of meat to 
 the camp, where the choicest pieces were soon 
 roasting before large fires, and a hunter's feast 
 succeeded : at which Captain Bonneville and 
 his m-^n were qualified, by previous fasting, to 
 perform their parts with great vigor. 
 
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 ^Bonneville's BOventuces 
 
 Some men are said to wax valorous upon a 
 full stomach, and such seemed to be the case 
 with the Banneck braves, who, in proportion 
 as they crammed themselves with buffalo meat, 
 grew stout of heart, until, the supper at an 
 end, they began to chant war songs, setting 
 forth their mighty deeds, and the victories 
 they had gained over the Blackfeet. Warming 
 with the theme, and inflating themselves with 
 their own eulogies, these magnanimous heroes 
 of the trencher would start up, advance a short 
 distance beyond the light of the fire, and apos- 
 trophize most vehemently their Blackfeet ene- 
 mies, as though they had been within hearing. 
 Ruffling, and swelling, and snorting, and slap- 
 ping their breasts, and brandishing their arms, 
 they would vociferate all their exploits ; re- 
 minding the Blackfeet how they had drenched 
 their towns in tears and blood ; enumerate the 
 blows they had inflicted, the warriors they had 
 slain, the scalps they had brought off in 
 triumph. Then, having said tverything that 
 could stir a man's spleen or pique his valor, 
 they would dare their imaginary hearers, now 
 that the Bannecks were few in number, to 
 come and take their revenge — receiving no 
 reply to this valorous bravado, they would 
 conclude by all kinds of sneers and insults, 
 deriding the Blackfeet for dastards and pol- 
 
 'N^ 
 
 w 
 
r^^^>^.i 
 
 troons, that dared not accept their challenge. 
 Such is the kind of swaggering and rodomon- 
 tade in which the " red men " are prone to in- 
 dulge in their vainglorious moments ; for, with 
 all their vaunted taciturnity, they are vehe- 
 mently prone at times to become eloquent 
 about their exploits, and to so:ind their own 
 trumpet. 
 
 Having vented their valor in this lierct effer- 
 vescence, the Banneck braves gradually calmed 
 down, lowered their crests, smoothed their 
 ruffled feathers, and betook themselves to sleep, 
 without placing a single guard over their camp ; 
 so tluit, had the Blackfeet taken them at their 
 word, but few oi' these braggart heroes might 
 have survived for any further boasting. 
 
 On the following morning, Captain Bonne- 
 ville purchased a supply of buffalo meat from 
 his braggadocio friends ; who, with all their 
 vaporing, were in fact a verj' forlorn horde, 
 destitute of fire-arms, and of almost everything 
 that constitutes riches in savage life. The 
 bargain concluded, the Bannec'-= set off for 
 their village, which was situated, they said, at 
 the mouth of the Portneuf, and Captain Bonne- 
 ville and his companions shaped their course 
 towards Snake River. 
 
 Arrived on the banks of that river, he found 
 it rapid and boisterous, but not too deep to be 
 
 >1 
 
 ^: 
 
r.f^ N .1 
 
 I ' 
 
 !l1l 
 
 ,1 ,;.. 
 
 "-Si^J^S^ 
 
 .i 
 
 H 
 
 JSonncrllle'd BOrcnturcd 
 
 forded. In traversing it, however, one of the 
 horses was swept suddenly from his footing, 
 and his rider was flung from the saddle into 
 the midst of the stream. Both horse and horse- 
 man were extricated without any damage, ex- 
 cept that the latter was completely drenched, 
 so that it was necess?\ry to kindle a fire to dry 
 him. While they were thus occupied, one of 
 the party looking up, perceived an Indian scout 
 cautiously reconnoitring them irom the sum- 
 mit of a neighboring hill. The moment he 
 found himself discovered, he disappeared be- 
 hind the hill. From his furtive movements, 
 Captain Botmeville suspected him to be a scout 
 from the Blackfeetcamp, and tliat he had gone 
 to report what he had seen to his companions. 
 It would not do to loiter in such a neighbor- 
 hood, so the kindling of the fire was abandoned, 
 the drenched horseman mounted in dripping 
 condition, and the little band pushed forward 
 directly into the plain, going at a smart pace, 
 until they had gained a considerable distance 
 from the place of supposed danger. Here en- 
 camping for the night, in the midst of abun- 
 dance of sage, or wormwood, which afforded 
 fodder for their horses, they kindled a huge fire 
 for the benefit of their damp comrade, and then 
 proceeded to prepare a sumptuous supper of 
 buffalo humps and ribs, and other choice bits, 
 
 I 
 
 ' t 
 
. ,«-» « '^,<~>- 
 
 =^' 
 
 .•v_i-^-^ ■'■^ / 
 
 /*^^ ^Jr X ^ JJ'^twVi.^i; £> J3) i^ ^' \3,'Q.'«"i* i** ^ittt 
 
 Aeetiiid witb l^oDdltisd 
 
 319 
 
 which they had brought with them. After a 
 hearty repast, relished with an appetite un- 
 known to city epicures, they stretched them- 
 selves upon their couches of skins, and under 
 the starry canopy of heaven enjoyed the sound 
 and sweet sleep of hardy and well-fed moun- 
 taineers. 
 
 They continued on their journey for several 
 days, without any incident worthy of notice, 
 and on the 19th of November, came upon traces 
 of the party of which they were in search ; 
 such as burnt patches of prairie, and deserted 
 camping grounds. All these were carefully 
 examined, to discover by their iVeshness or 
 antiquity the probable time that the trappers 
 had left them ; at length, after much wander- 
 ing and investigating, they came upon a regu- 
 lar trail of the limiting party, which led into 
 the mountains, and following it up bri.skly, 
 came about two o'clock in the afternoon of the 
 20tli, upon the encampment of Hodgkiss and 
 his band of free trappers, in the bosom of a 
 mountain valley. 
 
 It will be recollected that these free trappers, 
 who were masters of tlieniselve.s and their 
 movements, had refused to accompany Captain 
 Bonneville back to Green River in the preced- 
 ing month of July, preferring to trap about the 
 upper waters of the Salmon River, wher'^.- ihey 
 
 "■,!j:'>iiiiii-i'"; 
 
 h 
 
► : 
 (' 
 
 
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 ii' 
 
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 11 
 
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 r^3S?sr 
 
 ^"^^6^ 
 
 320 
 
 JBonnevil(c'0 adventures 
 
 expected to find plenty of beaver, and a less 
 dangerous neighborhood. Their hunt had not 
 been very successful. They had penetrated the 
 great range of mountains among which some 
 of the upper branches of Salmon River take 
 their rise, but had become so entangled among 
 immense and almost impassable barricades of 
 falleji pines, and so impeded by tremendous 
 precipices, that a greater part of their season 
 had been wasted among those mountains. At 
 one time they had made their way through 
 them, and reached the Bois6e River ; but 
 meeting with a band of Banneck Indians, from 
 whom they apprehended hostilities, they had 
 again taken shelter among the mountains, 
 where they were found by Captain Bonneville. 
 In the neighborhood of their encampment, the 
 captain had the gooa fortune to meet with a 
 family of those wanderers of the mountains, 
 emphatically called h's dignes de pitie, or Poor- 
 devil Indians. These, however, appear to have 
 forfeited the title, for they had with them a 
 fine lot of skins of beaver, elk, deer, and 
 mountain sheep. These Captain Bonneville 
 purchased from them at a fair valuation, and 
 sent them off astonished at their own wealth, 
 and no doubt objects of envy to all their piti- 
 ful tribe. 
 
 Being now reinforced by Hodgkiss and his 
 
 5ssli 
 
 ," 1 
 
t\ 
 
 I his 
 
 AW 
 
 band of free trappers, Captain Bonneville put 
 himself at the head of the united parties, and 
 set out to rejoin those he had recently left at 
 the Beer Spring, that they might all go into 
 winter quarters on Snake River. On his route, 
 he encountered many heavy falls of snow, 
 which melted almost immediately, so as not to 
 impede his march, and on the 4th of Decem- 
 ber he found his other party, encamped in the 
 very place where he had partaken in the buffalo 
 hunt with the Bannecks. 
 
 The braggart horde was encamped about 
 three miles off, and were just then in high glee 
 and festivity, and more swaggering than ever, 
 celebrating a prodigious victory. It appeared 
 that a party of their Vjraves being out on a 
 hunting excursion, dicovered a band of Black- 
 feet moving, as they thought, to surprise their 
 hunting camp. The Bannecks imm ^diately 
 posted themselves on each side of a dark ra- 
 vine, through which the enemy must pass, and 
 just as they were entangled in the midst of it, 
 attacked them with great fury. The Blackfeet 
 struck with sudden panic, threw off their buf- 
 falo robes and fled, leaving one of their war- 
 riors dead on the spot. The victors eagerly 
 gathered n\) the spoils ; but their greatest prize 
 was the scalp of the Blackfoot brave. This 
 they bore off in triumph to their village, where 
 
 t-.*' 
 
 S3^5ll 
 
 > • /,v :: 
 
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 llfHMi 
 
 ^gia^,mCS"i* 
 
 :^h 
 
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 322 
 
 3!Sot!ticvUlc's BCtvcnturcs 
 
 ■'..** 
 
 H 
 
 it has ever since been an object of the greatest 
 exultation and rejoicing. It had been elevated 
 upon a pole in the center of the village, where 
 the warriors had celebrated the scalp dance 
 round it, with war feasts, war songs, and war- 
 like harangues. It had then been given up to 
 the women and boys ; who had paraded it up 
 and down the village with shouts and chants 
 and antic dances ; occasionallj- saluting it with 
 all kinds of taunts, invectives, and revilings. 
 
 The Blackfeet, in this affair, do not appear 
 to have acted up to the character which has 
 rendered them objects of such terror. Indeed, 
 their conduct in war, to the inexperienced ob- 
 server, is full of inconsistencies ; at one time 
 the}' are headlong in courage, and heedless of 
 danger ; at another time cautious almost to 
 cowardice. To understand these apparent in- 
 congruities, one must know their principles of 
 warfare, A war party, however triumphant, 
 if they lose a warrior in the fight, bring back 
 a cause of mourning to their people, which 
 casts a shade over the glory of their achieve- 
 ment. Hence, the Indian is often less fierce 
 and reckless in general battle, than he is in a 
 private brawl ; and the chiefs are checked in 
 their boldest undertakings by the fear of sac- 
 rificing their warriors. 
 
 peculiarity is not confined to the 
 
 This 
 
 ^1 
 
 K 
 
 /^?^^/i ..^(ir^-r#--^f:^. ^4?K?^ 
 
 .Tvi ii 
 
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 ^ffh 
 
 f~^'^ 
 
 police In "Uaar 
 
 w 
 
 323 ®Ce, 
 
 Blackfeet. Among the Osages, says Captain 
 Bonneville, when a warrior falls in battle, his 
 comrades, though the\- may have fought w'th 
 consummate valor, and won a glorious victorj', 
 will leave their arms upon the field of battle, 
 and returning home with dejected coimte- 
 nances, will halt without the encampment, 
 and wait until the relatives of the slain come 
 forth and invite them to mingle again with 
 their people. 
 
 
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 V, 
 
 V 
 
 ■'V 
 
 R) 
 
 l€JV 
 
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 ill 
 
 'll 
 
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 it- 
 
 
 Cbapter Ji*1[*\ 
 
 Within Camp at the Portueuf — Fine Springs — The 
 Banneck Indians — Their Honesty — Captain Bonne- 
 ville Prepares for an Expedition — Christmas — The 
 American Falls — Wild Scenery — F'ishing Falls — 
 Snake Indians — Scenery on the Bruneau — View of 
 Volcanic Country from a Mountain — Powder River 
 — Shoshokoes, or Root Diggers — Their Character 
 Habits, Habitations, Dogs — Vanity at its Last Shift. 
 
 IN esta1)li.sliinj^ his winter camp near the 
 Portneiif, Captain Bonneville had drawn 
 off to some little distance irom his Bamieck 
 friends, to avoid all annoyance from their inti- 
 macy or intrusions. In so doing, however, he 
 had been obliged to take up his quarters on 
 the extreme edge of the flat land, where he was 
 encompassed with ice and snow, and had noth- 
 ing better for his horses to subsist on than 
 wormwood. The Bannecks, on the contrary, 
 were encamped among fine springs of water, 
 wliere there was grass in abundance. Some 
 of these springs gush out of the earth in suffi- 
 cient quantity to turn a mill, and furnish beau- 
 
 ^; 
 
 
i>: 
 
 t 
 
 J 
 
 liftil streams, clear as crystal, and full of trout 
 of a large size, which may be seen darting 
 about the transparent water. 
 
 Winter now set in regularly. The snow had 
 fallen frequently, and in large quantities, and 
 covered the ground to the depth of a foot ; and 
 the continued coldness of the weather prevented 
 any thaw. 
 
 By degrees, a distrust which nt first subsisted 
 between the Indians and the trappers, subsided, 
 and gave way to mutual confidence and good- 
 will. A few presents convinced the chiefs that 
 the white men were their friends ; nor were 
 the white men wanting in proofs of the honesty 
 and good faith of their savage neighbors. Oc- 
 casionally, the deep snow and the want of fod- 
 der obliged them to turn their weakest hordes 
 out to roajn in quest of sustenance. If they at 
 any time strayed to the camp of the Bannecks, 
 they were innnediately brought back. It must 
 be confessed, however, that if the .stray horse 
 happened, by any chance, to be in vigorous 
 plight and good condition, though he was 
 equally sure to be returned by the honest Ban- 
 necks, yet it was always after the lapse of .sev- 
 eral days, and in a very gaunt and jaded state ; 
 and always with the remark, that they had 
 found him a long way off. The uncharitable 
 were apt to surmise that he had, in the in- 
 
 tlK^'V" «; 
 
 I 
 
 '•MMI 
 
 h 
 
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 i! 
 
 ■"■ 4 
 
 ^?^^r^n=^ 
 
 JSonncville'd BDvcnture:3 
 
 terim, been well used up in a buffalo hunt ; 
 but those accustomed to Indian morality in 
 the matter of horse-flesh, considered it a sin- 
 gular evidence of honesty, that he .should be 
 brought back at all. 
 
 Being convinced, therefore, from the.se and 
 other circumstances, that h:., people were en- 
 camped in tlic neighborhood of a tribe as hon- 
 est as they were valiant, and satisfied that they 
 would pass their winter unmolested, Captain 
 Bonneville prepared for a reconnoitring expe- 
 dition of great e.xtent and peril. This was to 
 penetrate to the Hudson's Bay establishments 
 on the banks of the Columbia, and to make 
 himself acquainted with the country and the 
 Indian tribes ; it being one part of his scheme 
 to establish a trading post somewhere on the 
 lower part of the river, .so as to participate in 
 the trade lost to the United States by the cap- 
 ture of Astoria. This expedition would, of 
 course, take him through the Snake River 
 country, and across the Blue Mountains, the 
 scenes of so much hardship and disaster to 
 Hunt and Crooks, and their Astorian bands, 
 who first explored it, and he would have to 
 pass through it in the .same frigntful season, 
 the depth of the winter. 
 
 The idta of risk and hardship, however, 
 only served to stimulate the adventurous spirit 
 
 ^O^j'J^ 
 
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 B perilous JEspeDition 
 
 of the captain. He chose three companions 
 for liis journey, put up a small stock of neces- 
 saries in the most portable form, and selected 
 five horses and mules for themselves and their 
 baggage. He proposed to rejoin his band in 
 the early part of March, at the winter encamp- 
 ment near the Portneuf. All these arrange- 
 ments being completed, he mounted his horse 
 on Christmas morning, and .set off with his 
 three comrades. They halted a little beyond 
 the Banneck camp, and made their Chri.stmas 
 dinner, which, if not a verj- merry, was a very 
 hearty one, after which they resumed their 
 journey. 
 
 They were obliged to travel .slowly, to spare 
 their horses, for the .snow had increa.sed in 
 depth to eighteen inches ; and though some- 
 what packed and frozen, was not sufficiently 
 so to yield firm footing. Their route lay to 
 the west, down along the left side of Snake 
 River, and they were several days in reaching 
 the first, or American Falls. The banks of 
 the river, for a considerable distance, both 
 above and below the falls, have a volcanic 
 character ; masses of basaltic rock are piled 
 one upon another ; the water makes its way 
 through their broken chasms, boiling through 
 narrow chamiels, or pitching in beautiful cas- 
 cades over ridges of basaltic columns. 
 
 c.(«*<>, .--"t?^ (fT 
 
 <?^>^.- 
 
 '<^\ 
 
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 ^<^ 
 
 ""— ^Vi.--"^"' '^ 
 
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1^ 
 
 l)y 
 
 1 
 
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 \^^ 
 
 JBonncvtnc'fl ^^rcnture8 
 
 Beyond these falls, they came to a pictur- 
 esque but inconsiderable stream, called the 
 Cassie. It runs through a level valley, about 
 four miles wide, where the soil is good ; but 
 the prevalent coldness and dryness of the climate 
 is unfavorable to vegetation. Near to this 
 stream there is a small mountain of mica slate, 
 including garnets. Granite, in small blocks, 
 is likewise seen in this neighborhood, and 
 white sandstone. From this river, the travel- 
 lers had a prospect of the snowy heights of the 
 Salmon River Mountains to the north ; the 
 nearest, at least fifty miles distant. 
 
 In pursuing his course westward, Captain 
 Boiuieville generally kept several miles from 
 Snake River, crossing the headsof itstributarj'- 
 streams ; though he often found the open 
 country so encumbered by volcanic rocks as to 
 render travelling extremely difficult. When- 
 ever he approached Snake River, he found it 
 running through a broad chasm, with steep, 
 perpendicular sides of basaltic rock. After 
 several days' travel across a level plain, he 
 came to a part of the river which filled him 
 with astonishment and admiration. As far as 
 the eye could reach, the river was walled iti by 
 perpendicular cliffs two hundred and fifty feet 
 high, beetling like dark and gloomy battle- 
 ments, while blocks and fragments lay in 
 
 
 :s/. 
 
 ; I 
 
" After Several Days' Travel he Came 
 to a Part of the River which Filled 
 him with Astonishment aiul Adnii- 
 rat ion." 
 
 From a di awini^ hy I lem Y Savdham. 
 
 
I 
 
 '/ 
 
I 
 
If 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 ?• 
 
 1i III ! 
 
 I 
 

 fc 
 
 masses at their feet, in the midst of the boiling 
 and whirHng current. Just above, the whole 
 stream pitched in one cascade above forty feet 
 in height, with a thundering sound, casting up 
 a volume of spray that hung in the air like a sil- 
 ver mist. These are called by .some the Fishing 
 Falls, as the salmon are taken here in immense 
 quantities. They cannot get by these falls. 
 
 After encamping at this place all night, 
 Captain Bonneville, at sunrise, descended with 
 his party through a narrow ravine, or rather 
 crevice, in the vast wall of basaltic rock which 
 bordered the river ; this being the only mode, 
 for nianj;^ miles, of getting to the margin of the 
 stream. 
 
 The snow lay in a thin crust along the banks 
 of the river, .so that their travelling was much 
 more easy than it had been hitherto. There 
 were foot-tracks, also, made by the natives, 
 which greatly facilitated their progress. Oc- 
 casionally, they met the inhabitants of this 
 wild region ; a timid race, and but scantily 
 provided with the necessaries of life. Their 
 dress consisted of a mantle about four feet 
 square, formed of strips of rabbit skins sewed 
 together : this they hung over their shoulders, 
 in the ordinary Indian mode of wearing a blan- 
 ket. Their weapons were bows and arrows ; 
 the latter tipped with obsidian, which abounds 
 
 i- •-■:. 
 
*> 
 
 >fl' 
 
 m 
 
 f 1 1 11 
 
 -..ii 
 
 
 3BonncvUle'd BDventurcd 
 
 in the neighborhood. Their huts were shaped 
 like haystacks, and constructed of branches of 
 willow covered with long grass, so as to be 
 warm and comfortable. Occasionally they 
 were surnnnuled by small inclosures of worm- 
 wood, about three feet high, which gave them 
 a cottage-like appearance. Three or four of 
 these tenaments were occasionally grouped to- 
 gether in some wild and striking situation, and 
 had a picturesque effect. Sometimes they were 
 in sufficient number to form a small hamlet. 
 From these people. Captain Bonneville's party 
 frequently purchased salmon, dried in an ad- 
 mirable manner, as were likewise the roes. 
 This seemed to be their prime article of food ; 
 but they were extremely anxious to get buffalo 
 meat in exchange. 
 
 The high walls and rocks, within which the 
 travellers had been so long inclosed, now occa- 
 sionally presented openings, through which 
 they were enabled to ascend to the plain, and 
 to cut off considerable bends of the river. 
 
 Throughout the whole extent of this vast 
 and .singular chasm, the .scenerj' of the river is 
 said to be of the most wild and romajitic char- 
 acter. The rocks present every variety of 
 masses and grouping. Numerous small streams 
 come rushing and boiling through narrow clefts 
 and ravines : one of a considerable size issued 
 
 {& 
 
 ^tiV 
 
 ^ 
 
A,. . - 
 
 it 
 
 Scencrv? of tbc JBruneau 
 
 331 
 
 from the face of a precipice, within twenty-five 
 feet of its snnimit ; and after runninj^ in nearly 
 a horizontal line for about one hundred feet, 
 fell, by numerous small cascades, to the rocky 
 bank of the river. 
 
 In its career throujjh this vast and singular 
 defile, Snake River is upwards of three hundred 
 yards wide, and as clear as spring water. 
 Sometimes it steals along with a tranquil and 
 noiseless course ; at other times, for miles and 
 miles, it dashes on in a thousand rapids, wild 
 and beautiful to the ej'e, and lulling the ear 
 with the soft tumult of plashing waters. 
 
 Many of the tributary .streams of Snake River 
 rival it in the wilderness and ])icture.squeness 
 of their scenery. Tliat called the Bruneau is 
 particularly cited. It runs through a tre- 
 mendous chasm, rather than a vallej', extend- 
 ing upwards of a hundred and fifty miles. You 
 come upon it on a sudden, in traversing a level 
 plain. It seems as if you could throw a stoie 
 across from cliff to cliff; yet, the valley is near 
 two thousand feet deep : so that the river looks 
 like an inconsiderable stream. Basaltic rocks 
 rise ]ierpendicularl}', .so that it is impossible to 
 get from the plain to the water, or from the 
 river margin to the plain. The current is 
 bright and limpid. Hot springs are found on 
 the borders of this river. One bursts out of 
 
 S>g:^c^g^V®^^0 J^^rKVr^^^He^'_ 
 
 
 r 
 
 */w-, : 
 
 7. 
 
 
 -'i^^ 
 
I 
 
 I- 
 
 nl 
 
 m 
 
 the cliff forty feet above the river, in a stream 
 sufficient to turn a mill, and sends up a cloud 
 of vapor. 
 
 We find a characteristic picture of this vol- 
 canic region of mountains and streams, fur- 
 nished by the journal of Mr. Wyetli, which lies 
 before us ; who ascended a peak in the neigh- 
 borhood we are describing. From this summit, 
 the country, he says, appears an indescribable 
 chaos ; the tops of the hills exhibit the same 
 strata as far as the eye can reach ; and appear 
 to have once formed the level of the country ; 
 and the valleys to be formed bj- the sinking of 
 the earth, rather than the rising of the hills. 
 Through the deep cracks and chasms thus 
 formed, the rivers and brooks make their way, 
 which renders it difficult to follow them. All 
 these basaltic channels are called " cut rocks" 
 by the trappers. Many of the mountain streams 
 disappear in the plains ; either absorbed by 
 their thirsty soil, and by the porous surface of 
 the lava, or swallowed up in gulfs and chasms. 
 
 On the i2th January (1834), Captain Bonne- 
 ville reached Powder River, much the largest 
 stream that he had seen since leaving the 
 Portneuf He struck it about three miles 
 above its entrance into Snake River. Here he 
 found himself above the lower narrows and 
 defiles of the latter river, and in an open and 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 
level country. The natives now made their 
 appearance in considerable numbers, and 
 evinced the most insatiable curiosit\- respecting 
 the white men ; sitting in groups for hours 
 together, exposed to the bleakest winds, merelj- 
 for the pleasure of gazing upon the strangers, 
 and watching every movement. These are of 
 that branch of the great Snake tribe ended 
 Shoshokoes, or Root Diggers, from their sub- 
 sisting, in a great measure, on the roots of 
 the earth ; though they likewise take fish in 
 great quantities, and hunt, in a small way. 
 They are, in general, very poor ; destitute of 
 most of the comforts of life, and extremelj' 
 indolent : but a mild, inoffensive race. They 
 differ, in many respects, from the other branch 
 of the ySnake tribe, the Shoshonies, who possess 
 horses, are more roving and adventurous, and 
 hunt the buffalo. 
 
 On the following day, t\s Captain Bonneville 
 approached the mouth of Powder River, he 
 discovered at least a hundred families of these 
 Diggers, as they are familiarh' called, assembled 
 in one place. The women and cliildren kept 
 at a distance, perched among the rocks and 
 cliffs, their eager curiosity being somewhat 
 dashed with fear. From their elevated posts, 
 they scrutinized the strangers with the most 
 intense earneslness ; regarding them with al- 
 
 ■$ 
 
 ^ 
 
 wmsmemsm* 
 
II 
 
 l^:y!W 
 
 Wa:v- 
 
 334 
 
 JBonncvillc's BC»vcntiirc^ 
 
 most as much awe as if they had been beings 
 of a snpernatural order. 
 
 The men, however, were by no mep.ns so 
 shy and reserved ; but importuned Captain 
 Bonneville and his companions excessivelj' by 
 their curiosity. Nothing escaped their notice ; 
 and anything they could lay their hands on 
 underwent the most minute examination. To 
 get rid of such inquisitive neighbors, the 
 travellers kept on for a considerable distance, 
 before they encamped for the night. 
 
 The country hereabout was generally level 
 and sandy ; producing very little grass, but a 
 considerable quantity of sage or wormwood. 
 The plains were diversified b)' isolated hills, 
 all cut off", as it were, al)out the same height, 
 so as to have tabidar summits. In this they 
 resembled the isolated hills of the great prairies 
 east of the Rocky Mountains ; especially those 
 found on the plains of the Arkansas. 
 
 The higli precipices which had hitherto 
 walled in the channel of Snake River had now 
 disappeared, and the banks were of the ordi- 
 nary height. It siiould be observed, that the 
 great valleys or plains through which the 
 Snake River wound its course, were generally 
 of great breadth, extending on each side from 
 thirty to forty miles ; where the view was 
 bounded by unbroken ridges of uiountains. 
 
 
,C)?f^^r^^^'£'^^^' 
 
 ^^^^^1^*8^^ 
 
 a IDillagc of TRoot I>fgger8 
 
 335 
 
 >^ 
 
 ■^^y 
 
 The travellers fomul but little snow in the 
 neighborhood of Powder River, though the 
 weather continued intensely cold. They learnt 
 a lesson, however, from their forlorn friends, 
 the Root Diggers, which thej- subsequently 
 found of great service in their wintry wander- 
 ings. They frecinently observed them to be 
 furnished with long ropes, twisted from the 
 bark of the wormwood. This they used as a 
 slow match, carrying it always lighted. When- 
 ever they wished to warm themselves, they 
 would gather togetlier a little dry wormwood, 
 apply the match, and in an instant produce a 
 cheering blaze. 
 
 Captain Bonneville gives a cheerless account 
 of a village of these Diggers, which he saw in 
 crossing the plain below Powder River. " They 
 live," says he, " without any further protec- 
 tion from the inclemency of the sea.soji than a 
 .sort of break- weather, al)out three feet high, 
 composed of sage (or wormwood), and erected 
 around them in the shape of a half-moon." 
 Whenever he met with them, however, they 
 had always a large suite of half-starved dogs ; 
 for these animals, in savage as well as in 
 civilized life, seem to be the concomitants of 
 beggary. 
 
 These dogs, it must be allowed, were of 
 ^^If^J more use than the beggarly curs of cities. The , 
 
 n 
 
 9 
 
 ^:iH 
 
 V* 
 
 t^P^^WmffSW!*!? 
 

 .'h 
 
 ^ 
 
 336 
 
 aSonnevUlc's B£tventutC0 
 
 M ' 
 
 
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 (!' 
 
 i" 
 
 i 
 
 r 
 
 Indian children used them in hunting the small 
 game of the neighborhood, sucli as rabbits and 
 prairie dogs ; in which mongrel kind of chase 
 they acquitted themselves with some credit. 
 
 Sometimes the Diggers aspire to nobler 
 game, and succeed in trapping the ante'ope, 
 the fleetest animal of the prairies. The pro- 
 cess b)' which this is effected is somewhat 
 singular. When the snow has disappeared, 
 sajs Captain Bonneville, and the ground be- 
 come soft, the women go into the thickest 
 fields of wormwood, and pulling it up in great 
 quantities, construct with it a hedge, about 
 three feet high, inclosing about a hundred acres. 
 A single opening is left for the admission of the 
 game. This douj, the women conceal them- 
 selves behind the wormwood, and wait patiently 
 for the coming of the antelopes ; which .some- 
 times enter this spacious trap in considerable 
 numbers. As soon as they are in, the women 
 give the signal, and the men hasten to play 
 their part. But one of them enters the pen at 
 a time ; and, after chasing the terrified animals 
 round the inclosure, is relieved by one of his 
 C()mpari(,ns. Iv. this way the hunters take 
 their turns, relieving each other, and keeping 
 up a continued pursuit by relays, without 
 fatigue to themselves. The poor antelopes, in 
 the end, are .so wearied down, that the whole 
 
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 £ntcappind ol (3ame 
 
 party of men enter and dispatch tlieni with 
 clubs — not one escaping that has entered the 
 inclosure. The most curious circumstance in 
 this chase is, that an animal so fleet and agile 
 as the antelope, and straining for its life, should 
 range roimd and round this fated inclosure, 
 without attempting; to overleap the low barrier 
 which surrounds it. Such, hovever, is said to 
 be the fact ; and such their only mode of 
 hunting the antelope. 
 
 Notwithstanding the absence of all comfort 
 and convenience in their haliitations, and the 
 general squalidness of their appearance, the 
 Shoshokoes do not appear to be destitute of 
 ingenuit}'. Thej- manufacture good ropes, 
 and even a tolerably fine thread, from a sort 
 of weed found in their neighborhood ; and con- 
 struct bowls and jugs out of a kind of basket- 
 work formed from small strips of wood plaited : 
 these by the aid of a little wax, they render 
 perfecth' water tight. Beside the roots on which 
 they mainly depend for subsistence, they collect 
 great quantities of seed of various kinds, beaten 
 with one hand out of the tops of the plants into 
 wooden bowls held for that purpose. The 
 seed thus collected is winnowed and parched, 
 and ground lietween two stones into a kind of 
 meal or flour ; which, when mixed with water, 
 
 forms a very palatable paste or 
 
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 JSonncvillc'e BOvcnturce 
 
 Some of these people, more provident and 
 industrious tliau the rest, lay up a stock of 
 dried sahnon, and other fish for winter : with 
 these, the}- were ready to traffic with the trav- 
 ellers for any ol)jects of utility in Indian life ; 
 giving a large quantity in exchange for an awl, 
 a knife, or a fish-hook. Others were in the 
 most abject state of want and starvation, and 
 would even gather up the fish-lxMies whicli 
 the travellers threw away after a repast, warm 
 them over again at the fire, and pick them 
 with the greatest avidity. 
 
 The further Captain Bonneville advanced 
 into the country of these Root Diggers, the 
 more evidence he perceived of their rude and 
 forlorn condition. "They were destitute," 
 .says he, " of the necetisary covering to protect 
 them from the weatlier ; and seemed to be in 
 the most unsophisticated ignorance of any 
 other propriety or advantage in the use of 
 clothing. One old dame had ab.solutely noth- 
 ing on her person but a thread round her neck 
 from which was pendent a solitary bead." 
 
 What stage of human destitution, however, 
 is too destitute for vanity ! Though these 
 naked and forlorn-looking beings had neither 
 toilet to arrange, nor beauty to contemplate, 
 their greatest passion was for a mirror. It 
 was a "great medicine," in their eyes. The 
 
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 IDanite at its Xa^t Sbift 
 
 339 
 
 3< I sight of one was siifFicient, at ati}' time, to 
 \v i*!? throw them into a paroxysm of eagerness and 
 (jj delight; and thej- were ready to give anything 
 ^T^ they had for tlie smallest fragment in which '< 
 
 they might behold their squalid features. ^•<Ki) 
 With this simple instance of vanity in its prim- V u /;> 
 itive but vigorous state, we shall close our - ?* 
 remarks on the Root Diggers. 
 
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 END OK V(JI.rMK I. 
 
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